"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies" those sentences were turning in the Dark Lord's mind, already calculating and planning. The Dark Lord knew that prophecies were a feeble thing, but this one was pretty clear. It designed him clearly as there wasn't any other Dark Lord in activity. Besides, Dumbledore, this old fool would believe it. It would dictate his actions, the Dark Lord was certain of it. This was information he wouldn't overlook. Maybe this was the opportunity he needed to strike a decisive blow to this war that had been going on for far too long for his tastes.

"You have done well, my dear Severus"

The Dark Lord's voice echoed in the tidy study of the Malfoy Manor. "I am content with you" he added. Many thought the wizard wasn't able to feel love. How wrong they were. The Dark Lord had an endless pit of love for his followers. But misguided they had been and thorough discipline was often needed, discipline he had no choice but to uphold. Yet Snape was something else. He was trustworthy and competent. And tonight his follower, in which he saw a lot of himself, had brought him such a vital piece of information.

"I do believe there are two couples that have thrice defied me. And who birthed sons recently, Care to enlighten me, Severus?" His voice was honeyed but carried an icy tone that froze Snape's blood.

"The Longbottoms and… The Potters, my Lord." Severus Snape responded, his voice trembling a bit as he reluctantly spelled the last name. The young Death Eater couldn't see it but a hint of a smirk drew on the Dark Lord's face. Of course he knew about Severus' fondness for the Potter girl. This had been a test. One that his follower almost succeeded.

"Crucio" The Dark Lord reluctantly called and Snape found himself groveling on the ground, shaken by an insufferable wave of pain. The Dark Lord counted to three and released his trusty follower from his punishment. He wasn't content about this, but he had no choice. He had to discipline and the girl was a weakness. A weakness he intended to purge out of the kid.

Snape stood up, his body still sore for the remnants of the spell, but he knew better than to rebel. He was quite relieved actually that it didn't go longer than three seconds, it showed his Lord was indeed content with him. And he understood the lesson correctly. He hated himself that he still loved Lily so much. He hated James Potter, that bastard who made his life a living hell. He hated him with every fibers of his body that he dared defile the woman he loved so much, that their son wasn't his. With grim determination, he looked up to his Lord.

"Thank you, My Lord"

Snape's voice was still trembling but tinged with grim determination.

"What do you wish of me?"

The Dark Lord's smirk widened for a bit. Snape was worthy of his fondness and the boy proved it every day.

"I want you to keep spying on Dumbledore. I want to know if he's planning anything regarding this Prophecy. Can you do that for me, Severus?"

His voice was laced with honey, soothing his underling's nerves as much as it unnerved him.

"I understand, My Lord."

Snape responded solemnly, kneeling with one leg to the ground in a gesture of submission. Then, he stood up and left the study, his black robes bellowing behind him.

Watching his trusted underling leaving the room the Dark Lord's features darkened as he fell back into his thoughts. This prophecy had the possibility to change everything and he wouldn't let it go to waste.

((In the following, every character speaks in french.))

Somewhere in France. A clearing in the middle of a forest.

A large, centuries old oak dominated the clearing, adorned by scars made by past generations of worshippers it had seen birthed, named and returned to its roots when their feeble lives came to an end.

The last one of those scars, a wide charred streak running from its base and quite reaching its first branches was a testament of the last birth the Sacred Oak had witnessed. Lucille Morlec was observing it with thoughtful eyes, her first born son had seen his first day and breathed his first gust of air right under this tree, some five years ago. Back then, the weather had been nice even if quite cold. A single acorn had fell from the sacred oak, a blessing, a boon and an omen foretelling a life under the old gods faith. Indeed young Serge had made his parents proud, he was smart and lively, had a good heart and adequate capacities.

Lucille's green eyes followed the streak up and down once again and her thoughts drifted to her daughter. Back in January when she birthed her, a lightning bolt had struck the tree, scarring it with this mark. The gathered acolytes of the inner circle had been just as surprised as the Great Elder. "This is highly unusual, Brother Pierre" the man had told Lucille's husband just after he had let out a surprised gasp. Lucille herself had been exhausted from the labor so she didn't quite get what transpired of the following discussion but her husband had resumed it sparsely since then.

It turned out that dry lightning wasn't that uncommon as a birth omen. Yet at the other side of the planet like in Australia it was a common occurrence. Here in Europe ?. This could be interpreted in a few ways, but the two that came to Lucille's mind were probably the topic of conversation between her husband and the Great Elder of the Circle. A manifestation of Toutates' wrath or Taranis' acknowledgement. And that was without thinking about the implications of the Sacred Oak's resulting scar.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she broke away from her disturbed musings. Turning around, her heart melted a bit when she locked eyes with her husband. Pierre. The man of her life. With him, those omens won't matter. She knew that her sweet little girl would be free. He cupped her cheek and gently wiped away the tears forming at the side of her eyes.

"Have you decided on a name, my love?"

He asked with his deep but pleasant voice to which she only returned a nod. He grabbed her hand and they turned away from the Sacred tree, their gaze dropping to the little boy at the edge of the grove's clearing, holding a basket made of reed in his arms.

"Serge, come bring your sister."

Pierre's voice echoed between the trees, prompting the boy to walk forward. The boy took his time, being careful not to disturb his sister, looking so beautiful, asleep in the basket and after quite some time, he puts the basket down at the base of the tree with deference under the proud gaze of his parents. Then, he took a few steps back and grabs his parents hand, feeling proud to have played his part.

"Oh Sacred Oak, watcher of our ancestors, conduit between mortals and divinity, we present our child to you"

Lucille calls up, dropping down to a knee.

"May our Ancestors witness, may her name echo through your roots and up to your branches, please welcome our sweet, little Melusine."

As she finishes, a gentle gale crosses the grove, drying Pierre's tears of pride and making the Sacred Oak's leaves flutter. A single ray of sun drops down on the basket and Lucille felt the lump she didn't realize she had been holding for the past month disappearing from her throat.

Godrick's Hollow, Potter's house.

The night was young and the Potter's house windows were alight, the young couple inside could be seen dancing with one another which warmed Dumbledore's heart. "Such innocence and happiness. That's quite something, to dance during this dark times." He shrugged, feeling his gut twisting as he anticipated the dire news he was to unveil. "I can't go back now. There is too much at stakes. Poor family. I will make sure your sacrifice meets proper tribute" his thoughts were dark and sad, but he had no choice. Tom was far too dangerous, and He alone saw farther. He alone could blind his heart to do what needed to be done. He let out a deep sigh and knocked on the door. The music stopped and voices approached, the door opening to the young couple, James Potter holding his wife against him, his arm wrapped around her waist, their face lightening as they saw their visitor.

"Albus! Please come in! What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

James greeted him, taking a few steps back and inviting him in with a welcoming gesture.

"I'm afraid, James, that I come bearing terrible news"

Albus responded, with his most serious face but with a slight tremble in his tone. The Potters features decomposed their faces becoming serious.

"What is it Albus?"

James asked.

"I fear Tom will try to come after your child in the near future."

Dumbledore's words were ominous, Lily brought her hand to her mouth and the Hogwarts Headmaster noticed her gulping, tears forming at the corner of her eyes while James punched the wall in a fit of anger.

"The bastard ! Why does he want with Harry?!"

James erupted.

"There is… a Prophecy, James. I heard it last night and it seems that it leaked."

Dumbledore stopped James from answering with a gesture of his hand.

"I know, James, Prophecies are a feeble thing, but this one spelled his demise. I know Tom. He won't oversee something like that. We need to take measures. This is why I am here."

He said, and then felt a lump forming in his throat as he locked his gaze with the two Potters.

"I won't let anything happen to you, or Harry. You have my word."

He said and hated himself, he knew it was a lie, but he had no choice. He felt the lump in his throat getting heavier when he saw the couple's faces lightening anew, trust gleaming in their eyes.

"Thank you Professor, please tell us what we have to do. How do we protect Harry?"

Lily's voice was tinged with nervosity, she was fighting her angst, knowing that she could trust Albus and the realization had the old Headmaster feeling absolutely terrible. "Come on, Albus. You can do this. The servitors of Light are always tested, but this is for the greater good." His resolve steeled with determination, Dumbledore spent the next few hours briefing the Potter's couple. When he left and apparated in his office, at Hogwarts, he conjured a bottle of fire whiskey and downed it in a matter of hours.

31 October 1981. Godrick's Hollow.

Dear Albus had obviously been planning around the Prophecy. The Longbottom were still on the loose, his underlings hot on their trail, but Lord Voldemort knew that it was all to naught. A fidelius spell had been cast on the Potter's house. The same had obviously cast to protect the Longbottoms. But Albus had made a mistake. The Potter's guardian of the secret had been the rat, Peter Pettigrew. It had surprised the Dark Lord that they wouldn't trust someone like Black or their werewolf friend, but ultimately it played right into his hands. Finding the rat had been easy, and breaking him a walk in the park. Now the Dark Lord knew. Tonight, the boy who was supposed to end him would die as well as any hope for his enemies to win the war. The Dark Lord was jubilating, feeling so light at the prospect of finally bringing the war to its end. He stopped as he felt his stomach gargling, and his throat feeling dry. The Dark Lord was thirsty, he was starving. What's a few minutes in the grand scheme of things ? Noticing a store a bit farther, still open in the middle of the night, the Dark Lord strode and entered it. The Muggle girl behind the desk counter looked him up and down, clearly surprised by his appearance, but Voldemort ignored her. Oh how much he wanted to kill her on the spot, but that will have to wait. It would spark suspicions and the Potters would have a chance to escape. He wouldn't do that.

He strode through the store and took a look at the fridges, grabbing a bottle of water, then turned and grabbed a sandwich from the stalls. He then walked to the Muggle and processed to pay for his food. It felt to him like a humiliation, but he would come back and have her pay for this. Without a word, he grabbed the food he just payed for and rushed out the store, noticing a bench at the other side of the road, he crossed it, uncorking the bottle's cap to have a drink,not paying attention of his surroundings and came to an halt as the screeching of tires rumbled from his side. He turned and was blinded by intense lights, before getting ran over and crumbled under a truck. Everything went dark. He felt a stirring on his soul, he felt part of himself scattered around, his Horcrux, but for some kind of reason, he couldn't cross the gap to take form again. Instead, something pulled at his soul and next thing he knew, he was crushed by a heavy and majestic presence, he felt himself, his Soul, gatting farther and farther away from its material remnants until his Horcrux felt no more than a slight tugging. "What is happening? Where have i gone wrong?" his thoughts reduced to oblivion as he suddenly felt himself thrown into a whirlwind of alien feelings.

1st of November 1981. Godrick's Hollow.

Dumbledore apparated outside of the Potter's house and as much as he felt relieved to see the house still intact, he couldn't ignore a growing uneasiness. Didn't Voldemort come here last night to act on the Prophecy? He had everything planned, convincing them to chose Pettigrew as the guardian of secret, tipping Voldemort about his location, teaching the Blood wards to Lily. "Did Tom anticipate it?" Dumbledore had to make sure. He knocked on the door and a drowsy James Potter opened the door after a few minutes.

"Albus? Why are you here this early?"

He asked and Dumbledore let out a sigh, happy to see the man still alive.

"Pettigrew has been caught by the enemy, James. I came to make sure you were all alright, you need to move, I have no idea about Tom's whereabouts, you are not safe here anymore."

Dumbledore said, cursing internally. Whatever Tom was doing, he wouldn't stay put.