Alternate Universe: Sirius Black arrived at the Potter's home before Hagrid. Sirius, along with Remus Lupin, decided to go into hiding in order to protect and properly train Harry from the forces of Voldemort. Cut to fourteen years later, where a young and unknown Harry Potter is forced to attend Hogwart's after he is separated from the men who raised him. Though he attempts to keep his identity a secret, friendships, love and tragedy never were big supporters of what someone wanted.
Of course, this is a fan fiction based upon the works and property of J.K. Rowling. This story is to in no way be considered a challenge to her direct ownership of her creations. All characters, places, plot devices etc. are based on her books, movies, website information… and so on.
I would have to say that a lot of the inspiration for this tale came loosely from a story by Jeconais. Although nothing more than the first chapter was ever done, I liked the idea and decided to find a way to make it my own. I am an avid reader of fan fiction… and have been very impressed with more amateur writers than I could possibly list. As such, there is the chance that some things I've come up with were greatly influenced by other writers' work.
Please accept that that as the compliment it was meant to be.
Thanks. Please Read and Review.
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PROLOGUE – PROPHECY REKINDLED
There was a brief flash… the sensation of green flames without heat surrounding him, covering him completely… inside and out, moving him from one end of the known world to another. It was always like that for him whenever he flooed. And even though his mind was filled with the multitude of possibilities, stray thoughts scattering every which way like a dropped bag of marbles, the events of this night…. More so than any other night in the past fourteen years had, he wondered for not the first (and most definitely not the last) time whether what he planned was the right thing to do.
One moment, he was at the Ministry of Magic. The day had been filled with arguing and posturing… everyone thinking that their idea was the right one, and all of them terrified that their brilliant notion would fail, but too afraid to let the chance of succeeding go to someone else. Now he stood in the silent darkness of his office, the shadows that had stood up in harsh contrast to the emerald illumination of his flooing having faded as the hearth fell cold.
"Albus?" A voice called from the darkness.
At hearing his name, the Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, looked over his half moon glasses and considered the other person, standing alone in the dark, empty room, awaiting his arrival.
"Thank you for coming, Minerva." At her look, he realized that even to him, his words had been cold, heartless and full of exhaustion. She would soon understand the source.
"You said it was important."
He smiled softly. "You haven't waited long?"
Minerva McGonagall flattened her mouth into a thin line as she looked upon him. Eventually, she shrugged and took her usual chair across from his desk after he had seated himself.
With a weariness that brought up the realization of his age, Dumbledore leaned his elbow on the dark wood of his desk, ignoring the fact that by doing so, various parchments and papers were being pushed and crumpled. In the comfortable, but expectant silence that seemed to oppressively fill the office, he considered how to proceed… how to tell her that all hope was not lost… but that the time of celebration was no where near at hand.
The wizard leaned back, his eyes appraising the witch in front of him carefully. "Harry Potter is alive."
The dark haired woman in front of him started visibly. He watched as one of his oldest friends and confidants, a staunch ally for more years than either wanted to consider, stared at him, her mind apparently trying to work out what he had just reveled. Albus kept all expression off of his face, while he watched the Deputy Headmistress pulled her eyes away from his gaze, collecting her thoughts, before looking back at him.
The promise of tears he saw in her eyes moved him.
"Harry? Harry James Potter? He's… alive?"
He nodded at her question.
"But, but… that's wonderful news. The prophecies… everything that we've been trying to accomplish..."
She continued on for a moment, her partial attempts at sentences left dangling, as her mouth relayed the ideas in her mind before each had fully come to fruition. She seemed completely unaware that he had not responded to anything that she'd said thus far, waiting for the immediate euphoria of the shock of Harry Potter's living, to wear off. Moments passed, while the Headmaster observed Minerva standing from her seat, as she began pacing back and forth within the cluttered office, her sure steps carefully avoiding the stacks of books and scrolls, empty crates and various knickknacks that were everywhere.
At long last, she stopped. Her dark robes, nearly indistinguishable in the darkness of the office, still swaying back and forth even though she was standing still. Her lifted his own eyes to meet hers.
"How does he look? Is he all right? Where has he been?"
He tipped his head back and shifted in his seat. "He seems fine, as far as anyone can ascertain at the immediate moment, but as for where he's been for all these year… he won't answer."
"Won't answer?" Professor McGonagall nearly shrieked. "What do you mean that 'he won't answer!'"
Gesturing for her to return to the seat in front of him, the old wizard took a deep breath, negligently noticing that an inkpot had fallen over, staining the elbow of his robes. Grimacing, he began.
"You know of the events that occurred in the early moments last evening in the town of Little Hangleton?" At her confirmation of already owning information that had been tightly contained for the past seven hours, he smiled and continued. "No one is quite sure just yet what occurred, but Aurors are on their way to several well-established homes and families. Arrests will be made."
"Yes," she insisted impatiently. "But as to young Mr. Potter?"
The Headmaster picked up a lemon drop from the dish on his table. "Trelawney was right. Lord Voldemort was resurrected."
"He has returned?"
"Albus…" She closed her eyes, taking a moment for the realization to hit, before she opened them back again. "But what about Mr. Potter?"
"Last night, I was called by Arthur Weasley to attend a meeting with several members of the Ministry, all discussing the ramifications of what they had in their possession and what they should do. Crouch was there. Bones. Fudge. Even Delores Umbridge."
"All for Harry Potter?"
Albus Dumbledore shook his head. "No. They were trying to figure out what to do with Sirius Black."
He smiled at her unconscious reaction, her hands coming up to her throat. "Yes. It seems that Mr. Black was at Little Hangleton and, in the ensuing fight with between Voldemort's followers and the Aurors, was captured."
He watched as her knuckles turned white from the fists her hands were making. "They caught one of those three? I cannot believe it. I thought they were gone for good…" Her voice trailed off.
"After Black was apprehended, the Aurors were attacked." Dumbledore looked at her sternly, a warning for her to not interrupt. "A young man, alone, held of nearly eight older, and more experienced wizards and witches in a failed attempt to rescue Mr. Black. In fact, from the reports I've gotten, it was only a glancing shot… a lucky curse from a fallen Auror, that brought the young man down."
Dumbledore silently considered her for a moment before going on. "Young Mr. Potter, though no one really knew it at the time, was quickly apprehended. He, along with Sirius Black, was taken back to one of the Ministry's detention cells for questioning."
The wizard began brushing his fingers along his beard, as he weighed what to say. "It was actually Arthur who made the connection. He remembered James Potter back from their school days, though James had been several years younger. Seems that James and the others had played pranks on Arthur back when he and Molly first began seeing one another."
Minerva scrunched her forehead down in confusion. "Arthur?"
"Young Mr. Potter is the spitting image of James… well, all but for the eyes. His eyes are those same captivating green that Lily had." He waved his hand. "But Arthur told me that he considered the age of the boy… and the fact that he looked so much like the Potters… he added two and two together."
"It's like a ghost, Albus." Dumbledore could still hear Arthur Weasley as they walked through the Ministry's hallways. The man was fidgeting, his hands constantly darting about his wrinkled clothing. "A ghost… well, twice. Once for James Potter to be sitting there, born again… and then, well… to think that Harry Potter could be alive after all this time."
"What is to happen to him, then, Albus?" Minerva's voice pulled him away from his thoughts.
In the silence, he glanced over to see light of false dawn slowly filling the sky, the room's darkness being driven away. How fitting. Mayhap this could be the sign that Harry's return could mean the end of a long, dark night.
"I have convinced Fudge and the others to put Harry Potter into my care, here at Hogwart's."
"B-but, how… where?" Minerva stuttered in her shock.
"It was fairly simple, especially as none of them would believe that it was actually young Mr. Potter they were holding. It wasn't until after Arthur and I had things well under way that Umbridge realized what she'd let slip from her grasp."
"We must make sure he's ready for what's to come, Minerva. We thought that the prophecies were wrong. For fourteen years, we've but dared to dream that he might be alive… that he could be somewhere, able to appear to stand off against the Dark Lord, fulfilling his destiny."
"But he doesn't know…"
"No." He shook his head sadly. "Not all of it. Harry Potter has lived a life unlike any that I would have wanted for him. He has skills… and training… though why those three sought to do such, I cannot fathom. Something else is at work here… and until we know what it is, we can only hope to make sure that he is here and well protected, ready for what is coming.
"We will train him, care for him… away from the harsh politics and maneuvering at the Ministry… and eventually, I think, we can earn his trust enough that he will open up to us. Harry Potter must understand that we are not the enemy… the awful danger that Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew have poisoned his mind with."
"How?" Dumbledore noted that tears filled her eyes. "What can we say that will make a difference to him? What is it here at Hogwart's that you think will prove to him that we can be trusted… us, the ones that have chased him for fourteen years. We that have imprisoned his godfather?"
The Headmaster leaned forward. "Love."