Notes: (cringes) Yeah, I'm cleaning it up. Just goes to show everyone must face their past sometime. Wow, I never realized it was so different from the canon-verse.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Prophecy

He who shall vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies

Born to those who thrice defied him

The Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal

And he shall have powers the Dark Lord knows not

The light must guide him from darkness

And protect his innocence, his wrath

The one who will vanquish the dark lord will live as the seventh month dies

Order Headquarters, Hogwarts

A meeting was currently in progress in the deepest recesses of Hogwarts School, one of the last remaining strongholds of the resistance against the dark wizard Lord Voldemort.

Only a few, but important, members of the Order of the Phoenix were in attendance. Only those who were (or will be) undoubtedly involved once he disclosed to them a vague but auspicious prophecy by one Sybil Trelawney.

The Potters, the Longbottoms, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew (both of whom James had insisted be present), Minerva McGonagall and, though hidden to everyone but him, Severus Snape.

Hope, relief, fear, doubt, horror… he watched as the various emotions crossed thei young but battle-hardened faces. Unsurprisingly, the Potters and the Longbottoms were the most distressed – both couples, after all, very much fit the conditions of the prophecy, having escaped the Dark Lord thrice by the skin of their teeth and expecting children by the end of the next month July.

"Clearly, the prophecy points to the two families in his room and a chance for a savior," Dumbledore said tiredly, making sure that everyone understood the ramifications of Trelawney's words. "We cannot risk Tom finding out about this prophecy. I know my student. He will stop at nothing to ensure the destruction of any threat to his power. Rest assured, he will come at you to eliminate the children once they are born, more likely before that."

"Professor," Frank Longbottom suddenly asked in a stony voice. "I will say it right now, there is a spy in the Order, spies even. Something as huge as this will not escape his notice. Our lives are already forfeit."

"Is that how you regard this war, Auror Longbottom? Are we already so weak?" Dumbledore answered coldly. "I intend to put all of you under the Fidelius charm, with myself as secret-keeper. This is the best protection I can offer."

"What of the resistance then?!" James jumped up in protest. "The four of us Professor… do not say it will not be a crippling move to take us out of the fighting! We – I – cannot go into hiding, hell, I'm Gryffindor! Protect Lily… at least…"

Lily vehemently shook her head at Dumbledore's offer, emerald eyes darkening in resolve. The Longbottoms reluctantly agreed with James.

Dumbledore gave in.

"We'll wait until the babies are born and try to see which one of them would be our savior. Then you will definitely have to go into hiding, no arguments." Dumbledore said, waving a hand over any protests that might spring up.

In the shadows, Snape's lip curled in disgust. Foolish gryffindors, not even for the safety of your own child will you give up the glory of fighting…

After that, instigated by a question by one Sirius Black, the topic shifted into more familiar and less daunting territories (defense strategies, war refugees, recruitment), allowing them to relegate the prophecy to the back of their minds to come to terms with later.

Peter shyly excused himself, saying that his mother was sick and worried at home and needed him. He was dismissed without a thought.

The Slytherin Manor, Somewhere in England

Wormtail apparated just outside the anti-apparition wards of the Dark Lord's headquarters, clad in the fearsome dark robes and stark white mask of a death eater. He went inside, trembling visibly in both fear and excitement. The guards sneered at him as he passes the door leading straight in the Dark Hall, where all war updates were reported.

He saw a jet of blood red light a second before being hit with pain. He screamed and fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Voldemort held the curse for a minute before ending it. Wormtail was panting hard.

"Speak," He hissed coldly, settling into a elaborate chair on a dais, a fitting throne.

"Master…" Wormtail rasped, his knees still quaking from the torture. "A prophecy has been made by Sybil Trelawney, a prophecy about the one who could defeat you." He recited the prophecy as Dumbledore had.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed even further. The air around him dropped several degrees.

"And who will be such?" He asked, rising from his seat, already contemplating a counter-plan.

"There are two possibilities, Master. The Potter child…or the Longbottom's…"

"And I suppose you want me to go after the Longbottoms, Wormtail? Potter was, after all, your friend was he not?" Scarlet eyes gleamed as the countenance twisted into a feral smile. "No matter, I will kill both families after the children are borne. It seems only fitting to give my equal a proper send off."

"Master, Dumbledore arranged for them to be put under Fidelius as soon as the children are born." Wormtail stuttered, his heart beating painfully.

"That, Wormtail, is where you come in…"

St. Mungo's Hospital, 1 month later

St. Mungo's Center was as busy as a hive, the air heavy with cruelty, melancholy, fear and panic. A multitude of people, both fighters and civilians, came in, reeking of blood and decay and death.

Tonight, the maternity ward was also busy. Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom were giving birth to a possible hero.

Their husbands were in the hall, currently sleeping off exhaustion as they leaned on the walls. A few members of the Order, those who were off duty or being treated for injuries, were also present at Dumbledore's insistence.

It would not be below the Dark Lord to attack the hospital, no matter how riddled it was with Aurors.

The first cry erupted an hour before midnight. Neville (named after Alice's father) was an arguably cute, average sized baby with a round face, black eyes and dark brown hair. Frank was wide awake by then and had tears in his eyes as he held his firstborn.

James waited patiently, pacing in agitation. Sirius Black, his best friend, put an arm around him for support.

The twins came out near simultaneously. The nurse, exhausted from treating so many injured, realizing that she did not observe which twin came first, randomly picked the one, thinking that it made no difference. She chose wrong.

Chris Potter, an average sized baby with red hair and hazel eyes, was born at 11:59pm. He looked very healthy and very strong.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter, that smaller of the twins, had emerald green eyes and black tuffs of hair. He looked frail and thin compared to his brother. He was born at exactly 12 midnight, when July died.

Dumbledore arrived, took a good look at the nurse's notes and the two very different babies, and picked up a sleeping Chris Potter, hope bursting in his ancient chest and leaking into his eyes. This one…

"This little one is going to save us all." He cried happily.

How very wrong he was.

End Chapter One.