Chapter 1
The month was August. And the village was Godric’s Hollow. And, during the deepest, darkest depths of night, Godric’s Hollow welcomed home the return of its most glorious product: the Little Merlin, the Wand of Truth, and Hogwarts Professor of Transfiguration. Lord Albus Dumbledore returned to the village where his story had once begun.
He strode quickly down the street, able to read the numbers on each house without wandlight. When he reached the house where he was expected, the door swung open without even a knock.
“Lord Dumbledore,” James Potter said with haste. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Professor, please,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I heard there was an emergency.”
“It’s about Lily,” James said. “We were expecting.”
“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore said. “My condolences.”
The Stilling — a magic most vile. Though none had claimed responsibility, the public knew whose magic authored that monstrosity. And what magic it was! Abhorrent, immoral, and evil — but also incredible. Magic only a Lord of Magic operating at the pinnacle of magic could devise.
A cry sounded from inside the house, and Albus Dumbledore held back a gasp. Could it be? He strode further into the house, and he found a disheveled Lily. Tears, of joy and sadness, streamed down her face and in her hands, she clutched…
“A miracle baby,” Albus said. “Lily, James, let me be the first to offer you congratulations. It has been too long since I’ve seen such a beautiful sight.”
“Professor,” Lily Potter said, holding the baby on her arms. “Please help us.”
“Lily,” Dumbledore said, sitting down in a chair next to her. “Do not worry, dear.”
“He’ll know,” she said between sobs. “He’ll come for us. For Harry.”
Dumbledore stared at the boy.
“He will,” he said, finally. “Tom Riddle is not one to leave loose ends.”
Lily broke into sobs and James gripped her shoulder.
“Lily, James, do you trust me?”
Both nodded.
“Since we are alone, this is known only to us three, yes? Not even your parents or family head?”
“Yes,” James said. “Lily and I wanted to be alone.”
Dumbledore nodded. He knew there was only one solution to this problem. He gazed back at the newly formed family. He could see it in both their eyes. They too knew what needed to be done. But their hearts begged him to tell them there was another way.
It could not be. Their child needed a place far from his original family where they could fudge his age. And he needed guardians — not mere parents — true magical titans a Lord and Lady who wielded the gifts of the Divine.
“We must take him into hiding.”
“You can’t!” Lily said. “He can stay with us. You can protect us. He fears you.”
“He may now, but Tom Riddle’s infamy and guile will only grow. It is not known to the public, but Galahad fell to his wand last month.”
“He killed a Knight,” James said. “Fuck.”
“Where will you take him? Will Merlin give his protection.”
Dumbledore frowned. “We will find no aide with Merlin. So long has he sat in his tower that even the Stilling barely registers with him. Only Le Fay.”
“I know of a family who can hide him. As a boy, I learned magic from a wonderful couple in France. I know them as dear friends and my closest confidants. You know them as Nicholas and Penerelle Flamel.”
James gasped. “The Lord of Alchemy?”
Dumbledore nodded. “And the Lady of Draughts.”
“They’ll take him knowing what danger he brings?”
“The Flamels always wanted their own child. Yet, as the centuries passed, they, like many of our elder generations, realized that even adopting a child would be painful as aged and wizened as they are. Likewise, they worried any a child of their own would be unable to escape their shadows. Your child, James, Lily, will not have that problem.”
“Are you saying?”
“Indeed, I am, James. Your son is special. A miracle child. And he carries the gift.”
“Our baby will be a Lord of Magic?” Lily said.
“And so much more,” Dumbledore said. “I assure you Lily, Nicholas and Penerelle will shape him into a man you will be proud of.”
“You’ll check up on him?”
“Every month,” Dumbledore said.
Lily held out Harry for Dumbledore to take. He scooped up the baby. “He keeps his name,” she said. “Please.”
“Of course, my dear,” Dumbledore said. “Now, I must also take something else,” Dumbledore said. “It pains me more than anything to ask, but you both must do this for him.”
Lily burst into more tears, while James stood there silently.
“Can’t we keep this?”
“No,” Dumbledore said. “We must bury a body and wipe your memory of today’s events. Then I must concoct false memories for the two of you.”
“You think they’ll check.”
“It is not a risk I am willing to take.”
“When will we be able to see him?”
“We could arrange you trips to the Flamels every summer. They can introduce you to Harry and ensure that you are able to forge a bond with the boy. You won’t know why, but we can compel you and James to want to get to know him.”
“And when will we regain the memory of our son?”
“When I deem it so,” Dumbledore says. “The day when he has come into his magic and heritage fully. When he is able to hold his own against a Lord.”
“What if that day never comes?” Lily asked.
“Then we can all take solace in the fact that he will live a life safe away from Riddle and his machinations.”
Lily nodded and James relaxed his hand from her shoulder.
And so, Albus Dumbledore left Godric’s Hallow that night with a baby in tow. The first baby born in nine months. While it wouldn’t be until two years later when that the Stilling finally ended, Albus Dumbledore knew Harry Potter’s birth was the initial crack of the spell.