Chapter Text
Rain pours down on the cloaked figure as he stands under the streetlight. If anyone paid attention to the figure, they would have seen how the shadows cut into his face, giving him an almost snake-eske appearance. None the less, no one would ever see the figure enter the empty house, lights off except for one. The second-floor bedroom light is on, emitting an eerie blue light.
He smirks when he walks up to the front door and finds that there were no wards placed around the home. How curious, he muses. A simple flick of his wand and the door opens to showcase a quaint looking home. Simplistic furniture in the sitting room, a knitted blanket thrown over the ottoman, and photos everywhere. Photos of a red-haired woman and a messy, black-haired man with glasses. There's a photo of the woman with a round belly, smiling and looking off to the side in the photo. A large photo of four young men hanging off each other, laughing into the camera.
He makes his way up the stairs, heading for the lit room in the house and towards his destiny. He would see what this ‘defeater of the Dark Lord’ looks like. At the top of the stairs, he hears whispering and pulls his wand out. Rounding the corner, he spots a house-elf. This is the protection they have for the prophesized defeater of the Dark Lord? If he weren’t so amused by that, he might've been offended that they think a house-elf can defeat one of the most powerful wizards of all time.
With a soft sigh, he points his wand at the creature and mutters an ‘Avada Kedavra’. The poor elf doesn't even have time to take her next breath before she falls to the ground with a hard thud. He steps over the body and makes his way down the hall until he stands in front of a door with the names ‘Harry James Potter and Charlus James Potter’ in bright colors across it. He opened the door to a forest themed nursery, complete with hippogriff stuffed animals and, strangely enough, a painting of a werewolf.
Two matching crème cribs stand beside each other. Looking down, he sees two tiny humans, one with black hair and the other with red hair. He watches for a moment and contemplates the truth about how innocent babies are before the world has a chance to seep its claws into them. In a rare surge of emotion, he picked up the babe with dark black hair, who almost immediately opens his eyes. Hazel eyes peer back into his and he can’t help but send a subtle probe with his magic towards the child. He feels that the child has a decently powerful core. Turning, he sends the probe to the other child who immediately awakens from the feeling of magic coating his own. Searing green eyes stare into his and he can feel the same decently powerful core that matches his twin.
Neither of them feels strong enough to truly be the prophesized child. Perhaps I should wait…see which one turns out to be stronger in order to prevent further magical blood from spilling, he thinks.
This war has been greatly damaging the British wixen population and he can't stand it. So much blood being spilt in the name of eradicating dark magic. If only people would let him take over and make the place stronger, there wouldn’t be much of an issue. But no, people just had to be against him. People had to become more accommodating to the muggle-borns and change all the wizarding traditions and holidays. He’d win though. He would fix everything and then the world would never forget about him. Never despise him again. Besides, it’s not like he would ever die. No, he made sure of that fact a few years ago with his high school diary.
With another sigh, he places the babe back in his crib, both babes watching him with very curious eyes. The red-headed one let out a raspberry, leading to a bubble of spit.
“How charming,” he whispers to the tiny human, tone so full of sarcasm he kind of hopes the child would choke on it. He picks up the red-haired babe and places a quick cleaning spell on it.
“Honestly, you would think that you would know better than to get spit everywhere.” The child lets out a cooing noise that almost, almost, brings a smile to his face.
“I’m not going to you let you kill one of them, Tom.”
Ah the voice of an old, senile man. The same voice that once promised Tom a great life in the wizarding world, only to shun him for speaking to snakes and wanting to become immortal. Tom turns to the doorway to see Albus fucking Dumbledore in bright blue robes that are utterly appalling to the eyes.
“Albus, how lovely to see you here. I was just paying them a visit. You know – trying to learn what I can about the child destined to bring my destruction,” He hisses towards the man, “Neither are very impressive right now, so I will just take my leave.”
“You’re not one to typically turn down the opportunity to kill someone, Tom” Albus states, almost curiously, as if he had become a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anymore, “Put Harry down.”
“So, this little one is Harry,” Tom says, keeping his eye on Albus’s twitching wand, “And, Albus, don’t worry about my homicidal tendencies. I will be forced to kill them one day, just not today. Afterall, they are just babies – no more dangerous than that house-elf outside.”
“So, you killed poor Misty? Can’t say I’m surprised. You have always been a monster.”
“I am not a monster,” Tom hisses back venomously.
“You will always be a monster,” Albus growls out, and before Tom can do more than turn the babe away from the man, a bright green light hurtles towards his chest.
-
Later that Halloween night, two young parents rush inside their house to find Headmaster Dumbledore holding onto a sleeping Charlus. The old man looks funny in his blue robes that hurt James’s eyes.
“Oh, thank God. He’s okay right?” James practically shouts, ignoring the fact that his loud tone wakes his son up. He rushes towards Albus and takes Charlus from his hands, letting out soft noises to the babe. Lily rushes beside him and places her hand Charlus’s chest, obviously feels a heartbeat, and sighs in relief at her unharmed son.
“Yes, he’s perfectly fine.” Albus laughs out, grandfather attitude in place, “So is Harry. He’s asleep over there.”
At Albus’s point, Lily practically vaults towards her other son. Picking him up, she does the same thing, placing a hand on his chest and feeling his heartbeat to prove to herself that both of her sons are alive and well.
“What happened? We didn’t feel the wards when we rushed in and where is Misty? Did the Dark Lord really come for them? Why are they still alive if he came for them?” Lily blurts out, feeling her stomach finally unclench.
“Shhh my dear girl. I arrived after I felt the wards fall. Voldemort is dead. Charlus defeated him.”
“What the fuck?” James blurts out, even Lily is too shocked to reprimand him for his cussing.
“Sit, sit. I’ll explain everything.”
James sits on the couch holding Charlus as close as he can in fear that the boy will somehow be snatched from his hands. His hair is messier than usual, and his normally dark skin is pale. His wizarding robes are dirty and sweaty from sprinting to the apparition point at the Ministry of Magic. His wife looks the same. She gleams from sweat probably smells bad, but she clutches Harry with a ferociousness that only a mother could have.
“I immediately apparated here when I felt the wards come down and – No, no – James please let me finish,” Albus raises a hand towards the young father who looks confused, “I do not know how he got the wards down, but he did. Anyways, I ran into the house and up the stairs. At the top, I found Misty. I took the liberty of burying her in the backyard beside Gusty.”
"But the Fidelius charm, Albus..." Lily mutters towards him, vibrant red hair cackling slightly, "We have a Fidelius charm on this house, someone had to have told him."
"That is true, my dear," He says back softly, "But you had four secret keepers. Three now, I guess, with what happened to Peter."
"Don't talk about Peter!" Lily snarls, clutching her babe closer.
"My apologies."
"Are you telling me that one of my friends - my best friends might I remind you - told the Dark Lord where to find my family?" James shrieks and a picture frame falls to the floor. Albus sighs.
"One of them had to as we all know it wasn't me," He's pleased when they both immediately nod at his statement, true trust is hard to find in followers.
Lily looks up from Harry's face, "You don't think it was Remus, do you? After...after everything?"
James shakes his head fiercely, "There is no telling. I mean he's a fucking werewolf and we know how much Lord Voldemort loves them, so maybe?"
"There's no way it was Sirius," Lily states, "So it had to have been Remus."
James sags against the back of the couch, "I can't believe it. I'm going to kill that fucking beast."
"Let's leave that conversation for later. Allow me to finish telling you what happened," Albus smiles a little when Harry lets out a small squeal which immediately distracts Lily, “I found the boys nursey door open. Inside, I saw the boys in their cribs. Harry sleeping and Charlus, the little tyke, was screaming as loud as he could. I ran to them and did as many diagnostic tests as I could. Both are perfectly healthy, and Voldemort was not in sight.”
James sighs in relief, but Lily speaks up.
“This sounds too good to be true. You’re telling me that Voldemort showed up and – somehow – didn’t kill my sons?”
“Well Lily, darling, look at Charlus’s face. He’s been marked by the Dark Lord, which means he is the child in the prophecy. His destiny is to destroy the Dark Lord and he did that.” Albus waves his hand towards the still sleeping child; both parents look at their son to see a small, almost unnoticeable, scar on his forehead. Just a nick really. A straight line across the top of his forehead.
“Oh Merlin. My poor baby.” Lily cries out.
“Poor baby, my ass. Our son is amazing, look at him. Destroying the Dark Lord at a year old!” James exclaims, looking every bit the proud father that he is.
“I am afraid that Harry is the poor baby in this scenario,” Dumbledore whispers, hating to be the bearer of bad news, “Charlus had to get extra power from somewhere and syphoned his brother’s magic. Harry….” He sighs, “Harry is a squib.”
“What? What… no! You’re wrong, Albus. Completely wrong. Absolutely mental. My child is perfectly fine,” Lily stutters then spits out, clutching the twin to her side. She brushes her hand through the small tuft of red hair, so like her own. All fiery and vivid. She just knows that his hair will crackle with power, especially when angry, like hers does.
James jumps to her defense and practically snarls at the Headmaster, someone he considers a friend, “There is no way that my son is a squib. Run the tests again. And again. And again, until you see that he has a goddamn magical core.”
“I am so sorry, James. There is nothing we can do.” Albus tells the grieving parents, but the next part of his plan has to work, so he gathers all of his lovely grandfatherly persona and gets to work.
“The issue with what happened is that Voldemort is not truly gone.”
“What?” Lily howls with tears coming down her face. James has a weird moment where he focuses on those tears, despite the shock he is feeling now. Still gorgeous, even when crying.
“Voldemort is obsessed with immortality, and he succeeded. He will come back…” Albus sighs when he looks at the shocked parents. So young, yet still so impressionable.
“Charlus will have to fight again. You have a choice to make now – Harry cannot magically defend himself against Voldemort or his death eaters. It would be in his best interest to send him somewhere else.” A book flies across the room and some pictures fall down, causing Harry to start screaming. Lily’s hair begins to glow in the room and James’s eyes light up in the way they do when he it truly angry.
“I will NOT be sending my child to grow up with STRANGERS.” Lily screams towards the man who looks a little ashamed of what he had said.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE.” James roars and the front door flies open. Albus stares at the two young wizards in front of him, before turning to leave the house. With one foot out the door, he turns back.
“If you truly love Harry, you will do this for him. He cannot survive in our world. He will always be a target to people trying to get to Charlus.” Albus leaves the house and the door slams hard enough behind him that it echos throughout Godrick’s Hollow.
-
It only takes three hours for his plan to work.
Three hours after he is quite rudely (in his opinion) kicked out of the Potter’s house, they floo call him. In his office, Dumbledore walks over to the fireplace and looks into the ashes to see James’s face.
“Albus, please, you must come. Harry is sick.” So, with that statement, Albus calmly grabs some floo powder and steps out into the Potter’s home. Lily is sobbing on the couch with Charlus screaming beside her. James is pacing the floor and kept pointing his wand up before stopping. Harry, the poor babe, is crying and covered in vomit that Sirius keeps trying to wipe off with a rag.
“What is going on?” Albus asks, watching as James shot over towards him.
“It’s – Harry – It’s – we’ve never seen this before. Every time we do magic, he vomits. Just all over himself, it’s everywhere. We keep trying to clean him, but it’s not working.” James sputters, out of breath, tears forming in his eyes.
Lily just keeps sobbing, while Sirius picks Harry up without a single care about getting his godson’s vomit on him. “Albus, what is going on? They called me over here because the Dark Lord attacked and told me about how you wanted to send my godson away and now the boy is puking every time magic happens.”
Albus hums and walks towards the babe. With a sigh, he lifts his wand, ignoring how James immediately tells him to stop, before running a few diagnostic tests. Harry throws up immediately as the magic roams over his body.
“I am so sorry, Lily – James. I...” Albus can't believe how well this is working in his favor. He needs Charlus to be trained to truly end Voldemort’s reign of terror. He needs Harry gone because the young boy will just be in the way and is the only one to truly witness the horrific acts Dumbledore has done to protect the world. There can only be one savior of the wizarding world, and that will be Charlus; Harry now appearing to be allergic to magic on top of being a squib is truly the cherry on top. “It seems as though Harry is allergic to magic.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Lily pushes out. She is surprised with herself with for sounding so strong in this moment when it feels as though her chest is caving in. Her lungs are tight, and she needs to take about three different potions to make sure her body is actually working.
“I am afraid he is allergic to magic,” Albus’s statement is further proven by Harry vomiting again, “He will never live a normal life in our world, James. He must leave.”
“I – I…but” James begins crying in earnest now. His baby, his little boy being allergic to magic. How is that even possible? How could he show his son the world now? Arms wrap around him, and James looks into the eyes of the man that is practically his brother. Sirius has tears forming and he pulls James into a hug. The two men sob as they hold onto each other, while Lily – who finally manages to feel like she has enough air – screams with everything she has in her body.
Albus watches as his two favorite soldiers are rocked to their core at the information and knows that they would now accept his proposition to move Harry to the muggle world. Harry, the tiny human, looks around the room with his bright green eyes and when he meets the twinkling gaze of Dumbledore, feels a spark of fear, and throws up again.