The acrid smell of fire dancing on flesh.

The haze of smoke, diluting the senses.

He had never wanted this, to see the ones he loved disappear from his grasp – forever. It was the darkness of his dreams, overtaking reality. He had foreseen this, pushing all those he loved dearly away, only to be robbed of them, despite all his precautions.

He saw his best friends fall to the mad Death Eater who had taken his godfather’s life.

He saw the love of his life take the bullet meant for him.

Yet…it was over. He closed his eyes, remembering.

“Hermione, run!” Ron’s eyes were determined, steadfast. “We’ll hold Lestrange off.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” sobbed Hermione, all the while casting protective shields. “We’ll do it – together.”

“Where are you?” came the tell-tale sing-song voice Bellatrix had. “Ickle Potter, hiding behind your little friends, the Weasel and the Mudblood?”

They stood still, around the corner, though Harry made a move to lunge at her.

She cackled. “I’ll catch you, sooner or later. Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

As she passed by, the Golden Trio attacked.

“Expelliarmus!” called out Ron.

“Reducto!” shouted Harry.

“Avis Oppugno!”

“Fools, all of you,” cackled Bellatrix, as she neatly sidestepped their curses. “As if little spells could hold me off.”

Her eyes gleamed ominously. “You had a chance, ickle wee Potter. But you can’t kill me, can you? No guts, just like my dear cousin – ”

“Don’t you dare say a word against Sirius!” shouted Harry. “Avada Kedavr –”

He felt something push him over, and the spell flew wide, missing her. Bellatrix threw her head and laughed, while Ron and Hermione stood there, frozen, unable to dodge the Killing Curse she threw at them.

Harry watched in horror, unable to help. “No!”

Their still bodies fell to the floor, their eyes unseeing.

Harry ran over to their bodies, shaking them, with tears pouring down his face. He turned to Bellatrix, his eyes blazing with hatred. “Avada Kedavra!”

And she fell, but not before giving off one more laugh, as if cheating Harry of his revenge. Harry looked up at the sky, and howled.

“Well, well, Harry, we meet again.”

“Go away, Tom, I’m not in the mood,” said Harry, his back towards Voldemort, though his stance indicated he was ready for an attack.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “Do not taunt me, little boy.” Then he smiled. “But there’s no need to mourn your poor Weasley and the mudblood. After all, you’ll be joining them soon.”

“In your dreams, Tom!” Harry turned, and unleashed all the power he had in him towards the person he hated the most.

Voldemort caught the unleashed power in one hand. “Pathetic. And this is the Chosen One, destined to vanquish me?”

His red eyes morphed, taking on the deep colour of blood. “Goodbye, Potter. It was fun while it lasted. Avada Kedavra!”

Harry closed his eyes. He had failed.

“No!”

He opened his eyes in confusion, as a familiar redhead threw herself into the Killing Curse’s path. His mouth gaped open, disbelieving what he saw.

Tom laughed. “Good, another obstacle gone. I guess I won’t have to go hunting after we’re done. Well, Potter, have you decided to fight your own battles now? After all, there’s no one left for you to hide behind.”

Harry’s eyes closed, and his fists clenched together. “I’ve never hidden behind anyone, Tom – not Snape, not Ron, not Hermione, and definitely not Dumbledore. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? They loved me –”

“And what has love given you, Potter?” asked Voldemort sarcastically.

“This.” Harry opened his eyes, and called forth the power of wild magic – hidden beneath Hogwarts. “Per diligo, evinco malum!”

Voldemort cackled. “And you think this will destroy me?”

Harry’s eyes stared straight through. “Yes.”

Those were the last words Voldemort spoke, arrogant until the end.

Harry buried his face in his hands, and mourned, sobbing for those he had lost. The Weasley clan, his Hogwarts Professors, his godfather, his pseudo-godfather and his family, his best friends, his girlfriend, his mother’s ex-best friend, and last but not least, his mentor. He even mourned the man Tom Riddle had become.

He collapsed on the ground, next to Ginny. He touched her hair, remembering the vibrancy it once held. Carefully, he traced the outline of her face, and gently closed her eyes. She deserved peace.

Someone touched him. He turned around quickly, his wand in hand, ready to hex any attacker. Though there was no danger, he remained in his stance. “You.”

It was the ghost of Snape. Behind him, all those he mourned for stood behind him, smiling. Dumbledore stepped closer to him. “Harry –”

James stepped forward, and embraced him. “We’re proud of you.”

The ghosts behind him echoed, “Yes.” Even Snape, who smiled.

Suddenly, they all moved towards the bright light behind them. Harry cried out, “No! C-can’t you stay?”

They turned, almost as one. Sirius stepped forward. “We’re sorry, Harry, but life…must move on. It will be your time to join us – but not now. You have many things to accomplish. Go, live your life as you were supposed to. The life we should have been able to give you. Keep us in your heart, but don’t dwell upon us. You can do it, Harry.”

“No, I can’t!” cried Harry, his anguish evident. “You’re all that I have. Don’t leave me, please!”

His mother stepped forward. “Oh, Harry…we must. They call for us now…and we must answer. Harry, let us go…”

Harry stood, and jammed his hands into his pockets. He stared at them, and nodded once, stiffly, not trusting his voice. As one, the crowd of ghosts moved, but not before calling back: “We love you.”

Tears ran down his cheeks, as it finally settled on him how high the cost had been. Tom was right. What good was love when there was nothing worth loving? Worth living, for that matter. He collapsed on the ground, and fell into a deep sleep. Tomorrow would come…soon enough.

********

“Mr. Potter, are you all right?”

A hand gently shook his shoulder. “Who are you?”

“A Healer, Mr. Potter. Do you mind if we take a look at you?”

Harry glanced around, unseeingly. “Where is Ginny? Ron? Hermione?”

The medic glanced back, a bit nervously. “They…have already been lain to rest, Mr. Potter. The Minister has requested that we bury the dead as soon as possible.”

“You buried them without giving me one last chance to see them again?” The anger in his eyes was evident, and the medic slowly backed away. “Damn the Minister and his conniving fools. You had no right…!”

“They had no living relatives left, Mr. Potter,” said Cornelius Fudge. “We had every right. Now, congratulations and our heartfelt thanks for defeating You-Know-Who. We will, of course, be giving you the Order of Merlin, First Class –”

“I don’t give a damn about that drivel,” sneered Harry. “Had you truly been thankful, you would have left my friends as they were, so that I – their family, as you have so graciously mentioned – could give them the burial they deserve.”

The Minister remained unruffled. “They, of course, have all been awarded Order of Merlin, Second Class –”

“You disgust me,” said Harry, his voice low and threatening. “You think I can be appeased with these pitiful awards? They are nothing. Nothing in comparison to what I have lost. How could you possibly make up for them by giving me pieces of metal? Merde. Now, leave, before I lose my temper and blow you to smithereens.”

Fudge backed away. “W-when you come to your senses, come to my office and talk to me.”

To his back, Harry muttered, “Not bleeding likely.”

********

“You know, Harry, you should take a break. Why don’t we go outside and take pictures? It’s very nice outside and there’s lots of sunsh –”

“Colin…” Harry’s hand crashed down on the table in front of him. “Leave me alone.”

“All right, all right,” said Colin defensively. “No need to be so huffy about it.”

The door to Harry’s room slammed shut. Finally, welcome silence. He slowly extricated himself out of the chair he sat upon, and threw himself on the bed. He was still at Hogwarts, and was helping with the re-building process. But his heart wasn’t in it. Everywhere he looked, he saw Ron, or Hermione, or even Ginny. Of all those left in the upper years, only five had survived, including Harry and Colin. The others were Slytherins, and at the moment, Harry didn’t particularly care for them.

There had been talk of instating Harry as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but he had declined. Ultimately, Amos Diggory had been given the job, but still, Harry remained, helping out where he could. There was many a night he contemplated committing suicide. He would be reunited with his family then, right? But Sirius had said something… “Life…must move on. It will be your time to join us – but not now. You have many things to accomplish…” Sirius’s words, somehow, had made it impossible for him to die by his own hand.

He had turned his wand on himself, casting the Killing Curse. His wand blew to bits, but he wasn’t hurt – at all. He had taken a Muggle gun to his head, and it had melted in his grasp. He tried cutting his wrists, but the mirror shards became like rubber. And most infuriatingly, when he had overdosed on sleeping pills…he had thrown them all back out – unwillingly. No, he couldn’t kill himself.

But there was something else Sirius had said. “Go, live your life as you were supposed to. The life we should have been able to give you.” Why not? He turned this idea in his head. Why couldn’t he? He could just travel back to the past!

Excited, he jotted down into his notebook on the table, and flopped back on to the bed. Within minutes, he was asleep, and dreaming of what was to come.

A little light filtered through the thin openings of the curtains blocking the windows, a stark contrast to the dark room Harry currently inhabited. It was morning.

On the bed lay a prone figure, moaning and gasping in his sleep. Abruptly, he bolted upright. He sat there a while, staring blankly at the opposite wall. After a couple of minutes, he flopped back into his bed just as quickly as he had sat up.

Laying there for several moments, he staggered out of bed, his glasses lopsided on his face. He stretched, and started to walk towards his bathroom, when something caught his eye – his journal, to be precise. When he saw what he had written within, his face lit up, and there was a certain bounce in his step as he began his day.

He finished all the necessary morning requirements, and headed down to the kitchens, where he predominantly took his meals. Harry hated the stares and the murmurs that occurred whenever he went down to the Great Hall, so he rarely went there anymore. But the kitchens…the kitchens were another matter. The house elves, though they were in awe of him, did not stop working to stare at him. They merely treated him with respect, and Harry had come to trust them, especially Dobby.

Dobby was one of those people Harry couldn’t push away. No matter how hard he tried, Dobby still remained faithful. Of course, he should have known that already; after all, Dobby had taken great lengths to keep Harry safe for years – including sending a homing bludger him so he would have to leave Hogwarts. Yep, definitely zealous.

“Good morning, Sir Master Harry Potter sir,” said Dobby, bowing excitedly. “What is Dobby do for you today?”

“Hi Dobby,” said Harry, smiling a little, knowing he could never get the elf to call him just ‘Harry’. “I’m Harry, remember, Dobby?

“Yes,” came the reply. “Sir Master Harry.”

That was as close as it would get, he supposed. “I just want a little breakfast. Do you mind –”

Immediately, the house elves began preparing food for him. By the time Harry completed the sentence, he had a full course meal big enough for twenty people laid out in front of him.

“Uh…Dobby?” asked Harry weakly. “You know I can’t finish all of that.”

Dobby shook his head emphatically. “Sir Master Harry must be getting strong again, so Sir Master Harry must eat more.”

“Dobby…”

“Is Dobby doing a bad thing?” asked Dobby, and began hitting himself. “Bad Dobby, bad Dobby, for not listening to great wizard Sir Master Harry, bad Dobby!”

“Dobby, no! Stop that!” exclaimed Harry, and then sighed. “Say, Dobby, how would you like to help me finish all of this?”

“Oh, no, Sir Master Harry sir, Dobby cannot be eating with you,” said Dobby. “Dobby not good enough to eat with Sir Master Harry.”

“Dobby, I order you to eat with me,” said Harry firmly. “And all the other house elves as well.”

All of them sat down around the table, shuffling and anxiously looking at one another. Harry sighed. Hermione hadn’t been right – house elves really did like servitude. He took a huge bite out of his omelette. Ugh, he hated egg, but he spoke anyways, “Mmm…this tastes wonderful! Why don’t you try?”

Pretty soon, all the eggs were gone, and Harry ended up trying each and every dish before he could get them to eat with him. He sat there for a while, pretending to be occupied with his food until all the food was gone. “That was an excellent meal, thank you. I’ll see you later then.”

As he sauntered out of the kitchen, he heard Dobby say, “See? Sir Master Harry Potter is a great wizard!”

He smiled.

********

Harry wanted to bang his head out of frustration. Of all the books he had poured through, he had found nothing decisive about time travelling. It was infuriating. How could Hogwarts, the greatest institution of Magic in the United Kingdom, not have anything on time travelling?

Oh, he had found references, but they had all led to dead ends. Or the normal time turners, which could turn back only several hours. Useless. Utterly useless. What was he going to do?

He banged his head on the table, hoping the pain would give him an epiphany. It did nothing of the sort – as any logical person could tell you – but it did bring something, or rather, someone.

“Sir Master Harry Potter is not to be hurting himself, sir!” said Dobby, flinging himself on to the table to catch his head before Harry’s head could bang against it again. “If Dobby is bad house elf, Dobby will punish himself. Sir Master Harry Potter is not to be punishing himself for bad Dobby’s actions!”

“Oh, Dobby,” said Harry, his eyes just a bit glazed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…frustrated.”

“Frustrated?” Dobby’s ears perked up. “Can poor house elf Dobby help Sir Master Harry with his problem? Oh, but Dobby can offer only the smallest –”

Harry interrupted him, joking, “Only if you know how to travel back to the past.”

Silence greeted his comment. “Err, Dobby?”

“Dobby wonders if Sir Master Harry can keep a secret?” Then he started bashing himself. “No, no, Dobby knows Sir Master Harry can. Dobby is not doubting Sir Master Harry’s secret keeping, no –”

“Don’t worry, Dobby,” said Harry gently, out of fear Dobby might actually break his skull from all that pounding. “What is it?”

Dobby looked nervously around, and reached upwards, landing on top of the table until he was at eye level with Harry. He leaned over and whispered, “Dobbycantravelbackwards.”

“What?!?”

“Dobby can travel back in time,” whispered Dobby again.

“You can?” Harry asked, astounded, and almost knocked dumb. House elves could travel in time?

“Dobby can travel to past,” answered Dobby emphatically. “But Dobby can only stay for a day before Dobby has to go forward.”

“Err…you mean, back to this time, right?” said Harry, his mouth gaping, until Dobby’s words caught up to him. “Oh…well, that’s not much use…”

“Sir Master Harry not think Dobby is good?” asked Dobby sadly. “Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!”

“No, no, Dobby, you’ve been a great help,” Harry hastily amended. “Thanks a lot, Dobby.”

Dobby was on a roll, though. “Sir Master Harry wishes to go back in time?”

“Yeah…”

Dobby lowered his voice again, almost conspiratorially. “When Dobby serve bad wizards, Dobby see lots of books on time travel in secret bookshelf that bad wizard never see.”

Harry’s head shot up. “Wait, you mean the Malfoys? “

Dobby nodded. “Dobby can show Sir Master Harry if Sir Master Harry likes.”

“I’d love to!” he hugged Dobby exuberantly, and then retracted, when Dobby recoiled.

“Sir Master Harry hug Dobby!” Dobby popped away in his excitement, forgetting what he had just said.

“Hey, Dobby, you’re supposed to be showing me – ”

Dobby apparated back in. “Oh, Dobby is forgetful, bad Dobby!”

“Uhhh…it’s okay, just show me, okay?” said Harry. Where the hell did that hug come from? He shook his head. Must be Hermione’s influence…Hermione. What right did he have daydreaming when he had a job to do?

“Dobby go collect the books for you?” asked Dobby.

“Do you mind if I come along?” asked Harry. “I’d really like to see for myself.”

“Okay, Dobby shall meet Sir Master Harry at bad wizards’ house,” said Dobby, and he popped away. Harry quickly followed using Apparition, since he had been to Malfoy Manor several times. The last time he had been there…he had been so tempted to burn it with all the occupants inside. Regretfully, Hermione had held him back, citing the house elves’ well being.

“How could you, Harry? There are innocent people in there!” exclaimed Hermione.

“The Malfoys, innocent?” scoffed Ron. “I’d sooner eat a sock than believe that.”

“No, idiot, the house elves,” said Hermione. “Let’s just go in and grab the Horcrux and leave. Besides…uncontrolled Fiendfyre is not a good thing, anyways. Attracts too much attention.”

Of course, they had been gravely injured and had almost been caught. Fortunately for them (and probably to Harry’s and Ron’s utter dismay), a house elf helped them out. Hermione had never been able to keep from shoving it in their faces every time when they were tempted to moan when her favourite topic – more-rights-for-the-house-elves campaign – came up.

He sprawled upon landing. Like floos, he had never been able to land safely upon arrival. But then again, he hated magical transportation. He sighed. If he really was going to travel back in time, he had better make sure he knew how to Apparate. It would look extremely awkward and would attract too much attention – which he definitely didn’t want. While he was researching time travelling, he might as well pick up a few books on how to land properly after Apparition too.

He looked up, and winced. The house looked ghastly. Of course, since all the Malfoys were in custody, it was empty. But still…there was a haunted feeling around the house.

Most of the house elves had been commissioned to Hogwarts, so it was a surprise when Dobby came out of the house with a very familiar house elf – Cribsy, the very same house elf who had rescued Harry and his friends the last time they were here.

“Sir Master Harry Potter!” Dobby waved.

When Harry reached the two of them, Dobby proceeded to introduce them. “Sir Master Harry Potter is a great wizard. He is rescued the whole Wizarding world. Sir Master Harry Potter, sir, this is Cribsy.”

Harry’s throat was dry all of a sudden. “We’ve met, Dobby…we’ve met.” He cleared his throat, and continued. “Cribsy…thank you.”

He could say no more, but it was just as well, since Cribsy abruptly burst into tears at the extended thanks. “Master Harry Potter sir does not need to thank Cribsy, sir. Cribsy is only doing Cribsy’s duty.”

“Nevertheless…” said Harry. “You rescued us. And…we – I – owe you much.”

“No, Master Harry Potter sir is not owing Cribsy anything,” said Cribsy. “Cribsy only do what is right.”

There was silence, before Harry broke it by saying, “Well, Dobby, Cribsy, let’s see what this old house has to offer.”

At Dobby’s wave, the massive doors in the front creaked open.

********

They walked down corridor after corridor. No wonder Draco had been such a spoiled prat; he practically lived in a mansion! If his parents had lived, would he have lived like this too? He shuddered. What if he had turned out like Draco? He made a mental note not to become a prat…if he got the chance to.

Dobby spoke. “Sir Master Harry sir is follow Dobby and Cribsy downstairs.”

Downstairs? Harry hadn’t seen any stairs…Oh. Dobby stopped at the seemingly dead-end corridor, and tapped a Gothic statue on the left. Moments later, the statue shifted away, revealing a door. Cribsy opened it.

If Harry had thought it was spooky before…well, he was wrong. There were cobwebs along the side of the staircase, and the remnants of Dark Magic were still present. The only light available came from the house elves, and Harry’s Lumos. Harry shuddered. He didn’t mind Dark Magic, per say, but the Malfoys’ use of it was certainly malicious. And he hated the dark.

After about a hundred and thirteen steps (Harry had lost count at about ninety-two), they finally arrived at the bottom. On one side were the dungeons. The other wall had a door. Dobby opened this door, and Harry saw another flight of stairs. What was this place and stairs? He groaned. His knees were definitely not happy.

Cribsy spoke. “Master Harry Potter sir must be careful not to hit Master Harry Potter’s head –”

The warning came too late. Harry smashed his head on the overhang. “Why in Merlin’s name is this so low?”

The two house elves shrugged. Harry fixed the bruise and they continued onwards. After over two hundred more steps, Harry wanted to scream. When were they going to get there? The staircase seemed to extend ‘til kingdom come. Abruptly, the two house elves stopped, and Harry almost crashed into them. Cribsy traced a long finger on the markings on the right side of the stairs. They waited. The two house elves obviously expected something. Suddenly, a door popped into existence.

Dobby opened the door. Harry stepped into the room, and he could not help but look about in awe. Inside, was a library, certainly not what he had expected thirty feet under. There were fifteen rows of shelves, certainly much smaller than Hogwarts’ library, but a decent size, nonetheless. The carpet looked new, and it shimmered a silky green. In front of the shelves was a table, upon which a catalogue sat upon. Harry had only seen one of these once, when he had sneaked into the Lestrange Mansion, to look for a certain text on lethal spells. It was a strange place for it to be in, since well, both Bellatrix and her husband weren’t the most intelligent of people. But it certainly did explain why they had such vicious spells, especially on Bellatrix’s part. Or maybe she was just insane to begin with.

Dobby led the two of them to the very back of the room, where a huge portrait frame hung. It was empty.

“Err, Dobby?”

“Shhh, Sir Master Harry,” said Dobby, his forehead creased. Dobby walked towards the right of the frame, and stroked it. Immediately, stairs popped up, just under the frame. What was with this place’s obsession with stairs??

“Sir Master Harry must walk through this frame to get the books. Not even bad wizards know of this place. Secret for very long time, yes,” said Dobby. “Dobby and Cribsy will follow Sir Master Harry.”

Harry took a deep breath.

“Master Harry Potter sir?” asked Cribsy, who looked a bit nervous behind him. He didn’t blame her at all; he did feel a bit faint.

“I-I’m all right,” said Harry. “I’ll just walk in then.”

He braced himself, and moments later, he found himself smashed on the floor of the library. “W-what happened?”

“Sir Master Harry Potter crash himself on the portrait,” said Dobby.

“So…I can’t go in?” asked Harry weakly, his head still spinning from the impact. ‘

“Dobby does not know,” said Dobby, after exchanging several looks with Cribsy. “Maybe Sir Master Harry Potter can try again?”

“Oh, hell,” muttered Harry. “Can we just take a break for a minute?”

The two house elves nodded. “Master Harry Potter sir?” ventured Cribsy. “Does Master Harry Potter sir mind if Cribsy make a suggestion?”

“Sure, Cribsy,” said Harry, holding an aching head.

“Master Harry Potter sir must think of empty space when walking through the portrait frame,” said Cribsy gravely. “Or Master Harry Potter sir will crash again.”

“It’s just like Platform 9¾, then?” asked Harry, interested. “Hey, Dobby, didn’t you make that border solid? Can’t you just make it disappear?”

“If Dobby make the portrait frame disappear…” said Dobby sceptically. “What Cribsy think?”

“Cribsy think Dobby will destroy the house,” said Cribsy dryly. “Master Harry Potter should just walk through.”

Harry had to hide a laugh. Dobby was destructive – to a point. “Well, can’t blame me for asking, right? I guess I should be all right. I mean, it’s like Platform 9¾, and I’ve crossed through that a billion times!”

“Sir Master Harry Potter sir can do it!” cheered Dobby.

“Thanks, Dobby,” said Harry, steadying himself. He pictured just another stair past the frame, and then, he was through. For a minute, he wanted to jump up and down, like he had when Ginny had first answered ‘yes’ when he had asked her out. This was good; it was just another step closer to seeing her again.

He took a closer look around the room. It was brightly lit, with a desk opposite to the doorway. The desk looked well-used, but it still retained its dignity, despite all the documents scattered upon it. Along the walls lined several shelves. Harry was amazed. To think the Malfoys had such a cozy room! And so…messy too!

As if in answer to this thought, Cribsy said, “Master Harry Potter sir, bad wizards never know of this place.”

“What?” Harry asked. “Then…whose study was this?”

“Mine,” said a voice behind him.

“Merlin…” said Harry.

The man chuckled. “Oh dear, I had hoped my name hadn’t been turned into an expletive, but I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“Right,” said Harry sceptically. “You’re really Merlin?”

“In the person,” answered Merlin, his eyes twinkling not unlike Albus Dumbledore’s were prone to when presented with a colossal joke only he could understand. “Now, young sir, I take it you were looking for information on time travelling?”

“How did you know?” Harry’s mouth gaped open.

“My name isn’t Merlin for nothing, young whippersnapper,” said Merlin, his eyes infernally twinkling. “It’s quite impossible not to hear what your thoughts are broadcasting.”

“Y-you’re using Legilimency?” raged Harry. “How dare –”

Merlin looked offended. “Nothing of the sort! How crude. No, I only know because that’s all you’re focused upon. It’s almost impossible not to hear them. I, my dear young Harry Potter, am a telepath.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Why, of course there’s a difference!” Merlin’s face was grave. “Do you mean to tell me no one has ever told you this before?”

“No…I don’t even think normal people know about Legilimency,” said Harry doubtfully. “Or Occlumency, for that matter.”

“Oh dear. Well, both those arts are focused upon crude means of defense and offense. Occlumency is not as distasteful, I must add. Legilimency, on the other hand, is the ability to tear apart an opponent’s mind in order to garner information. Highly rude and cruel, if you were to ask me. These arts can be learned, though there are people with natural talent in this area.

Telepathy on the other hand…comes naturally, inherited by magical means. For example, my mentor was a telepath, and he passed it on to me. Telepaths can hear the thoughts of those around them. As such, many of those who do not deserve the gift often become mad. I was fortunate; I learned to control my gift early on.

Telepaths also have a natural ability to occlude. In other words, their minds are always defended from Legilimency. Occlumens must always be on guard and must constantly keep their shields up. Telepaths have no such hardships; telepathy instantly blocks any unwelcome intrusions.”

“So I didn’t have to learn Occlumency?” asked Harry.

“Well…there are no current telepaths that I know of, except me, of course,” said Merlin. “So yes, you –” He paused. “You had to learn Occlumency??”

“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “It was the only way to keep What’s-His-Face out of my head.”

Merlin chuckled. “What’s-His-Face?”

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t know,” said Harry. “Voldemort.”

“Ah…” Merlin’s face darkened. “I have sensed his presence here many a time. I have also sense you as well…”

“Oh,” said Harry. “I was linked to him through my curse scar.” He lifted the fringe of hair from his forehead. “See?”

“I take it he…has passed on?” asked Merlin. “I can no longer sense evil emanating from the scar.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Harry, and his face darkened. “A couple days ago…along with my friends.”

“Hence your attempt to enter the past,” nodded Merlin. “Well, all my research is at your disposal. I’ve spent several centuries acquiring these, so please do not break anything.”

“Wait,” said Harry. “You mean, you can actually time travel?”

“Yes,” said Merlin. “But not in the way you want. You want to stay there, no?”

“Mhm,” nodded Harry.

“I can send myself bodily to any time,” said Merlin. “But I cannot stay there for long. Maybe…half a year or so.”

“That’s longer than what Dobby can do,” said Harry. “Maybe if I keep looking, I’ll find it.”

“House elves can travel in time?” asked Merlin.

“Oh, yes sir, great wizard Master Merlin sir,” said Dobby. “But only travel back and stay for a day. Useful for cleaning up, Master Merlin sir.”

“Ah,” said Merlin. “Indeed.” His hand reached up to stroke his beard. “Perhaps that is the missing link.”

“Sir?” asked Harry.

“Come,” said Merlin. “Let me show you what I have.”

Harry and the house elves walked towards the desk. Merlin gathered several of the documents, and laid them in order. “Now, here is Stephen Hawking’s proposal: wormholes. According to this theory, a person must travel faster than the speed of light, and has to be within a specific frame of the time-space continuum…oh, never mind. I see I’ve lost you.”

At Harry’s nod, Merlin continued. “When you use Apparition, you travel faster than the speed of light, no? Well, then, technically, you can Apparate into the past.”

“If it was that easy, why hasn’t anyone done it yet?”

“Patience, Harry. Apparition, in itself, is not enough. You must find a tear in the time-space continuum.”

“Do those even exist?”

“Theoretically, yes,” said Merlin. “But this method is not failsafe. When I first started out, I landed in an alternate universe.”

How did you – ”

“How did I know?” chuckled Merlin. “I was evil there.”

“Nice,” said Harry, grinning. “So what other theories are there?”

“Based upon Hawking’s theory, I realized we had a problem. Understand this: each action creates a separate universe. Say, Minerva McGonagall had dated Tom Riddle in her sixth year. Then Tom Riddle would not have become Voldemort,” said Merlin.

“I see…” said Harry pensively, then his face turned incredulous. “Wait, Professor McGonagall was asked out by the most evil Dark Lord of all times…and she turned him down?”

“Indeed,” chuckled Merlin. “But she had a crush on her Transfiguration professor…”

“Ugh,” said Harry. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“So,” continued Merlin, unruffled. “The second theory here is one of my first ones. I expanded upon Hawking’s proposal. What if we could, in fact, plot our course back in time?”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “But you’ve confused me AND I’ve got a headache.”

“Not to worry,” said Merlin. “It took me close to ten centuries to figure it out – well, relatively, if you – oh, never mind.

How do I explain this…ah, perfect. Harry, what is anchored to a specific place, enabling you to enter said place?”

“Err…” Harry’s forehead creased. “A Portkey?”

“Exactly!” said Merlin. “Not a total lost cause, then.”

“Hey!” objected Harry. “That’s offensive.”

“My dear Harry, you do know I’m only teasing you,” said Merlin with a chuckle.

“But seriously, is it really that simple?” Harry asked. “Only Apparition and Portkeys involved?”

“And the rip in time-space continuum,” said Merlin. “I’ve found several already, so no need to worry.

Now, the only problem with this is…you need to place a Portkey on the day before the day of your arrival. I did this by placing a specially designed Portkey, but it took me several tries to end up in this universe. And I had to wait half a year before I ended up in my time before…anyways, it doesn’t matter.

“On second thought it does…but I’ll come back to it. Now, the final of my work involves travelling to the future –”

“But I don’t need –”

“Think about it. When you, and your past self reach the same age, won’t you merge? That’s the difficulty of travelling in time when you still exist.”

“But won’t I grow too?” protested Harry.

“Interesting…I don’t actually know, since I tend to only stay a few days here and there. But surely your soul is the same, no? Won’t you two have to share the same soul, thereby merging?”

“But your soul is defined by who you become, right?”

“A little more than that, but yes, I suppose you could say that,” Merlin stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Your soul is pure to begin with, and your life’s experiences define it. I suppose that wouldn’t be a problem then. Well done, Harry, you’re improving quite quickly.”

“Hilarious,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.

“But it would be very suspicious if you were to show up with the same genetic make-up as Harry James Potter.”

“I AM Harry James Potter!”

“Not in the past, you can’t be,” said Merlin. “You stay once at St. Mungo’s and the entire world will know.”

“So I don’t get hurt,” argued Harry.

Dobby giggled behind his hands. “It’s impossible for Sir Master Harry Potter, great wizard Master Merlin, sir.”

“Hey!” Harry objected. “You know, half the time I did get injured in second year was your fault. Besides, it’s not like I’ll have evil wizards after me.”

“No, but they’ll be after the younger one, and knowing you, you’ll probably be watching over him,” said Merlin. “So yes, I think it is reasonable to deduce that you will be injured.”

“I hate logic,” said Harry grumpily. “Fine. So, oh-most-venerable wizard, how do I set about changing my genes?”

“If I was so revered, my dear boy, my name wouldn’t be used as an expletive,” chuckled Merlin. “I found a spell to do just the thing in the eighteenth century, I believe, though I had help from the twenty-third.”

“Okay, stop, you’re making my head hurt,” said Harry. “So where’s the spell?”

“Hmm…let me see,” said Merlin, rummaging around in his papers. “I put it here somewhere…”

“This is what happens after you live thousands of years,” muttered Harry. “You go barmy.”

Dobby and Cribsy let out peals of laughter. Merlin didn’t turn around, though he did say, “I heard that.”

Harry began to look at the diagrams on the table. “So, Merlin, what you said before in short is this: a) I go back with Dobby to place the Portkey, b) come back and find the rip thing, c) Apparate or use another portkey to the portkey in the past…wait. You said you can only stay half a year. I need more time than that! I might be able to save my mum and dad, but I want to kill off Voldemort too!”

“I told you I was coming back to that,” said Merlin. “Though I was originally going to place the portkey for you, since I need to go back to that time anyways.”

“Well, Dobby and I could do it,” said Harry. “And we can put yours there too, while we’re at it.”

“Capital idea, young fellow,” said Merlin. “Aha! Here it is: partum novus mihi. It doesn’t require any intricate wand movements. But you have to do it.”

“Great,” said Harry dejectedly. “I’m probably going to mess it up.”

“You also have to picture what you want to look like,” said Merlin. “So do a little research. I suggest you find someone related to the Potters. If you don’t, you’ll be in a lot more pain for a long while.”

Harry blanched. “What if I end up looking like a James look-alike?”

Merlin sighed. “I guess I do have to do everything.

You don’t have to worry about that. Look,” said Merlin, pointing to a chart on the wall. “Your grandfather, Charlus Potter married Dorea Black, and they had James, who had you.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, look here,” said Merlin. “Charlus Potter had a younger half-brother, Albert Fitzpotter, illegitimate, might I add,” said Merlin. “He disappeared with his mother soon after he turned eleven. I’m certain we can create a plausible back story with this. At this age…you could be his son!”

“He really disappeared?” asked Harry. “And he’s definitely not going to turn up? I mean, I’d look crazy if he’s still alive and he’s never been married!”

“Oh, the Wizarding World proclaimed both him and his mother dead around 1978, I believe,” said Merlin. “I went back once to look for him, but I could never find him.”

“Wait, why did you look him up?” asked Harry. “And how can you be sure he’s not just some really talented bloke?”

“Because he’s a squib,” said Merlin. “I looked him up for a study, that’s all.”

“A study?” asked Harry, but when Merlin shook his head, he dropped the subject. “So, who is he hypothetically married to?”

“Well, do you prefer to have a magical mother, or a squib mother?” inquired Merlin. “Or perhaps a plain Muggle one?”

“Muggle might be better,” said Harry thoughtfully. “That way, the Wizarding World can’t trace her.”

“Excellent,” said Merlin. “Now, let’s see…” He went to a nearby shelf, and pulled out a large briefcase. “Interesting things, these Muggle briefcases. Now…how old are you?”

“Err…nineteen?”

“Really,” said Merlin absentmindedly. “Your mother’s name?”

“I don’t know…”

“Okay, let’s come back to that. So, your name?”

“Err, Alexander…”

“Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin. “Excellent name. Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter. You know any French?”

“Well, Fleur taught me some,” said Harry. “I know enough to get directions, but that’s about it.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I have a very handy spell here,” said Merlin. “It’s permanent though, and you can only learn one language from it.”

“Wait, then why’d I have to spend so much time learning French then?” asked Harry, exasperated.

“Because it’s my personal invention, that’s why,” said Merlin. “So, is it French then?”

“Will my English have a French accent?” asked Harry. “’Cause that’d be bad…”

“No, you won’t,” said Merlin with a laugh. “Perfect French and perfect English.”

“Good,” sighed Harry with relief. “I don’t think Ron would ever let me live it down.”

Merlin started thrusting papers at him. “Okay, here’s your birth certificate, these are your O.W.L.s and your N.E.W.T.s, your citizenship…am I missing anything?”

“Only my apparition license,” joked Harry.

“Ah, here,” said Merlin. “Okay, let me fix your language deficiency.”

“Language deficiency my ass,” said Harry, while Merlin was performing the spell. “Je n’ai pas stupide.”

“Oui,” said Merlin. “Tu es un bête.”

“Now,” said Merlin. “Speak to me in English.”

“Quel – woah, sorry, wrong language,” started Harry, then paused. “Wicked! I can speak French!”

“Yes, yes,” said Merlin, in an almost patronizing tone. “Now, to change your appearance, do you remember the incantation?”

“Partum novus mihi,” recited Harry.

“All right. Now, all we have to do is pick a name for your mother. Marie Cherise Fitzpotter, née…Legrand. How’s that?”

“All right, I guess,” said Harry. “Now, what does she look like?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Merlin. “All we have to do is take the new you, and then create her off of you. So, what do you look like?”

“What can I keep?” asked Harry, almost sadly. “I know I won’t be able to keep my eyes, but what about everything else?”

“Well, let’s see. The hair can stay, but let’s change the colour. A lighter brown maybe?”

“Can I have tamer hair this time around? My hair always looks like a bird’s nest when I wake up in the morning,” said Harry, making a face.

“Your call,” said Merlin. “You can look any way you want, as long as you keep one Potter trait. So, do you want to keep your face structure, or your height? Perhaps you should keep your face structure the same. It’ll be easier to acclimatize you.”

“Wait, I can change my height?”

“Why not?” asked Merlin. “How tall are you now?”

“About 172.7 cm, why?”

“Well, you can give or take two inches, or 5.1 cm,” said Merlin. “So, do you want to be taller or shorter?”

“Taller, obviously! I hated being shorter than Ron,” said Harry.

“All right then,” said Merlin. “What would that be…177.8 cm. I love Muggle calculators.

Now, your eyes? What colour should they be? Maybe a sea green, or bright blue. Or maybe hazel?”

“If my eyes were hazel, wouldn’t they think my dad and I are twins?” objected Harry. “But I don’t fancy myself having blue eyes either. And if I have a dimmer green, I’ll still look almost the same.”

“Amber? Grey? Brown?”

“Grey…” said Harry. “That sounds good.”

“All right, hair colour, check. Hair type, check. Eye colour, check. Facial structure, check. Height, check. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “Now what?”

“Well, picture it for me, and let me see how it looks,” said Merlin. Seeing Harry’s look, he sighed. “All right, let’s do this the hard way. Okay, we’ll have to take a picture and then modify it.”

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” asked Harry.

“Because I thought you were intelligent enough without the unnecessary process,” said Merlin, while snapping the picture. “Apparently not.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to insult my intelligence,” protested Harry as he watched Merlin modify the picture. “So what’ve you got?”

“This,” said Merlin, and he placed a picture on the desk.

“That’s not me, is it?” asked Harry.

“Of course not!” exclaimed Merlin.

“Then who is it?” asked Harry.

“Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin.

“So that is me!” said Harry, and a realization came to his head. “You hateful old man!”

“Your fault you fell for it,” said Merlin. “It’s not my fault you’re so naïve. Maybe we can improve your brainpower, while we’re at it.”

“Hey!”

“Anyways, does that look good enough for you?” asked Merlin. “You can change into that now, if you like.”

“Yeah, I guess…” said Harry, after a pause. “But…could you take a picture of me now? So I remember what I look like?”

Merlin took a new picture, and gave it to him. “Here you go. So, remember, partum novus mihi. By the way, the missing genes…will come naturally with the look. I’ve already factored in Albert Fitzpotter, and his wife. So don’t worry about it.”

“All right, not going to worry,” said Harry. “I’m so ready for this.”

He turned the wand on himself, and carefully pictured the man portrayed in the first picture. “Partum novus mihi!”

What was going on? Why was the world spinning? And why did he hurt so much? As quickly as it had come, the feeling was gone. The last thing he saw was Merlin’s face…before he blacked out.

********

“Master Harry Potter sir?”

“Are you awake, Sir Master Harry sir?”

Harry groaned. What happened? Why was he on a bed?

“Ah, my dear Harry, you’ve woken up at last,” said Merlin with a chuckle.

“Oh, Merlin,” said Harry, falling back onto the bed.

“You know, I’d really appreciate people not using my name in place of swear words. I mean there’s really no point to calling me, is there? Though I used to answer once in a while and scare them…Never mind. Here’s a muggle picture of your mother, father, and you together. It took us close to two hours,” said Merlin. “Come, Harry, we still have a lot to do.”

Harry took the picture into his hands. “Wow, thanks.”

The four of them walked back into the study. Merlin pointed to a desk on the left that previously had not been there. Upon the desk sat several large books, with bookmarks sticking out of them. There was also a pile of paper on top of the books. “There,” said Merlin. “Go learn your entire family history. I have to work out with the house elves how you can stay longer in the past.”

“All right,” said Harry, and seated himself on the table. Hopefully not all of this would be just his family…that’d be awful. As he sat down, he glanced at the mirror in front of the desk. His face remained relatively the same, but his eyes had changed shape as well as colour. Instead of the wide green eyes, his eyes were smaller and grey. His russet brown hair was long, extending back to just past his shoulders. He looked like a hippie.

“Hey, Dobby?”

“Yes, Sir Master Harry sir?”

“Could you err, help me tie my hair back?” asked Harry. “Not a full ponytail, but lower, you know?”

“Ah, Sir Master Harry would like a lower than neck ponytail?” Dobby’s hands moved quickly.

“Yes, perfect,” said Harry with relief. “Thanks.”

“Sir Master Harry is welcome,” said Dobby. “Dobby is going back to work now.”

He stepped back, and looked at himself. When he was at his original height, he looked almost stocky. Now, he was a lot leaner. If he gained a few muscles, he would look…decent. He frowned. Maybe he should’ve picked blue eyes. Oh well, either way, he still looked good.

He poured through the books, and was utterly fascinated. Who knew the Potters had so many scandals? He was so absorbed he didn’t even hear Merlin’s shout. It wasn’t until Dobby shook him that he heard Merlin’s exuberant yells of “EUREKA!”

Harry shook his head. Ancient was as ancient does. “So, what’ve you found?”

“What do you know about Portkeys?” asked Merlin excitedly.

“Well, when you use them, they get you to the place you want,” said Harry.

“Yes, yes, but how is it made?” asked Merlin.

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, that’s not really important,” said Merlin. “Except for the fact that Portkeys don’t last long because they’re linked to human magic.”

“So?”

“Well, human magic cannot be drained exhaustively, right?” asked Merlin, playing the patient teacher. Harry nodded, and Merlin continued. “Well, thus, the Portkeys don’t last for very long. The person who uses the Portkey attaches his magical signature upon it, and the Portkey uses the person’s inner magic to fuel it. Thus, when your magic senses it is in danger of being drained, the Portkey automatically detaches itself.

Wild magic, on the other hand, is not so. Since it is continuously being refilled, there is no danger of this. So we can use this to anchor you to the past!” exclaimed Merlin. “All we have to do is use a small portion of your magical signature – you have a lot of magic in your core to spare anyways. The rest of the magic needed to fuel the Portkey we will use wild magic.”

“Wait, Merlin,” said Harry. “I-I can use wild magic.”

“You can?” Merlin’s eyes almost popped out.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I called it from under Hogwarts in order to defeat Voldemort.”

“Excellent,” said Merlin. “Well, you know, you could go right now.”

“I suppose,” said Harry. “But what about money?”

“Don’t worry, Master Harry Potter,” said Cribsy. “Dobby and Cribsy have already taken out all the money from the Black and Potter vaults. And we have your trunk over there.”

“T-thanks, Cribsy, Dobby,” said Harry, his throat dry all of a sudden. “We should place the Portkey in the past now.”

Merlin placed a Portkey in his hand. “Now, to link it, call forth the wild magic. A normal Portkey has a trigger placed on it, in order to activate. This one does no such thing; it will create an anchor for you. You will be linked to it and will gravitate towards that Portkey when you Apparate with it tomorrow. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded. “Dobby?”

“Yes, Sir Master Harry?” asked Dobby.

“Can you bring me to October 30th, 1981?” asked Harry.

“Yes, Dobby can!”

Without so much of a “get ready”, the two of them were hurtling through a dark tunnel. Harry almost threw up, but he closed his eyes to stave off the feeling. It seemed like forever before they came out the other end.

“We is here, Sir Master Harry sir,” said Dobby.

“Dobby, while we’re here, please call me Alex,” said Harry. “After all, that is who I am now.”

“Yes, Sir Master Alex sir,” said Dobby.

“Now, we should go to Godric’s Hollow,” said Harry, or rather, Alex. “We need to be close by when Voldemort attacks.”

“Yes, Sir Master Ha-Alex, sir,” said Dobby. “Should Dobby ‘pop’ us over?”

“All right,” said Alex. “It’s not going to hu – ”

Seconds later, they popped just outside the forest surrounding the house.

“That’s funny,” saidAlex. “I thought Dumbledore had this under Fidelius.”

“Sir Master Alex is right,” said Dobby. “But since we is knowing about it already, we is able to see the house.”

“Oh,” said Alex. “That makes sense.”

He took a look around. “Hey Dobby, can you make us invisible? I don’t want to use my magic. They’ll definitely notice it.”

“Yes, Sir Master Alex sir,” said Dobby.

Confident, Alex summoned the wild magic he had felt before. True to its name, it was wild, but at Alex’s touch, it tamed. In no time at all, the Portkey was anchored to this time and place. “All right Dobby, we can go now.”

“But Sir Master Alex sir?” said Dobby. “Would Sir Master Alex sir be liking to see his parents?”

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt,” said Alex. “But just one peek, and then we’re out of here.”

They crept up the hill, being very careful to stay silent. They took a look into a window.

“James?” said Lily. “Do you mind holding Harry for a bit? My arms are getting tired.”

“No problem, Lils,” said James. As soon as he had Harry in his arms, He bent down and kissed Lily. “Go to bed, Lils, I can take care of him.”

“I’m too scared to,” replied Lily. “Oh, James, what if he comes?”

“Well…” said James. “We’ll just have to knock him down.”

“No, really,” said Lily.

“I’m scared too, love,” said James. “But we have to trust Dumbledore. And the Fidelius Charm.”

“I know,” said Lily. “But I just can’t but help feel a little nervous. I’m going to go write a bit, all right?”

James nodded, and Lily walked off into an adjacent room. Alex couldn’t help himself. As soon as Lily closed the door, he opened the window, and whispered, “Lily, write down your Secret Keeper’s name.”

“W-who are you?”

Alex didn’t answer. But he stayed long enough to make sure Lily did it. If, in case something happened to them, then Sirius would still be all right. After all, Voldemort might not kill them. He shuddered as he remembered the Longbottoms; they had been tortured into insanity…it was a brutal way to go. He carefully noted where she placed her diary, and the incantation she used to lock it. He shrugged. It could come in handy.

Dobby tapped his shoulder. Harry didn’t even turn around. “Wait, Dobby, let me see them one last time.”

He gazed at Lily for the longest time, and then moved back to where James and Harry were. Alex smiled sadly. If his dad had survived…he definitely would have been loved. The way James was with his son was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. This was what he had lost all those years ago.

Alex turned to Dobby. “Let’s go back, then.”

With a pop, they were gone.

********

“Well, my boy, how did it go?” asked Merlin.

“It was all right,” said Alex. “I-I saw my parents.”

“That’s good,” said Merlin. “Hopefully tomorrow you can see them again.” He turned his gaze towards the desk Alex had been using. “Now, on your desk, I’ve also placed your resume and recommendations. You worked for la Police de la Magie in Marseilles for two years after you graduated. Cribsy has also placed your uniform in your trunk. All you have to do is look over them, and then we’ll place all the books, documents, and money in your trunk. Then, we can leave.”

“We?” asked Alex.

“I’m coming with you,” said Merlin. “And Cribsy and Dobby have requested to do the same.”

Alex felt like crying. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter,” said Merlin.

Soon, he was ready to go. Cribsy had updated his trunk similar to Moody’s old Auror trunk. Everything fit in perfectly, and when the trunk had closed, Alex shrank it and placed it in his pocket. “I’m ready to go.”

“All right,” said Merlin. “Now, let’s go down the stairs.”

They walked out of the portrait frame, and through the library. At the outside, Alex stopped, and took a deep breath. “I-I can’t believe this is happening.”

Merlin’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it is.” His voice suddenly took a more serious tone. “At the very bottom, wait for me.”

The four of them walked down in silence. By the thousandth step, Alex was ready to stop again, until he saw a dim light at the bottom. “We’re almost there!”

“Be very light in your walking,” Merlin cautioned. “The rip in the time-space continuum is very delicate. One wrong move could upset the entire thing.”

Alex was so very tired, but he managed to tiptoe all the rest of the fifty steps down to the bottom.

“We should take a break before continuing,” said Merlin. “I brought some food.”

When Alex didn’t move to take the food, Merlin frowned. “You need all the strength you have to go through with this. And you have to fight with Voldemort again as soon as you arrive. I would take the food, if I were you.”

Relunctantly, Alex took the sandwich proffered. “Mmm…this is good!”

“I’m glad you think so,” said Merlin. “Dobby, Cribsy, feel free to eat.” The only sound they heard were the munchings of the four people around them. Alex, feeling peculiarly awkward, spoke, “Merlin, what time will we be arriving?”

“I don’t know specifically,” said Merlin. “But near whatever time you placed the Portkey on the other hand.”

“Oh, that’s fine then,” said Alex. “We arrived at four in the afternoon, and Voldemort didn’t attack until close to eight.”

“Yes, that should be fine,” said Merlin, who had, by now, finished his lunch. “Are we all ready to go?”

“Yeah.” “Yes, Sir Master Merlin, sir!” “Yes, Master Merlin!”

“All right,” said Merlin. “Now, place one foot in frame. Hold tightly to each other, and think of the Portkey on the other hand. Ready? All right, Apparate!”

With a whoosh, they were gone. The instant they were gone, the reality Alex and the house elves had inhabited collapsed on itself, and began to merge with another. It was over.

Godric's Hollow was burning. Billows of smoke polluted the skies, and at the centre of all the commotion was one fallen house.

Alex froze, looking on in disbelief. Without a second thought, he rushed to the scene, pushing through the crowd gathered in front.

Merlin sighed, and applied a glamour charm from afar. It wouldn't do to have anyone see him like this.

Alex didn't even notice. He tore into the house, ignoring the fallen debris.He sprinted reckelessly, his heart thumping, hoping against hope that he would find his parents alive. It was not to be, however; he noticed the fallen figure in the living room. James. It was obvious there was no life left in the body, but he checked anyways. No, there was nothing.

He wanted to collapse right then and there, but he pushed onwards up the stairs towards the room where baby Harry had been placed. He opened the charred door, noticing the pile of crumpled clothes in the corner. Opposite...lay his mother.

He fell on his knees, holding her. "Why, God, why?" He sobbed, the anguish evident in his voice. "You gave me another chance...just for me to screw it up again? Why?"

He buried his head into his mother, breathing in her scent. "Why did you have to die twice, Mum? Why?"

A wail broke his train of thought, and Alex smiled grimly. "Oh, Harry..."

A hand clasped onto his shoulder, and Alex turned around, too broken to even attack or defend himself. Fortunately for him, it was only Merlin. "Come, Alex, we need to leave before Albus Dumbledore comes."

Alex gently laid his smaller self into his mother's arms. It would be the last time he would ever be in that position, and Alex was somehow comforted by his own actions. He gently laid a kiss on his mother's cheek, and closed the door. He walked down the stairs, and closed his father's eyes. Alex held his hand for a moment, and then let go. He walked out the door, never to return.

Merlin took a look back, and murmured quietly, "May they rest in peace forever."

********

Alex stared at the house, watching Albus Dumbledore and Hagrid take his younger self - no, Harry. In one single day, one child's life had been turned upside down - from perfection to abuse. It was indeed a tragedy.

Merlin looked at him. "Alex...I'm sorry we couldn't make it."

Alex snorted. "The bastard came early. You couldn't have known."

"Even so," said Merlin. "It shouldn't have escaped me."

"It can't be helped," said Alex dully, until a thought popped into his mind. "Wait, can't I just go back and change it?"

"I'm afraid not," said Merlin, shaking his head sadly. "You can only change a single event once. Once you do so...there is no turning back."

"But I haven't changed anything," argued Alex. "Voldemort killed my parents - again."

"I'm sorry, my dear boy," said Merlin. "Somehow in your arrival, or rather, our arrival, we changed the time of the attack."

"Bollocks!" shouted Alex. "Who made up these stupid rules anyways?"

"God," said Merlin, fighting an urge to chuckle. "Or if you want, Fate."

Alex faced the sky. "It's called free will, dammit!" He sat down on a nearby log, his hands on his head. "What am I going to do now?"

"You could always go back," suggested Merlin. "But while you're here, why don't you make the changes you want? After all, just because your younger self doesn't have your parents doesn't mean he has to go to those despicable relatives of yours."

Alex looked thoughtful, before a dark shadow passed across his face. "Let me think about it. I need...time."

"Very well," said Merlin. "But remember, you need to set up your identity if you do plan on staying. I'll wait for you in Marseilles. The main entrance of the French Magic sector is located on le Rue Château d'If. Muggles won't be able to see the entrance, not unlike your Diagon Alley - it's called le Boulevard du Vaillencourt. Anyways, the entrance is located in an antique shop, l'Adelais. That's where I'll meet you. You can't miss it."

"All right," said Alex, still facing the ground. "I'll be here for a while."

"Dobby and Cribsy stay with Master Alex Fitzpotter," said Cribsy. "But where Dobby?"

Dobby popped in. "Here, Sir Master Alex, sir. Dobby brought Sir Master Alex's mother's diary for Sir Master Alex."

Alex looked up in surprise. "Thank you, Dobby. I almost forgot about this."

Alex placed it on his lap, and looked at Merlin. "I'd like to be alone for a while, thanks."

Merlin nodded, and he Apparated away. "A bientôt, Alexandre."

********

Once Merlin reached le Boulevard du Vaillencourt, he casted a spell around the general vicinity. This spell provided the background Alex needed, and if anyone asked, Alexandre Fitzpotter had indeed existed, albeit vaguely. The general impression everyone had was that he was a quiet young man who was polite, and was known for his talent in catching criminals.

Merlin walked into le Gouvernement de Magie, invisible. He adjusted a few records, placing Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter's file in the appropriate places. Finishing this, he walked into le Section de la Police de Magie, and casted a more complicated spell on all the occupants. Here, they would know more about Alex than the generalities. Merlin moved on, towards the higher-ups. He spotted an office not in use, and began the preparations. Within minutes, the office was now Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter's. Merlin paused. It would look very suspicious if it was so immaculate, so he decided to make it look lived-in. Then, he moved up to the higher-ups: the Department Head, the Assistant Department Head, and all the relevant people Alex "dealt" with on a regular basis. He even created a team of people under Alex, and many cases that day were suddenly "solved" under the supervision of Alex. Having completed this, Merlin took it upon himself to purchase a flat in one of the quieter neighbourhoods. Here, he also changed the memories of Alex's neighbours.

‘What a masterpiece,' thought Merlin. ‘Yet...There's no doubt in my mind Alex will return, since he has believed he has failed. I doubt he even can... though I should probably check.'

He flicked his wand, and waited. Nothing happened. "What?" he said, shocked. "That can't be right. That would mean..."

His brain turned rapidly. "That means he destroyed the other universe! Well, I knew he was important, but not to that extent. What are you playing with, Fate?"

"Oh well," said Merlin. "I might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. Speaking of sitting...this flat's completely empty. Time to decorate!"

Several hours later, there were furnishings in every room, and it wasn't garishly done either, despite what Merlin seemed to like (by the looks of his clothes, anyways). The living room was as tame light yellow, with beige couches. On the walls were paintings, and the floor was wooden-panelled. The dining area was a lit with the sunshine coming through the windows, and there was a modest table in the middle, with about four chairs. The kitchen had plain tiles, but marble countertops. The cupboards were all wooden. The first bedroom was a light blue, and the bedcovers were a dark blue. The bed frame itself was made of oak, as was the desk in the corner. The other two rooms were the same, but with different colours, one a light green, and the other a light pink. The bathrooms had marble floors, massive tubs, and showers off to the side. Merlin smirked, satisfied with his work. Even if Alex didn't live here, it didn't mean he himself couldn't have this place.

********

Back in Godric's Hollow, Alex had started reading his mother's diary. It offered him a chance to smile, despite all the pain he had endured the last few weeks. It spanned almost all her years from her graduation date to this very day. He had never really known anything about his mother, other than the fact that she had been his old Potions Professor's one and only love and that she loved Charms and Potions. Heck, he didn't even know what she did for a living. But in this diary...Alex had learned everything about her. She was no longer some ghost from the past, but a real, living person who had faults just like everyone else. A part of him wanted to keep smiling, but there was something else that made him want to go on his knees and beg for another chance, despite all that Merlin had said previously.

Dobby tapped him. "Sir Master Alex?"

"Yeah, Dobby?" asked Alex, without looking up. "What is it?"

"Sir Master Alex Fitzpotter must look," whispered Cribsy. "It is most important."

Alex looked up. "Mum, Dad?"

"Do we know you?" asked James, puzzled. "Though you do look familiar."

"Well...I suppose since you're gone it doesn't matter, right?" Alex looked at the house elves' confirmation, and when they nodded, he continued. "My name is Alex Matthieu Fitzpotter in this world, but where I come from, my name is Harry James Potter."

"Really," asked James, sceptical.

"How?" asked Lily. "Our son is but fifteen months old. How can you be our son?"

"I'm, err, from the future," said Alex sheepishly. "I thought I'd come back and save you, but as you can see, I kinda failed."

"Well, Harry," said James. "I don't blame you for trying. But what's meant to be...sometimes is meant to be."

"But," added Lily. "Before you leave, you have to make sure either Sirius or Alice will take care of him."

Alex's head shot up. "You mean, I wasn't supposed to go to the Dursleys'?"

Lily's face contorted, and she made a face. "My sister and her fat whale of a husband? Never!"

"That's good to know..." muttered Alex. "Though it's a bit too late now."

"You were raised by my sister-in-law?" asked James, horrified. "Merlin have mercy..."

"Don't worry, they're dead," reassured Alex. "Or well, my version of them, anyways. And Sirius is framed by Pettigrew -"

"Peter was the traitor?" asked James in disbelief. "We thought Remus was! That's why we asked him to be our Secret Keeper! How? Why?"

"I have no idea. You know, if I could tell you, I would," said Alex. "But Sirius is thrown into Azkaban, and Alice Longbottom - if this is the same person - is tortured into insanity."

"Can't you prevent this?" asked Lily. "Since you know all of this...can't you save Harry?"

"I could..." said Harry doubtfully. "But I don't know...though, I still have an hour or so to plan. Maybe I can pull it off."

"You better," said James. "My sister-in-law better not raise him."

"You'd think I'd know better than most," said Alex dryly. "Don't worry, I'll take care of him. Dumbledore and Hagrid have him right now. They'll be handing him over tonight, I think. Or maybe tomorrow night. I'm not too sure."

"We'll be watching," said Lily. "But...I know despite the best of intentions things often go awry. So promise me, Harry, if Sirius and Alice are indisposed...you will raise my son."

"You want me to raise him?" asked Alex in shock. "You trust me that much?"

"Only as a last resort," joked James, wincing as Lily slapped him.

"Sorry, Harry, James can be a bit insensitive," smiled Lily apologetically. "But I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job. Best of luck...we need to go. Someone is calling for us."

"You said that last time too, I think," said Alex. "But I'll do my best. No guarantees though."

"We understand," said James. "Goodbye, Harry. We'll see you again."

"Goodbye," said Alex as he stood, as it seemed only polite to at the moment. As they faded out from view, he gathered his thoughts. Sirius, when he heard the news, would immediately react. Which would mean...he would have to get to the scene of the crime now.

He had to get to Diagon Alley as soon as possible. He Apparated, with the house elves squealing in surprise. Dobby shrugged. When Sir Master Alex had something in mind, he always rushed to the scene without thinking. He sat down on the log again, dangling his feet, waiting for Alex to come back.

********

Diagon Alley, give or take ten years, had not changed by much. Still the same old stores with the same crowds and smells. Alex took a deep breath, and smiled. It was great to be back. It cast slight glamour charms around him - he didn't want anyone to know him just yet. It would be better if he got in trouble - being witness to a mass murder scene was definitely trouble.

He strolled towards the grate where he knew Sirius and Pettigrew would soon be battling. When would it happen? In his world, it had happened the next day, in the early morning. Here, since the time was shifted up by four hours...hopefully, it would be the same for this too.

He walked into a nearby shop, pretending to peruse the items laid out on various tables, all the while keeping an eye out the window. Fortunately for him, no one was really looking, especially since most of the items were not male-friendly. As he pushed open the door, meaning to enter the next shop, he heard a very familiar voice.

"Pettigrew!"

Already? Alex quickly bounded out of the shop, the only one to do so. Everyone else had run into shops. Could he prevent this?

"Arrêtez!" Whoops, it came out in French. Alex tried again. "Stop! What are you doing?"

"Bugger off, French boy," said Sirius angrily. "I've no time for this. I have to kill the traitor who killed my friends!"

"I killed them? W-what are you talking about, Sirius?" Wormtail was the same as ever: pathetic, whiny...but manipulative. "You killed them. You were James and Lily's Secret Keeper! You told the Dark Lord!"

Gasps could be heard all around them, but Sirius paid them no heed. "Reducto!"

If Alex hadn't been paying attention, he wouldn't have caught Pettigrew's spell - and he wouldn't have been able to duck in time. As it was, eleven people died in the crossfire. Swarms of rats descended upon the other side, swallowing the bodies and Pettigrew. When they disappeared into the grate, one particularly large rat winked at them, and shook his tail, as if in a final act of treachery. He scampered off into the grate, never to be seen again.

Alex slowly picked himself up, dusting himself off, just as the Aurors came by. People were screaming all around them, and there were fingers pointed directly at Sirius.

Sirius himself had knelt on the ground, his wand frozen in his hand, and his eyes blank and unseeing.

An Auror propped him upright and held on to him tightly, while another took witness testimonies. They hadn't seemed to notice Alex, up until he made himself known as an Auror marched up to Sirius and accused him of murder.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" screamed Alex, then realizing he had spoken the wrong language...again. "What are you doing? He's innocent!"

"What do you know, frog?" said the Auror with disdain.

"I saw it with my own eyes," said Alex coldly. "And for your information, I'm English.

"Apologies," said the Auror, clearly not meaning it. "But this man just killed Peter Pettigrew and eleven bystanders."

"You're wrong," replied Alex softly. "I can provide a memory if you like."

"So tell us what happened," said the other Auror, who was currently holding Sirius.

"This man casted a Reductor Curse - "

"Which caused an explosion, thereby killing these twelve people. Case closed," said the first Auror.

"Let me finish, you ass!" screamed Alex out of frustration.

"That's it," said the first Auror. "You're coming along too for obstruction of justice."

"Lovely," said Alex. "But what you're doing is obstruction. This man is clearly innocent, if you'll just let me explain."

"You just confirmed this man casted a curse!"

"Which isn't illegal in itself," said Alex patiently. "Pettigrew casted another curse - the Killing Curse, I believe - and it hit the already casted spell, resulting in an explosion."

"So where's Pettigrew's body then? I see eleven charred bodies right here, and one thumb," said the second Auror, who, though sceptical, was willing to give Alex a chance to explain. "Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus - a rat, to be precise. If you'll remember," Alex said to the witnesses, "There was a swarm of rats here. All Pettigrew had to do was transform and cut off his thumb."

"How do you know all of this?" snarled the first Auror. "How can we be sure you're not one of You-Know-Who's?"

Alex rolled up his sleeve savagely. "Does it look like I have the Dark Mark? I don't think so. Besides, I saw it with my own eyes. Grab a pensieve if you don't believe me."

"What he says is true," said a hoarse voice. "Pettigrew is an Animagus."

The two Aurors looked down at Sirius. "So why isn't he registered?"

"James, the rat and I were all illegal Animagi," said Sirius with a sigh. "We became Animagi in our fifth year."

"Well, then," said the second Auror to the other Aurors. "Issue out a warrant for Peter Pettigrew's arrest!" He turned to Alex. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to give an official statement...and I wouldn't mind taking a look at that memory, myself."

"All right," said Alex amicably. "And this man? Is he free to go?"

"No," said the first Auror, who had a malicious grin on his face. "He just confessed to an offense. He'll be getting three months in Azkaban, I think."

"What?" said Alex in shock. "Three months for being an illegal Animagus? Isn't it only a fine?"

"Crouch, Head of the DMLE, upped the sentence, since it's a lot easier to sneak around if you're an unregistered Animagus," said the second Auror. "But...with Black's influence, he may be able to shorten the sentence, or put it on probation."

"Oh," said Alex. Spoiled again! What was up with Fate?

"I didn't catch your name, by the way," said the second Auror. "Mine's Frank Longbottom, and that one over there is Joe Blair. He's a bit of a fanatic, if I do say so myself. So, what's yours?"

"I'm Matthieu Rousseau," said Alex smoothly. He didn't have a background yet, and it was better that no one recognized him until he had figured out his game plan. The glamours helped too. Thank God he had thought of them earlier. Plus, it would be better for Pettigrew not to know his real identity too. He didn't really want to be hunted down at this time. "Shall we proceed?"

"Black, let's go," said Blair, and violently dragged him off, despite the protests on all sides, including his fellow Aurors.

********

"So, Mr. Rousseau," said Longbottom. "Just fill this form and place a copy of your memory in the vial."

"All right," said Alex, and he flipped through the pages. One was a sheet detailing his entire account (thank God he only had to sign, and not write it out), another was his information - all faked of course. Not that they'd know...all they really needed was the memory, which Alex provided for.

"Done?" asked Longbottom. "You're free to go."

"Thanks," said Alex. "Hey, Longbottom...you might want to be careful. Death Eaters won't be too fond of Aurors, especially if Pettigrew's attempt just failed. You might want to ask for an extra detail around your house."

Frank Longbottom stared at him. "I think I'll be fine...but I'll keep that in mind."

"See that you do," said Alex with a smirk. In that moment, he had extricated the address of Longbottom Manor. He really couldn't be too careful. With Sirius out of commission, that only left Alice...and it would be nice to grow up with Neville.

He walked out the door and Apparated back to Godric's Hollow.

********

"Dobby? Cribsy?" whispered Alex. "Are you still here?"

"Of course," answered Dobby's voice. "We be not abandoning Sir Master Alex's things. We is take good care of them, of course.

"All right," said Alex. "Can you make yourselves invisible?"

"Dobby and Cribsy can be doing so, Master Alex Fitzpotter, sir," said Cribsy, and the two of them promptly disappeared.

"All right," said Alex. "We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight."

The three of them Apparated, landing in front of the pub. "Well, let's go in, guys."

"Hello! How may I help you tonight?" asked Tom in his usual jolly voice, as the door opened, revealing a dishevelled young man.

"I'd like a room plus meals, if you could," said Alex, straightening his coat.

"Well..." said Tom. "How does 10 galleons for a room sound?"

"Five," countered Alex.

"Eight and meals," said Tom.

"Deal," said Alex, and he took out eight Galleons and placed them in Tom's hand, who placed a key in Alex's.

"All right, lad, You're in room 202," said Tom. "Do you want dinner served upstairs?"

"Yes, please," said Alex. "That would be great."

Alex bounded up the stairs with his trunk levitating behind him. He collapsed on the bed, listening to the house elves cleaning the place up. "Hey, Dobby, Cribsy, you know you don't have to clean, right?"

"We is like to clean, Master Alex Fitzpotter, sir," said Cribsy.

"Oh," said Alex. "Well, don't do it all the time, all right? It'll look really weird if a room someone's just been using looks cleaner than it was going in. And Cribsy? You can call me just Alex, all right?"

"Sorry, Master Alex, sir," said Cribsy. "Cribsy be remembering that."

A knock sounded on the door. "Sir? Your food is here."

"Coming!" Alex bounded off the bed and opened the door, and took the food proffered. He also thanked her, and gave her a generous tip. As he closed the door, he said, "Hey, wanna eat now?"

"Dobby and Cribsy should not be eating with Sir Master Alex," said Dobby. "We is eating later."

"Okay," said Alex. Some things just never change. "I'll just put yours over here -"

"No, no!" both elves cried. "We is taking that! Master Alex not be serving us, no!"

"All right, all right," said Alex, his hands in mock surrender. "But your food's here."

He sat down to eat his own, and finished quickly. He checked his watch. Oops, it was time to go. "Hey Dobby, Cribsy, I'll be back later."

He ran down the stairs, two at a time, and nearly crashed into another person. He called as he ran by: "Sorry ‘bout that!"

Alex rushed out the door, and Apparated to Longbottom Manor.

********

Frank Longbottom had listened to him. Outside Longbottom Manor, sounds of battle could be heard, especially the high-pitched laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. He debated with himself. It sounded as if they could handle it - after all, there were only three Death Eaters, right?

Suddenly, he saw the tell-tale green flash of the Killing Curse, and someone's anguished cry. That sounded like someone's name! No, he should probably go see if everything was okay. He ran across the field, and saw three standing Death Eaters binding a group of Aurors. Alice Longbottom...was dead. "You're just playing games with me, God," he growled. "What's wrong with Harry having a normal life?"

At least Frank Longbottom was still alive. But he wouldn't be for long, if Alex didn't interfere. Just as Bellatrix casted another round of Cruciatus, Alex called out, "Stupefy!"

Bellatrix fell, and the other two Death Eaters turned on him. "Sectumsempra!"

"You know," said Alex while dodging the spell. "That gets really old. Reducto!"

"A worthy opponent, finally," said the Death Eater on the right, who sounded suspiciously like Barty Crouch Junior. "Crucio!"

"Naughty, naughty Crouch Jr.," said Alex chidingly. "Does your father know you're a Death Eater? Confringo!"

Something was fired behind him. Alex rolled out of the way just in time. "Rabastan Lestrange, I presume? Diffindo!"

"You seem to know us. Can we have a name? Expulso!"

"Protego Maximus!" Alex smiled. "If you keep trying to kill me, you'll never learn it. But it's Matthieu, Matthieu Rousseau."

"Well, Monsieur Rousseau," said Crouch. "Goodbye. Avada Kedavra!"

"I've already survived that once," said Alex, who dived away. "Catch this! Avis Oppugno!"

The two Death Eaters ducked, and tried to run away. But Alex was too quick for them. "Stupefy! Incarcerous!"

The two bodies lay limp on the ground, and Alex quickly untied all the Aurors. Upon recognizing one of them, he asked, "Can you contact headquarters, Blair? We need to get Frank to St. Mungo's.

"What about Mrs. Longbottom?" asked another Auror.

Alex felt for a pulse, but didn't find any. He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry...but she's dead."

"Well, what's done is done," said Blair roughly. "Thank you, Rousseau."

"You're welcome," said Alex. "You better get them back right away. I'll check on the other Mrs. Longbottom and little Mr. Longbottom."

"All right," said Blair. "George, Floo to St. Mungo's with Frank. We'll Floo to Headquarters and toss these into cells. And Paul Conrad, stay with Rousseau." They all entered the house, and quickly used the Floo.

Alex motioned to Paul to stop walking, so he could listen. Where could they be hiding? Suddenly, he heard a little whimper. Alex tiptoed to the nearby closet, and opened the door, only to have a wand pointed in his face. "Who are you?"

"Matthieu Rousseau," said Alex nervously. "We've come to see if you're all right."

"And where are Frank and Alice?" asked Augusta Longbottom.

"Err...Paul, do you mind bringing the child elsewhere?" asked Alex. "I'll tell her."

"Mrs. Longbottom...I'm sorry, but Alice Longbottom was killed," said Alex, when Paul had walked out of the room. "And your son has been taken to St. Mungo's. He suffered trauma from multiple bouts of the Cruciatus Curse."

"No..." Augusta Longbottom crumpled, and almost fell, if not for Alex's quick catch. "Not Alice! Such a sweet young thing...A-And Frank...will he be all right?"

"He should be fine, Mrs. Longbottom," said Alex, who gently laid the older woman on the sofa. "For now...I think you should stay with your grandson. Maybe go to a friend's house? Or Paul or I could stay here tonight, just in case."

"It's all right," said Mrs. Longbottom. "I-I'll go to Minerva's place tonight."

"Okay," said Alex, feeling badly for the woman. "I'd like to provide an escort, just in case. Your son will probably be in Intensive Spell Damage...if you would like to go see him tomorrow."

"Mr. Conrad?" asked Mrs. Longbottom, almost fragilely. "Could you bring in Alice once we're gone?"

"Yes, ma'am!" said Paul, attempting to salute, but was foiled by the forgotten child in his arms. He gently laid the child in Mrs. Longbottom's arms, and walked outside, then abruptly came back in. No wonder Blair had left him behind. What a dunderhead, honestly.

"Mr. Rousseau," said Mrs. Longbottom, groaning a bit. "Do you mind holding Neville? My arms aren't as strong as they once were."

"Not to worry," said Alex, and picked up the child easily. "Why don't you pack while I inform Professor McGonagall. That way, we can leave right away."

"That's a good idea," said Mrs. Longbottom softly. Alex indicated for Paul to follow her, and he himself called out into the Floo Network, "McGonagall House!"

"Hello?" a groggy voice met his call. "Who's there?"

"Sorry, professor," said Alex apologetically. "There's been an attack at Longbottom Manor and Mrs. Longbottom has requested if she can stay at your place - for safety."

"Of course!" Eyes blinked back at him. "I'll be right over."

Alex had barely enough time to stick his head out of the fire when Professor McGonagall bolted out. She primly stepped out of the fireplace, and lowered her glasses. "Well, young man, thank you."

She took a look around, and asked, "What can you tell me about what has happened here?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Jr. attacked Longbottom Manor in retaliation of Voldemort's death, I believe," said Alex. "Alice Longbottom was killed in the attack, and Frank Longbottom suffered multiple bouts of the Cruciatus Curse. He should be at St. Mungo's right now."

"Oh dear..." said McGonagall, her hand covering her mouth. "Alice, Lily, and James all gone in the same day..."

Alex was very close to breaking, himself, but for altogether different reasons. He hadn't seen McGonagall in weeks - no, months - and here she was, alive. But he kept his composure. "Yes, it was very tragic."

"It would have been more tragic if you had not come in, Mr. Rousseau," said Mrs. Longbottom, as she came down the stairs. "Mr. Conrad here has been telling me if you had not been here, my son, my grandson, and I would not have survived either."

McGonagall looked at him. Alex blushed. "It was really nothing...I heard a couple of people down at Knockturn Alley, that's all. Besides, Frank Longbottom played a crucial role in the almost-Pettigrew fiasco. It stands to reason that they might attack him...and he has defied Voldemort several times, hasn't he?"

"Why, yes," said Mrs. Longbottom. "Now, Minerva, I'm all ready to go." She turned to Alex, and her gaze softened. "Thank you very much, Mr. Rousseau. If there is anything my family can do for you, please, just ask. We are in your debt."

"Don't worry about it," said Alex. "Please, be safe. If Professor McGonagall is here, I trust you don't need me to escort you?"

"Oh, no," said McGonagall. "We're fine, but thank you for the offer."

"You're welcome," said Alex. "Well, I'll be off then. Goodbye!"

Alex strolled out the door, and he disapparated, barely able to get away when his glamours began slipping.

********

Well, Alex was in a bind. Alice Longbottom was dead, and Sirius was in prison. Albus Dumbledore would feel he had no choice but to send little Harry to the Dursleys...unless he himself stepped in. He really had to talk to Merlin.

As he entered the Leaky Cauldron, he quickly re-applied his glamours, and he headed up to his room. "Dobby? Cribsy?"

"Yes, sir Master Alex?" asked Dobby. "What can Dobby and Cribsy be doing for you?"

"We'll be leaving for Marseilles tomorrow," said Alex.

"Yes, Master Alex sir," said Cribsy.

"After breakfast, that is," said Alex with a smile. "I don't want to waste a good meal. Could you please wake me up at seven?"

"We is doing that," said Dobby. "Sir Master Alex sir is going to sleep now?"

"Yeah," said Alex, plopping down on the bed. His hand moved to remove his glasses, when he remembered he didn't have any. He quickly snuggled under his covers, and was fast asleep in minutes.

********

He walked into the International Floo-Port, dragging his trunk behind him. The two house elves were invisible, but Alex could hear them giggling all the same. He walked up to the counter, where the international floo tickets were sold.

"Hello, sir," said the person behind the counter. "How may we help you today?"

"I would like to go to Marseilles," said Alex. "Preferably today."

"Ah," said the lady. "Nice place, this time of year. Could I see your passport?"

"Indeed it is," said Alex as he presented his passport. "How much does it cost?"

"Ten galleons," said the lady. "The Floo opens again in five minutes. Your floo port is A53, over there on your right."

"All right, thanks," said Alex, and he took the ticket. Walking to A53, he presented his ticket to the person monitoring the floo network, and soon, it was time. He entered the Floo. It wasn't unlike a normal Floo trip, just longer. The house elves, thankfully, had decided to just Apparate there. About an eternity later (or so he felt), he finally came out the other side. He showed his passport and the ticket on the other side, and he walked out of the building. Across the top of the exit were the words, ‘Bienvenue'. Welcome, indeed.

He was in le Boulevard du Vaillencourt, and he quickly scanned the shops. The place was a lot nicer than Diagon Alley, and it sparkled. The French really overdid things. There were fountains all over the place, and it seemed as if there was no dirt on the floor. Alex was in awe, until he remembered he shouldn't act like a tourist.

He strolled down the street, looking surreptitiously around. An old man called out, "Bonjour, M. Fitzpotter!"

"Bonjour!" answered Alex. What the heck was going on here? Did Merlin already fix things? "Comment allez-vous?" Hello! How are you?

"Bien, merci, et vous?" came the reply. Good, thank you, and you?

"Comme-ci, comme ça, merci," said Alex. "Je vais à l'Adelaise." So-so, thanks. I'm going to l'Adelaise.

"Ah," replied the old man. "A bientôt!" Oh, see you then!

Everyone had something to say to Alex, from their children to his looks or his recent capture of the most notorious of criminals. By the time he reached the antique shop, he was feeling definitely disoriented. Were the French really this friendly? Or was it some spell?

"Ah," said someone behind him. "You've finally come."

"Merlin!" cried Alex.

"Please, stop doing that! Stop invoking my name!" said Merlin, chuckling. "As you can see...I've provided a plausible background for you. You will be happy to know you are one of the head officers in la Police de la Magie."

"Wonderful," groaned Alex. "No wonder everyone knows me."

"Isn't it perfect?" asked Merlin. "So how fares the child?"

"Wonderfully," groaned Alex. "Sirius still lands in prison - but it's only for three months, instead of forever - and Alice Longbottom is killed instead of being driven insane. And...to top it off, my parents made me promise to take care of Harry. But I don't know...can I really?"

"Why not?" asked Merlin. "You don't really want to give the child over to your relatives, do you?"

"Of course not," said Alex, feeling affronted. "But how? Do I just request a transfer? And how will I gain custody of Harry? The Dursleys are closer to Lily and James than I am."

"But your parents explicitly stated in their will they didn't want you to go to them, right? And in the event Alice and Sirius could not, a good wizarding family should," said Merlin. "And blood is thicker than water. Besides, you have a good reputation here. You shouldn't have any problem gaining custody. As for going to England...just say you're going over to gain custody of your cousin. That should be a good enough reason. Besides, they'll always take you back if you want to come back. The memories and feelings I placed in them are quite strong."

"Thanks," said Alex. "Now, if I'm right...I think Harry will already be in the cupboard by now."

"All the more reason," said Merlin. "Now, go. The Head of le Section de la Police de la Magie's name is Jean Michel."

"D'acc," said Alex. "Merci...beaucoup." Okay, thanks...a lot.

"Bonne chance!" said Merlin. "L'addresse de ma residence est dans le dossier." Good luck, the address of my house is in the file.

"Dossier?" asked Alex, and sighed when Merlin shoved it into his hands. "Ah, merci. Je vais te contacter quand j'ai finis mes affaires." File? Oh, thank you. I will contact you when I'm done.

Alex left the building, and ran into le Gouvernement de la Magie building, and bounded up the stairs where a sign indicated was le Section de la Police de la Magie was. Immediately, people surrounded him, asking if he was all right, why was he late, and several other things. He answered them in generalities, and pushed towards the office of Jean Michel.

He stopped in front of the door that bore the man's name, and took a minute to compose himself. He knocked. "Entrez!" Enter.

"Bonjour, M. Fitzpotter," said the man sitting behind the desk. "Comment ça va?"Hello, Mr. Fitzpotter. How are you?

"Ca va bien, merci, et vous?" All right, thanks, and you?

"Ah, comme ci, comme ca," said Alex. "Mes cousins sont morts il y a deux jours. Leur enfant n'a plus des parents, et maintenant je suis accrédite comme gardien. Mais le petit est en Angleterre maintenant. Alors j'ai demande d'être transfère au Police de la Magie anglaise." Ah, so-so. My cousins...they were killed yesterday. Their baby no longer has parents, and I know I have been named his guardian. But he is in England right now. So I decided to ask for a transfer to the English Department of Law Enforcement.

"Les Potters?" asked Michel. "Pas de probleme, je cais les demander si c'est possible."The Potters? No problem, I can ask them if it's possible.

"Oui, c'est les Potters," said Alex. "Merci, Directeur." Yes, it's the Potters. Thanks, Director.

"Ce n'est pas un problème," said Michel, and picked up the phone. "Ah, M. Crouch? Yes, yes. I have a favour to s'ask of you. One of my best officers ‘as asked for a, what you say - transfer to England. Do you have room for ‘im?"

There was an unintelligible reply. "Ah, oui, d'acc, zat is for ze best zen. Oui, ‘e has captured many criminals here. ‘is name? Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter."

Another set of mumbling. "Ah oui, merci, M. Crouch."

Michel placed down the phone. "Il m'a dit qu'il y a une ouverture d'enseignment." He said there is an opening for teaching at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts? That was too much of a coincidence. "Il n'y a aucune opportunité pour de travail en commisseriat de police?" There is no opportunity for police work?

"Non," said Michel. "Mais, le veux-tu?" No, but do you want it?

"Oui," Alex finally said after some thought. "Quand peux-je commencer?" Yes, When can I start?

"Immédiatement," said Michel. "Pourtant, d'abord, tu dois rencontrer le principal de l'ecole." Immediately. Though, the Headmaster would like to see you first.

"D'acc," replied Alex. "Merci, Directeur Michel."

"Pas de problème," said Michel, and he waved his hand. "Bonne chance...si vous avez besoin d'aide ou votre travail ici, je suis disponible." It's not a problem. Good luck...if you need help or your job here, I will give it.

"Merci beaucoup," said Alex gratefully. "Au revoir!"

He quickly left the building, and he ran to the address Merlin had given him. "Merlin!"

"Yes?" said Merlin as he opened the door. Alex gasped out, "I've got a job at Hogwarts!"

"Congratulations!" said Merlin. "Now, are you going back to England?"

"Yeah," said Alex. "But I don't want to spend another ten galleons on International Floo."

"You could just Apparate there," said Merlin. "After all, I'm sure you know where the Ministry of Magic is located. The Child Welfare Department is on the first level at the back, I believe."

"I can't Apparate that far!" exclaimed Alex.

"Yes, you can," said Merlin. "You have enough power to do so."

"I do?"

"Of course!" said Merlin. "But if you can't, take Dobby with you. He certainly can."

"No, it's okay," said Alex. "I think I can do it. Just let me grab my trunk...Dobby, Cribsy, are you staying or coming with me?"

"I think it's better if they stay with me," said Merlin. "I'm sure you'll come across Lucius Malfoy at some point...and I don't think you want to explain why you have his elves."

"We is free!" said Dobby indignantly.

"Your other selves aren't," said Merlin gently. "When Alex frees them, then you can go, all right?"

"We is okay with that, Master Merlin, sir," said Cribsy. "But we is doing one thing first."

She gave Dobby a look, and the two house elves walked towards Alex. Soon, he was surrounded by magic. "We is giving you protective magic, Master Alex sir."

"T-thank you," said Alex. "I'll see you soon. I'll visit..."

"Just go, Alex," said Merlin. "And remember to have fun."

"Yeah, right," said Alex, rolling his eyes. "Okay, one, two, thre -"

He was gone, leaving only a loud crack.

********

Alex landed safely at Diagon Alley without splinching himself. "Hey, would you look at that. I can actually do it! I wasted ten galleons for nothing then..."

He strolled into the Department of Child Welfare, and knocked. "Could I please see someone about adopting someone?"

"Yes sir?" asked a man behind a glass wall. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to adopt Harry James Potter," said Alex.

"Well, he's already been taken by his Muggle relatives," said the man, who's face had gone from animated to dead in three flat seconds. "And you're not the only one. Thousands of people have been in -"

"You don't understand," said Alex. "I'm a cousin on his father's side."

"Oh," said the man. "Well, please, sir, sit."

"With pleasure," said Alex. Finally.

"Now, according to the Potters' will, little Harry was supposed to go with either Sirius Black or Alice Longbottom, or any decent wizarding family, and Lily's sister as a last resort," said the man. "Now, Sirius Black has been sent to Azkaban for a three-week sentence, and Alice Longbottom was recently killed in an attack. Albus Dumbledore has also stated that little Harry should go to family..."

"For protection, right?" asked Alex, who already knew the answer to this.

"Precisely," said the man. "I don't know how much protection he'll get from Muggles though."

"Well..." said Alex. "Wouldn't it be better for me to take him? Since I do have magic?"

"If you can prove who you are," said the man. "Oh, sorry, I haven't introduced myself. Edward Campbell, at your service."

"I'm Alexandre Fitzpotter," said Alex. "I can do a blood test, if you like."

"Capital idea!" exclaimed Campbell, who quickly took out a vial. "I just need a little blood..."

Alex dutifully stuck out his hand, and looked apathetically at the blood filling the vial. "Do you really need that much blood?"

"Oh, sorry!" said Campbell. "I'm overexcited right now, is all. Okay, place the vial here..."

Sure enough, the words on top of the machine proclaimed him of Potter blood. "Excellent, Mr. Fitzpotter. Now...all we need to do is ask the Dursleys to transfer custody to you. All we need is a signature. Shall we?"

The two of them walked out the door and disapparated, reappearing in front of 4 Privet Drive. They walked up the driveway, and Alex noted the prim garden. They really never changed. Campbell knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Petunia Dursley answered the door. "Oh, it's you people again. Who do you think you are, just dumping the boy on our doorstep? We don't want him."

"Err...ma'am?" asked Campbell. "If you will sign here, this man will take custody of the child."

Petunia signed with a flourish, went back inside, and dumped little Harry into Alex's arms. "Good riddance!"

She slammed the door in their faces, and the two men stood there, shell-shocked, until they smelled the boy. Alex wrinkled his nose. "Oh man, I bet they haven't changed him since yesterday!"

"I-I should have them arrested for child abuse!" said Campbell, shaking with rage. "Treating a child like that, no less the Boy-Who-Lived!"

Alex winced. "It's all right...as long as Harry is safe now. Shall we handle the rest of the transfer back at the office?"

"Oh yes," said Campbell. "You could also change him there."

"Oh, I'm planning to," said Alex. "Definitely."

Soon, they were back at the department, and Alex quickly signed the documents and changed little Harry. With the new documents in hand, he walked out and headed towards Gringotts.

Walking up to the counter where a bored looking goblin stood, Alex asked, "Hello, can anyone help me with a private matter?"

The goblin took one look at him, and called out, "Griphook!"

So the goblin had started this early? "Yes, sir?"

"Take this man to Grattack," said the goblin.

"Yes sir," said Griphook, then turned to Alex, his face contorting. Did goblins dislike humans that much? "Follow me."

They walked towards the back, and stopped at an office door. "Grattack sir? There is a human waiting to speak to you."

"Send them in," said a low grating voice. The door opened, revealing a thin goblin behind a desk. "Well, human?"

"Greetings, most noble of goblins," Alex said, according to goblin tradition. "May the stars shine brightly upon your gold tonight."

Grattack's eyes widened. "And upon yours. May peace enter your dwelling place."

"Thank you," said Alex. "It is a pleasure, Master Grattack."

"May I have your name?" asked the goblin. "Since you already know mine."

"Sir," Alex said, while bowing again. "My name is Alexandre Matthieu Fitzpotter."

"Ah," said Grattack. "Of the Potter line?"

"Yes," said Alex. "I recently gained custody of my young cousin, who is currently the Potter heir."

"Cepheus Potter recognized your father, you know," said Grattack. "If your father is indeed Albert Fitzpotter."

"Yes, he is," said Alex.

"There is a separate vault for him, left over when Cepheus validated him," said Grattack. "Would you like to claim that as well and join it with your other vault?"

"Yes, please," said Alex. "I would also like to gain control of my cousin's trust fund and family vault. Please allow only myself or my young cousin to access it. I do not wish anyone to steal from it."

"You yourself will not?" asked Grattack, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Of course not," laughed Alex. "That leads to my other request. I'd like you to deposit all the Galleons in this bag" - he pulled out all his old vault's money - "into my vault. You see, I really have no need to take my young cousin's. I only wish to take care of it for him."

"I see," said Grattack, whose eyes had widened at the sight of the amount of Galleons on his desk. "Would you like to change your name to Potter?"

"Would it be possible for you to?" asked Alex.

"Why yes," said Grattack. "Cepheus Potter declared Albert legitimate after his wife passed on. Here's the Potter family ring. Your young charge will be given the Head of the House ring when he comes of age. Now, as for changing your name..." He did several fancy wand movements, and Alex watched as all the documents changed from ‘Fitzpotter' to ‘Potter'.

Alex slipped on the ring as he replied, "I would also like you to manage both vaults", who knew (from his future's experiences) that this goblin was trustworthy. "And I would like to see the investments made currently."

"Well, you have several holdings in Madam Malkins' and Zonko's," said Grattack, who looked over the files in front of him. "You also have several assets in the diamond industry."

"All right," said Alex. "That should be fine. I would also like you to invest in several Muggle companies - specifically Bill Gates's company Microsoft and the mobile phone company Motorola."

"All right," said Grattack, feverishly writing this down. "And my fee?"

"Five percent sound all right to you?" asked Alex. "I would also like a weekly summary as well. You can send me an owl whenever...I haven't settled down yet. It'll be able to find me."

The wheels were spinning around the goblin's head. "Why, yes, of course. I shall do that."

Alex got up. "Pleasant doing business with you. May your gold be everlasting."

"And to you as well," said Grattack, bowing in response to Alex's. "I look forward to your next visit."

********

Crap. He had forgotten about Harry! How could he go into an interview with Dumbledore with Harry in his arms? Who could he trust? He sighed. Guess he was going to have to Apparate overseas again. Could he do it with Harry along? He didn't really have any choice in the matter, did he?

He shrank his trunk, and placed it in his pocket. Tucking the child safely in his arms (who, thankfully, had slept through the entire ordeal), he Apparated - straight into Merlin's apartment. "Merlin!"

"Hello?" asked Merlin. "Oh, it's you, Alex. How was the adoption?"

"Oh, it was fine," said Alex. "I didn't realize how much my aunt didn't want me."

"Well, at least Harry will grow up being loved," said Merlin. "Don't have that interview to do?"

"Yeah," said Alex. "Could you watch Harry for a bit?"

"Of course," said Merlin, and he gently took the child into his arms. However, the minute he did so, the boy started wailing. "Oh, dear."

Alex took the child back, and Harry stopped. "Okay, Harry, be good for Merlin, all right? I'll be back for you."

Harry gave a little sigh, and fell asleep. Alex gently laid down the child, looked at Merlin, and disapparated. Destination? Hogwarts.

********

He landed just outside Hogsmeade. Now, where did the Headmaster want to meet him? In his office? At Hogshead? Oh well, he thought. Aberforth could probably ask his brother if indeed the interview was at his office.

He walked into the old, run-down pub and inn. It took a moment to adjust his eyes to the darkness inside. He walked in, and strolled up to the counter. "Hello?"

"Yes, lad, what can I do for you?" asked Aberforth.

"I have an interview with Headmaster Dumbledore..."

"Third room to the left down this corridor," grunted Aberforth. "He's waiting for you."

"Thank you," said Alex. He began walking down the hallway, and he stopped at a door half open. He knocked. "Hello?"

"Come in, please," answered a very familiar voice. Alex almost broke, but he quickly caught and steadied himself. This wasn't his Dumbledore; not yet, anyways. He gracefully opened the door, and walked towards the table where the Headmaster of Hogwarts sat. The Headmaster stood as he neared the table. "Mr. Fitzpotter, I presume?"

"Eh, not quite," said Alex ruefully, adding a faint French lilt to his English. "I discovered my grandfather had declared my father legitimate, so I have taken his name, Potter."

"Ah, I see," said Dumbledore, offering his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Albus Dumbledore."

Alex shook the hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, sir."

They both seated themselves on opposite ends of the table. As Alex was sitting down, he felt tell-tale traces of Legilimency. He quickly threw up his Occlumency walls, but let a few memories drift through, like walking through Marseilles today. He didn't want Dumbledore seeing his secrets. To his relief, Dumbledore was satisfied with what he saw. "Now, Mr. Potter, I know it's quite unusual for me to be looking for a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this late into the year, but the current teacher has been unable to teach all the levels of this course. When Mr. Crouch informed me of a transfer from France, I asked that one of his Aurors come and assist at Hogwarts. However, as you can see, you were the one offered the job.

Now, I've read your file, and you seem very accomplished for a young man. In less than two years, you've risen to become one of the top members of la Police de la Magie in France, and your record is spotless. Your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are also impeccable: I have never seen such high marks before here in the United Kingdom. Do you mind telling me a bit about yourself?" In other words, I couldn't find anything about you, so you should tell me.

Alex sighed. "I was born in France in 1962 to Albert Fitzpotter, a squib, and Marie Cherise Fitzpotter, née Legrand, a Muggle. When my father died, my mother came to Britain in search of my father's relatives, but at the time, my grandfather had already died, and his half-brother had no idea I existed. So we stayed here for a bit (about five or so years) before returning to France, where I spent the rest of my childhood.

My mother died when I was twelve. Of cholera, I was told. That was when my magic first manifested. My aunt on my mother's side took me in, and she was the one who arranged for private tutoring, rather than having me go to l'Academie Beauxbatons de la Magie. By the time I was fourteen, I was ready to take both my O.W.L.s and my N.E.W.T.s. You know how the French are really big on people who finish fast? Well, I was labelled a prodigy, and everyone sought me out. I chose to work for la Police de la Magie when I was sixteen," said Alex, who took a breath, and then continued. "When my aunt was killed for something I had done...well, let's just say no one messes with me now. That was two years ago. From then, my status and rank rapidly rose, especially when I took down a notorious werewolf - Fenrir Greyback."

"I see," said Dumbledore, who saw the haunted look around the young man's face. This was a man who had seen far too much in his lifetime. Yet...he looked familiar. "Mr. Potter, I'm so very sorry for your loss.

"It's been years," said Alex, waving his hand. "It's all right."

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Now, if you could follow me...I would like to spar with you."

"Is this part of the job requirement?" asked Alex. "Duelling one of the greatest wizards of all times?"

"You exaggerate, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "And I don't think you're too shoddy either. But perhaps the sparring can wait. I have several forms for you to fill out, and then you're hired."

"D'acc," said Alex. "What grades shall I be teaching?"

"Fifth to seventh years acceptable?" asked Dumbledore, as they walked past the gates and onwards towards Hogwarts. "The other teacher...is not up to caliber. Unfortunately, due to special circumstances, I have been unable to procure a decent teacher for several years in a row."

"You mean, Voldemort's curse?" asked Alex. Whoops, was he supposed to know that?

Dumbledore looked at him with an odd expression on his face. "You certainly are well-advised. But yes...Voldemort has coveted this position since his early beginnings. When I refused him, he casted a dark spell across the position, and terrible things happen to those who teach beyond a year. I myself cannot void the curse."

"Perhaps I could give it a try?" suggested Alex, who had broken it after Voldemort had died. "I have studied the most lethal curses in recent years, due to the numbers of Death Eaters entering France."

"If you could," said Dumbledore. "I would be in your debt."

"I'd rather break a curse than duel you, sir," said Alex. "It's got to be easier than that."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Why, you have some sense of humour, young man."

Alex blushed as they walked up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office. "Shall I sign first? Or break the curse first?"

"Sign first," said Dumbledore. "If you please."

Alex signed with a flourish. "There. Now...as for the curse, do you know what artefact Voldemort placed it on?"

"On the Defense emblem out in the Great Hall, I believe," said Dumbledore. "But that's all I know. It has been a bane of my existence for the last thirty or so years."

"Could you show me the way?" asked Alex. It wasn't on the Defense emblem, but Dumbledore didn't know that.

"Here we are," said Dumbledore.

"Ah," said Alex. "This one is a trick curse. Here..." He reached out to the curse, and broke it with his raw magic. "I believe the stronger one is elsewhere..."

He reached out with his power, running it through the entire school. Dumbledore's eyes opened in shock. Never in fifty years had he seen such raw power before! "Mr. Potter?"

"Just a second," murmured Alex. "Ah, there it is. And please, just call me Alex, Headmaster."

"If you call me Albus," said Dumbledore. "But where is it?"

"It's here," said Alex. "On all these doorways. I presume the Defense teacher must take his meals, so every time he passes by this door, the curse is re-applied."

"Very clever," said Dumbledore. "Now, perhaps I can break this one..."

"Human magic won't be able to," said Alex with a grin. "But wild magic, on the other hand..."

"No one has ever been able to use wild magic," said Dumbledore. "I've tried myself."

"You're speaking to the man who's done impossible things," said Alex, his eyes gleaming. "Watch."

Alex walked around the room, placing magical boundaries around the Great Hall. Then he closed his eyes, and used the same power he had called forth to vanquish Voldemort: "Per diligo, evinco malum!"

Pure wild magic washed over the Great Hall, eliminating all the traces of magic used for evil. Alex opened his eyes. "Albus? Can you feel it now?"

Dumbledore was shaking. Never had he seen such...power! "No, I don't," he said, his eyes widening. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," said Alex. "By the way, I felt traces of a Horcrux in the upper levels of Hogwarts. I could get rid of it, if you like."

"A-A Horcrux?" Dumbledore felt ill. "Whose is it?"

"Voldemort's, I believe," said Alex.

"He's not dead then, is he," said Dumbledore softly, and he began to sway. Alex quickly ran over to the old man, and gently led him to a chair, and seated him.

"I don't think so," said Alex. "Truthfully, he was very obsessed with immortality, was he not?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Is that the only one -"

"Here, yes," replied Alex, trying to skirt the faint line between a lie and the truth. "But there are more, I think. Voldemort would probably have made more just in case, bastard that he is."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, and he abruptly stood, his piercing blue eyes no longer twinkling, but hardened. "Who are you?"

"Alexandre Matthieu Potter," said Alex with a bow. "At your service, sir."

"Tell me the truth," said Dumbledore. "No man should have as much information as you."

"That is where you are wrong, sir," said Alex respectfully, ignoring the wand pointed at him. "My task in France was to learn as much about Voldemort in order to prepare for the then-imminent fall of Britain. You only have to look a little deeper...you were his Transfiguration teacher, were you not?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come about finding so much information? I doubt even his Death Eaters know as much as you."

"No," contradicted Alex with a shake of his head. "They don't know anything, but perhaps because Slytherin is so bent on blood purity. Tom Riddle, by being placed in that house, was indoctrinated to the point of becoming insane and zealous towards the cause. But then again, it may have been the treatment he had had in the orphanage...I can only guess.

It was quite difficult at first, to be honest," continued Alex. "I traced his rise to power. He seemed to come out of nowhere. But honestly, whose name is really Lord Voldemort? I knew it had to be a pseudonym. It didn't make sense at all, until I heard one phrase half a million times, in every one of his stupid rants on blood purity."

"What was that phrase?" asked Dumbledore, curious to the point where he dropped his wand back to his side.

"I am Lord Voldemort," said Alex. "Of course, when I jumbled the letters, nothing really made sense, or they all came to be ridiculous. For example, one man who had all the letters in his name was a squib. Another had drowned at birth. Finally, I placed together Tom Marvolo Riddle...and the rest is history."

"You are quite bright for your age," said Dumbledore. "Even when shown all the evidence, many people refuse to believe the truth."

"Sometimes, it takes a person on the outside to figure out the truth," said Alex softly. "Incidentally, Albus, I have something important to tell you."

"By all means," said Dumbledore, whose curiosity was piqued again. "Shall we retire to my office?"

"That would be for the best," said Alex, whose heart was now thudding terrifically. Was he making the right decision telling Dumbledore he had adopted Harry? A part of him whispered the consequences, but yet another told him that Dumbledore would find out anyways. He may as well come clean now...rather than later.

Dumbledore stopped at the top of the stairs, and motioned to the gargoyle to move. It stared a moment at Alex, and then moved, the door opening. They seated themselves in his office, and Dumbledore called for tea.

Time to tell the truth? Or not?

 "You don't know why I came back to England, do you?" asked Alex.

"No," stated Dumbledore pensively, his eyes gazing seriously into Alex's own. "Should I?" 

"I claimed custody of my cousin," said Alex. "And I will be bringing him to Hogwarts with me." 

"Your cousin?" 

Alex nodded. "You won't have any problems with that, will you?" 

"Your cousin?" asked Dumbledore again. "As in, Harry James Potter?" 

"Yes," said Alex. "I was told a magical relative would be given preference over a Muggle one." 

The atmosphere dampened, but Alex remained unconcerned. He had about the same power as Dumbledore himself currently, but he restrained himself from showing it. 

"He was placed there for a reason," said Dumbledore gently, after visibly clamping down on his anger. 

"He will be better off with me," responded Alex. How could he bring up the blood wards without seeming too obvious? 

"Isn't it better to have Harry raised with his cousin and his aunt? He'll have another child to grow up with, and his aunt is also much more experienced," stated Dumbledore. 

"If you want the Saviour of the British Wizarding World abused, I suggest you take him back, then," said Alex finally. 

"Abuse?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Harry is Petunia's nephew. Why would she abuse him?" 

"When I found him, he had not been changed since you dropped him off," said Alex, and continued even after Dumbledore tried to interrupt him. "In a cupboard. Campbell, the social worker, wanted to lay charges, but I persuaded him not to. But if you insist..." 

Dumbledore paled, knowing he had lost - this round, at least. 

Alex continued, "I will make sure Harry will not be spoiled, and he will have a chance at a normal life until Fate claims him. As for the blood wards, I believe I am a candidate for them, as I was able to walk right in - without you noticing, at least." 

"How do you know about the blood wards?" asked Dumbledore, shocked. 

"I felt them as I walked through them when I picked up Harry," said Alex simply. "Ingenious, by the way, but I didn't know you were capable of such Dark magic." 

"They were Lily's," said Dumbledore quietly. "But yes, we will have to apply them to your quarters." 

"We could do that now, if you haven't reconsidered hiring me," said Alex. "And I trust the trust fund will be run by me?" 

"No, you're still hired," said Dumbledore. "But yes, I will transfer it to you today...but I must insist that I see your balance every month." 

"I won't be taking anything from him," said Alex firmly. "I will be raising Harry on my own money." 

"Very well, but I must insist," said Dumbledore. 

Alex nodded. "All right. Can we establish the wards now? I'd like to establish myself before the week is over. I suppose I start next week?" 

"That would be excellent," said Dumbledore, and he opened the door. As they walked down towards the Defense professor's quarters, he remarked, "I will introduce you at the staff meeting today, that is, if you are staying today." 

"I was thinking I'd go to France first and pick up all my belongings, as well as Harry," said Alex. 

"Harry is in France?" Dumbledore inquired. "Who is looking after him?" 

"My mentor," fibbed Alex. "He led the Unspeakables inFrance for a number of years." Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either. 

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Perhaps you could bring him along? I would like to see the man who helped develop your skills. After all, you have a truly formidable reputation as an Auror in France." 

Alex gulped, thankfully not visibly. "I will ask him...but I doubt he'll agree. He's been a recluse for many years now." 

"I see," Dumbledore merely commented, and he stopped in front of a wall. "Here we are. This is an optional office and quarters, as the previous Defense teacher is still keeping his own. Your password?" 

"Err..." Alex fumbled. "Tchaikovsky." 

"Ah, the Russian composer?" asked Dumbledore. "Excellent choice." 

The quarters opened. They were quite Spartan, with wooden panels on the floor, nothing on the walls, and little or no furniture. 

"Now, your office is right next to the other professor's," continued Dumbledore. "Right next to the Defense classrooms. Professors generally don't want their students to know where they live, but you can attach your quarters to your office if you like. Would you like to see it now?" 

"Sure," said Alex. He hadn't known that when he had been at Hogwarts and filed it away for future reference. 

They walked down the halls. Thankfully, most students were in class, though those who had a free period gawped at them. A few girls even blushed when Alex looked at them. Odd. Girls had never really looked at him like that before. 

They walked past the Defense office that Snape had used in Alex's own sixth year. That office had too many bad memories. Gruesome too. Alex shuddered, remembering that had also been where Moody had been kept for an entire year. They kept walking down the corridor, and Dumbledore opened a door on the other side of the Defense classrooms. This was Remus's office in Alex's third year! Good memories were definitely better than bad memories. 

Dumbledore opened the door. "We don't currently have a desk for you, since Peeves - our poltergeist - just recently burned it."

"It's all right," said Alex. "I can transfigure something into a desk. The chairs are nice though." 

"Why, yes, they are, aren't they?" asked Dumbledore, who had brightened. "I'll leave you now to your work. Would you like to see the past curriculums for the previous years?" 

"Yes, please," said Alex absentmindedly, as he walked around the room, measuring the shape and dimensions of the room. "Thanks, Albus." 

"You're welcome," said Dumbledore. "I'll go set the blood wards now." 

"See you later then?" said Alex, as he opened the door for the older man. "I believe I'll be either back tonight in time for dinner or tomorrow for breakfast." 

"Excellent," said Albus. "I will see you later, Alexandre."

********

"Merlin!" called out Alex as he hammered on the door. "Open up, dammit!" 

He slumped on the wall next to the doorway. "Anyone home? It's Alex!" 

The door creaked open. "Hello?" 

"Thank God, Dobby! I thought I was going to wait there forever!" said Alex. 

"Sorry, Sir Master Alex," apologized Dobby. "Young Master Harry was sleeping so Master Merlin put Silencing Charm up." 

"Oh," said Alex as he walked in. He headed to the living room, where he knew Merlin was, probably tinkering with his television. "Merlin?" 

"Alex?" Merlin looked up from the floor. "What news?" 

"Oh, I'm just here to get my stuff...and Harry," said Alex. "You wouldn't know where I can get cheap furniture?" 

"No," said Merlin. "But I can come and help you with transfiguring things, if you like." 

"Oh," said Alex. "That reminds me. Dumbledore wants to meet you..." 

"Does he?" stated Merlin. "Well, I suppose I should oblige him. I haven`t seen him since he was a boy." 

Alex shuddered. "Don't do that. It's creepy...I forget you're millions of years old." 

"Not millions," said Merlin. "I haven't even lived to my first million yet." 

"Fine, thousands, then," said Alex. "But you'll have to disguise yourself. I told him you headed the Unspeakables in France." 

"I founded the Unspeakables in England, so it shouldn't be too bad. But I'll have to change my appearance, won't I?" 

"Probably," said Alex. "Anyways, so are you coming or not? I kinda want to get started on my quarters." 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here tonight?" asked Merlin. "We could go to Hogwarts for breakfast. After all, free food is always excellent." 

"All right, then," agreed Alex. "I'll Floo call Dumbledore then." He looked at the nearby fireplace. "Err, can this be used internationally?" 

"Of course," said Merlin, who looked affronted. "How else am I going to see Harry?" 

"Argh," groaned Alex. "You know how much effort it takes for me to Apparate over here? And now you tell me I could've just floo'd?" 

"Well..." said Merlin. "I need to fix your Floo on the other side first, but yes." 

"Fine," said Alex. "But I'm not Apparating over the Channel again if I can help it." 

"Mhm," mumbled Merlin, whose head was muffled by the tv he was tinkering with. "Could you go check on Harry? He's been sleeping for a while now." 

"Okay, where is he?" asked Alex, who had forgotten his charge. Some guardian he was. 

"Down the hall, second door on your left," said Merlin. "One, two...success!" 

Alex left Merlin, who was by now preoccupied with the programs and his newly fixed television. He saw the house elves in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It smelled really good. 

He opened the door quietly, smiling at the sight of a sleeping infant, with a thumb in his mouth. Walking over to the crib, he noted the nice baby blue colour of the room, and the numerous stuffed animals around the room. He stopped at the crib, and looked at the infant. He gently took the child's thumb out of his mouth, and moved to leave, when he heard a little voice, "Dada?" 

Alex turned, and walked back towards the crib. "Hello, Harry. I'm your Uncle Alex." 

Harry looked confused. "Dada?" 

"Your dad..." said Alex, as he lifted the child into his arms. "He's with the angels right now." 

"A'gew?"  asked Harry. 

"With God, baby," said Alex gently, as the child started crying. "I'm going to take care of you from now on." 

"A-lec?" 

"Yeah, baby," said Alex. "Your Uncle Alex will take care of you forever." 

"Wada," said Harry, shaking his head, then buried himself in Alex's robes. "Wada,. wada, wada!"

"Sorry, baby," said Alex. "But I can't bring them back." Even though I really want to.

"Wadama..." wailed Harry. 

Alex began bouncing the little boy. Did the child really understand him? He was only one and a half, no, less than, right now. How was this possible? 

"A-lec?" 

"Yeah, baby?" asked Alex absentmindedly, as he continued to bounce the child and rub his back. 

Little Harry placed his head against Alex's chest, and began sucking his thumb. Alex looked down at him. "Everything's going to be okay, Harry." 

********

"Staff and students of Hogwarts, please welcome our new Defense Professor Alexandre Potter," said Dumbledore. "He will be teaching the fifth to seventh years starting the week after. I trust you will treat him well. Now, time to eat! We have a great day in front of us!" 

Alex sat awkwardly in the seat next to the other Defense professor and to his surprise, Horace Slughorn. Was Severus Snape not the Potions Professor yet? 

"Hello," said the Defense teacher, sticking out his hand. "I'm Kevin Ryan, and I teach the other Defense classes." 

"Nice to meet you," said Alex, shaking the proffered hand firmly. "How have the fifth to seventh years been?" 

"A real mess," said Ryan. "I'm well qualified to teach them...but the first week I wanted to tear out my hair. They refuse to listen to me, and it's been a nightmare. I asked the Headmaster for another teacher to help me with them, as I seem to be the only teacher who has problems with them. Thing is, they treat my class like a joke now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has fallen." 

"That bad?" asked Alex. "Can I see your curriculum for this year?" 

"Sure," said Ryan. "I can get it for you after breakfast." He then seemed to see Slughorn making anxious gestures at him. "Oh, Professor Slughorn - he teaches potions- wants to meet you." 

Alex turned around. "Hello, I'm Alex Potter. It's nice to meet you." 

Slughorn shook Alex's hands profusely. "Any relations to the recently deceased Potters? What a sad thing...and they were both so talented too!" 

"Oh, James was my cousin," said Alex. "But I didn't have the chance to really know them before they were killed." 

Slughorn looked like heaven had just opened. "Indeed! And what do you do?" 

"Oh," said Alex, innerly shaking his head at the obvious ploy Slughorn was making. "I'm one of the sub-heads of la Section de la Police de la Magie in Marseilles." 

"Ah, you're a Frenchman, are you?" asked Slughorn, his eyes gleaming scarily, while trying to portray his jolly old man façade. "Wonderful! I've been to Marseillesseveral times myself. I plan to go again once I retire." 

"Retire?" asked Alex. "So soon?" 

"Oh, yes," said Slughorn. "I've been teaching almost thirty years now. I feel like taking a long break. Alas, Albus has yet to find my replacement." 

"I'm sure he will soon," said Alex. "What about the youngest Potions Master in recorded history? What was his name...Snape?" 

"Oh, yes," said Slughorn, who had deflated visibly at the reminder, but sparked with delight at the suggestion. "I suppose...not many people hire young people these days. Perhaps I will talk to Albus about him." 

"That's a good idea," said Alex. "It wouldn't hurt to find other Potions Masters from around the world, too." 

Slughorn brightened. "Excellent idea, my boy!" He waddled off before Alex could finish his idea. Alex shrugged. Oh well. With Slughorn out of the way, Minerva McGonagall now turned to him. 

"Hello, my name is Minerva McGonagall," said McGonagall, delicately stretching out her hand. "Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor, and Professor of Transfiguration. Welcome to Hogwarts." 

"Thank you," said Alex, and he winked. "We've already met, Professor." 

"We have?" asked a shocked McGonagall. 

"Matthieu Rousseau, at your service," said Alex. "But please, keep that to yourself." 

"Ah," said McGonagall, recalling the night the Longbottoms' were attacked. "You know, Augusta has been creating a huge fuss about finding you." 

"She can't find me, can she?" asked Alex with a laugh. "Rousseau was one of my aliases I used when I worked undercover several years ago." 

"Oh, indeed?" asked Minerva. 

"Yep," said Alex, fibbing. "I work with the equivalent of the Aurors in France. I currently head one of the sub-departments there, or well, I did." 

"I see," said McGonagall. "No wonder you were so efficient in ridding the Death Eaters. So what brings you to England?" 

"I recently claimed custody of my cousin," Alex pointed to the child in the disguised Merlin's arms. "My mentor is holding him. I haven't seen him let go of the child since I gained guardianship." 

"Oh, my!" exclaimed Minerva. "Perhaps you could bring him to visit later? Over tea later today?" 

"That would be all right," said Alex. "I'm not doing anything but decorating anyways." 

"Do you need help transfiguring anything?" McGonagall brightened. 

Alex was about to say no, but he saw the look on her face. "Well, my mentor and I will be fixing up the place, but I'd really appreciate it if you could look after Harry." 

She nodded. "That would be fine." 

"Okay," said Alex. "I should probably go change Harry now." 

He turned to leave, when something occurred to him. "Please don't tell anyone Harry is here. I'm raising him as my son...and I'll be fully changing his features later." 

McGonagall nodded. "Your secret's safe with me." 

Alex picked the child off Merlin's lap, who didn't really notice, as he was having a wonderful conversation with Dumbledore. Alex could feel the stares of the students, and suddenly, he was glad he had placed a glamour on the child. Harry would definitely be spoiled if everyone knew he was THE Harry Potter.

********

 "Harry, why do you have to make such a mess?" Alex groaned.The child gurgled back to him in response, and waved his arms at Alex's face. "Stop it, Harry. Stay still, or I'm not going to be able to change you properly!" 

Harry moved even more. "Harry!" 

Finally, Alex was able to wrestle the child into his diaper, and he evanesco'd the diaper. "Thank God Dobby taught me how to do this," Alex grumbled. "I don't know how I'd do this if someone hadn't taught me. How did my parents do this?" 

"Practice," answered the voice at the door, sounding vaguely amused. "The more you do it, the easier it gets." 

"Merlin! You scared me!" 

"Dear Lord, are you still using my name as an expletive?" asked Merlin. "So when is Professor McGonagall coming?" 

"Soon, Mr. Erlin," said Alex. "We can't start without putting Harry somewhere safe, anyways. That child is way too curious for his own good." 

The previous night, Harry had spooned a great mass of mashed potatoes and flung it into Alex's face. Of course, Harry and Merlin had thought it a great joke. Then Harry started flicking the peas at Dobby. Yes, wonderful night, overall. 

A knock sounded at the door. "Hello?" 

Alex went over  to the door, and opened it. "Professor, come in please." 

"Call me Minerva, Alex," said McGonagall. "After all, we are colleagues." 

"Errr, all right, Minerva," stuttered Alex. Boy was itweird to call his teachers by their first name. "Have you met my mentor, Mr. Erlin, yet?" 

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure," said McGonagall, who blushed when Merlin kissed her hand. "It's good to meet you." 

"And you, madam," said Merlin. "I don't believe I've met a lovelier woman. Please, call me Christopher." 

Alex rolled his eyes, as McGonagall blushed. "All right, Christopher. You must call me Minerva, then." 

"Certainly," said Merlin, then gave a look at Alex. "Shall we get started?" 

Do you mind taking Harry into my office?" asked Alex to Minerva. "We finished it already. All his toys are already there." 

"That would be fine," said McGonagall. "What time does Harry nap?" 

Alex looked at Merlin, who answered, "He normally likes to sleep at around 2, but he's been very excited today. I expect he'll make a fuss, but he'll sleep eventually." 

"All right," said Minerva, who lifted the child out of Alex's hands. She swept out of the room, cooing at the child all the while. 

"If I were any younger..." said Merlin wistfully. 

"Please," said Alex, rolling his eyes again. "You're a lost cause." 

"One day I'll find a way to de-age myself," said Merlin. "Then you'll see." 

"Whatever," said Alex. "So what should we start with first?" 

"The bedrooms, I think," said Merlin. "You'll be sleeping here tonight, won't you?" 

"Yeah," said Alex. "I need to get started with my plans and things." 

They walked towards the other end of the quarters, where there were three empty rooms.  Two of the rooms were connected - these would be Alex and Harry's room. The other room could be a guest room. 

"Well, I suppose I'll take this room then," said Merlin, pointing to the spare room. 

Alex groaned. "You're living here?" 

"Whyever not?" asked Merlin, gesturing flamboyantly. "Don't you want to spend time with my illustrious presence?" 

"No more if I can help it," muttered Alex under his breath, then mocked, "Why, of course not! You'realways welcome here." 

"Brilliant," said Merlin. "I knew you were a good person inside." 

Alex didn't answer. Instead, he began to work on little Harry's room. The child, for some reason, loved blue,loved green, loved yellow...the list went on and on. A small bout of accidental magic in Merlin's flat had turned the room rainbow-coloured. Alex shuddered. He hadn't been that bad as a child, was he? In any case, it was a good thing, especially if a) Harry still had his magic, and b) Harry's naturally inquisitive nature and imagination had not been dampened. Still, Alex had no plans to keep the child's room in multi-colours. He didn't really think he could stand the headache. Instead, he painted the child's room a light green, and placed blue curtains on the windows. The crib he placed off to the side, and placed the playpen on the other side. He filled the wardrobe with Harry's clothes, baby books, and...other things. On the shelf next to the crib, he placed all of Harry's stuffed animals there, and his favourite one in his crib. 

Merlin, on the other hand, had started on the guest room. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't terribly well done either. Definitely not something Alex would have done, but not Albus Dumbledore quality...yet. Maybe that was where Dumbledore had picked up his eccentricities - from Merlin himself! 

"Of course he did," said Merlin. "Though, I have to say, the Renaissance Period was much worse than what Albus wears now. I started the trend myself!" 

"Err..." said Alex. "Right." 

"My dear boy," chuckled Merlin. "I am Merlin, if you haven't forgotten. Though I wouldn't blame you if you had...that memory of yours is atrocious." 

"I'd thank you to stay out of my head, please and thank you," said Alex. "And my memory is just fine." 

Merlin nodded in a disbelieving fashion. Harry just sighed. Sometimes the old man could be such a pain in the arse. "Well, can we start on my room then?" 

"Lead on, Sir Alex!" Stupid old man and his theatrics. 

Alex placed a charm that allowed Alex to see the outside on the wall opposite his bed. This would allow him to monitor the outside of Hogwarts for intruders or any of such sort. The two adjacent walls he merely painted them a light blue. The bed he quickly transfigured from several matchsticks - it was not unlike his old Gryffindor bed, except in blue and silver. He quickly filled up the connecting closet with all his clothes; he hadn't realized he had so many! The bathrooms he merely spiffed up. No one would see them anyways. 

Merlin finished the floor, with a deep forest green carpet. He also strategically placed pictures of himself on the walls. Alex just shook his head at him, and Merlin had repentantly changed the pictures to include Alex and baby Harry. 

"You know, Harry's not going to look like that, right?"

"Whyever not?" 

"Because I don't want him to know he's the Boy-Who-Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World. It's too great a burden for him...I don't want him to know until later," said Alex, showing Merlin he had obviously given the issue a lot of thought. "If you could help me with the changing of his features?" 

"Do you want to do a blood adoption?" asked Merlin. "It might be easier that way." 

"I don't want it to be permanent," said Alex wistfully, gazing at the photo of the little boy. 

"All right," said Merlin. "I could do the transfigurations now. Perhaps Minerva has some suggestions..." 

"Pervert," said Alex, rolling his eyes. "She's a millennium younger than you." 

"Not," said Merlin, sticking out his tongue in an all-together childish manner, then stomping off. "Are you coming?" 

The two men walked to the Defense office, which sadly still looked under-prepared. Alex made a mental note to place several...eccentric gadgets around the room later. Or maybe he could make it resemble a torture chamber...Alex cackled evilly. 

The elderly people looked at him in surprise. "What's made you so enthusiastic all of a sudden?" asked Merlin. "It had better not be one of those hare-brained ideas again." 

"Hey!" protested Alex. "Hare-brained ideas? Mine are ingenious! Besides, I was only thinking of decorating my office..." 

Merlin scoffed, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, I believe you've had experience with human transfiguration." 

"Why yes," said McGonagall. "But only a tad. I had to help a child with Metamorphagus abilities a few years ago, Ted Tonks. A Muggleborn, can you believe it?" 

"Ah, but Minerva," said Merlin. "Muggleborns are descendants of wizards, most likely through a long list of Squibs." 

"Really?" asked McGonagall, surprised. "I've heard of that theory, but I didn't know it was true, of course." 

"Oh, it certainly is," said Merlin, casting a strange glance towards Alex. Alex felt slightly unnerved until he realized Merlin was referring to his, err, father, Albert Fitzpotter. "Now, I've checked little Harry over, and I believe he does have Metamorphagus abilities." 

"He does?" blurted out Alex. "Do I?" 

Merlin looked at him. "I have no idea," he said finally. "But I can look later. Right now, our focus is little Harry here." 

Alex felt foolish, and his face burned. "Sorry." 

Merlin waved it off. "Don't worry about it, my boy.  Now, I'm simply going to unlock his Metamorphagus abilities, and then transfigure his face in a particular way. Then I shall lock that form as his base form, as well as that of his original form, without affecting the rest of his abilities. Does that sound all right?" 

"Can you really do that?" asked Minerva, in awe of the man who stood in front of her. "I've been studying Transfiguration my entire life, yet I've never come across any theory like yours. Are you sure...?" 

"Quite," said Merlin. "Now, shall we begin?" 

"Wait," said Alex. "Will Harry be able to return to his original form?" 

"Yes," said Merlin. "But only when I unlock it, or if either of you do. For now, I think it would be safest if he looks like you, Alex." 

Probably," agreed Alex. "All right, what do we have to do?" 

"Nothing," said Merlin. "All I have to do is this." He reached into Harry's magic, and twisted. From a bright pink colour came out several other colours. "These other colours represent Harry's talents. The one I am looking for is this one." He yanked on the multicoloured strand, and began pouring his own magic into the strand. The child's face began to change, and soon resembled a miniature Alex. His scar was conveniently hidden, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Merlin pulled out of the child, twisting the Metamorphagus strand several times, then whispered, "Claustro." 

Merlin stepped back, and gazed at the child. "Well, yet another good job, old chap." He turned to the other two people in the room, who looked somewhat shell-shocked. "What? I already explained to you what I was going to do!" 

"Hearing it and seeing it are too separate things," said McGonagall dryly. "So what are you going to name the boy?" 

"I suppose keeping Harry Potter would be too much, wouldn't it?" asked Alex jokingly. "Well, a French name would be nice..." 

"Jean Henri Potter sounds nice," suggested Merlin. 

"Merlin, no," said Alex, disgusted. Luckily, ‘Merlin' was an often-used expletive, and Minerva did not comment upon its usage. "I refuse to have a child named Jean." 

"Matthieu Henri, then?" suggested McGonagall. 

"I suppose," said Alex doubtfully. "It would make sense, as Matthieu is my middle name..." 

"There you are, then," said Merlin. "I hereby christen you, Matthieu Henri Potter!" 

A little light magic swirled around the child, and then disappeared. "He will be Matthieu Henri Potter until you unlock his original form. And...I will handle the rest of the arrangements. Minerva, Alex, excuse me, please. I feel like resting up before exploring the rest of this grand castle." 

Of course, Alex knew what he was doing: manipulating documents again. But McGonagall wouldn't know that, so he kept the game up. "Of course, Mr. Erlin, I will wake you for lunch." 

"Merci, Alex," said Merlin. "Good day to you, Minerva." 

He bent down and kissed her hand before he turned and left the room. "Tell me, Alex, is your mentor always so...gentlemanly?" 

"Only when he feels like it," said Alex, giving a little laugh. Was McGonagall falling for Merlin? "Minerva, would you mind showing me the rest of Hogwarts? And perhaps introduce me to the other staff before tonight's meeting?" 

"Why, certainly, Alex," said McGonagall. "And what about Ha-Matt?" 

"We can bring him along," said Alex. "He's very well behaved, except when he's being changed, of course." 

Alex lifted the child into his arms, and Harry struggled a bit before settling comfortably, sucking his thumb. Alex smiled gently at the child, and they began the walk around the school. 

"Where would you like to go first?" asked Minerva. 

"Could we go see the Houses first? And then maybe the other classrooms..." said Alex. "Are there any students around right now?" 

"Most of the students are outside," said McGonagall. "It is a Saturday, after all. We should start with the Library first. It is the closest to your rooms." 

"Good idea," agreed Alex. "I'd love to see what books Hogwarts has to offer." 

"All right then," said McGonagall, and they headed to the Library. 

*******

Alex, McGonagall, and Harry entered the library, and they saw the usual hard-working students within. Alex gulped. There was the corner where Hermione, Ron, and he had studied for their OWLs. And over there, where he had punched Draco Malfoy's nose until it had flattened. He could see Hogwarts: A History that Hermione had poured over for hours... 

He could just feel the tears coming on. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear Minerva's question. "Alex? Alex, are you all right?" 

He recovered, but barely. " Y-yeah..." He gave a rueful grin. "Just in awe of all the books you have here." 

"Ah," said McGonagall understandingly. "I was the same way when I first saw the books here. I had never seen so many books in my life..." she looked around wistfully. "Of course, there have never been another student since I have taught here who love books as much as me." 

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Alex. "There'll be one...in about ten years or so." 

"Is that a prediction, young man?" teased McGonagall. 

"Of course," said Alex, winking. "From the Seer himself!" 

McGonagall's mouth irked a little smile. "We shall see. Shall we move on?" 

Alex looked reluctantly away from the scene unfolding in his mind's eye. "Certainly..." 

They left. 

********

Now, here's the entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower. Filius Flitwick is the Head of that House, and his office is close by. Do you want to meet him?" 

"Sure," said Alex. "He's a Duelling Master, isn't he?" 

"Why, yes," said McGonagall. "And Professor of Charms as well." 

"That's an interesting combination," said Alex. "Duelling and Charms...personally, I prefer Transfiguration." 

"Really said McGonagall, as she knocked on a peculiar door. "Filius? It's Minerva." 

The door opened, and a voice sounded near the floor. "Hello?" 

Alex looked down. He hadn't recalled his professor ever being this short... 

"Filius, meet our new Defense teacher," said McGonagall. "This is Alex Potter. Alex, this is Filius Flitwick." 

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," said Alex. "I'd shake your hand, but my hands are rather full at the moment." 

"It's quite all right," said the little man amicably. "Your son?" 

"Err...yes," said Alex. "This is Matthieu, or Matt for short." 

"Nice to meet you," said Filius. "Your accent is quite familiar. May I enquire as to where you are from?" 

"Oh, yeah," said Alex. "Marseilles, in France. Say, I watched your last tournament. You were absolutely brilliant!" 

"Thank you," said Flitwick, blushing. "So what is it you do?" 

"Well, I teach Defense now," said Alex with an impish grin. "But I was one of the sub-heads in la Section de la Police de la Magie." 

"Ah, not so shabby yourself, then," chattered Flitwick enthusiastically. "And one so young!" 

"Oh," blushed Alex. "I, errr, caught a few criminals, that's all." 

"Nevertheless -" 

"Don't embarrass the poor child," chided McGonagall. "Filius, we're touring the school. Would you like to join us?" 

Flitwick waved his hand. "Sorry, Minerva, I have a lot of marking to do...look at the stack on my desk. I don't know what I was thinking when I assigned essays from all the grades. Well, Mr. Potter, it was a pleasure to meet you. We should sit down and talk about duelling techniques sometime." 

"Sure," agreed Alex, shrugging his shoulders. "See you then." 

"Goodbye!" Flitwick's door closed. 

********

"Do you want to see Slytherin House?" asked McGonagall. "I'm not too partial to Slytherin myself, but..." 

"Oh, no, it's all right," said Alex. "I'm sure Professor Slughorn will be around sooner or later." 

"Has Horace already started then?" asked McGonagall. "He doesn't mean any harm. It's just...his politics get in the way sometimes." 

"I see," said Alex, not really seeing at all. "So, where to next?" 

"Well, the Potions classrooms are also in the dungeons, and we just passed the Charms classroom," said McGonagall. "We could head towards the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Houses." 

"Oh, sure," said Alex, then he felt something wet on his shoulder. "Matt, are you dripping saliva on me?!?" 

Harry gave a little giggle, and buried himself in Alex's robes. "Eww, gross! Matt!" 

"A-lec," said Harry proudly. "A-lec, A-lec, A-lec." 

"Very funny," said Alex, a bit grumpily. "Okay, Matt, I'm going to shift you over to my other shoulder." 

"A-lec, A-lec, A-lec," said Harry. Yep, he was wide awake now. Too bad...he had been so quiet and good before. Maybe because he was sleeping... 

"You're probably going to have saliva on the other side too, Alex," suggest McGonagall. 

"It doesn't matter," said Alex. "Scourgify!" He brushed the side where Harry's saliva previously had been. "There, all clean." 

"You can do wandless magic?" asked McGonagall. "Do you know how rare that is?" 

"Err...no?" asked Alex. "I know in the States they encourage wandless magic, and they rarely use their wands." 

"Oh, really?" asked McGonagall. "What about France?" 

"A little bit of both, but they mostly favour their wands," said Alex. "I think it's tradition though." 

McGonagall nodded. "Here, we treat wandless magic as a gift, but if what you say about the Americans is true...then there is much we still have to learn. Perhaps we are still stuck in our ways, though Merlin knows how bad that is." 

"Yes, your previous Dark Lord advocated blood supremacy, did he not?" 

"I'm pureblood myself, but I can't stand those arrogant people," said McGonagall. 

"Not to mention," said Alex mischievously. "Most of those people inbreed...which introduces various side effects, including insanity." 

McGonagall laughed. "You sound like Albus." 

"Great minds think alike," answered Alex. "What can I say?" 

"I prefer fools seldom differ, myself," said McGonagall. 

"Fine, be that way," said Alex childishly. "So, where are we now?" 

"Hufflepuff House," said Minerva. "You probably want to meet Pomona Sprout, yes?" 

"Oh, sure," said Alex. "What does she teach?" 

"Herbology, and she's the head of Hufflepuff House," said McGonagall. "And up this tower is Sybil Trelawney. She teaches Divination, but I...I'm not too partial to the subject myself." 

"Same," said Alex. "But the centaurs aren't so bad." 

McGonagall sniffed. "I suppose" 

"So are you going to knock at the door, or am I?" 

McGonagall knocked, and the door immediately opened.

"Hello? Why, Minerva, what brings you here to my humble abode?" asked Sprout, who seemed to be a cheery individual. Alex knew better, though. He shuddered, remembering the time Draco had been reamed by this teacher for bullying the Hufflepuffs. 

"Oh, I'm just giving our new Defense professor a tour of the school," said McGonagall. 

Sprout flashed him a smile. "Pomona Sprout." 

Alex shook her hand. "Alex Potter, it's nice to meet you." 

"What a polite young man!" exclaimed Sprout. "You know, dear, I haven't met anyone with such good manners...Oh, where are mine? Would you like to come in for a spot of tea?" 

McGonagall looked at Alex, who nodded. "Sure, I have time to kill...well, until Professor Ryan gives me what he's done so far this year for the fifth to seventh years." 

"Excellent," said Sprout. "Twinkly?" 

"Yes, Professor Sprout, ma'am?" popped a house elf. 

"Could I have three cups of tea and biscuits?" asked Professor Sprout, then looked at Alex. "And perhaps a glass of pumpkin juice?" Alex nodded, and Sprout continued, "Thank you." 

"Yes, Twinkly go right away," said the house elf, and popped away, returning within seconds with all the food. Alex shifted Harry onto his lap, and conjured a straw, letting Harry sip it. 

"And who is this little fellow?" asked Sprout. "Your son?" 

"Yes," said Alex bashfully. "Matthieu Henri Potter, but Matt for short." 

"So you're French?" asked Sprout, sipping her tea. "French people are quite...delightful." 

"We're very friendly," said Alex, smiling. "You have a Mastery in Herbology then?" 

"Oh, yes," said Sprout. "And you?" 

"Well, I'm the equivalent of a sub-head within the the French Aurors," said Alex. "But I could probably get my Mastery for Defense right now without a problem." He shrugged. "Not that I'm bragging of anything. But I do have honorary Masteries in Transfiguration and Potions."  

McGonagall choked on her tea. "You do?" 

Alex blushed. "Yes." To wave off his embarrassment, he began to concentrate on the child on his lap. 

"You're only twenty, yes?" asked McGonagall. 

"Actually, nineteen," said Alex bashfully. "I'll be turning twenty next month." 

"Oh, really?" asked McGonagall, her eyes narrowing scarily. "I would know if someone came close to shattering my record of being the youngest in getting my Transfiguration Mastery." 

"I asked that it be kept quiet, as I was...doing special work at the time," said Alex. Why on earth had Merlin made that up? Sure, he had gotten them for real...but in the future. He supposed it would be awfully suspicious if he showed he knew too much of those specific subjects. Thank goodness Snape had gotten his at seventeen...or else Alex would be in trouble. 

"Ah," said McGonagall, understanding (or at least thinking that Alex had been undercover at the time). Sprout too, nodded, though what she understood was beyond him. "I see, then. And you were apprenticed to Mr. Erlin?" 

"Ah, no, not really," said Alex. "Though he's pretty good at Transfiguration. No, my Transfiguration Master is long gone." Or rather, she's right in front of me... 

"Mr. Erlin?" interjected Sprout. "Who's he?" 

"Oh, my quasi-mentor," said Alex. "A jack of all trades...he's devoted much of his life to studying and researching. He was the old Head of the Unspeakables in Marseilles, you know. Well, really, all of France." 

"Oh, my," said Sprout. "No wonder you're so...talented then." 

"Thank you, Madam," said Alex, then turned to Harry. "Matt, could you please stop tugging at my hair?" 

The two women laughed, and Sprout cooed at the child. "He's so adorable! How old is he?" 

"Almost two," said Alex. "He can be a handful though." 

Sprout smiled sympathetically. "Troublesome Twos, that they are. I remember when my own was that age. When I think back now, they really weren't that bad. I'd do anything to have him at that age again." 

"I'll think about that when I get there," said Alex, making a face. "The hardest part is getting him to stay still when I change him." 

McGonagall coughed, trying - unsuccessfully - to cover her laughter. "Most people have their house elves help them." 

"Really?" asked Alex. "Well, I prefer to do it myself. I think it's ‘cause I lived with Muggles for ages." 

"Oh, really?" asked Sprout. "That's unusual...for a Potter." 

Alex merely nodded. He didn't want to get into his history at all. And was Sprout actually this nosy the last time around? He frowned. Well, he only had one class with her anyways - Herbology. And what was it, two hours long twice a week? 

After a little chat, they left, but not before Alex promised to visit again.

********

A blur of red crashed into him. 

"Mr. Weasley!" exclaimed McGonagall. "May I remind you that there is no running in the hallways?" 

"Sorry, Pr'fessor," mumbled the child, who was looking down bashfully. Was this Bill? The child looked up, a shy smile on his face. "I won't do it again, Pr'fessor." 

"See that you do, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall sternly. "And please apologize to Professor Potter." 

"Sorry, Pr'fessor Potter, I won't do it again," said the boy shyly. 

"It's all right," said Alex. "What's your name?" 

"William Weasley," said the child. "But please call me Bill. Only my mum calls me William." 

So it was Bill. "Pleasure to meet you, Bill," said Alex. "And you're in your first year?" 

"Yes, sir," said Bill. 

"Oh, then I won't be teaching you then," said Alex regretfully. 

"That`s okay, sir, Professor Ryan is a good teacher," said Bill eagerly. 

"On your way, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall. "It's almost time for lunch." 

"Yes, ma'am," said Bill, who took off at a dash. 

"Weasley!" shouted McGonagall after him. "No running!" 

Immediately, the boy slowed, but still walked a quick-ish pace. "That boy..." said McGonagall. "And his mother has six of them after him! Merlin knows if this school will survive them." 

"Bill Weasley isn't that bad," protested Alex. "I've seen worse." 

"I've been told by Molly Weasley her twins are a right terror," said McGonagall. "But I suppose we can only hope, then." 

"We'll see," said Alex. "So, where to next?" 

They had already visited the first two floors, as well as Gryffindor tower. 

"Well, Albus blocked off the third corridor," said McGonagall. "I don't think any of us who grew up in Hogwarts has ever been up there. It's rumoured there's a particularly vicious ghost up there, or some such drivel." She paused. "We could go look at the Quidditch field. Do you play Quidditch?" 

"Of course!" exclaimed Alex. "Though...I haven't played in a long while. I need a new broom too. My last one flew into a maniac's spell." He shuddered, remembering how close Yaxley's spell had come. He had barely escaped with his life. 

"Oh," answered McGonagall. "What did you play?" 

"Seeker," said Alex. "Though I'm not half bad as a Beater. I can't play Chaser for the life of me though." 

"Oh, really?" asked McGonagall, her eyes alight. "I played Beater myself when I was younger. I miss those days quite a lot..." 

"Professor McGonagall, a Beater?" interjected a new voice. "I would've you put down as a Chaser, myself. Who's the new fellow?" 

McGonagall turned towards the new voice. "Ah, Rolanda, here you are. I thought it was rather odd of you to have missed breakfast. This is Alex Potter, the new Defense Professor for the fifth through seventh years." She turned to Alex. "Alex, this is Rolanda Hooch, our flight instructor and Quidditch referee." 

"Good to meet you," said Hooch, who seemed to be sizing him up. "A Seeker, eh? You don't look like one." 

"Oh, I used to be a lot smaller," said Alex, smiling. A lot, a lot smaller. "But I could probably do things on a broom you haven't even seen before." 

"Is that a bet?" challenged Hooch, who had a wicked gleam in her eye. "I'd love to see what you could you."

"Ah, Minerva?" inquired Alex. "Could you hold Matt for a moment?" As he handed Harry over to McGonagall, he smacked his forehead with his free hand. "You wouldn't have a spare broom, would you? I lost mine fighting with an...insane Death Eater." 

"Sure," said Hooch, who didn't seem to have heard the last bit. "But they're all second-rate. The school hasn't replaced them in years, though I keep bugging old Dumbles to do it. He just doesn't listen to me." 

"Rolanda!" exclaimed McGonagall, scandalized. "You should treat Albus with more respect." 

"Mhm," nodded Hooch, as she led Alex to the broom shed. "Here you go, take your pick. I'll be using my Silver Arrow, myself. We only have a few Cleansweep Fives', I'm afraid, but take your pick." 

All the brooms in front of him were old and tattered, and none particularly appealed to him - until he noticed one in slightly better condition, but of a different model. Hefting it, he nodded to Hooch. "I'll be taking this one." 

"That's a Comet 180. Are you sure? They haven't been around in ages, and the last person on it..." she shuddered. "It wasn't good. In fact, I'll be surprised if they bring out a new Comet after that last mishap." 

"You know, trying to scare me with horror stories isn't going to change my mind about this broom," said Alex, noticing that though this broom was quite old, it felt almost as familiar as his old Firebolt. "So, are we going to be chasing after Snitches, or are we going to do some fancy moves?" 

"I used to be a darn good Seeker myself, you know," said Hooch indignantly. "First one to catch the Snitch wins. Oy, Minerva!" 

"I swear you can be like a child sometimes, Rolanda," said McGonagall, taking the box containing the snitch out of Hooch's hand. "On your mark, get set, GO!" 

She let go of the snitch, and little Harry giggled at the sight of the two adults zipping around the pitch. McGonagall smiled. She hadn't seen Rolanda this happy since their school days. 

"Yo, Potter, bet you can't do this!" Hooch did several aerial spins in the air downwards, and then turned upwards at a sharp angle. 

"I can do better than that!" With those words, Alex Potter began his favourite move, the Wronski Feint. Closer and closer to the ground he went, and he heard a gasp of horror from McGonagall. With only two feet to spare, he pulled up, and grinned, holding up the snitch. "How'd you like that?" 

"Tha-that was incredible!" shouted Hooch enthusiastically. "I've only ever seen it done by Josef Wronski...and he had one of the best brooms there is! How'd you do that with that old thing?" 

Alex smirked. "It's called talent." 

"Blegh." Hooch made a face at him. "I don't think anything I do can beat that one. Say, how ‘bout we get together a team of teachers to play? Wouldn't that be neat?" 

"Alex Potter!" exclaimed McGonagall. "You get down here and explain now!" 

"I've known her for what, five hours, and she starts acting like my mother?" grimaced Alex. "But sure, yeah, that'd be neat. Which teachers will play though?"

"ALEX POTTER!" 

"Whoops, mother's calling," said Alex sheepishly. "I'll continue after I get yelled at." 

"Good luck with that," called Hooch. "Once she gets it in her head to lecture, she'll go on and on and on and on!" 

"I heard that, Rolanda Hooch!" shouted McGonagall, and then laid right into Alex. "Alex Potter, what on earth were you thinking! If you hadn't been able to pull out of that dive, you would have left this poor child parentless!" She didn't have to say again, but Alex felt it nonetheless.

"Minerva, it's all right," said Alex soothingly. "I've been doing this for ages. I know what I'm doing." 

"You just told me you hadn't been on a broom for several years! How could you just dive like that without taking precautions?" Her face was turning redder and redder. 

"You never lose your broom skills," said Alex. "It's okay, I'm fine." 

It didn't appease McGonagall, who now had steam coming out of her ears. Alex continued, "Fine, what if I told you I won't act so recklessly ever again?" 

McGonagall breathed, and shifted the child in her arms. "You better keep that promise, young man, or I'll hang you by your ears off of Gryffindor Tower!"

Alex winced. "Yes, ma'am." 

McGonagall turned to Hooch. "What were you thinking, daring him like that! He has a child! He's the Defense teacher Albus took AGES to find! How c-how!" She sputtered off. 

Hooch just smiled, listening to her friend rant. "Relax, Minerva. Kid knows what he's doing. Say, Minerva, how would you like to play Beater on our Teacher Quidditch team?" 

"Stop trying to change the subje- What?" 

"Yeah, a teacher's Quidditch team," said Hooch. "The way I see it, we have our Seeker here, I can play Keeper, and you can play Beater. I know Kevin Ryan used to play Chaser, so that leaves us with only one Beater and Chaser left to find." She grinned enthusiastically. "I'm sure Filius will want to play too!" 

McGonagall groaned. "You are impossible, Rolanda Hooch!" 

Hooch smiled cheekily. "And you still love me, don't cha?" 

Alex rolled his eyes. 

********

Dumbledore gazed outside, seeing two of his staff in the air, and a third on the ground. The portraits around had talked animatedly about the new staff member, and Dumbledore's attempt to get a good reading on the man had failed. Even his attempts to place a portrait in his rooms had failed. Who was this man, and was he dangerous? What side was he on? 

For Dumbledore did not truly believe that Voldemort was gone. The paranoid side of him knew that Tom Riddle would have set up safeguards before heading off to battle himself - not because he wasn't so arrogant as to believe anyone could beat him, but on the off chance a stray spell might off him. Tom had learned from the past: several great would-be Dark Lords had been killed, not in great dramatic battles, but often by accident. In fact, Grindelwald was the only Dark Lord in the past two centuries that had been killed in a one-on-one duel. 

Earlier this week, the attack on the Longbottoms shocked him: not because there had been an attack, but that it had been foiled. Bellatrix Lestrange had been known as one of Tom's best fighters; to be so easily taken down...and by a person now long gone, this was entirely sketchy. And Peter Pettigrew, who know one had ever suspected, now revealed to be a Death Eater? Revealed by this same unknown, Matthieu Rousseau? 

He paced around the office. It was obvious who the man was, unless there were two French, extremely talented, and powerful people around, which he highly doubted. And he had just hired him. 

Alexandre Matthieu Potter. A wild card in the upcoming war. The man had excellent credentials, it was true, and he seemed to be a fighter for the Light, but what was he really like? Was he an appropriate guardian for Harry Potter? And his mentor...Dumbledore could just feel the power flowing off of him. Two such powerful people should have garnered attention beforehand, yet...they hadn't. 

It was quite curious. He would have to keep a close watch on the man. He definitely didn't need two Dark Lords on his hands come the future. 

********

Ryan had come earlier in the day, and given Alex his curriculum. It wasn't bad at all, considering the professors Alex had had when he was in school. But these students wouldn't stand a chance at all in the upcoming years. Alex strongly believed in arming civilians during wartime. If the leaders weren't so preoccupied with rescuing civilians, then the war would progress a lot faster. And it wouldn't be so bad to have a new generation of prepared Aurors for the war, if Alex couldn't prevent Voldemort from rising from the grave. 

Which reminded him. He should probably start destroying the six Horcruxes while he could. The one in his own forehead had been rid of by a potion, made by the youngest Potions Master of the century, Severus Snape. Of course, he could brew it himself, but he didn't have the connections to get the materials that Snape had. Hence, he needed Snape. Of course, he also missed the friendship they had cultivated once Snape had seen past his father. And he no longer looked like a Potter anymore, though his name - crap. His name! Oh, well. He could probably get through the first two weeks before mentioning his name. Or perhaps he could mention his old last name first. He shrugged. He'd deal with the problem when it came. 

He looked down at the curriculum of the fifth years. This was hopeless! They were starting Protego's now. He had done that in his second year. Hmmm...well, it was definitely time to start improving their skills. The only problem he foresaw was the leap the fourth years would have to take from fourth to fifth. 

Ryan seemed to favour more theoretical work, and practical only with the approaching OWLs. That was fine. It seemed in the past the other teachers had been similar. If that was the case, then Alex would only have to review every so often and do practical most of the time. That suited him just fine. Practical was his strong suit, anyways. 

With that in mind, he began to re-write the curriculum. The sooner he finished, the more time he could spend with Har-Matt. He had to start calling the child that, if he were to grow up normally. Merlin had already worked out all the logistics (as usual), and apparently, it was even easier to do it in England than in France. It seemed Bagnold was just as incompetent as Fudge. 

He looked at the child, who was currently in his playpen beside his desk. Since Merlin had gone out, and McGonagall had to do her own work, Alex was left to care for Matt on his own. He didn't mind; he was a very sweet baby when he wasn't high on sugar. Earlier, in McGonagall's office, Matt had thrown a huge fit, partially from being tired, and partially from having sugar shoved down by Hooch. That crazy old lady should be in a mental institute. 

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in!" 

"Mr. Potter, how are you?" Alex almost groaned. Of all times for Slughorn to come, he had to come now. "Sorry, Professor Slughorn, my son's sleeping. Could we talk outside?" 

Slughorn had the good graces to look embarrassed, and his voice lowered a tad. "Sure, sure. So sorry about that." 

"It's all right," said Alex. "Matt's a deep sleeper. So, Professor Slughorn, what was on your mind?" 

"I took your suggestion to mind, Mr. Potter," said Slughorn. "I asked discretely about Albus's line of inquiry, and it turns out he had much the same idea as you did! Only, he's managed to snatch up Severus Snape. I remember him...what talent! And the youngest Potions Master in history! He and Lily Evans..." He trailed off. "In any case, he is coming to Hogwarts immediately, just to acclimatize, I imagine. I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner with us?"  

Would it be beneficial? Alex weighed the probabilities in his head. On one hand, if he were to be introduced elsewhere by, say, Dumbledore, then Snape would probably hate him. But Severus had no lost love for his old Head of House either. Yet, if he was seen consorting with a Slytherin, that might give him the upper hand. Making up his mind, he answered, "I'd be delighted too. Just tell me the time and date, and I'll be there." 

"That's a good chap!" exclaimed Slughorn enthusiastically, slapping Alex on his back. "Tomorrow night, in my quarters." He didn't have to add, dress formally. Slughorn was infamous for his prediction of impeccable style, and he more than not wanted others to do the same. If they weren't, well, he was wont to go on for ages about the current fashion of the day. 

"All right," said Alex. At that moment, he heard Matt waking up, and he quickly excused himself, quietly thanking his other self for coming to his rescue. He picked the child up, and rubbed the child's back, wondering why he wouldn't stop crying. It was only when he smelled the terrible stench and something leaking on to his hand... "Argh!" 

The child giggled. "Doo-doo!"

"Ugh," groaned Alex. "How can a child your size make so much mess? And why won't you stay still???" 

"Here, let me do it," said Merlin, who easily finished the job. "I always said children loved me no matter what time I'm in." 

"Very funny," muttered Alex. "So what are we going to do about Harry?" 

"You're going to have to call him Matthieu, or Matt, from now on," said Merlin, frowning. "We don't want the child confused out of his wits before the battle even begins." 

"If the battle ever begins," said Alex darkly. "But he - Oh, fine." 

"Glad you can see my point of view for once without having me to explain," said Merlin. "Now, about those Horcruxes. I've destroyed all but the Gaunt Ring. Oh, and our little Matt here, of course," At Alex's look, he shrugged. "Sorry, I don't speak Parseltongue." 

"I suppose I could do it," said Alex. "Though I'm not sure how Dumbledore got through the defenses in the first place. What about that potion?" 

"I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking," said Merlin. "No, unfortunately, my talents do not lie in that area. You, however, are proficient enough to brew it, I believe." 

"No, no," said Alex. "I know I can brew it, but I don't know where I could get all the materials. Some of those ingredients are quite...rare and nasty." 

"I see," said Merlin. "I could get them for you, but I'm due in 1805 in a few days. The Lewis and Clark Expedition will freeze to death if I don't get there. Not to mention, they have a rare animal the Wizarding World hasn't heard about in years..." 

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Alex. "I can ask Snape anyways. But it'll just take longer to get to know him, that's all. Not to mention, when he finds out I'm a Potter, he'll be all over me. You know how he was with Matt's father." He made a face, then added wryly. "It took himages for us to actually have a decent conversation. Though he did prefer Hermione to me..." 

"Probably because she was more intelligent," said Merlin. "Don't look so insulted. You don't think I actually sat the Second Great Wizarding War out?" 

"It looked like you had sat there in that dingy room for a quarter of a century," said Alex. 

"It's been nice bantering with you, Alex," said Merlin. "But I have to go prepare for my departure." 

"Sore loser," muttered Alex, as soon as Merlin was out of earshot. "Wouldn't you agree, Matt?" 

The baby giggled. 

********

"Everyone, this is Alex Potter, whom most of you have met already, I presume?" stated Dumbledore. At most of the staff's nods of affirmation, he continued, "Well, I suppose we could go around in a circle and introduce ourselves." 

Alex coughed, deeply embarrassed. "Alexandre Potter, Defense against the Dark Arts." 

He turned to the person beside him, who gave him a tiny nod. "Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House." 

"Kevin Ryan, Defense against the Dark Arts." The man winked, sensing that Alex was not quite comfortable. 

"Horace Slughorn, Potions, Head of Slytherin House, charmed, my boy," said Slughorn, who couldn't resist adding his term of endearment to a person he had barely met. "And my assistant, and the future Potions professor, Severus Snape, will be arriving tomorrow." 

All the teachers ooh-ed and ah-ed, having only heard the news. When they settled down, Flitwick introduced himself. "Filius Flitwick, Charms, Head of Ravenclaw House." 

"Septima Vector, Arithmancy," said the woman beside Flitwick. There was a pregnant pause, as Trelawney seemed to have lost herself - again. "Sybil?" 

"Ah..." intoned Trelawney. "I see Death in your future, child, much Death." 

Alex rolled his eyes. Trelawney was the same, no matter what year it was. Dumbledore quickly covered for her. "Alex, that's Sybil Trelawney, our Divination Professor. Charity, would you continue?" 

"I'm Charity Burbage, Professor of Muggle Studies!" said the young woman enthusiastically. "Muggles are so fascinating, don't you agree?" 

"Ah..." said Alex awkwardly. "I suppose you could say that." 

Before Burbage could continue, Hagrid butted in. "Rubeus ‘agrid, but jus' call me ‘agrid. I'm the Groun'skeeper ‘ere." 

"Madam Pomfrey, Mediwitch," said Madam Pomfrey. "I better not see you in the Hospital Wing, young man." 

"Ah, okay," said Alex with a laugh. "I can't promise though." The other staff twittered (McGonagall glared at him), before they took up introductions again. 

"Silvanus Kettleburn, Professor of Care of Magical Creatures," said the next man stiffly. 

"Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy," said the woman next to Kettleburn. "Pleased to meet you." 

"Thanks," stated Alex. Now, who was the next person? 

"Bathsheba Babbling, Ancient Runes," said the woman. Ah, one of Hermione's favourite professors. 

"Pomona Sprout, Herbology, and Head of Hufflepuff, but you already know that, dear," said Sprout. "Where's little Matt?"

"Mr. Erlin is caring for him right now," said Alex tersely. 

McGonagall explained for the staff who hadn't been informed of the situation. "Matthieu is Alex's son and will be staying with him for the duration of his time here." 

To Alex's surprise (which, really, he shouldn't have been, considering), all the women began to ask him questions about his child, including his age (this brought about more cooing), what he looked like, and he just had tobring Matt along the next staff meeting. Alex groaned. At this rate, Matt would be spoiled despite the fact he was not known to be Harry Potter. Then, he noticed the Headmaster looking at him quite...strangely. Dismissing it, he turned to the next person he was to be introduced to: Rolanda Hooch, who proceeded to tell the entire staff how amazing Alex was on a broom. Finally, the introductions came to an end.

"Alex, our librarian and our caretaker, Irma Pince and Argus Filch, as well as our history Professor, Professor Binns, were unable to make it, unfortunately," said Dumbledore. Alex waved it off, saying he would soon be acquainted with them anyways. "Now, have there been any recent problems we need to address?" 

"Lorcan D'Eath has been singing non-stop since he has decided he wants to become a singer," said Ryan. "Now, I know he is quite talented, but he's causing quite a disturbance among the girls, especially when he's singing after hours, broadcasting his voice using Sonorus." 

The other staff chuckled. "D'Eath is quite...vivacious, isn't he?" asked Dumbledore. "Well, Filius, as he is in your house, I trust you will speak to him on this matter, won't you?"

"I've tried, Albus," said Flitwick. "The boy cannot be caught, and we have little proof, beyond the fact his name is announced after the songs. Whenever we try to catch him in the act, we see him doing something else instead. He even talks while the songs are running." 

"Could it be a recording?" asked McGonagall. 

"That's Mastery level Charms," said Flitwick. "And as much as he is intelligent, he does not have the talent to do such a thing." 

"Could he have gotten a Muggle one?" suggested Burbage. "It wouldn't be impossible then." 

"Electricity doesn't work in Hogwarts, does it, Headmaster?" asked Alex. "Or else my watch would be working on the batteries like it's supposed to." 

"It doesn't matter," said Dumbledore with a wave. "Let the child have a bit of fun before he has to leave. Now, on to more trying topics..."

They talked about the children they caught in broom closets, and Sinistra groaned about how many couples she had found asleep in the Astronomy Tower, and couldn't Albus do something about it? Finally, the meeting wound down, and Dumbledore dismissed most of the staff, excluding McGonagall and Flitwick. Did it have to do with the end of the war?

As soon as the other teachers had all left, and he had said all his goodnight's, he doubled back. Luckily, the door was still open, and with an Extendable Ear given to him by the Weasley twins, he heard the conversation clearly. He frowned. It was something he hadn't at all considered about the war...

 "The Minister has requested that we hand over all the students with Death Eater ties," said Dumbledore. "As of right now, the Ministry has no jurisdiction within Hogwarts, but the Minister has indicated that as a sign of goodwill, we should do as they ask." 

"But they're still children!" exclaimed Sprout. "And we know many of their families were blackmailed..." 

Blackmailed? Alex wondered. Not all Death Eaters were truly Voldemort's? He shook his head. No, Karkaroff hadn't given off that sort of an impression either. The voices clamoured again. 

"Albus!" said McGonagall. "For goodness sake, if they're innocent, they'll be let off. Give them to the Ministry. We don't need a conflict right at the end of the war." 

No, they won't, thought Alex, remembering his godfather. Not in a million years. 

"Wait," said Flitwick. "Is there any way to test their loyalties while they're still here? I've heard rumours they weren't even going to give Sirius Black a trial. Thank goodness Lily Potter's diary showed up in the search."

Alex smiled. Earlier, he had placed the diary in a place where he knew the Aurors were sure to see. Or at least, Albus Dumbledore to see. But they were still talking. 

"I could ask Horace to brew Veritaserum," said Albus. 

"But we all know Horace's brewing skills," protested McGonagall. "He may be the Potions professor, but he's certainly no Potions Master." 

"Well...who can we trust to do it then?" asked Flitwick. "We certainly can't." 

"Oh! I know who can!" exclaimed Sprout. "Alex Potter holds a Potions Mastery! I'm certain he could help. He's such a nice boy." 

Albus frowned. "Certainly, but we aren't assured of which side he has taken." 

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," said McGonagall. "If you've hired him, he must be safe. Besides, I know he's caught several Death Eaters, and he works for the DMLE in France. How can you even question that? Besides, he's the only one who can brew it right now."

Alex almost chuckled out loud. ‘So Dumbledore doesn't trust me, eh?' 

"All right, then," stated Dumbledore. "I will approach Alexandre tomorrow. As for the Order, I have decided not to disband it until we can be sure there is no threat." 

"But You-Know-Who is gone!" exclaimed Sprout. "Is there any danger left?" 

"I'm sure the Longbottoms could attest to that, Pomona," said McGonagall dryly. "But Albus, do you truly believe he isn't gone?" 

"There wasn't a body," replied Dumbledore. "And I have reason to believe Voldemort well-equipped himself in case." 

"Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid, Albus?" said Flitwick. "If he hasn't fallen, surely there would have been some incident right now."  

"No," replied Dumbledore. "But that's a conversation for another time. We should all head to bed now. I'm sure all of us have to be alert for tomorrow."   

Alex quickly took the Extendable Ear and ran down the hallway, careful to cast a Silencing Charm and disillusioned himself. Quickly ducking into a nearby alcove, Alex waited until he heard all their footsteps fade away. He quickly made his way into his quarters, where Merlin was waiting for him. 

"So, how was it?" asked Merlin, who was sipping a cuppa on the sofa in the living room.

"It was a bit awkward, actually," said Alex. "When the women all found out Matt was here, they started clamouring to see him. Strange obsession, women with babies. Apparently there's a wannabe singer here who keeps belting out tunes at the wrong time." He shrugged. "McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick stayed behind." 

"I'm sure you caught the whole conversation though," said Merlin. "And yes, the half-vampire. He's quite exuberant. I believe he may be the beginning of better relations between humans and vamps, but that's my opinion. So what did they say?" 

"Who?" asked Alex. 

"McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Dumbledore, of course," said Merlin. "I know you stayed behind and eavesdropped. Bad habit of yours, I rather think." 

"I'm not going to respond to that," said Alex. "But yeah...they were just talking about Death Eater students. Apparently they're going to ask me to brew Veritaserum for them tomorrow. Only problem is, should I brew the stronger version, or the regular one?" He paused. "I don't think anyone could see the difference, but there are obvious faults in the old version. But you know Dumbledore...he can see anything." 

"I'd say brew the stronger version," said Merlin. "Potions wasn't Dumbledore's forte at all." 

"All right, then," said Alex. "Speaking of which, you transferred my Masteries, right?" 

"Of course I did," said Merlin. "What do you think I am, slow?" 

"No, never," said Alex quickly. "Should I go and get my Defense Mastery? I think I could take the test now." 

"If you want," said Merlin. "But why you would need it is beyond me. Most of your colleagues don't, you know." 

"A larger paycheck would be good," joked Alex. 

"You've got two Potter estates and the Black estate," said Merlin. "What more do you need?" 

"Meh," said Alex. "But still." 

"You really want to stick out like a sore thumb?" asked Merlin rhetorically, shaking his head. "It's up to you. I could certainly arrange for a test if you like." 

"Could I do it tomorrow? I think it would give me more clout," said Alex. "With Dumbledore and the Ministry, I mean. It would look terribly stupid if I'm an Auror and a Defense Professor and I don't have a Defense Mastery, but Potions and Transfiguration instead." 

"I'll check," said Merlin. "But why not just claim one? I could do that easily enough." 

"Because I told McGonagall I don't have a Defense Mastery," said Alex.   

"Why in God's name would you do that?" asked Merlin. 

"They asked!" exclaimed Alex. "What was I supposed to say? No? And then have Dumbledore check?" 

"Good point," said Merlin. "But it'll have to be next week." 

"Okay," nodded Alex. "But you'll have to take care of Matt then." 

"No problem," said Merlin. "I'm leaving on the Saturday, so we'll have to do it sometime this week. You don't have to teach, right?" 

"Yeah," said Alex. "But I'll be observing the classes while Ryan teaches...but he could spare a day, I'm sure." 

"Mhm," said Merlin. "I'll check at the Ministry tomorrow. Excellent, more paperwork. In fact, I think I shall do it now." 

"All right," said Alex. "Thanks. I think I'm going to bed now...I want to be at breakfast early tomorrow, and I still need to get dress robes - for tomorrow night with Slughorn, I mean." 

"Don't go to Madam Malkins'," advised Merlin. "She rips people off. Go to Ribbons and Robes. Much more affordable there. Better quality too."

 "Huh," said Alex. "Really? How come I've never heard of it?" 

"Only people who know of it can enter," said Merlin. "It's not in Diagon Alley either. It's here in Hogsmeade." 

"Oh," said Alex. "That's good. I don't have to go so far then."

"Relax, Alex," said Merlin. "It's only a dinner anyways." 

"Uh huh," said Alex. "I'm meeting an old friend who doesn't actually know I'm a friend, and, on top of all that, he hates my last name and me old dad, or rather, little Matt's da. Yeah, real soothing." 

"You know it's your own fault," said Merlin. "I changed it to Fitzpotter." 

"Because I wanted something to remember my parents by!" exclaimed Alex, throwing up his hands. "Infuriating old man. I'm going to bed." 

Merlin chuckled. "Goodnight, then." 

********

Severus Snape paced the length of the small room he had rented under a disguise. He had barely been able to stay away from the Aurors, particularly the ones his age. All of them knew of his alliance - no, his subservience - to the Dark Lord, and it would take a simple shift to his robe's sleeves to prove it. 

Only Albus Dumbledore knew differently. After all, he had been the one Snape had reported to. But would he be willing to attest to that? Snape shook his head. As much as that man had good intentions, he never knew what Dumbledore was up to. It may be, as the Greater Good decreed, that he would be sent to Azkaban. 

Not that he minded. He still had to atone for what he had done. The words he had spoken for what seemed an eternity ago echoed over and over in his mind. The contradiction within himself tore at him, calling him a hypocrite, coward, failure. And he was...all the above. 

Stopping, he placed his forehead on the clear, cool apartment wall, unwilling to let his tears go. He clenched his fist tightly. It wasn't supposed to be like this! He saw her body...broken and lifeless. His whole life's one redeeming quality - gone. And his spying had been all for naught. What a fool he had been! 

The tears began to fall down his face. His hands made no effort to move, other than to support his now weakening body against the wall. He would stay upright, if only for the sake of Lily's little boy. He had checked on the boy, at Lily's dear sister's house, only to be told he had been adopted and taken away. Who had taken him? Surely not that mutt - he was currently in Azkaban. The wolf was not an option, for obvious reasons. Alice Longbottom had been killed in a scuffle with the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. Snape scowled. Dumbledore had promised him that should Lily's sister been unable to care for him, and that all his respective godparents were dead or incapable of doing so, the boy would go to Snape. He chuckled darkly. As if that would happen. The Boy-Who-Lived to be cared for by a Death Eater, and a snarky git at that. It seemed his life was one colossal joke. 

At that very moment, the window was blasted open by a rather large owl, one that he recognized as being Horace Slughorn's, his old Head of House. Like the man, the owl was a bit obese and thought itself grand. Of course, neither the man nor his familiar were anything but, though no one ever bothered to tell them, to spare their feelings. Gilderoy Lockhart, on the other hand...Snape shuddered. The man had been four years ahead of him, and a Slytherin at that, though God knows how he had gotten in. With his smile, he had charmed everyone. To Severus, that smile only reminded him of the nice teeth he would never have, but it was no great loss. He, in no way shape or form, needed blinding teeth, period. 

He frowned as he read the missive. "Teaching Potions at Hogwarts?" he muttered aloud. "That interfering old man..." 

His eye caught one line in the missive. You were recommended by an Alexandre Potter, who has stated that you are an excellent Potions Master. Since he is a Potions Master himself, I have decided to take him at his word. I have spoken with Albus Dumbledore, and he has agreed with my choice. Who was Alexandre Potter? The bastard he went to school with had no siblings, nor did his father have any siblings.  And Dumbledore hadn't recommended him? Would wonders never cease? He continued reading: Therefore, it is to my greatest delight and pleasure to cordially invite you to dinner in my quarters at Hogwarts, if you choose to accept the position. 

Well, Slughorn certainly hadn't changed. Snape paused pensively, thinking about his future options. If he accepted the offer, he would have the chance to look for Lily's child when he came of age, even though it would be ten years from now. If he wasn't able to protect the child now, he could certainly protect the child in the future. His fist tightened again. That was what he was going to do.

 Taking his last piece of spare parchment, he quickly scribbled his acceptance, and that he would be pleased to dine with his old Professor. An hour later, the same owl returned, looking just a wee bit tired. Sunday evening at 7:30pm? 

The note he sent back, now resting in the owl's talons, indicated his assent. 

********

"Honestly, Alex, you are worse than a high strung chicken in front of the chopping block," said Merlin. "Would you just relax and go to breakfast?" 

Alex looked up miserably, and sagged back into the chair he currently inhabited. "You'd be nervous too." If this were happening to you. 

"Just breathe in, and breathe out," suggested Merlin. "You'll be fine." 

"And if I'm not?" asked Alex vehemently. "Will you save me, oh-great-Merlin?"

"I doubt you'll need rescuing," said Merlin. "Oh, look, it's time for my appointment at the Ministry. Time to go!" 

He activated the floo, and jumped in, all the while merrily whistling.  Alex groaned. "Oh, for Pete's sake!" He shook his head, and stood up to leave, remembering to pick up Matt as he left. As he walked down the hallway, he was surprised by the many cheery greetings he received. 

"G'morning, Pr'fessor Potter," said little Bill, his flaming red hair a complete mess.

 "'Morning, Bill," replied Alex. The two of them continued to walk down the hall together, talking about various things, including Quidditch and their families. By the time they had reached the Great Hall, Bill had somehow managed to make Alex promise to show him some Quidditch moves. 

Entering the Hall, Alex could feel several eyes on him - including the very people who had been talking about him the night before. As he sat down, he was careful not to show he noticed the almost blatant stares. Instead, he greeted them simply, "Good morning."

Most of them turned away, embarrassed. McGonagall answered him, though. "Good morning, Alex. How are you today?" 

"I'm all right, thanks," he replied, then winced as Matt pulled his ear. "Ow, Matt, stop that!" 

The women at that table took that as a chance to take the child. Sprout got there first. "Alex, would you like me to hold him?" 

"Sure," said Alex, noticing his arms were getting a bit tired, and conveniently forgetting what he had thought were women's only objectives. Sitting down, he piled large amounts of food on his plate, but was very careful not to wolf down his food like Ron did. As he passed on the plate to Ryan, McGonagall asked him, "Are you doing anything today?" 

"Mmm...I'm not sure," said Alex, who knew full well what she was asking. "I need to study for my Mastery test. I might brew a couple potions for Matt after that. He's starting to get colicky. Which reminds me..." He turned to Slughorn. "Professor, could I borrow one of your labs for a couple of hours?" 

"Sure, my boy," replied Slughorn. "Take your time. You do know where they are?" 

"Yeah," answered Alex. Did he ever. "Don't worry, I'll take care of ‘em. I have to go shopping later anyways." 

"Oh, you are?" asked Sprout. "Would you like me to care for Matt, then?" 

"Oh, no," said Alex, smirking on the inside. "I really couldn't ask you to do that. Besides, Mr. Erlin will be coming back later today." 

"Oh," said Sprout, not in the least fuddled. "Will you be introducing him at dinner?" 

"If you like," said Alex. "Though he's been here already." 

"Oh, you mean that dignified old gentleman!" said Sprout, her eyes widening. "Oh, then yes, I have met him, but not properly introduced." 

"Then I shall gladly do so tonight, madam," said Alex, mock-bowing gallantly as he stood. "As for the present, I must take leave of your presence. I've lots to do today." 

He took a hop from the High Table, making sure Matt was safely tucked in his arms before doing so.  As he passed through the door, he made sure to walk extra slow...and he was rewarded for it. "Mr. Potter!"

Alex turned around. "Yes, Minerva?" 

"Oh," stuttered McGonagall, who had clearly been unnerved by Alex's cool demeanor. "I, err, well...I was wondering if you could do us - me - a favour." 

Alex smiled. Hook, line, and sinker. "Depends on what the favour is." 

"Oh, it's nothing difficult, really," said McGonagall, clearly flustered. In fact, she looked almost like Hermione did when things didn't go her way. "Could you brew me a potion?" 

"A potion?" Alex's right eyebrow rose. "Depends...are the materials here in the school?" 

"They should be..." McGonagall answered, wringing her hands. 

"So...what's the potion?" asked Alex. 

Instead of responding to his question, McGonagall dragged him down to the dungeons where the potions labs were located. As soon as they were safe inside, McGonagall waved her wand, checking for any eavesdroppers. Finding none, she responded, "Veritaserum." 

"Why would you need that?" asked Alex. ‘C'mon, you can tell me.' 

"Well, I really couldn't say," said McGonagall. "I'll have to ask Albus if I can tell you..." 

"I don't know..." said Alex, displaying a doubtful look. "I mean, I trust you and everything, but Veritaserum's some pretty dangerous stuff."   

McGonagall paused, and was about to reply, when she was interrupted. "There's no need, Minerva, I'll talk to the boy myself." 

"Albus!" McGonagall almost cried out in relief (of course, she didn't do so, being the dignified person that she was). "Thank Merlin. You can explain. I refuse to do your work for you." 

Alex had to smother a laugh. "So, Headmaster, why would like me to brew Veritaserum for you?" 

"In the interest of the war, of course," replied Dumbledore. 

 Alex feigned innocence. "Isn't it over?"  

"You know it isn't," stated Dumbledore. "We have Voldemort's followers to capture." 

"Shouldn't you leave that to the Ministry?" Alex deliberately baited the man. "After all, as an officer of a government, I'm not sure I can endorse in vigilante activity." 

There was a dead silence. Dumbledore and McGonagall thought that was a final stance, but Alex surprised him. Smiling cheekily, he said, "But hey, you know I've never been on the other side of the law before. Sure, I'll do it. When do you want it?"

Two blank stares met his question. Alex sighed, and repeated the question. "I said, when do you want it?" 

"We, err, heard you the first time, Alex," stuttered McGonagall. "But why?" 

"Why what?" asked Alex, as he walked around the room, gathering his materials. "Why am I brewing it for you?" 

"Yes, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, who now knew he was being played. "You know nothing of our intentions and yet...you would do this for us?" 

"Your intentions are clear," said Alex offhandedly. "It was quite simple to deduce, really. For the greatest wizard of our age, you can be remarkably simple." 

McGonagall sputtered at that. "Oh, really, Mr. Potter?" 

"Err, I didn't mean anything by it, Minerva, promise," said Alex, backtracking. "Only...it's the end of the war, and I'm sure you've got kids here with Death Eater ties, yeah? So I'm thinking you just want to make sure you know what side they're on." 

Dumbledore blinked. "You have remarkable deduction skills, Mr. Potter. Quite talented indeed."

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Alex. "Oh, what am I doing? I have some right here. Veritaserum, I mean." He pulled several vials out of his pocket. "My own special formula. I've been tweaking it here and there...I hope you don't mind using it. If you do mind, I can brew you the normal one. I just find it's harder to lie under mine than what the Ministry brews." 

Now they were both gaping at him like fishes. "Oh, c'mon, you know I'm a Potions Master, right? That's what I do best, for Merlin's sake." As an afterthought, "That and Transfiguration and catching criminals. It's a bloody crime, that's what I think, when people think I can't brew because I like my wand."   

Dumbledore recovered first. "Very well, then, Mr. Potter. I am in your debt, again." 

Alex smiled cheerfully. "Don't mention it, Headmaster. Oh, I should probably warn you that there are two full doses in each vial. You don't want them sputtering out every bit of their lives, I should think." 

The Headmaster paled. "No, certainly not. Thank you." 

He walked out of the room, but McGonagall stayed behind. "Alex, what did he mean by again?" 

Alex answered nonchalantly. "Oh, I got rid of the curse behind the Defense position, though I'm almost positive Ryan's still under it. He passed by those doors too many times for his own good, I'm afraid." 

"Doors?" McGonagall was confused. 

"Oh, sure, didn't you know?" asked Alex. "Lord Oldyfart put a curse on all the doorways of the Great Hall. Simply ingenious, don't you think?"

"Yes," said McGonagall unsurely. "Alex, how will you be spending your day?"

 Alex looked at the child in the next room. "Well, I was going to buy dress robes today, but Christoph's at the Ministry, so he can't take care of Matt today." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "So I guess I shall be taking the kid shopping with me. I dare say I could probably get something for him too, while I'm at it."

"I see," said McGonagall. "Pomona did volunteer her services..." 

"I don't think Matt'd be too comfortable with strangers just yet," said Alex. "But I might drop by and let Matt get to know the staff." 

"You could do that just as well at the impromptu staff meetings we have every night after curfew," reminded McGonagall. "I'm sure you'd enjoy it." 

"Well, Matt does sleep quite early..." he trailed off. There were staff gatherings after curfew? 

"Oh," she said, clearly disappointed. "Well, never mind then. But we do have some in the afternoon on Hogsmeade weekends, and there's one coming up next week." 

"That sounds interesting," said Alex. 

"That reminds me," said McGonagall, who started fishing in her pockets for something. "Ah, here it is. Your schedule for patrolling and which Hogsmeade weekends you're responsible for. Of course, I don't think you'll be asked to patrol too often, what with little Matthieu and all. But I'm sure you'd enjoy Hogsmeade, especially since we haven't had one in so long without You-Know- Who hanging around our heads." She shook her head. "Alex, is your schedule acceptable?" 

"Oh, it's fine, Minerva," said Alex. "It's just that there's something that the back of my head I can't figure out." 

"Back of your head?" McGonagall peered behind him. "There's nothing there." 

"Oh, sorry," said Alex sheepishly. "It's a Muggle expression. I just meant...there's something nagging at me that I can't quite grasp at the moment, that's all." He shrugged. "It's okay, it'll come back." 

"If you're sure..." said McGonagall doubtfully. "You should probably go buy those robes, Alex, before it's too late. Horace was telling me about your dinner engagement tonight." 

"Err...yes," said Alex. "I'm pretty keen on meeting Mr. Snape. A Potions Master at eighteen! You know, besides you, me, and Mr. Snape, no one's ever gotten their Mastery before the age of at least thirty!" 

McGonagall laughed wryly. "And Severus is your age, is that it?" 

"Er, well, yeah," said Alex. "But I'm pretty nervous too. I mean, he must be absolutely brilliant!" 

"You are brilliant in your own right, Alex," said McGonagall. "Now, I'm going to take the child off your hands while you go shopping. Shoo!" 

Alex held up his hands in mock surrender as he inched backwards towards the door. "All right, all right, I'm going!" 

"Hooligan," muttered McGonagall. Alex merely laughed, and ran down the hallway. "No running, Mr. Potter!" 

She winced. For someone who hadn't ever met James Potter, Alexandre Potter had a remarkable resemblance to him.

********

A high, lilted voice greeted him. "Welcome to Ribbons and Robes, how may we help you today?" 

"I've come to look for a couple of dress robes," said Alex. "And maybe some casual as well." He thought of the robes he had brought with him, and he internally winced. All of them were more or less battle robes, and the one relatively decent one he had was the uniform of la Department de la Police de la Magie (or DPM). And he definitely would not be wearing that in his first meeting with Snape. That would be...awkward, especially considering Snape was on the run from the DMLE here in England. 

"Any specifics?" asked the woman, who had already taken her measuring tools out. "Colours, length, style?" 

"Err...I'm not quite sure," said Alex. "Blue? Black? Red? Err...green would be all right too, I think." 

"Oh, you're one of those," huffed the woman. "Merlin forbid I have a decent customer..." 

"Sorry," Alex sheepishly said. "I'm not used to picking out dress robes for myself. My girlfriend..." 

The woman seemed to see that the direction of the conversation was not going over with her customer. "Oh, I'm sorry, dearie. But I must know, what colours did she pick for you?" 

"Oh, the ones I mentioned earlier," said Alex. "And I don't think I want anything frilly." 

The woman looked insulted. "Of course not," she said. "We don't sell frilly here. We sell beautiful, comfortable...but not frilly. If you wanted frilly, you can go to Twilfit and Tatter's." She huffed about in disgust. "Frilly robes indeed! Shame upon the art!"

"Sorry about that," said Alex. "See, I'm not from around here, so I wouldn't know."

"I can tell," said the woman. "You have a French lilt to your English." 

"Whoops," said Alex, and was promptly buried in white robes. "Uh...help a little bit?" 

"Sorry, dearie," said the woman. "The robe chooses the wizard, don't you know. Then I tailor it your needs. See?" 

All Alex could "see" was the rapidly diminishing pile disappearing off his face. "Ah, perfect for you, these styles. How many of these do you want?" 

"Two dress robes, one in black, the other red, I think," said Alex. "And then...three teaching robes, in black, blue, and green. And the five casual, ummm...same colours?" 

"You've only given me four colours, young man," said the woman cheerfully. 

"Err...grey?" asked Alex. The woman turned around and looked at him like there was something wrong with him. Alex sputtered indignantly. "What's wrong with grey?" 

"What's wrong with it?" asked the woman incredulously. "Do you want to look like a hobo off the street? No, grey will not do. Brown...no, not that either. Yellow?" 

"No, definitely not yellow," shuddered Alex, remembering his mishaps with the Weasley Twins' Canary Cream. "Why don't I just take another blue?" 

"As you wish," said the woman. "Come back in an hour." 

"An hour?" asked Alex, his mouth agape. "You can do it that quickly?" 

"Of course," said the woman. "Who do you think I am, Madam Malkins?"

"No, no, definitely not, madam," said Alex. "An hour...yeah." With that, he fled into the streets, eager to get away from the scary old lady. "I'm going to get that old man for doing this to me!" He huffed as he walked to the Three Broomsticks, not noticing at all how most other people gave him a wide berth in the road. "Oh, Merlin...you are so going to get it!"

If the people around him truly understood what he was saying, they would have looked a little more closely. As it was, he was getting enough strange stares. Walking into the pub, he seated himself in front of the counter. 

Madam Rosmerta greeted him. "Hello! I haven't seen a new fellow in ages! I'm Christina Rosmerta, but most people call me Madam Rosmerta." Alex stared at her for a bit. She hadn't looked...this pretty the last time he had seen her. What would you like?" 

"Hello," said Alex, finally done letting all his steam out (and realizing how embarrassing it was to be caught staring). "A Butterbeer would be fine, thanks." 

"Very well," said Madam Rosmerta. "Say, you aren't that new Defense Professor up at Hogwarts, are you?" 

Alex looked like a deer caught in front of headlights. "Er, well, yes, I am. How'd you know?" 

"Oh, Professor Ryan's been down here quite frequently," said Madam Rosmerta. "He's such a darling. My age, you know." 

"Oh, really?" Alex asked. Kevin Ryan easily looked at least five years older than him...Madam Rosmerta was truly older than him by five years? She looked so much younger! "So...you've got your sight set upon him then?" 

"Oh, my, no," blushed Madam Rosmerta. "But if he keeps coming down here, maybe I will be!" 

"I wish you good luck, then," said Alex, then asked sheepishly, "Could I have a sandwich with my Butterbeer? I just realized I'm kinda hungry." 

"Coming right up!" In seconds, the sandwich was placed in front of Alex, and he began to devour his target ferociously. "Mmm...this is delicious!"

"Why, thank you," blushed Madam Rosmerta. "Say, I didn't catch your name..." 

"Oh," said Alex, as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Alexandre Potter, it's nice to meet you. But please, call me Alex." 

"All right then, Alex," said Madam Rosmerta, with a twinkle in her eye. "So I heard you have a son?" 

"Yeah," said Alex, and tried to assume the proud-father look. "Matthieu's his name. Cute little tyke, if I do say so myself." 

Madam Rosmerta laughed. "Oh? How old is he?" 

"He's almost two," said Alex. "But I've been told the Terrible Twos are the worst." 

She mock-shuddered. "My nephew just turned four, but from the time he was two, he was a right nightmare! Always throwing tantrums, drawing on walls, stealing my sister's wand...it was pretty bad." 

"You're putting me on, right?" asked Alex incredulously. "Please tell me you are." 

"Nope," smirked Madam Rosmerta. "Good luck, ‘cause you'll need it!" She frowned. "Where's your wife, then?" 

"Oh..." said Alex, and smiled painfully. "She passed away giving birth to little Matt...I don't really like to talk about it." 

"I'm really sorry, Alex," said Madam Rosmerta gently. "Tell you what, this meal's on me." 

"Wait, you don't have to do that," objected Alex. 

"Don't worry about it," dismissed Madam Rosmerta. "You'll just have to come back, then." 

"Like I wouldn't!" said Alex. "Your food's really great!" As he reached for his Butterbeer, he suddenly saw the time.  "Oh my gosh!"

"What?" Madam Rosmerta was suddenly alarmed. 

"I have to go get my robes!" With a dash, Alex Potter was out the door, leaving the door swinging and creaking. "See you later!" 

Alex had a feeling the scary lady in the shop would definitely not appreciate his lateness. With a bang, he entered the shop. "I'm back!" 

"Do me the simple courtesy next time to open the door, and not run through it," said the woman frostily. "Fortunately for you, I had this door custom designed for more...exuberant customers like you." She passed him a bag. "Here are your robes. 95 Galleons, please."

"Really?" asked Alex. "Only 95?" 

"Would you like to pay me more?" asked the woman. "I have no objections." 

"Oh, no," said Alex. "It's just the other stores...I'd have to pay at least 300 Galleons, that's all." 

"Well, dearie," said the woman. "I am not like the other stores, am I?" 

"No, no," said Alex. As soon as he had paid and said his thanks, he booted out of the shop.  By the time he reached Hogwarts, he was panting quite heavily. 

"Goodness, Alexandre Potter!" exclaimed McGonagall, who was currently carrying Matt. "What have you done to yourself?" 

"Running away from the scary lady," said Alex wryly, after catching his breath. "You know that woman who owns Ribbons and Robes? I swear she's a monster!"

"Really, now," chided McGonagall. "It couldn't have been that bad." 

"Ugh," said Alex. "I refuse to go there again until I have to get new robes." 

"I hope you bought nice robes," sniffed McGonagall disapprovingly. "I will not have another teacher in this school wearing robes like Albus's." 

Alex had to choke back a laugh. "Really, Minerva, can you see me wearing purple robes with yellow ducks on them?" 

"Why, no," admitted McGonagall. "But I have the impression you didn't pick out the robes yourself." 

"Err...I didn't," said Alex. "The robes chose me." 

"The robes chose you?" asked McGonagall. "Are you sure you aren't confusing them with wands?" 

"Of course not," sputtered Alex. "You wouldn't understand...anyways, I was thinking of changing into one of them. Care to come and critique?" 

"Certainly," said McGonagall, shifting Matt on her hip. "I'd be delighted to." Then she muttered under her breath, "And if they're hideous, I can banish them." 

Alex laughed, and Matt giggled along with him. McGonagall just huffed, and said something akin to, "Like father, like son." 

*********

After receiving his "A-OK" from McGonagall, Alex decided to plan out precisely what he was going to do. But within half an hour, he had already started pacing back and forth within his study, and he still had no idea what to do. Thank goodness Merlin and McGonagall were outside busy talking; if they saw him like this, they would definitely snoop.

So far, he had getting rid of that last Horcrux first, and then wait for Voldemort's return. But the more he thought about it, the more upset he became. It honestly wasn't just about Voldemort; it was about the Wizarding society as a whole. If things continued on the way they were, well, they were just asking for another Dark Lord to rise again. The most glaring of these issues was the corruption of the government, and through it (albeit indirectly), the bias against the Muggleborns. 

But how would he start about changing everything? If he changed everything too drastically, would he be creating a better world, or a worse one? Thinking about this gave him a headache. The only bright side to this was the fact that Cornelius Fudge would not be in power for another eight years. Though...it didn't seem Bagnold was any better. At that moment, an owl swooped in and smacked him with the Daily Prophet. "Oi! What was that for?" 

The owl ignored him, and swept out again. Alex was about to start ranting about ignorant birds, when he caught the front page: Lucius Malfoy on Trial Tuesday! 

Alex smiled. Well, here's one place he could help, surely. Malfoy had bribed his way out of an Azkaban sentence the last time, but he wouldn't be getting away with it this time around. Alex grimaced. The thought was well and all, but how would he go around doing it? Surely, there had to be a way. He sat on his plush office chair, and pondered, looking not unlike A. A. Milne's bear when trying to get honey, so much so he was startled out of his wits when Merlin tapped him on the shoulder. "Merlin!" 

"Dear me," said Merlin. "So sorry for startling you."

Alex tried to shrug off his irritation. "No, it's okay...though you could have warned me." 

"I did, I called your name. Three times, might I add," said Merlin. 

"No, I meant the scary lady at the shop," said Alex, adding a meaningful look. "She was..." Alex shuddered. "Anyways, what do you want?"

 "Minerva and I were just wondering if you would like to have tea," said Merlin. "It's three already, you know." 

"Oh, sure," said Alex, and the two men walked out of the study together. "So, did you set up the appointment?" 

Merlin nodded. "It's Tuesday afternoon and all of Wednesday." 

"Tuesday??" asked Alex, pausing midstep. "Wait, give me a sec." He ran back to grab the Daily Prophet, and sighed a relief when he saw that Lucius Malfoy's trial was in the morning. "Thank goodness." 

"What's wrong, Alex?" asked McGonagall, who was feeding Matt milk from his bottle. 

"Oh, Lucius Malfoy, that's what's wrong," said Alex, a bit gloomily. "He's going to get off, I just know it. And then he's going to corrupt half the Wizarding World." 

"Malfoy?" asked McGonagall. "As in, the Death Eater, Malfoy?" 

"Isn't there just one Malfoy?" asked Alex sourly. "With all that money, he's definitely going scot-free. I've seen the Ministry do this all the time." 

"Oh, the French are better?" asked McGonagall. 

Alex felt his cheeks heating up. He had forgotten...oh well. McGonagall provided a good enough cover. "Yeah, not so much corruption. You Engl-sorry, the English Ministry has a lot to improve on. I mean, yeah, you've got females in leadership positions, but your thinking isn't very advanced at all. In France, no one cares if you're pureblood or not. Here, it seems the more pure your blood is, the more job opportunities you get." 

"Hmmm..." said McGonagall. "I certainly can't disagree with that. But I think Millicent Bagnold is doing a terrific job so far, no?" 

"Only because her term started with the defeat of Voldemort, I think," said Alex. "She's had an easy go at it. The last Minister, Minister Howard Randall was only terrible because he had a terrible time against Voldemort." At McGonagall's wince, he said, "You know, I don't know why everyone's so afraid of his name."

At her glare, he hastily continued. "And if it weren't for Crouch, I'm sure we wouldn't have been able to catch so many Death Eaters, either. Bagnold seems slow in picking up the pieces. Surely she would have installed some new legislature pertaining the trials by now, since we're no longer at war. But the war terms are still used." 

"Well, you certainly are informed," said McGonagall, thoroughly impressed. "You make quite a sound argument, but are you really sure-?" 

"Oh, yes," said Alex, then he brightened. "Oh, that reminds me! I'm sure Grattack could help me!" 

Taking off, he yelled, "I won't be back ‘til six!" 

Merlin shook his head and laughed. "Oh, to have the energy of the young..." 

McGonagall looked at the sleeping infant in her lap. "I don't know, Christopher, this one looks pretty tired to me." 

"He'll grow up," said Merlin, smiling. "And then he'll be an overflowing fount of energy."   

********

Alex sprinted down Diagon Alley, almost hitting several people. "Sorry!" 

Finally, he reached Gringotts'. Entering, he quickly approached the goblin behind the counter. "Hello, I'd like to see the goblin who previously helped me with my bank vault." 

"And who would that be?" grunted the goblin, clearly disgruntled with dealing with humans. 

"Master Grattack, I believe," said Alex. "Is he available?"

"Hmmm..." the goblin slowly looked down his schedule book. "Yes." Then he turned to the goblin standing next to the counter. "Greck, take this man to Grattack." 

"Yes, sir," said Greck. "Follow me." 

Alex found himself walking a very familiar hallway, and soon, was waiting - yet again - in front of Grattack's office. "Greetings, Master Grattack," Alex said in gobbledydook, as soon as the door closed, leaving just the two beings in the room. "May the stars shine brightly upon your gold tonight." 

Grattack's eyes widened in surprise, probably because he had never expected to see Alex again. "And upon yours, Mr. Potter. May peace enter your dwelling place." He paused. "Please, have a seat. How may I help you today?" 

"Well..." said Alex, fidgeting as he sat down. "I have a rather large favour to ask of you..." 

"Please, anything," urged Grattack. "And no, there are no strings attached." This had been a response to Alex's rather fish-like look. Grattack sighed, and stated, "You want an explanation." At Alex's nod, he continued, "Well, I saw the confidence with which you had decided to invest in those Muggle companies, and recently, they have started a steep uprise. I have already been promoted, and there is promise of more. As much as it pains to owe anything to a human, I feel I must repay this." 

"Ah," said Alex with a laugh.

 "Not to say you aren't delightful for a human, I mean," said Grattack hastily. "You are. It's just...you're not a goblin." 

"Don't worry," said Alex. "Humans are just as bigoted." He shrugged. "Which sort of relates to what I'm about to say to you..." 

"By all means," said Grattack, who was quite curious by now. "Go on."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be familiar with the Malfoy family, yes?" asked Alex. 

"Why, of course," said Grattack. "Abraxas Malfoy only died a month ago of dragon pox. Lucius Malfoy is the new head of the family now." 

"Yeah," said Alex. "So...I don't know how to phrase this, but you do know he's going on trial in two days?" 

"For what?" asked Grattack. Alex groaned, had goblins been this stuck in neverland the last time around? 

"For being a Death Eater," said Alex, and elaborated upon seeing Grattack's blank stare. "Follower of Voldemort, ring a bell?"

"And?" asked Grattack. 

"Anyways," said Alex. "I was wondering if you could freeze Malfoy's account until he lands in Azkaban." 

"Why would we do that?" asked Grattack. "We would lose profit! And a valuable customer!" 

"Okay, look, Grattack," said Alex seriously now, leaning forward as he spoke. "This is very important. If he gets away with this, Voldemort will have a wide opening when he comes back." 

"Isn't Voldemort dead?" asked Grattack. "That's why you have the Potter boy." As an afterthought, he added, "And I don't think You-Know-Who is a threat either. He's brought great business in." 

Alex felt like gnashing his teeth. The goblin had just played him! "Oh, trust me, he will be," Alex said grimly. "For one, he doesn't care about you. He'll rob you as soon as you're not looking." 

"And how is that different from other humans?" asked Grattack. "Humans try to rob us blind all the time." 

"No," said Alex. "He's not just going to rob you, he's going to kill you or sell your kind into slavery. Anyone not a so-called pureblooded human will suffer this fate. And so, Master Grattack," Alex paused, as he thought of how he could begin one of the most sacred Goblin oaths, "I ask only for the sake of our future generation this gift, and for the assurance of the continuation of my blood, that money may continuously flow between us." 

Grattack's eyes opened even wider than they had been when they had first met. And he had good reason: this oath was seldom invoked, since it showed the sincerity and the desperation of the vower; had the vower not been true to their word, they would have been killed. As well, if this oath succeeded on the part of the asker, then it required the respondent to agree, or else risk losing all their money. In this way, it was both a threat, and the promise of a life-debt from the vower to the respondent. Grattack took a breath, "In the name of all that is Good, I swear I will uplift this request, and consider it upon my entire being, that money may continuously flow between us, and to make us equal peers in this world."

It was Alex's turn to be shocked. Why had he added the last part? 

He could see the magic binding the two of them, and when it settled, Alex sagged into his chair. Grattack,  on the other hand, had already begun to freeze the Malfoys' account. "You want to know why I did that?" 

"Yeah," said Alex. "I didn't expect you to, and you definitely didn't have to." 

"I told you...money to Goblins is everything," said Grattack. "By ensuring that I will rise in power, I owed you a debt, and I've just paid it back - in full." 

"If you say so," said Alex doubtfully, then noticed the red writing on Lucius Malfoy's file. "Hey, what's that?" 

"Narcissa Malfoy has decided to apply for a divorce," said Grattack, shaking his head. "It's impossible. She'll end up...Never mind. Alex, in light of what you said, I've pushed for the freezing of all known Death Eater accounts. Of course...since we rarely do this, wizards don't know we still continue to take money." He winked slyly. "I was only testing you before. I didn't think you were going to be that serious. By the way, have you got any new investments for us?" 

"Well, Zonko's Joke Shop is opening up," said Alex thoughtfully. "You might want to try that. Though in about ten years, I think we'll want to stop investing there." 

"You say it like you know something's going to come up," said Grattack skeptically. 

"Of course," joked Alex. "I'm a Seer, don'tcha know." 

"And I'm a talking donkey," said Grattack. "Very well, Zonko's Joke Shop it is." 

"Oh," said Alex, then frowned. "Oh, man, I forgot what I was going to say!" 

"I'm almost afraid to hear it," said Grattack dryly. "Don't tell me you want to be Minister for Magic, please don't." 

Alex looked insulted. "Do I really look that stupid to you?" 

Grattack smiled. "Who knows?" 

"Ugh," groaned Alex. "You're almost as bad as...oh, I've got it!" 

"Is there any way for you to help Mrs. Malfoy with her divorce?" asked Alex. "Or for me?" 

"Well, there's certainly bribery," said Grattack doubtfully. "But I doubt the Head of her family will let her. The Malfoys wont object, since only Lucius is left, and if he's locked away...well, you get the picture." 

"Hmmm...Black family, right?" asked Alex. "As in Sirius Black?" 

"Let me check," said Grattack. "Yes, he's the only male in the Black family still alive." 

"Well, I'm sure he'll say yes," said Alex. "We just need to push it past the preliminary stages and then we're home free." 

"Home free?" asked Grattack, puzzled. 

"Sorry, Muggle expression," apologized Alex. "Just means...we'll be all right." 

"Ah," said Grattack. "I can certainly do that. May I ask why you have so much...interest in this family?" 

"That's for me to know, and you to find out," said Alex cheekily, then glanced down at his watch. 6:15. "Oh, I have to go, Master Grattack. Pleasure doing business with you, as always. May your gold be everlasting..." Then he added tentatively, "and our friendship ever-blooming." 

Grattack smiled. "And to you as well, Mr. Potter. Good day." 

********

"Alexandre!" Horace Slughorn greeted him exuberantly. "May I compliment you on your robes? They are positively exquisite. Where on earth did you get them?" 

Alex had chosen the deep blue robes for that night, and he was rapidly starting to regret his decision. "Oh, at Ribbons and Robes."

"I see," said Slughorn, who didn't look like he "saw" at all. "Come in, come in. Severus is already here." 

The inside of Slughorn's rooms were decorated with various pictures of students over the years. The rooms looked well-lived in, and it seemed fairly grandiose - not. Just like the man was, the rooms tried to pass on the feeling of grandness, and came up cheap instead. Still, the food at the table looked positively delightful. Then, Alex's heart plummeted. For there, in all his glory, as Severus Snape, glowering at him. Slughorn didn't even seem to notice. "Severus Snape, this is Alexandre Potter." 

Alex stuck out his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." 

Snape took his hand tentatively. "And you, as well." 

They seated themselves at the table, and made small talk.  Of course, Slughorn started talking first. "So, Alex, tell me about your Masteries." 

"Well, I have two under my belt," said Alex. "But I hope to add a third." 

"Potions and Transfiguration," nodded Slughorn. "Heard it from Pomona myself. And your third?" 

"Well, I'm doing the various tests come Tuesday and Wednesday for my Defense Mastery," said Alex. "Severus - if I may call you that - you're the youngest Potions Master in recorded history, right?" 

"Very well...if I may call you Alex, then," answered Snape. "And yes, I am...though the accolade is significantly less than what you might think it would be." 

"People kick a fuss over me," said Alex ruefully. "But I think French people are just...exubérant." 

"Oh, yes, Alex," urged Slughorn. "Tell us of your exploits in France!" He turned to Snape. "Mr. Potter here is one of the sub-heads in the DMLE over in Marseilles." 

Snape nodded, though he looked bored, truthfully. Alex wanted to laugh. Slughorn had certainly done his research. "Well, I'm in charge of taking care of Death Eaters who flee to France. We recently caught Fenrir Greyback." 

Snape's eyes widened. "Greyback? How did you manage to capture him?" 

"Oh," said Alex. "We used tranquilizer guns." 

"Tranquilizer guns?" asked Slughorn. 

"They're a Muggle thing," said Alex (who, by the way, was making everything up). "Guns are much faster than spells, and they've become very silent. The tranqs basically put him to sleep. It took about six of those shots to get him to sleep though." 

"Guns?" asked Slughorn skeptically. "Muggles surely can't have developed that." 

Snape interjected, "I've seen these guns that Mr. Potter is talking about. No wizard can stand against one in the arms of a capable Muggle." 

"Truly?" asked Slughorn. "How...miraculous!" 

Alex nodded. "Severus is right. Less than five rounds could probably knock out my shield...which is why I always wear a bulletproof vest under my robes." 

"So...Alex," said Snape. "I take it you are the Defense teacher?" 

"Yeah," answered Alex. "I just got the job a couple days ago. I'm only teaching the upper grades though. Kevin Ryan will continue to teach the younger ones. And you'll be assisting Horace?" 

"Yes," said Snape, then added stiffly, "Thank you for the recommendation." 

Alex laughed it off. "Don't worry about it. I know if I hadn't already been so famous for being a prodigy in France, I wouldn't have gotten my job. So take it as help from an equally gifted friend." 

Snape relaxed. "Then, a toast to our new jobs?" 

"An excellent idea," said Slughorn. "To our new professors!" 

From there, the night progressed excellently. By the end of it, Alex and Snape decided to leave Slughorn's quarters together, and it was there that Alex decided to confront Snape. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Certainly, Alex," said Snape. 

"Here, let's go into my office," said Alex, and soon they stepped in. Warding it against intruders, he turned to Snape. "I have to ask you...what side are you on?"

Snape stiffened, and seemed to motion towards his wand. "What are you insinuating?" 

"No, I don't mean any harm," said Alex. "I worked undercover, myself. I know how it feels. So tell me, are you...?" 

Snape nodded stiffly. "The Aurors...they're hunting me now. I know Lestrange will have given me away." He looked away. "For my sins, I should rot in Azkaban, but I know Dumbledore will come to my rescue. My only redemption...is the Potter child." 

"Harry Potter?" Alex asked. He hadn't known this. 

"Yes," said Snape. "I will protect him with my life...since it is my fault that his parents are dead, and it is an appropriate burden." 

"You know Voldemort killed them, right?" asked Alex, not sure he had heard correctly. No wonder the man kept saving him time after time. "You didn't have anything to do with it." 

"I-I...told the Dark Lord something...that the Potters had something in their possession that Dark Lord wanted," said Snape. For a normally stoic man, he seemed abnormally emotional at the moment. 

"Regardless," said Alex. "You turned to spying, didn't you?" 

"H-How did you know?" asked Snape hoarsely. "Did Dumbledore tell you?" 

"Yes...and no," said Alex. "I know the Prophecy. And I know that you loved Lily Potter. It was a simple matter of putting together the pieces."

 Snape nodded. "When they catch me...all they'll see is my Dark Mark, my shame..." 

Alex took in a sharp breath. "I might have a solution for that, actually. That's why I wanted to talk to you." When he saw Snape was looking at him intently, he continued, "I studied the Dark Marks of Voldemort's followers back in France. It's a soul link, essentially." 

Snape recoiled in horror. "My soul...is attached to his?" 

"Unfortunately, yes," said Alex. "But I know a way to sever it without killing you. You see...in the last war, Grindelwald had dabbled in a bit of this, but not to Voldemort's extent. He left behind notes...which I'm sure Voldemort took. From those, I have discovered the counter to forced soul links." 

Snape's eyes gleamed. "A potion?" 

"Mhm," said Alex. "But the ingredients are incredibly rare. Peppercorn Black in its earliest developing stages, fresh phoenix tears, fully developed Angelica roots, blood of the victim, and wild magic." 

"The Peppercorn and Angelica roots I can obtain," said Snape. "And I can provide the blood as well." Alex wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. He definitely didn't want to look juvenile in front of Snape. "The phoenix tears will be difficult, and wild magic is...impossible." 

"Not exactly," said Alex. "I...I can call wild magic. And Dumbledore's phoenix can provide them, I think, if I ask nicely." 

"Perhaps," nodded Snape. "I can procure them now, if you like. I coincidentally was using those very same items earlier." 

"Really?" asked Alex. "With what?" 

"For a client," said Snape. "To keep her purity intact...and from being attacked." 

"I see," said Alex. "Well, why don't you use my Floo and come right back?" 

Snape quickly assented, and soon, Alex was left in an empty room. "I really need to get a Potions Lab." 

Merlin chuckled. "Dumbledore came by today and added one for you." 

"Did he really?" asked Alex. "I didn't even ask for one!" 

"You know Dumbledore," said Merlin. "Too proud to say he's mistaken, but he tries to allay that by giving presents." 

Alex laughed. "Yep, that's him all right. Hey, you think Dumbledore'll notice if I call his phoenix?"

"No," said Merlin. "He's in the staff room currently, using your Veritaserum on the suspected students. A very good dosage, if I do say so myself." 

"Thanks," said Alex. "So, how many has he caught?" 

"Most of them he's asked," said Merlin grimly. "He's quite upset." 

"Anyone would be, I think," said Alex. "Fawkes!"

 To his surprise, the phoenix came immediately. "Hello, Fawkes, do you know me?" 

"You're that idiot boy who crushed the other world out of existence," said Fawkes with a huff. "You could've given me a little warning." 

"Our timeline...doesn't exist?" asked Alex incredulously. "Never mind. We'll discuss this later. Fawkes, I have a really big favour to ask of you." 

"What." 

"Could I have some of your tears?" asked Alex tentatively. "It's to get rid of Snape's Dark Mark and Harry's scar." 

"Oh, so you just want me to cry on demand now, is it?" stormed the phoenix. "Any other time you don't think I'm important enough, do you?" 

"Of course you're important, Fawkes," said Alex, trying to calm the fiery bird down. 

Fawkes huffed. "Fine, go get a vial." 

Alex took some out of his robes, and gave them to Fawkes, and the bird, upon grasping them, began to sing. Alex almost lost himself in the song, the music conveying such loss and heart-rend, and the bitterness yet hopefulness the phoenix projected. His heart swelled with the music, and every being within the 1000 km radius could hear it. Those who did wondered what had caused a phoenix to sing, and upstairs, Dumbledore found his heart and soul uplifted once more. Down below, however, Alex became so engrossed in the music, he didn't even notice his own tears trickling down his face, and was overwhelmingly disoriented when the phoenix stopped. "Thank you, Fawkes." 

Without a word, the phoenix flew out the window, and Alex waved a silent goodbye. 

"In the name of all that is good and holy..." stuttered Snape. "I assume he gave them to you?" 

"Yes, he did," said Alex. "We can begin brewing now. Christoph," he addressed Merlin. "Could you get a quarter of a vial of blood from Matt?" 

"Certainly," said Merlin. Within minutes, he was back, and by then, most of Snape's potion had already begun looking right. Alex exclaimed, "Severus, you're amazing!" 

"Not at all, Alex," said Snape. 

"Don't be so modest," said Alex. "Flaunt a little bit. No wonder no one fawns over you." 

Snape made an unintelligible sound. At that moment, the cauldron began to bubble. Alex exclaimed, "Put your blood in now!" 

Snape quickly reached for the vial, and poured it in, and Alex began to infuse his wild magic into the potion. Without the infusion of the pure magic, the potion would only ward against evil. They waited, and waited, and waited. The bubbling seemed to last for an eternity. When it finally calmed down, Alex stopped the flow of the magic. 

Snape looked at him like he was an alien. "You did wild magic wandlessly!" 

"That's the only way you can do it," said Alex. "Now, drink." 

Snape quickly downed the first vial, then the second, and then the third. "I-I can feel it!" He shoved his sleeve up his arm, and gazed in fascination at the rapidly diminishing mark. In less than an hour, his arm was as unblemished as it had been before he had turned sixteen. "You...you did it!" He blushed. "You have my deepest thanks, Alexandre Potter." 

"Don't worry," said Alex. "I know a good man when I see one." 

Snape looked away. "I'm not that man...I must confess, though, that when I was first informed of your name, I was prepared to hate you. I had an unfortunate run-in with a certain James Potter-" 

"My cousin," supplied Alex. 

Snape nodded. "But it seems I was gravely mistaken." 

"Don't worry about it, Severus," said Alex. "You know, with my affinity to wild magic, I can tell the intents of people. I knew I could trust you." He looked at Merlin, and conveyed his thoughts. Can I tell him about little Matt? 

Merlin nodded inconspicuously. Alex turned to Snape. "I, umm...recently gained custody of Harry Potter." 

Snape looked at him. "Really?" 

"Yes," said Alex. "But for his safety, we have changed his features and his name...Would you like to see him?" 

"Could I?" asked Severus. 

"Of course," said Alex. "Though I think he's asleep right now. We'll just have to be quiet."

 The two men walked into the nursery, where the child slept. "Severus...I've renamed him Matthieu Henri Potter."

"A fitting name," said Snape. "Better than Harry James Potter." 

Alex laughed softly. "The features aren't permanent. My mentor, the old man with us outside, helped us manipulate his Metamorphagus abilities." 

"Does he have Lily's eyes still?" asked Snape hoarsely. 

"Yes," said Alex. "But you can see...he has my features. I hope you don't mind." 

"The last time I saw the boy...I couldn't bear to look at him," confessed Snape. "I could only see his father's face, and little else. This...is better. Thank you, Alex." 

"You're welcome, Severus," said Alex. "Feel free to come by and visit." 

The two men walked out together. "Say, Severus, when are you moving in?" 

"The Headmaster has yet to show me my arrangements," admitted Snape. "But likely in the next week." 

"Well, tell me if you need help decorating," said Alex. "Anyways, have a good night!" 

Snape was gone with a whoosh through the Floo. As soon as he was gone, Alex bounded into the lab. "Merlin, are you almost ready?" 

Merlin nodded. "We only have to wait for it to bubble...ah, here we go." 

He poured the blood in, and Alex infused the potion with wild magic again. As soon as it was done, they rushed over to the boy, and made the child drink the entire vial. Matt was surprisingly obedient, and soon, all traces of Dark Magic were gone from his system. Alex cheered. Only the Gaunt Ring left! 

Merlin was looking at him oddly. "If you couldn't control wild magic until the last battle, who got rid of the scar for you?" 

"To be truthful," said Alex. "I don't really know. I just know...I met this old man and he just felt...right. He went through all the steps with me, and we brewed it. And...he was the one who taught me wild magic existed." Alex shrugged. "Hogwarts was willing to lend me some at first, which is what I used in the Battle, but now I can pull it from anywhere." 

"Hmmm..." said Merlin, stroking his stubble of a beard. "Are you sure you don't know his name?" 

"Positive," said Alex. "But he wasn't white. He was Asian." 

Merlin muttered darkly. "All right then, we better get some sleep. Tomorrow you have to help Ryan with his seventh years." 

"God forbid I should deal with hormonal teenagers already," said Alex. 

"You know, you are one," reminded Merlin. "Now get to bed. I'll make sure Matt'll be all right." 

"All right, then," said Alex. "Good night." 

********

Snape took a look at his arm again. Having disbelieved that it was truly gone, he had rubbed the skin pink and raw. But finally, when he could see no trace of the former Mark, he had sat down and pondered over that night's events.

 He didn't trust strangers, as a rule. Especially not ones named Potter...but then, this man had taken in Lily's son, and he seemed to be doing a good enough job at it. There was something nagging at him in the background though; throughout the course of the meal, Potter had acted like he had known him well. Snape prided himself on being a very private person, and rarely opened up to people. Those he did so with were well trusted friends, and Potter was not one of those. Yet...despite his own dark reputation, and Potter's own job with the French Department of Law Enforcement, Potter had gone out of his way to help him. And the fact that he had shown him the Potter child...that was even stranger. Why him, of all people? Did he know of the life debt he owed both the Potters? 

He leaned back in his chair, carefully pondering the night, when he heard the Floo connection open. "Hello, Severus?" 

Snape almost groaned. It was Potter. "Coming, Alex." 

"Severus...I've heard news the Aurors have caught on to your whereabouts," said a pale Alex Potter. 

Severus smirked. "They won't be able to find me. This place is well guarded." 

"I don't know about that," said Alex. "Wait, I'm coming through." Without waiting for Snape to step back, Alex barreled through the Floo. "Whoops, sorry about that."

"What do you want?" asked Snape, who was quite a bit annoyed at the moment.

"Here," Alex thrusted a vial into his hands. "This will negate the effects of the Ministry Veritaserum. Take it if you need it...though without that Mark, I think you should be fine. Or, better yet, just come to Hogwarts with me. You can stay in my quarters...Christoph is leaving in a week anyways." 

"If they come, they will come," said Snape calmly. "But thank you for your offer....and the vial. I'm certain it'll be quite useful." Tucking it into his deep pockets in his robes, he asked, "But, Mr. Potter, I must ask, why are you being so...convivial towards me?" 

"I'm always this friendly," dismissed Alex. "Besides, I can see you can be an excellent friend. Like I said, wild magic's a pretty good indicator of what you're really like. And honestly, that's all I want - to be your friend. Plus, you're closer in age to me...and well, you know what it's like to be stuck at Hogwarts with old, barmy people." He shrugged. "So...we friends?" 

Snape looked at the hand proffered critically. Did he want this? It seemed to go against every fibre in his body, but somehow, at the same time, there was something telling him that this arrangement might be beneficial in the overall scheme of things.

Finally, Snape nodded, and shook the hand. "Friends."

Malfoy was fuming. He had just received word from his solicitor that Gringotts had frozen all his funds, and that his wife had just filed for divorce. What nerve! Didn't they know who he was? When he got out, he'd be taking Gringotts to court. Luckily for him, the Malfoy main vaults weren't the only vaults he had. In case of emergency, he had placed a substantial fortune in France as well. And his wife! He clenched his fists in anger. He had barely touched her, the last time he chastised her. It had taken so much money to erase that complaint. From then, he had been very careful not to hit her where it was visible. He smirked. Lucius Malfoy had been a Slytherin for a reason. He would fight this, not with Gryffindor stupidity, but with his intelligence and his skill of manipulation. Of course, he knew that he most probably couldn't do it on his own; instead, he had hired top-flight lawyers: Beck and Grey. 

Beck and Grey had already helped Karkaroff off, and they had managed to get his sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange, off the Kiss. He abruptly snapped out of his reverie, when he heard footsteps coming by. Last time had been the guards, who ridiculed him. Those, he vowed, would be fired too.

"Lucius!" Ah, it was Minister Bagnold. He stood up, and tried to look as aristocratic as he could with rumpled clothing. Things were looking up, if the Minister was still on a first-name basis with him.  

He nodded. "Minister Bagnold, how can the House of Malfoy help you today?" Internally, he smirked. Subtle, real subtle. 

She batted an invisible fly. "Don't call me that, dear. Millicent, remember?" At his nod, she continued. "I've such dreadful news for you! The Wizengamot has been called, and I have been asked to step down as presider. Something about partiality. I never!" 

Malfoy nodded sympathetically, but he seethed internally. This was what happened when he put an incompetent into office. "So who is presiding then?"

"Albus Dumbledore was suggested -" 

Malfoy interrupted, scoffing. "He is the least impartial of all of them." 

Bagnold ate it all up. "I quite agree," she said indignantly. "Hmph!" 

"I'm sure it'll all be cleared up," said Malfoy. "You of all people know I am innocent." 

She nodded. "They've chosen someone from the House of Zabini...I forget his name." 

Malfoy gulped. This wasn't good at all, but he had a part to play. "Preposterous! You should appeal the decision and get yourself re-instated." 

Bagnold preened. "I should, shouldn't I?" 

Malfoy nodded. "And ask my lawyers to help you." 

Bagnold had left fairly quickly after that, but Malfoy remained standing, snapping at the guards to arrange a visitation with his lawyers. 

********

Alex woke to a blaring noise in the early morning, and he immediately jumped out of bed, ready for his day. To his surprise, he found Merlin asleep in Matt's room. He smacked himself in the head. When Merlin left, he should probably move the little boy into his own room...maybe arrange a baby alarm system as well. He resolved to do so after his classes. Quickly pulling on his clothes and taking care of everything else, he walked into the Great Hall. There was no one there, except Professor Ryan. 

"Professor Ryan!" greeted Alex. "You're early." 

"So are you," chuckled Ryan. "You should call me Kevin. None of this Professor Ryan junk except in the classroom." 

Alex nodded, and helped himself to the feast the elves had set in front of him. "So, what're you teaching today? You've got fifths in the morning today, right?" 

"Yeah," responded Ryan. "They're the worst of the lot, I think." 

Alex looked up surprised. "Isn't this their O.W.L year?" 

"They don't act like it," said Ryan with surprising bitterness. "Always goofing off, and they never pay attention." 

"Hmmm..." said Alex thoughtfully. "Then I probably shouldn't show my face in there until I teach." 

Ryan looked at him in surprise. "I thought you wanted to watch?" 

"I didn't say I wasn't going to watch," said Alex mischievously. "I'll just Disillusion myself." 

Ryan smirked. "We should probably scare the wits out of them." 

Alex had an equally impish smile on his face. "Good idea. If I see anyone misbehaving, I'll just jinx them, with say, a Cheering Charm. Or better yet, make them dance." 

Ryan nodded. "All right...but what if they ask where you are?" 

"Just tell'em I'm not coming in until next week," said Alex. "Taking care of my kid or something." Then, remembering, he asked, "You don't teach Tuesdays or Wednesdays, do you?" 

"Just the younger grades," said Ryan. "Why?"

"My Mastery tests are tomorrow and Wednesday," said Alex. "But since you don't, it should be fine." 

Ryan nodded. "Don't you already have two? Why do you need another one for?"

"Oh," said Alex. "Won't it look weird if I have Potions and Transfiguration Masteries, but not Defense?"

Ryan gaped at him. "Are you joking?"

Alex nodded, smiling impishly again. "Nope."

"You must be a freaking genius!" said Ryan. 

Alex shook his head. "Just hardworking." 

"What are you, twenty?" asked Ryan. "I'm still working on my Defense Mastery, and I'm twenty-seven. Most people don't get theirs until they're at least forty!" 

"Whoops?" Alex shrugged, then amended his earlier statement. "Must have been talent and hardwork, then." 

"I'll bet," said Ryan disbelievingly. "So, how come you don't wear the symbols of your Masteries then?" 

"Don't want to show off," said Alex. "Besides, they're awfully inconvenient when people are staring at you." 

"I suppose," said Ryan, his disbelief evident on his face. "Oh, I should go prepare for class. You wanna come?" 

"Sure," said Alex, but at that moment, was interrupted by McGonagall. "Mr. Potter!" 

Alex looked apologetically at Ryan. "Sorry, I'll catch up with you." Turning to McGonagall, he asked, "Yes, Minerva?" 

She pulled him aside. "Mr. Potter...you've received the notice for your cousins' funeral, right?" 

"Funeral?" asked Alex. "No, no one's contacted me. When is it?" 

"It's this afternoon," said McGonagall. "At Godric's Hollow...will you be going?" 

"I think so," said Alex. "Should I bring Matt...?" 

McGonagall shook her head. "It'd be better not to. I'm sure Mr. Erlin can take care of him." 

"Yeah..." mumbled Alex, shifting in his shoes. "Yeah, I'll go." 

"Meet me outside my rooms at four," said McGonagall. "Albus has already taken care of the funeral arrangements." 

"A-All right," said Alex, somewhat shaken. "I'll be there." 

McGonagall nodded. "See you there then." 

Alex left, heading towards the Defense classrooms. 

********

Snape paced in his rooms. Alex Potter had sent him into a frenzy, but he hadn't seen hide or hair of Aurors for half the morning already. Should he just run for it? On the other hand, his trial could clear him... 

A sharp knock on the door sounded. "Open up! Open up in the name of the law!" 

Snape smirked. And so the games begin. Opening the door, he asked, "And how may I help you gentlemen today?" 

The Aurors looked at him, their mouths agape. "U-uh..." 

"Intelligent," drawled Snape. "Now, desist from wasting my time. Time, after all, is precious. My time especially." He paused, observing the dumbfounded Aurors. "Nothing? Good day, gentlemen." He moved to close the door, but was stopped by a beefy hand. 

"Now see here, bloke," said one Auror. "We've got your arrest warrant here." 

"Oh, really," said Snape, elongating the syllables. "And the charges?" 

"Treason and being a Death Eater," said the Auror self-importantly. 

Snape looked at him with a mock disbelieving look. "Very well." He held up his hands, and when the Aurors did nothing, he snapped, "What are you waiting for? Or have you changed your minds?" Snape sighed. "Or do I have to teach you to do your job?" 

"No, sir!" shouted a younger Auror, who was promptly cuffed on the head. "I mean, no, of course not. We know what we're doing." 

"Then show me, and stop wasting my time," said Snape, holding his hands up again. 

Finally, the Aurors snapped to attention, and the particularly large Auror roughly snapped the cuffs on to his hands, causing Snape to wince.  "Your wand, Mr. Snape?" 

"On my kitchen table," said Snape. "I trust you'll convey to the authorities that I've been quite cooperative?" 

"Of course," said the young Auror again, but this time no one objected. They marched out of the his apartment, and Apparated. 

When they got to the Ministry, he was escorted to a Ministry holding cell, where the cuffs were taking off. Rubbing his wrists, he said to the same Auror escorting him, "Incidentally, do you know when my trial will be?" 

"No, sorry, Mr. Snape," said the Auror apologetically. "And about earlier...Normally when we arrest Death Eaters, they resist. You just surprised us." 

"Then you'll be happy to know I'm not one," said Snape. 

"But Karkaroff said..." 

"You can look at my arm, if you like," said Snape, who rolled up both his sleeves. The Auror gasped. "So...you're not a Death Eater?" 

"I believe the answer is redundant," said Snape. "Now, would you please find out the time of my trial for me? I would like to owl my solicitor." He didn't have one, but he was sure Dumbledore would like to know. 

"Yes, sir!" said the Auror. "I'll get right to it, sir!" 

Moments later, he returned, saying that his trial would be later the very same morning, at 11. Snape nodded his thanks, and began composing a letter to Dumbledore, and on an impulse, sent one to Alex Potter as well. Finishing, he carefully sat down on the filthy cot (which looked like something had died on it) and began to meditate. It was nine ‘o' clock now...he would have to take the Veritaserum-suppressor at ten.

********

Dumbledore was working on last-minute arrangements for the funeral when a Ministry owl flew into his office, barreling in at a speed unimaginable in a normal owl. "Well, hello there," said Dumbledore, feeding the owl a treat. "What do we have here?" 

He opened the letter in the owl's grasp, and the owl zoomed off. Had he been paying attention, he would have seen the owl heading to the Defense classroom. As it was, he was quite preoccupied with the letter, and with each line, his frown deepened. Musing, he placed the letter on his desk. He knew that this day had been soon in coming, but not this early. And Severus had only been arrested that morning! He shook his head. There was something very off about this. 

Down in the classroom, Alex and Ryan had been having the time of their lives pranking the students.  The first student to make fun of Ryan had found himself dangling in the air, courtesy of Alex's Winguardium Leviosa. A second student who had been about to throw a dungbomb found himself holding slugs, and he couldn't stop laughing. From there, the class had been relatively quiet - that is, until an owl barreled towards their classroom. Alex gulped, betting it was his. He quickly ran out of the room (thankfully, the door was already open), and rushed into an empty classroom. 

"Woah," exclaimed Alex. "Slow down!" 

The owl extended the letter towards him, and flapped its wings at Alex. "You want to get paid?" More agitated motion. "You want something to eat?" The owl began flapping harder. Then, Alex realized the problem. It was Dumbledore's Lemon Drop. Alex laughed. "You want me to unstick your beak?" As soon as he banished the hated lemon monstrosity, the owl hooted indignantly and left. 

Alex looked at the letter in his hand. "So what do we have here?" He frowned when he saw the Ministry seal. "Odd, what does the Ministry want with me?" 

Opening it, he scanned the letter quickly. "Snape's trial already? I thought it was going to take a week!" 

He quickly checked the time. It was almost ten thirty. Would he make it in time? Swiftly, he made his way back to the Defense classroom, and knocked. "Come in," came the call. 

"Professor Ryan, I'll be unable to observe your class today," said Alex. "Something's come up." I'm sorry, will you be all right? 

"That's fine," said Ryan, smiling. "I'll see you later, Professor Potter." 

"Yeah," said Alex, and proceeded to run all the way to the gates of Hogwarts.  From there, he disApparated to the English Ministry of Magic. This would be tricky. 

********

At ten, Snape poured all the contents of the vial into his throat. At ten-fifteen, he had been stripped down - which was quite humiliating - and his pain potions had all been confiscated. After dressing, his hands had been shackled again, and he had been brought out and led down into the lower chambers of the Ministry. 

Outside Courtroom Ten, he could hear the bustle and the movements of the Wizengamot inside. Merlin, where they loud! He winced. These were the people who would judge him. He shuddered. Crouch Sr. would be inside. It was funny, he mused, he would have thought Crouch would have been ousted out already, what with the controversy surrounding his son. Abruptly, he was pushed into the room, where he was escorted into the courtroom, to the very menacing chair in the centre. His shackles were taken off, and he was chained to the chair. He looked up, and breathed an internal sigh of relief. Dumbledore and Potter were here. As much as his atonement pushed him to just accept Azkaban, his self-preservation indicated otherwise. 

Alex smiled at him, and winked. Snape almost laughed aloud, but managed to maintain his normal stoic face just in time. Dumbledore was conferring with the people around him, probably trying to sway people's opinions. He would be surprised. 

Suddenly, the Judge at the front slammed his gavel. "Order!" 

The courtroom stilled. The Judge addressed Crouch, "Mr. Crouch, what are the accusations against the defendant?" 

Mr. Crouch stood. "Treason, participation in the terrorist group: the Death Eaters, and murder of the Minister of Magic, your Honour." 

"Thank you," said the Judge. "Mr. Snape, how do you plead?" 

"Not guilty on all charges," said Snape. 

"Very well," said the Judge. "At this time, do you have a solicitor?" 

"N -" Snape started to say. 

"Yes, he does," interjected Alex, running down the stairs down to the defense table. "Sorry I'm late, your Honour."

"And you are?" asked the Judge, raising his eyebrow.

Alex reached into his pockets and came up with his papers. Merlin had managed to whip them up - just in time, which was why Alex hadn't been on the main floor in the first place. "Alexandre Potter, sir," and showed his identification papers and license. 

The judge perused the papers. "These look to be in order, Mr. Potter. Please do not be late again in my courts." He turned towards Crouch. "Mr. Crouch, you may begin." 

Crouch paced dramatically. "In 1978, Severus Snape received his Death Mark, joining the Death Eaters. He participated in multiple terrorist attacks, one of which killed our late Minister of Magic, Howard Randall." He paused. "As well, Igor Karkaroff has attested under Veritaserum that Snape is indeed a Death Eater, and that he was a part of You-Know-Who's Inner Circle." 

Gasps could be heard in the courtroom. And then mutterings, and finally, accusations. Snape remained calm, as did Alex. 

The Judge frowned. "Mr. Crouch, what evidence do you have?" 

"A known Death Eater gave him away!" cried Crouch. 

The Judge shook his head. "I'm not sure that's enough, Mr. Crouch. Do you have any witnesses?" 

Crouch paled. "We could bring in the other Death Eaters..." 

"Then do so," said the Judge. "I am not convicting an innocent man based on one man's claim." 

Crouch whispered to the closest Aurors who rushed out of the room. In minutes, they were back with Bellatrix Lestrange. Crouch cleared his throat. "The prosecution moves to present Bellatrix Lestrange as its witness." 

The judge nodded. "You may begin." 

Crouch, surly now, turned to Lestrange. "State your name and...occupation for the record." 

Lestrange smiled ferally. "Bellatrix Lestrange, follower of the Dark Lord." 

"Thank you," said Crouch, who didn't look thankful at all. "Now, Ms. Lestrange. Is Severus Snape a Death Eater?" 

Bellatrix smiled again. "Why do you need to know? Don't you know how to do your job?" 

Alex had to stifle a laugh. 

The Judge barked, "You will contain your witness, Mr. Crouch!" 

Crouch paled. "Ms. Lestrange, answer the question." 

She nodded, and then cackled, already showing the signs of a chronic Azkaban inmate. Crouch frowned. "State your answer verbally, please."  

"Severus Snape was a Death Eater," said Lestrange, bored. "Are we done? I just can't wait to go back to Azkaban." 

Crouch, not known for his patience, snarled, "Get her out of here!" 

The Aurors hauled Lestrange out, and Crouch smiled. "There you have it, folks, Snape there is a Death Eater." 

"Objection!" exclaimed Alex, jumping to his feet. 

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" asked the Judge. 

"The Wizengamot must form their own opinions, and not those of Mr. Crouch's, your Honour," said Alex. 

"Sustained," the Judge answered. "The Wizengamot, please disregard Mr. Crouch's previous statement." 

Crouch turned red. "Y-you -" 

Snape had to admit he liked this. Alex decided to continue. "Your Honour, may the defense present its case?" 

"You may begin, Mr. Potter," said the Judge. 

Crouch muttered something, but Alex disregarded it. "In 1978, Severus Snape did indeed join the Death Eaters -" The crowd rose in an uproar.  

The Judge hammered the gavel several times. "Order! I will have order in my courtroom!" 

The crowd quieted. Alex smiled. "But is not a Death Eater himself." 

The Judge frowned. "How is this possible?" 

"Simple," shrugged Alex. "He was a spy." 

"Objection!" cried Crouch. "Where is your evidence?" 

"That too, is also simple," said Alex. "I would like to call Albus Dumbledore to the stand." 

Dumbledore looked surprised, but he walked to the witness stand. Alex paced in his narrow strip of floor. "Headmaster, please state your name and occupation for the record." 

Dumbledore folded his hands. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Mugwump of the Wizengamot."

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Alex. "Now, can I ask how you know the accused?"

"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "He approached me at the end of '78, with an offer to become the spy within the Death Eater ranks."

"And how were you certain you could trust him?" asked Alex.

"He willingly submitted to Veritaserum, of course," said Dumbledore.

"Continue please," said Alex.

"From there, he and I slowly worked to place him within the Inner Circle," said Dumbledore. "Many of the attacks the DMLE stopped were thanks to this man."

Alex nodded. "Your Honour, I would like to present Documents 1 and 2 to support this statement."

The Judge nodded, and looked through the documents Alex had given him. "This looks to be in order."

Crouch jumped to his feet. "Why hasn't the defense presented them before?"

Alex turned to him. "As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, naturally I thought that you would have no need for these. After all, you should be well acquainted with them on a daily basis. Document 2 was signed by you, after all."

Crouch blushed a deep scarlet, and sat down, not knowing what else to say.

Alex again began his line of questioning. "Headmaster, on the night of the late Howard Randall's murder, can you attest to where Mr. Snape was?" 

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Yes, indeed I can. I was in my office at Hogwarts, perusing some documents, when Severus Floo'd into my office. He came to alert me to the attack on the Minister. He told me himself that Voldemort did not want him there (for what reason, I'm not quite sure). When I arrived at the scene of the crime, the Minister was still alive. In fact, we caught several Death Eaters that day. Unfortunately, the Minister died of his wounds only minutes after we arrived. After the incident, and carefully filing the report, I Floo'd back to my office, where Severus waited for me." 

"Can you account for where he was the entire time you were gone from your office?" persisted Alex. 

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I can. You see, in my office, I have installed several memory lens, which record everything a visitor in my office does." 

"Can they be in any shape or form duplicated?" asked Alex. 

"No, I don't believe so," said Dumbledore. "They can only be used once. Any attempt to duplicate the memory or falsify it would destroy it." 

"The defense would like to present Exhibition 1," said Alex. "If I may?"  

"Approach," said the Judge, and quickly verified it. "Is there some way we may see it?" 

Dumbledore sighed blissfully. "This was one of the pieces I did when I did my Transfigurations Mastery, actually. Since then, I have drastically improved it. My most recent of these improvements was to project the contents of this lens onto a greater surface." He said something in Gaelic (or what sounded like Gaelic, anyways), and the memory projected itself onto the blank white wall. "I can also adjust the speed of the clip - or we'll have to watch all five hours of this." 

The lens showed Snape sitting, napping, reading, and pacing. Not once until Dumbledore came back into the memory did Snape leave. 

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Alex. "Your Honour, I am finished with the witness." 

"Very well," said the Judge. "Now, Mr. Crouch, you may begin your cross-examination." 

"Thank you, your Honour," said Crouch, pacing. "Now, Mr. Dumbledore, are you sure that Mr. Snape over there wasn't really a Death Eater? That you, the great symbol of Light, was mistaken and deceived?"

"Objection!" exclaimed Alex. "Badgering the witness." 

"Sustained," said the Judge. "Mr. Crouch, please mind your words."

Crouch grunted. "I'll amend that. Mr. Dumbledore, how can you be certain that Mr. Snape wasn't spying on you instead?"

"Objection!" exclaimed Alex. "Leading the witness."

The Judge shook his head. "No, it's a valid question. Overruled."

Alex sat back down, and Dumbledore answered. "I mentioned earlier that I used Veritaserum. He answered my questions clearly and without pause. If you like, I can give you my memory of that night..."

"No, it's all right," said Crouch, clearly disgruntled. "No more questions."

He turned, and walked back to his table. The Judge asked the both of them, "Do you have any other witnesses?"

Alex shook his head. "Not at this time, your Honour." Crouch just nodded.

"Then we will begin with the examination of the accused," said the Judge. "You may begin first, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you," said Alex, and then abruptly turned back to the Judge. "May we administer Veritaserum? My client would like to prove his innocence without any qualms." 

"Excellent idea," said the Judge. "Mr. Crouch, could you supply us with Veritaserum?" 

Crouch's eyes gleamed, and he quickly called an Auror to him. Taking the vial, he handed it to the Judge, who passed it onto Alex. "Mr. Potter, would you like to take a look at this?" 

"Yes, please," said Alex, who inspected it. "Yes, this is a Ministry-standard potion." He handed the vial to the Auror, who brutally poured it down Snape's throat. "I'm done, guv'nor." 

"Thank you," said the Judge distastefully. "Mr. Potter, you may begin."  

Alex turned to Snape. "Please state your name and occupation." 

In a monotone voice, Snape began. "Severus Tobias Snape, Potions Master." Alex had to give him  credit; Snape showed all the signs of being under Veritaserum. Alex continued, "The prosecution has accused you of being a Death Eater. Is this true?" 

"No," said Snape. "I serve only the Light."

"Objection!" said Crouch. "This is irrelevant. If he bears the Dark Mark, then he is a Death Eater. Roll up his sleeve so we can convict him!" 

"You can't read a book by its cover," argued Alex. "It's a known fact that he was a spy!" 

"Overruled," said the Judge. "Mr. Crouch, you are allowed to cross-examine later. Please keep your comments to yourself." He turned to Alex. "Please continue." 

"While spying, what were you required to do?" asked Alex. 

"The Dark Lord required me to brew potions to heal the Death Eaters, as well as several other potions," said Snape, then muttered, "...and beauty potions for himself." 

The crowd laughed uproariously. The Judge could barely contain himself, and he too quirked a smile. In a few moments, they were stilled again. "So did you commit any acts of murder, vandalism, or terrorism?" 

"No," said Snape. "I persuaded the Dark Lord that were I to take part in their revelry, I would no longer be able to make potions for him." 

"No further questions, your Honour," said Alex, sitting down again. 

"Very well, Mr. Potter," said the Judge. "Mr. Crouch, you may begin your cross-examination." 

Crouch nodded. "Do you bear the Dark Mark?" 

"No," said Snape. 

Crouch reddened. "Are you sure? Aren't all followers required to bear a mark?" 

"Yes," said Snape. "But through a pure, wild magic ritual, the Dark Mark was cleansed off of me."

"Couldn't this ritual be used on any other Death Eater?" asked Crouch, seeing his chance. "Anyone could claim not to be a Death Eater if they used this ritual -"

"No," said Snape firmly. "This ritual entails only the intentions of the Marked's heart. If they in themselves have selfish intentions, and only to harm, they would be killed."

"Can anyone verify your claim?" asked Crouch.

"Yes," said Snape, but he didn't continue.

"What's their name?" persisted Crouch.

"Alexandre Potter," said Snape, and pointed to Alex. "Over there."

Foiled! Alex gulped. How would he explain it? "Then I call Alexandre Potter to the stand," said Crouch, smiling maliciously.

Alex walked slowly to the witness box, and sat down.

"Please state your name," said Crouch. "And occupation."

"Alexandre Matthieu Potter," said Alex solemnly. "Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, Captain and Sub-Head in le Section de la Police de Magie de France, Potions and Transfigurations Master."

Crouch gulped. "Y-you're the one they sent over from France!"

Alex nodded. "Yes, I am."

Quickly regaining himself, Crouch continued, "And this ritual...what does it entail?"

"Like Mr. Snape said, this ritual only works on those who possess good intent," said Alex, shrugging. "And it's impossible for anyone else but me to make, as I am the creator of this particular potion. I've only ever made it for Mr. Snape, as my affinity for wild magic indicated to me, that for all intents and purposes, he is a good person."

"Define ‘good'," said Crouch.

"Hmm..." said Alex. "Well, can I give you an example?" At Crouch's nod, he continued. "For you, you have a semi-grey aura. I think it's because although your actions are good, your intent is not. You seem a bit misguided..." When Alex looked at Crouch, and saw that he was rapidly turning purple, Alex quickly continued before Crouch could explode. "Snape is different. Though he has done several regretful things, his intent is pure and honest." 

"Very well," said Crouch. "But what makes you think you're the only one who can brew it? Could someone else not have stolen the formula and done it?"

"Well, for one," said Alex. "My notes are all in French. Granted, someone who could read French would be able to do it, but the other requirement would render the task impossible and incomplete, as I am possibly the only person on this planet currently who has an affinity for wild magic." 

"And you would say the same thing under Veritaserum?" asked Crouch, a bit skeptical. 

"Yes," said Alex firmly. "And if you still don't believe me, you could always ask Albus Dumbledore over there. I defeated the curse over the Defense position at Hogwarts." Among other things. 

"Thank you," said Crouch, a bit disgruntled. 

"You may step down, Mr. Potter," said the Judge. 

Crouch began his cross-examination of Snape again (the Wizarding World seemed a bit chaotic to Alex...but that was just his opinion. It seemed as if there were no set rules and regulations in the courtroom). "Mr. Snape, you said that you had imbibed this potion, but we have not seen if your Dark Mark has truly disappeared. Do you mind showing us?" 

Snape shook his head, and a nearby Auror rolled up both sleeves. Of course, they were bare. Gasps broke out in the courtroom (really, were they that surprised?), and the Judge had to call for order again. 

"Mr. Crouch, do you have any more questions?" asked the Judge. At Crouch's shake of his head, the Judge announced, "We will be taking a ten minute recess, after which the Wizengamot and I will be announcing the verdict." 

********

Daily Prophet

December 14th, 1981

Severus Snape Innocent, Made War Hero!

by David Sanderson

                Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in a century, was arrested and accused of being a Death Eater two days ago. The Ministry so far has been quite on-the-target in catching these terrorists; however, it seems this streak has been broken today.

                In Mr. Snape's trial, it was revealed that he was a spy within the Death Eater ranks, and only through his work that the Ministry was able to suppress several attacks, including the attempted mass attack on Dover two years ago.

                Mr. Snape was rewarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class, and has been rewarded monetarily by the Ministry.

                As happy as the ending is, it is quite likely that without the help of his solicitor, this would not have come to light. Bartemius Crouch Sr., with his usual hard fist of justice, tried to convict this innocent man, with no thought to what Mr. Snape did in order to ensure victory on the Ministry's part. In this trial, the writer feels that Mr. Crouch has been shown to be entirely too zealous, going so far as to try to convict an innocent man, and that he may not be entirely suitable in his current role as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. (also see Bartemius Crouch Jr., D3)

                Speaking of Mr. Snape's solicitor, Alexandre Potter is the cousin of the late James Potter, who gave his life to protect his son, the Boy-Who-Lived. This man is indeed incredible, as well as a solicitor, he is also a sub-head in the French DMLE, the newest professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and Potions and Transfigurations Master. He is also rumoured to be taking the test for the Defense Mastery soon. Mr. Potter is also a single man with a young son, who is almost two, according to a source in Hogwarts. The Wizarding World may indeed have much to thank this young man, who concluded the trial with this, "Those who look guilty may not always be so. We must take care never to judge a book by its cover...today's trial was a result of one individual who refused to submit to the pressure of his peers...In order for the Wizarding World to succeed, we must be ready for change. We must eliminate our biases and approach our new chance at re-starting our lives with this: be wary of old biases, and be open-minded. Without such outlook, we may again be faced with sending innocents to prison, or Merlin forbid, another Dark Lord on the rise..." Mr. Potter also went on to say that perhaps a reconstruction of the Ministry may be necessary.

Mr. Snape, Mr. Crouch, and Mr. Dumbledore were unavailable for comment.

                Tomorrow, Mr. Lucius Malfoy will be tried as a Death Eater. The trial will not be opened to public, but this writer will endeavour to report upon it as soon as possible. If there are any questions, please owl the writer at the Daily Prophet. Howlers will be disposed of.

********

Albus Dumbledore was frustrated. No, perhaps that wasn't the best word. He was irritated, angry, confused...the list went on and on and on. What was Alexandre Potter doing? If Voldemort was coming back - which Alex Potter had agreed with - then he would need Severus as his spy in within the Death Eater ranks! Now with even his Dark Mark gone, there was no possible way for him to do so.

And to add insult to injury, it seemed as if Alex Potter knew everything. Even things he had taken a great deal of time to have concealed. It was quite unnerving. Was he really getting feeble in his old age? He shook his head, and at that moment, his phoenix, Fawkes, hopped down from his perch onto his desk.  

And whacked him.

"Dear Merlin!" cried out Dumbledore, clutching his head. "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you, Fawkes?"

Fawkes looked at him disdainfully, as if to say, you know full well what is wrong, and it's not me.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I don't suppose you're telling me to trust Mr. Potter?"

The phoenix didn't answer, but looked at the old man condescendingly. Dumbledore shook his head, lost in thought. "And you believe this?"

Fawkes trilled, and flew out the window. Seeing the magnificent bird enjoying himself, Dumbledore quietly spoke out loud to himself, "Perhaps it's time to let go of old habits, isn't that right, old friend?" He paused and shifted in his seat, before deciding to seek out the enigmatic Mr. Potter. Exiting his office, he paused to greet several people, before bumping into Severus Snape. "Why, hello there, my boy," said Dumbledore cheerily. "I trust you are settling in well?"

Snape gave a non-committal nod. "Yes, Headmaster. The lodgings are...appropriate."

"That's good, Severus," said Dumbledore. "Do you by any chance know where Mr. Potter is?" 

Snape looked at him, before answering, "I believe he's outside flying with his son." 

"Thank you, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "I'll be seeing you around, then." 

"Very well," nodded Severus, and he walked away, leaving Dumbledore continue on his little journey. Soon, he had reached the Quidditch Pitch, where he could see Alexandre Potter holding on tightly to his son, with only one hand on the broom. Thankfully for Dumbledore's heart, they weren't flying very high, which was just as well. "Alex!" 

The two figures on the broomstick waved back at him, and headed towards his direction, landing just inches away. "Yes, Headmaster?" 

"I just wanted to congratulate you on your excellent job in the courtroom," said Dumbledore. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone defend so eloquently. Are you and Severus acquainted?" 

"Relatively," shrugged Alex as he hoisted little Matt on to his shoulder. "Professor Slughorn introduced us. Besides, I wanted justice done." 

"Ah, I see," nodded Dumbledore. "And he didn't object to you?" 

"No," said Alex, frowning. "Should he?" 

"Ah, well, Severus and your cousin...weren't on the best of terms," said Dumbledore delicately. "I'm afraid Severus rather hates your surname, actually." 

"Oh," said Alex. "I didn't know that. Maybe I should ask him, then." 

Dumbledore waved the suggestion aside. "It's of no consequence, my boy." 

"All right, then," said Alex, but fuming inside. Really? Bullying was of "no consequence"? Or maybe he was trying to hide things again..."So, Headmaster, I heard Malfoy's going on trial tomorrow. Are you going?" 

"Of course," said Dumbledore. "It is my duty as Chief Mugwump. The true question is: are you going?" 

"I don't know," said Alex, shrugging. "I might, I might not. But I hope Malfoy gets convicted. He's too dangerous to be left on the streets." 

"I agree," said Dumbledore. "Perhaps I could ask the DMLE to hire you for the day?" 

"Well," said Alex, biting his lip. "My Defense Mastery exam is Tuesday afternoon and all of Wednesday. Malfoy, being as influential as he is, will probably have a long trial...so I'll be unable to." 

Dumbledore looked troubled. "I see...well, I suppose it can't hurt to try, can it?" 

Alex shrugged. "You're welcome to try to change it, but it was almost impossible to book a time this week."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Shall I see you at dinner, then?"

"Umm..." said Alex. "I was planning on going to The Three Broomsticks tonight with Severus and Kevin." 

"Enjoy yourself, then," said the old man. "If you ever want to talk, my office is open."

Dumbledore left the pitch even more confused than he had before. If the man was so concerned about justice, why wouldn't he accept the position of prosecutor? 

********

Dumbledore had seemed abnormally surprised when  Alex showed up at the funeral. Really, why wouldn't he be there? After all, he was a Potter. McGonagall moved over and greeted him. "Thank you for coming, Alexandre."

Alex nodded. "I-I thought it would be best if I did," he said softly. "Did you know them well?" 

McGonagall dabbed her handkerchief to wipe away her tears. "I was their Head of House for eleven years, and we worked together after they graduated. Lily and James were both like my children..." 

"My condolences," said Alex, deeply uncomfortable. Even in this life he didn't know his own family well at all. "I-I wish...I had known them." 

"You would've loved them," said McGonagall, tears welling up again.

"Yeah," said Alex. "I think so too." 

Alex stood respectfully near the front, watching as people after people made their speeches about his parents. Some, he knew, like Remus and Kingsley, others were new, like Mary MacDonald. But each speech brought something precious to Alex: with each word, he was brought closer to knowing the parents he had now forever lost. At the beginning of the funeral, everyone had been in tears, but as stories of the Marauders were brought out, there were tears - not from sorrow, but overflowing from laughter. 

McGonagall inched her way back to him. "I suppose this is the way they would've have wanted to be remembered," she said fondly. "James had always been such a prankster." 

A low baritone voice behind him agreed. "Lily would have enjoyed this."  

"Severus," greeted Alex. "I didn't know..." 

"Yes, well," said Severus, but he didn't continue.

After several long minutes, Albus Dumbledore concluded the funeral reminding the people left behind of their heroic actions, and cautioned them to live up to the legacies of the Potters. When he finished, the coffins were lowered into the ground, and around the plots rose up little flames. When Alex left, they were still burning, a bright contrast to the black and dismal night. 

********

That night, Alex was preparing for bed when a little tap came from the window. He frowned. Who would be owling him this late at night? Taking the letter gently from the owl, he quickly fed him and then opened the letter. 

Dear Mr. Potter,

                I would like to congratulate you on your success today. Seeing your excellent record, as well as a recommendation from Albus Dumbledore himself, we at the DMLE would like to extend a temporary position as primary prosecutor against all Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy. We are aware of your previous appointment, and have already arranged another date for your exam. If you are willing, please meet me at my office in the DMLE tonight, before eleven. Burn this note after you read it.

Sincerely yours,

       Bartemius Crouch

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

What in the world? What was Dumbledore up to? He thought he had made it abundantly clear that he hadn't wanted to show up visibly at the trial. He sat down, and looked over the note. Well, there were two hours before eleven. 

He had already started his war on Malfoy; why not just finish it? With luck, he could get Malfoy the Dementor's Kiss...what a thought. Slowly, he began to weigh the pros and the cons. With Malfoy out of the way, Voldemort's key funding was cut off. Without Malfoy, the younger Malfoy would perhaps never be tempted to turn "astray", especially if there was a positive influence in his life. Fudge would never become Minister. The world seemed brighter without him. But still...getting rid of Malfoy would be opening a power vacuum. That would mean someone he could trust needed to step into it, but there was no one at the moment, except for Alex himself. And Dumbledore, but Alex knew he didn't want it. And he knew that the only other choice was to install a puppet he could control...but that made him no better than Malfoy. Was Malfoy a necessary evil? 

Lost in thought, moments ticked by. By ten-thirty, he was no closer to a decision than he had been at nine. He trudged to Merlin's room, and quickly told the man he would be out for a while. He immediately set out to the Ministry. He could decide later; if necessary, he could throw the trial, or make concessions. For now, though, he needed to talk to the Head of the DMLE.  

He rapidly made his way to the Floo, and called out his destination. In a few moments' time, he was out of Hogwarts, and in front of the Ministry of Magic. The streets behind him were still and quiet, with only an occasional yell from a drunken brawler. The lights in the street flickered once, and then one by one, they all turned off. 

Alex's senses heightened. Off to the side he could hear water dripping, one drop at a time, onto the street. He heard a faint echo of music from one of the houses on top of the businesses, and he paused. There. A little shuffle off to his left... 

Alex moved, dodging the punch thrown. "How may I help you, friend?" 

A guttural laugh, and the man threw spells at him. Unforgivables, Dark spells...but no one came out of the Ministry. Thoughts spun rapidly in Alex's mind, weighing in all the possibilities, all the while dodging the curses thrown at him. "Do you do nothing but run?" 

Alex laughed disarmingly. "I don't like hurting people." 

"You've killed my son, my wife. You've destroyed my career. What more do I have?" the man moaned, deranged as he sounded. "And you embarrassed me. A Frenchie!" The man paused from attacking. "But it matters not. You will die tonight...and no one will ever know." 

"Mon Dieu!" Alex mock-exclaimed. "You're Crouch Senior!" 

"Give one point to the boy," sneered Crouch. "Now come. I would like to finish this before the next shift begins." 

"Why should I?" asked Alex, and tried to disapparate. 

"My dear boy," drawled Crouch. "Surely I am more intelligent than that. Anti-Apparation Wards come to mind? Portkeys, Dark Magic detectors...they're all down." 

"Well, then," said Alex, a feral grin lighting his face. "Let the games begin." 

Crouch threw a barrage of spells at him, and Alex rolled, dodging them in time. "That all you can do, Crouch? Use the same curses you've denounced? Show you're a big man?"  

Crouch snarled. "I was an Auror for nigh on thirty years." 

"What'd you do the last twenty?" taunted Alex. "Sit at a desk, gaining a potbelly?" Then, the Crouch's first words hit him. "What d'ya mean, your son?" 

"There's only one Frenchman on English soil," said Crouch. "It wasn't hard to connect the dots, Matthieu Rousseau." 

Alex shrugged. "You're not the only one who's figured out. By the way, your wife isn't dead, is she?" 

Crouch fingered his wand. "Dead men don't talk, do they?" He smiled. "She was dying...she wanted little Barty out so badly, so we Polyjuiced her. She's dead, now. Barty ‘took sick quickly and died', is the official line. As for my son, he's comatose and he won't ever be a functional member of society ever again. They're dead, and it's ALL YOUR BLEEDING FAULT!" 

With a roar, he launched himself at Alex. Alex dodged, throwing up his arms to block the punch, and then quickly retaliated with a kick. For a sixty year old man, Crouch was still incredibly spry and quick. He dodged, and threw a roundhouse punch. Alex saw his chance, ducked, and rammed the man's stomach with his own punch. Without giving the man time to breathe, Alex wandlessly and soundlessly bound the man, and trudged into the Ministry. 

"Sir?" a woman scurried to the front. "I-Is t-that M-Mister C-Crouch?" 

"He attacked me," said Alex grimly. "I would like to have charges brought against him...and have him arrested." 

"B-But you can't do that!" exclaimed the woman. "H-He's the H-Hea -" 

"He admitted to aiding a criminal's escape, and contributing to his wife's death," said Alex, frowning. "So I suggest you get Rufus Scrimgeour or whoever it is down here and finish the job. I'm not leaving until I file every single copy of my memory of tonight into the evidence vault." He looked at her intently. "So, are you going to call them, or shall I?" 

"Y-yes, s-sir, r-right a-away, sir," said the woman, and scurried behind her booth. Within seconds, Aurors had rushed out, with their wands trained on Alex. 

"Put your wand down, and let go of our boss!" It was Blair again. 

"Blair!" greeted Alex. "And we meet again!" 

"Who are you?" asked the Auror suspiciously. "And put down your wand!" 

"Matthieu Rousseau, also known as Alexandre Potter? Ring a bell?" asked Alex. "And no, my wand is fine where it is." 

"Wait..." Blair indicated to the other Aurors to hold off. "What're you doing with Crouch then?" 

"He asked me to rendezvous with him, and I had just arrived outside the building when he attacked me," said Alex. "I want to file charges against him, and I'm going to give you copies of my memories tonight, whether you want them or not." 

Blair indicated to a younger Auror to take Crouch, and he dismissed all the other Aurors, except for young Conrad. "Why were you meeting with him tonight?" 

Alex reached into his pocket and took out the note from Crouch. "Here," said Alex. "He wanted me to meet him to see if I could be prosecutor for tomorrow's case." 

The Auror took it, and told Conrad to file it away in the evidence folder. Soon, Alex had also given all his memories of that night, and was dismissed. On his way out though, he bumped into a very familiar person, someone too familiar for comfort. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

"Mr. Potter, may I have a word?" asked Shacklebolt politely, but his tone brooked no argument. Internally sighing, Alex stepped aside. 

"Yes? How may I help you?" asked Alex, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture. He had always felt like a child around this man, despite the fact that they were less than ten years apart now. 

Shacklebolt smiled. "Yes, well, with all your evidence, Mr. Crouch has a long stay waiting for him in Azkaban. However...we are now missing a prosecutor, and we would like to convey to you that Mr. Crouch's offer still stands. Amelia Bones - our new Head - and Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror, have agreed, seeing as they witnessed your spectacular performance today. As in the terms, Crouch has moved your examination date to Thursday and Friday already...so I would accept, if I were you." If only to take Death Eaters off the street. 

Alex nodded. "All right...Could I see the evidence you have against Malfoy?" 

"We only have Karkaroff's testimony," said Shacklebolt. 

"Then you have no hope of convicting him," said Alex, his eyes narrowing. "Raid Malfoy Manor tonight. Check the drawing room...according to sources I gathered, there's a secret chamber underneath the drawing room filled with Dark Artefacts. I want all Malfoys' lawyers' accounts checked...they may be bribing people in the Wizengamot." 

"How do you know all of this?" asked Shacklebolt, amazed. 

"I was in charge of gathering information on Death Eaters and Voldemort back in France," said Alex dismissively. "Fenrir Greyback is still being kept in one of our prisons."

"That's where he disappeared off to..." said Shacklebolt. "I'll finish everything tonight - err, today - before the trial. I'll meet you here at seven, all right?"

"Crystal," said Alex, then saw Shacklebolt's puzzled look. "Sorry, it's a Muggle thing. Means...I understand perfectly." 

"Ah," said Shacklebolt. "Goodnight, then." 

"Good luck," said Alex. "And check Malfoy for accounts in France. His family's originally from there." 

"We've got it," said Shacklebolt. "Goodbye." 

"Bye," said Alex, and he walked out of the Ministry, eager to catch several hours of rest before the fate of the world twisted upside down - again.

********

Alex woke up bright and early, throwing on his best robes, and ran out the door. Then he ran back in, quickly writing a note to Merlin, and he rushed back out again. Destination? The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

"'Morning!" said a cheery Shacklebolt, who was sipping delicately on his coffee. "You were right, by the way." 

"About what?" asked Alex, startled. 

"About everything," said Shacklebolt. "We've even owled all the people who have taken Malfoy's money. If they have any common sense, they'll be staying home today." He paused, and took another sip. "Mrs. Malfoy was also very helpful. Though I've heard she'll be Ms. Black again, from the way the rumours are going around..." 

Alex nodded. "What did you do about the bank account?" 

"We're going to freeze it just after the trial," said Kingsley, his white teeth flashing in direct contrast to his ebony skin. "As to not tip off his lawyers."

"Good," said Alex. "What time does this thing start?" 

"In about forty-five minutes," said Shacklebolt. It was about 7:45 at the moment; Alex still needed to file things appropriately and work out his arguments.

7:55. Alex had gone through all the evidence. 

8:10. He filed them away, labeling them in his file and in his mind. 

8:20. Alex walked down with Shacklebolt and Amelia Bones to Courtroom Ten. Settling down at the table prepared for him, he carefully laid out everything in the appropriate order. Following that, he presented his credentials to the same Judge as the day before, who looked back at him with a twinkle in his eye. As he headed back, he caught the eyes of Malfoy's lawyers, and nodded. They smirked back at him - in that hateful, arrogant way. Pride comes before a fall...or so the saying goes. Alex was going to prove that today. Behind him, he could hear the chatter of the Wizengamot. He smiled. 

8:30. It was time to begin: to chaos, to justice, to order. 

"Order! Order!" The Judge's gavel landed once, then twice. As the Wizengamot calmed, the Judge called out, "Bring forth the defendant."  

Lucius Malfoy looked unruffled, but with a sense of self-indignation. He was dressed in his normal clothes, but shackled, nonetheless. Good, Shacklebolt had pulled through then. It was time the arrogant sod learned his real position in life. The crowd began murmuring began, when they saw Malfoy chained to the chair. 

"Your Honour!" cried out the defense. "I must object to this indignation my -" 

The Judge looked at them sternly. "All are tried equally under the law. To give your client less would indicate favouritism, or perhaps even corruption. Is that what you are trying to imply?" 

"N-No, Your Honour," came the reply, not as haughtily as they had been before. 

"Very well," said the Judge. "Mr. Beck and Mr. Grey, please refrain from such comments." He paused. "Now, Mr. Potter, what are the charges brought against the defendant?" 

"Treason, participation in the terrorist group: the Death Eaters (whereby being he is a follower of the fallen Dark Lord, Voldemort), genocide, extortion, bribery, and first-degree murder of the previous Minister of Magic, your Hon -" 

"Your Honour, might I add on to that?" came a smooth voice behind him. Alex turned around, frowning. Who was this woman? 

"Is there any relevance to this case?" asked the Judge. 

"Yes," said the woman. "If I may talk to Mr. Potter?" 

"Very well," said the Judge. 

The woman proffered her hand, and Alex took it. "Diane March, it's nice to meet you." 

"Alexandre Potter," returned Alex. "But you can call me Alex. How may I help you?" 

"Diane, please. I'm Mrs. Malfoy's solicitor," said March. "I've been trying to press charges against that rat of her husband for years now for domestic abuse. This is the first opportunity we've had..." 

"Why didn't you come see me earlier this morning?" asked Alex.

"The Floo network jammed up," said March apologetically. "I'm sorry..." 

"It's all right," said Alex. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I have this," said March, taking out a rather large file. "I've documented every time that bastard hit her. He's caused her to miscarry twice now." 

Alex began flipping through the file, and gasped. "He...he did this to her?" 

March nodded grimly. "Yes. Will you help us?" 

Alex nodded affirmatively. "Stay here, on the bench. We'll need you. Can she testify?" 

"If she's given protective custody," said March. "But at this rate, she'll do anything."

"Deal," said Alex, then he walked up to the Judge, and indicated he was ready to begin. "Your Honour, the prosecution would like to amend the charges." 

"Yes?" asked the Judge. 

"The charges are as follows: treason, participation in the terrorist group: the Death Eaters and follower of the deceased Lord Voldemort, genocide, first-degree murder of the previous Minister of Magic, extortion, bribery, and domestic violence and abuse," said Alex calmly. Across the floor, he could see the defense whispering. They seemed to be losing their edge. Malfoy, on the other hand, was beginning to turn red. 

"And how does the defendant plead?" asked the Judge. "For treason?" 

"Not guilty," said Malfoy. "By reason of the Imperious Curse." 

"For participation in the terrorist group?" 

"Not guilty, by reason of Imperious." 

"For genocide?" 

"Not guilty, by reason of Imperious." 

"For the first degree murder of the previous Minister of Magic, Howard Randall?"

"Not guilty, by reason of Imperious." 

"Extortion and bribery?" 

"Not guilty, by reason of Imperious." 

"For domestic violence and abuse?" 

There was a whispered conference between the defense and their client before Malfoy finally answered, "Not guilty, by reason of self-defense." 

March gasped. "That bastard!" 

Luckily, only Alex heard it. "We'll win, don't worry." 

"You better," said March. "I'm doing this pro bono." 

"Oh, really?" asked Alex. "Mrs. Malfoy couldn't pay you?" 

"Her husband controls all her funds," said March. "But her cousin and I were close when we were at school, so he asked me to help out." 

"Oh," said Alex. 

The Judge cleared his throat. "Prosecution, you may begin." 

Alex nodded, and began. "Lucius Malfoy joined the Death Eaters in December of 1971. Since then, he has been a central figure in Voldemort's Inner Circle. Many of the various ravages of Muggles and Muggleborns have been instigated and planned by this man. He was able to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic in 1975, upon his father's recommendation, and was immediately given the title of Junior Undersecretary to the late Minister, Howard Randall. He continued to provide information, up until this very year. According to Rabastan Lestrange, who testified under Veritaserum, Mr. Malfoy was responsible for ordering the attack on Longbottom Manor, after Voldemort's death. Igor Karkaroff has done the same, as has Severus Snape. 

"As to the first-degree murder of Howard Randall, Bellatrix Lestrange - also under Veritaserum - has verified that Mr. Malfoy both planned and personally killed the late Minister. As well, he was responsible for many of those who joined the Death Eaters, through means of extortion." Alex nodded to March, who continued. "For the domestic violence and abuse claims, I have several documents to prove such claims." She walked up to the Judge, and handed him the file of the various injuries Narcissa Malfoy had suffered. 

"Thank you, Ms. March," said the Judge, who seemed to already know the woman. "Now, Mr. Potter, have you any evidence?" 

"Yes, your Honour," said Alex. "Exhibit 1 through 5 are available. Exhibit 1 details all his acts with the Death Eaters within the period of 1971 to October 31, 1981. Exhibit 2 is Malfoy's actions after October 31, 1981, Exhibit 3 details all Mr. Malfoy's actions of extortions and blackmail, Exhibit 4, his actions of bribery and his bank accounts, as well as those who received money -" Here, many people gasped, having taken money at one time or another. Alex continued, unfazed. "And Exhibit 5 is the one you just saw." 

"Very well, Mr. Potter," said the Judge. "Defense?" 

"As my client has stated earlier, these actions were committed under duress of the Imperious Curse casted by Abraxas Malfoy, and then He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named," said Beck (or maybe it was Grey). "As for the other charges...the Black temper is infamous." He shrugged. "Several times my client was obliged to defend himself from her attacks." 

"Thank you," said the Judge. "Now, Prosecution, you may call forth your first witness." 

"Yes, your Honour," said Alex. "The Prosecution would like to call upon Severus Snape as their first witness." 

Snape stepped into the witness box, looking a bit ill at ease. Alex addressed him, "Please state your name and occupation for the record." 

"Severus Tobias Snape, Potions Master, and Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Magic," said Snape. 

"Thank you, Mr. Snape," said Alex. "Now, can you tell me how you know the defendant?" 

Snape closed his eyes. "We were first acquainted in my first year, he was in his seventh...and a prefect, at that. He and I became...friends, I suppose, in some manner. He was the one who encouraged my gradual foray into the Dark Arts, and eventually was responsible for my introduction to the Dark Lord. After initiation, I began to ascend in the order of the Death Eaters, and as I did so, Lucius became more open-mouthed, and began confiding to me. I have already provided my memory of several key events, including the assassination of the late Minister, and the massacre at Dover." 

Alex stepped forward. "I would like to present Pensieved memory #32 for the Wizengamot." 

"You may proceed," said the Judge. 

Alex, using the same projecting spell Dumbledore had used, was able to show the entire memory. Many people, after seeing it, began to throw up, having witnessed the callous murders and torture of both Muggles and Muggleborns. Few in the room were unaffected. When it was over, Alex began questioning again. "Mr. Snape, what can you tell me about the occurrence at Longbottom Manor on October 31, 1981?" 

Snape clenched his hands on the chair's arms supports tightly. "We were uninformed of the Dark Lord's demise. Bellatrix Lestrange, having heard from Voldemort that Neville Longbottom was a threat to her master, decided to eliminate the boy. Lucius agreed, and devised an entry plan. They tried to persuade me into joining them, but I claimed to have a volatile potion brewing, and as such, could not join them in their fun." He spat out the last word like it was a foul taste in his mouth. "His son, Draco, had become ill, and he was unwilling to leave his heir alone." 

"Thank you," said Alex. "Did you know of his activities within the Ministry?" 

"He boasted of his deeds often," said Snape. "I believe he has the current Senior Undersecretary under the Imperius Curse. He was also responsible for the rise of Millicent Bagnold, having funded most of her platform. In addition...several families have been forced to align with Voldemort, including the Goyle family and the Nott family. Their youngest children are still being kept at Malfoy Manor, I believe." 

Alex looked enquiringly at Shacklebolt, who gave him a thumbs up. So they had already been rescued then. "They have been found already, Mr. Snape, but thank you for your forthrightness. The bank accounts of all those in question, as previously stated, can be found in Exhibit 3. Documents 2 and 3 indicate the conditions of the children of the Nott and Crabbe family, and there are others as well. No further questions, your Honour." 

Alex could practically see the defense quaking in their boots. The Judge looked the two men, and said, "You may cross-examine now, gentlemen." 

"Yes, your Honour," said Grey (or maybe it was Beck...). "Mr. Snape, you are a Death Eater, are you not?" 

"Objection!" cried out Alex. "Mr. Snape has already been cleared of all charges and has been rewarded for his service as a spy." 

"Sustained," said the Judge. "Please be more careful, Mr. Beck." 

"Yes, your Honour," said Beck. "Mr. Snape, earlier you said that you had met my client in your first year. What was he like?" 

"He was eager to use people for his own benefit," said Snape, his lips curling upwards. "Cruel, malicious...but friendly to those he felt could benefit the cause." 

The defense was clearly expecting something else. "The cause? Please elaborate." 

"Voldemort," sneered Snape. "Or should I spell it for you?" Alex could almost hear him say, dunderheads. 

"Uh..." said Grey. "No, it's quite all right." 

Beck took over. "Do you have firsthand knowledge of all that you previously spoke of?" 

Snape sneered again. "Yes, or have you not taken a look at the memories?" 

The two men gulped. "No further questions for this witness, your Honour." 

"Very well," said the Judge. "Now, Prosecution, you may call your next witness." 

"I call upon Healer Gregory Laurie of St. Mungo's," said March. Alex gave a small smile of encouragement, and March smiled - nervously - back. "Please state your name and occupation for the record." 

"Gregory Laurie, Healer at St. Mungo's, Physical Trauma Unit," said the man, who limped a bit. 

"Now, Healer Laurie, when was the first time you met Mrs. Malfoy?" asked March. 

"She was first brought in after taking several hits by her cousin, Regulus Black in mid-1974," said Laurie. "She continued to come in at irregular intervals, as much as maybe twice a week, or none at all in a month." 

"For the record, let it be known that Lucius Malfoy wedded Narcissa Black on July 5th, 1973," said March, and when the Judge had finished acknowledging her, she continued. "Can you describe the nature of these wounds?" 

"Some were nerve damaging from the Cruciatus Curse, others were direct blows to her body. She has suffered 18 broken ribs (some have been broken over and over again), broken arms, broken ankles, broken fingers, a cracked skull, bruising on her face, and has also suffered two miscarriages due to blows to the stomach," said Laurie. March turned to the Wizengamot, and Alex helped project some of the pictures of the injuries Narcissa had suffered. "Could these injuries have been caused by self-defense on the defendant's part?" 

"No, most certainly not," said Laurie. "This was done in a calculated rage. All the broken limbs would have been easily mended at home with a simple Episkey. With her fingers, they had been repeatedly broken, healed, and broken again. I have already placed her records on file, and I have informed the DMLE of these occurrences." 

March pulled the records out of Exhibit 4. "How many times has she been to see you at St. Mungo's this year?" 

Laurie looked her square in the face. "Five hundred and sixteen times." 

"Thank you, Healer Laurie," said March. "No further questions, your Honour." 

The prosecution stepped forward. "Could these injuries have been caused accidentally?" 

"No," replied Laurie. "As I said earlier, there is no possible way they were done accidentally. Before she came to me, she had had already been beaten by her husband several times, and medical scans cannot lie." 

"And what are your credentials, Healer?" sneered Grey. 

Alex could see March wanting to object, but he restrained her, laying his hand on hers. 

"I have been in the field for nigh on fifty years," said Laurie. "I am currently the Senior Healer of the Physical Trauma Unit at St. Mungo's, and will be moving up to the Board of Directors the next year." 

"Uhh...no further questions, your Honour," said the two men. 

The Judge indicated to Alex to call his witnesses, and time after time, their stories added up with each other, and they made a thoroughly strong case against Malfoy. When it came time for Narcissa's testimony, there was nary a woman in the courtroom had a dry eye, and many of them were glaring viciously at Malfoy. The men were similarly discomfited, and many seemed about ready to jump onto the floor to kill the man. 

Then came the moment of truth: Lucius Malfoy's own testimony. 

Alex immediately jumped up, and requested that Veritaserum be administered. Of course, the defense objected, and asked the Wizengamot to crush Alex's move. To their surprise, Alex was allowed to administer Malfoy his own batch of Veritaserum. Malfoy's eyes grew wide with terror, no longer able to keep his face cool and collect. Needless to say, Alex destroyed him, and the Wizengamot, in an unprecedented move, voted unanimously for the Kiss to be administered, and granted the divorce to Narcissa Malfoy, as well as the rights to the Malfoy estate.

********

"Thank you, Alex," said March. "Without your help, we couldn't have done it." 

"Don't say stupid things," said Alex, smiling. "Diane, you were amazing yourself. I'm sure you have a fantastic career ahead of you. This is just another step along the way, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, I guess," said March. "Say, let's go out and celebrate our victory tonight! The Leaky Cauldron sound good?" 

"Sure," said Alex, smiling. So she wasn't a fancy kind of girl, was she. "But I have to be back before eight. My son's waiting for me." 

"Oh...your son?" asked March. 

"My wife died earlier," said Alex. "I've been taking care of him alone...he's with a friend right now back at Hogwarts." 

"I'm so sorry," said March, horrified. "Maybe we should go to Hogsmeade instead? It would be quicker." 

"Don't worry about it," said Alex, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "But The Three Broomsticks is pretty good." 

"That sounds good," agreed March. "I haven't been there in ages." 

Arriving, Rosmerta called out a greeting. "Alex Potter!" 

"Hey, Madam Rosmerta!" said Alex. "This is Diane March. She worked with me in court today." 

"I heard you won!" said Rosmerta. "Congratulations!" 

"Thanks," said March and Alex at the same time, blushing. They seated themselves at the back, Alex remembering to act like a gentleman. They quickly ordered meals, and they talked. Turned out March was the same age as him, and had been a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. "You sure don't look like a Ravenclaw," said Alex when he heard. "More like a Gryffindor to me." 

"Nope," said March, grinning. "A ‘Claw I am, and a ‘Claw I forever shall be." 

"I see," said Alex, who picked up his Butterbeer. "Well then, to victory and friendship?" 

March seemed to falter a bit, but then she smiled. "To victory and friendship!"

They sat there for the rest of the night, unknowing of the events they had just set into motion. In the Forbidden Forest, centaurs, unicorns, and other creatures stood still, and looked up. A centaur observed, "Mars is bright tonight." And in the heights of the Divination Tower, Sybil Trelawney, with no observer but Dumbledore's lens, spoke a new Prophecy, one that would forever alter destiny. 

Many a person in Godric's Hollow shuddered that night. The half-moon was bright, and an unearthly howl had lit up the night sky hours past midnight, startling everyone surrounding the area.

Standing erect on the steps of the ruined house was a great black dog, his snout turned towards the moon. After what seemed to be an eternity, he carefully picked up the roses by his side, and tenderly laid them on the grave of the late Potters. He retreated.

Had anyone been nearby, they would have been startled to see a man suddenly pop into existence. It was Sirius Black.

He sobbed, his moans not unlike the howls his dog form had wailed minutes earlier. "Why? Why was I so stupid? W-Why - "

A man stepped behind him, and draped his arm around his shoulders, comforting him. "Shhhh..."

"Moony," Sirius acknowledged, then hiccupped. "It's all my fault!"

The man just stood there, comforting him. For the longest while, there was only silence to be heard, besides the rustling wind and the occasional shuffle from one of the nearby houses. Finally, one of the two men shifted, and the conversation picked up again.

"Moony," said Sirius. "D-Do you think they're happy up there?"

The other man shrugged. "I don't know if they're happy...but I think they'd be upset if they saw us like this."

"James would've wanted us to laugh..." For a brief moment, it seemed as if there was a bit of a sparkle in Sirius's eye. "And Lily would've whacked us over the head with James's broom." He laughed bitterly. "And Harry - Oh dear God! Harry!" 

The other man looked up, startled. "Harry!" 

"Where is he, Moony?" barked Sirius. "Where is he??" He took a look at his face. "Remus John Lupin! Don't tell me..." 

Remus (for that was what his name was) shook his head. "I don't know -" 

"James's child, and you've lost him?" asked Sirius, incredulous. "My godson, Remus!" 

"I-I got a bit caught up..." Remus weakly defended. 

"A bit caught up, I'll say," snarled Sirius. "You'd better hope Dumbledore's got him, or there'll be hell to pay." 

"Oh, so going after Peter and then landing in Azkaban's excusable, then?" Remus shot back. 

"At least I remembered James had a son!" shouted Sirius, and then stomped towards the Apparition point. Pausing, he yelled at Remus, "Are you coming or not?" 

"Coming where?!?" Remus still looked a bit red. 

"To find Dumbledore, that's where!" Sirius looked a tad off-colour as well: a nice shade of puce. "So are you coming?" 

"Fine," said Remus, and without bothering to wait for Sirius, he Apparated. Sirius, who seemed to be experiencing several different moods at the moment, wasn't far behind. Soon, they were at the gates. 

"What d'yer wan' a' this ‘our?" greeted Hagrid grumpily. "Don'cher know -" He took a closer look. "Sirius Black and Remus Lupin! What'cher doin' a' this ‘our?" 

"We need to speak to Dumbledore," said Remus. "It's urgent." 

"Oh, all righ'," said Hagrid, taking massive keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the gate. "Ye sure ye know the way te Dumbledore's office, then?"

An unfamiliar voice interrupted whatever Sirius was going to say. "I could help them, Hagrid." 

"Evenin', Professor Potter!" said Hagrid. "Didn' know ye'd be ou' tenigh'." 

The two men stared at each other. Professor Potter? 

"Just went out for a celebration with a friend," said the man easily, then turned to Sirius and Remus. "Alexandre Potter, at your service."

James didn't have any siblings, did he? Remus was the first to recover. "Remus Lupin, and this is my friend, Sirius Black."

"Pleasure to meet you," smiled Alex. "You wanted to go to the Headmaster's office? I can show you the way...I'm on the way there, myself."

"S-Sure," said Sirius, who was looking as if the other man had suddenly sprouted four arms. The three men began walking up towards Hogwarts, a somewhat uncomfortable silence settling on them.

Remus broke the silence. "So what do you teach, Professor Potter?" 

"Please, call me Alex," said Alex, smiling. "I'm currently teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I see..." said Remus. "You don't seem to be from around these parts." 

Alex chuckled. "No, I'm from France. Marseilles, to be precise." 

Sirius's eyes widened. "What's a Frenchman doing in Bonny Ol' England...err, Scotland?" 

"I was offered the job at Hogwarts," shrugged Alex. "I'm the French equivalent of an Auror, but I decided I needed a break. So here I am." 

"Interesting," said Remus, then added, "Your English is quite good." 

"Thank you," said Alex. "My grandfather was an Englishman, or so I've been told." 

"Any relation to James Potter?" asked Sirius, his voice quiet. 

"My cousin," replied Alex. "And no, my father was not...legitimate, if that was what you were asking." 

"I'm sorry," said Sirius, after being jabbed in the ribs by Remus. "James was our best friend...we just thought it was odd we hadn't met you before, that's all."

"I met him once, I think," said Alex. "When I was younger. Though...I did attend his funeral." 

Remus paused, and looked at him once, then twice. "I saw you there!"

Alex nodded, but he made no further comments. Finally, they reached Dumbledore's office, and Alex knocked. "Come in, Professor Potter!" 

The Headmaster looked up, his eyes twinkling. "Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black, a pleasure to see you again." 

"I'll be back in a bit," interrupted Alex. "I have to see to Matt." 

"Give my regards to Mr. Erlin," said Dumbledore. As the door closed, Dumbledore addressed the two men. "Please, sit down. Now, what can I do for you today, gentlemen?" 

"My godson -"

"Harry -"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "One at a time please. My ears aren't what they used to be." 

Sirius took a deep breath. "Where. Is. Harry?" 

"I was originally going to place Harry at the Dursleys' -"

"Tell me you didn't," breathed Sirius. "In Merlin's name, please tell me you did not hand over James's child to those abominations..." 

Dumbledore looked affronted. "Abominations? You don't like Muggles, Mr. Black?" 

Sirius shuddered. "Those Muggles? No, definitely no. Lily's sister lit into us like there was no tomorrow at the mention of magic. Her husband's even worse."

Remus nodded his head. "But you said ‘originally'...So where is he now?" 

"Well, I can't really tell you," said Dumbledore. "I've been asked -" 

"My ass you can't!" Sirius jumped up from his chair. "He's my godson! I should be taking care of him!" 

"Enough!" Dumbledore stated. Sirius gulped. He had never seen Dumbledore this angry before. 

"S-Sorry, Professor," stuttered Sirius. "I guess I got a bit carried away." 

Remus whistled. "I'll say you did, Padfoot. Professor, why can't you tell Sirius? He is Harry's legal guardian, after all." 

Dumbledore sighed. "Mr. Lupin, I have no say over Harry then I did four weeks ago. It's out of my hands." Before they could protest, he put up his hands. "Though I'm sure if the two of you were to promise utmost secrecy, you could see the boy. I'd suggest -" 

"Would an Unbreakable Vow do?" suggested Remus. 

Sirius shook his head vehemently. "Don't you know how dangerous those are? If we break them, even accidentally, we could die!" 

"Well, it's not like you have a suggestion, do you, Padfoot?" asked Remus. "Professor, what do you think?" 

"While Remus is, to some extent, correct in his assumption that we need to have some guarantee over your, err, discretion," said Dumbledore. "I believe that the Unbreakable Vow may be a bit too harsh," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as Remus opened his mouth to protest. "However, there is another solution. A Charm, not unlike the Fidelius Charm, that will prevent you from being able to speak about Harry until you are certain that they know of him as well. Would you be willing to undergo such a Charm?" 

Sirius nodded slowly. "It won't kill me or anything, right?" 

Remus jabbed him in the side again - hard. "Yes, it's going to kill you the moment you say the incantation. Honestly, Padfoot."

Sirius looked at Remus, horrified. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

"And then you're going to be eaten by a Basilisk that's a thousand feet long," continued Remus, unperturbed. Still, Sirius looked at him with horror, unaware of the joke. Remus sighed. "No, Padfoot, no." 

"Oh," said Sirius, then caught on to what Remus had said. "Why, you!" 

"Gentlemen, please," said Dumbledore, though his eyes were twinkling ferociously. "Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin-" He passed a piece of paper at them. "Merely incant the spell, and our problem will hopefully be solved." 

"Vigilo vestri os super Harry Potter," the two men chanted together. 

Sirius looked funnily at Dumbledore. "Are you sure this is all right? I mean, I don't feel like I'm missing anything..." 

"There is only one way to test its success," said Dumbledore, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Professor Potter, you may come in now." 

*********

Alex entered, having heard the conversation the entire time. "Yes, Headmaster?" 

Dumbledore indicated to the two of them to talk. To their surprise, that though they could visualize Harry in their heads, they couldn't even say his name. Alex stared at them and, inwardly sniggered. 

Headmaster?" asked Alex, faking confusion. "What am I here for?" 

 Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "My dear Professor Potter, there is no reason for you not to reveal yourself now." 

"Ah, Matt!" exclaimed Alex. "I'll be right back...Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, please be prepared." 

The two older men stared at each other in confusion. What was that man on about? "Err...Professor, are you sure Professor Potter is all right?" 

"I wouldn't have hired him otherwise, would I?" said Dumbledore. "Ah, here he comes." 

The minute Alex stepped through the door, he said, "Harry." 

Immediately, the two men felt the emptiness disappear. "Wait, Professor, this man knows about Harry?" 

"Evidently," Alex interjected wryly. "And here he is." 

"That's not Harry!" exclaimed Sirius. "I think I'd know my own godson." 

Alex cooed at the child in his arms. "Do you see your godfather, Matt?" 

Matt giggled. "Paddy!" 

"Merlin!" said Sirius gobsmacked, then frowned. "How do I know that's really Harry? You could've just told him what my nickname was." 

Remus smacked him. "Professor Potter wouldn't know your nickname. And besides..." He muttered something into Sirius's ear. "...So that's why I know that's Harry." 

"So why the disguise?" asked Sirius. "Why did you have to change the way he looks?" 

Alex waved at the question. "Did you want him to grow up spoiled? Or mobbed? I do live at the school." 

"Uh huh..."said Sirius, unconvinced. "So...do I still get custody, Headmaster?" 

Alex stiffened, but when Dumbledore shook his head, he relaxed. "No, I'm sorry, Sirius, but blood relatives take priority. I'm sure you could visit. Professor Potter wouldn't necessarily be against your visits, unless..." Dumbledore coughed. "Well, I'm sure you two will behave yourselves."

"Well, it's better to be the fun uncle anyways," sniffed Sirius. "Right?"

********

When all was said and done, Alex couldn't have been happier with the arrangements. It was a bit odd, though, his reaction to Sirius's question. Why hadn't he wanted to give up custody? That had been his original plan, wasn't it? He would only take the child if Alice Longbottom or Sirius Black could not. But Sirius was still in one piece - alive - and not in any way unaccounted for. 

Could you realistically develop feelings for yourself? No, Alex reminded himself, the little boy he was holding on to was no longer the same person he was. Still... 

And was it fair for the boy to grow up without a mother? Sirius had a steady girlfriend right now, and it was plain that they would be married within the coming year. Or so he had been told. But Alex...Alex hadn't even gotten over his loss of Ginny. When she died, it had been as if his world had ended. And, technically speaking, it had. He had gone back in time to re-write the past, so that the future he had gone through would never, ever exist again. That the people he loved would survive, and have happy lives. 

He'd been having selfish thoughts lately. What about me? Don't I deserve to be happy too? 

His thoughts kept him up until three in the morning, when finally sleep overtook him, transporting him to the realm of dreams - at least, he hoped they were dreams. 

********

Where am I? 

He seemed to be in a glade, a cool breeze creating havoc with his hair. The colours he saw were vivid, more so than he had ever seen before. He could hear the animals crying out to their hearts' content, not paying any attention to the stranger in their midst. It seemed like...paradise. 

But it is, my child, came a voice. Alex spun around, but could not see anyone. 

Who are you? Alex asked. And where are you? 

I am here, said the voice. And here. And here. Each time the voice spoke, it came from a different direction. Alex became quite disoriented, and had to sit down. 

Forget about where, said Alex. But who are you?

I am the one who writes your life, came the voice. The one who created you. Fate. Destiny. God. 

For a God who claims to give free will, observed Alex, The terms you define yourself by are quite constricting. Fate? Destiny? The prophecies? 

I see each path you will take, said the voice. But what you choose is yours. 

I don't think I quite believe you just yet, said Alex. I have no reason to. You have taken everything from me. My family, my friends...my future. In fact, I'm in the past to make my own future. Why would I need you?

You don't, said the voice. But the future I have given you is the past.

So why didn't you just do it right the first time? Why make me suffer? What makes me so different from everyone else? Alex asked, his frustration surfacing. Why was I the Chosen One?

Everyone faces something different, said the voice. I only give what you can take. I allow evil to happen, in order for the good to be shown.† 

So you destroyed all those lives to make a point to me? Alex asked. How cruel and callous can you be? 

The actions taken below are not of me, said the voice. I have given free will, and some individuals have taken the opportunity to act upon it, whether they be good or bad. But enough. The coming conflict - 

There's another one? Alex exclaimed. You are unbelievable. I have already defeated Voldemort. What else are you going to throw my way? 

So long as there is evil, there will be conflict, came the voice. And there is one brewing. The actions of your nemesis have stirred up more than what your actions can counter. 

 I don't believe you, said Alex. I make my own way. If there was another war coming, I would have known by now. 

My child... 

No, said Alex. Leave me alone. And I'd thank you to give me my life back. Fate, Destiny, God or whatever you are, really, thanks for being there when I needed you. 

Without another hesitation, and without really knowing, Alex left the conversation, bolting upright in his bed. For hours (or what seemed like it), he stared up at the ceiling, just thinking about what he had just experienced. That was interesting, to say in the least. Was that really God? Or was it his own imagination, being paranoid, that the changes he had made were wrong? He had to get to the Department of Mysteries, pronto. 

********

"Alexandre Potter, here to see the Hall of Prophecies."

"I'm sorry, that's a restricted area -" 

"You don't understand," said Alex. "I'm here to see a prophecy regarding...well, myself." 

"Very well," said the woman manning the desk. "Unspeakable Smith will be escorting you." 

As she was speaking, a man (or woman) came out of the door, and beckoned to Alex to follow him. The last time he had been here, the entire area had been destroyed, in a fit of anger on Voldemort's part. 

The man - maybe a woman? Alex couldn't tell - spoke. "I will be waiting for you by the door. The prophecy, if it does exist, will gravitate towards you." 

"Thank you," replied Alex, and he stepped into the Hall. Row upon row of what looked to be glass orbs sat on the shelves, faintly lit by eerily blue candles, flickering. As soon as both feet were past the doorway, the room began to hum. To his right, he saw the original Prophecy - the one he had suffered through. He reached for it. 

Surely it still applied...but the moment he touched it, it broke in half, and tiny wisps of smoke rose from the broken orb, its faint whispers disappearing into the smoke from the candles. Alex stared at it in disbelief. What...? 

Further down the shelf, another orb began to glow, golden light emanating from it, and eerie flute piping sounded. Curious, but half-afraid, he walked towards it, and picked it up. 

He tapped it twice, and the music stopped. Immediately, the prophecy was spoken: 

Now twice foretold, now twice warned:

Half of magic, half of none, who styles himself Lord

And another, Chosen by the first, now abandoned

Fate hangs in the balance, held up only by temporary accord.

Chosen, he must step forward

Lest his enemy wreak havoc once more.

First must come the arrival of Mentor,

And then the blind.

One rat, of silver paw of past undone, and two

Diminutive helpers, doubled, their roles already cast.    

Destruction of the Dark, Arrival of Light

In one solitary figure, with child of foretold might.

Blood of the ancestor, slithering.

Unholy ground of not quite Slavs, poured in.

Spell of unheard of proportions, Dark by sight,

One free-given sacrifice, not unlike before.

Knowledge. Power. Strength. Might.

Of the four both possess, of unequal distribution.

Either must die at the hand of the other,

For neither can live while the other survives.

One has come, the other in hiding.

One thought dead, another unknown, already Marked.

Change your ways, and the world may yet survive.

If ye interfere or heed not this warning, woe be the realm in which you dwell.

********

At the same time Alex heard the prophecy, Dumbledore was also in his office listening to what he had caught on the lens earlier. He frowned. For perhaps the first time in his entire life, he was speechless. Who was this person the prophecy had referred to? What had happened to the first one? Had the Potters died for naught?

He gingerly sat on his plush chair, and took parchment and quill. As he wrote down the Prophecy, he began to analyse it, bit by bit. 

It was obvious the prophecy referred to Tom Riddle. But who was the other? "Abandoned by the first" yet "One has come"? Little Harry Potter was too young for this one. That had been obvious when the four characteristics had been listed. But could he be the "child of foretold might"? That would make sense. 

And what was that last bit? "Change your ways, and the world may yet survive. If ye interfere or heed not this warning, woe be the realm in which you dwell." What in Merlin's name was that about? 

He really needed to ponder this. 

******** 

Alex crouched, rocking back and forth on his knees. So...it was true, then. Why? He cried out silently. Why me, again? Haven't I done enough? 

And there was no way it wasn't him, no matter whichever way he twisted the words. Why did he have to be the "Saviour of the Wizarding World"? Maybe this place wasn't worth saving anyways. He could pack his bags and move to Canada, where the moose and the beavers roamed. 

But he couldn't, and he knew it. Something in him wouldn't let him; it was his "saving people" complex. And even if he did try to move away, Dumbledore by now had surely caught on. And Sirius Black and Remus Lupin would want to know why...no, it was too complicated. 

What was he going to do? Picking himself up, he nodded curtly to the Unspeakable, and disapparated, back to Merlin and perhaps his sanity. 

Along the way up to Hogwarts, though, he bumped into someone familiar.  

"Good morning, Alex," said Snape. 

"Easy for you to say," said Alex glumly. "You're not the one finding out your whole world's just been tipped upside down...again." 

"I have often been accused by morning grumpiness, but I see that I am not the worst of the lot," observed Snape.  "So what ails you?" 

"I-I probably shouldn't tell you," said Alex. "It'll upset your morning." 

"Come," said Snape. "To The Three Broomsticks. A good breakfast and some coffee should wake you from the drudgery you seem to wallow in." 

"I don't ‘wallow' in anything!" protested Alex. "Besides, my examination is today. I need to go back up to Hogwarts, and talk to Erlin." 

"Come along then," commanded Snape, his robes billowing behind him. Alex just looked at him. He could do that already? "Are you coming or not?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Alex, and both of them trudged up the hill in silence. "Seriously, you don't want to know." 

"I find the very things I know are those that I have little care for. Despite all of this, I find myself becoming the confidant," said Snape. "It's a cross I must bear." 

"Please stop joking around," said Alex. "You're not helping." 

"Very well," said Snape. 

As they walked into the Great Hall, they heard whispers breaking out, all of which seemed to be directed at them.   

"Good morning, Severus, Alex!" boomed Slughorn's voice. "Come, come, sit down." He indicated to the seats to the left of him, one of which was occupied by Flitwick. "Oh, my apologies, Filius, I didn't see you there." 

"No one ever does," replied a glum Flitwick. 

"Don't worry, professor, I'll sit next to Minerva," said Alex quickly, and took a seat next to her. 

"Filius, Alex, call me Filius," said Flitwick. 

Alex nodded, and McGonagall soon caught his attention. "So I heard your exam is today?" 

"Exams, actually," said Alex. "I have the theoretical in the morning, and then the practical in the afternoon." 

"When will you know your results?" asked McGonagall. 

"Err -"

Merlin interrupted, seating himself on the other side of McGonagall. "Good morning, Minerva. And to answer your question, I'll be receiving his results straightaway." 

"Good morning, Christopher," said McGonagall. "Why, I didn't know it was that fast. I remember when I had to do my Transfigurations Mastery it took a week for them to deliberate." 

"They said something about prior experience being counted," said Alex, swallowing. "Apparently, they heard about what I did in France." 

"That makes sense," said Minerva. "After all, you have been working in the field for several years now." 

"Uh huh," said Alex. "So, what time do I have to be there?" 

"As soon as you finish your breakfast," said Merlin. "Minerva, you wouldn't mind taking care of Matthieu, do you?" 

"Oh, no, of course not," said Minerva. "He could come to class with me." 

"Ah..." 

"Don't worry," Minerva reassured him. "It'll be perfectly safe." 

"All right," said Alex, and crouched down to Matt. "So, Mattie, after I'm done my exams, let's go down to Hogsmeade for an ice cream, okay?" 

Matt giggled and cooed. "Ithe cweam!" 

"Yeah, ice cream," said Alex. "So cheer for me, okay, little buddy?" 

"Alec!" And Alex smiled at the little boy, and rewarded him with a piece of cantaloupe.

"Okay, I'm done," said Alex, wiping his mouth and standing up. "See you later, Matt, Minerva."

Minerva waved little Matt's hand, and he giggled, covering his mouth with his other hand. 

********

"So, did I pass?" asked a nervous Alex. He had gone into the exam confident, and the theoretical he was sure he had passed with flying colours. It wasn't until he had entered the arena that he had begun to feel fear. 

It had been pitch dark. He could hear two distinct set of footsteps, one on his right, and one on his left. Did he have time for a Lumos? Gently and silently gathering his shields around him, he waited, but no attack came. Suddenly, he shouted, "Lumos!", and the arena lit up. True to form, that was when they had attacked. 

One had been Alastor Moody, the other...he hadn't been quite sure. But he or she was on par with Moody, that he knew. He had quickly disillusioned himself, knowing that even if Moody could see him, the other person may not have been able to. From there, he made sure to centre all his attacks on the other person, while defending off the attacks from Moody. 

It had been really hard. By the time he had finally disabled the other person, sweat had poured off of him by the buckets. And Moody didn't even have his square peg yet! So Alex waited, and waited, but it seemed that he wanted him to go on the offensive, and so he did. 

He began with an Expulso, and then a Lumos Maximas. From there, he had thrown fire (not fiendfyre, mind you), but all spells had been easily blocked, despite the debilitating light. Out of desperation, he had transfigured the floor under Moody into ice, and had sent an Aguamenti his way. Not prepared for this unorthodox move, Moody had been blasted to the clear end of the other side of the arena, and the practical ended. 

That was why he had been nervous. Was this a typical exam? He frowned. Once upon a time, he had actually considered taking his Defense Mastery. Most of the practicals he had read about were mere duels, not...a fight to the death sort of thing. Had he passed? 

"Yes, of course, my dear boy," chuckled Merlin, clapping Alex's back. "You do know you didn't have to take this exam? They were willing to give it to you straight off the bat, but I told them, Alex wants to do this the right way." 

"Why, you..." said Alex. "All right, fine. Wait a second...you didn't design this too, did you?" 

"Of course I did!" said Merlin indignantly. "Isn't it brilliant?" 

"Oh, real brilliant," said Alex. "Absolutely fantastic."

 "There's a ceremony, of course," said Merlin. "But I'm sure you had to do the same with your Potions and Transfigurations Masteries."

"I hate ceremonies," grumbled Alex. "Useless things. They could just as well perform that spell and give me my ribbons and certification right here." 

"It doesn't matter now," said Merlin. "I will be waiting for you on the other side of the door." He paused before passing through. "Go freshen yourself up in the bathroom. I believe there are towels - oh, and your dress robes - in there. Tata!" 

"Right..." said Alex, sighing. "Dress robes." 

Quickly showering and changing, he was just in time to see someone rushing at him. "Mr. Potter?" 

"Yes?" answered Alex. 

"They are ready for you now," said the woman. "Please, follow me." 

The two of them walked through the doors on the left, and travelled down the hallway, turning stopped in front of a set of peculiar green doors. "You will be entering through these doors, Mr. Potter. All of your examiners will be within, and they will each give you their remarks. After all of them have finished, your mentor will be presenting you with either your Mastery - or nothing. Good luck." 

Despite having heard Merlin's reassurances earlier, Alex was not in any way confident. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door, and was met by five people: three he did not know, the other two, Moody and Merlin. 

He stepped quietly on to the floor below the dais where the four examiners stood behind a table, and waited for them to begin. 

"Mr. Potter." Alex nodded, folding his shaking hands in front of him. "The four of us here, as well as your mentor, were your examiners. We will each speak on your proficiency, and where we think there can be improvement. Are you ready?" Alex nodded. "Then we shall begin, with the practical component examiners first." 

The woman stepped forward. "I was very impressed with your duelling skills. Your proficiency in shielding and using unorthodox attacks signalled to me your experience in the world outdoors - which came as no surprise, as you are a French Auror. Despite this, I feel that there can be some improvement in your reaction timing. Several times you waited for your opponent to come to you. While caution is good, it is often better to make quick decisions." Moody quickly whispered into her ear. "And Mr. Moody here would like to confer to you to keep constant vigilance." She nodded to Alex once, and stepped back. 

The other two examiners stepped forward, and the man who had addressed him first spoke. "Your analyses of several questions were thought-provoking, as well as novel. Your multiple choice section was also flawless. My colleague and I debated over several issues your paper brought forth to us. Thank you." 

The second man began to speak. "There is something you can improve on, perhaps not in terms of your Mastery, but in daily life. Your handwriting needs improving. Although the subject was brilliant, several times we had to use a decoder." 

Alex turned a deep shade of red, but said nothing, merely nodding. Finally, Merlin stepped forward, his face serious, but his eyes twinkling. "Alexandre Matthieu Potter, you are here today because you were deemed worthy to take the Defense Mastery examinations. Throughout the course of these examinations, you have demonstrated to your examiners and to me - your mentor - that you are worthy of carrying the position of..." Here, Merlin, took out ribbons and his certificate, and motioned to Alex to move on to the dais. "Master of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Congratulations, Master Potter. Very well done." 

Merlin placed the bands onto Alex's shoulders, and they shimmered next to his other Masteries' ribbons, and Alex took the certificate. They bowed to each other, and Merlin spoke the blessing, reminding Alex to use his new position not to harm, but to help, and to control his actions, as he now represented the Guild of the Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

After it was finished, he shook each of his examiners' hands, and after a brief discussion, he and Merlin left.

********

"I did it, I did it!" Alex tore into Hogwarts' grounds, dancing and yelling at the top of his voice. "Whoohoo!" 

"Such discretion," sighed Merlin. "I shouldn't have given it to you." 

Alex laughed. "Nothing you can say right now will upset me. I'm on top of the world!" He frowned, having seen something suspicious in the sky. "Wait, what's going on?"

"Hmmm?" asked Merlin, looking up at the sky. "Oh, I merely told your colleagues of your success -"

"You didn't!" said Alex, indignant, then looked up again. "Really, Merlin, how on earth did you get the sky to spell out ‘Congratulations, Professor Potter'?" 

"I have to have some secrets too, my boy," said Merlin. "Now, go. I'll be back in February of the new year." 

"Wait, you're leaving now?" asked Alex. "Without saying goodbye to Matt?" 

"He won't miss me," chuckled Merlin. "And yes. Though I originally told you Saturday, something has caught my attention that just won't wait. Time is an ever-flowing stream, my boy. Send my regards to Minerva. I'll see you in the new year." 

With that, Merlin strode into the Forbidden Forest, towards the portal. Alex sighed. That man was totally unpredictable.

********

As he walked through the entrance, and towards the Great Hall, he was stopped by Pomona Sprout. "Professor Potter!" 

"Hello, Pomona," said Alex. "What can I do for you?" 

"Oh, I'm supposed to lead you into the Great Hall for dinner," said Sprout. "But please, close your eyes." 

"All right..." said Alex, and allowed himself to be led into the Hall. 

"Congratulations!" shouted the entire school. Alex stumbled back, and weakly waved at the students before glaring at the crazy decorations in the hall. Definitely Dumbledore's work. He stepped on to the elevated platform, and sat in his usual spot, before being moved by McGonagall to the spot where she normally sat - beside Dumbledore. Inwardly, he groaned. 

"Congratulations, Alex!" said McGonagall. "What is it now, three Masteries?" 

Alex blushed. "Yes...but I don't plan on getting any more." 

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, three is a good number, isn't it? Congratulations, by the way, Professor Potter."

"Please, Albus, call me Alex," said Alex. "I don't think I want to work through another Mastery. I don't have the talent for any other subjects anyways, besides Charms. But I'm satisfied with my Advanced Charms already. There's no point to calling attention to myself anyhow." 

"I see," observed Dumbledore, and smiled at the sight of a little Matt being entertained by the women at the table. "I see your charge is already being mothered. It has been a long time since we have had children this small at Hogwarts. A true joy, children." 

Alex groaned. "I hope he won't turn out to be a spoiled brat at this rate." 

"I rather doubt it," said Dumbledore. "Children crave love and attention, but this can be shown in a disciplinary way, as well. To neglect this would be to neglect the child." 

Ryan came over at that moment. "Congrats, Alex! See, I told you you'd be perfect for the job. You're starting Monday, yeah?" 

"Thanks," said Alex. "Yeah, I could start teaching day after, if you want. All my lesson plans are done already."  

"Really?" asked Ryan. "Wow. No, I wouldn't mind at all. The sixth years ruined my best clothes this morning, and I wanted to go see Christina tonight." 

"I don't think Madam Rosmerta will mind," said Alex. "Is she working tonight?" 

"Nope," said Ryan. "I'm taking her to Diagon Alley to eat out tonight. Hopefully I'll get all the stains out by tonight." 

"Go ask the house elves to help," Alex suggested. "I'm sure they would know." 

"Great idea!" Ryan's eyes lit up. "I'll do that right away. Thanks, Alex." 

"No prob," he said, and motioned to McGonagall he wanted his nephew - son - back. As soon as the little boy was in his lap, he immediately began bouncing up and down. "Hello Matt-Matt, so why are you so excited today?" 

"Probably because he knows his uncle just finished his exams," suggested McGonagall. "He's such a bright little boy." 

Alex chuckled at the fond tone in her voice. "Just like his uncle, then?" 

"Ego, Mr. Potter!" commented McGonagall, but a small smile graced her lips.

"Say hi to Professor McGonagall, Matt," said Alex. 

"Oh, he knows us all by our first names," said McGonagall. As if in agreement, Matt at that moment spoke. "Aun' Minwa!" 

"I see," said Alex. "So say hi to Headmaster Dumbledore." 

At that moment, Matt climbed from Alex's lap into Dumbledore's, and began to play with his beard. Dumbledore chuckled. "Hello, Matthieu." He transfigured a cup into a rubber duck, and handed it to the child. Immediately, the little boy began an incoherent conversation with the toy.  

"So where is Christopher?" asked McGonagall.

"He had to go back to France," Alex fibbed. "He'll be back in February, he said. Something about a rare magical item."

"Ah, I see," said McGonagall.

"He sent his regards, though," said Alex hurriedly, sensing a bit of hurt on his professor's part. 

McGonagall smiled, and changed the subject. "So what do you plan to do the rest of the evening?"

"I was planning to take Matt out after dinner for ice cream at Fortescue's," said Alex. "And then tidy up some of my stuff in preparation for teaching on Friday." 

"I see...but isn't it too cold for ice cream?" asked McGonagall, but she smiled when Alex shook his head. "Kevin is a bit on the lenient side. I rarely have trouble with the fifth to seventh years. In fact, some of them are the most dedicated." 

"I shall keep that in mind," said Alex, thanked everyone, and excused himself from the table, carrying Matt.  

The child was excited, pulling Alex's hair. "Hey, you know how long it takes to get that hair into perfect shape?" 

Matt only giggled, and drooled into Alex's robes. "Gross, Matt! And those were my dress robes too!" 

He quickly cleaned them up, and rushed into his quarters to change, making sure that Matt's clothes were warm enough for a winter evening excursion. As soon as both of them were ready, he tossed the floo powder, and called out, "Diagon Alley!" 

He had made sure to cover Matt's mouth with his little scarf, and it had paid off. He remembered all the times he had stumbled out of the Floo, coughing from the ashes. Part of the reason he had bowled over back then was because he had been afraid of being bombarded by ashes upon arrival. Now that he had moved past such fears, his arrival through the Floo was graceful, though his Apparition was sketchy at best. 

"Ine wazooda!" shouted little Matt, and the people around him smiled. Alex merely dipped his head and walked into the street. 

"Okay, Matt, what kind of ice cream do you want?" Immediately, the little boy began to point at all the crazy coloured ones, like mango, pineapple, and even green tea. "Are you sure? Can't we just get chocolate?" 

The little boy shook his head. "All right, what about just mango and green tea?" 

There was a frown on the little face, and Alex sighed. "Fine, but you're going to have to eat it all." 

A jolly laugh broke out in front of him, and Alex looked up, startled. "Welcome to Fortescue's! My name is Florean Fortescue. How may I help you today?" 

"Hello, Mr. Fortescue," said Alex, remembering the kind man who had helped him with his homework and had given him free ice cream all those years ago. "I'm Alex Potter. It's nice to meet you." 

"You don't say!" said Fortescue, polishing one of the silver cups. "You're that attorney who put all those Death Eaters away. It's not often we get a celebrity in here." 

"Oh, I'm not a celebrity, truly, I'm not," said Alex. "And I really don't want to be."

"So great and humble, eh?" said Fortescue with a grin. "What would you and your son like today? It's free on the house." When Alex tried to protest, Fortescue quickly cut him off. "No, no, you've done us a wonderful service. I can only do so much, here."

"Well, the mango, pineapple, and green tea, child-sized, and I'll just have plain chocolate," said Alex. "Thanks, Mr. Fortescue." 

The man waved his thanks away, and set the two cups of ice cream on the counter. "There you go!" 

"Thanks," said Alex again, and he walked to a tiny table near the back of the shop. Seating Matt carefully into a booster seat, he began to feed him ice cream, glad that wizard ice cream would not melt until consumed. "Okay, Matt, this is mango ice cream. C'mon, say it." 

Matt giggled, and parroted, "Muno." 

"Good!" said Alex, and spooned out a section from pineapple. "Say, pine-app-le." 

"Py-a'le," said Matt, and dutifully swallowed the pineapple, grinning with delight at the sweet and sour taste. He squealed. "Py-a'le!" 

"Okay, here's another pineapple," said Alex, and soon all the pineapple was gone. "Let's try this one. Say green tea, baby, green tea." 

"Gwee' tee," said Matt obediently, and then started bouncing up and down so Alex couldn't give him the scoop of ice cream - so not so obedient, after all. 

"Oh, c'mon, Mattie," said Alex frustrated, after missing several times. He put it into his own mouth. "See? Mmm...it's so good." 

The bouncing stopped when Matt finally noticed Alex was eating his own ice cream instead of trying to get his attention. "Gwee' tee!" 

"Okay, okay," said Alex. "Here you go." 

Matt swallowed the green tea greedily, and opened his mouth for more. Alex shook his head. "No, what do you have to say first?" 

The little boy looked at him in confusion. "Gwee' tee!"

"Green tea, please," corrected Alex. "C'mon, Matt, say it."

"Gwee' tee, pwea'," repeated Matt. "Pwea'!"

"Good job, Matt," praised Alex. "I didn't think I was this smart when I was your age. If I'm not careful, you might end up being a Ravenclaw!" He joked. "That would be funny, I think, though no one's ever going to get the joke but me."

"You could tell me, if you like," said a voice behind him. Alex quickly turned around, but he had forgotten the spoon in his hand, and it...well, it flew and hit the person speaking. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Diane!" he exclaimed, jumping from his seat, and tried to wipe it off. 

She waved him away. "It's okay, nothing a simple spell can't fix." She calmly magicked it away, and Alex pulled out the opposite chair for her. "Thank you, Alex." 

"So what brings you here?" asked Alex, batting Matt's efforts to get into his hair.

"I always come here after work," said March. "So I suppose the more appropriate question is, what are you doing here?" 

Alex smiled. "I received my third Mastery today, and I thought I'd take my son with me to celebrate." 

"Congratulations!" exclaimed March, and laughed when she saw Matt's sticky little hands' deviousness. "Oh, let me take him." 

"Are you sure?" asked Alex. "He's getting to be a handful." 

"All little ones are, at this age," said March. "But boys, I've heard, are worse." 

"Gee, thanks, Diane," said Alex. "And he's not even two yet!" 

"He's speaking already?" asked March. "That's incredible!" 

"It is?" asked Alex. "All he's doing is imitating me." 

"Definitely going to be Ravenclaw, right, little boy?" asked March, tickling the child in her lap gently. "What's his name?" 

"Matthieu Henri," said Alex. "But Matt, for short." 

"Will you be teaching him French?" asked March, who by now had also gotten her own ice cream. "It's such a lovely language." 

"Really?" asked Alex, surprised. "Most people I've met've seemed to hate French people." 

"Like who?" she asked, and laughed. "I'm sure they weren't good people at all." 

Alex laughed. "Yeah, like Barty Crouch Sr. That was a joke." 

"Oh, yeah," said March, finishing up her ice cream. "I heard about that. You've just had a non-stop streak of bad luck, haven't you?" 

"I wouldn't say that," said Alex. "I mean, my life's a lot less exciting than it was back then." 

An eyebrow went up. "Really? What'd you do back then? Your life seems a heck of a lot more sensational than my life right now." 

"Well, I didn't catch Fenrir Greyback back in France for nothing," said Alex, grinning. "I lived life on the edge." 

"I can tell," said March. "What about your wife?" 

"She-she..." His voice caught. "She was with me every step of the way...until she had Matt, that is. She was killed in the line of duty several months ago." 

"I'm sorry," said March, and on an impulse, laid her hand on his. "Really, and truly, I do. My boyfriend...he was an Auror until he was bitten by a werewolf. I told him I'd stay with him, but you know, or...maybe you don't...but he was so bitter about it that he shut himself from everyone. He committed suicide two months after he was turned." 

"Oh, man," whispered Alex. "We're just broken people, aren't we?" 

"I suppose you could say that," said March, then cracked a weak smile. "Let's talk about more cheerful things. Like Christmas! Can you believe it's only a few weeks away?" 

"Don't even remind me," groaned Alex. "I haven't done my Christmas shopping yet, and God knows how I'm going to do it with Matt around." 

"Who normally looks after him when you go out?" asked March. "Or I could do it." 

"No, it's all right. I'm sure Minerva would be happy to," said Alex, shaking his head. "I swear the women are going to spoil Matt rotten. I've caught them feeding him candy at all hours of the day. Candy! Honestly, women." 

"Hey! I take offense to that!" joked March. "Besides, I think it's the grandmothers in them. Professor McGonagall definitely, I can see that." 

"Really?" Alex said as he finished his ice cream. "I couldn't. I mean, she seems really strict and everything around her students." 

"But she has to be, doesn't she?" argued March. "I mean, she is a professor, head of Gryffindor House, and the Deputy Headmistress. She has a responsibility to be strict." 

"I suppose you're right," said Alex. "Err, you do realize Matt's got your robes all dirty again, right?"

March laughed. "It's all right, I can clean it up." 

"I'm so sorry," said Alex. "I guess we Potters' are just clumsy." 

"Or natural mess-makers," teased March. "Well, I better get going. I have a big case tomorrow..." 

"Oh, sorry for keeping you," apologize Alex...again. 

"Is that all you can do? Apologize?" March laughed. "It's all right. Don't worry about it." As she turned to leave, she paused. "Oh, Ms. Black wants to meet you and thank you in person. She's at Black House right now. Do you know where that is?" 

"Black House?" asked Alex, reaching for Matt from March. "No, I don't think I do." 

"Oh," said March. "Well, it's right in London, actually." She quickly scribbled something on a scrap piece of parchment she had taken out of her pocket. "Here you go." 

"Tell her I'll be dropping by, yeah?" said Alex. "Thanks, though." 

"All right, I'll see you later then," said March, and she walked out the door, giving a quick wave before disapparating. 

********

After Alex had put a very hyper Matt to bed - finally - he sat behind his desk, running the prophecy and his dream over and over in his head. He needed to talk it through with someone, but who? There wasn't anyone he could trust - other than Merlin, but he was long gone, no pun intended - without them thinking he was a crazy kook or something.

Dumbledore was a good choice, if Alex could decide if he could trust him or not. Alex had idolized him in his youth, and now, it had left Alex with no real way of discerning the man's true colours. Yes, he was the representative of the Light. But...would he personally be concerned for Alex's welfare, or would he only use the information to his own advantage? 

McGonagall, though quickly becoming a good friend, would report everything to Dumbledore. So, she too, was out. What about Ryan? Or Filius? Immediately, he banished the thought. After all, he wasn't close to them at all. Besides, Ryan was with Madam Rosmerta tonight. Diane March had been a thought, but he didn't trust strangers very much, despite his friendly façade. Sirius and Remus already distrusted him. So they were out of the picture. 

Who was dependable, and able to hold a secret? He held his head in his hands. There was no one he could really trust, was there? Really, where was Merlin when you needed him? How he wished Ginny, Ron Hermione, all his old advisors...hell, even Snape were here. That was a thought. Snape. He had - in an uncharacteristically un-Snape-ish move - asked him what was wrong that morning. He could always ask for a Vow first... 

And the Snape of his timeline was very different from this one. Yes, he had hated Snape in his youth, but as the war gradually wore on, he had gained a lot of respect for the man. Added to the respect was the somewhat-existent camaderie between the two of them. Both of them felt like outsiders, being new to Hogwarts, as teachers at least. For Snape, he had been alienated by his status as a DE, whilst Alex had been alienated because he was a "foreigner". 

On an impulse, he got up from his chair, set the monitoring charm on Matt's room, and began to make his way to Snape's rooms. He knocked. "Come in!" 

Alex opened the door, and was surprised to see Snape in his full robes, brewing. "Severus, you really should be more imposing, with an ‘Enter' -" Alex lowered his voice in imitation of the past Snape. "Just to intimidate people." 

"And whyever would you think that is necessary?" asked Snape, carefully dicing. 

"I don't know," shrugged Alex. "Can I still take you up on this morning's offer?" 

"Is it urgent?" asked Snape, gently dropping in the sliced flobberworms in, and placing his potion into stasis. 

"I could help you brew, if you like," offered Alex. "I am a fair hand at this." 

"That fact is well known, Alex," said Snape. "But no, this potion is to stay in stasis for twenty-four hours. Come." 

Snape led Alex into his private quarters, and they sat in the living room, which, surprisingly, was not sparse at all. "So, Alex, what's on your mind? If it is romance, I can in no way help you there." 

"No..." said Alex. "If only it was as simple as that. I-I don't really know where to start?" 

"Wine?" asked Snape. "I find alcohol loosens the tongue." 

Alex chuckled. "That it does. And yes, please." 

As Snape poured the wine, Alex gave a nervous cough. "Severus, can you promise never to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?" 

He gave Alex a sharp look. "You haven't committed any terroristic attacks, have you? I am morally obligated to report those." 

"No, no," said Alex. "It's something more important." 

"Oh, really," said Snape, sipping from the wine goblet. "So tell me." 

"Well..." said Alex. "You know the last prophecy?" 

Snape paused, and looked cautiously at him. "What prophecy?"

"The one you overheard," said Alex. "Made by the witch in the tower, Trelawney."

"How do you know this?" asked Snape, who had taken his wand out. "It's a closely guarded secret -" 

"Relax," said Alex, and Snape sat back down. "You know I'm not evil. Wild magic, remember? Anyways...there's a new prophecy." 

"In what relation is it to the other one?" asked Snape. 

"It overrides the other one," said Alex grimly. "And...it involves me." 

"Are you sure?" asked Snape. 

"I went to the Department of Mysteries and picked up that danged ball," said Alex. "If it wasn't me, I'd have gone mad already." 

Snape nodded. "And you require assistance in dealing with this...predicament." 

"And that's just saying it lightly!" exclaimed Alex, and thrusted the piece of parchment into Snape's hands. "Read that, and then tell me I don't have a problem." 

Scanning it quickly, Snape put it down, said, "Are you sure you are the one? You do fit several of the characteristics, especially the ‘solitary figure with child of foretold might' and the ‘Marked' bit. You are marked with the power of wild magic..." 

"There's more, I'm afraid," said Alex grimly. "For one, I'm the only person who understands this prophecy at all." 

"And what led you to this conclusion?" asked Snape, interested. He leaned back, one arm on the armrest, lightly swishing his wine. 

"Can you swear to me that you will never tell anyone of this?" Alex asked, pleading. "Please? It means life or death to me." 

"I suppose you are trustworthy enough," replied Snape, and he swore a magically binding oath. When it was over, Alex began to talk. 

"I'm not from France," he said. "I'm from here, but not here. Heck, I'm supposed to be Matt's age right now."

Snape looked at him, with his eyebrow raised, silent. 

"I'm a time-traveller," said Alex. "Well, an alternative dimension traveller...something like that. Except my dimension doesn't exist anymore. I destroyed it when I came back in time." 

Snape was intrigued. "Was the future terrible?"

"Oh, yeah," said Alex. "You died, Dumbledore, McGonagall, the Weasley family, pretty much everyone...all dead. I was the only one left." He took a breath. "Oh, and that idiot, Fudge. How he survived I'll never know." 

"So the Dark Lord came back," mused Snape. "I suppose I was the spy again?"

"Yes," said Alex. "And the Second War was even worse than the first, from what I heard from the older generation." 

"The older generation?" asked Snape. 

"I am, or rather, was Harry Potter," said Alex, showing Snape his scar - which had been moved to just above his heart previously when his appearance had been changed. "Yes, I know, the son of your hated enemy." 

"And I befriended you," said Snape calmly. "Ironic, how the world works. You are the very opposite to your father, I have to say. More like your mother, I'd judge." 

"Ironic your other self didn't agree at all," said Alex, chuckling. "He used to take off points from Gryffindor just because I looked like my father." 

"You certainly do not look like him now. Perhaps that is what helped," said Snape. "How did you change your appearance?" 

"Oh, Merlin did that," said Alex, shrugging. "Ever wonder why my background is so flawless? Yeah, Merlin did all that."

"M. Erlin," said Snape. "Clever."

"Moving on..." said Alex. "I thought I stopped Voldemort from rising again. I've destroyed all his Horcruxes -" 

"At this point, I rather thought that there would be little in your story that could startle me," said Snape dryly. "I find I am mistaken, yet again."

"I do that to people," said Alex, shrugging. "The only one left is in the possession of Kreacher, Regulus Black's house elf. By the way, he wouldn't be the one who recommended Diane March to Narcissa Black, would he?"

"That would certainly make sense," said Snape. "Narcissa and Regulus have always been close. I had always thought Regulus had died a coward. Thank you for telling me." 

Alex shrugged. "He sounds like a good man. I wish I had known him...Sirius used to always talk about him." His face took on a pained expression. "Sirius died in my fifth year, after being stuck in Azkaban for twelve years. He was one of the first to die...and all because of my stupid mistake. I'll never forget the smile of Bellatrix Lestrange's face as she pushed my godfather into the Veil..." 

Snape made a noncommittal noise. "Any relevance to the prophecy?" 

"Don't you want to know any background information?" asked Alex lightly, though his heart was anything but. "I'm getting there. Remember Peter Pettigrew?" 

"He betrayed the Potters," Snape's voice caught. "But if it weren't for me..." 

"Forget about it," said Alex. "I couldn't save them either. Trust me, I tried. Apparently, though, their deaths were one of those epic cannot-be-changed-ever events. Anyways, Pettigrew came back fourth year and cut his own hand off to revive Voldemort. He was given the silver hand as a reward." Alex looked at Snape. "You getting all of this?" 

Snape nodded. "So he's the ‘rat, of silver paw of past undone'. And what of the ‘two diminutive helpers, doubled'?" 

"Dobby and Cribsy," said Alex. "I think. They're the only ones with doubles. And they're tiny, besides." Snape looked at him in confusion, and Alex clarified. "Malfoy house elves." 

"Ah," Snape replied. "Merlin must be the mentor...the blind?" 

"I think that's everyone in general," said Alex. "No one wants to believe that Voldemort is coming back. Or maybe there is a blind person. I'm not sure."

"Or perhaps they are blind to you," suggested Snape. "You technically don't exist, yet they accept you." 

"Or that," agreed Alex. "And the fourth stanza is how Voldemort will come back. Though...I don't know how he'll obtain the blood of Salazar Slytherin."

"He won't have to," said Snape. "Does he have any living relatives?" 

"Morfin Gaunt...his uncle," said Alex. "He's in Azkaban." Then it dawned upon him. "Wait, if we can keep Morfin safe, then he won't ever be able to rise!" 

"And there are no other relatives?" asked Snape. "No other heirs of Slytherin?" 

"Not that I know of," said Alex. "But Dumbledore would know best." He paused. "But when I got rid of the Horcrux, I could still speak in Parseltongue. Oh, boy." 

"Salazar Slytherin was not the only Parselmouth in history," said Snape. "Nor were his descendants. But perhaps to be sure, you should go for an inheritance test at Gringotts. They will be able to tell you." 

"But that would definitely explain why the Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin," said Alex. "I would've been torn to bits if I had gone to Slytherin." 

"Perhaps," said Snape. "Slytherins are ruled by ambition. If you have power, they will respect you." 

Alex shrugged. "I was only a mediocre student until I realized that all my subjects had relevance in the war." 

Snape laughed. "Certainly true. What is our plan of action?" 

"We should go down to the Chamber of Secrets. Voldemort may have stored his own blood in stasis there. I remember nasty bits of his work down there the last time I went. The basilisk at this point shouldn't be under his control, so I think it'll be all right." 

"Basilisk?" asked Snape, his eyes alight. 

"Did I mention it was over fifty feet in length?" asked Alex. "And no, you can't kill it, unless it's hostile. I don't believe in pointless killing." 

"Their potential in potions ingredients!" exclaimed Snape. "We'd be rich beyond belief!" 

"Funny, that," said Alex. "You didn't much care for it the last time ‘round. I don't think you even really believed me." 

"I won't believe you until I see this for myself," said Snape. 

"And we should bring mirrors," said Alex. "I'd rather be petrified than killed. But let's go this weekend. You have classes tomorrow, don't you?" 

"Not yet," said Snape. "I don't start until the New Year, but Slughorn has requested that I be in at least one class per day." 

"Well, why don't you come with me to see Ms. Black?" asked Alex. "I don't know her at all, and it'd be great if you could introduce us. Saves the awkwardness, I think." 

"When shall we go?" asked Snape. 

"Err...I told Diane to tell her that I'd be dropping by," said Alex, embarrassed. "You don't mind Floo-calling her and asking if tomorrow's all right, do you?" 

"Not at all," said Snape. "I'll call her in the morning. You should get back to your son." 

"I placed a monitoring charm in his room," replied Alex. "He's fine. But yeah, it's getting late. I'll see you tomorrow." He got up from his place, and Snape walked him to the door. "And Severus...thanks." 

Snape just nodded, and he shut the door, but not before bidding Alex goodnight. 

********

Alex slept in Matt's room that night. At around one in the morning, though, all hell broke loose. 

"Waaaaaah!" Alex awoke to screams from the child and the extremely loud alarm charms he had forgotten to disarm once he had entered the room. As a result, he was slightly disoriented and took a few minutes to gather his bearings. 

Quickly he moved towards the child's bed, and scooped the child out. Seating himself back onto his own makeshift bed, he held him against his shoulder, all the while gently rocking him. "Shhhh, baby. Shhhh." 

But the child refused to quiet. "You know, I'd love to just bawl like you," said Alex, stroking the child's back. "But I don't have anyone to hold on to. You're so lucky you've got me." Alex laughed bitterly. "That almost sounded egotistical. But really, Matt, you're so lucky. I wonder why it didn't happen to me..." 

"But I guess I was the first of a series of Harry's to actually think about it," he continued. "Or maybe the other Harry's don't have it half as bad as I do. Wouldn't it be great, Matt, if we could one day visit them? But I don't know. Right now, we just have to keep our faces turned towards the future, and make sure you grow up nice and strong." He shifted Matt onto his other shoulder. "And one day, we'll have all sorts of awesome adventures, Matt. Maybe even save another dimension. Wouldn't that be neat?" 

By now, the child had stopped crying, and had drifted back to sleep. Alex didn't notice though, and kept talking. "And you'll have so many people who'll love you..." 

Eventually, he too, fell asleep, his arms wrapped around his child, painting a perfect picture of an imperfect family.

********

The next morning, he received confirmation that Narcissa would be "delighted to host him" and would be "expecting him in the afternoon for tea". 

"Are you sure it's going to be okay, Severus?" asked Alex, anxious. "Are my dress robes all right?" 

Snape gave him a "what are you, a dunderhead?" look on his face. 

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Alex, adjusting his robes. "Does Matt look all right?"

"I have very little doubt my godson will be dressed as appropriately," said Snape dryly. 

"Oh, right," said Alex. "Are we all set to go?" 

Snape crossed his arms, and looked at him. 

"Fine, I get it!" He strode towards the floo, and handed the powder to Severus. "Are you going first?" 

Alex landed perfectly on his feet, and found Snape and Narcissa Black waiting for him. He walked up to them, and Snape took little Matt. 

"Alexandre Potter, may I present to you, Narcissa Black?" Snape indicated to Narcissa. "Narcissa, this is Mr. Potter." 

Alex stepped forward, and reached for her hand, bowing to kiss it. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Black."He stepped back. "Please, call me Alex." 

"Very well, Alex, if you will call me Narcissa," said Narcissa warmly, in fact, so warmly for a second Alex forgot he was talking to Narcissa Mal - err, Black. "I have tea ready. Would you like to join me?" 

"That would be excellent, Narcissa," said Alex, and the three of them followed her into her into her dining room. Within, a splendid array of food awaited them. "This is incredible!"

Narcissa blushed. "I enjoy cooking on my own time, though my family had explicitly forbidden it when I was younger. Now that I am free, I find myself towards more home-oriented tasks. My house elves despise me for it though." She smiled. "But please, take a seat." 

Alex moved to seat her first, before seating himself. "I am glad to see you are doing well, Narcissa." 

She nodded apprehensively. "And I cannot thank you enough for that," she said. "For years I have petitioned for my freedom, but until my uncle passed away, I could do nothing. It is really due to my cousin's efforts, as well as yours and Diane's that I am able to walk without fear." 

"Anything for a lady as beautiful as you," said Alex, grinning. "Severus has told me you have a son?" 

"Oh, yes," she said. "He's napping right now, but when he awakes, he could keep your son?" Alex nodded. "Your son entertained." 

"I'm sure it will be the other way around," said Alex, laughing. "My son can be quite rambunctious." 

"Oh, no," interjected Snape, who sat across from him. "My godson can scream to high heavens. Narcissa spoils him overly much." He looked fondly at her. "But I suppose that can be said of any mother." 

 Narcissa, who was sitting beside him, slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "I spoil him? Perhaps you switched the nouns! Wasn't it you who bought him that toy he'd been crying for weeks?" 

"Oh, ho!" laughed Alex. "And the secret's out, Severus!" 

Snape looked sheepish. "It might have been me," he said. "But you, my lady, are the one who stuffs the child with sweets before sending him over into my care. Dear Merlin, the cries and shouts of Draco Black." 

"Sweet revenge, ‘tis all, my dear Severus," said Narcissa. "Slytherin I once was, and Slytherin I remain. But enough of my son.  Alex, tell me about your own. It must be terrible, raising him on your own. He looks like an adorable child." 

Alex glanced at the bouncing infant next to him. "Oh, yes, adorable, when the female professors at Hogwarts aren't stuffing him with sweets. He's a right terror then." 

"From what I gathered, Mother was more delighted with the girls she had," said Narcissa. "Must be because you lot are terribly primitive and noisy." 

Alex laughed. "I can agree to that. Diane and Madam Rosmerta, though, have told me boys become even worse by the time they're two." 

"Oh, I do hope not," said Narcissa. "I don't think I would be able to handle it very well. But Severus has been helping me lately. I really don't know what I would do without Draco's godfather." 

"I'll repeat that verbatim the next time you call me a ‘Great Bat'," said Snape dryly. 

Narcissa laughed. "But you knew that already, Severus." She turned to Alex. "And your wife...?" 

"Oh, she passed away several months ago," said Alex softly. "My Ginny...she was the bright light of my otherwise dismal life. She was with me on the field, and was killed in action going against one of Voldemort's" - here, the other two people flinched, but Alex didn't notice - "rogue forays into France." 

"Oh, my condolences," Narcissa said softly. "It's truly terrible when you lose the person you think you will spend the rest of your life with. I'm so terribly sorry." 

"Well," smiled Alex weakly. "It's funny, you know. She's been gone for so long...but the break in my heart is still there." 

"I don't think you'll ever get over it," said Narcissa. "When my father died, my mother was inconsolable. She wasn't happy...until the moment she passed away. I think because she knew she would be reunited with him." 

Alex looked at her. "Sometimes, I think that too...but having my son around has really kept me grounded. Without him...I'm sure I would've attempted some suicide mission by now." 

Severus looked at him. "Then it's good you have so many people looking after you, then. We wouldn't want you dying on us for no good reason."

Alex laughed half-heartedly. "No good reason?" 

"One never knows when his time has come," said Snape. "But if it is preventable, then it would be rather a waste if you were to transpire."

This time, Alex really laughed, and Narcissa laughed too, at Snape's dry wit. The rest of the afternoon was spent talking about Narcissa and Snape's old school days, Alex's own experiences on the field, and listening to cackles of glee in the next room. All in all, it was a terribly good visit.