Albus placed both hands on his desk, closed his eyes, and tried to slow his breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Such a shame… I had hoped it was young Harry coming through the flames… ah, well… next time.

Fear gripped Albus again and this time the wave of panic only abated in response to a musical trilling coming from near the door. Albus, feeling calm now, if not free of fear, opened his eyes to look over at Fawkes in gratitude. “Thank you old friend.” Fawkes gave on last sleepy whistle in acknowledgment, then tucked his head back under his wing.

Albus’s mistake had been in allowing Voldemort to talk. He did not blame himself for not immediately subduing Quirinus when Albus had discovered him in the room with the Stone. The man posed little threat to Albus himself, and, having just caught him red-handed, Albus was in the best position he had been in yet to figure out Quirinus’s true motives. But after he had unveiled Voldemort from beneath his turban, Albus should have abandoned all plans of getting information, and sent Voldemort away as quickly as possible. (Of course, the best possible outcome would have been to capture Voldemort, but Albus did not know any spells for holding such a shade prisoner, if a spell like that even existed.)

But the things that Albus hoped to learn from Quirinus paled in comparison to the things he needed to discover regarding the former Tom Riddle, first and foremost being how he was still alive, in a manner of speaking. Albus had theories, but without proof or evidence, they were nothing more than guesses with vaguely defined edges. Not that Albus actually expected Voldemort to outright tell him anything, but he had hoped to at least get hints that might guide his thinking. But Voldemort gave none of that, instead focusing his conversation around one thing, or person rather: Harry.

Back in his school days, Tom had always had an interest in immortality, an interest that Albus had watched, from a distance, grow into a full blown obsession. The thought of living forever, or more precisely, never dying, held a place even above the acquisition of power as Voldemort’s driving force. And yet that obsession seemed to pale tonight in comparison to the focus he gave to Harry, his voice caressing the child’s name like a snake slowly wrapping around its prey. Albus tried to convince himself that this obsession, or at least the depthless nature of it, was merely an affectation. Voldemort didn’t truly understand love, but he knew how to recognize it in someone else well enough to be able to turn it against them to make them suffer: after all, Voldemort was very well-versed in the giving of pain.

But try as he might, Albus couldn’t force himself to believe the obsession was faked. It made too much sense, if only in the twisted way that Voldemort ever made sense. From Voldemort’s perspective Harry had, as little more than an infant, both resisted the Killing Curse and outmatched a formidable wizard. Immortality and power all wrapped up in one small boy, how could one such as Voldemort not develop a fascination with Harry? A sick and twisted fascination, like all the things that man touched became, and it made Albus wish that there was a way to reveal the whole of the prophecy to Voldemort: at least that might earn Harry a relatively quick death if it ever came to the worst.

No. It would not come to that, because Albus would not allow it to. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Voldemort speak, to let his vile words slither their way into Albus’s brain, but maybe not. Because now Albus knew Voldemort was back, Albus knew what he was up to, and most importantly, he knew how vital it was that he create somewhere safe for Harry to hide should that worst case scenario ever happen, somewhere that Voldemort could never reach him.

The answer came to Albus in a flash, and he found himself lifting his hands in the air in front of him, as though to push the realization away. He couldn’t do that to Harry, especially not after he had promised him over and over that something like that would never happen again. But if he didn’t make this choice and Harry was captured by Voldemort because of it… Harry miserable and hating Albus, but alive and safe was infinitely preferable to that alternative.

As soon as he accepted that this was indeed what he had to do, Albus sent a Patronus summoning Remus. If Albus delayed, he might end up talking himself out of it after all.

Albus used the fifteen minute or so wait for Remus to try and reclaim at least semblance of calm, but it seemed his efforts were largely ineffective, for Remus took one look at Albus and asked, distress bleeding from his tone, “What happened?”

“Something terrible,” Albus said succinctly. “Luckily I was able to deal with the problem for now, but it did bring to light a larger issue that I’ve failed to appropriately address. Since the beginning of the year we have all been so worried about Harry’s happiness – as well we should because that child deserves happiness, perhaps more than any of us. But no matter how concerned we are with his happiness, we cannot forget that the most important thing is that he’s kept safe. And at the moment the best way to assure Harry’s continued safety is to return him to the Dursleys. We’ll take precautions to make sure he’s cared for to the best of their ability this time, of course, and I am sorry, because I know you were looking forward to taking care of him, but this is what’s best for right now.”

“I see,” Remus said, looking very much as though he were just humouring Albus before casting two Patronuses of his own and sending them off.

“Who were those to?”

“Minerva and Severus,” said Remus. “I’m sure that whatever your reasons for suddenly wanting to send Harry back to his abusive relatives, you truly believe it’s in his best interest. And I’m sure you could convince me of that, if I let you. But that’s only because you are a very persuasive man, and I’m sometimes too accommodating for my own good. However, if you can convince Minerva and Severus that this is in Harry’s best interest as well, I will feel much more comfortable with it.”

“An excellent idea,” Albus acknowledged. He closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed again. In. Out. “I’ll feel much more comfortable then as well, I believe.” Minerva was an immensely practical woman and Severus… well, he was hardly a stranger to sacrifice and the necessity of it at times. And they both cared for Harry, such that Albus could trust them to put Harry’s best interests first, and also trust that their perception of his best interests would be coloured by sentiment for the child without being needlessly clouded by it.

Albus forced himself to sit down in his desk chair, then gestured to Remus that he might do the same. Once they were both seated, Albus gave Remus the closest thing to a smile that he could manage at the moment and said, “I think it best we wait for the other two to get here before I tell you what happened. It’s not a story I want to relate more times than I have to, and I doubt you would want to hear it multiple times.” Remus inclined his head in acknowledgment and the two of them waited in silence.

Minerva was the first to arrive – Severus was likely moving faster than her, but Minerva’s office and quarters were closer. “Hello Remus, if you’re here then I presume this is regarding the message I sent you earlier about Harry and his friends?”

“Correct,” Albus said. “And I would like to hear more about what exactly transpired with the children, but we need to wait for Severus’s arrival first.”

Minerva frowned a little. “I hardly think we need Severus if this is a disciplinary matter for a lot of Gryffindor students making up stories. Unless… you can’t possibly mean to imply that someone was actually trying to steal the Stone?”

“Trying and arguably nearly succeeding,” Albus told her.

“What stone?” Remus asked.

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” Albus said. “I owed Nicholas Flamel a favour, and when he became aware that his Gringotts’ vault containing the Stone was going to be broken into, he asked that I allow him to use Hogwarts as a temporary home for it until he could create a much more secure place to keep it.”

“But keeping an artefact like that in the midst of a bunch of schoolchildren, isn’t that incredibly dangerous?” Remus protested.

“We took precautions, chief among them not letting people know that the Stone was here, and as I said it was only ever intended as a temporary stop-gap measure,” Albus said. “But you’re right of course. In fact, it turned out to be far more dangerous than I imagined.”

“Albus, what –” Minerva began, but was cut off when Severus entered the room.

“Ah, good. Please take a seat Severus and we can begin,” Albus said.

“Begin what?” Severus asked, sitting down in the last available chair and regarding Albus with look number 3 - I’m not sure what you’re up to, but I doubt I’m going to like it.

“We have grave matters to discuss, I’m afraid,” Albus said.

“Someone apparently managed to get into the castle and tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone,” Minerva added.

“I certainly never told Quirrell how to get past my protection, and I doubt he’s smart enough to sort it out on his own,” Severus said.

“Quirinus? He’s been a member of the staff here for years; I can hardly believe he was the one who tried to steal the Stone,” Minerva said.

Severus scoffed. “Of course he’s the one who did it. You must have noticed how he’s changed since he came back from Romania.”

“Well, changed yes certainly, but not into a criminal,” Minerva objected. “If anything, he seems a less likely suspect now than he would have before.”

“All of this is very concerning I’m sure,” Remus said. “But I don’t understand what it has to do with the sudden decision to make Harry go live with his relatives again.”

“What?!” Severus and Minerva said nearly simultaneously, both of them rounding on Remus, who threw his hands up defensively.

Albus cleared his throat delicately and when the three all almost immediately turned to look at him he regard them with a placid expression. “Perhaps it would be better if we began at the beginning and proceeded on in a logical fashion from there,” he suggested, mildly rebuking. “Minerva, why don’t you start with what happened earlier with Harry to prompt you to contact me while I was out.”

“I presume you mean to come back to what gave Remus the ludicrous idea that Harry was going to be sent back to those horrid people?” Albus gave her a brief nod, and Minerva drew herself up a little straighter and continued. “Well then, earlier I was walking through the halls when I happened to pass in front of the entrance to your office, Headmaster. As I did so the door came open and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger all came out. Since I knew you were out at a request from the Minister and couldn’t have possibly requested their presence yourself, I questioned them and they claimed they were trying to warn you that someone was going to steal the Stone. That seemed unlikely in the extreme to me, and certainly nothing that a bunch of students should get involved in, but considering the circumstances, I thought it best that I not seem immediately dismissive of Mr. Potter if he was seeing fit to bring his concerns to an authority figure. So I pressed further and they revealed that Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Draco Malfoy had peeked into the north wing on the third floor and seen the Cerberus there –”

“Fluffy is his name,” Albus said.

“Quite,” Minerva said, briefly crinkling her nose in distaste. Admittedly it was a rather odd name for such a creature, but it was his name nevertheless; no reason not to use it. “As I was saying, the three boys had seen ‘Fluffy’ and Mr. Malfoy in particular noticed the trapdoor beneath the creature’s feet. They started prying into the matter and were able to piece together that the Philosopher’s Stone was being hidden down there under protections placed by various staff members and furthermore Misters Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom and Miss Granger discovered while speaking with Rubeus today that he accidentally let slip to someone the method for soothing… Fluffy. The children mentioned something about a dragon egg.” Minerva gave him a significant look.

“Ah yes, that incident.” Albus said. “Not to worry, it’s been taken care of. If you recall, Charlie Weasley is working on a dragon preserve in Romania now, so I asked Arthur reach out to him and Charlie arranged for the dragon’s discreet return to the wild.”

“So good to know I’m being kept abreast of what’s going on in the castle,” Minerva said, with the faintest edge of sarcasm colouring her voice. “After the children finished relating everything to me, and given both Harry circumstances and that Miss Granger in particular is not especially prone to flights of fancy, I decided that it would be prudent to alert you of their concerns before sending them on their way and telling them to let the adults handle the matter. And that’s the last I was aware of until now. It wasn’t really Quirinus that was trying to steal the Stone, was it?”

“Yes and no,” Albus offered as an answer, which from her expression Minerva didn’t care for in the slightest. “The full answer to that question, and the rest of this tale in general, requires a bit more context, so let me start back at the beginning of the school year. From the moment I first saw Quirinus after he’d come back from his vacation I knew something had changed in him and not, I’m afraid, for the better. Severus shared my suspicions and, at my request, kept an eye on Quirinus. It soon became clear that Quirinus was indeed trying to steal the Stone, and it was also clear that he was not doing so of his own volition, but rather at someone else’s behest.”

“But if you knew that, then why allow him to stay at the school; why not fire him, or do something to remove him?” Minerva objected.

“And lose the only lead we had to who he was working for?” Severus sneered, as though he hadn’t been making the very same objections only a few months past. Albus let out a small chuckle which he quickly hid by clearing his throat, though not quickly enough, by the glare that Severus sent him.

“Severus is right; not to mention that Quirrell’s attempts were, to speak plainly, rather incompetent. Almost embarrassingly so. I thought that I would be able to handle him, and was less certain of my ability to catch and handle whoever was sent in his place if he was removed,” Albus said. “It seems to me now that this supposition was not true.”

“Albus, what happened down there?” Minerva asked.

“Well, as soon as I got your message I realized that the request from Cornelius must have been faked, and indeed not too long after I turned around the alarm alerting me that someone had gotten through the trapdoor went off. I headed back as quickly as I could, then went straight to the room where the Stone was being held. There I came across Quirinus, standing before the Mirror of Esired, my own last protection around the Stone, apparently talking to thin air.” In. Out. “Then he took off his turban.”

“I don’t understand, what’s the significance of the turban?” Remus asked.

“Of the turban itself, nothing,” Albus said. “But underneath the turban, emerging out of the back of Quirinus’s head, was a face. A face that, even distorted and half-formed as it was, I recognized instantly: Voldemort.”

Remus let out a small gasp and gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white, while Minerva looked a bit green around the edges of her tightly pursed lips. Severus remained as unperturbed-seeming as ever, merely saying in a painfully even tone, “So, He has returned.”

“Not fully,” Albus said. “He failed to acquire the Stone and consequently the Elixir of Life he was after, so he remains stuck in his current form: a wisp of spirit with less substance than even a ghost. He fled rather than face me, abandoning Quirinus and thus killing him.”

“Quirinus is dead?” Minerva asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Albus confirmed.

“I presume, Headmaster, that it’s Voldemort’s reappearance that has prompted your sudden desire to return Harry to the dubious care of his odious relatives and the particular magical protection their home provides,” Severus said. “What I fail to understand is why. I believe we’re all aware you’ve long suspected that the Dark Lord did not perish that night, so what has changed?”

“Suspecting a thing and having it confirmed are two very different situations,” Albus pointed out, but Severus merely raised an eyebrow at him. It was a valid point he was making; Albus did typically try to plan for all foreseeable contingencies, and his decision to have Harry removed from the Dursleys’ care was made with the possibility in mind that Voldemort might not yet be dead.

“You’re correct of course,” Albus said. “It’s not the mere presence of the man that’s prompted this change of plan. You see, before Voldemort fled, we spoke. I had hoped to maybe uncover even a few small details of how he managed to survive, or what his future plans were. But he was only interested in speaking on one subject: Harry. You’ve seen how single-minded he can get, Severus, and I’m sure even the two of you are peripherally aware of it. But his obsession with Harry goes beyond anything I’ve seen from him before. It’s far greater than I ever would have suspected, and I’ve come to see that we simply cannot give up the one absolute safe haven that we have for Harry.”

“How could you possibly consider a home with those people a safe haven?” Minerva said. “Those foul, despicable… child abusers!”

“I am well aware of the nature of the Dursleys. But them at least we can exercise some measure of control over. If I let them know that we’re watching them and that we expect their behaviour toward Harry to improve or there will be consequences, then Harry’s summers shouldn’t be unbearable. And he wouldn’t need to stay there the whole summer, only long enough to ensure that the protections I’ve cast remain set in place for another year, a month, two at the most,” Albus said.

“Well certainly that’s better than just abandoning Harry to the Dursleys, but do you really think that’ll be enough? Severus, you did something similar for Harry’s last month before he came to Hogwarts, didn’t you? It was my understanding that that didn’t fare too well,” Remus said.

“From what Harry reported to me, there was a significant drop-off in their actively abusive behaviour that past month, but that was merely replaced with more neglect,” said Severus.

“Yes, exactly,” Remus said. “I understand, or at least I assume, that these protections are stronger than anything else that could be done, but surely the measures to keep them are a little extreme, especially when it’s in preparation for something that may never come to pass.”

“It’s true that I can’t put a timetable on if and when Voldemort will be able to amass enough power to be a threat once again. It may be that it won’t come to pass until after Harry has grown and is beyond those protections regardless, or it may never happen at all. But I cannot merely sit back and trust that that is how it will work out,” Albus said.

“No, you’d rather put your trust in the common decency of a family who has long since proved that they have none,” Severus sneered. “You told me that you did not believe there was any greater good that could be serviced by letting harm come to an innocent child. Was that a lie, or have you simply changed your mind?”

“I am not trying to harm Harry; I’m trying to protect him.” The words came out sharp and harsh, such that all three of the others seemed taken aback. Albus forced himself to take another breath, then continued in more measured tones. “I know we all have had some experience with Voldemort, and that we all have some comprehension of the danger he poses to Harry. But I’m the only one here that was in that room with him earlier; I’m the only one who looked him in the eyes as he spoke about Harry. And what I saw there frightened me. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that Harry stays safe, and if that means leaving him miserable for part of the year and hating me for the rest of his life, then so be it. But I do not want it to come to that, so if any of you know of any alternative, if you have a better option, then please, tell me.”

Albus’s entreaty was met with silence, which he wasn’t surprised by. He was disappointed a little bit because, well, hope sprang eternal and there was a small part of him that maybe there was some possibility that he had overlooked, but he wasn’t surprised. But just as he was about to ask for help in determining the best way to go about what had to be done, Severus spoke.

“If the two of you could excuse us for a minute, I would like a word with the Headmaster in private.”

“Severus?” Minerva said.

“Rest assured that I have no intention of allowing him to break his promise, one that he has made repeatedly,” Severus said with a pointed glare in Albus’s direction, as though Albus wasn’t already keenly aware of that fact. “But what I have to say on the matter includes my private business, which I don’t wish to air out before all and sundry. So if you would leave.”

Minerva wasn’t cowed in the least – Albus would have expected no less from her – and she stared intently at Severus for a long moment. Then she gave a single sharp nod and said, “Very well. We are of a like mind on this matter, so I trust you to see this resolved to our satisfaction. Remus, there are actually a few things I wanted to discuss with you for next year, if you would care to join me in my office?”

“Of course,” Remus agreed. “I’ll be along in just a minute.” Minerva left, and Remus turned to look at Severus. “I don’t wish to pry into your private business at all, but may I ask: does this solution of yours still allow me the guardianship of Harry?”

“No,” Severus answered, blunt and to the point.

“I see,” Remus said. He closed his eyes for a few seconds then opened them again and gave Severus a weak, but still genuine smile. “I realize that the two of us aren’t exactly friends, and that, given certain events in our pasts, we may never be. But I also know that you care for Harry as deeply as I do, and I know that you will keep his best interests in mind. So if there’s anything I can do to help you, with regards to Harry, or anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Heaven forbid that I should ever require the help of a mangy wolf,” Severus drawled sarcastically.

“Yes, well, the offer remains open.” Remus inclined his head in Albus’s direction, said, “Headmaster,” and then took his leave.

The door closed behind Remus, and for a moment the room was quiet. Albus was anxious to hear what it was Severus had in mind, to put it mildly, but he held his peace. Severus would come in his own time, or not at all.

“I am aware,” Severus said after an eternally long minute, “that the solution I am about to propose is not a particularly good one, much less ideal. However, you have not asked for an ideal solution, you asked for a better option than returning Harry to the Dursley’s. And by that exceedingly low metric I believe this qualifies.”

“And what would this be?” Albus prompted.

“That too is an answer that requires some context,” Severus told him. “My father was not a good man, and I think my mother did try her best, but her best wasn’t… suffice to say my home life growing up was not significantly better than Harry’s had been.” Albus did not react to that statement, in part because doing so would have been a mistake right now, but primarily because this wasn’t a revelation to him so much as a confirmation of long held suspicions.

“Lily eventually became aware of this and decided that, as my friend, she would take it upon herself to fix the situation. And from there she decided that the best way to do so would be to arrange it so that I could come and live with her family. Her sister and I didn’t get along, of course, but her parents were kind to me and the two of us were best friends; to ten year old Lily it seemed like the perfect solution. She suggested that we undergo a Muggle ritual called ‘blood brothers.’ It required that we both prick our fingers with a needle, and then press our wounded fingers together. The exchanging of blood would supposedly make us family at which point her parents would have to take me in. Even then I knew it wouldn’t work out that way, despite Lily’s optimism, but she asked me to do it with her, so I did.”

Albus pressed his lips tightly together to keep from interrupting. He thought he could see the shape of things now, as a great many things that had been confusing him fell into place, but it was not yet time for him to speak. This was a story Severus needed to tell to the end.

“I cannot tell you exactly what happened, but when we underwent the ritual and our blood intermingled, there was a flash of some kind of magic. And whatever precise effect the magic had, I can say for certain that it was a result of the two of us wishing in that moment that we were family.”

Severus took a deep breath in and let it out, the only indication he had given that the subject at hand was an uncomfortable one for him, though Albus knew that it must be exceedingly so. “The point being, Headmaster, that if you were to test it, I’m certain you would find that the blood of Lily Evans runs in my veins. And as a blood relative of Lily, I am qualified by law and by magic to take Harry in and become his guardian.”