Divenire

Author Note: Thank you to our wonderful and grammatically anal beta, XME Witty. Embarking on this AU journey has been absolutely crazy, but we're very excited and we hope everyone enjoys the ride.

March 17^th, 1981

Albus Dumbledore looked across the table at the woman he had come to interview, and sighed. She seemed to have no talent for the Sight whatsoever, despite all of her efforts. They had been talking for less than an hour, and she had so far predicted the deaths of the Minister of Magic, Minerva McGonagall, the Muggle president of the United States, Celestina Warbeck, and Albus himself. He was not pleased. He quite liked Celestina Warbeck.

"Sibyll," he said, "just out of curiosity, how many of your predictions come true, approximately?"

The woman drew her shawls more tightly around herself and shot Albus a dirty look through her rather thick glasses. "A seer doesn't keep tabs on all of her predictions," she answered, looking deeply offended by the question.

"Just curiosity, Sibyll. I do remember that one Prophet article a few years ago, the one where you predicted the deaths of every member of the Holyhead Harpies by lightning. I was wondering if that was a common occurrence."

"Just because it hasn't happened yet doesn't mean that it won't happen." She took another drink of her sherry, and Albus took the opportunity to unobtrusively check his watch. He had given the woman quite enough of his time, and it didn't do to be out too late when things were so dangerous.

"Well, Sibyll, it has been quite nice to meet you, but I'd best be going now," he said, shaking her hand. He turned to leave. Minerva would be incredibly self-righteous when she heard about the interview; she had a low opinion of Divination in general and Sibyll in particular (the woman had apparently been abominable at Transfiguration while at school). He was halfway to the door when a strange, low, croaking sound came from behind him. He turned to find Sibyll slouched in her seat, head tipped back. His first thought was that she was having some sort of fit; his second, that she was desperate enough to fake a prophecy.

She began to speak. "Though the Dark Lord is now rising, he can be made to fall. A child- a child born as the seventh month dies- a boy born to parents who have thrice defied the Dark Lord-- he will be one who brings down the evil that plagues us." Albus heard a loud thump, and a muffled groan from the landing behind him, but he ignored both. He had seen true prophecies before - either Sibyll was delivering a true prophecy, or she was a much better actress than she seemed. "Evil will be weakened for a time, but not forever. Only the one whom he has marked can make a final end of the Dark Lord." The muffled shouting grew louder, and Sibyll started out of her trance.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Albus, I must have nodded off." She had regained her usual, misty tone of voice. "Whatever is that noise?"

Albus turned to open the door. Outside, Aberforth was holding a young man with greasy hair by the ear and was in the process of dragging him down the stairs.

"Aberforth? What is the problem?" Albus inquired. His brother looked back at him.

"The idiot was eavesdropping; at your door, too. Hope the conversation wasn't confidential?"

"Of course not," he replied, "just an interview for a teaching slot."

"Are you going to hire her?"

"Yes... I believe I will."

"Good. I'll clear out this riffraff, then. Good night." Aberforth turned to go, and Albus' heart sank. The eavesdropper was none other than Severus Snape, a suspected Death Eater. Albus began to call his brother back, but stopped. He had no proof that the man was a Death Eater, and he could hardly obliviate someone in the middle of a pub.

Sibyll peered over his shoulder. "Honestly, how rude! He must have been jealous of my talents and spying to try to hear my predictions." She gave an indignant sniff, which was followed by a small hiccough. Albus sighed. He really didn't want to hire Sibyll, but after that prophecy, he didn't have a choice.

October 31^st, 1981

Malfoys do not panic. Malfoys are always calm and collected. Malfoys always have a plan. Malfoys are never on the losing side.

Lucius had been the embodiment of the ideal Malfoy for his entire life, but he was watching it all collapse around him. In his mind's eye, he saw everything his ancestors had built, everything he had built and maintained, and the reputation he had cultivated disappearing. The Dark Lord had left for the Potters' house two hours before, and he had not come back. One and a half hours ago, all of the Death Eaters' had felt their Dark Marks burn like fire and then go cold; very cold. An hour ago, Lucius had taken a few others with him and gone to search the Potter home- only to find a smoking ruin. There were Ministry officials, Muggle officials, curious passers-by, and weeping friends of the deceased, as well as Ministry Obliviators frantically trying to control the situation. There were two bodies laid on stretchers, but they had been so damaged by the fire that no one could identify them. There was no sign of their master, and Lucius had fled before he could be asked any questions. He had to go home.

Narcissa Malfoy was frantic. She had just put Draco to sleep when her sister, Bellatrix, had come running out of the downstairs fireplace, yelling, "Narcissa! You need to get out!"

"Bella! What happened?" Bellatrix was covered in soot and clutching her forearm, and she had what looked suspiciously like tear-tracks running down her face. Narcissa was shocked. She hadn't seen Bella cry since she was seven.

"The Dark Lord; he's gone."

"Bella, I don't understand..."

"He's gone, Cissy. He went to go attack the Potters, and he didn't come back. The house is in ruins, and the Potters are dead, but they're saying that the son is alive somehow. The mark has been burning, and the Ministry is everywhere. He's gone, and people are already starting to talk. Me and some others, we'll try to find him; but you need to get out. Protect your son; he's our family's only heir." Bella was speaking extremely quickly.

Narcissa paled. "Where's Lucius?" she asked.

"He was checking the Potters' house. He'll probably get back soon, but you need to get ready to run. Without the Dark Lord, you could be given away at any minute."

"I can't leave without Lucius."

"There is no time for this, Narcissa! It's your husband's job to help find the Dark Lord, and it's your job to get yourself and Draco out!" She shook her head. "For Merlin's sake, you're a Slytherin, Narcissa; be sensible and run." With that, she rushed forward and hugged Narcissa in an unexpected gesture of comfort, and then threw Floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared in a burst of flame.

Narcissa collapsed onto one of the sitting room chairs.

A house-elf appeared at her side. "Will Madam be wanting anything tonight?"

Narcissa sighed. "Pack appropriate baggage for a long stay for Lucius, Draco, and myself." She thought for a moment. "Take it to the place in France." They would have to leave a lot behind; Lucius would not be pleased. She settled in to wait. Whatever Bellatrix said, Narcissa was not going anywhere without her husband.

When Lucius entered the house, it was to find himself immediately engulfed in his wife's embrace.

"Narcissa, what-?" he began to question.

"Bella was here; she told me what happened. I've already got the house elves packing." She stepped back to look at him. Lucius seemed much more composed than Bellatrix, but Narcissa had heard the edge of panic in his voice.

"Packing?" he asked.

"Yes, it's the only safe way; until we know what's going on, at least." "Fleeing is an admission of guilt. If we leave, the Ministry will know that we are supporters of the Dark Lord. We can't come back from that sort of thing!"

"We can't live our lives and raise our son if we're stuck in Azkaban!" she exclaimed.

"Where would we run to, Narcissa?" asked Lucius, his voice rising. "France, America? How long until we're extradited? We can't hide forever. Besides," he added, voice softening, "we are Malfoys. We shouldn't have to run from anything." Narcissa was crying now, and Lucius took her hand.

"If you have a better idea, I'd be glad to hear it," she said. "I don't want to leave, either."

He was silent for a minute. "We deny everything," he said. "Not all the Death Eaters know who I am. The Dark Lord made sure that we didn't all know each other. Some of the others will flee. Some will talk, but we have a good reputation. Most people won't believe any of it, if I deny the allegations."

"It seems that you're leaving a lot to chance," Narcissa replied, but she looked a little more hopeful.

"The rest I can take care of. There are some...favors that people owe me."

"This takes a lot of favors," said Narcissa.

Lucius thought for a moment, and then began. "I happen to know that the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is having an affair with his wife's sister. I'll have a word with him about the importance of protecting my reputation.

"Amelia Smith, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister, has been taking various bribes from the Nott family for some time. I'll have a talk with her as well. One of the Aurors in the office has a son with lycanthropy. I can arrange to have Wolfsbane sent each month- completely confidentially, of course.

"Raymond Stoker, on the Wizengamot, has vampire ancestry that I'm sure he wouldn't want to come out. Edmund Hoover, deputy editor of the Daily Prophet, enjoys dressing up in Muggle women's clothing when he thinks that no one can see him.

"And you know Melissa MacDougal, top prosecutor in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "Well, her daughter isn't actually Mr. MacDougal's child. She's Arnold Peasegood's.

"I have a lot of information and a lot of money. We can buy enough favors to keep ourselves above suspicion."

Narcissa nodded. She appeared to be thinking hard. "Do you think it will work?" she asked.

"It will work better than running away," he replied. There was a pause. "Do you agree?" questioned Lucius. Narcissa looked at her husband, then smiled and nodded. He smiled back. He knew the plan would work. After all, a Malfoy is never on the losing side.

Sirius Black was stunned. He was standing, dry eyed, at the front gate of the Potter's house, just as he had many times before. He kicked the gatepost. It shouldn't be possible for anything to be the same as before. The house was in ruins, and smoke rose from the remnants of what had been a happy, safe home. Muggles were already gathering on the scene. Muggle firefighters had tried to put out the fire, but the magical flames had resisted mere water. Ministry officials were on the scene now. They had controlled the flames and were in the process of trying to control curious onlookers, both Muggle and wizard. A voice interrupted Sirius' thoughts.

"Please step behind the barricades, sir... sir?" Sirius ignored the man, and continued to stare into the ashes. It didn't seem fair that Lily and James and Harry were all gone. It was ridiculous that You-Know-Who would kill a baby. It was ridiculous that all that remained were a couple of charred corpses, not even recognizable as those of his friends. He felt helpless. He should have been there, should have been able to do something, anything, to help. Sirius reminded himself that he couldn't take on the most dangerous wizard of all time single-handedly...but he could take on the person who had betrayed James and Lily. He shouldn't have convinced them to make Wormtail the Secret Keeper. He should have seen that he was a traitor. There was nothing he could do to bring his friends back, but he could kill the man who betrayed them.

"Sir, you really need to step behind the barricades."

Sirius dimly recognized that the man was addressing him, but he continued to ignore the voice. Peter might have decided to run by now. He could be anywhere, and Sirius didn't fancy identifying the rats of London one by one. Peter might have gone home, though. The attack had just happened; Peter might not realize that he had to run yet. It was his only chance.

"I'm going to kill you, Peter Pettigrew!" he growled, sounding not unlike his Animagus form.

"What?" cried the startled Ministry official. "You're killing who?"

"Peter Pettigrew!" snarled Sirius, looking at the man for the first time.

"Sir, I have to ask that you report to Ministry officials for questioning-" The man moved as if to reach for his wand, but Sirius was already gone.

--

Remus Lupin was furious. "What did he say?" he asked a weedy looking Ministry official.

"Said he was going to kill someone named 'Peter Perkins', or 'Peter Parker', or something like that." The man looked harried, and he had good reason, as he was on crowd control in front of the Potters' house.

"Pettigrew, you moron, Pettigrew!" shouted Remus. "What are you doing about it?"

The man responded in a dull, almost monotone voice. "I understand that this must be a tough time for you, but please refrain from insulting Ministry employees. The Ministry thoroughly investigates all threats. I'm sure a team is headed over to your friend Mr. Peterson's residence right now to offer him protection."

Remus stared at the man for a moment in confusion, and then exploded. "I'm not worried about Peter you idiot! This mess is all Peter's fault; I'm worried about Sirius! You have to go get Peter before Sirius does something to wind up in Azkaban for the rest of his life! And the name is Pettigrew!"

The man paled. "You're saying that you know who is responsible for this attack?" he asked.

"Yes!" said Remus. "And if you don't do something, my friend is going to do something idiotic and get himself thrown in Azkaban."

The official looked like he was trying to make up his mind about something. "Okay, I'm going to have to ask that you follow me. We'll get all this sorted out."

Remus sighed in relief, but he was still worried. The Ministry wasn't known for its speed. He had lost two friends tonight at the hands of a third, and he didn't know if he could stand losing Sirius as well.

"So, you knew the Potters?" the official inquired as he escorted Remus around the barricades.

"Yes," Remus replied heavily. "Their son just turned one a few months ago, did you know that? I can't believe that You-Know-Who killed even the baby...now they're all gone, and he's still out there. I don't know how much longer this can keep going on."

The man gave Remus a strange look. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to be telling anyone this..." he said, with some hesitation, "but the baby didn't die. The killing curse was used on him, but he didn't die. That's when we think the fire started. And... it really is too soon to verify this, but You-Know-Who is gone without a trace; completely disappeared."

The shock stopped Remus in his tracks. "What?"

--

Peter was terrified. The attack had all gone horribly, horribly wrong. The guilt for Lily and James' deaths was gnawing at him, and, on top of it all, the attack had been an unprecedented failure. He had become a spy to stay alive. Now it seemed he would either be killed by angry Death Eaters or by his former friends. He had gone home as soon as he realized the attack had gone wrong. It was too risky to go to Gringotts and retrieve his gold, but he had some valuables at home that he could sell. He would flee to the continent, or maybe even to the Americas, and live as a Muggle. He had enough items to sell off discretely that he would have a comfortable start. He would obtain a new wand, and with that, he would have a new life somewhere where he could forget his current mess.

A knock sounded at the door, and Peter hurriedly turned out the lights. He winced at that idiotic move. Now whoever was at the door would be sure to know he was inside. He turned and shoved the last couple of items into a trunk, before shrinking it to pocket size. It was his school trunk- the same one that he had brought to Hogwarts in his first year. He winced at the memories the trunk brought back. He was going to have to dispose of it at the first opportunity. The knock came again, more insistently. It sounded like someone was trying to break down the door. Peter reached for the Floo powder, before remembering that the Ministry could redirect him if he traveled via the Floo Network. He doubted that they could already know of his involvement, but it wasn't worth the risk. There was a pause in the hammering on the door, followed by a loud crash. Peter started. It seemed that someone had given up with the pounding and used their wand. He mentally cursed the anti-Apparition wards around his flat. They had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now they were preventing his escape. He froze for a moment as he heard a voice from downstairs.

"Why did you do it, Peter?" Sirius' voice asked in an ominous tone. Peter lunged for the window, forcing it open to look at the ground below. He thought he could make it if he used a charm to slow his fall. "Any of us would have died for you, Wormtail!" There was a definite note of hysteria in the voice now. "I know you're here; come out and face me! Face me like the Gryffindor you never were!" Peter was stepping up to the windowsill when he heard Sirius' voice directly behind him. "Got you."

Peter turned to find Sirius's wand aimed directly at his heart. "S-Sirius, w-what are you doing here?"

"Don't play innocent with me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sirius," said Peter, with a reasonable impression of confusion.

"Then why are you halfway out a window, Wormtail? Why are you reaching for your wand right now?"

Peter froze, his eyes darting this way and that. "I-I was afraid," he replied. "I heard about Lily and James. If the Dark Lord c-could get to them, then none of us are safe."

"YOU WERE THEIR SECRET KEEPER!" Sirius yelled. He took a few deep breaths. "They trusted you- we all did- and now they're dead."

"Are you going to k-kill me, Sirius?" asked Peter.

Sirius hesitated, and then raised his wand a little from where it had been drooping by his side. "Yes," he said, "but first you're going to tell me why you did it."

There was a shout from the living room. Sirius turned his head, distracted, and Peter seized the opportunity to reach for his wand. He summoned the words necessary for his transformation, only to have the wand fly out of his hand.

The room was flooded with light as an Auror entered, his own wand lit, and Peter's wand in his hand. "Please place both your hands where we can see them," he ordered, "both of you!" Sirius still had his wand aimed at Peter. "Sir, drop your wand or I will be forced to take it myself."

Sirius didn't move a muscle. "You try to curse me, and I kill him," was his only reply.

More Aurors were in the room now. "Drop your wand, Mr. Black, we can take over from here."

"You'll excuse me if I don't trust the Ministry unconditionally," said Sirius, a hint of sarcasm replacing some of the hysteria in his voice. "And how do you know who I am, anyway?"

"Because I told them!" exclaimed Remus, pushing past the Aurors as he moved into the room.

"Moony, what are you even doing here?" Sirius sounded more resigned then surprised.

"I got worried when you rushed off. I followed you to Lily and James's house, only to find that you'd gone off chasing him." He nodded his head towards Peter. "He's not worth this."

"He betrayed them," growled Sirius.

"I've lost two friends tonight. I also found out that he-" Remus pointed agitatedly at Peter, "has never been our friend. I can't lose you, too. Don't throw your life away, Sirius; James wouldn't want it."

Sirius stood still for a moment, and then slowly lowered his wand and stepped back. Aurors rushed in from every side to grab Peter. Remus and Sirius ignored them. They stood together in the center of the chaos as Sirius finally broke down in tears.

--

As they had no idea how long of a wait they were in for, Remus bustled about the kitchen making tea. Sirius sat at the table with his head bowed. He hadn't said a single thing since the Aurors had taken Peter away to the Ministry. After putting the kettle on, Remus approached Sirius carefully and smoothed his long hair.

"You know everything will be fine. With our testimonies, not to mention Dumbledore's, Peter will be sent to Azkaban," Remus said reassuringly.

"He killed Lily and James, Remus. He deserves so much worse than Azkaban."

"No, Sirius. Voldemort killed Lily and James. Peter was just a source of information that Voldemort was able to exploit. I know it's hard, but we have to be strong. We have to be strong for Harry, Sirius." The teakettle whistled, and Remus stood to retrieve it.

"They would have wanted us to take care of Harry, don't you think, Remus?" Sirius asked.

Remus poured the hot water into two large mugs before responding. "I'm sure they're watching over us right now. We'll make our mistakes, but no one could possibly love Harry as much as we do," Remus said as he placed a mug in front of Sirius.

Sirius looked up gratefully and smiled, but his eyes were wet. Remus reached across the table and covered Sirius' hand with his own. Just then, the roar of a motorcycle was heard from outside. "I must have left my motorcycle when I went to confront Peter. I never even thought about it," Sirius said.

"That may have been a fortunate oversight." Someone began knocking on the front door. Remus hurried to it. "Is that you, Hagrid?"

"It's me, but I can' stay," the voice said from the other side of the door. Remus quickly opened it and welcomed Hagrid warmly. Sirius stepped up and took the small bundle from Hagrid's large hand. "Lily an' James wouldn't have wanted 'im with anyone else. I'd bes' be off, but I'll be back soon." Hagrid's voice was gruff, and Remus saw him surreptitiously brush away a tear as he went back into the night.

Sirius held Harry's blanketed form close to his chest as he walked around the kitchen. Remus couldn't help but smile as Sirius rocked Harry gently. Wrapping an arm around Sirius' waist, Remus looked down at the sleeping face of the newest member of their family. Sirius leaned into Remus and they both admired the child that fate had bestowed upon them.

"I can't believe how much everything has changed," Sirius said.

"Neither can I, Sirius." Remus gently brushed Harry's hair away from his forehead. A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt stood out starkly against his skin. "Neither can I."