The Beginning of the End

As he tore up the stairway to the Headmasters' office, he realised it felt exactly as though he were back in school again. For a moment, he stopped and wondered what he had done wrong this time, and if there would be a detention for it; and then he remembered.

'Lily, you ok?' he called over his shoulder.

'Yes, fine; or at least I would be if you'd stop charging up the stairs like that... Honestly, we're back five minutes and you start acting as though you're fifteen again.' Lily's voice snapped in the darkness.

James sniggered. 'Oh you wish... All the charm and sophistication I had at that age? Why, I bet you're quite annoyed that we're not back...'

He felt a sharp swat on the back of his head. 'You were the most arrogant and pig-headed boy I ever had the misfortune to know... If they hadn't seen past that, and let you join the Order which, thankfully, did you the world of good... Then dear lord! I dread to think what you'd have become...'

'Lily! I take umbrage at that statement!' James gasped, in mock-indignation. 'There was no way I was any worse than Sirius.'

'Sirius had a reason! You did not, you were just a spoilt brat... Anyway we're here now, so shut up and look smart.' Lily began to brush at her husband's robes, and attempted to make his unruly hair lay flat.

After squirming away from her batting, James knocked on the large door before them. Immediately, the door sprung open and the two entered, looking around the room with childish enthusiasm. Lily gazed about her in wonder, waving to the many portraits of past headmasters past whilst James sauntered over to the large red and gold bird near the doorway.

'Alright, Fawkesy? How's life been treating you?' he asked the phoenix. Fawkes gave a low trill in response, before shuffling on his perch.

'Good afternoon, Mr and Mrs Potter,' said a voice full of amusement. Lily and James composed themselves instantly, turning to their addresser.

'Professor Dumbledore! What a treat this is, and how might you be on this pleasant afternoon?' James called cheerfully, as he reverted to the act of a schoolboy attempting to avoid punishment.

'Mr Potter, please believe that you are not here to be reprimanded.' Dumbledore smiled softly, having heard that tone of voice many times before. 'Now, would you please care to take a seat, I-'

He was suddenly interrupted, however, by a high squeal. 'Frank! Alice! What are you doing here?' Lily cried, when she noticed that they were not the only guests. She threw her arms around Alice Longbottom, her former classmate whom she had not seen for two years.

'Oh Lily dear, I'm so happy to see you! How's the baby? I had my first full night of sleep last night: it was heaven!' gasped Alice with a smile that filled her whole, rather round, face.

Lily beamed with delight. 'Harry's wonderful, thanks. We're having a little trouble with his feeding, but nothing to worry about...'

'Ahem.'

They all looked up from their reunion, to notice that the Headmaster was wearing a warning expression. 'As pleasant as this talk of babies is, I am afraid that it will have to wait until later. I do have some rather pressing news.'

Guiltily, the four guests made themselves comfortable in the plush, high-backed chairs that the headmaster had provided. For a moment, Professor Dumbledore merely seemed to appraise the four, before he sighed heavily, 'Pear drop, anyone?' From the looks of revulsion upon each face, it was obvious that this offer appealed to no one.

'No? Very well,' Dumbledore continued. 'I thought the sweetness would perhaps ease the information I must relay to you...' At these words, the guests all began to shift uneasily in their seats.

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at those before him. 'As you may be aware, the Ministry has deemed it important that pupils at Hogwarts study the art of Divination. I fail to see why, as the future is such a complex and intricate subject...' The Headmaster paused, and gave a small frown. 'Regardless of my thoughts, the Ministry stressed its importance, and so it was that I advertised for the position of Divination Teacher.'

James snorted in disbelief. 'Let me guess, every single one of them was a phoney, fake or a fraud?'

'Rather an accurate evaluation, Mr Potter,' smiled Dumbledore. 'I did seem to spend many an afternoon in the company of well meaning, although... Shall we say, under-educated psychics, none of whom I could foresee teaching the delightful students we have here.

'It came to a point where I was thoroughly intent on sending a rather strongly worded letter to the Ministry, stating that this subject was moot, and I could not see how we could possibly introduce it without a professor. Alas, I had barely crossed the last T and dotted the final I, when in swooped a huge Skeet-Owl, who dropped a final application onto my desk. Resolving to be fair, and see all those interested in the position, I agreed to meet the aspirant at the Hogs Head. An odd choice, I thought, but then, what is odd to one person is entirely normal to another.'

At this, Frank Longbottom barely managed to disguise a snigger, which earned him a sharp glare from his wife. James discovered what was so amusing moments later, when he followed the direction of Frank's eyes. It seemed as though Dumbledore had been in a rush to greet his guests, as a pair of blue striped pyjamas were poking out from underneath his burgundy robes.

Ignoring this momentary lapse in concentration, Dumbledore resumed his speech. 'Two nights ago, I set out to meet the applicant. It was terribly cold, and the rain was like none before seen in Hogsmeade. I expect I would have almost drowned if it were not for numerous water-repelling charms. I arrived around ten o clock, and was shown immediately to a room above the bar.' He paused once more, and gave another frown. 'There really is a terrible smell of goat in there... I must recommend a severe scouring charm to the bartender.'

After a slight chuckle, Professor Dumbledore continued to talk. 'Nevertheless, I met with the aspirant, and even as we spoke, I knew the quest for a professor was too great. Even though they were a relative, although I must say very distantly, of a very gifted seer, they clearly did not possess the ability of second sight. Or so I thought.

'I turned to leave; thoughts of escaping the deluge outside consumed my brain when my acquaintance began to speak in an extremely odd voice. She said-'

'Aha!' interjected Lily her vivid green eyes burning with curiosity. 'So it's a woman then? Quite the little mystery your acquaintance is, isn't she?'

Alice nodded her head in agreement. 'Yes, Professor, you're telling us a story yet leaving out one of the main characters? Where's the sense in that?'

'It wasn't a Death Eater, was it, sir?' Frank asked with a hint of suspicion.

All of a sudden an intricate wheel-shaped silver contraption that sat on Dumbledore's desk began to whirl around. It spun faster and faster, omitting a slight screech as it did so. Then suddenly it stopped. A smoky image of a skull with a snake in its mouth began to creep noiselessly out from a small hole in the centre. It hovered for a few seconds, transfixing everyone in the room, before disappearing into nowhere.

Immediately, Dumbledore stood and rushed over to Fawkes. A huge power radiated from the Headmaster, as his eyes flashed with pure anger. It was here that James fully understood why people often said that he was the only one Voldemort ever feared. He slunk as far back into his chair as were possible, as the professor's fury dazzled him. With a slight relief, he saw that his companions were doing the same.

After listening to the whispering into its ear for a few seconds, the phoenix disappeared with a cry and a bang. Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, before returning to his relatively calm state and returning to sit in his regal chair.

Dumbstruck, the Potters and the Longbottoms exchanged looks that clearly read, 'what-was-that-all-about?' James shifted slightly in his seat, giving a small cough as he did so.

'Erm, Professor... Why did that dark mark just fly out of one of your silvery objects?' Any eloquence that James may previously have had went straight out the window as he spoke.

After closing his eyes for a second time, Dumbledore began to speak once more. However he chose to ignore James' question. 'Mr Longbottom, your previous statement troubles me on so many levels. One: that you believe that I would ever consider having social relations with the enemy; and another reason that will become obvious in a moment.' He broke off, and stared into space for a second, before standing up with a start.

He strode purposely towards a small cabinet, which was on the wall adjacent to the door. The cabinet-door gave a squeak in protest at being opened, and Dumbledore withdrew a shallow stone basin.

'The Pensieve?' questioned James, who had accidentally fallen into it during fourth year whilst waiting to be punished. 'Why?

Ignoring this question, the Headmaster set the bowl gently on his desk before taking his seat once more. 'The woman's voice became deep and low, quite the contrary to that of a moment ago. I knew then, that this woman was indeed a true seer.'

He picked up his wand, and poked it into the swirling mist within the Pensieve. As he did, a small but unmistakable figure rose upwards.

Frank's dark blonde head snapped up in surprise. 'Wait a minute! Isn't that-?'

'Sybil Trelawney? Well, no wonder you wouldn't tell us who it was!' spat Alice.

As comprehension dawned upon him, James' eyes widened in surprise. 'That idiot Hufflepuff, who would sneak up on people in the corridors telling you that you had an hour to live?'

At this, Lily rounded on her husband. 'James, honestly, she wasn't that bad! A bit insensitive perhaps, but I wouldn't call her an idiot...'

'Oh yeah? She told you that two of your brothers would catch the measles and die from it slowly,' sneered James in disgust. 'The look on her face was priceless when I told her that there would be a bit of a problem with her prediction, considering you didn't actually have any brothers!'

The Longbottoms guffawed at this, and even Lily could not resist a smile as she remembered that particular incident. However, this only lasted until each saw the seriousness of the look that Dumbledore was giving them, and they all shrank back into their seats as far as possible once more.

'I really cannot express the importance of this meeting. I ask you to listen, and listen well, as I do not dare repeat what Ms Trelawney said any more than is necessary.' All of those assembled began to feel apprehensive, though they did not know why.

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'

A stunned silence resounded around the room, as the glassy, spinning figure of Trelawney sank back into the depths of thought.

'OK...' James sighed, as he ruffled his hair. 'What the hell was that all about?'

For once, Lily did not chastise her husband; instead, she wore a look of deep contemplation that was mingled with a slight confusion. Alice too looked thoughtful, yet Frank appeared irritated and could clearly be heard muttering under his breath, 'Dark Lord, I'll give you Dark bloody Lord... Piece of filth... The Dark Lord my arse...'

Dumbledore watched the proceedings, ignoring James' question once again. He seemed to be waiting- for an answer perhaps, or a clue. For the prophecy puzzled him greatly, and wise as he was, he could not determine any more than the basic facts.

After a few more minutes of silence and befuddlement, Dumbledore concluded that the four, who were barely out of their teens, had had long enough to grasp the idea of the prophecy.

'As you may be able to tell, there is every reason to believe that this is a legitimate, yet highly dangerous, prophecy.'

'Why's it dangerous Albie - er, I mean Professor Dumbledore, sir?' James asked, slipping into the schoolboy slang he had once shared with his friends. Lily gave a loud tut, and shifted restlessly in her seat as though itching to answer the question. Instead, she left it to the Headmaster, who looked extremely grave.

'Do you not see, James? This prophecy speaks of that which the wizarding world has come to think near impossible, something so great yet so terrifying at the same time.'

James stared at the headmaster without understanding, for he was the type of wizard who did not apply logic and common sense to a problem, unless it was of the practical joke variety.

The Headmaster sighed determinedly. 'It speaks, of the downfall of Lord Voldemort.'

Everyone assembled in the room gave a great flinch at the sound of the name. When it was spoken, thoughts and memories too painful to think of in general life came flooding back.

'Come off it,' snorted Frank. 'Never heard anything more ridiculous.'

Everyone gave murmurs of agreement at this. None of those assembled could even begin to imagine the Dark Lord's downfall, yet here was Professor Dumbledore, claiming to have the very thing that suggested it.

James had to concur with Frank. 'As much as I want to believe that, and my god I don't think there is any one who wants his downfall more than we all do,' he looked around at his wife and the Longbottoms, who all nodded their heads in consensus. 'I just can't see it... I mean, he's stronger than he's ever been before, is there truly a witch or wizard alive who could duel him, and actually win?'

There was a note of urgency in James' voice; he desperately wanted Dumbledore to confirm this, to give the wizarding world some sort of hope.

Dumbledore stared at the empty phoenix perch for a full minute, before finally lifting his gaze. Though many wizards had lived longer than he, not one of those had suffered anything close to his burdens, and so it was that he looked wearier than ever. 'There are some in the magical community who believe that I could quite easily defeat Voldemort in my sleep, even though I would never be so foolhardy as to consider it true. And so I would say no, there is no living witch or wizard who could, at this moment in time, defeat Voldemort in a duel.'

There was a collective sigh of sadness. Although always understood that this was the case, hearing it spoken aloud filled their hearts with dismay. James gulped. 'But then why are we here? I thought you wanted to put a crack squad together, to go off and fight-'

A sudden gasp from his right startled him, and his eyes flew around to see a look of pure horror upon Lily's pretty face. 'Professor... that prophecy, it spoke of... of someone who would be able to defeat him. The one with powers the Dark Lord knows not?' She swivelled around in her chair, torrents of fiery hair swirling about her. She stared intently at Alice and Frank for a moment, before twisting her head around to her husband with a jerk. James was astonished to see that Lily had tears in her eyes. 'Would I be correct in thinking that when it says 'will be born', it is not speaking in future terms?'

Dumbledore met Lily's eyes sorrowfully. An intense sigh was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. The tears began to fall freely now. 'Born in the seventh month, to parents who have defied him previously?'

The Headmaster nodded slowly and silently. Lily let out a great sob. 'Professor, please; there must be some other way,' she begged.

Knowing that something was terribly wrong, James pulled his wife close to himself, where she began to cry loudly into his shoulder.

'I am afraid, Lily, that this seems how it will end,' said Dumbledore gravely. At this, James felt Lily move closer to him, as though trying to drown out the headmaster's words.

'Oh, dear God!' gasped Alice, as she realised what Lily had meant. 'No, no... Absolutely not. I will not let Neville get mixed up in something like this.'

Frank turned to stare at his wife. 'What on earth's Neville got to do with anything?'

'It has everything to do with Neville!' Alice breathed. 'Harry too. Oh, this is bad... this is awful.'

James finally began to understand what everything meant. A great convulsion ran through him, and he slowly let go of Lily. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though praying that his suspicions were not true, before turning to look at his companions. James saw a similar look of pure terror upon Frank Longbottom's face.

With a steely determination in his mind, he looked up at his old professor and sighed doggedly. 'I think you need to explain all of this, Albus.'

'I am afraid that is impossible,' he whispered. When he saw the look on James face, he continued. 'Because there are many parts that are, presently, unexplainable.'

'Like what?' asked James harshly, for he was entirely unconvinced.

The Headmaster briefly looked towards an old portrait near the cabinet where the Pensieve belonged. The man in it, whilst very official-looking, seemed far too 'Slytherin' for James' liking. It was probably the snake around his neck and the large snaked house badges upon his robes that gave off this impression, or perhaps it was the fact that he was sneering profoundly in the Potters' direction.

'Phineas, would you be kind enough to listen for certain information in the House of Black? It is of utmost importance.' James wondered whom the Headmaster was addressing, before he realised it was the sneering-man. Dumbledore spoke to the portrait once more, although this time with a heavy warning lacing his voice. 'Oh, and it would be wise to remember the Headmaster's code.'

The man in the portrait sighed with disrespect, before sulking out of his frame. When he spoke his voice was slimy, and not the sort to easily gain trust. 'Yes professor. Anything for you, professor.'

'Whilst many would consider it a risk to send a Black antecedent to spy on his descendants, I feel it an important obligation,' muttered Dumbledore to himself.

The others watched, partly with wonder and partly with disbelief. Here they were, facing the biggest revelation of their lives, and Dumbledore was holding conversation with a portrait? James took indignation at this. 'Professor, as much as I regret to tear you away from you tête-à-tête with Sirius' bastard ancestor, can you please spare five minutes to explain what this whole sorry mess is about?'

He expected a harsh reprimand from his wife at this outburst, but none came. Instead, both she and the Longbottoms gazed steadily at the headmaster; words were not needed for them to prompt Dumbledore.

The aged professor sat upright in his opulent chair, bony veined hands gripping the arms. Tapping his fingers along the left armrest, Dumbledore looked at each guest in turn with an appraising stare. Eventually he spoke, 'you must be aware that everything that has been said in this room must remain within these walls. Nothing spoken or heard must ever be repeated, without my permission. Can you promise me that?'

With Lily taking the lead, having paused in her sobs for the time being, though silent tears still swept down her cheeks, the four slowly but determinedly nodded their heads in oath. The sadness behind the Headmasters eyes seemed to lift for a second, thought James, though when he looked a moment later the sorrow had returned in great quantities.

The headmaster rested his elbows on the desk before him, and steepled his hands as he surveyed the visitors. 'Very well,' Dumbledore sighed. 'As I mentioned earlier, this prophecy speaks of Voldemort's downfall', he paused for the obligatory flinch at the sound of the enemy's name. 'Not only that, it also informs us of he- for the prophecy states quite clearly that it will be male- who will cause it.

'And I see with great pain, that you have your suspicions as to who this person will be. You are not wrong.'

His emotions did not change throughout his speech; instead he looked fixedly at the four as he awaited a fresh outcry. Instead each let out a soft sigh, whilst James pulled his wife ever closer. This can't be true, he thought, it just can't.

Frank shifted uneasily in his seat, as his chair groaned with his weight. 'So, you're saying that Neville and Harry can kill You-Know-Who?' He paused, letting his statement sink in. 'That has to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.'

Dumbledore examined Frank over the top of his spectacles for a moment. 'And why is that so, Mr Longbottom?'

'Because they are kids- babies, even! They're both 8 months old, for Christ's sake! What are they going to do, attack him with soiled nappies?' Frank asked with exasperation.

James failed in his attempt to disguise a laugh, turning it into the type of cough a car would make when it refuses to start.

'Frank, if you're not going to say anything sensible, then kindly shut up so the rest of us can hear this news- which is so obviously screaming with importance!' Alice looked murderously at her husband; rage spilling out of her vivid blue eyes. After a moment, she sat tensely back in her chair, and motioned for the headmaster to continue.

Dumbledore watched this exchange with mild interest, his thoughts seemingly on another plain. 'Thank you, Alice,' he mumbled. After sighing for the umpteenth time, Dumbledore spoke once again. 'It is indeed my belief that this prophecy states who has the power to rid the world of Voldemort's threat. Furthermore, I also believe that it is either Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom of which the prophecy speaks.'

With pain in her eyes, Lily looked pleadingly towards the wizened Professor. 'But why? What makes you so sure that it is either Neville or Harry? They can't have been the only two boys born in July! And what makes you think it is that specific July that the prophecy speaks about?'

James gripped Lily's hand tightly; his head swam with all the new information he was trying to process. Not trusting himself to talk, James took a deep breath and stared decidedly at Dumbledore, waiting for his explanation.

Dumbledore appeared to find a splodge of ink on his desk exceptionally interesting, and so he spoke instead to that. 'I am afraid that that Harry and Neville certainly are the only two wizard boys to be born in this specific July.'

The four waited for Dumbledore to continue with his explanation, but when he remained silent, Lily quietly repeated her earlier phrase. 'And what makes you think it is that specific July that the prophecy speaks about?'

Continuing to gaze determinedly at the ink-spot, his chest rising and falling deeply, the Headmaster gave no sign that he was about to explain his thoughts.

Even through his confusion, James realised what an incredible sight this was. Here, probably the worlds most respected wizard was acting like a five-year-old child who would not admit to sneaking the last squares of chocolate. 'Answer the lady's question, if you would Professor,' said James imperiously.

With all pairs of eyes upon him, Dumbledore knew he must speak. It was the knowledge of what he must present to those before him that had so far held his tongue.

After a heated silence lasting no more than a few seconds, Dumbledore snapped up his head, and began to pour out his words quickly and resolutely so that his unusual nerve would not get the better of him. 'It is this specific July that the prophecy speaks of, for when Madame Trelawney first told it, there was, unbeknown to us at that moment in time, a foe listening at the door. I have received news both yesterday and this morning that this information has been passed to the very person we do not want to discover it!'

With a collective gasp, each mother and father knew what the Headmaster meant. The realisation flooded them, and the fear gripped them.

'You-Know-Who? He knows?'

It was a woman's voice who said this, James knew that much. But whether it was Lily, or Alice, or perhaps a vagrant passing through that Head's office, he couldn't tell.

Fully roused from his stupor now, Dumbledore talked with energy not seen from him since his youth. 'He does know. However, and herein lies our biggest chance at victory, I have been informed by a reliable source that he does not know the full prophecy. He knows who it is that could defeat him, but he doesn't know how or why it may happen. This is our great advantage.'

The Headmaster began to stand, for what reason the four would never know- for at that moment there was a loud bang, and together with a huge golden phoenix feather was a small piece of parchment that landed swiftly on the professor's desk. After taking one look at the parchment, a series of emotions appeared on Dumbledore's face. Eventually, one of unyielding power settled as he turned to the Potters and the Longbottoms.

'I have received information that requires my presence elsewhere. I must ask for you all to remain here in my office; I will return soon.'

Before anyone could protest, or question his motives, Dumbledore had stepped towards the fireplace and taken some powder from a nearby jar. With a whoosh of ashes, the quartet were left alone and extremely mystified.