Fugitive Prince

Fugitive Prince

By March Madness

"I suppose that depends on how you look at it," Meg said. "Usually no matters what happens people think it's my fault, even if I have nothing to do with it at all. But I'm sorry I tried to fight him. It's just been an awful week. And I'm full of bad feeling."

Mrs. Murry stroked Meg's shaggy head. "Do you know why?"

"I

hate being an oddball," Meg said.

A Wrinkle In Time

, Madeleine L'Engle

Chapter VIII

Harry had grown up for the first nine years of his life nine years of his life with an overpowering sense of foreboding that hung over him. At times, he could almost forget it as he played with his father, as he was rocked in his mother's arms or as he spent times with the Death Eaters friends. But just as there were times when he could almost forget about the feeling, there were times when he felt like he was drowning in shadowy fears.

"You really need to be happier," his mum had chided him playfully during one of those times when he crawled up to her and clung to her legs. She picked him up, holding him to her hip and did a little dance around their kitchen, freeing all his fears. When he started to laugh, she smiled and flicked his nose with one of her nails. "See? If you're happy, you don't have time to be scared."

Days after that, she'd caught sight of him playing wizarding chess with a Death Eater and had his father looking for a new home.

The first nine years had also been shrouded in secrecy. Harry never asked questions, never wondered why they always moved. Once, they had just moved into a beautiful hotel, planning on staying a few days while touring Europe and as his mum and dad were walking in a man came running up with the angriest look on his face.

"James! Is that you?" the man demanded, grabbing dad's arm.

Dad glared at the man and yanked his arm back. "Excuse me, sir, but I--" Then he stopped, face going pale. "Mitchell? Mitchell Flout?"

Mitchell sneered and stepped back. "Well, you're looking well." Mitchell, on the other hand, was missing his left arm.

"My gosh, Mitchell, what happened?"

"What, this?" The man waved the stump that ended his arm where his hand should've been. "Or this?" He pointed to the multiple scars mutating his face and torso. "The war, James.

The war you've been avoiding!"

Mum had brought him inside but the yelling seemed trapped in his head for days afterwards. He had been the full age of five or so at the time, old enough to recognize hate but too young to understand exactly what had happened. War? What war? There was no war going on, no fighting or dying or crying. Not in his world. No, his world was perfect--small, but perfect.

His world consisted of four consistencies and a whirlpool of chaos. First and foremost, his parents loved him and nothing could change that. Then there was Remus, who'd always be there if his mum and dad weren't. And the people in dark cloaks who hid their faces but who were his friends, his friends that his parents didn't like. The last consistency was that as soon as someone saw his friends, or something like what happened at that hotel happened, the family would move. Nothing else came into Harry's world, nothing else bothered him and for him, that was enough.

The chaos came in many faces: people coming up to his parents, obviously old friends or at least acquaintances who often started loud fights; wizards and witches walking around in broad daylight, too hurt and broken to give a rat's tail what the muggles thought; late-night lessons with mum about magic or early-morning flying sessions with dad. There were also times when Harry was shaken awake late at night to be pulled from his house, taken away in his mother's arms while a horrible screeching noise slowly became overwhelming. Those nights were marked by burning skies tattooed with green marks and screams... screams that never let the living alone.

Dad would always stay behind and sometimes mum would hide Harry then go back to help but rarely did that happen because she loved him too much, the first consistency of his life. Each morning after, when Harry awoke to find himself in a strange hotel or motel, when Harry awoke to hear his parents whispering in another room, he'd see the tell-tell signs of a battle in the hurting wounds of his father, but never did it connect those battles with the war that the people often spoke of when they began to yell.

His life was shrouded in secrecy; Harry never asked questions because after awhile he realized he wasn't getting answers. The moving and constant hiding became the last consistency and he never questioned it afterwards. He never knew why sometimes mum and dad got called away because Remus would never tell him why--the times Remus could come at all.

The first time Harry had been left alone for the night while his parents got called away left him with nightmares for days after. The kitchen floor creaked because someone was trying to sneak in, the tree branch that always hit the window was really the sound of an evil demon trying to break the glass, dripping water from the leaky facet was a signal for the evil man, the evil man without a name that his parents always whispered about, it was a signal for the man that Harry was alone and vulnerable.

It was during that first time alone that Harry truly came to accept the Death Eaters, as his parents called them, as a consistency because halfway through the night, when he was crying to himself beneath his bed, they came in and comforted him. From then on until the night his parents died, they'd come in whenever Harry was left alone or left alone with Leo, comforting Harry and chasing away the nightmares.

Their betrayal of him was worse than a slap in the face for a crime he didn't do. He'd never trust them again. He'd never trust anyone as well again.

Remus. The second consistency but not as consistent as Harry needed him to be. The man who came in the days to joke with his parents, who always found them when they moved, who always made Harry smile. The man who sent candy, who was there for every birthday with something special, who was always so tired but never too tired. The man who's secret Harry had discovered one night, the curse of the werewolf. The man who sometimes couldn't come, who sometimes wasn't there, who sometimes fell asleep when he was supposed to be watching Harry, letting the scary noises become demons again.

The man was his father's best friend but he was also Harry's best friend, whenever he was there. That's why Harry could think of no place else to go. Simply, because as every other consistency became trapped in that whirlpool of chaos, there truly wasn't.

*

"So, tell us again about this prophecy," the hooded Auror started, her quill magically floating, ready to take note of every word the confessing Death Eater was about to utter.

The Death Eater, stripped down to his underwear and shivering violently in the chill of the dank dungeons, nodded eagerly, ready to give up anything for the chance to get away scot-free of his crimes.

"And the Stag will grace the forest fields, battling against the night and day..."

"That's all very well and good but I'm afraid that you're going to have to give me something more," the Auror droned, lifting her hands to check her fingernails. "What good is a useless prophecy?"

"It-it was given by Aberforth."

"And?"

The ex-Death Eater gulped at her apathy and struggled to recall all that he'd heard while in his master's service. "I, I can tell you who the people are, who their son is," he croaked.

She sat up, instantly alert but still managing an unconcerned air. "You'll have evidence, of course?"

He nodded.

"Good. So speak."

"It's, it's the Potters, James and Lily-"

"What am I concerned about traitors?" she shot out.

But he shook his head. "They're not traitors, but they are those mentioned, the 'stag' and 'flower.'"

"Explain." So he did and Rita Skeeter, listening under the hood of an Auror's mask, smiled triumphantly. The Potters were already being given the credit of being Voldemort's downfall and it this pathetic goon's words were true, then that Potter kid was about to be made history.

*

Harry woke up, dreading what he'd find. The past few days, waking up hadn't brought anything good to the world. His legs and arms ached from running all day and the night's sleep didn't seem to have helped him any. He still felt dead tired and wanted nothing more than to go straight back to sleep. And so he rolled over, planning on doing just that.

Leo was laughing somewhere, making Harry nearly jump out of bed.

'Where am I? Where's Leo? What's happened?'

His brain spun and his vision blurred as he stood up, making him clutch at the bed he'd just stood from, holding a hand to his forehead. He started towards the door but exhaustion hit and he promptly fainted.

His mum was waiting for him but even as she stood still, she got farther and farther away, pulled away by an invisible torrent. "Harry, you're taking too long," her ghostly voice called to him. Abruptly, she changed, melting down to a flower that beckoned to him with its petals. "You're taking too long."

"Come on son," a stag was telling him, pushing at him with its antlers. "It's time to go. It's time to go."

"Ok," he replied, sounding like he stood at a great distance. His arms waved, leaving ripples in the murky air. "I'm coming." A great wolf bounded by, nipping at Harry's fingers until Harry fell to the ground, becoming a wolf himself and chasing the other away. The air trembled and broke away with his change, leaving an empty space that sucked in the air.

"Wait for me!" he called but the wolf ran away, leaping into the air to disappear.

A crying drew his attention but every time he turned, he only faced himself, a darker version that smirked at his struggling. This other self drew forward and slapped his cheek.

"Wake up, brother." The reflection changed and instead of green eyes, it had golden ones. Its face shrunk until it had become Leo, crying for his mother. Harry leaned over and picked the baby up but Leo only fell apart, ashes drifting away into the darkness that had consumed everything else. Harry watched the ashes float away and fell to his knees, crying.

*

Remus ran a shaking hand through his hair, looking into the darkened room and seeing no change in the sleeping child resting there. He walked in and carefully tucked the blankets closer to Harry, noting with concern that Harry was shaking in his sleep, little tears coming from his eyes. "Harry?"

Harry sniffed and rolled over, still asleep. Remus wiped the tears away as he sat on the bed's edge, watching his best friend's son and wondering what had happened. Harry whimpered and rolled into a ball but still slept so Remus let his hand drift beside Harry's face for a moment before leaving, keeping the door a crack as he went back downstairs.

Leo was having a blast, obviously having recovered his energy from his sleep and using that newly recovered energy to drive Remus insane. The werewolf smiled but ducked as Leo sent a small creature, a stuffed unicorn, flying his way.

"Hey!" Remus made a face that sent Leo spiraling into another fit of laughter.

"Moo-y, hunwy," Leo complain, patting at his stomach.

"Hungry, are you?" Remus asked, scooping Leo up and heading towards the kitchen. Leo nodded seriously. "Well, why don't we go find something for you to eat?"

After breakfast (a jar of warm baby food) Leo yawned and wiped at his eyes, getting tired from eating so much. Remus smiled again and walked upstairs, rocking Leo as he opened the door and placed him down beside his sleeping brother. "Now, go to sleep," he ordered, shaking a finger. "And don't wake up Harry." He didn't need to worry because Leo rolled next to his big brother and popped a thumb in his mouth, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

Remus checked up on Harry worriedly but he was still sleeping so Remus left the two Potters to sleep, walking back downstairs.

*

Harry woke again, stretching slightly and shaking his head to get rid of the strange dreams. A weight against his side was Leo, curled up against him. Harry smiled wearily, brushing some thick black strands of hair away from Leo's eyes. On the bed stand he found his glasses, putting them on as the door opened.

Remus walked in, looking stressed and tired but when he saw Harry, the werewolf brightened. "Harry, you're awake."

Harry nodded, yawning and wiping the sand from his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just before lunch, actually," the werewolf joked, sliding a chair up beside the bed. "How was your sleep? You nearly missed out on my special." Harry looked down at his hands. "Harry, what happened? How'd you get here?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Harry blurted out. "But there was no where else to go and-"

"No, you didn't wake me Harry," Remus cut in gently. Harry didn't look up. "How'd you get that scar?"

Harry shrugged, absently bringing his hand up to rub against his marred skin. His green eyes fazed up a moment as he recalled the Death Curse, racing towards him, brushing against his skin, trying to suck his soul out before simply vanishing. "I don't know. Maybe I fell."

Remus looked unconvinced and for a moment Harry was afraid the werewolf would start sprouting out the 'dark magic caused that' speech that Fletcher guy had, but instead he just repeated,"What happened? Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"WHAT!"

Leo gave a soft cry, curling his legs beneath the blankets and Remus continued in a quieter voice. "Harry?"

"A-a few days ago," Harry explained softly, tonelessly. "W-we were looking for a new house and got attacked. Peter was there-"

"Peter!"

Harry nodded and looked up for the first time, eyes showering pain. "No one else knows," he whispered. "They don't care either. I heard them saying they found out about the attack, but they don't think it's really important and-"

"Shh," Remus reached over and grabbed Harry in a hug. "Harry, it's... oh..." A soft wetness hit Harry's head and he realized that Remus was crying even as his own tears wetted his cheeks. In a heartless voice, Harry related that night's events, changing it so that it seemed that he and Leo had been outside the house, playing, when the Death Eaters appeared and that he remembered nothing until the next morning, waking in the cold hours and finding his parents dead.

'It's better,' he thought to himself as he sobbed into Remus's arms, releasing all the pain he'd kept inside. 'It's better that no one knows.'

He cried until his eyes were to heavy, his heart too cold, and his body too tired, crying until exhaustion took over again and sent him drifting back into darkness.

"Why did you hit me?" Leo asked, words erupting from his baby lips in adult manner.

Harry sat in a field of red flowers and brown stags, brushing the petals away from his brother. "I didn't hit you."

"Then did I hit you?" Leo asked, getting up and walking with perfect balance to touch Harry's new scar. "No," his voice changed to that of Fletcher's, outside the apartment building. "Only really dark magic could leave something like that. Did you do it yourself? Are you a dark wizard?" His voice changed back ."Why does it look like a lightening bolt?"

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. "But I didn't hit you."

Leo's face darkened and he grew in height until he looked exactly like Harry. "Yes you did!" he yelled. "You were jealous of me! You hate me!"

"No I don't," Harry objected softly, still brushing red flower petals off of his brother's feet. As his hand touched them, the petals broke out into flames, burning the entire field. The stags jumped back and forth, playing jump-rope with the burning flowers that danced in their death. Harry didn't care, he only knew that Leo wouldn't like the flower petals on his feet and he kept brushing them away, brushing them, brushing-

"Avada Kedavra!"

*

Harry blinked his heavy eyes. The heavy draped hanging from the windows had been pulled down, letting the dying sun's rays into the room. Leo was on the floor, playing in a puddle of heavy curtains. He had probably pulled them down himself.

Remus was sitting in the same chair, crying but sadly smiling as Leo played with little toys, reminding the werewolf of his old friend.

Harry watched them for a moment then asked in a soft voice, "Why did they leave us?"

Remus jerked up but shook his head when he saw Harry. "I don't know. But I'm glad-"

"They probably knew it would hurt worse," Harry bit out to himself, getting angry. Leo looked up, sensing his brother's changing moods. "They knew how, how much it hurts to live, remembering that they're dead, knowing that they'll never come back." His eyes shut and his fists clenched the blankets fast. "It hurts, Remus..."

"Don't speak like that Harry," Remus ordered gently, getting up and taking the blankets away, uncurling his fists. "Don't ever think that it's better to die--it isn't."

"But it hurts so much, Remus," Harry sobbed, throwing himself at the werewolf.

Remus bowed his head, arms holding the shaking Harry. "I know," he whispered, voice full of emotion. "I know." Harry felt himself slipping again and fought to stay awake.

"I miss my mum," he murmured drowsily. "And my dad. I really miss them, Remus."

"Shh," Remus pulled away and looked at Harry, wiping the tears away. "I know you do. So do I," and his voice cracked. "You'll probably miss them forever, but they're gone Harry, and you have to let go." He convinced Harry to get something to eat, but decided not to let Harry leave the bed lest he suddenly collapse again.

Remus went downstairs, promising to be right back with something warm to eat, and Harry crawled back into bed. It bounced and Leo crawled in with him, curling back into his side and fingering Harry's wet face in fascination. "Hawy mad?" he asked and Harry shook his head. "Hawy sad? Hawy sad at me?"

"Harry sad," he replied softly, "but not at you, Leo. Harry sad because-"

The doorbell rang and Leo looked up, startled, so Harry started to tickle him, making him screech.

"One second!" Remus called. Leo quieted as Harry stopped, both listening closely. The door opened and Harry immediately recognized the voice of his Auror godfather:

"R-Remus! J-James and Lily," the man was sobbing so loudly that it echoed upstairs. "James-"

Remus murmured something and Harry crouched out of bed, leaning against the door to catch the words. Leo followed with much more noise, poising in a humorous copy of his big brother. "Leo, don't you want to play with your toys?" Harry whispered. Leo looked a moment but went and did as told, picking up his toys and playing with them as Harry went forward, crawling out to the top stairs and listening in on the conversation.

"They found them... at some muggle village," Sirius was muttering, voice deep with mourning. He was collapsed on a couch, hugging a pillow to his chest. "At a muggle village, Remus! I-I didn't even know--they were there for three days before anyone realized who it was-"

"Sirius, calm down-"

"Calm down! Remus, I just realized that my best friend, my two best friends are dead! Dead! And I wasn't there--I was never there--I hadn't seen them for so long. Remus, I hadn't seen them for so long. I planned on it, kept planning on it. I was supposed to go visit them--I even got a sign. Two days ago, I saw Harry and Leo. In Diagon Alley! And I let them go. What if they were ghosts, trying to tell me something? I-"

"Sirius," Remus looked pained and glanced up the stairs but didn't see Harry. "Sirius, please-" But Sirius was back to sobbing silently into his pillow and Remus stood with a sigh. "You need to drink something. Wait right here."

"I was Harry's godfather," the Auror whispered. "But I hadn't seen him--and Leo! He's only a year old. I-" Remus walked out into the kitchen, leaving Sirius to mourn himself.

Harry himself couldn't agree more. What kind of godfather was this man, this Auror? He made up his mind and started walking downstairs, thinking up a thousand words made to hurt, made to make Sirius see how much he missed.

Just as he entered the room, ready to speak, Sirius looked up and paled to the point of being transparent. "J-James?" he whispered. Harry shook his head. "Harry?" Harry nodded but couldn't speak when Sirius nearly flung himself across the room, grabbing Harry in a tight hug. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I swear, I never meant to leave you alone, leave your parents alone."

"I-"

He couldn't speak for the next few minutes as Sirius practically spilled out his soul, begging for forgiveness from what he thought was the ghost of his godson, come back to haunt him. Remus walked in. "Sirius, that's Harry."

"-I just thought that I could help the fight, stop the war-"

"Sirius!"

"-I didn't mean for you to die, Harry-"

"Sirius!" Remus walked up and yanked the man back, freeing a grateful Harry. "Look," he pointed at Harry. "That is Harry, the real Harry. Not a ghost, not a mirage or hallucination."

"Wh-How is that possible?"

"Something happened the night James and Lily died," Remus explained in a shaking voice. "Harry and Leo are fine. They're both here-"

"This, this isn't some sick joke?" Sirius asked.

"No-"

"Harry!" Sirius launched himself at Harry again, grabbing him up in another tight hug. "This is my second chance! This is my chance to prove myself! I swear I'll be a better godfather! I'll do everything for you, you'll never have to worry about anything again. I'll get you a great house, take care of Leo, do the laundry even. I'll never let you out of my sight!"

Harry struggled to get free. "You're going to kill me!" he gasped, grunting with effort. Sirius stopped squeezing and Harry pulled himself away, eyes shaded with mistrust. "And what are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere."

"Harry-"

"No!" Harry shouted, silencing Sirius. He pointed at Remus. "I'm staying with Remus-"

"But I'm your godfather."

"But Remus was always there for me, for my every birthday," Harry reminded harshly.

"I'll be better this time, Harry. I'll get you a new broom for your next birthday, send you on a cruise, take you around the world--whatever you want."

Harry shook his head, arms crossed against his chest. "No."

Sirius's mouth gaped open and he looked between the stubborn Harry to the shocked Remus who obviously didn't expect this latest twist. Finally, he swallowed and announced, "Then I'm staying here, too."

"What?" Remus yelped.

"I can't leave Harry alone," Sirius stated at the now very suspicious Harry. "I'm not going to leave him or Leo again. They're... they're all I have left. Please, Remus."

Remus hesitated but nodded. "Alright."

"But-!" Harry's outcry was cut short as Leo walked out to the top stair and started to cry. Harry left, giving Sirius a look before getting upstairs and shutting the door behind him and Leo.

"What a kid," Sirius muttered wearily, falling back into the couch. He stared up at the ceiling a while before asking, "Was he there, when it happened?"

Remus hesitated again, glancing up the stairs before allowing, "I think so, but he won't tell me. He just says that he was unconscious, waking up to find the battle over."

"I really meant what I said," Sirius choked out. "About meaning to visit them... but there was always another emergency, another situation. This war hasn't been getting any better, Remus, and I was needed."

"I understand that," Remus replied. "But Harry doesn't. James and Lily made it so that Harry didn't have any idea what's been going on. The way he sees it, you were too busy to drop in."

"How were they?" Sirius swallowed. "When you last saw them?"

"Happy," came the short reply. "And still in love, not only with themselves but with their kids." Remus handed Sirius a glass of water, reminiscing.

"They were always so happy," Sirius said drowsily. "Always... but then, they didn't have to deal with all the shit that's happening. Not like I think they were traitors or something-"

"You really think that James and Lily would just abandon us?" Remus scoffed. "No, they were working--undercover and under different names, but working and fighting just the same. That's why Harry can get to stubborn sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, whenever James went on a mission, he usually called me and I watched the kids, but sometimes I couldn't so once Harry got old enough, he was left in charge. Harry's almost completely independent, I think."

"How's Leo? Anything special about him?"

Remus stared at Sirius. "Of course! Both of them are very special, and Leo's pretty smart for his age. Why, you think he's stupid or something?"

"Remus, I didn't mean it that way," Sirius protested. "I didn't mean to sound like some...some...whatever. It's just that... " Cautiously, Sirius described what he could remember of the prophecy he'd heard ten years before, talking of the importance of the second son. "I figured that they were moving around because of that prophecy or something-"

"By the Light," Remus's eyes were wide. "It, it makes sense now. They kept moving because You-Know-Who kept sending Death Eaters over to their house, not to bother them but to watch them. James and Lily didn't take lightly to it-"

"But if they already had their second son, why'd You-Know-Who wait a year?" Sirius asked.

"Probably so he wouldn't have to put up with a baby."

Sirius sat back down onto the couch and sighed. "I really missed a lot, haven't I?"

Remus tossed a pillow at his friend. "Yes, but now you've got a chance not to miss anything anymore."

"Thanks." Sirius said sincerely and the two friends spent the rest of the evening laughing at old jokes, old experiences as the Marauders at Hogwarts, crying at sadder times but getting over their friends' deaths by relieving all the times they'd had together.

*

Leo stopped crying once Harry picked up him, flinging his arms about his older brother.

"Shh." Harry picked up a toy. "Do you want to play?" Leo shook his head fiercely. "Are you hungry?" Another shake. "Tired?" No. "Well, what do you want?"

"Mummy," Leo replied promptly, almost expectantly like he really thought his mother would just appear at his wish.

Harry sighed. "Mum's not here right now."

"Daddy."

"No, he's not here either."

Confused, Leo pulled away and looked into Harry's eyes.

"Why don't you play?" Harry urged. "Maybe," his voice cracked, "maybe they'll come back when you're playing." Leo tilted his head to the side but crawled down and went back to his toys.

Tiredly, Harry went back to his bed, lying down in a position to watch his brother while resting. "No one understands me, do they Leo?" The baby looked up in confusion. "They think... Sirius thinks he can just walk back in here and take me away, like I'm going to trust an Auror."

He stood and walked around, rubbing his neck as his anger worked up. Leo stood up from his toys, watching his brother. Finally, Harry sat back down with another sigh. "Why'd they betray me, Leo?" he asked, pleading for an answer from the year-old. "I-I really thought they were my friends, really thought... really thought that dad was wrong when he said... but he was right."

Harry covered his eyes but found his glasses in the way so he pulled them off, holding them with one hand while the other rubbed his eyes viciously. "I-I should've done more, Leo. It's all my fault--if I had tried to fight Voldemort before, then maybe mum and dad could've gotten away, could've lived. I should've done more," he repeated to himself, lower and slower.

Seeing the glasses, Leo gave a squeal and started for them, plucking them out of Harry's hands to play with. Harry grabbed them back and, in a fit of anger, hurled them across the room with a snarl. They smashed against the wall, shattering and spreading their broken glass along the floor. Harry felt a slight twinge in his scar but ignored it, glaring at the broken glass frames that lay against the wall like a beaten pup.

Leo's cries broke his attention and Harry looked down to see his younger brother, crying loudly in fear, clutching to his legs, blubbering onto the jeans and leaving wet stains. Leo looked up, golden eyes misty with tears, asking 'why did you scare me?'

"Oh Leo, I'm sorry," Harry immediately apologized but Leo was still bawling. "Shh, it's alright. I'm not mad at you." But Leo kept looking back to the broken glass. "Here-"

Harry took out his wand and waved it at the glasses, muttering "Repairo." The glasses curled together, calling back its shattered pieces, and soon were fixed. Harry let out a bark of bitter laughter, realizing just how blind he was, how helpless he was without the things he'd just tried to destroy.

"How weak am I?" he murmured to himself, looking through his blurred vision. "Needing such stupid things? I can't even see without them..."

Leo crawled down and reached out, picking up the glasses with a sniff. His fear turned to fascination and he twirled the frames in a hand, starting to smile again.

"I'm sorry, Leo," he apologized again but the babe was already back to playing, adding the glasses to his collection of toys. Leo paused, however, and looked up to Harry with such a look that Harry almost fell down. "I'm so sorry, and I promise I'll never leave you. I'll make sure that you're happy, that you're life is good even if mine's not. I'll always be here for you Leo."

Leo grinned and held out Harry glasses. "Hawy!"

"I promise."

*

The Minister ran an eye over the upcoming article for the Daily Prophet and looked up at the editor unbelievingly. "You're actually going to publish this... this rubbish?"

"Rubbish?" the editor repeated, shaking his head. "My dear Minister, this is actual prophecy. If you want anymore evidence, you can go ahead and look around--nearly every other Seer in the world is sprouting out this same nonsense, even that old bat down in Hogwarts. And none of them remember a word of it, meaning that not only is this prophecy true, it's about to happen--or already has."

The Minister looked down and reread the paper, face unreadable. "You really think the people are going to believe this?"

"Not only believe it, but many will probably devote themselves to this future 'savior,' as they are already calling him."

"'They' meaning you."

The editor smiled. "Of course. I've also got an ownership on the phrase 'Boy Who Lived.'" The Minster looked back down, obviously fighting an urge to just throw the pre-paper edition away and be rid of the whole matter. "The only reason I came down and showed you this before its release is that you may want to concern yourself with finding this Potter and assure the Ministry's position with him. Send him gifts, bake him a birthday cake--anything that shows that the Ministry will support the people in their beliefs."

"And what happens if this predicted craze suddenly goes away?"

"Then you can quietly back down. But the only way people will stop worshipping this Potter kid straight out is if he suddenly dies or disappears, something that the Ministry should assure will not happen."

The Minister looked down at the paper again then wearily rolled his shoulders. "The Dark has finally fallen and instead of celebrating like I should, I'm sitting in my office talking over financial ties I should make."

"Don't worry about the celebrating," the editor assured him. "Everyone else is doing more than their share. The muggles are going crazy but they'll forget all about the falling stars that came instead of the rain, all about the owls that swooped around like common sparrows, all about the robed people celebrating with drinks and shouts in the middle of the streets-"

"Good lord, tell me that hasn't happened," the Minister groaned.

The editor smiled and comfortingly slapped his old friend on the back. "Don't worry, they'll forget all about it in a month. I said they would and if anyone knows people, it's me."

The Minister rolled his eyes but got up from his desk. "I'll do what you said, about the Potter kid. Our Aurors have already tracked him down to an old werewolf's house and tomorrow, you can go down there with all you little cameras and annoying reporters-"

The editor chuckled and they left, not knowing that later that evening the Minster would be poisoned as a last-ditch Death Eater attack, nor knowing that his successor was one bumbling baboon, one who would promote Leo's fame in an effort to uphold his own status. But if they did, neither would care because one had had too much war to deal with and was quite ready to move on and the other knew he would profit and wasn't about to protest against that.