The Road to Godric's Hollow

Part I: Where Paths are Set

22 June 1980

The early morning sun was shining brightly, its rays catching on the dew-ridden leaves of the forest, making them sparkle like emeralds. The world was just starting to wake. The birds' melodic songs were beginning to be heard from across the forest. Light snores could still be heard inside the small hut by the edge of the woods. Owls of different shapes and sizes were returning to their tower, satiated from their nightly hunt.

Inside the castle, in a spacious circular room guarded by stone gargoyles, an old man was sitting wide-awake by his claw-footed table. He seemed to be lost in thought with his gaze focused on a shallow stone basin, which was decorated with various runes and symbols. Seemingly out of nowhere, a female voice piped up.

"Perhaps we could listen to it one more time, Dumbledore? We might have missed something."

Albus Dumbledore came out of his trance. With a deep breath, he prodded the silver substance inside the basin with his wand. A female figure rose out of the swirling mists, the same woman he had met with a few nights ago in the Hog's Head. The image spoke out as she revolved around the pensive.

"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 power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand 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 few seconds after her monologue, the phantom Sybill Trelawney vanished into the swirling substance.

"Are you certain that this is an authentic prophecy, Dumbledore?" another disembodied voice called out.

Albus turned to look at one of the numerous paintings which adorned his office. The canvas contained a smug-looking man with a pointed beard. "The only thing certain in this world is uncertainty, Phineas. I do have some reservations regarding the matter, but it would not hurt to make the necessary precautions."

A wizened witch with grey curls spoke up next. "What time are you expecting him, Albus?"

"He should be here any minute now," the Headmaster replied in a weary voice.

A red-nosed wizard came panting into the empty canvass that hung behind his desk. "Dumbledore, I came from downstairs. He's just arrived."

As if on cue, the inhabitants of the room heard the slow, grinding ascent of the staircase outside the office, which was followed by three soft raps upon the door.

"Come in, Frank," Albus called out.

The door opened to admit a tall, muscular man with longish brown hair. He appeared to be in his early thirties, although his face was prematurely lined with wrinkles. There were dark circles underneath his tired eyes, and he looked as if he had not slept for a week.

"Is there something wrong, Albus? Will there be an attack? What's...?" he anxiously inquired.

Albus motioned for him to take a seat. "Calm down, my good man. Nothing's wrong, and as far as I know there will be no attacks today. Care for a lemon drop?"

With a relieved breath and a shake of his head, Frank Longbottom sat at one of the comfortable chintz armchairs near the Headmaster's desk. "That's a relief. I was looking forward to a full night's sleep."

"How was your shift? From the absence of news, I take it nothing happened last night?" questioned the older man.

"No, everything was quiet last night. Moody and I stood guard outside the Ministry from eleven until five o'clock this morning, and the only thing we saw were a couple of drunk Muggles who decided to re-decorate the phone booth." Frank ran a hand through his hair before continuing, "As usual, Pettigrew didn't arrive until around two. Said that he fell asleep. I don't know why we even bother calling on him."

"Peter is loyal. Despite his shortcomings, I can tell that he will play an important part in this war," Albus answered.

"Anyway, this isn't the first time that we received false information. I thought your informant was sure that there will be a break-in?" the Auror asked.

"He was. Voldemort must have changed his plans or..." Albus stopped for a moment. His gaze went to a frame that was standing near the edge of his desk. The picture was of a group of people, some waving, a few talking amongst themselves, others smiling up at him. He could see himself standing at the front beside Alastor Moody. "Or someone may have told him that we would be there."

Frank followed his gaze. "Do you really think that one of us has turned?"

"All the signs point that way."

"Who could it be?"

"I have my suspicions, but alas we do not have much proof and I am loathe to accuse someone who may turn out to be innocent." With a sigh, Albus looked away from the photograph and turned to his visitor. "I did not invite you here to talk about my suspicions, Frank."

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Frank asked curiously.

"I do not know how to tell you this, so I thought to just show you." Albus again took his wand and with it prodded the pensieve. The figure of Sybill Trelawney reappeared and repeated the prophecy. Frank sat in awe, listening to the Seer as she foretold of the fall of Voldemort. He just sat there in silence, until long after the figure has disappeared from the pensieve. Albus decided to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

After a couple of minutes have passed, Frank finally spoke up. "Do you believe this prophecy?"

"I am of two minds on the matter; nevertheless, we must be prepared and make the necessary precautions. I am afraid that Voldemort may already know of the prophecy."

With this, Frank paled and looked fearfully to Albus. "He may already know? How? When was this prophecy made? And to whom?"

"This prophecy was made to me just a few nights ago at the Hog's Head. That woman was applying for a teaching position here, and we were in the midst of our interview when she had her vision. We were not aware that we had an eavesdropper. My brother noticed him and threw him out, though not before we could ascertain how much he knew."

"And you believe that it's referring to my child?"

"Yes."

Frank was quiet for a while, lost in his thoughts. Albus was just about to offer him some tea when he suddenly brightened up. "But it may not be my child! It could be the Potters'! It fits, Albus. They also defied Voldemort thrice, and Lily's..."

"Lily's seven months along now. She's expected to give birth on August, not July."

Frank's face fell again. "What should we do, Albus?"

"We have to ensure your child's safety. I assume you have enough protective wards set up on your house?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps we could also perform the Fidelius Charm."

"Is that necessary?"

"We have to be prepared for the worst. And we are talking about the fate of the wizarding world." Albus looked at the Auror. In the span of a few minutes, he appeared to have gained a few more years.

"What am I to tell Alice?" Frank asked, his voice tinged with despair.

Albus thought for a while. "Nothing. Do not tell her of the prophecy for it might harm her pregnancy. Maybe in a few months, but not now."

***

She stood by the open door of the nursery. A light wind blew into the room, making the light green curtains flutter gently. Sunlight filled the small nursery, making its yellow walls appear to glow. A blue carpet, which was trimmed with white bunnies and small carrots, was spread over the cold wooden floor. A child's dining area was set at one corner, with its four chairs occupied by various stuffed animals. A white crib was at the centre of the room, with green beddings. Standing by this crib was a tall bespectacled man with messy dark hair, unaware that he had an audience.

"A Knut for your thoughts?" she teased.

James Potter jumped at the sound. He turned around to face his laughing wife.

"Why do you always have to do that?" he asked her in mock anger.

"Honestly James, didn't Moody ever teach you never to turn your back on an open door? What kind of an Auror are you?" she answered in mock disbelief.

"The cute kind," he answered.

Lily smiled. "So you say. Come on, lunch is ready," she said as she led him towards the dining room. "Oh, I've received a letter from my mother. Petunia's given birth today, just a few minutes after midnight. She said that it's a boy."

James' face assumed a neutral expression. "Well, I think that's good."

"Can't you at least pretend to be happy for her? For them?" she pleaded.

"I could, doesn't mean I would or I should," he answered in mock seriousness.

"I think it's nice. Can't you image their son and our baby growing up together?"

James' snort was the only response she got. "Oh come on, they're not THAT bad!" she retorted.

"Yes, and Voldemort's actually a sweet and charitable person."

She laughed at this. "Oh, alright. But still..."

At this moment, their fireplace suddenly flared with green flames. A head appeared in the middle of the flickering fire.

"Potter!" called out the head of Alastor Moody

"Moody? What's up?" James asked in a worried tone.

"Crouch is sending us to Knockturn Alley to investigate. They've just discovered the body of a Death Eater. He was apparently killed by Death Eaters, since a Dark Mark was floating above him," answered the gruff voice of the Auror.

"Who was it?" asked Lily.

"Regulus Black."