The Head of House Potter had been to more eclectic gatherings, but not by much. In the Hogwarts faculty meeting room were some of the most diverse attendees he had ever seen. Aside from the various witches and wizards that sat around the large table in the center, there were also two centaurs, one goblin, three beautiful Veela, and what appeared to be a wood nymph.
James had to stop himself from making a comment when he took in the occupants of the room. All right, Lily stomped on his foot before a word could leave his mouth, but come on! Opportunities like this came but once in a lifetime. The jokes practically write themselves.
Forced to swallow prime comedic material, he could only grumble while his wife kept a firm grip on his arm. They were seated smack dab in the middle of the row that contained the human magicals while the non-humans occupied the other side. To his left, Sirius hadn’t stopped snickering since they sat down while old Minerva rolled her eyes more than once.
It was positively nostalgic.
His reminiscing was cut short by Dumbledore clearing his throat. This caught the attention of the room, with an intense degree of interest directed at his former headmaster.
“I’m certain you have been asking yourselves why we are gathered here. I can only apologize for keeping you waiting. Rest assured, everyone in this room was necessary to resolve the quagmire that is soon to engulf Magical Britain.”
James did not like the sound of that. And by the sharpening of expressions sent Dumbledore’s way, his fellow attendees shared his apprehension.
“Nothing that was said in the Great Hall was untrue, but the more astute among you would have noticed important details being left out. With our privacy now assured, it’s time we correct that oversight.”
The celebrated auror felt Lily stiffen beside him, causing James to glance over with worry. From the moment he saw her lying on that hospital bed (in an empty classroom, of all places), he knew that she was hiding something. Something momentous. Most worryingly, something related to their family.
He just wasn’t sure of the specifics. After making sure that their children were safe and also in the dark as to the events of the day, he couldn’t imagine how this incident could possibly relate to them.
“Before we proceed, however, introductions are in order,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “The fine witches and wizards in attendance will already have some familiarity with each other. As such, we will start with our more reclusive numbers.”
The headmaster waved a hand to the centaurs standing to his right.
“These are Firenze and Bane, members of the centaurs who have made the Forbidden Forest their home. Both were part of the party that found today’s subject of interest. Their testimony will serve to provide valuable background information with regards to the coming discussion.”
Nods were exchanged but no words were said. The star seers were notorious for avoiding conversations of any kind if they could help it. Speaking with them is a good way to drive yourself barmy if you’re not careful.
James would know. They’d chased the Marauders out of the Forbidden Forest enough times not to. All while trying to explain that their presence there was the result of a misunderstanding and not, as turned out to be the case, to collect ingredients for a prank potion.
Dumbledore then moved on to the goblin seated to his left. He presented a rather uncommon sight compared to what most witches and wizards saw when visiting Gringotts. For one thing, he was larger and held himself like a high-ranking officer. The armor he wore exemplified the peak of what goblin smithing could accomplish without gaudy embellishments.
“May I introduce Garnok, the goblin representative. He comes with information that he assures me is crucial for this meeting.”
This time, nobody greeted anybody. Goblin-wizard enmity was a fact of life and neither wanted anything to do with the other outside of official arrangements that involved gold or treasure.
Not even bothering to try and force the issue, the headmaster nodded toward the trio of breathtaking women across from James and Lily. At first, the Potter struggled to resist staring at their alluring (ha! Get it?) forms, but this was down more to initial exposure than a weakness to their well-known, in-born abilities.
Having his lovely wife beside him helped James to gradually acclimate, as well. A fact that the redhead knew based on the appreciative smile she sent him.
In sharp contrast to the married man’s valiant efforts, Sirius has yet to stop silently flirting with the Veela while sporting his signature roguish grin. James had long since gotten used to his best friend's antics and knew that trying to curtail the lifelong bachelor’s sexual escapades was a pointless endeavor.
Based on the blank expressions on the women’s faces, it didn’t look like he was getting anywhere, to begin with. The reason for their apparent disinterest was revealed with Dumbledore’s next words.
“Blessing us with their presence today are Veela matriarchs from the three major covens in Europe. From left to right, we have Lady Branimira Desislava from the Bulgarian coven, Madame Béatrice Dupont from the French coven, and Signora Francesca Barbieri from the Italian coven.”
Their reception was noticeably warmer than that of the previous two. Not that James expected any different. Even women were not completely immune to the supernatural beauties when in such close proximity.
“They are here at my request for a very specific reason, which we will delve into momentarily. For now, allow me to present the wood nymph Orea, who petitioned to join this meeting as the herald of the fae folk residing in the lands surrounding Hogwarts.”
While pleasantries were exchanged, James couldn't help but notice a few concerning details about the messenger from the storied people of old. Skin the color and texture of bark with leaves for hair and black eyes, Orea’s physical features made reading her difficult. This made the clear signs of agitation coming off her even more alarming.
It was as if the woman was dying to say something but held herself back with great difficulty.
Solving that mystery will have to wait, though, with Dumbledore introducing the rest of the guests.
“Now that we all know each other, we can proceed to the reason for this gathering.”
Garnok snorted at that before giving the whole room a contemptuous glare.
“It’s about time, wizard. Unlike you fine people, we goblins prefer to spend our time as wisely as we manage gold. I want to deliver the message from our soothsayers and leave, if it’s all the same to you.”
His words generated scowls from practically everyone, but no one took the bait. Rising to a goblin’s taunt may as well be a sign of defeat. The only ones who walk away victorious from an argument with goblins are the goblins.
“Then, by all means, Garnok, we’re all eagerly listening,” Dumbledore replied with aplomb.
To no one’s surprise, the goblin only grunted in response, which was another thing that you could count on when dealing with the little bastards. Once you have proven resistant to their usual tactics, they are quick to drop the matter.
“Ripples were felt by earth shapers from Gringotts branches all over the world just before dawn this morning, local time. Soothsayers have since been communing with the wyldes to divine the cause and potential ramifications of this global event. All of them came back saying the same thing regardless of clan, political affiliation, or location.”
Breathless anticipation followed the goblin’s proclamation. Each person fearing the worst yet unable to disguise their overwhelming need to know the rest.
“The harbinger of Death, unknowing and blind, has come to enkindle inexorable shifts in the tapestries of fate.
On wings of hellfire, he will soar ever higher, holding daughters of the gods close to his bosom and empowering his ascension.
Stars will flock to his banner in supplication, with desperate desires to build his new constellation.
And the inviolable pillars of the world, falsely proclaimed as enduring as magic itself, will lie broken before the Repear’s favored son.
Woe to those who would fan his fury, for the firestorm ignited can only be cooled by ones who have seen his soul.”
A pin-drop would have been deafening in the absolute silence that Garnok invoked. James would have been prepared to swear that he could hear the heartbeats of both Lily and Sirius. There was no denying what they just heard. That was a prophecy and one that a goblin chose to share, at that.
A goblin chose to share a prophecy.
This bears repeating because goblins, by their nature, have always jealously guarded their secrets. Deigning to join a gathering of other races was momentous enough. But to share something as valuable as a prophecy? James didn’t know how to even begin to process that.
He was broken out of his spiraling confusion and bewilderment by the sound of Lily gasping. Looking over, he saw his wife clutching at her chest, eyes shut tight, face almost devoid of blood, and showing signs of difficulty in breathing.
Alarmed, he quickly pushed his chair back and gently cradled Lily’s face with both hands.
“Lily, listen to me, focus on my voice,” James crooned. “You’re safe love, everything is all right. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
While trying to calm his hyperventilating wife, James was only marginally aware of the outburst by everyone else. He couldn’t understand what they said and right now, he couldn’t care less. Fortunately, the auror’s efforts seemed to be bearing fruit since Lily’s erratic breathing was beginning to even out.
Color was even returning to her cheeks, though she still looked pale. Eventually, Lily opened her eyes and met her husband’s worried gaze with a tremulous smile.
“I’m fine now, love,” she rasped, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Thank you. You did wonderfully, James.”
His response was a cheeky grin that he knew would both infuriate and delight her.
“Is that a tone of surprise I hear? All these years of marriage, I was bound to learn something. Though, you could stand to praise me some more. I certainly wouldn’t complain.”
As if deciding that he deserved a reward, Lily let out a weak giggle and a shake of her head. Good, she was almost back to normal. He was still hesitant to ask about her visceral reaction, but catching his inquisitive look, the redhead beat him to the punch.
“I promise to explain everything,” Lily said quietly. “Just a little more waiting, James, please. Trust me?”
Faced with his wife’s entreating look, James tamped down on his impatience. Being made to wait for answers was becoming tiresome. Still, despite his better judgment, he chose to capitulate.
If Dumbledore delayed any longer, though, he might just wring the answers out of him.
With that dealt with, James decided to pay his surroundings some attention, once more. The first thing he noticed was Sirius giving him a questioning look.
“Later,” he whispered, hoping that was enough for his brother in all but blood.
After a quick glance at the visibly recovering Lily, Sirius nodded and dropped the subject. In the meantime, James noted how Dumbledore and Garnok were being bombarded with frantic questions. Oddly enough, they were only coming from the other witches and wizards.
The centaurs, Veela, and wood nymph all remained silent. Not that they were unaffected by the prophecy. All of them displayed varying degrees of anxiety and unease. Pinched brows, tightening around the eyes, exchanging knowing looks, and pale-faced.
From what James could discern, they simply had better control over their reactions.
A loud retort served to silence the worst of the clamor, revealing Dumbledore with a raised wand. Contrary to what James expected, however, the headmaster showed signs of apprehension, as well. Behind the beard and half-moon glasses was a waxy complexion that he couldn’t remember ever seeing on the normally unflappable man.
It took some time, but eventually, the old wizard managed to speak.
“While this news is distressing, I am asking all of you to please remain calm,” Dumbledore managed to inject some steel into his voice. “Panicking only serves to hamper our efforts to find a solution.”
James was once again impressed to see how the headmaster could affect a hysterical crowd. Whether by his presence or words, he exuded an impression of steadfast refuge and security. Unlike many of his most ardent followers, though, James wasn’t blind.
The prophecy unnerved Dumbledore more than he was showing and that, more than anything, made the auror even more adamant about getting some answers.
Once calm was restored, the sorcerer turned back to the goblin.
“I cannot begin to imagine how difficult it was for the goblin nations to make this decision, Garnok. I give you my personal assurance that we will use this information wisely.”
Garnok shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard, to be honest. When every single soothsayer outright told us to share the prophecy or risk the destruction of our race, the choice is moot. But now that I’ve done what was asked of me, I have no reason to stay any longer.”
The goblin stood up and regarded the table.
“I bid you all a good day and the best of luck in the coming days.”
With that, he turned and left. Once the door closed behind the departing figure, everyone shot Dumbledore an expectant look.
“While the results of Garnok’s contribution were more disconcerting than I anticipated, it cannot be denied that it was also informative. Even so, we have more to discuss. As such, I ask our two centaur friends to relay the events pertaining to the discovery of the boy this morning in their own words.”
Bane and Firenze exchanged looks before appearing to have a silent argument. From the way that the latter sagged in defeat, Bane had won whatever spat they just had. Firenze then gazed over the gathered attendees and spoke in a deep, mesmerizing baritone.
“Our part in this play began several nights past. The alignment of the stars and the position of the planets spoke of a fateful encounter that would occur in our forest. Multiple attempts were made to discern more from our reading of the celestial bodies, but none were forthcoming. At a loss for what our next steps should be, it was decided that patrols would be on the alert for anything unusual that would occur in the near future.
“As it happens, shortly before discovering the child, our party felt a sudden and inexplicable change. It was all around us. The trees, rivers, earth, rocks, and even the air. Do not ask me to explain what we felt. It would be beyond me were I inclined to even try. We knew then that the time had come and began our search in earnest.
“It was not until the sun had nearly risen over the horizon that we came across a strange sight. A clearing that we knew for certain did not exist until that moment seized our attention with unnatural force.”
Firenze paused his re-telling to fix them with an alien gaze. Even without him saying so, James understood how perturbed he was with the experience.
“You must understand. We have roamed the woods you call the Forbidden Forest for centuries. In all that time, nothing has influenced our minds so completely as that indescribable sensation. Regardless of our personal grievances at the violation of our wills,” at this, the centaur shot Bane a brief but pointed look before continuing, “we obeyed the prodding and came upon a body lying on its back.
“It was a human, a foal by our standards, and seemed to be slumbering in peace. Despite our confusion at this discovery, all of us knew in our bones that the boy was touched by Fate. We could not interfere more than we already have. So we called upon the school to have the child brought into your care. The rest of the story is not ours to share.”
Not exactly the most riveting tale that James had ever heard, but it did give plenty of much-needed context to this case. More and more, he wanted to know who this child was and why he affected Lily so much.
“Thank you Firenze, you have given us much to think about,” said Dumbledore and then turned to the rest of his guests. “We now know that there is more to this child’s appearance than mere chance. From there, we can proceed to the particulars of what led to the debacle that brought all of us together.”
James was not alone in perking up to give all his attention to the illustrious headmaster of Hogwarts. It took a bit to get here but he was finally getting some answers. Beside him, he noted Lily almost shrinking into herself, which sparked feelings of rage inside him.
But he couldn’t think of only himself right now. Taking her hand into his own, he gave it a gentle squeeze to let her know that he was there for her. James smiled when she reciprocated.
“Before I continue, I want to remind all of you that what we have is incomplete information. There are still many questions that remain unanswered. So I must prevail upon you to withhold judgment until we learn the truth.”
James was already not liking this. The evidence of a spectacular battle littered the Hogwarts grounds and painted a grim picture of the mystery boy. Dumbledore’s reticence to provide answers without multiple reminders to not jump to conclusions only strengthened the temptation to assume the worst.
When the headmaster launched into an extended and more complete version of the summary he provided in the Great Hall, James began to truly appreciate the magnitude of this disaster. He covered everything from when the patient was brought in, the examinations and scans that were done, and his meeting with the other three staff members.
It was when the test results were revealed that James felt a void form in his gut.
“Are you taking this piss, Dumbledore?!”
James didn’t know when he had gotten to his feet, the sudden movement causing the sturdy chair to bang on the stone floor. A vein throbbed on his temple, his temper strained by the numerous aspects of this case that made no sense and Lily acting like a kicked puppy. Hearing one of the people he respected most essentially accuse his son of being responsible for it all pushed his frustration past anger and right into volcanic rage.
“Harry had nothing to do with this!” James slammed his fist on the table. “My son is in the Slytherin common room and not chained in a dungeon cell. I know, I checked!”
Silence returned once more but this time James could not bring himself to care. He was too incensed that Dumbledore would think for even a moment that Harry would be capable of such brutal destruction.
His son might have drifted away from their family over the years - an outcome he had his fair share of blame for - but enough to hurt Lily? No, he didn’t believe it. He refused to believe it.
James was distracted from glaring at Dumbledore by a tug from Lily. Turning to his wife, who had also stood up, he saw tears brimming in her eyes.
“Love, please calm down,” she pleaded. “He isn’t accusing our son of anything. Let him explain.”
Looking deep into those pools of emerald, James was not too proud to admit that he could not deny Lily anything. Even so, the auror couldn’t bring himself to speak and just grunted in affirmation. He was rewarded with a grateful smile that turned apologetic when she faced Dumbledore.
“I’m sorry for my husband’s interruption, headmaster. Please continue.”
The old coot waved away Lily’s words with that Merlinbedamned twinkle in his eyes.
“Think nothing of it, Lily. I can see where the misunderstanding came from. To be clear James,” Dumbledore said, “I am not saying that your son was responsible for any wrongdoings. Rather, I am telling you the results of examinations designed to possess a high degree of accuracy.”
“But what does that mean, Dumbledore?” Bones took the chance to interject. “Are you saying we have two Harry Potters running around? Isn’t it more likely that some spell or potion was used to steal the real one’s identity? Polyjuice, perhaps?”
Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering.
“We have tested for every conceivable spell, enchantment, ritual, or potion that would have allowed someone to take another’s appearance. The boy is identical to Harry Potter, right down to his blood and magic, Amelia. If you can think of anything that could get past Madame Pomfrey's rigorous examinations, please speak up.”
The DMLE head glanced at the Hogwarts healer and promptly shook her head. James almost snorted. Amelia’s position as the preeminent law enforcement authority in Magical Britain made her privy to certain details not available to the public. Poppy’s acknowledged skills in treating all manner of magical ills and maladies, even outside of the country, being one of them.
“I thought as much,” Dumbledore said. “In any event, we cannot rule anything out. Magic is a wondrous thing that has given birth to marvels yet understood or replicated. Until we can speak with the Harry Potter we have in custody, any attempt to come to a conclusion is doomed to failure. To that end, I advise that you all listen to what I have yet to share.”
With everyone settled in their seats once more, Dumbledore laid out the rest of the missing pieces of the maddening puzzle. And what a gripping narrative it was.
The entire Hospital Wing demolished by a single spell? The great wizard in the world driven to the brink by a kid whose balls haven’t even dropped yet? Five Hogwarts professors forced to a stalemate by a single preteen? Granted, Snivellus was among them, but even James would grudgingly accept his ability with a wand.
Dumbledore spared no details in his accounting of the ensuing clash. Going by his descriptions, the thing pretending to be his son showed unmistakable mastery over the Dark Arts. That he held off a group of accomplished adult spellcasters for so long spoke of training and battlefield experience uncommon in the modern world.
In the end, their victory was more due to luck than anything else, making the Marauder wonder. Would he have fared any better had he been in their place?
Suddenly, an accented voice asked over the ringing silence, “Excusez-moi, may I ask for clarification?”
It was one of the Veela birds (no pun intended), Dupont. Dumbledore dipped his head in her direction.
“Certainly, Madame Dupont. What would you like to know?”
The bewitching woman gracefully nodded in thanks.
“In your recounting, you described the boy using fireballs. Fireballs with particularly distinctive coloring and behavior after making contact with solid surfaces. May I ask you to expound on that point?”
The aged headmaster adopted a look of comprehension, cottoning onto something in the request that no one around the table missed. James’ suspicions were confirmed in short order.
“Ah, I should have expected that detail to catch your interest. In brief, yes, Madame Dupont. The young wizard we fought this morning did indeed use the Flames of Gehenna.”
The French Veela’s face froze over while her two fellow Matriarchs inhaled sharply.
“We will need to meet him,” she declared in a tone that brooked no argument.
“That can be arranged,” Dumbledore replied, offering no resistance. “In the interest of ensuring that we are all of the same mind in this, could I impose on you to explain the gravity of the situation to the room?”
Dupont’s thinning lips marked her reluctance to do as requested but she could not refuse. Not after Garnok’s contribution and the headmaster’s agreement to her demand. Following a wordless conference between the three cover leaders, Francesca Barbieri was chosen to speak for them.
“It is known that Veela are adept at certain types of magic,” she said, her heavy accent making her words difficult but not impossible to understand.
“Our fire is innate, we use it as soon as we mature. It is a part of our very being and shapes us just as much as anything else does.”
She paused, closed her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. This time, her posture was that of someone desperately trying to keep herself together.
“However, we used to be so much more. Nearly eight thousand years may have passed, but we still know our histories. Tales of our origins, our triumphs… and our failures.”
Ms. Barbieri then raised her magnificent, sorrowful face to cast a solemn gaze over the gathered audience. Her eyes seemed to contain the weight of ages.
“We were once a people that enjoyed immense power - commanding flames that could overcome all defense, both mundane and magical. Cities would tremble at our coming. Our victory all but assured, regardless of our foes. As a result, our forebears thought themselves as gods and in their hubris, they incurred the wrath of our progenitor.”
No one dared to interrupt the story, though it was clear that some dearly wanted to. James rarely ever saw such intense concentration as what Amelia’s expression was exuding, at that moment. Dumbledore, Lily, Minerva, and even Sirius could have been carved from marble.
This wasn’t all that surprising, though.
Veela were mysterious creatures. This was a large part of their appeal, what made them so desirable either as companions for some or as property for others. Their allure was known. Their transformation was known. But, nobody had ever heard of them being a war-like race.
Such a reputation was often attributed to goblins, giants, werewolves, and of course, wizards. Not the small, reclusive, all-female covens with members that have earned borderline pornographic claims to fame.
And now, they were being told that they used to run roughshod over everyone they came across before the bronze age? Also, what’s this about a progenitor?
“Unlike many of the races that exist today, we were not shaped from earth and water,” Francesca continued to say, every word seemingly costing tremendous effort on her part. “We were breathed to life as spirits of air and fire, as the favored children of the first wife of Adam… as the daughters of Lilith.”
The deafening silence following this declaration was unceremoniously shattered by none other than Sirius Black.
“Called it!” the insufferable mutt crowed.
