Prologue

The silly girl wouldn't stand aside.

"No, not Harry – not Harry! Take me – take me instead – please!"

Her screams were grating on his ears. He felt his anger bubbling up to a dangerous level – first her worthless Auror husband and now this!

"I said – stand aside! One last time – stand aside and I will not harm –"

But she wouldn't.

He was beyond his limit. He raised his wand, the two-word curse at the tip of his tongue. Everyone knew what happened should they stand in his way, and the mudblood had made her choice. But something – there was something – something stopped him; tiny green sparks shot out through the tip of his wand and fizzled out.

Time seemed to still.

The mother stood in front of the crib, her furious red hair undone; her startling greens eyes the shade of the killing curse, wet with tears, wide with fear. But she was not afraid, was she? Not afraid for herself … She clutched her wand in a death grip but her arm hung limp at her side; she wasn't going to fight him – she knew she couldn't hope to win. Smart girl – unlike her bloodtraitor husband. But she wouldn't move aside either. What does that make her?

The child was standing up in his crib, staring at the adults in the room with eerie, unblinking eyes – he had his mother's eyes – and he didn't seem scared. Anxious, maybe, but not afraid. His chubby little face and his innocence – disgusting. What power could this infant possibly possess – power that he, the greatest wizard alive, knew not? The child was still staring. It was unnerving, if he so choose to admit to himself.

"Please…" The mudblood dared break the silence. She was begging. One of Dumbledore's finest, and she was begging – it was exquisite, and yet… Something shifted within him. He lowered his wand, just an inch, thoughtful.

"… You're so wiling to die for your son. I wonder –" He paused, finding his own voice strange, somehow. Chilly air blew in mercilessly from the open window, tousling her fiery hair. She no longer seemed so terrified. "… are you brave enough to live for him?" Her stare was level and there was an intensity to it that he was only used to seeing in the mirror.

"Anything." She whispered, not quite an answer to the question he asked out loud. Her tears continued to flow but her voice was steady. "I'd do anything." And he had little doubt that she would.

"So be it." His lips morphed into some semblance of a smile. He'd been told it was terrifying; lesser men had run away screaming, but this peculiar girl in front of him, she was … something else.

Wordlessly, he lifted his wand just a hair and her weapon came flying to him. "Take the boy and follow me." And she obeyed.

[To be continued]