A/N: As usual, I own nothing but my plot bunny and a gorgeous black Labrador.

Lux

Chapter 1: Megalomaniac

Lights flickered down Privet Drive. Snow fell heavily creating a pristine carpet that covered all the houses, driveways, and sidewalks. An old man wearing a deep purple robe decorated with gold moons and stars carried a baby in a simple blanket. The baby was sleeping. His forehead had a lightning bolt cut into it. It was beginning to form a scab. The man saw the house he was headed towards. He put the baby against the main door quietly. Then, he started muttering things while waving a thin wooden stick.

Petunia Dursley was once again listening to the ramblings and complaints of the blubbering idiot she called a husband. She had been on her feet for hours, making a soup he supposedly loved, following his mother's recipe. However, the ungrateful man hated it. Nothing she did was ever good enough. Petunia had settled on soup after the newspaper announced that today would be the coldest day of the year. So far, they were right. There wasn't a day she didn't regret marrying Vernon Dursley. Soon into their marriage, he started with the insults, the threats, the slaps, the rapes. It had taken them three years to conceive their baby boy Dudley. He was the only thing that could stop Vernon from hitting Petunia, and as such, she was always overindulgent with her babe.

The more her husband abused Petunia, the more hateful she became. The only being she loved was her son. Every time Vernon would hit her, she would remember the desperate advice of her sister Lily:

"Tuney, please cancel the wedding," Lily begged with teary eyes. "Can't you see? He will never accept me or my world. He thinks I'm a freak. If you marry him, I'll never see you again!"

"You are just jealous that I'm marrying a successful man and that I am marrying first!" Petunia said, turning around and walking away. As she entered a cab, she said over her shoulder, "You are no longer invited to the wedding. I never want to see you again. Go ahead and live in misery with that bum of yours!"

Petunia sighed as she did the dishes. She couldn't have known then that her sister was marrying a Lord. She thought James didn't work because he was lazy. But no, he didn't need to work. And she had bragged to Lily that Vernon was successful. She blushed angrily. Her sister was always getting the best of everything. She hated Lily. Lily had everything Petunia wanted and thought she deserved. Her son started crying, and Vernon yelled at her to make Dudley stop, which scared the baby and made him cry louder.

The dysfunctional family would never know that the way they treated each other would render all the protective spells the old man was muttering outside completely useless. Love magic can only succeed in the presence of love. If it is put on an environment full of loathing and violence, it dies. The man outside was a wizard, and the stick he had was a wand. Magic was very real, and even though he was one of the most powerful wizards that had ever lived, not even he could fool magic and make love magic accept hate as a foundation. The man had interviews to do and parties to attend. He placed a letter on top of the baby addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, kissed the baby's unruly hair, missing the bluish hue of the baby's lips and disregarding the fact that the baby was burning up and trembling. He knocked, turned away, and vanished in thin air.

The Wizarding World needed him, the Great Leader of the Light, to tell them all about how Harry would grow in a loving home with all the luxuries money could buy. Those stupid muggles would be good for something at last. Now he had memories to erase, trials to prevent, consciences to buy, and most importantly, sweets to eat. He could just see it now: all the sweets he'd receive via post, the interview requests, the gifts, and the sponsorships. If only he could get the goblins to cooperate, his ascent to the top of the food chain, as he called it, would be a piece of cake.

Love of power is a poison that corrupts everything. Albus Dumbledore wasn't a bad man in principle. However, with the years, he had begun to have questionable priorities. In his book, the end justified the means. Young Albus Dumbledore was precise, fair, incredibly smart, and prudent. In his youth, he had been brave, even when that bravery came at a high price. The years had passed, and now, an old Albus Dumbledore was so used to being always right that he didn't even notice that he had abandoned a child with hypothermia outside in the coldest night of the year. His bigger picture was a lot more important than little snippets. No one would remember the pesky details… and if they did, he could always obliviate them.