Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J. K. Rowling, I am just writing for fun, and I make no profits from this endeavour.

Warning: Even though I have no specific intention of writing any of it, this story might eventually contain swearing, violence and adult themes. I will not be putting disclaimers at the start of every chapter, as that is a bit of a spoiler, but there should not be anything particularly disturbing here. Please refer back to the rating and description of the story for the up-to-date rating.

A/N: First time writing fanfiction. I do not have a specific plan for this, but there are a few things I have up my sleeve that I think you will enjoy. All feedback is appreciated. Also in search for a beta.

Enjoy!

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ I — Tʜᴇ Nɪɢʜᴛ Tʜᴀᴛ Tᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Wᴏʀʟᴅ Uᴘsɪᴅᴇ Dᴏᴡɴ, Yᴇᴛ Nᴏʙᴏᴅʏ Nᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ

"If you don't do what needs to be done, the world will go on turning; just as broken as before."

—Gellert Grindelwald

With an inaudible pop, a man appeared in a driveway, left hand releasing the tiny hourglass as the right waved a gnarled wand.

He wore robes of deep purple, slightly wrinkled yet worn with a confidence that spoke of hard-earned experience more than his long white beard spoke of his age. It was not the kind of person you would expect to see at three in the morning in Surrey. His name was Albus Dumbledore.

His screening spells showing no-one close by, Dumbledore strode into the street from behind a hedgerow, flicking open one of his many knick-knacks. Oh, how he loved when he got an opportunity to use one of them! Most of the time they sat around in his office making noise; a shame, really.

Ah, here we go, he thought as the nearby lamps went out one by one, their light speeding towards the small device.

Eight … six … four. There.

He sighed. He really did not want to do this. But it needed doing, so it would be done. And with that thought he knocked on the door. After a few minutes, he knocked again, after casting a small Sonorus charm on the door. Hopefully this time they would hear it.

He was contemplating whether he should return in the morning. Grumpy, sleep-addled people generally weren't good conversation partners. Sadly, he already used his time turner for all its worth today, running damage control and—

"Who's there?"

"Mr. Dursley, I have information about your family you may wish to hear." Dumbledore answered.

The door to number 4 Privet Drive opened, revealing a very annoyed Vernon Dursley.

"Yes? What is it you want, mister…"

"—Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore," he said. "I think it best if we went inside, this is not something one would discuss in public," he added.

Vernon looked at the man, noticing his clothes—were those pyjamas?—then his beard and then his concerned eyes. Being woken up in the middle of the night was not pleasant, by a stranger of all people, but he did seem sincere. "Come in."

"—I have come to tell you that my friends, your sister and her husband, were killed just after midnight, Mrs. Dursley. They had been attacked by a … terrorist. Mrs. Dursley, have you told your husband…" he trailed off, hoping she would understand.

"No," a bare whisper in reply. He didn't really know whether it was an exclamation of horror or an answer to his question. Damn.

"What? Who?" Ah. Vernon Dursley's face was currently cycling between angry at the man for upsetting his wife, concerned for his wife and yawning.

"Mr. Dursley, your wife's sister was a witch; she married a wizard—"

"That's impossible! They were at our wedding, they were perfectly normal people!" Vernon exclaimed.

Dumbledore chuckled at the outburst, "They were normal people, Mr. Dursley. They were also wizards, citizens of Wizarding Britain. Our two worlds kept separate ever since the Salem witch burning of 1692, for obvious reasons. However, I feel you need to know this as their son, young Harry, is now an orphan and needs someone who would take care of him. I have no clue how it happened, but Harry survived, destroying the Dark Lord who killed his parents and ending a war."

"Give me a minute," Vernon said as he made a beeline for the kitchen, "I need something stronger for this, can I offer you anything?"

"No, thank you, I think a clear head would serve me better right now, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore replied. Petunia Dursley just shook her head.

A few moments later, Vernon returned nursing a cup of scotch.

"Let me get this straight. My in-laws could do magic, and so can their son?" Vernon asked.

Dumbledore nodded.

"And he killed a Dark Lord?"

He nodded again. To be fair, he was surprised. He had not expected the Dursleys to take the news this well, all things considered. Mrs. Dursley was still crying, and you could see Mr. Dursley was trying very hard not to fall asleep, or wake up from a dream. But there was no shouting, and he was glad for that. Perhaps it's because they were never close, ever since Lily left for Hogwarts.

"And you want us to take their son and raise him?" Vernon interrupted his quiet musings. "Mr. Dumbledore, with all due respect, I must refuse. I have no idea how to raise a wizard, we have our hands full with our own Dudley and we do not have the means to support another child, thank you very much. For all they were our family, we barely knew them, and Harry would be completely isolated from his society if he stayed with us. I believe Petunia agrees as well."

He saw Mrs. Dursley nodding along, visibly torn. She probably wanted to take the child in, but knew that what her husband said was true. They could ill-afford to care for another toddler. Dumbledore sighed. He really felt bad for dumping all of it on the couple. Nobody deserved to hear news like this.

"Are you absolutely certain that you do not want to take in the child? I would personally see that all expenses on the child will be covered." Dumbledore tried.

"No, Mr. Dumbledore. As much as I would like to raise Lily's boy, what Vernon said is true. He should not be cut off from his world until he goes to Hogwarts. Don't you have someone you can leave him with, some wizard couple or something?"

That was the first time Petunia spoke. He sighed, again. They were right, he couldn't leave Harry here. Even with the protection and blood wards he planned for him, leaving him with someone who can apparate away in the face of danger made sense. He supposed he should have expected it. Lily always presented such wonderfully undisputable arguments, there was no reason for her sister to be different, even if she was a muggle. What was it he said? They were normal people, he thought, and so is this couple.

"Mr. Dumbledore, are you all right?" Vernon hesitantly asked.

"Yes, my apologies, it has been a long and turbulent night for me. I shall take my leave. I had planned to erect some protections against wizards, but as young Harry will not be staying here, I fear that putting up wards might attract unwanted attention. It would be safer for you to pretend like nothing happened." With that, he stood up and sighed. Am I getting too old for this?

It was some time later that found Albus in the Infirmary of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was a sort of serenity about the place. With no students and in the dead of the night, the room was silent, other than the quiet breathing of two people.

What to do… What to do… he thought as he walked towards the transfigured crib. It seems I will have to keep you with me for a while, Harry Potter. He was surprised that he was actually looking forward to it. He could finally be someone's mysterious old wizard—… er… uncle. But he needed to find someone trustworthy, the boy could not be kept isolated from his peers. The Dursleys were right on that account. Who could he ask? Who could he trust? It broke his heart to weigh every action of every person he knew, but Black had taught him a bitter lesson that night. He wanted that man caught and put on trial. He needed to know why. Why did you do it, Sirius?

Dawn found Albus Dumbledore staring out at the grounds of Hogwarts, arms clasped behind his back and dark thoughts running through his mind. Only as he heard a cry from behind him did he wake up from his half-dreaming state and looked at the baby. Brighter times are ahead of us, Harry Potter, brighter times indeed.

Albus Dumbledore smiled, then. A small, tired smile of a man who has seen too many battles, fought in too many wars and watched too many friends die. A smile of a man who has learned to appreciate the little joys in life, because sometimes those were the only ones there were. With that thought, he turned back to the window, swallowing a Lemon Drop and making a small bird from the wrapping paper that Harry watched with fascination. It did not do to dwell on the past and forget to live.