(This is in response to Jedipilot24's Harry Potter challenge: "What if Harry had been raised by Alastor Moody?". As much as I didn't want to start another story…I just couldn't bring myself to let the story go. Anyway, this prologue might be longer then most, and will be a songfic chapter put to the song "Who is this Child" by Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Now then, I suppose without further ado, thus begins:

Remember Boy…Constant Vigilance!

Prologue: There's no way I should care…

"Albus…Albus please listen to me; there is more happening here than you believe!" the nervous voice of Miverna McGonagall spoke softly as she followed the older headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore shook his head lightly, his eyes seeming to hold an inner light that wasn't reflecting on what he and Miverna had just witnessed. Behind them, in dark haunting colors, the Dark Mark hung for the entire world to see. Before speaking, Dumbledore took his free hand, the other carrying the bundle in his arm, and cast a spell to rid them of the mark.

"What is there that we can do, professor?" Albus said softly, looking down at the bundle in his arms. Behind them a sputtering sound was heard as the large figure of Rubeus Hagrid on a motorbike, flying off as he attempted to get help, trying to find those responsible for what had transpired. For now, the young child in Albus Dumbledore's arms, Harry James Potter, was truly without a family, Number 4, Private drive, and all those inside…were now a smoldering pile of ash…

"Where shall the boy stay? You said this was the only place he belonged, where else could he go?" McGonagall asked as she stopped, watching as Dumbledore took a few more steps before stopping, looking down at the small child in his arms.

"I truly don't know, Miverna…The only one I can think of to raise the child would be his godfather, Sirius, but after what Hagrid had told us, it seems that isn't a possibility at the present time…" McGonagall looked down, as if in deep thought before he looked up again, an idea coming from her mouth.

"What about Remus, or Peter Pettigrew? They are friends of James and I'm sure they would be willing to take the young boy in…?" Dumbledore shook his head as he closed his eyes, turning to face McGonagall.

"You know of Remus's condition, Miverna…and in truth, Peter seems to be hardly able to take care of himself, rather than another human being…as sorry as I feel for saying as such…no, I can think of only one man who might actually take the young child in" McGonagall watched Dumbledore expectantly, not sure of who she meant. As she waited, Dumbledore continued.

"Young James was an Auror, taught by the best of that institute…his mentor, his trainer, and one man that I actually trust. I think he will take the boy in." He opened his eyes and judged McGonagall's response. McGonagall's face went from confusion, to shock, to almost horror as she realized just who Dumbledore was talking about.

"Albus…Albus you can't truly mean?" Dumbledore nodded as he turned, closing his eyes as he thought of a small house, just outside of London, but well hidden from both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, only accessible to those who knew where it was.

"Albus…Albus!" but McGonagall's cries fell on deaf ears as Dumbledore apparated away, leaving McGonagall behind, as she didn't know where Alastor Moody lived.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The popping sound of apparating caught the old man's attention quickly as he opened his eyes, one eye spinning around quickly, finding the source. While he had just been woken up, his eyesight was a tad blurry, but he was able to see well enough to realize someone was coming near his house. Getting up at break-neck speed the older man staggered down the hallway towards the main foyer of the house, his wooden leg being louder than he was aware of at the present time. The older man stopped as he stood at the top of his stairs, glaring down at the main entrance as he attempted to get a better look at who was approaching his home. He gripped his beaten wand tightly as he waited, trying to understand what was happening.

"So, they've finally come for me have they?" he asked himself in a hushed tone, "Well, they aren't going to get Alastor Moody without a fight! No sir…" Moody took a few cautious steps as he began muttering to himself, unreadable words that Moody himself wasn't sure he fully understood. Moody stood there, halfway down the steps as he watched the door, waiting for the red light of a blasting charm to knock his door in, which he then decided he would follow with a stunning spell, then, if they decided to bring in dementors, which they probably did, as Alastor couldn't think of a reasonable answer as to why they wouldn't…everything was out to get him anyway…

"My patronus has been feared by many dementors, just try and get me!" he half shouted as he waited…one minute…two…five…ten…and still, there was nothing. Alastor hardly lowered his wand as he moved his eyes to look through the door…finding nothing beyond except what appeared to be a bag lying out beyond the door. The figure that had carried the thing, whatever it was, was no longer in the area… Moody took a few more cautious steps so that he was down the staircase, a few feet from the door.

"Patefacio" he muttered, flicking his wand lightly to see the door swing open, banging loudly against the wall beside it. Whatever it was outside his door now was beginning to stir, a loud, strange noise, one Moody had never heard before, filled his ears, forcing him to cover his ears in a panic.

"A diversion! I knew it!" The old man shouted as he ran to the door, picking up the small bundle only to be caught completely off guard. There, wailing as Moody held the small creature dangling in his left hand by the cloth wrapped around him was the flailing form of a baby.

"…What the?" He asked softly as he looked at the baby, noting the small tuffs of black hair and the lightning shaped scar on its forehead.

"Where did it…who?" He questioned again as he looked outside, seeing nothing but the darkness of the night. He growled softly and walked forward slightly, putting the baby back on the stoop.

Who is this child that I've never seen before?
Who is this child that I've not seen till this day?
Who dares to fall asleep outside my door?
If we should wait a while I'm sure he'll go away…

"…Maybe…I should leave it where I found it" Moody said softly as he put the child, still crying, back outside and closed his door. He could still hear the muffled cries as he sighed, turning from the door as he began to walk towards the staircase.

To be involved with this would surly not be wise.
For in the final word he means nothing to me.
I've learned the trick is that we just avoid his eyes,
And the question what he means to…

Mood had everything set in his mind, he would return to bed, and forget that this had ever happened. And no regret would be felt for the child that now sat helplessly outside his door…the child who seemed so scared…so confused…Moody shook his head, what was he supposed to do about it? He wasn't someone who could take care of a child!

What is this life? There will be other lives,
Soon to arrive, surly some will survive.
He is but one, and there are many more,
Each the same as any other!

Who is this child? What does he mean to me?
I close my eyes, and still his face I see.
He is but one, his kind is everywhere!
Can't you see there's no way I should…care…?

Moody shook his head and began his assent. The child had begun to soften its cries as he reached the top of the stairs. An open window in one of his rooms blew a cold wind across his face, causing Alastor's thoughts to once again be on the child outside his door. He would be cold…if left there he wouldn't last the night…Moody shook his head again as he turned into the room, slamming the window shut. Strange thoughts entered Moody's mind…could he care for the child…what would he do? How could he leave a poor, defenseless thing out there…?

I need a moment now; I have to clear my mind.
Is there a limit lord, just for being kind?
There is no way in life that each child can be saved.
Should I be looking with regret at every grave?

"No one told the child there was a guarantee he would live…life isn't as fare as everyone wants it to be…" He said softly, as if trying to convince himself of such words.

There are no guarantees in life he should be warned.
I'm not responsible for this child being born.
I'm not responsible in any kind of way,
For every child that life can gather…

"No! This is madness; I have no responsibility for this child…" He said as he continued down the hall and into his room, walking in and looking down at the bed in front of him.

What is this life? There will be other lives,
Soon to arrive, surly some will survive.
He is but one, and there are many more,
Could this one life really matter?!

Who is this child? What does he mean to me?
I close my eyes, and still his face I see.
He is but one, his kind is everywhere.
Can't you see there's no way I should care?!

Still…no mater how many times he told himself that it wasn't his problem…he had no reason for doing anything for this child…Alastor Moody felt something he hadn't felt for another human being in many, many years. Moody turned to look at a picture, a picture of a young Alastor Moody, with a bright, and beautiful blond haired woman standing with him, looking happy, smiling and laughing. Alastor sighed as he turned quickly, moving down the hallway quicker than when he thought he was being attacked.

Can you see it in the night? Can you feel that it's out there?
It's the arcing of a life, and it's hanging in the air.
Though I try to close my eyes, and pretend that I don't know,
In my heart, I just can't let it go!

There has to be another way for me
A way that leads from this insanity!
A way that leads from,
My destruction as I say-

Moving quickly Alastor was down the stairs and taking long strides towards the door.

Can you see it in the night? Can you feel that it's out there?
It's the arcing of a life, and it's hanging in the air.
Though I try to close my eyes, and pretend that I don't know,
In my heart, I just can't let it…go…

Opening the door, Alastor Moody looked to see the child sleeping, and as he bent over, picking the child from the stoop, he finally noticed the letter written in green ink, noted to Alastor Moody. Picking the letter up as well as he cradled the child in his right arm, Alastor Moody did one of the strangest things he had ever done in his life…

He was now the adoptive father, of one Harry James Potter.

(Well, that's to begin it. I hope it's not too bad. It might take a while before I add more to it, but I'll work on it. Don't worry, I'll go a bit into their life together, but I won't spend more than two chapters on it, wanting to move forward to Hogwarts. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, so long for now.)