Alright guys, finally got my creative juices running for the first time in over a year. I've done a lot of thinking and imagining and I do believe that I have it in me to get some actual work done on this story. I won't waste time though on a note. I'm far too eager to get this out.

There's something to be said about the power of acquaintance. While you can't always say an acquaintance is a friend, you can sometimes ask a favor if you feel they are close enough. Or, perhaps, you can hope they will confide in you things that are in your favor(or in favor of those you do actually call friends). As such, it can be imagined that a man over a hundred years old would have many acquaintances. Much more so if his name happens to be Albus Dumbledore.

Some might believe that it was his power that drew people to him, and part of that was true. His power was tremendous, sometimes even frightening. His defeat of Gellert Grindelwald was proof to those who had known the horrific capabilities of the man currently held in Nurmengard Prison. Others would suggest it was his kindness, for indeed his warming smile and that nearly ever present twinkle in his blue eyes was to many a sign of his compassion. But there are others who are drawn to his intelligence, who understand that behind those twinkling eyes lay ever rotating gears.

It is perhaps a combination of power, kindness and intelligence that made him the man he was, but in any instance, he always found himself thankful for those connections he had made in his life. It was with this in mind that only several days after the release of his students for the summer holidays that he was walking at a rather brisk pace down the hallway of the New York offices of the International Confederation of Wizards.

There had been many things on his mind as of late, and though he knew that there were many things to be done back home that were probably more important, he felt that being here was also of great import, never mind that few details were given. The message he had received from his old acquaintance in New York was sudden, but clear.

'I know you are busy in the political realm, but you may find what I have for you rather important.'

Were this anyone else, Albus Dumbledore would have written back that he simply hadn't the time. But as it was, Mr. Bradley Jackson was worth the trip. Though he couldn't exactly call him a friend(you typically saw friends more than once a decade or so), Mr. Jackson was one of those people who saw the benefits of a world where nationality should not matter if one country was in need of the assistance of another. Proof of this came during the second World War when they had first met to discuss help for those in London. Muggle weaponry had not been something many in the wizarding world felt was a problem, but the bombings that began in the fall of 1940 changed minds quickly enough.

British wizards were at a loss of what to do. Blasting hexes had never been able to do so much damage as the devices created by muggles. Some felt that this was the result of being ignorant of the muggle world for some centuries, but as the past had come and gone, nothing could be done about it. But they soon learned that not everyone was ignoring muggle technology. When the American Wizarding Association sent their own to help, armed with specialized spells to help structural collapse and defensive shielding, the populace in Britain was quite relieved. Mr. Jackson had been one of the warders that had come to assist and had been directed to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was a concern from some that the school might become subject to the same blasting that had been occuring around the country, never mind that the castle was nowhere near a populated muggle city, and it was there that Professor Dumbledore had met Mr. Jackson. It didn't take long to both set the wards and teach a handful of the professors how to renew them every few years.

It was about five years later that the two men met again, this time among others to discuss the growing problem of the dark wizard Grindelwald. It was a short conference, but both gave the other a tip of the head and a friendly smile. Over the years they saw each other on occasion, but it was around spring of 1979 that the Headmaster of Hogwarts received a message via the portrait of Marcus Dalton, a lesser known headmaster whose portrait also hung in a gallery of notable people in the International Confederation buildings in New York. The message said to meet in a section of the Gardens of Versailles. It was there that information was exchanged on the attempt of recruitment in the United States by a group of men who called themselves 'Death Eaters', as well as some intelligence of smuggled goods that had made it out of the US, and some that had been intercepted before pickup. It was information that was appreciated.

It was with a small amount of trepidation that Albus Dumbledore knocked on the closed door to Bradley Jackson's office. There was no knowing what he might discover within.

"Enter."

He did so. Inside he found the man he hadn't seen since that spring in 1979. It was a comfort to see that he looked the same as then, graying hair and all. Jackson stood in front of a window to the left, looking out on a city he'd seen change so much in what seemed so little time. Turning his head, the old warder gave Albus a small smile, happy to see that the man was still in good shape, all things considered as of late. He walked forward to clasp the Headmaster's hand in a firm shake before gesturing that the man take a seat in front of the desk along the right wall. Sitting in his own seat, Jackson reached down to pull a file from the lower drawer of his desk.

"I apologize if it was inconvenient to come, but I was almost certain you'd want to see this for yourself. Probably not what you'd expect, but all things considered," he paused a moment as he opened the small file folder, "I thought that maybe you'd being doing us both a favor."

He took a piece of paper from the folder, a bit faded but legible all the same, and slid it across his desk. Dumbledore took the proffered paper and adjusted his glasses before reading it. Very few things were able to surprise the old teacher, but this document certainly made him raise his eyebrows.

"You're certain this document hasn't been tampered with?" he asked, his eyes raised to the man across the desk.

"Positive, an old friend in the record department checked it. You know how they are down there, 'If it's not real we don't file it.'"

"Certainly there should have been a copy of this in hospital records?"

"We checked, but came up with nothing. We can only assume a clerical error somewhere. We've made a copy of that one, but the copy is right here until the situation has been...further assessed."

The meaning certainly wasn't misunderstood. He glanced at the document again.

Name: Alice Lydia Snape
Born: August 28th 1981
Mother: Regina Cynthia Morgan
Father: Severus Snape

"We can't be certain about the paternity without testing, but even then..." Jackson trailed off and stared out the window behind Albus for a few moments before continuing. "I remember reading about the trials, after all the Confederation has the official transcripts. I know you vouched for him, but I can't hand off a kid to him, what with the news we've been getting in, in good conscience."
He looked to Dumbledore. "I caught that about three days ago. Seems Regina Morgan was into some pretty shaky stuff and managed to succumb to a coma. Random call to muggle 911 but we managed to pick it up. The girl wasn't home at the time, but the healing responders and the accompanying Guardian said the apartment was a...less than ideal home for anyone, nevermind a child. After Morgan was brought to the hospital the place was searched. From what I'm told, the girl came home and pulled her wand on the search team, wasn't sure who they were. They explained, showed some identification and from what I've heard, she seemed relieved."

The men shared a look, they knew what that probably meant.

"They took her into custody there, but I don't think she was happy about that. Said something about how she'd be fine on her own, but not a chance in hell we could let her just walk away. She was asked if she had any relatives she could stay with, said no. They found the birth certificate in a box under Morgan's bed and asked the girl about her father. She said that not only did she not know him, but she didn't even know his name. When they showed her the paper she said it was a fake, because her name was Alice Morgan."

Jackson slid the rest of the file folder over the desk.

"We couldn't find any other record for an Alice Snape, but we did find plenty for Alice Morgan."

Dumbledore glanced at the clerical files briefly, but his attention became focused on the picture he found. It was a profile picture of a young blonde girl with large streaks of red in her hair. He supposed she didn't like having her picture taken, or otherwise was unhappy with the current predicament, as she had leveled a rather fierce glare at the camera.

He would know that look anywhere.