Yours Regardless

Prologue

           The night was dark, cold, eerie, he was back and back with a vengeance. Diagon Alley was the safest place at the moment, hiding in plain sight was an underestimated art. The gravel on the ground crunched and sputtered as the black heels of the cloaked figure walked closer to the third lamp post. With a nervous turn, the man kicked up one leg, resting it on the post, and he waited. He picked at his fingers, luckily he had his head covered or else he would agitate his unkempt hair that never really wanted to bend to any rules, much like the person they grew from. He checked his watch and let out a shaky breath, he hated waiting. It was a moment of silence until a whoosh sounded off a few feet away, the man was no longer waiting. One became two as another man approached him in a hurry, hands shaking around a bundle of blankets. The blankets were tattered, resembling rags more than actual blankets, if he didn't know any better he'd say the blankets were being taken out to be thrown away, but he knew better.

           "I hope I didn't have you waiting long." The new addition said with a noticeable shake in his voice.

The cloaked man gave a look telling him not to bother apologizing, he understood.

          "You think this will work?" He pulled the hood off with a nervous bout of energy.

With a firm hand on the shoulder of the aparated man, he seemed to visibly cease shifting and take in a breath. The newly arrived man pulled back the blankets with a proud glint in his eye, he was looking down at his child, his girl. Within a second of time, his face hardened as though he watched the most gruesome of deaths just before him, and he shoved the bundle of blankets and sleeping baby into his friends arms. The man used the cloak to cover as much of the child as he could while making sure she stayed asleep. The father leaned down one last time to his daughters head peeking out just barely through the material, and offered a gentle kiss to her forehead and let a single tear fall to her cherub like face.

           "Make it work, Prongs." 

✧ ✧ ✧

           That wind swept up cooly, and fell with tragedy. It seemed as though the elements weren't even spared from the sadness that was the death of James and Lily Potter. Yet many couldn't help but rejoice at the fact that he was gone, not permanently, no, but people were safe for now.

The wind nipped bitterly at Hagrid's cheeks as he carefully flew with two sleeping children wrapped in his one giant arm, he was on his way to find Albus Dumbledore, a man who knew what to do next, a rarity in these times.

           "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, his tone relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

           "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir, but..." The painfully large man trailed off as he opened the side of his jacket to reveal not one but two sleeping babies, a boy with a bright red lightning bolt etched into his forehead and a girl, eyes wide open, observing the people before her.

            "Who...whose child is she?" Minerva McGonagall asked in a harsh whisper at the giant. She had been waiting with Dumbledore for the arrival of Hagrid and one child, not two.

           "She was in there with 'im Professor. Didn't cry once, but eyes looking at me like that the entire time. I couldn't leave 'er." Hagrid said in a quick panic, remembering the two children laying on a single crib, the boy asleep and the girl keeping watch.

Dumbledore took the mysterious child from the towering man, the other two occupied themselves talking to each other as Dumbledore subtly put a hand to the watching child's forehead. With a knowing smile he re-entered the conversation, just in time too as they asked him what to do with the newest addition to the plan.

           "Not to worry, I'll take this one. I know who would take care of her well." He concluded with a knowing smile, the other two didnt seem to catch on. "We better take the boy to his aunt and uncle's door, then I've a letter for them." Dumbledore tucked a letter into the basket Hagrid had placed the young boy in.

Hagrid let out a powerful yelp, not unsimilar to that of a wounded predator, "Oh, let me look at them one more time, please."

McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh, but leaned towards him with the girl, she was handed to the female professor while Dumbledore took the basket with the sleeping boy a few minutes prior. Dumbledore then stood still while Hagrid looked toward the boy in the basket, the boy who stopped it all.

The next morning the Dursley's woke up to their nephew on the front porch, dread filling their stomachs as Petunia, Mrs. Dursley, let a few silent tears collect in her eyes, they were wiped away immediately with a stoic look of resentment.

The girl however was miles away, in the arms of Albus Dumbledore as he walked a familiar route to a house he knew was occupied by the man he had in mind. With a swift knock, the wizard stood back and waited. The exterior was dark, rather boring if you asked the old wizard but it would have to do. Just as Dumbledore looked to the chipping window sill and thought to repair it with a flick of his wand, the door opened slowly to reveal a looming figure.

           "Unexpected visit, even for you, sir." The deep, slow voice stated. A natural venom dripped from each word, not toward Dumbledore but toward all misfortune.

He hadn't seemed to notice the finally sleeping child in Dumbledore's arms until just then. With a look of shock, even the brooding man couldn't mask, he backed away into his home, inviting the older gentleman in. Dumbledore took quick steps in and the door shut behind him, a talk was in order.

           "You can't ask this of me." The raven haired mourner sneered, his hand coming to scratch at a fading mark on the inside of his forearm.

Dumbledore chuckled as he handed the now awake and fussing child to the man. Taking the child, and becoming rigid he couldn't help but notice the child seemed to calm incredibly in his arms as she looked into his eyes with more understanding than should be allowed for someone only a few months old. He seemed to lose focus of the world around him as the young child put her small hand on the black material of his tunic. The older wizard gave a knowing smile, an expression that found his face often.

           "Her name is Charlize, and you'll make a great father Severus."