Jocelyn Dumbledore and the Sorcerer's Stone

The Boy Who Lived On The Day She Was Born

They stood together in the shadows, watching the tiny baby sleep, snuggled safely in his blanket. Completely unaware that his world had just changed for all time. Each contemplated what the events of the night would mean going forward.

"He will be safe enough here. The threat has passed, for the time being. Perhaps we should take our leave." Dumbledore tipped his head in a nod to Professor McGonagall, and made to sweep past her.

At the last second, her hand shot out, catching the edge of his robe. "And what of the other child, Albus? The girl?"

"His child, you mean? Voldemort's child."

"Yes," she whispered, glancing around fearfully, as though the mere mention of his name could bring him back.

For a long moment, Dumbledore stood in silent thought. He had been pondering the girl for some time now. Born this very day, and orphaned just as surely as the boy who they had gone to such lengths to save by bringing him to this temporary safe haven. No such safe haven existed for the girl. The product of an illicit affair between the Dark Lord and a fairy woman held captive and tortured for months, she would be accepted by neither race. Although the child would grow to be extraordinarily powerful, she was wanted nowhere, would be protected by none. And though a part of Dumbledore agreed that the child would be dangerous if allowed to grow, he could not help feeling that she still had a necessary part to play in the events to come. And perhaps, he thought, having a loving home, the likes of which Voldemort never knew, would make all the difference in how the child will grow.

Finally, he sighed, coming to terms with the decision that he had been struggling with for many moons now. "I can see no other option. The child is an innocent, regardless of the circumstances of her birth. I will not sentence her to death for crimes she did not commit."

"But who will take her, Albus? Who will want such a child? What if she grows to be just as dark as her sire?"

"Ah, but what if she grows to be the light needed to combat the darkness?" Dumbledore nodded to himself, his choice made. "The girl will come to live with me."

"With you?" McGonagall laid a hand over her heart. "Come now, Albus. What would you do with a child?"

He laughed softly. "Love her, Minerva. I suspect that given a little love, this child will grow to be a force of great good. She will be perhaps the only person capable of helping our young Mr. Potter should Voldemort ever return."

McGonagall stood in shocked silence, absorbing everything he had said. She thought him mad, but she had known him long enough to know that Dumbledore's inklings were as good as another man's sure knowledge. "Well. I doubt any child has had such an upbringing before. She will certainly be in a unique position, calling Hogwarts her home. I don't suppose her presence will encourage Peeves to behave himself." She frowned, considering the ramifications of having a toddler wander about the castle. Extra precautions would need to be made.

"Calm yourself, Minerva. Worrying about tomorrow will do naught but steal the joy from today.

Gathering her wits, Minerva sniffed, adjusting her robes. "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Have you decided on a name for the child?"

After another thoughtful pause, Dumbledore let out a little smile. "I have always been fond of the name Jocelyn."

"Jocelyn Dumbledore," Minerva mused. "Let us hope she grows into the person you believe she will."

The two colleagues separated, each going their own way. As he had sent Hagrid to collect Harry, he had sent Severus to find and bring back Jocelyn. Severus was distraught, he knew, and he thought it best to give him something productive to focus on. He expected that they would be waiting in his quarters for him when he returned. Life as he knew it, as everyone knew it, had changed. Everyone else thought the war was over, but Dumbledore knew better. This battle had been won, at a terrible cost, but the fighting was far from done. The final battle was still to come, and if the world had any prayer of surviving, Dumbledore had much work ahead of him.

Still, he could do nothing else at the moment. It was time to go home. It was time to meet the daughter he never dared hope to have.