D𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Dumbledore sat at his desk, head in his hands. How could he be so wrong? 

The prophecy had clearly said one child would defeat the dark lord, and that was little Harry Potter. Except Harry was now 15, about to go into his 5th Year at Hogwarts. How was Dumbledore supposed to know that all three possible candidates, Neville, Harry and Amara would all play a part in bringing down the dark Lord? Now, he had to someone bring one Amara Potter back from the dead, or see if she had survived that night when he abandoned her in the forest. He groaned slightly as he stood up, grabbing his wand. The wood felt uneasy in his hand, but that could be the knot of dread that was settling in his stomach.

"This is what you deserve, you know that," Phineas Nigell drawled from his portrait, Dumbledore paying no attention to him as he strode from the room, disappearing with a pop. 

He landed softly on the ground of Beacon Hills once more, feeling the magic in the air. Determined, he set off, sending scathing glares to those who looked at him funny. It was probably his robes, they were navy blue with stars. He hummed as he made his way down the high street, so far no sign of one Miss Amara Potter. Perhaps she had died after all. It was when he got to the cemetery gate, that he heard a soft whimper. He turned suddenly, and saw a youngish girl sat there. Dumbledore felt his breath hitch in his throat. It was her, it had to be. She had Lily's ginger hair, that sat around her shoulders, and her face was decorated with freckles. She was practically an exact replica of her mother, until it came to the eyes. They were hazel, James's hazel to be precise. The light of the sun shone off them, making them appear to be glistening. However, her eyes were also glossed over with tears, and Dumbledore had to strain his ears to hear what she was saying. 

"Oh Laura, I'm so sorry," she was crying, "We should have protected you. I...I just wanted you to know Peter's back, he's still bitter, but he's getting...getting better. I'm... I'm visiting him this afternoon, we're having lunch. I...I miss you." Dumbledore was in shock at the display, who was this Laura person. He glanced at the grave stone, narrowing his eyes.

𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎

𝙰 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚐𝚎 25

𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 1968

𝙳𝚒𝚎𝚍 1993

Dumbledore didn't know anything about this so called Hale, but he assumed she must of taken Amara in.

"Lola, Lola?" He saw a boy run over, grabbing Amara, or he guessed Lola was her name, in his arms. She lent on him, her tears now running freely down her face. Honestly, Dumbledore thought with a snort, crying about deaths wouldn't do a thing. He turns on his heel and leaves Amara to her crying, at least he knew she was alive. Now he just had to explain to one Lily and James Potter that their daughter, who was presumed dead, was in fact alive.

☆。*。☆。

As Dumbledore landed in front of Grimmauld Place, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten even more. Placing his best grandfatherly smile on his face, he entered the building. The awful smell still lingered, which left him wondering if Molly Weasley had actually cleaned at all. It was still dark and dingy, the aura of dark magic ever present. 

"HALF-BLOODS. MUDBLOODS. FILTH WALKING MY HALLS. I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS. CONSPIRING WITH WEREWOLVES, AND I THOUGHT THE BLACK FAMILY COULD SINK NO LOWER," Walburga Blacks screams echoed through the house, though Dumbledore payed no attention to her as he walked through to the dining room.

"Dumbledore sir, we weren't told you were coming," Molly said, scrambling up from her seat to greet him. He shook her hand before taking his place as head of the table, knowing everyone was watching him with a firm gaze.

"I have been informed of some news," he started softly. The Potter's, along with Black and Lupin, had taken Amara's loss hard, and he didn't want an outburst that would leave Grimmauld Place burning to the ground.

"What kind of news?" Minerva asked, and Dumbledore assumed she expected the worse.

"Good news, all good news, depending on how you look at it of course," Dumbledore chuckled, a few weakly joining in.

"Well," James Potter started, "What is this 'amazing' news?" No one commented on his obvious sarcasm, though Minerva did purse her lips.

"It seems Amara Potter is alive."

The sentence sent the entire table into pieces. Many stood up, shouting and exclaiming things, none of which were understood. Moody for one had taken to shouting, his stick left resting by the table.

Sirius and Remus were both deathly pale, grasping onto each other like their life depended on it.

"Impossible," Sirius was whispering, shaking his head, "We checked the whole country, no trace of her anywhere." 

Lily and James were also deathly pale, though an angry look had taken over James's face.

"You must be mistaken," his voice carried across the whole room, bringing the shouting matches to a standstill, "We looked everywhere, there was no trace. You said it yourself headmaster, she was dead."

Dumbledore chuckled sheepishly, before raising his hands to address the table. Those stood up promptly sat down, all hearing to see what the headmaster was going to say.

"It seems I made a mistake," he started, James snorting from his seat, "She was found in Beacon Hills, a small town in America, I assume Voldemort must of scared her that she accidentally apparated, powerful accidental magic. That or one of Voldemort's followers got to her first and relocated her." Small sobs were coming from Lily, James trying to comfort his hysteric wife. 

"How do you know it's her?" Severus Snape said icily from down the table. It was clear he didn't want another Potter spawn in the country, but Dumbledore paid no heed. 

"She looks exactly like Lily, with James's eyes. That and the wave of magic coming from her was outstanding." The table is silent while they digested the news. 

"Well," Remus said coldly, "What are you going to do with this news?" Dumbledore was stumped. That was a question he had hoped wouldn't come up, at least not for a few weeks. But it was clear Lily and James wanted to meet their daughter, and Sirius was looking at him with them unnerving grey eyes. A trait that all the Black family seemed to inherit.

"I'm going to ask her to come to England."