Newt and Queenie get a message that is both a relief and a worry, and Dumbledore does what Dumbledore does best: think he knows best.

***

Newt Scamander had never been so surprised in his life, and he had seen a Dark Lord impersonate an American Auror.

"The Potters were betrayed by one of their own and murdered by the Dark Lord. Their one-year-old son, Harry, is deemed the vanquisher of Voldemort. Voldemort is dead. It's over."

The niffler Patronus of Theseus, his older brother, remained standing on the table, telling him about the downfall of the most recent Dark Lord, Voldemort, and his merry band of misfits. He snorted every time he heard the name "Voldemort;" he just could not help it. Who would name himself "Voldemort"? It reminded him of a villain trying too hard in a book and named himself something incredibly funny and absolutely stupid. He wasn't about to start on his thoughts about the name "Death Eaters."

He finally nodded, and the dark silver Patronus dissolved into wisps of smoke. The only other occupant of the reserve's house stepped away from where she had been preparing dinner, carefully placing a hand on Newt's shoulder. "It's over?" she asked softly, her New York accent less prominent than it had been when they'd first met all those years ago.

Newt sighed, relaxing his white-knuckled grip on the back of the chair. "Yes," he nodded. "It's over." He reached his hand up to pet the actual niffler in his arms, smiled at him, and then back up at his best friend, his sister.

The woman sighed in relief. "Then Theseus and Tina are safe, sugar. They'll find a way to let us know they're okay."

That statement was all he needed to sigh in relief and turn to Queenie, nodding. "They're safe," he agreed. "For now."

Queenie, ever the Legilimens, read his mind. "Dumbledore," she said softly.

"Dumbledore," he confirmed. "There's only one person who would hail a child, of all people, a vanquisher like that."

Queenie sighed. "And the manipulations continue."

Newt nodded, staring at the spot where Theseus's niffler Patronus, an almost mirror image of his own, once stood. "As they always do."

***

Of several witches and wizards in the Wizarding World, few could see past the many masks and faces of Albus Dumbledore like Newt Scamander and Queenie Goldstein. It was why, as the years following Gindelwald's defeat went on and on, they distanced themselves further from the so-called Light Lord, who called for all supporters of Grindelwald to be executed for following his former best friend. It was their elder siblings, the other two that received the gift of Nicholas Flamel's Elixir of Life for their actions in the war, who managed to stand between them and Dumbledore, allowing Newt and Queenie to make their escape to New York.

It left Theseus entangled in the British Ministry of Magic as the head of the Aurors and Tina his American counterpart. The golden older siblings of their families, in the spotlight for the important roles they played in the Global Wizarding War. It was a price both were willing to pay if it meant Newt and Queenie were safe. They were no strangers to manipulations, not when they were surrounded by them daily, both among friends and foes.

And it was not just the Wizarding World where manipulations shaped destinies. For in Phoenix, Arizona, a woman sent through a wardrobe by her lonesome approached the end of her prison sentence, still recovering from the birth of a boy she put up for adoption as soon as he was born. In Maine, in a town that should not have existed, that baby boy slept in the arms of a woman the rest of the world considered a fairytale, her lips painted red as blood and curled in a smile.

And outside the woman's mansion, the residents of Storybrooke continued on with their day, exactly as they had done for the past eighteen years . . . the same amount of time the baby boy's birth mother had lived.

***

On that same cold, windy October night in Little Whinging, Surrey (Number 4 Privet Drive, to be precise), a baby boy arrived at the doorstep in the care of a man wearing long blue robes, with a long, silver beard, half-moon spectacles, and twinkling blue eyes. He left the baby's basket at the door; atop the boy, he placed a letter to the occupants of the house, which contained everything the family needed to know: the boy's name, what had occurred that evening, and what he required of them as he left the boy in their care.

The rustle of fabric on stone made him turn to his companion, a woman with hair in a too-tight bun, green robes, and a stern expression on her face. She looked from the man to the baby and back again as they walked away from the house and down the road, away from the Muggles. "Are you sure we should do this?" she whispered, eyes darting about the neighborhood. "These Muggles are terrible people! I've been watching them all day. The man, Mr. Dursley, is aggressive and the woman, Petunia, is absolutely nothing like her sister. I'm not sure we should be leaving Harry Potter, of all children, with these Muggles. He won't be safe!"

The old man gave her a well-practiced understanding look, and he nodded and put his hand on her arm, attempting to soothe her. "He will be fine, Minerva. He has to be placed here, for his own safety," he explained.

Minerva looked at him with a withering glare. She had heard that vague tone many times before. "And what, pray tell, Albus, is the reason behind placing the Boy Who Lived here?"

Albus looked back at her calmly, immune to the glare sent his way. He waved off her concerns and her cold tone as he looked back at the baby on the doorstep. "Lily died protecting him, and her love for him protected Harry. It manifested in an unknown spell that protected him from the Killing Curse. As long as he is with his blood relatives, Harry Potter is safe. He cannot leave here until he is 17, an of-age wizard."

Minerva huffed, but without anything to counter the wizard's case, she said nothing more. She knew this baby was going to go through a lot in his lifetime, given what he had already done at a mere one year of age . . . but she would never be able to fathom just how much he would face in a lifetime no one could have predicted.

***

And we're off and rolling! As a heads-up to readers, we will be collaborating on chapters and writing every step of the way, and as soon as we decide a chapter is finished, we will work to upload it as soon as we can. It's a process we hope you have patience with, and we will do our best to deliver quality content every time.

With that in mind, always keep an eye out! Hopefully the first chapter will be ready to go soon.

~ WritersBlock039

***

Here we go everyone! Get ready for the ride of your lives! We hope you can keep up with us, and as always, stay safe, stay healthy, and read on.

~ cocoflavoredd