Disclaimer: This story is purely a work from my imagination, and I in no way hope to profit from it. The characters do not belong to me, and probably only the ones from my imagination are.

Authors' Note: Firstly, to those still looking for my other story A Werewolf's Charms, well, inspiration has not struck for about a year. In fact,I had banished it from my mind. Terribly sorry about that, as I do know whereI want to go from my plot, and whereI want it to end up, but I have absolutely no clue how to reach it. So grant me a few more months to figure it out:)

Meanwhile, this is the new plot stuck in my head. I had to get it out somehow, and I must say so far it is at least 3 times longer than my last story. Inspired by a plot bunny and a vivid image of Harry and Draco kissing in a corridor, so well, the plot just ran away from there. Hope you guys like it, and review!

Summary: Harry Potter's brother, William Potter, was thought to be the Chosen one the night Voldemort fell. Sent to an orphanage, Harry Potter grew up without knowing his previous family, one still alive and well in England. What happens when the mistake is discovered, and his family wants him back? And what does Draco, the broodingly sexy Veelawant with him?

The year was 1979. The month, November. The war with Voldemort was still only in its beginning stages, yet the fear that swept the wizarding world was real, and pandemic. Many old families had already been wiped out, with the Potters, Longbottoms, and a few others left barely standing. Those, like the Malfoys and Parkinsons, having already pledged their allegiance to the dark side since the beginning of the wizarding world, were counted as lost. People's disappearance each day was a common occurrence heralded in The Daily Prophet, and whether their disappearance was due to elimination due to death by Lord Voldemort's servants, the Death Eaters, or due to them going into hiding or even joining the shadowy forces, was anyone's guess. The Order of the Phoenix, having just been started the previous year, barely had enough resources or manpower to make the difference in the world it hoped to. Yet, one man had reason to believe that this all might change. And this very hope, was the reason why he had apparated all the way to a lonely village in North Russia, and proceeded to make the long trek up the mystic mountain, housing the medium, Anastyna Mrins.

This man was Albus Dumbledore, the founder of The Order of the Phoenix, and winner of many accolades, such as defeating the dark lord Grindelwand when he rose to power years ago, and his brilliance in Transfiguration. His awards even included those in ten-pin bowling. Yet, these could not properly describe the reasons why he was the one hoped in the wizarding world to be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. For he was the only one with skills matching, or even surpassing those that his darker counterpart possessed. The world believed it, surely it had to be true.

Yet, this one man knew what the rest of the world did not.

Perhaps now he could indeed defeat Voldemort, yet, Dumbledore knew for certain in three years, perhaps even two, he would not. For his powers were on the decline, even now. And Voldemort was smart. He knew this. Hence, the wait. And the seemingly cowardly retreats whenever a mission led by Voldemort himself was met with one led by Dumbledore. For Voldemort was no fool. And Voldemort, even led by pride as he was, would never allow himself to face a man he knew he was not capable of overtaking now, not just yet. No, Albus was not the one who would save the world this time.

The world needed much newer blood to save them.

Yet, the one who could save them was not in the world, at least, yet. Albus had seen almost all the scions of notable families around the world. None of them possessed enough power or promise to overthrow the Dark Lord. Not now, not later, not even with intensive training from Albus himself. Albus had also visited the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. All unanimously pointed out the lack of signs in the skies from the last decade. No, the Chosen One had not entered the world yet, that Albus was sure of.

But, he derived hope from what an elderly centaur had promised to him, at the end of his visit.


Albus felt his heart pound within his chest, and he heaved an age-old sigh, for the first time in his visit showing how very tired he was. Of hoping, of looking for a sign that seemed not to appear. He prepared to leave the clearing where he in, with centaurs all around. They knew not what he was seeking, and neither could they provide answers, for the skies held nothing for him. The centaurs had nothing more for him. But, as he was rising to his feet, an elderly centaur, with a silvery grey mane approached him. The clearing of centaurs grew silent, viewing the elder with respect. The centaur eyed him, and with a flicker of his eyes, decided to address him.

'Wizard.' the centaur proclaimed. 'You come here seeking answers from the stars, and those who watch them. Perhaps you hold no true faith in them, as we do. Yet i tell you this, as is my duty. What you have hoped for, will come.'

The centaur paused for a moment, considering his next words. And Albus allowed himself to believe, for a fragment of a second, that things might be different.

'Pluto, the symbol for enormous power, which can release untold energy, has been in the skies recently. Pluto stands for awesome achievements to be gained, and the ability to change the world, with its powers in the right hands.' The centaur paused gravely. 'In normal cases, Pluto shines but only faintly in the lives of which it touches. Yet it is different now. This year, is the year that Pluto lines up with the Sun, the symbol of power, and nobility, even royalty. The last time this occured, the founder of your wizarding world was born.' With a slight stamping of his hooves, the centaur turned to leave. Yet, Albus caught his parting words to him.

'The child which you hope for, to save the world, will be conceived before the year sets.'

Albus Dumbledore kept the secret close to his heart, choosing not to reveal it even to his most trusted of all confidants. He would wait til the child was born, and his powers fully known, then would this secret be let out to the world. Should the secret be let out prematurely, it would possibly result in the elimination of the world's biggest hope by throngs of Death Eaters, before the powers of the child could be harnessed properly.

He, however, would do whatever he could to make the Dark Lord slightly less indestructible then what he was now. Starting from the Dark Lord's right-hand man, which was Lucius Malfoy and his family. And this, was the very reason Albus Dumbledore was trudging up a hill in mid-winter, in search of the one woman that could help him in his quest.

Lucius Malfoy

Lucius Malfoy scowled slightly as he apparated into the storage room of the only pub in the Russian village. The stale odor of dusty boxes, and shelves of wine, permeated through the air. It was, quite possibly, the crampiest and most foul of all storerooms he'd ever been forced to apparate into. The scowl disappeared though, as his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, apparated next to him, stumbling a little as she tried to find her footing.

'Careful, Cissa.' He admonished, looping a hand around her waist. 'Wouldn't want our little dragon to get hurt would we?' with a smirk.

He stepped aside with a sparkle in his eyes as Narcissa swatted his shoulder. 'And what about me, honey? Don't you worry about my safety?'

His face became more serious. Moving to hold her tight, he whispered in her ear. 'All the time, honey. You're my world.' Narcissa smiled softly. 'I know that, Luce. I've always known that.'

As Lucius walked up the mountain, alternately bracing Narcissa against the winds, and looking out for potential threats, he contemplated the road that led him here again.

Everyone knew the Malfoy family. Their ancestors traced back all the way to when the very wizarding world was founded. Those in the know, however, knew the Malfoy family was not as loyal to the dark side as many believed. A family, where neither Dark nor Light meant anything to them. A family where Veela blood coursed through their very veins, their only true loyalty lay where their mate was. Should their mate have been in different side as the family, the whole family would have switched alleigances overnight. Family came first, no matter what. The Dark Lord knew that, and so did Dumbledore. Yet, should the family turn to the Light, after so many generations of being in the Dark, Lucius knew Voldemort would not dare to hold it against him. Veelas did not choose their mates, it was written in the stars. With the Dark Lord and those beofe him, the Malfoy family had formed an understanding of some sort. Voldemort knew should his son and heir have a Light mate, there would be nothing he could do to stop it.

And that, was the reason he was here on this deserted mountain. He was looking for an Anastyna Mrins, the one person who all Veelas placed their trust in unreservedly. This Anastyna, was one in a long line of clairvoyants who had accuratedly predicted the sides Veela mates would be on. She could indeed tell the specifics of a mate, yet her family had long held of the belief that too much knowledge would instead harm, instead of help. She herself, had been the one to pronounce to his father, when he had been brought to her a mere babe of six months, that Lucius' mate would come from the same side as he was on at that present. And his father had placed absolute trust in her words.

They did not prove false.

When Lucius received his inheritance, at midnight on his 17th birthday, he too received his mate. Narcissa Black, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Blacks, in his own house of Slytherin. The Blacks and the Malfoys were delighted at the union of the two lines.

Lucius had sometimes wondered, had his mate not been of a pureblooded line, would his parents still have been as delighted? Now, however, with his own son soon to come into the world, Lucius knew that with certainty even had his little Draco had a mate that was a despised mudblood, he would have welcomed it, if only to see his little dragon reach such happiness as he had shared with Narcissa.

Lucius looked up, and saw the entrance to the cave looming up just ahead. They had arrived.

Three hours ago,


Dumbledore finally made it to the entrance of the cave. Entering, he noticed the surroundings had not changed, since he had ventured into this particular cave more than half a century ago. The floor was damp, and the only light entered through the entrance of the cave. At first glance, the cave appeared no different from any other, yet, it was different indeed. He carefully walked around the perimeter, scrutinizing the mildew-ridden walls. Upon noticing a particular indentation in the rocks, he smiled wryly, and poking his wand into the knot, he muttered a soft incantation, The wall disappeared, revealing a dimly lit tunnel, leading into the nether earth.

Tucking his wand safely into his robes, Dumbledore ventured into the tunnel, as the cave wall reappeared behind him, closing off the world behind.

He walked on for about five minutes, before he noticed a faint glimmering of light ahead. Stepping out of the tunnel, he saw before him the very Anastyna Mrins. Her long, almost whitish blond hair hung over her face, as she sat at a low table, gazing into the fire.

'Welcome, Albus.' She smiled, the light reflecting off her deep blue eyes. 'We have much to talk about, don't we?'

She steepled her hands, and resting her elbows on the top of the low table she was seated at, gestured for Dumbledore to sit opposite her.

Dumbledore settled himself into the low chair beside the table. 'Anastyna.' he greeted. 'You don't look any older then you did 50 years ago.'

She laughed, a musical note that lilted softly in the air. 'Don't flatter me, Albus. Though it is true, we clairvoyants weather slower than those on the outside, with the evils of the world to resist.' She grew silent though, and viewed him thoughtfully over the table. 'You've come here asking about the Malfoy heir, haven't you?' She inquired softly. 'How are things holding up for you, and the Order of the Phoenix?'

Dumbledore did not express any surprise at how she came to know about the secret society. With nothing much to do in a cave beyond meditating, and peering into the future, a medium tended to get extremely bored. Leaning forward on the table, he proceeded to tell her all about the situation of the world outside.

Much, much later, he settled back again, looking upon Anastyna with eyes that belied his age without its usual twinkle. 'I see.' The medium frowned. 'Things are heading to the extreme there. It's no wonder you and your kind are getting worried. I can see why the Malfoys would be invaluable to your cause. Yet Albus, i can't promise you anything. The fire doesn't lie, and i can't manipulate it, even if i tried. A Veela's mate is predetermined. It is not up to us to pick and choose.'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Somehow i knew you would say that.' He admitted. He looked up, with a slight idea in his mind. 'Could I just watch the family for a while though? I know they're on their way here, perhaps i could just look in while you work your fire for them.'

Anastyna smiled. 'You know I'd do anything for you, Dumbledore.'

Dumbledore gave her a grateful smile. As he heard footsteps draw closer, echoing against the walls of the tunnel, he quickly retreated to a dim corner, muttering an advanced disillusionment spell as he did so.

Lucius Malfoy and his wife stepped into the cave a minute later. He bowed deeply. 'Anastyna' He pronounced formally.

'Lucius Malfoy, and your wife, Narcissa.' Upon Anastyna's smile and greeting of acknowledgement, he put a hand around Narcissa's shoulder, leading her to the table. Seating her at the table, he then pulled a chair up for himself.

'You know what I'm here for.' He said, more a statement then a question, silvery-gray eyes piercing into hers.

Anastyna smiled her mysterious smile. 'True,' she agreed. 'Your son's mate. I did expect to see you a bit later though. Perhaps when your child had been born.'

Narcissa interrupted. 'We thought it'd be better to come earlier.' She demurred, glancing at her husband. 'The Dark Lord... of late he has been pressing us for an answer towards our loyalty for the upcoming decade. Draco may have been conceived but three months ago, but you should be able to tell us his mate, even now. We wish to know of the answer before the child is born, to determine if our loyalty belongs to the Light, or the Dark.'

Anastyna pensively gazed at the couple. 'Come,' she beckoned, leading them to the center of the chamber, where a silent, blue fire burned. She threw some powder from a pot into the fire, watching as it stirred into life. The Malfoys leaned closer to the fire, drawn to the cloudy images that were soon moving to life in the flame.

A boy's face soon swam into view. His light blond hair hung loosely, brushing his shoulders and framing his chiseled face, with high cheekbones, and a strong jaw. His eyes were silvery gray, like his father's, yet, burning with a light that Narcissa had seen before, on the day that Lucius had found her.

Narcissa raised a hand towards the image. 'Draco...' she murmured. Anastyna nodded. 'A fine young man he'll become.' She predicted. 'Now..hear what he has to say.'

Draco turned slightly to the side, obviously addressing someone else. 'Mother!' He exclaimed with such affection and excitement that that Narcissa felt her heart give a squeeze, for the man her son would be, and how proud she felt of him even now, when he was not even in this world yet.

'I found him! After all this time, I found him here of all places. Isn't this wonderful?' His eyes shone bright, and Narcissa watched as an older version of her and Lucius ran over to embrace Draco, sharing in his joy.

The older version of Lucius leaned out of the three-way hug. 'And what house does he belong to, son?' Draco put a hand on his father's shoulders. 'Gryffindor, dad.'

Lucius chuckled deeply. 'As we always knew it would be, Drake.' Laughing affectionately, they embraced yet again.

Narcissa watched as the image faded away, plunging back into the recesses of the fire. 'Now, you have your answer.' the clairvoyant whispered. 'Draco Malfoy, the first in six generations of Malfoy to have a Light mate.'

Lucius looked at her straight in the eye. 'And we love him all the same. Possibly even more now.'

The medium smiled. 'I never had any doubt.' As she showed them to the entrance of the tunnel, she reminded them. 'Remember, Draco should never be party to what you saw today. After all...'

Lucius finished her sentence for her. '-The chase, and what he receives in the end is what makes it all worthwhile.' Giving the medium a conspiratorial glance, he then looped his arm around Narcissa. 'My father told me that, and he was never proved wrong. Besides, like in my case, you never gave him any specifics, such as hair colour anyway. What could I tell?' Shrugging his shoulders, he pulled Narcissa forwards. 'Let's be off honey, before it's twilight and the dratted mountain starts snowing! Now all that remains is to inform Lord Voldemort...'

With an amiable wave goodbye, the Malfoys departed.

As the footsteps finally died down into nothingness, Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows, his familiar twinkle now firmly back in his eyes. 'Your fire has shown me the most welcome news yet, Anastyna. The Malfoys might not join the Light side yet, however now at least they would hold more than just apathy for us. Joining us might not be so far off after all,' he mused.

Anastyna nodded. 'The Dark Side holds nothing for them now. Albus…before you go. I did see something before that I wanted to share. It concerns…-' At this she paused, obviously troubled by what she was going to say. 'The chosen one.'

Albus looked up sharply, his attention captured. 'Yes?' he inquired; the tinge of excitement visible in his voice.

Anastyna frowned, her eyebrows coming sharply together. 'I am not permitted to give you too much, the future is at stake. Yet…be careful, when you decide who the chosen one is. Much might appear to be to be one thing, yet keep in mind: what appears to be might not necessarily be.'

Albus did not understand her cryptic warning, in fact he would not until at least fifteen years later, but still, he gave his warmest thanks, and bidding her farewell, started his journey down the mountain.

Anastyna sighed, as once again, she was left in solitude in her chamber. Tossing some powder into the fire, she once again gazed upon the images.

'Yes, she murmured. 'The future holds much for him, the Chosen One.'

As the winds blew, and the snow started to fall, the Malfoys and Dumbledore returned to Britain. A month later, James and Lily Potter announced what they had been suspecting for two months now. Lily Potter was pregnant.

With twins.