Chapter 2

As Sirius Black arrived at Godric's Hollow, the ominous quiet that hung over the house sent a shiver down his spine. He bolted off his motorbike and rushed inside, his mind swirling with dreadful possibilities.

The sight that greeted him was one of abject horror. There lay James Potter, his lifelong friend, strewn at the bottom of the stairs. The jovial face, usually lit up with laughter, was eerily calm, a stark contrast to the chaos raging within Sirius. His heart twisted with a pain so sharp it nearly took his breath away.

"James," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside the lifeless body. His fingers trembling, he shook James's shoulder, a desperate hope fueling his actions. "James, wake up. This isn't funny."

His pleas echoed through the silent house, unanswered. A guttural sound escaped from his throat, a mournful cry of loss. His friend was gone, his brother in all but blood was no longer of this world, and the reality of it was too bitter, too hard to swallow.

He turned frantically, his mind snapping to Lily. His eyes scanned the room, his heart hammering. But Lily's body was not there. Panic surged through him. "Lily!" he cried out, his voice echoing through the halls. His eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign of her. But the room was empty, save for James's lifeless form.

The fear was crippling. Had they taken Lily? Was she still alive? Guilt and despair mixed in a bitter concoction in his heart. He had promised James. He had promised to keep them safe.

A baby's cry cut through his internal turmoil. Harry. Sirius rushed up the stairs, his mind spinning. He entered the nursery, and there was Harry, alone and crying in his crib, but alive. Sirius's relief was short-lived, replaced quickly by a searing pain at the thought of Harry growing up without his parents. The world is a much crueler place now.

Gently picking Harry up, he held him close, the soft sobs of the baby resonating with his own shattered heart. "I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

As Sirius held Harry close, he couldn't help but notice something peculiar. The child's green eyes, so much like Lily's, held an unusual brightness, an intensity that seemed beyond his tender years. There was an aura around Harry that Sirius couldn't quite put his finger on.

His mind grappled with the uncanny sensation, but the grief and shock were all-consuming. He had lost two of the people closest to him, their absence a gaping void that couldn't be filled. A fierce wave of anger and sorrow washed over him. Why them? Why did it have to be them?

He shook his head, pulling himself from his spiraling thoughts. Now wasn't the time to dwell on the whys. He had Harry to protect, to care for. That was his purpose now.

Suddenly, a gentle pop echoed through the room, and Albus Dumbledore appeared. His eyes held a profound sadness, his usual twinkle noticeably absent.

"Sirius," he greeted, his voice heavy. His gaze landed on Harry, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "He's alive."

"Yes," Sirius confirmed, a lump forming in his throat. "But James and Lily... they're gone, Albus. And Lily... I can't find her body anywhere."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, his face etched with lines of grief and worry. He looked at Harry once more, a strange expression crossing his features. "There is much to discuss, Sirius. For now, know that Harry is safe and he will be looked after."

Sirius stiffened at Dumbledore's words, his heart pounding in his chest. He tightened his grip on Harry protectively, his gaze challenging the Headmaster.

"No," he said, his voice filled with a steely determination. "I will look after Harry. He's my godson, Albus."

Dumbledore met Sirius's defiant gaze with a calm, steady one of his own. "I understand your feelings, Sirius. However, we must consider what's best for Harry."

A bitter laugh escaped Sirius. "What's best for Harry? His parents are dead, Albus. We failed to protect them. And you think we can decide what's best for him now?"

His words hung heavily in the room, a painful reminder of their loss. Dumbledore, however, remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Sirius's chest tightened, his mind wrestling with a whirlpool of emotions. He was angry, grief-stricken, and frightened. But more than anything, he was resolute. Harry was his responsibility now. He would not let anyone, not even Dumbledore, take that away from him.

Looking down at the innocent face of his godson, Sirius whispered softly, "I promise you, Harry. I won't let them take you away. I'll protect you. Just like your parents would have wanted."

Dumbledore regarded Sirius for a moment longer before speaking, his voice carrying a tone of urgency that broke through Sirius's defiance. "Sirius, there's something you should know."

Sirius's heart skipped a beat. The look in Dumbledore's eyes, the seriousness of his tone, something was deeply wrong. "What is it?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath, steeling himself before he delivered the news. "Peter Pettigrew... We know where he is."

For a moment, Sirius could only stare, his mind reeling. Peter. The friend they had all trusted, the friend who had betrayed them all.

"He... he's alive?" Sirius stammered, his mind spinning.

"Yes, and he's on the move. The Order has been tracking him," Dumbledore explained, his gaze steady.

A cold fury washed over Sirius. Betrayal was a wound that never truly healed, and Peter had betrayed them in the worst possible way. He had handed James and Lily over to Voldemort. He was the reason they were gone.

Sirius's grip tightened around Harry, his jaw clenched. "Then we should find him. Make him pay for what he's done."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression grim. "Indeed, we should. But right now, our first priority should be Harry."

Sirius looked down at Harry, the innocent face of his godson who had been thrust into a world of chaos and loss far too early. Dumbledore was right. Harry was their priority. But the hunt for Peter? That was personal, and Sirius would see it through. No matter what it took.

"Sirius," Dumbledore began, his gaze fixed on Harry. "I need you to hand over Harry to Hagrid. He will take him to his aunt and uncle's house."

Sirius' heart thundered in his chest, his eyes flaring with disbelief and anger. "What?" he bellowed, his grip on Harry tightening protectively. "You want to hand Harry over to the Dursleys? They hate magic! They hated Lily and James. I won't let you do that to him!"

Dumbledore's eyes were full of regret, and yet he held Sirius' defiant gaze steadily. "It is necessary, Sirius. Lily's protection will keep him safe there. They are his family."

"Family?" Sirius spat, his anger boiling over. "You call that family? They'll treat him worse than dirt. I am his family, Albus. I am his godfather! I promised Lily and James that I would look after him!"

His voice echoed through the room, the raw emotion in it leaving a heavy silence behind. He was breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of Harry growing up with the Dursleys, treated like an unwanted burden, filled him with a deep-seated rage.

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, looking at Sirius with an unreadable expression. "I understand your sentiments, Sirius," he said softly. "But this is a matter of Harry's safety. It is not a decision I make lightly."

Sirius stared at Dumbledore, his anger morphing into a desperate plea. "Don't do this, Albus. Don't send him there. I can protect him."

Dumbledore's gaze softened, but his resolve didn't waver. "I believe you can, Sirius. But right now, we must do what's best for Harry. That is the safest place for him."

Sirius looked down at Harry, his heart aching. He had lost his best friends, and now, it felt like he was losing his godson too. His defiance, his pleas, seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. And the sense of helplessness that washed over him was almost too much to bear.

"Protection?" Sirius echoed, his confusion replacing his anger. "What protection, Albus? Lily is not here. They've taken her."

Dumbledore looked at him sympathetically, the twinkle in his eyes replaced by a profound sadness. "When Lily died to save Harry," he began, his voice heavy, "she invoked a very ancient magic. A magic that resides in Harry's blood now. It's a powerful love-based protection that Voldemort, or anyone who wishes to harm Harry, cannot penetrate. The only way it can continue to protect Harry is if he stays with his blood relatives. Lily's sister, Petunia, is the only one who can carry on this protection."

Sirius was silent for a moment, the weight of Dumbledore's words sinking in. "So, you're saying Lily... she's still protecting him?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. It was almost too much to take in. Lily, even in death, was still looking out for Harry.

Dumbledore nodded, his gaze filled with a deep sorrow. "Yes, Sirius. Her sacrifice has given Harry a chance at survival. A chance we must not squander."

Sirius looked down at Harry, his heart heavy. His little godson, so small and innocent, had a target on his back, but also a powerful protection that his mother had given him. The thought of Lily's sacrifice for Harry was a poignant reminder of the love she held for her son.

His resolve to fight Dumbledore on this wavered. He was torn between his promise to Lily and James, and the protective magic that Lily had bestowed upon Harry. His instincts screamed to keep Harry with him, to raise him as his own. But if what Dumbledore said was true, then Harry needed to be with Petunia for his own safety.

His eyes stung with unshed tears, his grip on Harry tightening. "I... I need to think," he finally said, his voice hoarse. "This is too much."

Dumbledore nodded, understanding etched on his face. "Take your time, Sirius. This is not an easy decision."

Sirius sighed after a minute of silence. "I don't understand, Albus." Sirius's voice was filled with desperation, his gaze pleading. "How can you be so certain? Lily... her body isn't here. She could be... she might not be dead."

Dumbledore turned back towards him, his face softened by empathy. "Sirius, I know this is difficult to accept. And in any other circumstance, I would give you hope. But we must face reality."

"But without a body... How can you be so sure? It's like she just... vanished," Sirius said, the words tasted bitter on his tongue.

Dumbledore sighed, a sorrowful look clouding his eyes. "Sometimes, Sirius, we must accept things without concrete proof. Magic, especially powerful ancient magic, doesn't always leave a trace in the physical world."

Sirius wanted to argue, wanted to hold onto the slim thread of hope that Dumbledore was wrong. But deep down, he knew the truth. The house was too quiet, too empty. There was an unmistakable finality to the silence, an overwhelming sense of loss that resonated in every corner of the home where laughter and joy once thrived.

"I just... I can't believe they are gone," Sirius whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He clutched Harry closer to his chest, as if trying to shield the infant from the harsh reality of their loss.

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Sirius's shoulder. "I know, Sirius. This loss... It's devastating. But remember, Lily lives on in Harry. And it's our responsibility to keep him safe. For her."

Tears welled up in Sirius's eyes, the gravity of Dumbledore's words weighing heavily on him. He nodded slowly, forcing himself to accept the bitter truth. He had lost James and Lily. But Harry, he was still here, he was alive. And he would do whatever it took to keep him safe, just as Lily would have wanted. Just as she had done with her final act of love.

The mournful silence that had fallen over them was abruptly shattered by a loud, earth-shaking roar that echoed through the quiet neighborhood. Both Sirius and Dumbledore's heads snapped towards the direction of the noise, their eyes widening in surprise.

"What on earth...?" Sirius muttered, rushing over to the broken window, his heart pounding in his chest. Harry stirred in his arms, a tiny whimper escaping his lips.

"Quiet now, little one," he whispered to Harry, his gaze fixed on the spectacle unfolding outside. His eyes widened in shock as he saw what appeared to be a large jet descending in the distance, the noise it was making incongruously loud in the quiet suburban street.

Dumbledore joined him by the window, an unusual expression of surprise marking his features. "This is... unexpected," he confessed, his eyes locked on the jet.

Sirius shot him a puzzled glance. "Unexpected? Albus, do you know what that is?"

"Albus," Sirius began, his voice barely above a whisper, "who are they?"

Dumbledore, his gaze still fixed on the jet, responded in his usual calm and collected manner. "They are... allies, Sirius. But they are not of our world."

This cryptic response elicited a look of confusion and apprehension from Sirius. "Not of our world? You mean..." His voice trailed off as he struggled to comprehend Dumbledore's words.

Dumbledore finally turned to look at Sirius, a grave expression on his face. "Yes, Sirius," he confirmed. "They come from a world parallel to ours. Their reality, like ours, is filled with individuals possessing extraordinary abilities."

"But they're not wizards?" Sirius asked, still struggling to wrap his head around the idea.

Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle, a small smirk playing on his lips. "No, not wizards in the way we understand it. They are referred to as 'mutants' in their world. Individuals born with genetic anomalies that grant them powers, much like our magic."

Sirius looked back at the jet, his heart pounding in his chest. "But why are they here... now...? It doesn't make sense."

Dumbledore's gaze became distant, thoughtful. "Indeed, their arrival is... unexpected. But one thing I've learned over the years, Sirius, is that our universes have a way of aligning when the stakes are highest. We are connected, us and them, through threads of cosmic reality that we are only beginning to understand."

Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked back and forth between Dumbledore and the jet. A world parallel to theirs? 'Mutants'? The revelations were astounding. His mind swirled with a storm of thoughts, questions, and doubt.

"Why have I never heard of this... parallel world or these 'mutants'?" Sirius finally asked, his brows furrowing with suspicion and disbelief.

Dumbledore, however, seemed unperturbed by Sirius's questioning. His gaze remained steadfast, and when he spoke, his voice was filled with a strange mix of melancholy and hope. "It's a closely guarded secret, Sirius. There are layers to our universe that even the wisest among us can barely comprehend."

He finally turned to meet Sirius's gaze, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim light. "The existence of these individuals, these mutants, and their world is information that could incite chaos if it fell into the wrong hands. The few of us who are aware have a responsibility to protect this knowledge."

"But why?" Sirius persisted, his mind reeling. "Why is it a secret? Are we in danger from them?"

Dumbledore shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "No, Sirius, we're not in danger from them. Quite the opposite. Our worlds have always maintained a delicate balance. We've coexisted without intersecting. But times are changing."

Sirius looked back out the window, apprehension churning in his stomach. His mind was already reeling from the night's tragedies, and now this. He tightened his grip on Harry, whispering soft assurances to the child, while bracing himself for whatever was about to come next.

As Sirius looked out at the landing jet, Dumbledore suddenly grew quiet, his face taking on a focused, distant expression. It was as if he was listening to something or someone that Sirius couldn't perceive.

"Albus?" Sirius prompted, turning back towards him. But Dumbledore held up a hand for silence, his brows furrowed in concentration.

It was a moment before Dumbledore spoke, and when he did, it wasn't to Sirius. "Charles, I must say your arrival is... unexpected," he said to the empty room, his tone conveying a mix of surprise and mild reproach.

Sirius's confusion deepened. Who was Dumbledore speaking to?

"You could have warned me, Charles," Dumbledore continued, his voice softer now, his conversation clearly meant for this Charles person. "We're in a bit of a crisis here."

Sirius watched, bemused, as Dumbledore fell silent again. It was as if he was listening to a response. He had seen Dumbledore do many strange things in his time, but talking to an invisible person was a first.

"Of course, Charles," Dumbledore said finally, a hint of warmth creeping into his voice. "Your help is always appreciated. But first, we must attend to young Harry here."

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Sirius, an apologetic smile on his face. "Apologies, Sirius. That was Professor Charles Xavier. He's... an old friend, and it seems, an ally in these troubling times."

Sirius blinked at him, more questions bubbling up. But before he could voice any of them, a gentle knock echoed through the house. Dumbledore sighed, his eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and resolve.

Dumbledore opened the door to reveal a tall man, his features defined and wise. His bald head reflected the faint moonlight outside, and he was seated in an advanced-looking wheelchair. Despite his physical limitation, he emanated a sense of quiet strength and a calm authority that commanded respect.

"Dumbledore," the man greeted, a small smile on his lips. "It's been quite some time."

"Charles," Dumbledore replied, a hint of relief in his voice. "Indeed, it has."

Sirius, still holding Harry, watched as the man - Charles, presumably - wheeled himself into the room. He noticed the glint of curiosity in Charles' eyes as they landed on Harry.

Dumbledore gestured to Sirius "this is Sirius Black" Charles gave a small nod of acknowledgement.

Charles then glanced back toward the doorway where two figures now stood. A tall, broad-shouldered man with red-rimmed sunglasses and a regal, striking woman with long, silvery hair that seemed to shimmer under the light.

"Allow me to introduce my companions," Charles said, gesturing to the two new arrivals. "This is Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops, and Ororo Munroe, more commonly known as Storm."

Both Cyclops and Storm stepped further into the room, their expressions solemn as they each gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Sirius observed them with wide eyes, his mind racing to process all the new information.

"Who is this?" Charles asked, nodding towards the bundle in Sirius's arms.

"This," Dumbledore said, his voice full of emotion, "is Harry Potter."

Understanding seemed to dawn on Charles's face. "I see. I sensed a great disturbance, a monumental flux in the balance of life and death. It led me here."

"Wait," Sirius interjected, bewildered, "you sensed that? All the way from... wherever you came from?"

Charles turned his gaze to Sirius, his eyes glinting with kindness. "Yes. I did. And it's not just any place, Sirius. It's the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, in Westchester, New York."

Sirius turned his gaze back to Charles, suspicion etched into his features. "And what exactly is it that you do?" he asked, his voice strained but steady.

Charles offered him a gentle smile, projecting an air of calm reassurance. "I'm a telepath, Sirius," he explained, meeting the other man's wary gaze steadily. "I can hear the thoughts of others and communicate with them using only my mind."

A baffled expression crossed Sirius' face, his eyebrows furrowing as he grappled with the information. "You're saying you can read my mind?" he asked, a note of incredulity creeping into his voice.

Charles nodded, his smile never wavering. "Yes, if you allow me. But I assure you, Sirius, I respect the privacy of others. I wouldn't intrude without your permission." His voice was firm but kind, an assurance and a promise rolled into one.

Dumbledore, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chimed in. "Charles is a man of his word, Sirius. His abilities, though remarkable, are not used for ill intent."

As Sirius absorbed this, Charles tilted his head slightly, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. "For instance, right now," he said, his tone light, "I can sense you're feeling overwhelmed, perhaps a little wary. And you're wondering if you can trust us." His words hung in the air, a testament to his extraordinary ability.

Looking slightly taken aback, Sirius held Charles' gaze. But then he nodded, the beginnings of understanding and acceptance flickering in his eyes.

"But why are you here, Charles?" Dumbledore asked, his tone serious. "This... disruption you sensed... it's more complicated than you know."

Charles nodded. "I gathered as much, Albus. Which is why I'm here. Not just because of the anomaly, but because I believe we might be able to help each other in these... trying times."

Dumbledore regarded Charles for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. The room was filled with a tense silence as everyone awaited his response. With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore finally nodded. "Very well, Charles. It seems we have a lot to discuss."

Just as Sirius was about to ask another question, Harry stirred in his arms, his small fingers clutching at Sirius's robes. All eyes in the room turned to the infant, their conversation momentarily forgotten. As Harry gazed up at them with innocent, curious eyes, they were all reminded of why they were here - to protect the boy who lived, no matter the cost.

Charles carefully cradled Harry, his fingers delicately brushing the faint scar on the infant's forehead. His eyes shut tightly as he concentrated, the room falling into a tense silence as everyone waited. When Charles's eyes reopened, they were filled not with understanding, but confusion.

"This is... extraordinary," he murmured, his gaze locked onto Harry. "I can sense the change in his genetic structure, but there's a... a barrier, something preventing me from understanding fully what has occurred."

He carefully handed Harry back to Sirius, his gaze thoughtful. "There's an energy that surrounds him, a kind of shield. I can't penetrate it. I don't believe it's harmful, but it's unlike anything I've ever encountered before."

His gaze met Dumbledore's, a silent question in his eyes. "Albus, whatever happened here tonight... it changed him. Changed him in ways I can't fully understand."

There was a collective pause in the room, everyone grappling with the implications of Charles's words. Harry, this tiny infant cradled in Sirius's arms, had somehow become the epicenter of an event that was beyond their comprehension.

In the midst of the tense silence, the room was suddenly suffused with an eerie glow. A whirling vortex of orange sparks erupted in the room, an otherworldly gateway rippling like water against the mundane backdrop of the Potter household. A gasp echoed through the room as the cosmic gateway expanded, its sparks dancing like fiery sprites, illuminating the anxious faces of everyone present.

As the brilliant sparks began to dwindle, a figure stepped forth from the swirling portal. Her presence seemed to command the room, a potent force that sent a wave of awe rippling through those gathered. She was bald, her skin glowing with an ethereal light under the fiery orange illumination of the closing portal.

The woman's gaze swept over the room, calm and unblinking, her robe of indigo and gold billowing gently around her lean figure. An elegant emerald pendant hung from her neck, swaying slightly as she moved further into the room. Despite the turmoil of emotions in the room, a profound sense of tranquility seemed to accompany her.

Her gaze finally settled on the small child in the midst of the gathered crowd, her lips pulling into a small, knowing smile. "Perhaps I can be of assistance," she offered, her voice gentle yet commanding. She moved into the room with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.

She turned her attention to Dumbledore and Charles, bowing slightly. "I am known as the Ancient One. I believe we share... mutual acquaintances."

Dumbledore nodded, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Indeed, we do, Ancient One. To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

The Ancient One's gaze returned to Harry, a soft, knowing smile playing on her lips. "I sensed a shift in the cosmic order, a call for balance. I believe it emanates from this child," she said, gesturing toward Harry.

"Are you saying you can help us understand... what's happened to him?" Sirius asked, his voice shaky as he clutched Harry a bit closer.

The Ancient One nodded, her eyes meeting Sirius's. "I can try," she replied. "But, as you already know, the universe holds mysteries beyond what we can comprehend. It seems, young Harry here, is one of those mysteries."

Her words filled the room, instilling a sense of awe and trepidation. The evening had already been fraught with unexpected turns and revelations, and now, it seemed, they were about to delve even deeper into the unfathomable.

The room was quiet again, each individual lost in their own thoughts as they absorbed the Ancient One's words. It was Sirius, the pain of loss raw and fresh in his heart, who broke the silence.

"This is all... this is all just too much," he said, his voice strained. He got to his feet, Harry cradled protectively against his chest. "My best friends are dead. Dead! And we're here discussing cosmic... cosmic whatever-you-call-it!"

His eyes, burning with grief and confusion, darted between Dumbledore, Charles, and the Ancient One. "And what of you all? With your... your powers, your knowledge? Why didn't you stop this from happening? Why couldn't you save them?"

The room was silent for a long, heavy moment, each person grappling with Sirius's despair. Dumbledore, his eyes sorrowful, was the first to break the silence.

"Sirius," he began softly, "we didn't know. We didn't see this coming, not like this. And for that... I am truly sorry."

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze full of empathy. "And even with our abilities," he added, "there are forces in the universe that we simply cannot control."

The Ancient One remained silent, her expression unreadable as she watched Sirius, his raw grief filling the room. Finally, she spoke, her voice calm and steady. "Your pain, Sirius, is understandable. However, we must focus on what we can do now, rather than what we could not do then."

As Sirius sank back into his chair, still clutching Harry close, the room was filled with a somber understanding. Each of them carried their own share of loss and regret, and each of them had a role to play in the unfolding cosmic drama.

The room fell into a grim silence, broken only by Sirius's choked sobs. Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Sirius's shoulder, a shared understanding of loss passing between them.

"But what about Harry?" Sirius finally managed to ask, his voice hoarse. "What are we going to do?"

The Ancient One moved closer to Sirius, her gaze fixed on the infant. "That is a complex question, Sirius Black," she began, her voice filled with a certain ancient wisdom. "The events of tonight have irrevocably altered the fabric of this child's life... and possibly the universe itself."

As she spoke, her eyes didn't leave Harry. "A deep, primal magic was invoked tonight, triggered by a mother's sacrifice. A magic so profound, it caught the attention of the cosmic entities. Death, Dormammu, and The Living Tribunal," she explained, her voice steady despite the enormity of her words.

"They offered a trade, Lily's life for Harry's. And not just her life but Voldemort's soul as well. They infused the child with a powerful cosmic energy, turning him into a connection, a bridge between all cosmic entities."

Dumbledore, Charles, and Sirius absorbed her words, the gravity of the situation sinking deeper into their hearts. Harry, an innocent child, was now entwined with forces that even the most powerful beings had little control over.

"What about Lily?" His voice was quiet, filled with both trepidation and a desperate need for answers. "What happened to her body?"

Dumbledore's eyes closed momentarily, pain flashing across his face, while Charles merely lowered his gaze. The question was as important to them as it was to Sirius.

The Ancient One, however, held Sirius's gaze, her face an unreadable mask. "I cannot say with certainty what happened to Lily's physical form," she admitted, her tone carrying a rare note of uncertainty.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Sirius's voice trembled with a mix of frustration and grief, his eyes boring into hers. "You're an Ancient One! You're supposed to have answers!"

The Ancient One didn't flinch at his outburst. Instead, she let out a slow sigh. "When the cosmic entities intervened, it was an event beyond my understanding. The power they wield... it's beyond any of our comprehension," she admitted. "I only sensed the monumental shift in the cosmic energies. As to what became of Lily's body... I do not know."

Her words hung heavy in the room, their implication leaving a void that no one could fill. Sirius looked as if he had been physically struck, the color draining from his face. Dumbledore, too, looked visibly shaken, his face a grim reflection of the truth they were now forced to confront.

"The uncertainty is... distressing," The Ancient One added softly, a hint of empathy in her tone. "But we must focus on what we do know. Harry survived tonight because of Lily's sacrifice.

"But what does it mean for Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his voice heavy. "What does this... transformation mean for him?"

The Ancient One paused, her gaze thoughtful. "That, Albus Dumbledore, remains to be seen. For now, he is safe, but the effects of such cosmic power .. we can only wait, observe, and guide him as best as we can."

Sirius was silent for a moment, processing the Ancient One's words. His grip tightened unconsciously around Harry, his protective instincts flaring at the thought of the infant entwined with such powerful cosmic forces.

"How do you know all this?" he finally asked, his eyes meeting the Ancient One's. His voice was low, strained with grief and confusion. "How can you possibly know what happened here tonight?"

The Ancient One regarded Sirius for a moment, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I am the Sorcerer Supreme, the guardian of the Mystic Arts," she began. "While my power is earth-bound, I am aware of the cosmic forces that shape our reality. I sense their movements, their disturbances."

Her gaze fell back on Harry. "Tonight, a significant cosmic disturbance took place. I sensed it, as did Professor Xavier," she said, nodding towards Charles. "However, the magic that unfolded here... it is ancient, deeply rooted in love and sacrifice. It's an echo of the past and a call to the future."

Her voice was soft, almost reverent as she added, "Such powerful magic does not occur unnoticed. It's like a beacon, shining out into the cosmos, calling for those who listen."

She met Sirius's gaze once more, her own eyes reflecting an ancient wisdom. "And I, Sirius, have been listening for a very long time."

Sirius fell silent, his gaze shifting between the Ancient One, Dumbledore, and Charles. A heavy understanding began to settle within him.

Sirius's voice cracked, the words escaping in a hoarse whisper. His pain hung heavy in the air, a tangible entity that left a lingering silence in its wake. The reality of what had transpired seemed to sink in deeper, the loss of James and Lily an open wound that was far from healing.

"Why didn't you? If you knew, why didn't you intervene?" Sirius's voice was raw with pain, accusation simmering in his eyes as he glared at the Ancient One. "Why did we have to fight Voldemort alone? James... Lily... they're dead because we were alone."

The Ancient One's expression softened, her ancient eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed to span eons. "I understand your pain, Sirius Black. I truly do," she began, her voice brimming with empathy. "But our roles in this vast cosmic tapestry are not always as straightforward as we would like."

Her gaze turned distant, as if she was looking beyond the walls of the room, beyond time itself. "There are rules, boundaries that even I must adhere to. Interference in the course of events is not always permitted... or wise. Some battles must be fought, some paths must be walked, no matter how painful they may be."

The Ancient One's eyes returned to Sirius, her gaze sympathetic yet firm. "James and Lily's sacrifice was not in vain, Sirius. Their love, their determination has paved the way for something greater. It's a tragic, painful path, but one that has potentially saved countless lives."

The words hung heavy in the room, a bitter truth that was hard to swallow. Sirius looked down at Harry, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions. Love. Fear. Grief. Determination. He had lost his best friends, but he still had Harry. And he would do whatever it took to protect him, to honor Lily and James's sacrifice.

Sirius's silence filled the room, his body stiff as he clutched Harry closer to his chest. His breath hitched, his mind flooding with memories of another face, another friend, another betrayal.

"Peter," he spat out the name like it was poison. His eyes blazed with a fury that seemed to light up the dim room. "Peter did this. He betrayed them. Betrayed us."

The grief and confusion in his eyes were slowly replaced by a chilling resolve. He rose from his seat, placing Harry gently back into the crib. His gaze never left the infant, the silent promise in his eyes clear as day.

"I'm going to find him," he said, his voice shaking with raw emotion. "I'm going to find that traitor, and I'm going to make him pay."

Dumbledore rose as well, placing a restraining hand on Sirius's arm. "Sirius," he began, his voice low but firm. "I understand your anger. Your desire for revenge. But this... this is not the way."

Sirius turned sharply, his gaze searing into Dumbledore. "Not the way?" he echoed, his voice rising in incredulity. "He betrayed James and Lily, Albus! He sold them out to Voldemort!"

The Ancient One watched the exchange silently, her expression unreadable. Charles, on the other hand, looked pained, his empathic abilities making him acutely aware of the storm of emotions raging within Sirius.

"Vengeance will not bring them back, Sirius," Dumbledore continued, his voice soft yet unyielding. "And it certainly won't help Harry. What he needs right now is love, protection. Not more violence."

"But he needs to pay!" Sirius insisted, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"And he will, Sirius," Dumbledore assured, his gaze stern. "Justice will be served. But it must be served rightly. Do not let your grief and anger cloud your judgment. That's not what James and Lily would have wanted."

Sirius fell silent, the storm within him raging. Dumbledore's words were a bitter pill to swallow, a reminder of the heavy responsibility he now carried.

Just as the tense silence stretched on, the sound of footsteps filled the room, catching everyone's attention. The door creaked open to reveal a woman with fiery red hair and an intense gaze, her green eyes scanning the room.

Jean Grey, one of Charles's most trusted X-Men and a powerful telepath herself, walked in with a report that interrupted the room's tension. "Charles, I've scanned the area," she announced, her voice reflecting her concern. "I can't find any remnants of this..."

"Momma," Harry cooed, his innocent green eyes wide and full of curiosity.

The room stilled, the echo of the word hanging in the air like a painful reminder of the loss they'd all suffered. Sirius's breath hitched, and he quickly blinked away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Jean seemed taken aback for a moment, her eyes softening as she looked at the child. Then, with a gentle smile, she walked over to the crib, bending down to meet Harry's gaze.

"Hello there, little one," Jean cooed, her eyes meeting Harry's. Even though he was too young to understand, Harry giggled and reached out a chubby hand towards her hair.

A light chuckle left Jean's lips as she glanced over at Scott standing at the periphery of the room. With a playful wink, she said, "Scott, what do you think about having a little one around the X-Mansion?"

Scott's eyes widened behind his ruby-quartz glasses, and he shook his head vehemently, the barest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. "Oh no, Jean. Absolutely not. We have enough trouble managing the students we already have."

Laughter bubbled up in the room, a momentary relief to the heavy tension that had blanketed them moments ago. Sirius watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"I'm not your momma, little one," she said softly, her fingers gently brushing against Harry's. "But don't worry. You're surrounded by people who care about you very much."

Breaking the poignant moment, Charles turned his gaze to Jean, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and curiosity. "Jean, could you try and read Harry?" he asked. "Carefully, of course. We need to know if he's alright, and if anything else... unusual... has occurred."

Jean gave Charles a slight nod, understanding the importance of his request. Her gaze shifted back to Harry, her eyes soft yet focused. "Of course, Charles," she agreed.

The room fell into a hushed silence, the tension palpable as Jean extended a hand towards Harry. Her eyes fluttered closed, her expression turning concentrated as she reached out with her mind to gently touch upon Harry's.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Jean's eyes snapped open, her expression unreadable as she slowly withdrew her hand. She glanced back at Charles, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and wonder.

"I... I don't understand," she murmured, her gaze falling back onto Harry. "His mind... it's unlike anything I've ever seen."

Charles turned back to Jean. "Is there anything else you can perceive, Jean?" he asked, his voice echoing the curiosity they all felt. "Any hint of... this cosmic intervention The Ancient One mentioned?"

Jean frowned, her gaze returning to Harry as she carefully probed the edges of the barrier she had previously encountered. Her brows furrowed, the lines on her forehead deepening as she concentrated.

Then her eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips. "There's... there's something more," she stammered, her green eyes wide with astonishment. "I can't quite grasp it. It's... it's vast. Incredibly vast."

"What do you mean, Jean?" Charles prodded gently, his curiosity piqued.

She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to articulate the sensations that flooded her mind. "It's like... Like he's linked to something much larger than us. Something... cosmic. I can't see it clearly, it's far too vast, too... profound. But it's there, beneath the surface. Like an ocean beneath a calm sea."

The Ancient One and Charles exchanged a look. It was as if her words had confirmed their wildest theories. There was more to this child than met the eye. He was no longer just Harry Potter, the son of Lily and James. He was a nexus, a point of convergence for forces far beyond their comprehension.

"He's special," Jean concluded, her gaze never leaving the child. "He's incredibly special."

Sirius was the first to break the silence, his voice echoing his concern and confusion. "What are we going to do?" he demanded, his gaze fixed on Dumbledore. "We can't send him to his aunt. They don't understand, they... they hate…!"

Charles gave Sirius a thoughtful look, sensing the depth of the man's concern. "They hate the unnatural" he finished gently for Sirius, a sense of empathy in his voice.

A silence fell over the room as everyone turned to look at Dumbledore, waiting for his response. The old wizard's gaze shifted from Sirius to Harry, his eyes revealing a deep well of sadness and understanding. He knew the life that awaited Harry amongst the Dursleys wouldn't be a kind one.

Slowly, Dumbledore turned towards Charles. His gaze was searching, hopeful. "Charles," he began, his voice steady despite the weight of his words, "Do you think...?"

Before he could finish, Charles smiled, a small, warm smile that held a world of understanding. "Yes, Albus," he answered, his gaze falling on Harry. "Our school is always open to those in need. We will keep him safe and guide him. That I can promise you."

As the room seemed to collectively exhale in relief, the silence was once again shattered by The Ancient One's soft voice.

"He will need training," she stated, her eyes fixed on Harry. "The power inside him, it's unlike anything we've encountered before. If left uncontrolled, it could pose a danger not only to him but to all of us."

Her words struck a chord with everyone present, the severity of their situation slowly sinking in. Harry was not just a magical child anymore; he was a being of cosmic significance, imbued with a power so vast and so mysterious that it was hard to fathom.

"You are correct, Ancient One," Dumbledore responded solemnly. "And he will have the best of both worlds to guide him. The magical community under my guidance, and the world of gifted individuals under Charles'. Together, we can provide him with the knowledge and skills he will need to control and channel his power."

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze meeting The Ancient One's. "I've mentored many young individuals, each with their unique abilities and challenges. With our combined knowledge and resources, I believe we can help Harry understand his place in this universe."

The Ancient One seemed satisfied with this answer, a small, cryptic smile gracing her lips. "Very well," she murmured, her gaze once again falling on Harry. "A new era begins, then. A convergence of worlds and powers, all centered around this child."

Dumbledore, who had been watching the proceedings with a calculating look in his eyes, nodded thoughtfully.

A soft chuckle then slipped past Ororo lips, drawing the attention of those present. "Scott," she started, her tone playful, yet layered with a hint of seriousness. "Are you implying you wouldn't make a wonderful father?"

Scott, taken aback by the comment, fumbled for a response. His gaze darted to Jean, who was already suppressing a grin, and then to Ororo, whose eyes twinkled with unspoken challenge.

"I...I didn't say that," he stammered, his cheeks flushing under the attention. "I just meant...I mean, the mansion...the students...and...uh…"

His rambling was cut short by Ororo's gentle laughter. The room, once filled with a heavy somberness, now echoed with a lively warmth that even reached Sirius's grief-stricken heart. It was a heartening reminder that despite the overwhelming darkness, moments of light and hope could still find a way through.

With the mood noticeably lighter, Ororo moved closer to Jean and Harry. She reached out a gentle hand to stroke the baby's cheek, her touch as soft as a summer breeze. Harry giggled at her touch, reaching out to grab her finger.

A warm smile spread across Ororo's face. "Indeed, Scott," she said, her gaze softening as she looked at the innocent child in Jean's arms. "We're all going to have our hands full, aren't we?"

Sirius was silent, his mind swirling with the weight of what he had just learned. His heart ached as he looked at Harry, so small and innocent in Jean's arms, oblivious to the extraordinary path that had been set out before him. Sirius swallowed hard, finding his voice amidst the quiet that had fallen over the room.

"Can... can I still see him?" Sirius asked, his voice barely a whisper. His gaze never left Harry, his Godson, who now seemed so far from his reach. The vulnerability in his voice was unmistakable, his words laden with a silent plea.

The room was silent as they all turned to look at him, their own emotions reflected in Sirius's pained expression. Dumbledore was the first to break the silence, his voice gentle and understanding.

"Of course, Sirius," he reassured him. "Harry is your godson, and nothing that has happened here changes that. You are his family."

Sirius nodded, relief washing over him, even if it was only a small comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. The loss of his best friends was still a fresh wound in his heart, and the thought of losing Harry too was unbearable.

"I want to be there for him," Sirius said, his voice filled with determination. "He's all I have left of Lily and James. I want...I need to be part of his life."

A heavy silence filled the room, punctuated only by the soft sound of Harry's contented babbling. Sirius felt the gaze of everyone present on him, their eyes filled with empathy and understanding. It was The Ancient One, however, who broke the silence. Her voice was serene, yet it carried a weight that commanded attention.

"Your role is far from over, Sirius," she began, her gaze meeting his. The gentleness in her ancient eyes offered him a degree of comfort, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his grief, in his fears. "We are all interconnected in this. We all now have a part to play in Harry's life."

Her words hung in the air, a profound truth that resonated within each of them. Their paths, their destinies, were now intertwined with that of the small child in their midst, a testament to the extraordinary events of the night.

Charles nodded at The Ancient One's words, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Indeed, Harry is our responsibility now," he affirmed. "We have a duty to guide him, to help him navigate the immense potential that lies within him."

Sirius looked at them all, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and resolve. The thought of sharing the burden of Harry's destiny, of not being alone in this, provided some consolation.

Everyone looked to Harry, innocent and blissfully unaware of the colossal responsibility and destiny placed upon his tiny shoulders, they all felt a renewed sense of determination. Harry Potter was not alone. He had a family ready to protect him, guide him, and prepare him for whatever the universe had in store.