Headmaster Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Please, speak freely, Mr. Wilson. For the hero of the day, I find I have very little reason to refuse."
Alan offered an awkward chuckle at the high praise. "It's just that I heard Minister Bagnold mention a commendation. I was wondering if that could be handled privately? I'm not fond of the limelight, and attracting too much attention usually brings the wrong kind of trouble."
Dumbledore studied him for a moment. Remembering that Alan was a Slytherin, he quickly grasped the boy's logic. "I understand perfectly. I shall personally request that the Minister keeps your involvement out of the official records and away from the press. Perhaps I can also suggest she convert that public commendation into more... practical, material rewards. How does that sound?"
Alan's face brightened with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Headmaster."
Shortly after, Dumbledore departed for St. Mungo's with Sirius and Peter Pettigrew. Before Sirius vanished into the night, he shouted a final reminder to James to keep a watchful eye on his beloved motorcycle. Alan could only shake his head; it was hard to believe a man so badly injured was still worrying about his bike.
As the night progressed, the Aurors finished the tedious work of clearing the scene and modifying the memories of the local Muggles. Lily's house was restored with a series of Repairing Charms until the scars of the battle vanished. The guests and the Order members eventually bid their farewells. The Longbottoms, having shared the harrowing experience in the cellar, said a warm goodbye to Lily and Alan. Augusta even extended a personal invitation for Alan to visit her estate, which he readily accepted.
Finally, only the Potters and Alan remained in the quiet of the house.
"You've had a long day, Alan. Thank you for everything," James said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll show you to the guest room; you need a proper night's rest."
James had truly come to respect the young wizard. Initially, he had been skeptical of Sirius inviting a Slytherin first-year—a stranger, at that—to such an intimate Christmas dinner. He had only deferred to Lily's good instincts about the boy. But after tonight, any lingering doubt was gone. He was deeply impressed by Alan's courage and his tactical mind.
Alan looked around the now-quiet hall and nodded. "Thank you, James. I appreciate the hospitality."
"Think nothing of it. You're a friend of this house now—a comrade and a benefactor. Stay as long as you like; our door is always open to you," James said with a hearty laugh. Lily, still holding a sleeping Harry, smiled and nodded her agreement.
And so, Alan spent the remainder of his Christmas break in the warmth of the Potter home.
---
Meanwhile, after ensuring Sirius was in the hands of the Healers, Dumbledore did not return to Hogwarts. Instead, he traveled alone to a secluded hill overlooking the Forbidden Forest, waiting in the biting winter air.
He didn't have to wait long. A figure appeared with the sharp crack of Apparition—a Death Eater clad in dark robes. The man slowly pulled away his mask, revealing a pale, haunted face.
"It seems Tom believed the prophecy," Dumbledore said coldly, his blue eyes piercing the darkness. "The assault on the Order tonight was a mere distraction. The infiltrators nearly succeeded in killing Lily and her child. Is this the outcome you envisioned, Severus?"
Snape's indifferent mask began to crumble, his features twisting with a mix of rage and desperation. "The Dark Lord told no one of the infiltrators! Not even me! If I had known he intended to strike there, I would have found a way to stop it!"
"Stop it? And how would you do that? Do you truly possess the courage to defy him to his face?" Dumbledore took a step forward, his voice like iron. "The moment you brought that prophecy to your master, you set a tragedy in motion that no one can easily derail. His target was Lily and her son. You knew that."
Snape hunched his shoulders, looking like a broken man who had gambled his soul and lost. "The Longbottom boy... he fits the description as well. It could be him. I will convince the Dark Lord that the threat lies with the Longbottoms. If I can just turn his focus toward them..."
"Severus!" Dumbledore's voice cracked like a whip. Usually a man of great patience, he could not hide his disgust at the cold-blooded suggestion. A sudden surge of magical power flared around the Headmaster, startling Snape into a stunned silence.
Dumbledore stared him down, his expression glacial. "Do not be a fool. Do you have any idea what your old classmate Evan Rozier did tonight? He broke into the Potters' home and drank Blood Rage Potion—risking permanent insanity—simply for the chance to kill Lily and the child before he was stopped. If not for the quick reflexes of Alan Wilson—the boy who escaped you over the summer—you would be mourning Lily tonight. Tom's intentions have never been more specific."
Dumbledore chose to omit the detail that Alan had saved both Harry and Lily at various points, focusing the pressure solely on Snape's conscience.
"No..." Snape could no longer maintain his composure. He covered his face with his hands and sank to his knees in the snow, his shoulders shaking with silent, bitter sobs. He had followed Voldemort without question, but now that the blade was at the throat of the woman he loved, the foundation of his world had collapsed.
"I knew... I've always known," Snape choked out, his voice thick with anguish. "I could feel it, but I couldn't bring myself to face it."
"The prophecy speaks of a boy born at the end of July, but I doubt Tom would hesitate to eliminate the mother to get to the son," Dumbledore added, twisting the knife.
"I know... the Dark Lord identified the child months ago. He has been obsessed with finding them. I only realized today that the Order wasn't the target—they were just the bait. He was certain they would be there." Snape was a portrait of despair. He had built a wall of lies to protect himself, but tonight, those walls had finally crumbled.