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Chapter Text

Harry Potter wasn't sure when it started happening - or if it had just happened one day.

All he knew was that, one night, after turning nine, he'd gone to sleep in his cupboard like normal - and woken up to something decidedly not normal.

Harry had known all sorts of abnormal things to happen around him, or to him - but even for him, this one was absurd. It defied all logic and reason. He couldn't think of any explanation for it. And his relatives hadn't given him any that sounded convincing, either. And after they'd failed at that, his aunt started saying to him what they were all saying to everyone else...

"Stop being ridiculous - you've ALWAYS been a girl! A wretched little girl who's been a terribly late bloomer! "

Harry still didn't believe that for a second - no more than anything else they'd tried to come up with in those first few days - but, again, it wasn't as if he had any ideas himself about how this could have happened. To his knowledge, though, it really shouldn't be possible that you could go to bed one night a boy, and wake up the next morning a girl. It just wasn't something that happened...was it?

At any rate, these past few months had been strange in other ways, as well (beyond the fact that he'd had to start getting used to this new body compared to his old one, and how mortifying and uncomfortable that all was, even now). For one thing, ever since his relatives had seemed to realize this wasn't going to "go away" or that he wasn't going to just "change back again", they'd told him he was being moved out of the cupboard and into Dudley's second bedroom instead (which had made Dudley throw tantrums for weeks). For another, his aunt had taken him out shopping for new clothes for the first time in his entire life. True, it was all "girl's clothes", and no amount of arguing or pleading on Harry's behalf had gotten her to change her mind (all it had gotten him was looks and whispers from the other shoppers, and the clerk too), but after he'd resigned himself to it...well, he thought he'd gotten used to the new clothes by now.

In fact, now that Harry was well beyond the embarrassment at this point, he had to admit it was nice to have brand new clothes. And he also had to admit they were rather nice clothes, themselves; they were comfortable and soft, in a way Dudley's ratty old hand-me-downs had never been, with their hole and patches and tears, rough and rugged from so much use. it was also true that his aunt had flat-out refused to let him ever wear pants or shorts again, and had only gotten him skirts and dresses, but even Dudley's new brand of insults and jeers couldn't take way from the fact that, to Harry, they were still his. They were nice, and they were his! He had new clothes, clothes all his own! Clothes that felt and even smelled nice!

And even though this was all quite strange and impossible, Harry still felt the desire to treasure these new belongings as much as he could.

Another strange thing was that his aunt and uncle seemed to be actually intervening to stop and scold Dudley from beating on him. At school now, the teachers seemed quick to do the same, oddly enough...

And the first time they'd caught up to Harry out on the streets for it, it had led to a neighbor coming out and yelling them off - asking Harry if "she" was alright!

Yes, this was all weird and confusing, but it seemed to have come with some advantages Harry couldn't help but start to appreciate.

Another was that one or two girls at school had approached him and asked to be friends. Well, sort of: it was more that they had started talking to him and sitting near him, and he had started talking back. And during these times, Dudley and the boys hadn't come over to beat on or scare them off, either...

Of course, there were also some terrible downsides to this new - predicament. This change in Harry. Besides all the obvious things, like having to deal with these physical differences all the time now (including the fact that his dark, messy hair had somehow grown past his shoulders overnight, and had become rather sleek and straight), there was the fact that his Aunt Petunia had suddenly become a hundred times worse to him than she'd ever been before. Constant yelling, cutting remarks, pointed criticisms. And while his aunt and uncle seemed strangely willing to stop Dudley from hurting Harry now, his aunt at least didn't seem to apply the same new rules to herself; Harry had received more slaps and ear-pulls from her in recent weeks than he could remember in his whole life.

Another odd thing (not necessarily bad or good) was that sometimes, in these incidents, Uncle Vernon would look at Petunia hesitantly, and stammer a suggestion that maybe she should take it easier on Harry.

Well, they didn't call Harry "Harry" anymore - they'd taken to calling him "Eliza" now. And they'd also somehow convinced everyone else in the world to start doing the same, from neighbors to teachers, to even the other girls in Harry's class.

That was also something Harry had had to get used to...resign himself to, really.

He'd given up fighting it weeks ago, by now.

He'd also given up wondering if he'd ever change back, or why this had happened in the first place.

Harry - Elizabeth - had accepted his..."her" newest lot in life.

Now, he was just trying to make the best of it, honestly.

Though, in his own mind's refuge, he still insisted on calling himself "Harry" and thinking of himself as "himself" - not "herself". Maybe it was just to spite his relatives, or maybe a tiny part of him wanted to keep a piece of who he'd always been...to not let it go, to not let himself be changed...to not let himself forget.

There were two more, big changes lately that Harry had taken notice of - one that had been really great, and another terribly...terrible.

The good change was that, after a night of burning eyes, Harry had woken up and found his vision an utter mess, even with his glasses on. When he'd taken them off, he'd realized he could see well without them now! Somehow, his eyes had fixed themselves! His aunt had been beside herself with seething fury when he'd tried to stammer out the impossible occurrence to her - but then she'd swallowed hard, tore away his glasses and thrown them in the garbage bin, saying that at least they wouldn't have to see them anymore.

And as for the terrible change...

It was the sickness. The shakes and fevers. The sweating and the heat. Harry wasn't sure why, but ever since this had happened, he'd started getting these periods of...of feeling like he was burning up inside. The Dursleys had complained every time about taking him to the doctors - and lately they'd been talking about just not taking him, since while the doctors had no explanation for it, they also had told them it didn't seem "dangerous" or anything.

At least Harry could lay and suffer in his new bedroom instead of down in the cramped, dark cupboard. He'd often go and just sit at the desk by the window during these periods of fever, of illness. Sometimes he'd even stick his head out the window itself (though this sometimes resulted in his aunt or uncle spotting him and shouting at him to cut it out).

The last, greatest change came on the day of his cousin Dudley's tenth birthday. One that proved to be both the most wonderful thing to ever happen to Harry...and the most terrible.

They'd gone to visit the zoo. Well, his relatives, Dudley and his friends had all gone to the zoo (and been forced to take Harry with them).

But Harry wasn't going to complain.

Except when Dudley and Piers kept elbowing him, or yanking on his long hair now and making him cry out with pain. Pain and anger. His Aunt Petunia ignored it - and so did Uncle Vernon, for once, lately. He was too focused on driving, only shouting back warnings at Harry to shut up and stop "making a nuisance of herself".

Harry had opened his mouth and hotly tried to explain, but Vernon had just told him to be quiet again - backed up by Aunt Petunia.

So Harry had had to keep suffering.

When they got out of the car, he was relieved to be able to get away from the- other boys.

Even more relieving was the fact that the Dursleys didn't seem to care much when Harry wandered off through the zoo on his own. He found his way to the reptile house at some point - found himself looking at all sorts of glass cases and exhibits for snakes of all sizes and colors.

Harry walked around them all, looking at them with curiosity before catching himself; he wouldn't like to be stared at either. Gawked at...

He shook his head and turned away, apologizing to them aloud as he did - and then stopped as he saw a large snake in a big enclosure lift its head and look directly at him.

"Er, sorry - didn't mean to disturb your sleep," Harry offered quietly. He felt a little foolish, talking to a snake now directly like it could understand him, but-

"No problem..."

Harry blinked at the great snake. He looked around, then back at the snake, rubbing his eyes (still feeling strange at the absence of his glasses getting in the way). He stepped closer to the glass, peering at the snake's face. "Sorry, but did you just talk...?"

The snake gazed at him, then it blinked. And then it nodded its head slowly. "I talked...and you understood me. You're the first of your kind to do that..."

"Really? I am?" Harry said, still staring. "Erm - I mean - sorry. What's your name? I'm...Harry."

The snake flickered its tongue out at him. "My name's Selira, amigo. Nice to meet you...a friendly human, speaker of Parsel."

"Parsel...?" Harry said, confused.

"The language of my kind, yes..."

"Oh." Harry glanced around, then back at - Selira again. "I used to be in a small space, like those snakes," he went on, gesturing to the small glass habitats lining the walls. "But I just got moved to a bigger one a few months back - like yours. But..."

"A cage is still a cage."

"Yeah," Harry agreed softly. "I'm sorry you have to be stuck like this here - all these people - it's got to be pretty annoying. Where did you come from originally? I mean, before humans came and picked you up?"

Selira shook- their? head (it felt rude to keep thinking of the snake as an "it" now that he knew it- they had a name and all). Then they raised their tail and pointed off to a sign near the glass.

Harry looked over at it, then back at Selira. "Oh...I get it." Now he felt really sorry for them. Sorry, and angry. Angry at the zookeepers. He couldn't imagine being born in his cupboard, and never being let out of it at all! He wished he could do something to help them - Selira - this Boa Constrictor. This person, who could clearly talk and everything! He shook his head and tried taking a deep breath to get rid of this anger. It was burning in him now, like it had back in the car...at stupid Dudley, and stupid Piers...

"It is what it is, Harry," said Selira quietly. "I'd like to get out one day and see my home land, Brazil, but this glass is just too-"

"Hey, freaky girl, what're you doing with that snake!" Dudley's voice suddenly called out, with heavy footsteps. "Move over and let me see!"

Before Harry knew what was happening, Dudley had just shoved him aside roughly, causing him to fall over onto the floor with a grunt of pain. Harry glared up at Dudley, pressing a hand to his side. "What's there for you to see, anyways? it's not like you'd understand it!" he called out.

"Shut up," Dudley replied, raising a hand to bang on the glass. "And you - do something again! C'mon, get up already, I saw you before with the girl - wake up again!"

"Stop it!" Harry snapped out, getting to his feet again. "They get enough of this every day - they don't need you getting in their face acting like a buffoon who belongs in a cage of his own."

Dudley turned on him, glowering and raising a fist. "I've had enough of you, you little sissy freak! Mum and dad have been acting weird about you lately, but you know what, Eliza? Maybe if someone just gave you a good thrashing again, they'd remember how to really treat you!"

"Oh, sure, Dudley - just punch a girl in the face in the middle of a public zoo," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He didn't like playing into this great delusion everyone else seemed to be having now, but if it'd get him out of a stupid Dudley beating...and it was true, to boot. "I guess if you're that eager to get into trouble, go ahead!"

Dudley looked around them, then he turned back to Harry with a smirk. "I don't see anyone else around - do you? Nobody'll notice if I just give you a quick one. It's what you deserve, for all this weirdness and-"

Harry took a step back, realizing Dudley was seriously going to do this - he didn't care anymore. He wanted to make Harry hurt, to pay, after nearly a year now of not being able to do it anymore. So Harry did the smartest thing he could and turned and bolted, as he was so good at in life.

Unfortunately, for once, Dudley was expecting this; a big, thick hand grabbed Harry's shoulder and yanked him back. Then Dudley was turning and shoving Harry against the glass, raising a fist and cocking it back-!

Harry struggled and winced at the expected blow, crying out, "Get off me! GET OFF-!"

Dudley's fist shot forward-

And flew past Harry's head.

Harry fell backward in the same moment, bending his back awkwardly.

Dudley's momentum caused him to slip forward and slump down...over the empty viewing window of Selira's habitat?

Harry righted himself and turned, staring in amazement and shock. The glass - it was gone! Just gone! But how? How could that even be-

Dudley lifted himself up as a distinct hissing was heard, and found himself facing Selira themself. His eyes widened with terror. He let out a blubbering noise as his mouth fell open.

Selira turned their head to look at Harry. Then- "Thanks, amigo! Brazil, here I come..." Then they were slithering up over Dudley and down his backside, flopping down onto the floor and heading for the exit to the reptile house!

Harry watched them go, finding himself grinning, even if he didn't really understand how it'd happened.

His grin slipped away as his aunt and uncle came racing into the reptile house, however, and Dudley began pointing and yelling about Harry.

Blaming it all on "her".

Harry felt a rush of indignation and anger, and tried to argue - but his aunt Petunia's hand came flying out, slapping him across the face harshly.

"That is ENOUGH out of you! I've HAD IT with you! We are going home, and then YOU-" His aunt stopped, shaking and white with her own rage. Then she turned away, leaving the rest unsaid.

As soon as they were home, his aunt grabbed Harry by his long hair, dragged him into the house, and tossed him into the cupboard under the stairs!

Harry heard the lock slide into place, as he sat there shaking. Fuming.

He hadn't done anything! He had done nothing to deserve being back in here again - and the way his aunt had seized his hair like that...

Harry winced and sat back, trying not to cry as his eyes stung.

It had been painful in a way none of her slaps or smacks had ever been.

It still hurt.

Harry curled up on his tiny bed and just lay down with a thump.

So he was back in his tiny cage again, was he?

He hoped Selira at least...managed to find their freedom out there.

That would make one of them, he thought bitterly. Angrily.

An anger and bitterness that just kept mounting, whirling furiously in his head as the hours went on, as night came. As sleep came for Harry...

Harry woke up to screaming voices.

At first, he'd thought it was just the after-echo of his usual, strange dreams. A green light, an evil laughing voice, and a high voice screaming...

But - no!

There was screaming elsewhere in the house!

Harry sat upright, slamming himself up against the cupboard door- and remembering it was locked.

"HELLO?" he yelled out. "AUNT PETUNIA? UNCLE VERNON? DUDLEY?! WHAT'S GOING ON!"

He tried to hit at the door, as those screaming, familiar voices continued. As he became aware of a strange...crackling, roaring noise. As he realized it was hot in here - he was sweating-

Then the obvious came to him: a fire. Was the house on fire?!

But if it were on fire, why weren't his relatives just out of the house - leaving him to it alone?

Something had to be seriously wrong.

Harry sat back on his bed and pulled in his legs, then kicked at the cupboard door with all his might.

To his surprise, it burst open, swinging out and hitting the wall next to it with a bang.

Harry blinked now - out at a world of haze - smoke, drifting past him down the hallway, and now filling up his cupboard!

He stumbled out into the hallway, looking left and right. The kitchen was on fire - the living room was on fire. The stairs were on fire...

Harry could still hear those voices...

He ran down the hall and found the door to his aunt and uncle's bedroom. It was also awash with orange, swirling flames! Harry hesitated, before screwing up his face and reaching swiftly for the doorknob. To his surprise and confusion, he found it...cool to the touch. He didn't question it further, however, and gave the knob a twist!

At least, he'd meant to - but it didn't budge!

"No! Come on! Open!" Harry shouted, panicking, redoubling his efforts. "Just open, you-!"

Suddenly, he stumbled backwards as the door swung open, knocking him into the wall.

He stared through it at the flood of thick, black smoke rushing out at him - and then saw his aunt and uncle come rushing out as well.

"Y-you- AGH- TRIED TO KILL US IN OUR SLEEP, EH?!" Vernon was roaring, coughing. Choking. As he came right for Harry and grabbed his throat, lifting him up against the wall! "I KNEW IT WOULD COME TO THIS, I KNEW WE SHOULD HAVE-"

"V-Vernon, stop! Let the- girl go!" Petunia choked out, reaching for his arm with a look of strange fear and panic on her face. "Dudders - we need to get our Dudders...and get out of here!"

Vernon immediately let Harry drop to the floor, then him and Aunt Petunia both turned and ran down the hall. Petunia lingered near the front door, then raced out of it. Vernon, on the other hand, brought up his shirt to cover his mouth before barreling up the stairs with thundering steps.

Harry lay there on the floor, gasping and choking, holding a hand to his throat.

A part of him wasn't even surprised they'd both decided to get out and get Dudley over even caring about him - but another part of him...a tiny part of him he'd thought was long extinguished...

Harry blinked quickly and got back up again. He stared out the front door, then looked at the stairs.

He could hear Vernon's voice, hear Dudley's screams still.

He heard pounding noises.

It didn't sound like his uncle was having much luck with getting Dudley out...but surely he would. If his uncle was anything, it was a human bulldozer, after all.

Harry ran down the hallway, stopping at the front door. Again, he looked out, then back and up the stairs.

A small voice in his head spoke up, then, saying: what if they can't get out? What if Dudley doesn't...?

Harry hated his relatives - and he knew they hated him - but he wouldn't want them to...to die! Not like this, not-

Harry warred with himself for a minute more, the smoke and fire seeming to flow around him, not touching him...

Then he turned back and ran up the stairs. Again, it strangely seemed as if the fire was avoiding him.

He made it up to the second floor landing, and stopped in horror at the sight that greeted him.

His uncle was slumped on the floor, gasping, futilely reaching a hand out for the door to Dudley's room.

The entire hallway up here was on fire - including Dudley's door.

And Harry couldn't hear Dudley in there anymore, either.

He ran forward and threw himself at the door, seizing the knob and twisting it - it opened immediately (leading him to briefly wonder what Vernon had been having trouble with). He walked inside, the smoke and flames parting to reveal Dudley. Dudley, on his bed, unconscious. His arm was raised, his hand touching the window sill...like he'd tried to get out that way, but couldn't for some reason.

Harry hurried forward and grabbed his cousin, grunting and coughing as he hauled him off the bed. He pulled him across the floor, surprising himself with how smoothly it went - how his cousin seemed to weigh a lot less than usual. Harry was able to drag the boy out into the hall, and then down the stairs (grabbing him under his arms now to make sure his head didn't bash on anything). When they reached the bottom, Harry heard a cry and was shoved aside by his Aunt Petunia.

He watched her blubber and coo over Dudley, doing her best to drag him out the front door - not sparing a look at Harry at all.

Harry stood there, leaned against the wall. He felt a tickling sensation, and he straightened up and turned to see the wall was fully engulfed in flames. But...he hadn't felt a thing?

He shook his head again, putting a hand over his mouth as a coughing fit ran through him.

He heard footsteps, and was surprised (hopeful) to see his aunt come stumbling inside again. Looking at him. Her face worried, fearful- "Where's Vernon?! Where is he, girl!"

Harry stared back at her from behind his hand. He felt cold, suddenly, even in this raging house-fire...

But-

He turned and pointed up the stairs. "Uncle Vernon's still up there. He- passed out, I think."

"And you didn't think to help him?!" Aunt Petunia shrieked - then sputtered.

"I was too busy getting Dudders out of there!" Harry shouted, clenching his fist in disbelief and outrage. "You're welcome for that, by the way, Aunt Petunia!"

"Don't you talk back to me, girl!" she snapped, before racing up the stairs on her own.

Harry looked after her, glaring at her backside-

The flames roared higher, suddenly, burning air swirled - and Aunt Petunia was sent flying back down the stairs again. She landed in front of Harry with a thud and a gasp of pain.

"Look, Aunt Petunia, why don't you just- go outside with Dudley? I'll- I'll get uncle," Harry said. "It'll be safer for you."

Aunt Petunia righted herself, looking up at him sharply. She didn't look happy, or warm, or surprised or amazed. She just looked suspicious.

Harry looked back down at her...

Then he just turned and went back upstairs again.

He thought maybe he heard her call after him - or maybe that was just wishful thinking. His imagination...

Anyway, Harry made it up to the top and to Vernon's side quick enough. He took hold of his uncle's limp arm and made to drag him back down the hall. It was only a few feet...just a few...

But Vernon felt every bit as heavy as he was - unlike Dudley!

It was slow, inch by inch, it was-

They reached the stairs-

And the stairs broke under Harry's foot.

He tripped, he twisted, and he fell all the way down them. He rolled and landed in a heap on the floor, his head against the wall.

Harry shook his head and got up again - and immediately cried out and fell as his ankle burst with pain.

No! he exclaimed. Come on, get up, get-

He suddenly felt arms seizing him, pulling at him!

Harry twisted and fought-

"Stop it, you foolish girl, stop it this instant!" the voice came over his head. Hissing and familiar. Choked and broken.

It was his aunt...

Harry kept fighting her, protesting - he could still walk, he could still get in there and save-!

Vernon was never kind to him (except that weirdness lately about not hitting him), but he was family, he was- all Harry even had, since his parents...

He couldn't stand to lose any more, no matter who they were!

Harry just...

Firemen rushed in through the front door, disappearing into smoke and flames. Others were hosing the house with water streams.

Harry's aunt dropped him in the grass and backed away, her hands going to her mouth.

Harry looked around and saw Dudley in an ambulance.

He looked back at the house in time to see a large section of the upper floor on the right...collapse.

Flames rushed out everywhere, glass shattered - wood splintered.

His aunt screamed.

Harry shut his eyes tight, trying to ignore it all. Trying to deny it all.

Hoping it was just...

Another nightmare.

Chapter Text

Harry wasn't sure about much of what happened over the next few hours.

Mrs. Figg, his neighbor, had offered to house Harry while Petunia went to the hospital with Dudley...and Uncle Vernon (Petunia had refused to let Harry come).

Harry supposed he was glad Mrs. Figg was willing to let him stay with her for the night - but he still thought it was terrible to be made to sit around anxiously...nervously waiting for news...

Any news.

Or maybe his aunt wasn't even going to come back for him.

But...she had come back - she had come to pull him from the house. After he'd failed to get his uncle out of there...

Mrs. Figg let Harry watch TV most of the night, and made him a full, nice dinner to eat too (and even though it was so late at night, Harry couldn't refuse it).

Soon, though, Harry fell asleep.

When he woke the next morning, it was to a bunch of cats around him. He smiled, gave them a few pets before getting up finally.

Because he'd just remembered that what happened wasn't a bad dream.

But if he was still here...was his aunt- had she really just-

"Oh, you're awake - good," Mrs. Figg's voice came, as she shuffled into the sitting room. "Why don't you come to the kitchen and have some breakfast, dear?" she spoke, in a gentle tone. Her eyes shined at him with warmth, with kindness...with sympathy. Or was that pity?

"Err - thank you - but- Mrs. Figg- my aunt..." Harry tried to say. To ask.

She gave him a nod. "I've already called your aunt, dear..."

"And? What did she- say?" Harry pressed, eyeing her closely.

Mrs. Figg's face fell. She looked down, taking in a breath. A shaking, old breath. "Eliza, dear, your- your uncle...well, he didn't make it. And your cousin...it was late last night. He was in such a precarious condition, and he...unfortunately, they lost him. I'm so sorry..."

Harry sat there, staring at her in shock. Unable to believe her words.

He felt sick. He felt cold. He felt - numb. Empty.

He'd hated them, and they'd hated him - but...he'd never wanted them to die! And - they were all he'd had...

But now - now-

Suddenly he knew: his aunt wasn't coming back for him. Was she? Not now. Not...now that he'd failed to save...to help...her husband and son...

And then the new thought came to him. A terrible one...

Did my parents die because of me, too? Was that car crash my fault as well...?

He startled as he felt a warm hand on his backside. Mrs. Figg was suddenly there beside him, sitting on the sofa with him.

"Eliza...dearie..."

"My aunt's not coming back for me, is she?" Harry said aloud, tight and choked. "She's always hated me - and now she's- forever. And she's right to-"

"She is not," came a sudden voice. An old, but strong male voice.

Harry stopped, glancing up at that voice. The firmness behind it. The strength.

He found himself staring at the oddest man he'd ever met. It was an old, tall man, with long white hair and a beard. He had a crooked nose, half-moon spectacles, and wore long, flowing...what looked like either a purple and blue gown or- old-fashioned robes of some sort? He also had a pointed hat on his head, just like a wizard.

Harry kept staring at this old man...feeling a strange...

"Eliza," the old man spoke the name, infusing it with such compassion and emotion. "If there is one thing you should know in all of this, it is this: What happened was not your fault."

"It was! I couldn't saved- if I'd been faster- stronger-!" Harry immediately protested.

"Eliza, you are just a girl - a child," the old man emphasized. "And the amount of bravery, courage, and fortitude you showed last night was far beyond what any child should ever have to show. Particularly for those for whom...have treated them so wrongly. Yet you tried anyways. You risked yourself, at such a young age, for them. And that is an amazing thing - something to be commended - but it should not have been necessary. And it does not put you at fault...for their loss. You acted valiantly, wonderfully, dear girl - but sometimes even that simply isn't enough. And no one can fault you for that. No one."

Harry looked down, biting his cheek. "Sorry, sir, but - who are you?" he said, searching for something else to focus on. To talk about. It wasn't as if he believed the man's words anyways...as much as he wanted to...

"My name...is Albus Dumbledore, Eliza. I am the Headmaster of a very special boarding school, called Hogwarts. One that your parents once attended."

Harry glanced up instantly - finding himself staring into the old man's eyes. Dumbledore had knelt down in front of Harry, so quiet and swift Harry hadn't even noticed somehow. "My parents?"

Dumbledore nodded, giving a small smile through his beard. "Yes. Lily and James Potter. They were very fine students, gifted, sociable - and after graduation, I even came to see them as good friends."

"But my aunt and uncle said my parents were drunks - lousy, no-good-"

"Your aunt and uncle lied to you, Eliza," Dumbledore sighed. "About many things, it would seem. Your life with them has not been what one would have hoped it to be. Not at all. But...I hope to start fixing that now."

Harry looked at Dumbledore in confusion. "What do you mean? What did they lie about?"

"It is a long and not too pleasant story, at times," Dumbledore said softly. "But, I think...I can tell you the good parts - for now."

"I want to know everything about-"

"Eliza, on a day such as this, you do not need more grief and tragedy," Dumbledore refuted, shaking his head.

Harry sat there, wanting to say he was fine. That he could handle it. That he'd always...

But-

Harry nodded. "Right...tell me about them, then. Please."

"I shall - but first, there is something else I must tell you about," Dumbledore said, clear and slow.

"What?" Harry said, puzzled. Impatient.

"Magic, dear...magic."

Harry had listened raptly to Headmaster Dumbledore's stories about his parents.

Stories involving a magic castle, magic wands, broomsticks and lakes with giant squids in them...

He'd asked for proof, first, of course - and Dumbledore had given it to him.

Mrs. Figg hadn't been shocked at all by the display - which had led to Harry learning she was...well, not magical, but she knew about it all already. She'd been living here so she could...keep an eye on Harry.

When Harry had asked about it, Dumbledore had promised to explain it soon, but had told him that "suffice it to say, in the magical world, you're something of a celebrity."

Harry had wracked his brains then, thinking of anything he could have done to make him famous to magical people...but he couldn't come up with anything. So he'd decided to take the man at his word, his promise, and had just eagerly begun listening to tales of his parents, when they weren't much older than him!

After an hour or more of these stories, however, Harry did find new questions and fears rising to the front of his mind.

"Headmaster Dumbledore - sir - what's going to happen to me now? I mean, if I'm meant to go to this school, I don't think my aunt would let me." He paused. "She wouldn't pay for it, at least. And what am I to do about coming home for summers? I mean-" He stopped himself again, looking away.

"For one thing, Eliza, Hogwarts is free - though I must say your parents left you a considerable wealth in their vault, to ensure you could be taken care of. And for another thing...well, unfortunately, after the events of last night - and what I have learned of your time in that household after meeting with your aunt over at the hospital...you understandably will not be returning to your aunt's- custody," Dumbledore spoke quietly.

"I won't?" Harry said, looking up in shock - and elation. Excitement! But- "But then where would I go, sir?"

Dumbledore looked at him with a sad smile for a moment. He reached over to pat him on the shoulder briefly. "That is something to be decided by myself and the Ministry of Magic - though of course, your opinion will be given great weight and consideration. But I want to assure you, Eliza...that I will ensure that the new home you go to will be one as unlike your aunt's as possible. I will do all in my power, fight with all my strength, to make that happen. I promise you."

Harry was a bit taken aback by the man's intensity, his proclamation. But...he felt touched, all the same. Even not having known this man for more than an hour or two. This man who'd known and taught his parents. "Thank you, Headmaster," he said. Though, internally, he thought...did he really want to get his hopes up? It didn't sound like it was a sure thing, no matter what this man promised...

"So my aunt - did she even...want me back?" Harry asked instead.

Dumbledore just looked at him.

That was all the answer Harry needed. To that question, at least.

It was an answer that still hurt more than he would've thought.

Then Dumbledore told him something that made him feel a little happier.

He told Harry that, while he would be waiting for the Ministry of Magic to sort out his "long term guardianship arrangements", Dumbledore himself would be taking Harry to Hogwarts...unless Harry wanted something else, he added swiftly.

Harry had looked at Mrs. Figg. Then, he'd thought of the two girls at his school...the ones he could almost...maybe call friends? But not friends enough that he'd ever just ask to...and would their families even say yes? Would they want to?

He didn't think so. Not after something like this.

So, ultimately, Harry had said that Hogwarts sounded fine to him.

He really was looking forward to seeing this place a whole year early!

"Excellent," Dumbledore said kindly. "Now, would you prefer to remain here with Mrs. Figg a while longer, or would you like to come to Hogwarts sooner rather than later? We can arrange for either, I think."

Harry gave Mrs. Figg an apologetic look. A bit of a sheepish grin. "Erm - Hogwarts."

"I'd have picked that, too," Mrs. Figg said with a laugh. "The girl's got good sense!"

Harry flushed, then looked back to Dumbledore. He hesitated, now, swallowing a thought. But, if his aunt really didn't want him anymore...if he wasn't going back, ever, then...

"Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, could I ask you something first? About - about magic?"

"Ask away, dear girl."

"Well, er, that's just it, actually. I- I'm not- really a girl," Harry stammered out. "I mean...I wasn't, up until nearly a year ago. One day I just sort of...erm, woke up and I was- like this. You know, a girl and everything. Can magic do that? Is it something that just happens to magical people sometimes, I suppose? And- is there a way to change back? I thought it was strange, of course, but before I never even knew about magic, so I just sort of came to accept it. And my relatives were always telling everyone of course I was never any different, and I guess they all believed it - they had to, right? - and so did I...in a way. But now...can you fix it?"

Dumbledore regarded Harry for a long minute of silence. His eyes seemed to be sweeping over Harry. Peering inside his very soul. "So you did not choose this for yourself, you say?" he spoke softly.

"Definitely not," Harry said quickly, firmly. "Why would I choose to- do this to myself? I don't even know how I would have done it!"

"Alright, then. Let us see what we are working with, then...if I may? I'd like to cast a few spells on you - nothing harmful at all. Just so I can see what might be happening within your body. Is that alright?"

"Sure!" Harry said eagerly. Hopefully.

Dumbledore gave a nod, then he reached into his sleeve again and took out his magic wand. He gave it a gentle wave in front of Harry, leaving trails of pink and purple sparks. He gave a few pokes, eliciting little puffs of blue smoke. Then he lowered his wand and raised a hand to his beard. "...Of course, of course. Given who - or rather, what - your mother was, I do suppose we should have expected this to happen. But so early...it can only indicate..."

Harry watched the man, feeling the suspense. "My mother? What about her, sir? What do you mean by 'what' she was? And does that mean you know what happened to me? Is it something to do with her, somehow...?"

Dumbledore sighed, letting his hand fall and fixing Harry with an amused look now. "Well, I'd hoped to delay giving you this knowledge for a later time...I wouldn't want to drop too much weight onto your young shoulders, ah - is Eliza still fine for you, or would you prefer to go by 'Harry' from now on, then? That is to say, you consider yourself a boy and not a girl, correct?"

"Yes! Call me Harry, sir! And- please tell me what you know!" Harry said, relieved and eager. He wanted to know everything about his parents!

"Well..." Dumbledore hedged, still in that amused tone. "The thing about your mother, Harry, is that she was a dragon."

"She was a- a what?"

"A dragon. Not the largest, or the strongest, perhaps, but a dragon nonetheless."

"Erm...I don't really understand, sir. I mean - does that mean my dad was a dragon, too? And- does that mean- that I'm...?"

"Oh, no, your father was very much human. Your mother was only capable of transforming into one when it suited her best." Dumbledore paused, smiling at Harry. "Though, like yourself, she did grow up the majority of her life believing she was human. She was born and raised as human - though in her soul she was, of course, always still a dragon, and she came to consider herself one in due time. In fact, I rather reckon she spent more time in her true, draconian form than in her human one, those last few years..."

"You're really confusing, sir," Harry said, frowning now.

"Why, thank you," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "It's been...how long since I last received that compliment? Hmm...now where were we? Ah, yes! Your mother, Lily - or, Lil'eora, as she later came to call herself - was a dragon. Her own mother was also a dragon, though a natural born one whom would often take on the guise of a human. She was enamored with muggle society and culture, and risked many trips into muggle cities to learn all she could about them. There, on one such trip, she met your grandfather, and they fell in love and married, and the rest is history. As she was a dragon in human form when she had Lily, so too was Lily herself born in human form. I do not know the reasons why your grandmother and grandfather chose to raise Lily and Petunia as humans, but-"

"Wait, so if my mum was a dragon - doesn't that mean Aunt Petunia is too?" Harry interrupted with a gasp of horror.

Dumbledore shook his head at that. "Alas, no. As I said, your mother was human in form, but dragon at heart - in soul and spirit. That is what truly determines who and what we are, Harry, not what we look like on the outside. Just as you yourself have now been changed to appear to the world as a young girl, yet declare yourself to me as still a boy at heart. It is the same on a more general, wider scale: one may look human but not consider one's self to be so. Magic is capable of many wondrous things, Harry."

"Okay, so you're saying Aunt Petunia was...human in soul, then? So she couldn't - do magic or transform or anything? Like my mum could?"

"Something like that, yes," Dumbledore nodded. He hesitated, then he leaned over, as if imparting a secret. "And I believe you are the same way, Harry - the same as your mother, that is. Just as you say you are a boy with the body of a girl, I think we have proof that you also have the soul of a dragon despite being in the body of a human."

"What? You're saying I was born a dragon? That I am a dragon?"

"Well, if you don't want to think of yourself that way, then you don't have to be," Dumbledore said amiably. "You can continue to think of yourself as a human - just as you still think of yourself as the boy, Harry, and not the girl, Eliza. There is nothing saying you must transform, or do anything with this...other aspect of yourself, Harry. Just because your mother may have delved into that part of her soul and life, does not mean you need do the same. But if you ever should want to, if you ever feel ready...of course you can. And I would be there to help you with it, as I once did your mother."

"But how do you know I'm a dragon or not? I mean, inside?" Harry asked. "What's the proof you were talking about?"

"Well, the proof would be the fact of your body changing like this at all, at this age. Tell me, Harry, since this happened to you, have you been experiencing any strange symptoms? Perhaps nausea? Sickness? Heat flashes? High temperatures?"

"How did you know?" Harry said, staring in amazement.

Dumbledore chuckled. "An educated guess, Harry. As I've told you, I did help your mother, once. And in all my personal research into the subject, I did learn a thing or two as well. So I take it my guess was correct?"

"Yeah...yeah, it is. It's been happening on and off, ever since the day this happened to me," Harry admitted. "But why? What does it mean?"

"Well, put simply - and forgive me for bringing up a potentially embarrassing and sensitive topic - these are symptoms of dragon puberty."

"D-dragon- p-puber...?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely, nodding at him. "In a biologically-shaped dragon - that is to say, a 'normal' dragon - these changes would indicate the development of their inner fires. Gaseous and combustible organs, and throat glands necessary to direct and output the flames. It can be an erratic and unstable time in a dragon's life, causing fevers and hot scales, as well as other inconveniences. It usually presents itself as something akin to a sickness, one that comes and goes in waves, until it all eventually levels off and stabilizes."

"Okay...I think that makes enough sense to me. But what did my turning into a girl have to do with any of that?"

"Ah, now that, I think, was your own magic at work. Not intentionally, not knowing - but...these things do happen..."

"My own magic?"

"Yes. Sometimes, most commonly around puberty, magical humans do find their bodies changing wholesale from...err, one to the other. And that is perfectly normal and harmless for them! It might be confusing and uncertain, frightening for a time, but in such cases we usually find that...in time...it turns out to be for the better. Their own magicks would not have done such a thing for them if it was going to harm them, Harry. Accidentally triggered magic is always defensive in nature - even such a powerful and rare transformation as that. That is to say, if your magic and body did this for you, then it was because they felt it would be to your benefit, even if you can't see it just yet."

So then, it really wasn't like his aunt or uncle had...forced all this on him, was it? Here was this wizard, telling him he'd done it to himself! His own "magic" had done it to him...his own body had changed itself...and it wasn't meant to be a bad thing? Well, Harry had found things to like about it, sure, but...

"So, I'm just supposed to accept it, then?" Harry asked quietly.

"I could not answer that for you, Harry," Dumbledore responded. "But I think, with enough time, and some soul-searching, you can discover that answer for yourself. However, whether you do or don't, I want you to know there are some very expert, full-body Transfiguration specialists at our magical hospitals that can indeed 'change you back' if you wish for that. Now or later. The choice is yours - and the cost is of no object, so don't worry about that."

"Then I'd like to do that, sir - as soon as I can," Harry said firmly, looking the man in the eye.

"Then of course we shall," Dumbledore stated. "I will make the arrangements for you, and we should be able to get you in by the end of the week or so."

"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore!"

"Think nothing of it - dear boy. I only hope it will be what you need to feel most comfortable with yourself in your life. Now then: to Hogwarts we go!" Dumbledore exclaimed, leaping to his feet and clapping. "Up now, Harry!"

Harry did jump up in excitement now, content to let the rest of his questions and worries fall away.

For the time being...

Chapter Text

Harry's time at Hogwarts was wonderful.

He spent the better part of two weeks simply exploring it all - and getting to know the ones who would be his future professors (one of them, Professor Snape, seemed to pretty much be determined to avoid looking at him, or saying a single word to him - which Harry was fine with respecting, and returning in kind). Beyond his teachers, though, he encountered talking portraits, shifting doors, disappearing stairs, suits of armor that moved when he wasn't looking...

And even after all of that, he still didn't think he could ever explore even a tenth of the grand, magical castle! Not to mention the grounds surrounding it (where he'd met the Gameskeeper, Hagrid, a huge man who was a good friend to his parents, and who Harry grew to like a lot - especially after Hagrid, having listened to Harry ramble on worriedly about the whole "dragon" thing, had given him a knowing look and a pat on the head, and told him, "Do what makes ya happy, Harry; always be yerself, and don't let anyone make yeh feel ashamed of it!").

At the end of his first week, true to his word, the Headmaster had taken Harry to the magical hospital in London - St. Mungo's - where some of their "Healers" had done magic to put Harry's body back to how it had been up until recently. After that, Dumbledore had taken Harry in for a trip to a magical place called Diagon Alley, where they'd visited the magic bank and various shops. A bookstore, and a clothing store, mainly; Harry was able to get pants and shirts again to wear, using the money from his Gringotts vault. The amount of money left to him by his parents was staggering, and honestly, he was relieved that his relatives must have never known about it - else they would have stolen it all away faster than he could blink!

It was then, too, that he'd finally been told the truth about his parents by Dumbledore. About their murders - at the hands of an evil wizard, called Voldemort. That this man had tried to kill Harry, too, but had failed...because of his mother. His mum, Lily. She'd loved him, gave her life for him, and had protected him from Voldemort's spell. That was why Harry was famous, in the magical world: he was known to all as 'The Boy Who Lived'. A boy who'd survived a spell that had never once failed before...

At the end of the second week, Dumbledore had informed Harry that the Ministry of Magic's childcare offices had worked hard to "expedite his case, in the wake of such tragedy", with some help from Dumbledore himself, and they had come up with what seemed to be a very good option for him. A new home - with a family that was willing and able to take him in.

Harry wasn't sure about it at all...he argued for just staying at Hogwarts instead, but Dumbledore had given a bit of a smile and told him he couldn't just live at Hogwarts for the rest of his life. And then the old wizard had reminded Harry that he'd made him the promise...to try and trust him on this.

Harry had still spend two days alone with it before giving his answer.

He'd give it a try. See how it went. But he wanted to be able to leave it again if it didn't...work out. He said bluntly to Dumbledore: "I never had a choice to just leave the Dursleys - but I won't let myself get stuck with people like that ever again. If it's awful, I am going to walk out and never look back. I don't care where I go or what I have to do!"

Dumbledore had considered him seriously, then given a firm nod. "If you feel you must do that, you will have my full support in looking for alternatives, Harry. But I promise you, this will be different. I will personally make sure of that. I have spoken to them at length already, and I will be making regular check-ins with them, and with you, more importantly - sometimes at random, just to catch them off guard. Just to be sure. Are you alright with that?"

Harry had gazed at the man in a bit of shock. Then he'd nodded back. Gave a bit of a grin, now, at the idea. "I'm alright with it, yes."

"Good!"

Harry had then asked to meet with these people first, at least a few times, before deciding if he really wanted to just go stay with them yet; Dumbledore had nodded and said "Of course - that's quite sensible, dear boy. And I'm sure they will be understanding of it."

Dumbledore had then told him about these people - this family.

"Now, they are a mixed family called the Turpins - a wizard, named Gerald, and a muggle man named Mark. They have a daughter your age, her name is Lisa. Having met the young lady already, I can say she's over the moon about the idea of having you as a sibling. Not to put undue pressure on you, of course. I just thought you should know..." Dumbledore had spoken lightly, his eyes twinkling.

Honestly, that did sort of put Harry a bit more at ease. At least, if he could believe it...the idea that this girl wasn't going to be like Dudley. Well, maybe it would wear off after a few days, and then the girl would start resenting and hating him...

Harry would brace himself for it, anyway.

As for the parents - well...a part of him found it a little odd, that, but the rest of him actually found it sort of interesting. He was mainly just curious, he supposed. Though, it might have also been that he just liked spiting the Dursleys, and their obsession with all things "normal". He'd heard them ranting too many times to count, about things like Harry's odd dreams, to "ponces and sissies" and other, more extreme insults and words for people who lived or just looked differently from them - simply because they lived differently. Harry had never really been able to see what was so wrong with any of that (and had suffered for voicing this opinion a few times or two).

It wasn't as if that was his main worry, anyway: he was mainly worried about either of the two men treating him like his aunt and uncle always had. If either one of them did...Harry had meant what he'd said to Dumbledore: he wasn't going to simply take it this time - he'd leave. Because anywhere would be better than dealing with that again. He had this whole, great vault of magical money now; if he had to, he'd make his own way. Find his own place. Somehow...

He felt a little more secure for it, at any rate - having that in his back pocket now.

And he wanted to believe Dumbledore...that if he, harry, said it wasn't a great place to be...that Dumbledore would listen and- and do what no adult had ever done for Harry before: help him.

When Dumbledore came and told Harry it was time to meet this "Turpin" family, Harry felt conflicted about it still. On one hand, the idea of really getting to go to a new home - escaping the Dursleys forever - was what he'd always wanted, and if this was all he'd dreamed of, then... But on the other hand - well, Harry still felt guilty and terrible about how it had come about. That night, the fire...his aunt...his uncle and his cousin, both gone now...dead. Like his parents...

Harry thought he shouldn't feel so happy about this - not when it had taken their deaths to make it happen!

Though, it wasn't as if he was happy they were dead...was he?

He felt - relieved, yes, that he'd never have to go back to them, but-

Was that just the same thing?

Harry just-

"Harry? Are you ready?" Dumbledore's voice interrupted him quietly.

Harry startled and glanced over at the old wizard. He looked around the man's office - then focused on the fireplace of green flames. For a moment, the room swam, and he saw raging orange flames instead of green- he was choking and gasping, he could hear screaming voices anew-

Harry shook his head furiously, swallowing hard. "Y-yeah - ready, sir."

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, kind and yet sad. He reached out and grasped Harry's shoulder, then gently guided him toward the green flames. "Floo Powder is completely harmless - though a bit of a dizzying way to travel. You simply need to-"

"Step in and say where we're going," Harry finished, nodding. "I heard you - sir."

"And where are we going?" Dumbledore prompted simply.

Harry pulled from the man's grasp and stepped forward on shaking legs. He breathed in, then shut his eyes and strode forward blindly. "The Oaklands House."

Harry opened his eyes as the world started to spin wildly. His arms banged against something hard-

Then he fell forward, stumbling out of a fireplace into an unfamiliar sitting room.

Harry blinked and stared around him - then looked at the two people sitting together on a big, green sofa.

Two men, hand in hand, who'd been gazing at the fireplace like they were waiting for something.

Well, of course, that something was him - Harry.

Harry and-

The green flames of this new fireplace flared brightly, and then Dumbledore was stepping out of it, ducking his head to avoid hitting it (or maybe knocking off his pointy hat).

Dumbledore stepped up next to Harry, giving him a clasp on the shoulder and a smile. "Well done, Harry. You seem to have made it here with more grace than I would have expected for one's first time!"

"Er - thanks," Harry said, rubbing at his elbows self-consciously now. "It wasn't really that smooth, though..."

"Ah, yes, one must always remember to tuck the elbows in during travel. Did I forget to mention that?" Dumbledore frowned.

"I think you might've," Harry murmured reassuringly. He'd been the one who'd just - forgotten it - in all his worrying.

Dumbledore chuckled, patting Harry again before taking a smooth step forward.

The two men had risen from the sofa now, to stand before Dumbledore and Harry.

One was tall with a good amount of blonde facial hair and a beard, and messy strands of head hair that reached his shoulders. The other was shorter and skinnier, with a clean shaven face and a head of short brown hair. Both were fairly fair skinned. The taller one had olive green eyes, while the shorter man had light blue eyes.

Both pairs of eyes were gazing at Harry with kindness and warmth. Both those faces wore smiles.

Harry wasn't sure if it was just all some big act, though...put on for him - and for Dumbledore - until the old wizard would leave...leave Harry with them...

The Dursleys, after all, had always been so very good at putting on smiles and manners to anyone they brought into their home. The better for Vernon to make those business deals of his...

Harry knew well not to trust a smile or polite words.

"Well then, we all know why we're here, I hope," Dumbledore spoke to the two men, with a pleasant smile on his own face as well. "Young Harry here simply wanted to meet you all a time or two before making his ultimate decision, as I'm sure you can understand."

"Of course we can, Professor," spoke the tall blonde-haired man, giving the old wizard a nod.

"Harry can take this as slow as he needs; we're in no rush," said the shorter man - flashing a smile right at Harry now. He paused, then added, "Though I think Lisa is..."

"Oh, so I've heard," Dumbledore agreed, laughing. "But we mustn't overwhelm Harry - and little Lisa is quite liable to do that, isn't she? By the by, where would she happen to be right now?" he added casually.

"She's upstairs - why?" spoke the blonde man. "Do you want her down here for full introductions?"

Dumbledore looked down at Harry. "What do you think, Harry? Would you like to meet the whole family now, or later?"

Harry gazed at him. Then, at the two men. He shrugged. "Now's fine, I guess." Best to get it over with, right? he thought nervously.

No point delaying, really...

"Are you sure?" said the short man, his blue eyes meeting Harry's. "If it's too much, we don't have to-"

"It's fine," Harry repeated, holding that gaze right back. Determined to.

The man watched him a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Well, in that case: my name's Mark - and this is my husband Gerald. It's very nice to meet you, Harry."

"Pleased to meet you, too - sir," Harry said, though he wasn't sure yet if he really was or not.

"And our daughter is Lisa, of course," Mark went on. "I'll go and get her now, if that's alright."

"Alright," Harry shrugged, to hide his nerves.

"Thank you, Mark," Dumbledore said sincerely.

Mark left the room, leaving Harry, Dumbledore, and Gerald alone.

At least Harry could put names to faces, now. And they hadn't needed any awkward introductions either; no handshakes or anything like that.

That did still leave one name and one face he didn't have yet, though: this Lisa Turpin girl...

This girl who was going to be like- if this worked out- if it could possibly be...

Because Dumbledore had said it wasn't just "guardianship", it was going to be adoption, in a few weeks time (if Harry found that "acceptable" by then). Adoption meant family. It meant parents. It meant...having something he'd never had before. Having a-

Harry's private thoughts and worries were interrupted by the return of the man, Mark - and a girl trailing along behind him in a blue summer dress.

She had the same blonde hair as Gerald - but long, tidy, and tied up into a ponytail with a blue ribbon. She was also tall - a lot taller than Harry. She didn't look like an almost-ten-year-old (or maybe just ten, depending on her birthday); she looked more like a twelve year old.

She also wasn't as skinny as Harry, either (which made him have another bout of sudden self-consciousness)...

The girl fixed dark green eyes on him immediately. She had her hands together at her waist, buried in her dress folds. She squirmed and twisted her fists around there.

She must've been real nervous, too, then, Harry thought. Or else she just really had to go to the bathroom. He almost snickered at that thought. Then he thought better of it, with a twinge of guilt; he didn't even know this girl yet - she could be nice. She could actually become a friend. His first, real...

"Hi," she said, in a high voice, blinking at him.

Harry blinked back at her. "Hello. Er - so I'm- Harry. Harry Potter."

"I'm Lisa," the girl said quietly - and then she smiled at him.

They stared at each other some more.

Is this going well or not?

Harry couldn't really tell.

He didn't think the girl's parents - or even Dumbledore - could tell, either.

"Erm - nice dress?" Harry said uncertainly.

The girl blushed, her mouth opening in an audible gasp. She put a hand up to her mouth, then dropped it again to reveal a new, shy smile. "Th-thanks..."

"She's not usually like this," spoke Mark, giving Harry a wink over the tall girl's head.

"It won't last long," said Gerald, with a chuckle. "I hope not, anyway - I like our noisy house."

"It's fine," Harry blurted, staring into the girl's eyes. "Having some strange new boy show up in your home - I get it. It's strange, isn't it."

The girl looked at him with surprise. Then she gave a swift nod. "It's real strange..." she agreed, still in that quiet voice. Unsure - like she didn't think she should be agreeing with him about it. "But I think it's going to be nice," she added, surprising Harry.

"I-" Harry's words caught in his throat. He nodded back to the girl - Lisa. "I hope it will be, too," he said finally.

It was the truest, most deeply held wish in his heart right then.