Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was tired. So tired.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually had a full night of sleep since Cedric died, and since the whole wizarding world collectively decided that they all hated him. Sleep was a rare luxury now, since the Dursleys made him work late into the night and made him wake up at the crack of dawn every morning. Even while wearing his glasses, Harry's vision often blurred, and he often bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from passing out on the lawn - Merlin forbid he fainted and dared ruin one of Aunt Petunia's precious roses. She never grew lillies - did they remind her too much of her sister that died saving the nephew she used for slave labour?

He wasn't lying to them, Harry thought to himself as he bit his lip to stop the tears spilling down his face, why was he punished for simply telling the truth? He was only trying to protect the world that had saved him from a lifetime of abuse from the people that were supposed to love and treasure him. He continued to pull the nettles out of Aunt Petunia's beloved rosebeds. His hands were already red, raw and bleeding - Uncle Vernon refused to let him use gloves - and Harry wanted to scream in pain. He missed Sirius, he missed Sirius more then he missed Ron and Hermione, or anybody at Hogwarts. He missed the one adult in his life who truly made him feel safe and secure.

"Hurry up, boy! The day is wasting away!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen window, his face an ugly shade of purple and red - that couldn't be healthy, Harry thought to himself. "The chores won't do themselves. You still have to paint the fence out the front garden!"

"Yes sir, I'll be there in a minute." Harry said, his voice trembling. Nevermind that he'd already spent hours outside, including an hour on the ladder cleaning all the gunk out of the gutters. His face and shoulders were pink from the sun, and he was pretty sure he was going to be sunburnt when he woke up tomorrow morning. With the bruises and cuts Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon gave him daily - Harry's body was in a fiery pit of agony. He was sorely tempted to steal painkillers out of the bathroom but didn't want to risk getting beaten for it again.

Harry heard the sliding door open, and pain - horrible, white hot pain - exploded through his head as Uncle Vernon picked out the heaviest rock he could find and threw it at the back of his head. Harry held back a whimper of pain as he felt hot blood trickle down his head. He was only a target for sport - that's all he was to these people. Their own personal punching bag to take their anger out whenever they damn well pleased. His parents and Sirius would never do this to him. Harry often wondered in another universe, what kind of summers would he have with his parents? He might even have brothers and sisters.

"That'll teach you a lesson." Uncle Vernon laughed. Then his voice went ice cold again, low so the neighbours wouldn't hear. "Be done in ten minutes. That fence has to be done by dinner or you'll be done for. No dinner tonight either."

"Yes sir." Harry said, as he wiped his bloody hands off his jeans. He was boiling in the July heat - he had no shorts, and the Dursleys wouldn't let him wear an old pair of Dudley's, so Harry was at risk of heatstroke every time he stepped outside. He felt very faint - he wasn't allowed any breakfast, and Aunt Petunia would only allow him some stale cheese and bread for lunch, but Harry had been so hungry he didn't even care as he nearly choked on the meagre lunch before being thrown out of the kitchen into the garden. 

Harry dumped the nettles and weeds into the compost bin, and stood for a solid two seconds as he fought off the hunger and the dizziness. He hoped his friends loved him enough to come and get him before his birthday. Harry would cry if he had to spend his fifteenth birthday alone in his bedroom, and with stale bread as a birthday cake as he had donee several times in his cupboard. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had forbid Harry to have any type of sweet treats in the house in case Dudley found them and ate them, therefore putting his boxing career at risk. 

He saw a tawny owl fly over the garden and over towards Mrs. Figgs' house - Harry had recently found out from Ron that she was a Squib, which throughly surprised him, and he suspected Dumbledore had put her in Privet Drive to keep an eye on him. It made sense now why she was trying to have come around for tea nearly every evening. He took her up on her offer once a week, the one night a week he could gurantee himself a hot meal. 

Harry wouldn't deny that Mrs. Figg was a good cook. Last week she'd made him a roast dinner and given him cheesecake for dessert - the first time Harry had eaten in two days at that point.

Harry really felt like he was about to faint. The front garden fence was nearly painted the eye watering white Uncle Vernon demanded, and so far Harry had not been allowed to have a drink of water. The cuts on his arm stung underneath his hoodie, and Harry hoped they hadn't begun to bleed again.

Self harming - Harry knew he shouldn't have picked up the habit, but how else was he meant to let out his feelings? How could he burden Sirius with that sort of thing? How could he burden Ron and Hermione more then he already had? It's not like he did it that often anyways - maybe once or twice a night, with an old razor he'd stolen out of the bathroom. Every night, he'd slash his pale skin and watch droplets of blood trickle down his skin, and feel something besides the mental agony. He at least felt physical pain instead of mental pain for once in his life.

If he died, if he cut too deep, would he see his parents again? Would he hear their voices again? Would he finally know them as his own people, and not from other people's stories? Would he finally hug his mother, and know her embrace? Would he finally know how his father sounded like when he laughed? Would he finally meet his grandparents? Harry knew virtually nothing about both sets of his grandparents - not even his maternal grandparents, which confused him seeing as his mother and Aunt Petunia had shared the same parents. As for his paternal family, as far as Harry knew they were all dead and gone. He didn't even know where his parents were buried. He'd never been to see their graves, and he was one hundred percent sure that Aunt Petunia had never been to visit either.

What would his parents think of his self harming problem? Harry dreamed of their reaction every night, craving love from parents he barely knew - he liked to think his mother would burst into floods of tears and hold him tightly in her arms, and he imagined his father's face would crumple, and he'd stroke Harry's hair, promising him that he'd get the help he needed.

"Inside!" Aunt Petunia shrieked in her horrible shrill voice from the doorway. Harry silently thanked Merlin above that he could finally get out of this heat. "The Montgomerys will be here for dinner soon, and I don't want them seeing someone like you lurking around!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry hastily put away the paint and paintbrushes in the shed, making sure everything was back exactly where Uncle Vernon liked it or he'd be punished again and Aunt Petunia shoved a plate of lumpy mashed potatoes, a burnt porkchop and carrots boiled so much they had turned into a pale orange mush. He thanked her, and she slapped him across the face before pratically shoving him up the stairs and locking his bedroom door, hissing at him to shut up for once or she'll make sure he'd end up beside his parents.

Harry had never been so relieved to be locked away in his tiny bedroom. Like his cupboard under the stairs, his bedroom was his sactunary away from Hogwarts and Sirius. In all the months at Hogwarts the Dursleys never once opened the windows or hoovered the room, so by the time Harry returned to Privet Drive his room was full of dust and mold creeping around the windowsill. He'd already gotten sick several times that summer, and it was getting to come up with excuses for Mrs. Figg, who was growing even more suspicious by the week, her questions about his life at the Dursleys getting even more personal and specific by the week.

"Hi Hedwig." Harry said weakly as he curled up on his bed, feeding his snowy owl the pieces of porkchop she wouldn't turn her beak at. He noticed she had letters and a tiny package tied to her leg. "Thanks for my letters, girl. Did you have a nice flight?"

Hedwig chriped softly as she held out her leg so Harry could take his letters. His heart lept with joy when he saw the package and one of the letters was from Sirius. He hadn't felt this happy since.. since the last time Harry had gotten a letter from Sirius.

Harry,

Pup, I miss you more every day. I'm sick of being cooped up in this house - but hey, Dumbledore's orders, I guess. I wonder how much you've grown since I saw you last. As it comes up to your fifteenth birthday (fifteen, how have the years gone by so quickly?) you look more and more like James and Monty everyday it scares me and Moony. You definetely have Effie's sass and Charlus' sense of humor, Dorea's hot temper and Lily's kindness and heart of gold - and her eyes, but I expect you're sick of hearing that by now. You are truly a Potter, don't you worry. They live on inside you everyday.

Who was Monty, Harry thought to himself as Uncle Vernon greeted that evening's guests at the front door in a loud, cheery voice, and why was Sirius saying he looked like him? And who were Effie, Dorea and Charlus? Old childhood friends, maybe? Classmates at Hogwarts? Harry had never heard of them before. Maybe they were in the trophy room at Hogwarts.

I have great news - you're getting out of the Dursleys! Dumbledore was refusing because of the bloodwards, but you only need to be there for about a month, and besides, I want to spend your birthday with you. I haven't spent a birthday with you since you were a baby and old and small enough to sit on my lap. I've been sending Moony out to Diagon Alley and the shops in the Muggle world to get you your birthday presents. You'll be spoilt rotten this birthday, Harry, I promise you that! Molly is planning out your birthday dinner already thanks to Ron who told her all your favourite foods, and Ron and Hermione have owl ordered their presents for you as well. We all miss you here. I expect you'll be here about a couple of days before your birthday. Dumbledore wants to leave it until the day of your birthday, but we vetoed that. I won't subject you to Petunia's wrath any longer, don't worry. I only met her a few times but Merlin that woman was a viper.

There's not much going on down at my end, same old thing day in and day out to be honest. I just miss you, Prongslet. I have so many things of James and Lily to show you - there's not much to do but clean here, and I've found so many things from my childhood and Hogwarts days I think you'd really like to see.

"Oi." Dudley hissed from outside of Harry's bedroom door. Harry looked up just in time to see Dudley shove a half cold cup of tea and some melted chocolate biscuits in through the cat flap Uncle Vernon had installed that one summer Ron, Fred and George had come to rescue him. "I don't like these. You can have them."

Harry wondered why Dudley was being so nice to him for once. He couldn't remember the last time the Dursleys had been nice enough to make him a cup of tea. And not liking chocolate biscuits? Was Dudley feeling okay?  "Thanks." He said softly. There was a pause. Then Dudley coughed awkwardly.

"They'll be here for ages - the Montogmerys. They'll probably be leftovers, Mum made too much. I might bring some for you and that owl."

"Thanks, Dudley. That's, uh, that's very kind." Harry could have hugged Dudley. The pathetic scraps Petunia had given him were barely enough for Hedwig and Uncle Vernon kept nagging him about letting her out every night because he didn't want the neighbours to spot her and ask any questions. He'd been so worried since he'd come home for the summer about whether Hedwig was getting enough to eat, but she was never mad at him.

"Whatever. Shush, before my dad hears me talking to you, and you get in trouble." 

Harry sniffed the tea and eventually concluded it was not a closeted attempt by his aunt and uncle to poison him. He fed Hedwig some of the biscuits, and for a moment was tempted to drink the water out of her tray before eventually deciding it wasn't a good idea. Whenever they let him out to use the toilet he'd have to fill up her bowl

Dumbledore is sending people from our circle to come get you. Don't worry, you'll be perfectly safe. We have a plan for getting the Dursleys out of the way long enough for them to be able to come and fetch you. Make sure you have all your things packed in time since you won't be going back until next summer. I can't wait to see you - I wish I could come get you but there's that added catch of me being a fugitive from the whole Ministry. I made sure Moony would be one of the people coming to collect you, so at least there's that. 

Make sure you're eating and drinking enough, there's a heatwave, and being cooped up in this house all summer is boiling me alive, the heat will kill me before the boredom does. I don't want you getting sick before your birthday, that wouldn't be ideal. 

I'll say this again, I really miss you Prongslet. I can't wait to see you again. We'll have the best summer ever, I promise, even being cooped up in this house for the summer. But I have some good news? Kind of? It's very sad, and I want you to know that you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Me and Moony are seeing if its safe for him and Moody to go to your parents' house to see if anything can be salvaged. But since it's been so long, I doubt there is much, but we figured it can't hurt to try. We wanted to ask your permission first, and if you say no that's okay, Moody will go and set up some extra wards just in case Voldemort decides to poke his nose around

I've never been back to your parents' house after they died and I'm obviously not able to at the moment. Moody we figured would be the best choice of them  - he knew both your parents quite well and was one of the first people to meet you after you were born.

Mad Eye will be one of the people to collect you, so when he arrives ask him who was his mentor when he started training to be an Auror - it was Henry Potter, not many people know that. Ask Moony what animal was in his office when he was teaching you at Hogwarts. Just some basic secruity questions, Pup, don't worry, we did this during the last war. There may be a third person going along with them, but we're not sure who just yet.

Write back as soon as you can Prongslet so we know if this is something you'd like to do.

See you soon, and remember that I love you more then you'll ever know,

Padfoot :)

P.s the package has a pair of new shoes - couldn't resist sending them a bit earlier, plus Ron said your old ones were in shambles.

Harry started to cry as quietly as he could as Aunt Petunia fake laughed at Mrs. Montogomery's joke over coffee and cake in the living room Harry had cleaned from top to bottom that morning. He was going home - he was going home for the first time in fourteen years. He was going to see the place where he'd been born and where he was supposed to grow up. He would see the place where his parents were sleeping permantely and he'd see his nursery that they'd chosen the colours for, picked out his toys and the wallpaper. He was going home, and Sirius wouldn't be there with him, but at least he'd have Remus there.

He didn't even know his grandparents' names, or whether his dad had any cousins, where his grandparents were from, where they went to school, their names - Harry didn't even know his own middle name. It was always embarassing in primary school whenever a teacher asked his middle name, and Harry was never able to answer them.

Wincing as he irritated the cuts on his wrists, Harry began to write back to Sirius while stroking Hedwig through the bars of her cage; he wondered whether he could ask Sirius about the Potters. In those long, lonely, cold nights and days he'd spent in the cupboard under the stairs, Harry dreamed of mornings where an old woman would be making him eggs and toast while singing, and an old man would be sitting at the table chuckling with Harry as he taught him the ways of the world, and his parents would be sitting at the table as well with his baby sister - Harry always wanted a brother and sister, and when he was in primary school he often wrote letters to Santa and the Easter Bunny asking could he have a baby brother and sister so he wouldn't be so lonely.

Padfoot, do you think the Order will hurry up and get me - like, tonight or tomorrow? I'm not having a good time here. I've never been so miserable before. They're all having dinner downstairs and they expect me to stay locked upstairs in my bedroom cause I'm apparently too 'freaky' to be around their business friends and Uncle Vernon said to me that if they spot me they might die of shock on the spot because apparently I'm too ugly to be seen by normal people. This is bullshit. I'm stuck here while everyone else gets to have a whale of a time at Grimmauld. I don't care what Dumbledore says or thinks, if they're mean to me again I'll run away and I'll take the Knight Bus to London. I'm Sirius. Haha, get it? 

I've never been so unhappy before but I'm doing great all things considered. I've spent most of my time doing chores and today I mowed the front and back lawns, painted the shed and the fences in the front and back garden, pulled all the weeds out of Aunt Petunia's flowerbeds, cooked them breakfast, washed the windows, organised the shed, cleaned the inside and outside of the three cars - Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's cars, because apparently Uncle Vernon needs two cars but won't give me more then one slice of toast for breakfast - did three loads of laundry and put them all out on the washing line, cut the hedges and bushes, watered the grass and I had to stand on a ladder for an hour cleaning out the gutters. I'll probably have more chores after the dinner guests leave.

I miss you too Padfoot.  How did Mad Eye know my parents? Was it because of the Order? I'm guessing it was because of that, or because of the war.

I miss you. I hate it here, and they hate me. I want to go home, but where is home for me?

Three days later, and not having eaten since the day the Montgomerys came to dinner, Harry Potter heard a knock on the Dursleys' front door. The Dursleys, thank God, were at some award ceremony for Best Kept English Lawn or some bullshit, which to Harry seemed like an obvious scam. He was far too weak to be able to get up and answer the front door, so he'd hoped whoever was at the door would just come back later. But they knocked again, and again, and again. If it was Voldemort, Harry thought as he sat up and struggled to gather the strength to walk downstairs and open the front door, then he was very determined to stay polite in his quest to kill him.

Then the front door creaked open. Harry, halfway to his bedroom door, froze in his spot, wand by his side, and rapidly went through all the defensive spells Ron and Hermione had ever taught him inside his head in case he had to duel someone. Wobbling on his feet, and nearly walking into the doorframe, Harry walked onto the landing, where he heard whispering downstairs, then a loud crash and something smashed on the hallway floor.

Harry bit his lip in order to stop himself from crying. He'd surely be blamed for this, and now he wouldn't eat until he went back to Hogwarts.

" - Tonks, I swear to Merlin, you're after smashing a bloody vase - "

"I'm sorry, but I can't see anything, Mad Eye, you won't let us turn the lights on - "

Harry couldn't trust it was the real Mad Eye since the one who taught him last year turned out to be a fucking Death Eater.

"We can't risk anything - "

"It's a house! People generally have lights in them."

"Shush, you two. We don't want anyone to know we're here, and call the police." There was Remus! "And Harry might be asleep, we don't want to give him a fright, even if he knows we're coming to collect him."

"It's only six in the evening Lupin, why the hell would he be asleep - "

"Probably so he wouldn't have to listen to you Mad Eye."

Harry was trying to stay secret, but he wanted to laugh at this woman, whoever on earth she was. Sirius hadn't mentioned her in his letter. He grabbed Dudley's baseball from underneath his bed, and walked back to the doorway and left the door open at a tiny crack as the supposed Mad Eye, whoever this Tonks woman was (what a strange name) and Remus walked up the stairs Harry had spent forty minutes hoovering and scrubbing this morning.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes, I saw their car drive away; they didn't take Harry, thank Merlin, or we'd have to wait another day or two. And we all know Sirius is itching to get Harry out of here, he's been so worried since Harry's last letter." Remus said as they reached the top of the landing. Harry peeked out from the crack in his door; it was Remus and Mad Eye, and this Tonks woman had bright pink hair and a cheery smile on her face. "And frankly, I'm worried too, very concerning things written in the last couple of letters. I wonder which room is Harry's - " He says, as he reached out to knock on Harry's bedroom door.

That was the moment Harry threw his bedroom door open with a slam and pointed his wand directly in Remus's face, who looked halfway between impressed, shocked and terrified all at the same time. For a moment, he did not see Remus, but Uncle Vernon after one too many drinks after a bad day at work, ready to take his anger out on his nephew - 

But Harry only saw the tall, browned hair man with a new scar across his face, with the same kind brown eyes Harry had known and trusted for nearly for nearly a year, but Harry remembered what Sirius had told him to do.

"What is the animal that was in the corner of your office when I visited you in your office two years ago?" Harry snarled, putting the baseball bat onto his shoulder and not lowering his wand

"Harry, Merlin's beard - " Remus said, starting to laugh. Tonks let out a full belly laugh, and even Mad Eye's lips twitched.

"What fucking creature?!" Harry spat out, red sparks flying from the end of his wand.

"A Grindlylow. I made you tea, and you complained about not being able to go to Hogsmeade." Remus said, smiling proudly. "I presume Sirius told you to do this."

"Yeah." Harry said, not lowering his wand as he pointed it at the two people behind him; he also didn't let go of the baseball bat. "Who was your mentor when you were training to be an Auror, Mad Eye, or are you Barty Crouch in disguise again?"

Mad Eye snorted. "Got guts, don't you Potter? You're like Monty, in that regard. Henry Potter, he was my mentor."

Harry pointed his wand at Tonks. "And you? Are you - fuck, I don't know, Narcissa Malfoy with pink hair?"

"I'm her niece." Tonks said, snickering.

"Fuck off, no you're not. You're way too nice to be related to Malfoy." 

"No, I swear it's true! My mum's her older sister, only my mum got disowned when she married my dear ol' dad." Tonks said, peaking over Harry's shoulder into his bedroom. "Have you got your stuff packed?"

"Most of it." Harry said, finally lowering his wand, then raising it again. "How do I know if I can trust you?"

"Potter - " Mad Eye tried to say, and Remus looked a bit concerned.

"I have a name, y'know." Harry said. "My parents gave it to me for my birthday. Be a shame to let it go to waste."

Remus snorted with laughter. "Harry - "

"No, Remus, there's a complete stranger in my house, and I'd like to make sure it isn't Voldemort with a brand new hairdo and the nosejob of the century."

"Your head's bleeding!" Tonks gasped. Harry did not put away his wand, but put the baseball bat back with the others beside the door that had mysteriously shown up in his bedroom a few nights after he had returned to Privet Drive. He raised his hand to his head and felt blood in his head, slowly trickling down his forehead. "Merlin, what did you do to it?"

"Molly will patch you up." Remus said, as he moved Harry's hair about to see the cut. He gasped, then winced. "That is a bad cut, what did you do to yourself?"

No - no - Harry couldn't risk having anyone find out, because Sirius would try something reckless and surely end up back in Azkaban, and then Harry would truly have nobody in the world but the Weasleys and Hermione. Uncle Vernon had thrown a mug at his head this morning for overcooking the eggs and burning a couple pieces of bacon - still perfectly edible, but Uncle Vernon decided it was a crime against humanity. So Harry ended up with another cut and a noticeable burn, on his cheek from the boiling coffee. At least Dudley was kind enough to push some burn cream through the cat flap.

"I - um, I - " Harry stumbled over his words, trying to find an excuse. "I walked into the doorframe." He interally cringed. They'd never believe that - a former Auror and a former Defense Against the Dark Arts. Worst excuse ever. "Of my room, yeah. I walked into the door."

Remus raised an eyebrow. Tonks walked past them ("I'll just let your owl out!" She said cheerfully. "She can fly ahead of us.") and Mad Eye stood where he was, watching Remus and Harry with a look in his one remaining eye Harry couldn't deciper.

"Walked into the doorframe does not cause an injury like this." Remus said, squinting at the cut. "I'd say it would need stitiches, but wizards don't respond to those very well, they just straight up dissolve."

"Molly would be able to heal that no problem." Mad Eye said. "I'm sure with those bloody twins she's had her practise. You walk into a lot of doorframes, Harry?"

"I'm real clumsy." Harry said, finally lowering his wand. "Should I pack my trunk?" He said, trying to distract them before they asked more questions. "I've got most of it packed, but there's still a few things I want to bring and show Sirius - "

Harry pulled away from Remus before he could ask anymore questions and went into his bedroom, and started throwing as many of his things into his trunk as possible. Remus and Mad Eye walked in behind them and looked Harry's room as he tried to stuff more of his shoes into his trunk. 

"Harry?" Remus said, in an alarmed tone which made the hairs on Harry's neck stand up. Was he angry - oh no, was he going to be punished already? "Why is this a cat flap on your bedroom door?"

Harry froze for a moment, then laughed awkwardly. Not speaking for a minute, he fumbled around for an excuse. "They have a cat." Harry said. "And she always scarcthes at my bedroom door at night, so they put a cat flap on the door so it could come in and out."

"I see." Remus said, nodding slowly. "Your bedroom is a bit plain. Not a big fan of decroating?"

"Oh - well, I'm at Hogwarts most of the year, so what's the point?" Harry said awkwardly, slamming his trunk lid closed and sitting on the lid in an attempt to close it. He didn't want to risk any of his things getting destroyed.

"Yeah, but even my bedroom when I was at Hogwarts had more decor then this. Posters and all sorts of crap all over the place." Tonks said, wrinkling her nose - over her shoulder, Harry could see Hedwig perched on a tree branch waiting for permission to leave him, and when he gave a small nod, she finally flew away until she became a small white dot in the sunset. "It's real depressing in here. Is that mold?" She said, pointing to the edge of the windowsill, where black 

"I didn't know about that." Harry said. "It must have just happened."

Remus didn't look inclined to believe him but Mad Eye flicked his wand at Harry's trunk and it slammed shut without a problem. "There you go." He said, snorting. "Sitting on it won't do any good."

"You could have done that earlier." Harry said grumpily. "What about Hedwig's cage?"

"Tonks will shrink it and bring it with her." Mad Eye said. "Are you ready now, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry said, looking around his room to make sure none of the things he loved most were left behind - nothing left except Lockhart's books and Harry didn't care if the Dursleys burned those or not. All of Sirius, Ron and Hermione's letters were folded up and in his trunk, and the new shoes Sirius had sent were on his feet. Nothing left here that he cared about. "Yeah, I have everything."

"We'll head out then." Mad Eye said, shrinking Harry's trunk with a flick of his wand and gesturing for Tonks to pick the trunk and the now shrunken cage up. "We've to wait for a signal, but for now everything looks good."

Harry avoided looking at the smashed vase on the floor - Aunt Petunia's favourite, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he'd surely be in for a beating next summer over that. "My broom's in the cupboard." He said, in a high pitched voice as he stepped over the vase. "Can I get it?"

"Sure thing." Remus said. Harry prayed he'd go into the kitchen, but only Tonks and Mad Eye did. Remus stayed, watching Harry closely as he shook with fear as he fumbled with the many locks on the cupboard. Harry prayed Remus wouldn't say anything about the way he was shaking, or the state of his clothes, or the burn on his cheek which you could see much more clearly in the sunlight. But Remus said nothing, thank Merlin. "Why on earth is there no many locks?"

"They don't want anything getting in here." Harry said. Or getting out. 

"So what do they store there? Their life savings?" Tonks said.

"Far from it." Harry snorted, as he opened, trying to avoid letting Remus or Tonks see inside, the signs of the childhood from hell - the scratches on the cupboard walls and door, the drawings scribbled into old scraps, H.P craved into the floorboards in case he straved to death in there and they needed to idenify his body He got his Firebolt and before Remus could get a proper look inside, he slammed the door shut and hastily locked it again. "Just what they call rubbish and anything not worth enough to keep around."

Harry was really beginning to feel dizzy, and he nearly walked into the doorframe (for real this time) as he stumbled into the kitchen. He was visibly shaking now - he couldn't hide it anymore, they all could see he was shaking like a leaf. Mad Eye was looking around the kitchen and out in the garden with his magical eye, Tonks was peering curiously at the microwave and Remus was holding Harry's broom.

"Have you had a nice summer?" Remus asked, as Harry leaned against the kitchen.

"It's been.." Harry paused for the fraction of a second, and Remus noticed. "Fine. Boring, I guess. I just want to see Sirius, and Ron and Hermione as well."

"Sirius has been causing an awful fuss about you coming to Grimmauld." Tonks said, starting to look through the cabinets. "Got lots of birthdays presents for you, I damn near tripped over one of them."

Harry tensed up. "I'm sorry for being a bother."

"What? Oh no, don't apologise, I'm very clumsy, so it was gonna happen at some point or another, right Mad Eye?" Tonks said, looking through the cabinets where Aunt Petunia kept the snacks. Harry worried for the first time, the Dursleys would write to him at Hogwarts to threaten and bully him even more there. 

"Harry, this girl would trip over invisible shoelaces if they existed." Mad Eye said, not looking away from the window.

"Still." Harry said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be - "

"Stop apologising, Harry." Remus said gently. "It's fine. Are you cold?"

"Why do you ask?" Harry said, looking down at his shoes. He knew why Remus was asking; he wasn't stupid. "I'm fine."

"Well, you're shivering quite a bit and - is that a burn on your cheek?" Remus said, looking horrified. "How didn't we notice sooner, it looks quite painful."

"It's fine really." Harry said - and to him, it was, because it didn't hurt as badly as it had earlier. "I splashed myself. Making tea, yeah."

"Really, Harry - "

"Score!" Tonks shouted. "Wagon Wheels!" Harry wondered whether to thank God or Merlin for Tonks finding the Wagon Wheels Uncle Vernon hid in the back of the cupboard; Dudley was on another one of his health kicks for boxing lately and Aunt Petunia had joined him in solidarity.

"Are you bullshitting me Tonks? Eating their food? We're not here for a bloody picnic!" Mad Eye snapped.

"They've three cabinets stuffed full of snacks, Mad Eye! They'll hardly notice." Tonks said, ripping open the packet and immediately stuffing one into her mouth. "Merlin, so bloody good! Here, have one Harry."

Harry shook his head and looked at the freshly mopped hallways - he had done those, yet again. "I don't want them to get angry at me for eating their food. They'll have my head for it."

Tonks frowned. "What? It's not like they're still gonna be angry when you come back for Christmas - "

"Next summer." Harry corrected. "I never come for Christmas, or Easter."

"Well, who cares? They have cupboards full of food, it won't hurt them." Tonks said, waving the packet at him as she chewed. Mad Eye scrunched up what was remaining of his nose and mumbled something under his breath. Harry hestiated - what would happen to him next summer, he'd probably have to learn self defense again - but he was so hungry he didn't care, and took the packet from Tonks and began stuffing Wagon Wheels into his mouth so fast Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Merlin, you're hungry, aren't you? I forgot teenage boys eat like horses; you eat even faster then Ron and the twins combined."

Harry nodded. "Straving." He says between hasty bites, taking a third Wagon Wheel.

"Explains why you're so skinny. Merlin, you're like a rake." Tonks said, swallowing down the last bite.  "Molly's cooking as well, mind you, she'll kill me if I spoiled your dinner."

"I love her cooking; I'll eat my dinner no problem." Harry said, looking towards the cabinets again for more food, and happily tucked into a six pack of breakfast bars and then a packet of Monster Munch as everyone set into a comfortable silence for the next fifteen minutes, only broken by the sounds of Harry's chewing and swallowing. 

Harry hadn't eaten this much since he left Hogwarts for the summer, and now realizing he wouldn't have to face the cousequences of his actions until next June, he ate as much as his stomach desired and needed. He still felt very weak and shaky, but not as bad as he had been before. Maybe the watchful eyes of Mrs. Weasley wouldn't notice anything after he had tucked into a plate of her cooking.

A flash of red light in the sky - then green - and Mad Eye shouted loudly. "Out to the garden!" He barked loudly, and Harry stuffed his mouth with the last of his Monster Munch. "Leave the damn crisps Harry, you're not straving to death."

Little did Mad Eye known, Harry had nearly straved to death several times over his very lonely childhood. "How are we getting there?" He asked, his mouth still slightly full as he licked his fingers of any crumbs. "I hope we're not walking, I've not been keeping up with my cardio."

Tonks grinned. "I like this one, Remus. Was he your favourite at Hogwarts?"

"I don't have favourite students, Tonks." Remus said, but he winked at Harry, who grinned back - he'd never been anyone's favourite student before. "Well, maybe just a little."

"We'll be Apparating." Mad Eye said to Harry. "You'll be Side Along Apparting with Remus, and I have to warn you it's not a very pleasent feeling, so we may be seeing those Wagon Wheels again sooner then we thought."

"Ew, Mad Eye!" Tonks wrinkled her nose up. Harry grabbed onto Remus' arm, clutching onto his Firebolt, and hoped he wouldn't be sick all over his new shoes.

"Right - on three everyone - one, two THREE - "

They appeared suddenly outside a long row of tall black bricked townhouses in what seemed like London. Harry did feel a bit sick, but thankfully didn't empty the contents of his stomach all over the tarmac. He shook his head and stared up at the townhouses - bigger then any house he'd seen in Surrey before. He couldn't believe Sirius lived and grown up in a house like this. Harry wondered where he would raise a family of his own someday - someone bright and sunny, he thought, somewhere near the coast where his sons and daughters could run around on a beach, and where there was no dark cupboards under the stairs.

"Read this." Mad Eye said in a low voice, shoving a piece of paper into his hands. 

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at
number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

"Got it." Harry said, and as soon as he said that, Mad Eye burned the piece of paper. 

Between houses eleven and thirteen, a house began to emerge brick by brick - the TV in number thirteen and the stereo in number eleven kept on blaring loudly enough for the whole street to hear - apparently the Muggles inside hadn't felt a thing, which Harry wondered how on earth was that possible. Soon enough, a house even grander then the ones surrounding them was standing in front of them. 

"Better in quick before you freeze to death." Remus said, noticing Harry beginning to shivering again. "Should have put a coat on, Harry."

"I'm wearing two hoodies." Harry said, teeth chattering as they crossed the road to the townhouse.

"Nobody seen us?" Mad Eye asked, and Tonks nodded. Mad Eye tapped his wand on the front door, and the sound of locks undoing themselves on the other side was heard before Mad Eye pushed open the door to a long, dark hallway. "In you go Harry, before Sirius explodes from excitement."

Sirius - he was going to see Sirius for the first time in months! Harry had never missed someone so badly before. With a grin on his face, he walked into the townhouse. The hallway was long and narrow, but clean, the chandelier shaped like a serpent looked near enough to brand new, and the carpet and wallpaper, although old, was cleaned of most of its cobwebs. Still, it was very dark, and Harry could hardly see a thing. 

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked, as Mad Eye flickered his wand again and old fashioned oil lamps flickered to life.

"They're in a meeting." Remus said, and the door at the very end of the hallway opened. Harry's stomach did a backflip, thinking for a fleeting moment it was his godfather, but it was only Mrs. Weasley. He was still happy to see her though - and later on, her cooking.

"Oh Harry!" She gasped, walking down the hallway to bring him into a bone crushing hug. "You've grown so much since I last saw you - Merlin, you're so thin now!" She said, stepping back and looking him up and down with a look of concern on her. "You've lost so much weight, hasn't he? I can feel the bones sticking out of you."

"I haven't had much of an appetite since.." Harry let his voice trail away. Mrs. Weasley knew he meant Cedric. 

"Oh well of course, dear, but still, so thin in such little time, and you're so pale and peaky looking, and I can feel your ribs poking out of you - but I'll feed you up properly. You're here just in time as well, dinner is just about ready and the meeting just finished, they're just tiding up in there." She said, giving him one last hug before letting him go. Harry's injuries screamed in protest underneath all his clothes, and he felt a cut on his back open up, though he wasn't sure if it was bleeding or not. He just hoped it wouldn't bleed through his hoodies and his t-shirt. She turned towards the staircase and shouted up. "Everyone, dinner's ready in five minutes."

"In a minute, Mum!" Ron shouted down. Harry pratically jumped on the heels of his feet at just hearing Ron's voice. Remus smiled at his excitement as Tonks unshrunk Harry's trunk, taking his Firebolt and putting it near the staircase. "We're busy!"

"Now, Ron! Everyone, downstairs now! You'll love what we've got tonight." Mrs. Weasley winked at Harry and pulled him in direct view of the staircase so when everyone came downstairs, Harry would be the first person they'd see. He'd hoped they'd be happy to see him. 

A lot of banging and shouting upstairs ensued, but footsteps were slamming down the stairs until Ron turned on the staircase and froze, staring at Harry with a look of shock on his face, as if he hadn't expected to see him there. Then slowly, a big grin spread across his face at the sight of his best friend.

"Hi." Harry said, holding back tears of happiness as the sight of the first friend he'd ever made in the wizarding world. "I missed you."

"I missed you more." Ron said, and ran downstairs until he jumped off the last two stairs to hug Harry. Harry's ribs screamed in protest, but he hugged onto his bestfriend just as tightly. If anything, the hugs made him feel better, it reminded him that not all physical touch came from a place of anger and violence. "You got taller."

"So did you." Harry mumbled back, breaking the hug and wiping tears out of his eyes.

"Are you crying? Did you miss me that much?"

"No!" Harry said. "Hayfever from this stupid house - "

But he flinched when Hermione jumped and hugged him as soon as she came down the stairs as well. He hoped she hadn't noticed. Oh, but he was so glad to see her. She was his sister just like how Ron was his brother - if he was to have brothers and sister, Harry hoped they would have turned out like Ron and Hermione. They were his rocks, his best friends, the first taste of family he'd ever gotten.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione said excitedly. "I can't believe you're here - and a couple of days before your birthday as well! At least we get to spend it together this year. I can't wait, we have this whole thing planned out and all your presents are nearly here and it's just going to be wonderful!"

"I missed you too Hermione." Harry grinned as he broke the hug. "Merlin, I really missed you all." The rest of the Weasleys - Fred, George and Ginny - came down the stairs with big smiles on their faces.

"Sirius is going to die of happiness when he sees you." Ginny said with a grin on her face. "I swear, he hasn't shut up about you."

"Come on, we'll surprise him with Harry, he doesn't know Harry's arrived." Mrs. Weasley said, as they crept down the hallway past some old portraits that nobody seemed to want to look at, so Harry didn't either, and Mrs. Weasley walked them down a set of short stairs before stopping Harry and Remus outside the door. "Wait here you two, oh it'll be such a surprise!"

Everyone else went into the kitchen before Harry, who stood outside smelling Mrs. Weasley and if anything his growling stomach was going to give him away before anything else.

"Harry here yet?" Sirius. Harry nearly cried tears of joy. His second dad, just metres away from him. He could see Sirius stacking folders on top of one another, his back turned to the door. His hair was a bit shorter, and his clothes were clean and looked brand new - had he really been that excited for Harry to come and stay with him?

"Not quite yet." Mrs. Weasley said, beginning to set out plates. "I'd say give it another few minutes."

"I can't wait to see him." Sirius said. "I know you all must be sick of hearing it by now - but Merlin, he's my godson and I missed out on so much time with him. I'm not going to waste anymore time with him. I'm going to make the most of what little childhood he has left. He was pratically my son from the moment he was born - and I've loved him ever since. That love never went away, even when I was locked up. Harry was the one who kept me from going crazy all those years."

Remus cleared his throat and walked into the kitchen. Harry couldn't believe it - Sirius' love wasn't fake? It was real love, real love Harry hadn't seen or experienced since Halloween 1981. It wasn't of pity or duty to Harry's parents - it was real love, for Harry and Harry alone. 

Sirius said he was his son.

"I have a surprise." Remus annouced, then gently pulled Harry into the kitchen. Sirius turned around, then froze. Harry stood there as well for a moment, then he burst into tears when Sirius smiled at him, and opened his arms.

"Sirius!" He sobbed, finally letting his guard down, in front of so many strangers he didn't even recognise. Hermione started crying as well, and Mr. Weasley had a smile on his face on his face - Mr. Weasley was yet another dad to Harry. "Sirius - please, I missed you too - "

And then Sirius was hugging him, and he was crying too. Harry didn't care he was meant to be the Boy Who Lived, that he was meant to be strong - he was in the arms of the one adult he felt truly safe with. He didn't have to go back to the Dursleys' for the rest of the year, not until next June. He was finally safe - he'd get to spend his fifteenth birthday and Christmas with Sirius, they'd finally be a proper family at last. Sirius was rubbing his back, then running his hand through Harry's messy jet black hair, and Harry held onto Sirius as if he never wanted to let go of him.

"Harry." Sirius whispered. "Oh you've grown." He broke apart the hug, then held Harry's face in his face, stroking his thumb across his cheek, drinking in every detail of Harry. "How did you get that burn on your cheek? Does it hurt? Molly, do we any burn salve left - "

"Sirius, it's fine." Harry said. "It doesn't even hurt that bad. I just burned it when I turned the temperature of the shower too high - "

"And there's a cut on your forehead. Sit there now." Sirius insisted, pulling Harry gently to sit beside him near the fireplace, and Harry finally stopped shivering. "Warm up by the fire."

"Can he not sit beside me?" Ron said, beginning to stuff garlic bread into his mouth. "I haven't seen him in ages!"

"You'll be sharing a room with him, Ron, let him sit next to me." Sirius said. "Besides, you'll get him at Hogwarts all year."

"Yeah, but he snores." Ron said, scooping more spaghetti onto his plate. 

"I do not!" Harry protested. Ron snorted, and Mrs. Weasley gave him a glaring look as she put yet more food onto the table - spaghetti, shephard's pie, thick slices of homemade bread with butter, pasta carbonara, bowls of vegetables. She took a plate and piled it high with shepherd's pie, before putting it in front of Harry with a satisfied smile on her smile. "Only when I'm sick."

"Ohh!" Sirius laughed as he took a plate of pasta carbonara from Molly. "Thanks Molly. Remember, Remus? James never snored, but when he got so much as a sniffle any sort of sleep for us was over. Snored so loud the windows in the dorms shook."

"You did snore as a baby Harry." Remus smirked slightly into his own shepherd's pie.

"Did not!" Harry groaned loudly, and the whole table dissolved into laughter. Had they met him when he was a baby? Had they known him when the Potter family was still whole, and he was just a babbling baby only able to drink the milk from his mother? He had more questions than answers. 

"You did." Sirius laughed as he pointed his fork at Harry and spoke to the table at whole. "Even the night you were born, snored like a Niffler. James said you'd burst his eardrums if you kept on snoring that loudly."

"And what did he say Harry looked like again?" Remus snickered, barely able to keep his laughter back.

"He said Harry was the color of a tomato and looked like a wrinkled potato." Sirius barked with laughter. Mrs. Weasley nearly dropped her serving spoon she was laughing so much.

"I bet Lily wasn't pleased." She said, giggling as she served Mr. Weasley some spaghetti. "If Arthur had said that I wouldn't have let him near me."

"Oh you bet she wasn't pleased. A full day in labour as well. Two hours after giving birth she was nearly ready to hex James' backside off; you bet he was sorry." 

Mrs. Weasley winced as she finally sat down to her own dinner. "A full day? Poor Lily."

"I'm right here!" Harry said, pretending to look offended.

"Oh Harry dear, I meant no harm - "

"Oh he knows that Molly." Sirius said, and Harry nodded. "Did you ever hear about the day you were born?"

"No, Petunia never told me." Harry said, beginning to hoover up his food, Mrs. Weasley watching him with a smile on her face. "Were you there?"

"Oh you bet I was. I was with Lily that full day - James and Remus were out on an Order mission, can't remember what it was for now." Sirius said, twirling pasta around his fork. "But she screamed at me to quote unquote 'tell that Potter bastard to get his arse back here or I'll hex him back to Yorkshire'."

There was a roar of laughter, and Harry was drinking in every word Sirius was saying; his mother had been funny, she'd known how to speak her own mind and Lily Potter evidently did not take shit from anyone, not even her husband. 

"Why Yorkshire?" Harry asked. "Did Mum not like Yorkshire?"

"What are you on about?" Sirius frowned. "Your dad was from Yorkshire, Harry, all the Potters were."

"He was?" Harry said, a buzzing feeling of excitement in the bottom of his stomach; James Potter had been from Yorkshire. He imagined his father's name and birthplace on a form somewhere - James Potter, Yorkshire. "Was I born in Yorkshire? Am I from Yorkshire?"

"Yes, you were born there - in a little village called Godric's Hollow." Remus said, looking deeply disturbed. "Harry, how do you not know this? Do you even know where Lily was from?"

"Petunia always said they were from some posh town up north." Harry shrugged. Inside, he was celebrating - he and his dad were from Yorkshire, he'd been born in a little village called Godric's Hollow and he might have even grown up there. 

Sirius let out a sour laugh. "Well that's a stone cold lie, Harry. They're from the Midlands."

Harry snorted with laughter. "You're telling me my aunt who likes to pretend she came from a really posh family up north who made their money from quarries, came from the Midlands? You're joking me, Sirius."

"I'm not - is Petunia that bloody petty?" Sirius hissed under his breath, then he took a deep breath in an effort to try and calm himself down for Harry's sake. "Has she told you nothing? They were from Cokeworth, a real working class town. Everyone there worked in the factories - posh, my backside."

James Potter had been from Yorkshire and Lily Evans had been from Cokeworth. Harry had been born in Godric's Hollow. He already knew more about his family now then he ever did from Petunia in the ten years she raised him before Hogwarts. This was the best day ever, Harry decided, now he knew where his parents had come from.

"Did my grandparents work in the factories?"

"They were slightly luckier; your grandfather Alastair worked in a coal mine then he worked himself up to being a clerk for an insurance company and then Mary worked in a shoe shop." Remus said, looking like he had finally realised something. He looked at Mad Eye, and Mad Eye nodded, then shook his head. Remus cleared his throat.

"Oh." Harry said - even though Aunt Petunia had been his mother's sister, Harry had never known the names of his maternal grandparents who as far as he knew died some time after he had been born. Every time Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon prepared to tell Dudley stories about the Evans family, Harry had been banished from the room and into his cupboard, or to do chores. Harry had never seen the faces of either set of his grandparents before. "I get it now, thanks."

The room settled back into comfortable conversation, though people still often stole a quick glance at Harry, who kept on eating his dinner as if nothing was wrong. He was still reeling from the information, and thought it was the best early birthday present ever; James Potter had been born in Yorkshire to the Potter family and Lily Evans had been born in the Midlands, in Cokeworth no less, to Alastair and Mary Evans, who worked as an insurance clerk and in a shoe shop.

"Sirius?" Harry piped up as they were helping Mrs. Weasley clear the plates off the tables; she'd insisted they go and spend some time together but Harry had felt bad she was the only one left to clean up after everyone left the table to send letters or talk quietly in other rooms, so he'd stayed behind, and so had Sirius. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, anything Prongslet." Sirius smiled and ruffled Harry's hair yet again.

"Who were those people in the last letter you wrote me?"

"What people?" Sirius asked as he began to stack some more plates.

"Y'know, Effie, Monty, Charlus and I think Dora? Dorea? Whoever the hell they are." Sirius and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other - horrified, crushed, devastated. Harry looked between them, frowning. They looked like he had said if he was suicidal. Well, he was self harming so he wasn't far off it he supposed. "Why do you two look as if Michael Jackson just died? Now that would be devastating."

"Do you really not know who they were, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley said, still smiling, but her voice was slightly high pitched as if she was about to cry. Harry shook his head - why was she so upset on Harry's behalf, of all people. He just didn't get it at all.

"I really don't, sorry - did you go to Hogwarts with them Sirius? And who's that Henry Potter, the one who mentored Moody?"

Sirius put his face into his hands. Harry grew nervous, and his body began to lock up the same way like when Uncle Vernon was angry after he'd lost a deal at work, and he had one too many drinks, and he needed to take his anger out on his freaky nephew. He wondered if the self defensive moves he'd learned from the library at primary school would kick in immediately or -

But Sirius did not hit him like Harry expected him to, but hugged (hugged?) Harry and then kissed him on his forehead, and then looked into his eyes with so much love it made Harry want to cry again. 

"They're your family, Harry." He whispered. "They were the Potters."

"Did my dad have brothers and sisters?" Harry asked. "If he did, why'd I have to go and live with Petunia? She hates me."

"James was an only child." Mrs. Weasley said, as she began to wash the dishes by hand, her back to Harry so she could hide the tears in her eyes.

"Well that's disappointing." Harry said. "I used to dream of a long lost aunt or uncle to come and take me from my cu - from the Dursleys."

Sirius frowned at Harry's misuse of words, but didn't care to pay attention to it. He took Harry's hand in his, and began brushing his thumb over Harry's red, bruised knuckles. "Effie and Monty were your grandparents, Harry."

"My grandparents?" Harry said, wonder in his voice. Effie and Monty Potter. His dad's parents. They'd lived in Yorkshire where they raised his dad for seventeen years. "That's their names?"

"Nicknames, more like." Sirius said, smiling at Harry's wonder, because the last time he'd seen that sort of wonder on Harry's face was was the night of the Shrieking Shack, when Sirius had asked him to come and live with him. "Their actual names were Fleamont and Euphemia."

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, Alastair and Mary Evans. The Potters and the Evans. Harry's grandparents. His parents' parents. His family. 

"Where were they from?" 

"Monty - hated being called Fleamont by the way, so even if he's been dead for a while he'd probably still haunt me if I called him that too much - was, of course, from Yorkshire. Euphemia - and I'm going to guess you didn't know this either - was from Słonice."

"Where in England is that?" Harry asked, taking a biscuit from the plate Mrs. Weasley set on the table.

"It's not in England, dear." Mrs. Weasley said gently.

"Oh. Wales? Or Scotland? Was my grandmother Scottish?"

"No, Pup, she was Polish." Sirius sighed sadly, a longing look on his face. "Eastern Poland. She was born there in 1916."

Poland? His grandmother was Polish? Euphemia had been Polish? James had been half Polish? Harry himself was a quarter Polish? Had his father grown up eating food from his mother's country, and had he spoken any Polish? Had James tried to teach Harry Polish or sung him lullabies in Polish as he rocked him to sleep at night?

"I had no idea." Harry said, taking another biscuit - Mrs. Weasley paused washing the dishes to push the plate closer to him, murmuring to him to eat his fill. "Did Dad speak any Polish?"

"Oh yeah he did, he was fluent, probably spoke Polish better then English." Sirus sighed happily. "Sometimes he'd switch between the two - he'd be having a conversation in English then switch to Polish and I was the only person who had somewhat of an idea of what the hell he was on about."

"You speak Polish?" Harry said excitedly. Maybe Sirius could teach him, so Harry could speak his father's language and keep that piece of him close because it wasn't something Voldemort could take from him.

"Kind of?" Sirius shrugged as Mrs. Weasley handed them cups of tea. "Thanks Molly, you really didn't have to. But yeah, I kind of did. James taught me the basics when I lived with him because half the time he and Effie would just be babbling in Polish. I was more so better at reading, listening and understanding it then speaking it."

"Oh." Harry said, deflating. "I was hoping you could teach me. If I speak Polish it's the one part of Dad Voldemort can't take from me."

Sirius heard Mrs. Weasley muffle a sob.

"You have Hermione as your best friend, Prongslet." He said, then Harry visibly brightened up. "We both can."

"That's brilliant, Sirius - I'm Polish! All this time I thought I was this plain ol' English."

Sirius chuckled. "Wait until I tell you you're French too."

"Oh you've got to be joking." 

"I'm really not! Henry Potter - your great grandfather, so James' grandfather - was half French, his mother - Odette, I think -  was from Paris and moved here when she was young. Monty grew up speaking French and James did too, though he was never fully fluent." 

"So Dad spoke like three languages - English, Polish and French?"

"Russian as well, so four, though he wasn't fluent in that either but he spoke it a fair bit. A lot of Polish spoke Russian back in those days." 

English, Polish, French and Russian. James' last words could have been in the language his mother sung to him in. Lily could have died hearing Harry babble Polish words in his cot. Those were Harry's languages, and they had nearly gone to the grave with his parents.

"I miss my dad." Harry said, his shoulders beginning to shake, then he let it all out as he threw himself into Sirius' arms, who squeezed him tightly and rocked him back and forth. "And I miss my mum too. I want my mama. I miss them."

Mrs. Weasley went to lock herself in the pantry to cry, and Sirius couldn't blame her and sorely tempted to join her in crying for Harry, but for now he was solely focused on the small, crying boy who had his mother's eyes and his father's face.

"So we're not just going to ignore that, are we?" Mrs. Weasley demanded to the members of the Order once Harry had been sent upstairs for a shower before it was time for hot chocolate before bed. "Well? Are we going to ignore the blaringly obvious warning signs that something is wrong with Harry? There may as well be a big sticker on his back that says 'something is wrong with me'."

"Molly, we'd all be blind if we said something isn't wrong with Harry." Remus sighed, sitting down beside Sirius. "The warning signs are there, plain and simple. Sirius, didn't you have worries about what he's been writing in his letters?"

"Yeah." Sirius said, silently beating himself up that he didn't ask Harry about any of his concerns before he'd gone upstairs, but the selfish part of him hadn't wanted to ruin the wonderful moment between them. He took a few of Harry's letters out of his pocket and put them in front of him. "I'll read this bit out loud - 'They're all having dinner downstairs and they expect me to stay locked upstairs in my bedroom cause I'm apparently too 'freaky' to be around their business friends and Uncle Vernon said to me that if they spot me they might die of shock on the spot because apparently I'm too ugly to be seen by normal people'  and 'I miss you. I hate it here, and they hate me. I want to go home, but where is home for me?' How is that not concerning?"

"Is there any Firewhiskey left?" Mr. Weasley said, standing up and going to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, reaching for the top shelf. "I could do with a drink after hearing that."

"We all could." Remus said girmly. "Pass it 'round Arthur, we'll all be needing it."

The bottle was passed around the table and everyone's very generous share of Firewhiskey was poured, and soon all settled at the kitchen table.

"Did you see anything when you picked him up at the house, Remus?" Sturgis Podmore asked.

"What didn't I see?" Remus said, taking a swing of his drink. "Everything - everything was far too clean. It was very creepy. Sure, a person likes to keep a clean house but the house was like it was on display. Everything scrubbed until it shone. But we walked up the stairs and I went to knock on his bedroom door - he slammed the door open and pointed his wand and a baseball bat into my face."

"Perhaps he got a fright?" Emmeline Vance asked.

"No, Emmeline, his behaviour, his demanour - everything was off. He had at least four baseball bats in his room - what kind of teenager needs four baseball bats in his room? Even James only had maybe two Beater bats when we were in school, but he certainly didn't keep them in his bedroom." Remus said, taking yet another swing. "It - it was the look in his eyes. Fear almost - it was like he was expecting to be attacked."

"Well, after that whole deal in the graveyard, who could blame him?" Emmeline said.

"Do you not think something's wrong with him?" Sirius demanded. "Because there's clearly something wrong."

"Calm down Sirius." Remus said. "Did you lot not see it? The burn on his face, and that massive cut on his head - the size of that cut, from what he told us was from walking into a doorframe? Bullshit, no offense to Harry."

"And that burn on his face?" Tonks said. "Told Remus he could it from making a cup of tea. Worst excuse I've ever heard in my life."

"He didn't get the burn from making tea, Tonks, what are you on about?" Sirius said, chuckling. 

Tonks frowned. "He did - remember, Remus, Mad Eye? Told he got the burn from making tea and it just splashed on his face. I'm clumsy as hell and I don't think I'd manage to burn my face making tea."

"He told me it was from turning the temperature of the water in the shower too high." Sirius said quietly, a quiet feeling of dread filling his stomach. He didn't want to imagine it was true. The possibablity that Harry was abused by his only living blood relatives - his mother's sister. James and Lily's boy, having to live in fear for so many years. How could he have gone after Peter so recklessly fourteen years ago when there was an orphan who needed him? He could have saved Harry from so much pain for so long.

The kitchen fell into silence. No one spoke for a solid minute.

"You don't think.." Mr. Weasley's voice trailed off. "The Dursleys hit him? Surely not that's - that's abuse, that's the worst thing a person could possibly do - hurting a child, especially someone as sweet and kind as Harry."

"Surely Professor McGonagall must have noticed something!" Dedalus Diggle said, staring into his drink. "She's only been his Head of House for four years, now going on five. And what about Madam Pomfrey?"

"Pity they're not here tonight; we'll have to ask the next time they come in."

"Heart of gold, that boy. Every year I knit him a jumper for Christmas and every year I get sent a thank you letter a mile long." Mrs. Weasley said, conjuring up a box of tissues with a flick of her wand and loudly blowing her nose. "In all the years I've spent raising Fred and George and the amount of times they've destroyed their bedroom and my sanity, we've never once laid a hand on them." 

"It's just wrong." Remus said. Then his face went white, and he buried his face in his hands. "Oh no. Oh Merlin."

"What?" Mrs. Weasley pratically shrieked. "What happened Remus?"

"There was a cat flap in the door - Harry's bedroom door." Remus said, his voice shaking as he drank the rest of his whiskey in one massive gulp. "He said they had a cat who scartched at the door every night so they installed the cat flap door so the cat could go in and out - but there was no marks on the door, and no signs of a cat in the house. Besides - and I remembered this during dinner because it's been so many years, but didn't say anything then - why would there be a cat?"

"Because they're clean freaks?" Tonks suggested weakly, though she sounded like she didn't believe the excuse herself. 

"No!" Remus said, sounding almost hysterical. "Petunia's allergic to cats! Lily told me this when we were in our seventh year and I completely forgot about it until now. And it's not the kind of allergy where you sneeze a lot and learn to live with it - no, Lily told me it was deathly allergic as if Petunia went within an inch of a cat she'd be in anaphylactic shock withing ten seconds."

"So basically the Muggles probably beat the ever living shit out of Harry and none of us noticed until now?" Bill said sourly. "Great. Some surrogate family we've been for him."

"Oh Bill, don't say that!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed. 

"Well he's not got anyone else!" Bill shouted. "Look at him - he's got Sirius because Sirius is his godfather and they're related through Dorea and then Remus, yeah, but he is the last living Potter in Britain. Now that the Muggles are beating him, who else will Dumbledore send him to?"

"Maybe Dumbledore shouldn't be in charge of that anymore since it didn't go so well the first time." Charlie said.

Bill snapped his fingers. "Yes! Thank you, Charlie! I knew you were smart the second you were born."

"You could barely walk when Charlie was born." Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow, and everyone laughed weakly. Mrs. Weasley checked on the hot chocolate bubbling on the stove, staring across the room.

"Has he really not got any more family left?" Hestia Jones asked.

"No." Mad Eye said gruffily, and even he looked more disturbed then anyone had seen him before. "Not that we know of. Fleamont and Euphemia died of dragon pox - Fleamont caught it first, and he was always sickly, and Euphemia refused to leave his side so really it was only a matter of time before she caught it. Euphemia died two weeks before he was born and Fleamont died a day after Harry was born." 

"And what happened to Lily's parents?" Hestia asked. "And the rest of the Potters and the Evans?"

"Lily's parents died a week after James and Lily were married." Mad Eye said. "Charlus, Dorea and their boy William got murdered by Voldemort - that bastard didn't even give William a chance to run. Arabella died shortly afterwards, Henry two weeks after Harry was born, and as far as we're aware there's no more Evans besides Petunia."

"We'll take him." Mrs. Weasley blurted out, then looked at Sirius with this pleading sort of hope in her eyes that begged for his aproval. "If Sirius gives us his blessing."

"Molly, Arthur." Sirius said, and Mrs. Weasley held her breath in anntipcation. "You've been looking after Harry since he was eleven years old. I'd trust no one else."

"Oh thank you!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed. "We'll look after him, don't worry - we may not have much but we'll make room for him, we always will - "

"He's like our eighth child anyways." Mr. Weasley said, standing up to comfort his wife. "Ever since that August morning when I walked into my kitchen and seen him sitting at our table with Molly putting piles of eggs and bacon in front of him, I knew he was ours."

"He's too skinny!" Mrs. Weasley said as she began pouring hot chocolate into mugs with the Black family crest on. "He needs some meat on his bones."

"Agreed." Sirius said. "I thought I could feel his ribs when we hugged."

"I could as well!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "And he's got so many hoodies and jumpers on."

"He could be trying to hide bruises and injuries, trying to hide the truth from us." Mad Eye said, and everyone turned to him. "What? In all my years of being an Auror, I've learned the abusers and the abused are the best damn liars you'll ever meet."

"But why would he not just tell someone?" Hestia asked.

"Because, Jones, many people who are abused are slowly conditioned to believe that they deserve the abuse they suffer - that they've done something wrong and that's why they're being punished. For Harry, and we don't know this for sure, it may be because he's a wizard." Mad Eye said, pouring himself another drink. "In their sick and twisted minds they think beating him is the best way to get the magic out of him. Harry's lucky he didn't turn out to be an Obscurial - remember, they're created through physical and pyschological abuse. And we know from his letters they call him freaky."

"We'll have to tell Dumbledore and McGonagall." Tonks said sadly. "Thank Merlin Mrs. Figg kept inviting him around to tea or he might have straved to death. We'll have to ask if she noticed something off."

The sound of loud, bickering teenagers echoed around the house, and footsteps began thundering down the stairs.

"Try not look so miserable!" Mrs. Weasley fretted. "Oh, none of them can know yet! We still need to talk to Harry about this, and not to mention Dumbledore and McGonagall - "

"And we will." Sirius said, standing up to hide the Firewhiskey bottle in the cupboard. "We will talk to him, Molly, and we'll make sure he's safe."

"Is the hot chocolate ready yet Mum?" Ron shouted, as something crashed in the hallway. "Fuck, Harry! George you fucking - "

"Harry!" Everyone heard Hermione scream loudly, and Harry let out a strangled cry.

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley jumped and bolted out to the hallway only to find Harry lying on the hallway floor, and Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny surrounded him.

"It was an accident!" Harry blurted out before anyone else could get a word in. "It was my fault anyways - "

"Mum, Sirius, I'm actually going to take the blame for once and confirm it was my fault." George said sheepishly. "I don't know why Hazza here is taking the blame but I apperaciate it."

"Oh Harry - George you are in a world of trouble later - " Mrs. Weasley fretted as she and Sirius helped Harry up. "Harry, get into the kitchen and sit down, Sirius check if he's hurt?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, I only fell a couple of steps." Harry said.

"It was more like ten." Ginny pipped up, looking like she was trying not to laugh at Harry's expense. 

"Shut up." Harry laughed, then winced. 

"See!" Mrs. Weasley said. "You are hurt. Take off that hoodie so we can see  - "

"No!" Harry pratically shrieked. Mrs. Weasley froze, and so did Sirius and they exchanged a quick look - how bad could it be if Harry wouldn't even take off his hoodie? "I'm fine, really."

"Harry, you can put it back on - " Sirius tried to say, raising his hand to tug at Harry's sleeve, but Harry flinched so hard his neck cracked. Sirius' heart fell into his stomach - did Harry think he was going to hit him? "Okay, fine. You don't have to. It's okay."

"I just don't want to take it off." Harry mumbled quietly, staring down at a pair of Chudley Cannon socks clearly borrowed from Ron. Other then that, he was sporting a brand new black hoodie where the sleeves hung past his hands and the bottom hung nearly to his knee of his blue plaid pyjama bottoms, messy black hair spiky and sticking up all over the place - Sirius had fallen in love with his godson all over again - even if he was near fifteen he was just as cute as the day he was born. "Am I in trouble now?"

"No, no Harry." Sirius said gently, sitting himself and Harry down on the bottom step as Mrs. Weasley herded everyone else into the kitchen. "It's okay. You're not in trouble. You'll never be in trouble for not doing something you don't want to do."

"It's that way back at the Dursleys." Harry mumbled, leaning into Sirius' side. Sirius hugged him again, and Harry was warm and cozy. "Everytime I say no, they - they - "

"What do they do?" Sirius asked gently, hoping to pry an answer out of Harry.

"Nothing." Harry mumbled. "Nothing. They do nothing."

"Harry, please, you can trust me." Sirius tried to smile reassuringly at Harry, but he didn't know if Harry would be able to trust anyone after what he'd been through.

"I just feel so angry all the time." Harry sobbed, and he curled into a ball in Sirius' arms right on the bottom stair in the hallway of his childhood home. "And what if after everything I've been through, what if something went wrong inside me, what if I'm gone crazy and I'm going to be bad?"

"Harry, please." Sirius whispered, pushing the hair out of Harry's face. "You're not a bad person - you're the bravest, sweetest boy I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Nothing's gone wrong inside you that can't be helped without talking to someone, alright? You're my godson and I won't have you feeling like this, hear me?"

"And I'm just so tired!" Harry sobbed, rubbing his eyes hard and looking around the place frantically. "And I can't sleep because I keep waking up in the middle of the night, and then I can never go back to sleep, and I think I'm going crazy - "

"You're not going crazy Harry." Sirius whispered, wishing now more then ever then James and Lily were here with him to hold their son. "You're not. You're just very, very tired. I'll bring you up to bed now, how about that, and I'll stay with you until you fall asleep?"

Harry nodded while rubbing his nose off his sleeve. "But my hot chocolate - "

"Ron will bring it up for you; and even if you don't end up drinking it Molly won't mind." Sirius said, and in one go he stood up and bent down, picking Harry up in his arms - he was light as a feather, barely weighing what a fifteen year old boy should. Sirius could feel all Harry's bones, sharp and sore, poking out of him. His face was white as milk as if he hadn't seen sunlight in quite a few days, and Sirius could spot sunburns healing. Now his face was gaining some sort of colour back thanks to Mrs. Weasley piling food onto his plate.

Harry squirmed as Sirius started walking upstairs, but didn't ask to be put down. Instead, he cuddled into Sirius, wrapping his arms around his neck and just relaxing. 

"You don't have to carry me." Harry mumbled, though he made no effort to get down. "I'm fine."

"You're not; you just bawled your eyes out on the staircase of my childhood home." Sirius said, making an effort to speak low, calmly and gently. 

"This is your childhood home?" 

"Yes." Sirius replied as he walked into the room Harry and Ron were sharing. Already he could see the signs of Ron settling in; a few poster hung up on the walls, clothes and comics scattered everywhere, his trunk in the middle of the floor with the contents spewing out of it. His four poster bed was messy and undressed, and Sirius took pleasure in the fact his parents would have dropped dead if they heard a Weasley and a Potter were sleeping in this room. Harry's trunk was pushed against the far wall, and the only signs that he was sleeping in here was a towel and the two hoodies he was wearing when he arrived in the laundry basket beside his bed, and his Firebolt propped against the wall. "I grew up here; this was my parents' house."

"Did you get along with them?" Harry yawned as Sirius put him down on his bed. Harry curled into a little ball, and looked at Sirius with big green eyes. "Did you have brothers or sisters?"

"I hated the lot of them." Sirius chuckled dark, as he leaned against the four poster of Harry's bed. "My parents were pureblood maniacs, and my brother Regulus was no better. When he was sixteen he joined the Death Eaters and our whole family thought he was a right little hero."

"Were your parents Death Eaters?"

"No, but they weren't far off it. They supported him financially from behind the scenes like a lot of people did during the first war." Sirius said, tucking Harry into bed like he should have been during Harry's childhood. He put extra pillows around him, and piled extra blankets on top of him. "They tried to make me join when I was sixteen, and Regulus fifteen. During Christmas breaks, of all times. They wanted me to spy on James and the rest of the Potters, especially Charlus and Dorea."

"Who are Charlus and Dorea again?" Harry yawned. Sirius felt like a knife had been plunged into his heart - knowing Harry had been abused, and seeing him cry like that, it was far worse then whatever the Dementors and Azkaban could inflict upon him. 

"Charlus was Fleamont's younger brother by about eleven years." Sirius replied. "Dorea was his wife - she was a Black, y'know, before she married into the Potters."

"We're related?" The hope in Harry's voice. The hope of having one relative that didn't beat the magic out of him.

"Distantly, yes. Cousins many times removed." Sirius said, his heart melting on seeing Harry's sleepy little smile. "Me and James, believe or not, had no idea. Dorea got blasted off the family tree when she ran off during her seventh year and married Charlus. The Potters were far too Muggle loving for my family."

"Did they have kids?"

"There was William." Sirius answered, and wondered how he was meant to tell Harry how they died. "He was brilliant, we all loved him at Hogwarts. He was so increbily funny. Biggest troublemaker besides me and James but he got away with way more then we did, I'd say."

"They all died as well?" Harry asked sadly, and Sirius had to swallow a lump in his throat as he nodded.

"We were seventeen when Charlus, Dorea and William were killed by Voldemort himself." Sirius said. "We were taking the written part of our Charms NEWT - I remember it now, it was so hot, we were all sweating in our seats. Then ten minutes before the end of the exam, McGonagall and Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall, and McGonagall told me to go with her, and James went with Dumbledore. Then.." His voice trailed away for a second. "She told me what happened, that Charlus, Dorea and William had died the night before. I remember her bringing me to Dumbledore's office. We could hear James screaming from down the corridor."

"How old were they?" Harry whispered, wiping tears away from the corners of his eyes. 

"Charlus and Dorea were forty eight and then William was fourteen."

"Fourteen?!" Harry said, his voice cracking. "I'm fourteen now - I was fourteen when I fought Voldemort in the graveyard."

"You were." Sirius whispered, reaching out to cup Harry's face in his hands. "You really were. And I'll say this now - they would have loved you. We all love you in ways words will never be able to properly explain. The Order used to pass you around the table during meetings in the first war, and kept saying they wanted to eat your chubby little cheeks."

"Was I cute?"

"Oh, you were adorable. The night you were born - I was with Lily the full day she was in labour because James and Remus were out on some mission. Marlene McKinnon was with us as well, and we didn't leave her side. We kept sending message after message to get back to Godric's Hollow and he got back about six hours before you were born."

"I'm sorry I hurt Mum for a full day." Harry mumbled, biting his nails. Sirius noticed his knuckles were bruised, his hands worn down with hard labour. Sirius gently took Harry's hand out of his mouth. "She must have hated me for it."

"Oh no, Harry, no she didn't." Sirius said, really trying to sound positive and happy so Harry wouldn't go to sleep feeling miserable. "No, I was talking to your mum through every minute of it and she said you were worth every second of pain. Lily said she loved you from the moment she found out you existed."

"And did Dad?" 

"Of course he did. I remember he burst into my flat and screamed at the top of his lungs that he was going to be a dad - we were just about nineteen. He wouldn't stop talking how much he loved you." Sirius said, and a part of him relaxed when he noticed Harry's eyes getting heavier. "They loved you so much, Harry, every Potter did."

"And what else happened the day I was born?" 

"James came back from his mission - came straight home as soon as he found out you were going to be born. He was so happy, his joy infected us all. Marlene was a trained Healer, and then I got kicked out of the room while you were, um, being born?"

Harry let out a sleepy laugh.

"And it was another hour or so, and I didn't want to leave until I met you, but then close to midnight, Marlene walked out of the room, and then I heard you crying. Then I heard James start to bawl like a baby as well." Sirius said, holding Harry's hand in his own. "And Marlene told me to go and meet my godson. I walked into the room, and James stood there crying while he kissed your mother and thanked her a thousand times for giving him his baby, and Lily couldn't stop saying how much she loved you. And you know what I saw?"

"What did you see?"

"I saw this little bundle in Lily's arms - wrapped in a blue knitted blanket, and a hair of black curls, and this little bundle was screaming at the top his lungs." Sirius went to continue, but Harry gasped.

"My baby blanket!"

"Yeah, do you still have it?"

"It's in my trunk - get it please!" Harry pleaded, and Sirius jumped and retrieved the blue blanket that Euphemia and Lily had spent months knitting together, then just Lily when Euphemia got too sick. Harry pratically snatched the blanket and held it to his chest, breathing in the scent of lavender. "Thanks."

"You wrapped in that when I walked into the room." Sirius said. "It was the best day of my life, Harry, meeting you. Then James took you off Lily, and put you into my arms. And then there you were, all four pounds and nine ounces of James' messy black hair and Lily's almond green eyes."

"I was small." Harry said, face barely visble. 

"You were tiny, Harry. And then James told me your name - Harry James Potter. And I fell in love all over again, because how couldn't I? It was just so you. You were named after James' grandfather and James himself, obviously - the eldest son in the family gets his father's name."

"Henry Potter?" Harry asked. "That's who I'm named after? Don't tell me my real name is Henry."

"No, no, it's not. No, Henry had always been called Harry since he was young. Nobody as far as I remember called him Henry. Henry was Harry and then Arabella was Bella. Like how Fleamont was Monty, Euphemia was Effie, Charlus was Charlie, Dorea was Rea and William was Will." Sirius said. "James was Jamie and Lily was Lil. You were Hazz."

"They called me Hazz?" 

"They did, and never forget, Harry, that they all would have loved you just the way you are now." And that wasn't a lie. Because before she got too sick to get out of bed, Euphemia had stayed up for hours at a time knitting countless hats, socks and baby grows for her grandson, and the beloved baby blanket with Lily, before dragon pox made her too weak to even sit up in bed. Fleamont had sewed a teddy bear for Harry and carved toys from wood. Henry had written stories about dragons and fairies for him.

"No strings attached?"

"None at all, Prongslet."

"He's asleep now." Sirius announced to the kitchen at large when he walked downstairs - truth to be told, he'd sat there for another twenty minutes, holding Harry in his arms and staring at his peaceful, sleeping face, listening to every sleepy sigh and snore. Mrs. Weasley looked relieved as she poured yet more tea into everyone's teacups. He looked to talk to Remus but was surprised to see Dumbledore and McGonagall there, and unpleasently surprised by Snape standing there with a sour look on his face. Sirius chose to ignore him. "Minnie; I've missed you."

"Ten points from Gryffindor." McGonagall said, smirking. Everyone in the room laughed except Snape, who looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else but standing in Sirius' kitchen. "You haven't changed."

"Ah, Minnie, you're no fun." Remus teased, taking a gulp of tea. McGonagall glared at him.

"Detention, Lupin, I don't care you graduated in '78." McGonagall sighed. "So, we were called here quite in the day - night, more so. I assume it's urgent?"

"It's Harry." Sirius said, and before he could get another word in Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Snape, I will have you kicked out if you say one word against my godson. Remember now he's Lily's son as well."

Snape went back to sulking in his corner. Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I understand there is concerns you have about Harry?"

"Several concerns!" Mrs. Weasley shouted loudly without any warning, to everyone's shock, and she slammed her palm down on the table. Even Dumbledore looked disturbed as the normally very composed Weasley matriarch became to voice her fury. "How dare you leave him with those Muggles? Did you ever check in on him to make sure he was okay, and being treated well? Well, did you?"

"Molly, please, Petunia is Lily's only sister, why wouldn't she treat her sister's son like her own - "

"Well she sure as hell didn't!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. Sirius didn't stop her; Dumbledore needed to hear this. "Didn't even know where his father was from, didn't know where Lily was from, didn't know his father was half Polish or that he spoke four languages, didn't know the names of his grandparents - "

She snatched Harry's letter off the kitchen table. "'They're all having dinner downstairs and they expect me to stay locked upstairs in my bedroom cause I'm apparently too 'freaky' to be around their business friends and Uncle Vernon said to me that if they spot me they might die of shock on the spot because apparently I'm too ugly to be seen by normal people'  and 'I miss you. I hate it here, and they hate me. I want to go home, but where is home for me?' How could you leave him with those people?"

"Surely, Petunia wouldn't - " Dumbledore tried to say, but Mrs. Weasley pointed a finger in his face, her face red and wearing a face of fury that Sirius hadn't seen since he refused to join the Death Eaters. 

"Don't. You. Dare!" She snapped. "Now, you will sit and listen, and one thing is for sure Harry is never going back to those rotten Muggles."

"But the blood protection, Molly." Dumbledore tried to sound firm, but even his voice wavered. "Lily sacrified herself, Harry is safe as long as he is with his closest living blood relatives, as long as he calls the Dursleys home."

"I will die for him!" Mrs. Weasley shouted back. "He's been my son since Ron and the twins broke him out of that house - they put bars on his bedroom window, do you realise that? I thought they were just paranoid Muggles, but Remus told us all tonight that they put a catflap on his bedroom door - when that supposed aunt is allergic to cats. They clearly wanted to stop him from escaping! I will take him in and I will make sure Lily and James's sacrifise doesn't go to waste - don't forget James died for him as well!"

"Molly - "

"I will die for him like James and Lily died! If needs be I will be the second mother to die for him, and then I will be protect him in death like James and Lily do." Mrs. Weasley shouted, and her teacup shattered in her hands because she was so furious. Sirius would forever be thankful that Mrs. Weasley was able to love and care for Harry when he wasn't able to. "Even Mrs. Figg noticed before you, and you're meant to be the smartest man on earth. She said so many times that Harry was pale and weak, and looked like he was about to collaspe at any moment, so I told her don't stop inviting him around for tea and keep feeding him, and giving him little snacks whenever she meets him in the street. I hugged him when he arrived at Grimmauld and his ribs cracked. I could feel every rib through two hoodies. He ate like an animal but I didn't say a word and I only gave him more food."

"What Molly is trying to say." Mr. Weasley said, clearly shocked at his wife's outburst. "Is that if you saw Harry for yourselves the concerns are plain and clear. He's clearly sleep deprived as well, I saw him crying his eyes out on the staircase in Sirius' arms because of how tired he is."

"Minnie, have you noticed something?" Tonks asked. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps." She said. "It may be something - every time Mr. Potter returns to Hogwarts after summer break, he always looks very skinny. I know both his parents were thin as well, but this borders on unhealthy with their son. And to quote Molly - he eats like an animal. He takes food away from the table and hides it in napkins, or his pockets. We encourage students not to do this because it leads to more mess for the house elves, but - well, truth to be told I always let Mr. Potter get away with small things because although I'm not meant to have favourites, he's one of mine. And then during the school year he eats normally, but towards the end of the year he starts eating like the food's going to disappear, and stealing even more food."

"Perhaps Potter should learn to mind his table manners and not steal from the table like a rat." Snape said in a drawling tone.

"I'm already convicted for twelve murders, Snape, don't make it be thirteen."

"Sirius." Remus said warningly, trying to hide a smile behind his hand. "Please, we're talking about Harry."

"I'm just saying." Sirius said, glaring at Snape. He turned to look at Dumbledore again. "He's doing a ridculous amount of chores as well - "

"Merlin forbid the brat lift a finger." Snape drawled again.

"Azkaban seems very nice compared to having to listen to you." Sirius snapped. "Merlin help your poor parents. Anyways, Dumbledore, before Snape becomes my thirteenth murder, the last letter Harry sent me concerned us all. In one day Harry had to 'mowed the front and back lawns, painted the shed and the fences in the front and back garden, pulled all the weeds out of Aunt Petunia's flowerbeds, cooked them breakfast, washed the windows, organised the shed, cleaned the inside and outside of the three cars - Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's cars, because apparently Uncle Vernon needs two cars but won't give me more then one slice of toast for breakfast - did three loads of laundry and put them all out on the washing line, cut the hedges and bushes, watered the grass and I had to stand on a ladder for an hour cleaning out the gutters' And the uncle refusing to give Harry more then a single slice of toast for breakfast? At that age James and Lily would have eaten a full loaf of bread and still have room for more; it's not enough for a fourteen, near fifteen year old."

"And this was three days ago?" Sturgis asked.

"Yeah, why?" 

"There was a heatwave, remember?" Sturgis said, slurping his tea and smacking his lips. "Do you lot not remember? I was boiling even inside this house. It must have been thirty degrees. If Harry was stood on a ladder for an hour cleaning out the gutters he would have been roasted alive; I'll eat my hat if somehow he managed not to faint or get very sick. Must have had a wicked headache as well."

"He has asked me on several occasions to not return to the Dursleys' household and to stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays." Dumbledore said quietly, looking deeply ashamed of himself. "And he has said a few times his relatives dislike him."

"And you didn't think something was wrong?!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

"I didn't think it would amount to this type of abuse and neglect."

"I told you!" Professor McGonagall shrieked, turning to Dumbledore, her Scottish accent thick in her fury. "I watched those Muggles for a day before you gave that precious boy to them and I told you they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable, and you STILL left him there anyways! And look what's happened - he's been straved for nearly fourteen bloody years!"

"He might have been beaten by his aunt and uncle as well." Bill said, looking impressed at Professor McGonagall's fury. "We don't know if his cousin hits him though."

"Beaten?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked. "See, now look what you've done Albus - he's been beaten by the two people you thought would protect him! Blood protection isn't worth shit if Harry can be hurt by those Muggles, and Lily wouldn't place a blood protection on her son if it wasn't going to protect him from everyone, not just Voldemort! James and Lily are turning in their graves!"

"Is there physical evidence that Harry has been struck by his aunt and uncle?" Dumbledore asked. "Do we really know this is true?"

"Professor." Bill laughed. "My mum and Professor McGonagall are already pissed off at you enough. If you say anything else it'll only be a matter of time before they race to hex you."

"He's not wrong." Mrs. Weasley said darkly, gripping her wand.

"He has different stories about how he recieved a burn on his face." Remus said. "When me, Tonks and Mad Eye went to collect him at the Dursleys earlier this evening, he said he got the burn by making tea. Then he told Sirius that he got the burn from turning the temperature of the water in the shower too high."

"Which is bullshit." Tonks said. "How do you even burn your face making tea? And he ate like he'd never seen food before. He ate like five Wagon Wheels - "

"What are those?" Mr. Weasley asked, then looked like he regretted asking immediately.

"They're like biscuits." Tonks replied. "I'll buy you some. Anyways, five Wagon Wheels, six breakfast bars and a packer of Monster Munch, which are like crisps Arthur. Even when we were preparing to Apparate to Grimmauld he was licking the crumbs off his fingers. And he said they'd get angry at him for eating 'their' food? Who gets angry at a child for eating food in their own house? Like, I would if they asked him not to touch a posh box of chocolates because they were saving them for guests or something, but all the food completely off limits? Even if I was grounded for life my mum and dad wouldn't do that to me."

"And another thing." Mad Eye said, his magical eye whirling around more then ever. "Not a single picture of Harry in the house. Living there fourteen years and I couldn't even find a school picture of him. Yet there was what seemed like dozens of the Dursleys' boy around. And he had an awful lot of baseball bats in his bedroom."

"Baseball bats?" Dumbledore said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Yes." Mad Eye said gruffily. "He obviously fears something - or someone - is going to hurt him. I've seen it far too many times. And he didn't know the names of his own grandparents - he thought Fleamont and Euphemia were people Sirius went to school with."

"Please Alastor tell me he knew who Lily's parents were." Professor McGonagall pleaded. But Mad Eye just shook his head. She turned to Dumbledore, no longer visibly angry. "You have no idea how much I despise you right now. You can explain to Mr. Potter - no, Harry, that's his name, that you were the one that subjected him to a lifetime of agony."

"Minerva - "

"You could have picked anyone. And you send him back there after he saw Cedric die without support from the wizarding world." McGonagall said, struggling to hold back the tears in her eyes. "You went to Hogwarts with his great grandparents, you taught his grandfather and you were Headmaster when his parents went to Hogwarts. Imagine what they would say to you - and they wouldn't care about any blood protection."

"He must be depressed as hell." Charlie said. "You don't go through hell and not come out the other side with some sort of damage - I'd know that with my dragons." He lifted his left arm which was covered in healed burns.

"And it runs in the Potters." Sirius said, putting his head in his hands, trying desperately not to cry. Harry - his Harry, James and Lily's Harry. His godson - no, his son. How could Petunia inflict that sort of damage on her sister's one and only son? "James struggled with it, I know, and Fleamont did as well - had PTSD as well."

"We must talk to Harry." Dumbledore said gravely. "Perhaps tonight - "

"Absolutely not." Sirius said firmly. "He was crying out of pure exhaustion earlier and it took me telling so many stories about his own family to him for him to be able to finally sleep. You are not waking him tonight."

"Sirius - "

"You're not his godfather." Mrs. Weasley snapped, sparks flying from the end of her wand. "I think me, Arthur and Sirius know what's best for him."

Sirius smiled at her - he was so thankful to her for being there for Harry when he couldn't be. 

"Last time I checked, Weasley, you're not his mother - she's buried in Yorkshire." Snape drawled, a smirk on his face.

Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to reply before Sirius interrupted. 

"She's as good as his mother." Sirius said firecely. "Molly's his mother in every way but blood. Merlin knows how many meals she's fed him or how many times she's done his washing. Lily and James are in the afterlife thanking Merlin himself and shaking for sending Molly to look after him."

Sirius would have kept on talking, but he was interrupted by a huge, crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley which knocked the wind out of him. He hugged her back, not quite sure what to say or do.

"We will wait until tomorrow to talk to Harry." Dumbledore said as Sirius and Mrs. Weasley pulled apart, wiping their eyes. "I suggest some trusted adults be there to talk to him. What people do you think should be present?" He asked the room at large.

"Sirius." The room chorused immediately.

"Of course, Sirius." Dumbledore said. "Then, I was thinking Professor McGonagall, seeing as she's his Head of House, then perhaps Molly and Arthur, then myself."

"Seems good to me." Sirius said, and in the back of his mind, he was wondering what kind of dreams Harry was having at this very moment just above his head, wrapped in the blanket his dying grandmother and pregnant mother had knitted with devotion and love.

"Is Harry awake yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked Ron the next morning, as the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus were sitting down to breakfast. "Breakfast is ready now, and I want to make sure he's fed up good and proper."

"He's getting changed." Ron said as he piled scrambled eggs onto his plate. "He kicked me out of the room while I was tying my shoelaces."

"He probably didn't want you to see him naked." Sirius said, looking out the kitchen door for Harry - no sign of him yet. He and Mrs. Weasley had been pacing the kitchen for nearly an hour now. Nobody had been able to sleep properly last night.

Ron scoffed. "Do you know how many times I've seen him stark naked before? He's seen me bare arsed as well. We've shared a dorm for the past four years. He always gets a bit weird like this sometimes."

"Does he?" Mrs. Weasley asked, exchanging a worried glance with Sirius. "How so?"

"He kicks us all out of the dorm or into the bathroom when he's getting changed at school - and whenever he's at our place as well - and I thought it was a bit weird and I said it to Hermione, and she thinks he could have, I don't know, acne or something on his back and be really insecure about it?" Ron shrugged. "We figured that might be it."

"Well, thanks for telling us." Mrs. Weasley asked. 

"Ron." Sirius asked as Hermione walked into the kitchen with an Ancient Runes textbook in her hands. "Hermione, yes, you too - close that door, we don't want anyone listening in."

"Is something wrong with Harry?" Ron asked, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter. Hermione looked at Sirius and Mrs. Weasley with wide eyes as she sat beside Ron, her book hitting the table with a thump. 

"Oh God, what happened now?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a quick glance and although they didn't speak, their looks exchanged a thousand word; they deserved to know the truth.

"What do you know about Harry and the Dursleys?" Sirius asked, as he and Mrs. Weasley sat opposite Ron and Hermione. "Say, how they get on with each other, or has Harry mentioned anything concerning to you two?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, faces full of guilt.

"We won't be mad." Mrs. Weasley prompted them gently. "It's just we've noticed some concerning things, and we all want to make sure Harry's safe."

"Maybe." Hermione said, looking down at her feet. "We've noticed a few things over the years, but he always dimisses me when I ask what's going on."

"Same here." Ron butted in. "I asked him about when he was younger, and he got all weird saying they thought he was a freak and Dudley and his friends beat him up all the time and always broke his glasses, but when I pressed him he yelled at me and told me it was none of my business."

"Oh sweet Merlin." Sirius buried his face into his hands. No one in that household had been on Harry's side - he really had been all alone until the age of eleven. Did he even have any childhood friends?

"Do you remember what they sent him for Christmas when we were in first and second year?" Ron said, and Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "They sent him a fifty pence piece when we were in first and in second year they didn't send anything."

"No they did. They sent a very nasty note telling him not to bother coming home for the holidays." Hermione said quietly. Ron wore a look of guilt upon his face, and both Sirius and Mrs. Weasley could tell Hermione felt as equally as guilty. "Sometimes it's not specific things he mentions, it's the way - the way he acts when he mentions them, which is never."

"How does he act?" Mrs. Weasley said encouraginly. "Scared? Angry? Upset? Was he ever worried about going home to him?"

"All of that, yeah." Ron said. "With his cousin, he just says they didn't get on when they were kids and they fought all the time, and obvisouly Dudley and his friends beat him up as kids and they always broke his glasses, and his aunt and uncle never took him to get new ones. And he asked Seamus to teach him how to box and do karate before we went home for the summer when we were in first year."

"And when we in third year, when Lupin was teaching us about Boggarts, everyone was going around asking each other what their Boggarts would be, and Dean asked Harry and then Harry said 'my aunt and uncle when they're in a bad mood' and Dean just laughed it off." Hermione said, the words pouring out of her. "And he always sneaks food into his bag, his shoes are always ripped and holey, his clothes hang off him and I shrink them bit by bit so he'll actually be able to fit in them. And whenever Malfoy so much as even threatens to come near me and Ron, Harry jumps in front of us and pulls out his wand and shoves it in Malfoy's face - "

"Hermione, take a breather." Sirius said, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"And he said our house was the most brilliant house he's ever been in, and that he was shocked everybody there actually liked him." Ron said, looking down at the stone floor as if he wanted to sink into it. "And they never send him letters, meanwhile me and Hermione get like twenty letters a week combined. And when Mum sent him his first Weasley Christmas jumper Harry wore it for four days straight until McGonagall made him take it off and he said it was one of the first Christmas presents he'd ever gotten."

He was shocked everybody there actually liked him. Sirius thought Azkaban would be better then whatever feeling that was curdling inside his stomach, ready to swallow him whole. And jumping in front of Ron and Hermione when Malfoy threatens them, was he defending them because he was afraid they'd suffer the same pain he did all those years? 

"And his grandparents." Ron said. Sirius raised an eyebrow. "We were doing some stupid family tree thing for History of Magic in second year - do you remember, 'Mione? And he sat there for two minutes not writing anything except his and his parents' names. But he put his grandparents' names - his dad's parents as Charles and Maria, then he put his mum's parents' names as David and Elizabeth. Then when Professor Binns asked what his parents' blood status was Harry said James was a half blood and that Lily was a muggleborn."

"James was a pureblood, and those are most certainly not his grandparents' names." Sirius said, groaning - his poor godson, having to lie about his grandparents' names to avoid embrassment in front of his classmates. "Some of the pureblood ideologists tried to say he was a halfblood only because Euphemia was Polish and that she was foreign, and because she point blank refused to conform to British wizarding standards. But definetly, he's a pureblood."

"That's barbaic!" Hermione scoffed.

"It's the way a lot of things were back then." Mrs. Weasley said. "And in some way they still are today."

"And he said his dad's birthday was in December and his mum's in April." Ron added. "I'm guessing that's not true?"

"No." Sirius said girmly. "James was born on the 27th of March and Lily on the 31st January." 

"So why are you asking us about this?" Hermione asked. "Is there something wrong with Harry?"

"That's not our place to - " Mrs. Weasley tried to say, but Ron interrupted.

"It is our place!" Ron shouted. "He has no family left, and we're the closest thing he's got! Who else has he got besides us, Hermione and Sirius? Nobody! Nobody has been in his corner since he started Hogwarts."

"I won't deny that." Mrs. Weasley, looking resigned.

"So what's going on?" Ron demanded. "That's my brother - I don't care he's not ginger - what's wrong?"

"We think - " Sirius looked at Mrs. Weasley, who was biting on her lip to try not burst into tears. He gave her a look that said, should we tell them or not? Mrs. Weasley nodded her head, understanding him clear as day. "That Harry is being mistreated by the Dursleys. Physically, mentally, emotionally."

There was this silence, this horrible silence that seemed to drag on forever, before Hermione let out a strangled cry and burst into tears, her hand in her hands. Ron stayed silent, standing at Sirius and his mother with the same horrible look he had on his face when Harry had screamed himself hoarse in the hospital wing after Cedric died. 

"Harry?" He whispered. "Our Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, trying to cry for the sake of the two children. "Yes." She said, her voice cracking. "Our Harry."

"But how?" Hermione wailed. "He's just a child - it's not his fault he's a wizard - "

"We think it may have been going on since before Hogwarts." Sirius said, swallowing a lump in his throat. Their Harry. James and Lily's son. "Possibly since he was in primary school."

"But he was a baby!" Ron cried out, starting to cry. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears as well and ran around the table to hug Ron and Hermione, who were both bawling their eyes out now. "He was their nephew -  he's my brother - and they hate him."

"We didn't tell anyone." Hermione sobbed as she wiped her eyes on her napkin. "We didn't anyone and because of that we made him suffer more - "

"Remember the phone call?" Ron sobbed. "That time during the summer holidays where I rang him on the telephone - we'd just finished second year, and it was a few weeks before Sirius escaped from Azkaban - Harry's uncle got so angry, and I'd heard him slam down the stupid thing, then I heard someone cry out in the background."

"Was it Harry?" Hermione gasped.

"I think it was." Ron asnwered, shaking with uncontrollable guilt about the fact he had failed to protect his best friend. "It sounded like a puppy crying out. Did he get beaten because of me? Did I cause my best friend more pain - "

And what were the consequences Harry suffered simply because Ron wanted to talk to him? Sirius felt a chill go down his spine - he did not want to think of the long, lonely nights Harry had suffered in pain. He did not want to imagine a child of primary school age with James' hair and face and Lily's eyes being beaten to a pulp every night for the accidental magic he could not control, wondering why the people who raised him just didn't love him.

Were his scars hidden? Harry pulled at his sleeves, hoping they'd hide the self harm cuts well enough nobody would notice. He'd hope they'd heal quickly - he felt like he was going to boil alive in this hoodie. His jeans weren't helping either - they were these baggy blue jeans that had been a hand-me-down from Dudley before he'd lost all that weight and they had to be held up by a belt Harry used to be beaten with before he started Hogwarts. Everything was covered up except a bit of his sunburn and the bags under his eyes - but it was too late to fix those.

He was wondering what Mrs. Weasley was making for breakfast as he was walking down the staircase, but he was stopped.

"You!" The portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius' portrait, snapped. Harry turned around to face her - she was beautiful, he wouldn't deny that, but very much like Narcissa Malfoy she had an expression on her face that made it seem like she always had dirt under her nose. She looked a fair bit like Sirius, with the same stormy grey eyes and the same nose. He had heard a few things about her portrait, and none of them were pleasant at all. "Yes, you. What's your family name?"

"Potter." Harry answered, leaning against the wall. "Harry Potter, ma'am."

"Potter." She spat out, then looked him up and down. "Really? Are you Henry's great grandson?"

"I am." 

"Hmm." She said. "Well, at least you come from somewhat pureblood stock; Arabella used to be a Nott before she married Henry. Just a pity about your grandmother, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said, anger bubbling up in his stomach. "What was wrong with my grandmother?"

"Well, boy - " 

"Don't call me that - " Harry tried to say, but was interrupted by Walburga.

" - she was foreign, wasn't she?" Walburga let out a high pitched laugh. "And wasn't she stupid enough to care for your grandfather when he was dying of dragon pox, but she was stupid enough to catch it and died before he did. It's what foreigners get, y'know. And your mother was a Mudblood as well - as well as your father not being properly English he only had to ruin the Potter bloodline - "

"Don't you dare call my mother a Mudblood!" Harry shouted, finally snapping after months of anger and rage building up inside of him. "She was a much better mother then you ever were - she loved me enough to die for me!"

"HOW DARE YOU - I WAS A GOOD MOTHER - "

"OH REALLY? IS THAT WHY SIRIUS RAN AWAY AND YOUR OTHER SON JOINED THE DEATH EATERS - "

"REGULUS DID WHAT WAS RIGHT FOR OUR WORLD - THE DARK LORD WAS GOING TO BE THE MOST POWERFUL LEADER FOR CENTURIES - "

"IS THAT WHY A BABY AND HIS MUGGLEBORN MOTHER DEFEATED HIM - "

"BOY, DON'T YOU DARE DISRESPECT ME - " Walburga shrieked as Sirius ran into the hallway. The front door opened, and out of the corner of his eye Harry saw McGonagall, Remus and Dumbledore step inside, watching the scene in front of them with a look of mild horror on their faces.

"Don't call my mother a slur then, how about that?!" Harry screamed, as Sirius tried to pull him away, but Harry pushed him off - he needed to let all of his anger out now before it literally killed him. "And my father was English - "

"YOUR GRANDMOTHER SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEPORTED THE SECOND SHE STEPPED FOOT ON ENGLISH SOIL, BOY, YOUR FATHER RUINED THE PURE POTTER LINE BY MARRYING THAT MUDBLOOD SLUT - "

"DON'T CALL ME 'BOY'!" Harry screamed, and Sirius shouted 'Enough!' and waved his wand, and the curtains fell over Walburga's portrait, the hallway finally falling silent. "AND DON'T YOU DARE CALL MY MOTHER A SLUT! What the fuck - no wonder you ran away, Sirius - "

"Yeah, no one was that surprised." Sirius tried to laugh, but he just looked concerned. "Harry - what the hell happened?" 

"She called my mother that word!" Harry spat out, as Sirius gestured for him to climb down the last couple of steps - Harry felt dizzy, and he didn't know if it was from his screaming match with Walburga or the fact he'd been deprived of nutrients for so long. "And she was on about how Euphemia cared for Fleamont when he was dying, and apparently that's what foreigners get - "

"We're working on removing the portrait of that woman." McGonagall said, trying to sound reassuring. "But there may be a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back - "

"I'll burn it, how about that? I'll burn the whole place down, it's a bit depressing." Harry said, finally starting to calm down a bit. "Could do with a lick of paint, to be honest."

Sirius threw his head back and laughed. "Let's hold off the arson, shall we?"

"No, really." Harry said. "The Potters were rich, weren't they? Surely I have a house somewhere in England - "

"There is Potter Manor, and Godric's Hollow." Remus said thoughtfully. "But Godric's Hollow was warded up by the Ministry after James and Lily died, and Potter Manor was the same - we have people stationed around both in case Voldemort tries to return - "

"What?" Harry gasped. "I have a manor?"

"Yes - it's the ancestral home of the Potters. Very large home, with huge gardens." Remus explained quickly. "James grew up there; you would have as well. It's in Yorkshire - I cleared the manor and Godric's Hollow out after Halloween '81 and have everything in storage. It's been well looked after."

"We can have the meetings there." Harry proposed. "I don't mind, I'm the last Potter there is."

"We couldn't - " Dumbledore said, but Harry nodded eagerly. 

"Please?" Harry said. "I know I'm too young to join the Order, but I want to help out in any way I can, and at least with the manor the Order has more room for - for Order business? And we can actually go outside because it's been warded off, I'm already getting cabin fever from being in this house for a day."

"That's very kind of you, Harry." Dumbledore said, a sad smile on his face. "I'll accept your offer very graciously; you're providing the Order with a valuable service. Truly, it means a lot."

"No problem." Harry said cheerfully. "I just don't want to see anyone's dirty socks on the floor."

There was some light chuckling, before McGonagall spoke up. "Mr. Potter - I mean, Harry - "

Uh oh. McGonagall was calling him by his first name, that couldn't be anything good.

"We just wanted to have a chat with you about something." McGonagall said in the softest voice Harry had ever heard her speak in before. 

In Harry's experience 'we just want to have a chat about something' never really meant anything good. It usually meant he was about to get the stuffing knocked out of him.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked, growing a bit nervous.

"No, no, Prongslet, no trouble at all." Sirius said, ruffling his hair. "Just go into the drawing room, we'll see you there in a minute, we'll just wait for Arthur to come downstairs."

"Alright.." Harry let his voice trail off. Surely something had to be wrong? Nothing good could come from a talk with Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, the Weasleys and McGonagall -

"WHERE IS THAT INSOLENT POTTER BRAT, I'D LIKE TO HAVE A FEW WORDS ABOUT HIS FAMILY - "

Harry was now very close to stealing one of Fred and George's firework prototypes and launching it at Walburga's portrait.

"At least the Potters don't marry and fuck their cousins!" Harry shouted back. There was thunderous laughter, even from Dumbledore and McGonagall, and Harry thought he could Ron laughing in the kitchen. "Stupid bitch - "

He walked into the drawing room, and was captived by the sight of it. A large glass cabinet took up a full wall, and many of the potion vials inside had what seemed like blood inside him, or several very illegal looking potions. There was an Order of Merlin medal belonging to Arcturus Black for 'services to the Ministry' and a few objects Harry swore he saw being sold in Knockturn Alley during his detour there when he'd gone shopping with the Weasleys. Then there was a tapestry of the Black family tree talking up the biggest wall, and Harry eagerly looked for Charlus, Dorea and William's names, to have the proof in his mind that they really had existed after all.

He found their names eventually - CHARLUS EDMUND POTTER, BORN MARCH 3RD 1931, DIED APRIL 14TH 1978 - and traced his fingers over Charlus' name. He'd been burnt off the family tree, so Harry couldn't see his face, but he knew he existed now. Charlus was eleven years younger then his grandfather had been - that meant Fleamont was born around 1920, making him around four years younger then his grandmother. They had, once upon a time, been living people. DOREA CASSIOPEIA POTTER-BLACK, BORN 31ST JULY 1931, DIED APRIL 14TH 1978 - she'd also been burnt off the tree, as well as her and Charlus' son but Harry was thrilled knowing he had the same birthday as his great aunt, for once having something in common with someone he was related to. WILLIAM EDWIN POTTER, BORN FEBRUARY 14TH 1964, DIED APRIL 14TH 1978 - he was the same age as Harry now, and Harry wondered how his cousin had felt, probably watching his parents being murdered, and knowing he was going to be next - 

"Harry, dear, sit down and have a sandwich." Mrs. Weasley said, trying to sound cheerful as she walked in with a serving platter piled high with sandwiches - ham and cheese, egg salad, BLTs, cucumber, all sorts - and a steaming pot of tea with milk and sugar cubes floating beside her. "You must be straving, eat up, you're far too skinny for my liking."

"I had dinner last night." Harry said, as he sat down, looking at the sandwiches - they looked so good, but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to eat them since he'd had so much dinner last night - he wanted to leave some for everyone else and was afraid of being accused of being greedy. But the BLT sandwiches looked so good... "I'll have one." He then said, picking up a BLT and biting into it before she could take it off him.

"Good lad." Mrs. Weasley smiled, and she sat down opposite him just as McGonagall, Dumbledore, Remus and Mr. Weasley all came into the drawing room and sat around Harry. Sirius shut the down behind them and sat beside Harry, and squeezed his hand.

"Harry, my boy, we all wanted to have a talk with you about something important." Dumbledore said gently.

Well shit.

Harry felt a shiver go down his spine. Had something happened to one of the Dursleys, because as much as Harry didn't like them and as awful as they treated him he didn't think they deserved to die, because after all he had deserved some of it, or most of it, for being such a burden on them. Or one of the Order members had been murdered, or was Voldemort going after him again, which was nothing new really. Was somebody dying? It better not be Sirius, because he was the only family Harry had left.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked, dropping his sandwich into his lap. His hand shook, and he clasped his hands together so they all wouldn't see that he was starting to fall apart. "Whatever I did, I swear I'll make up for it - "

"No, no, Harry dear." McGonagall said. Now McGonagall was calling him dear? "We wanted to talk to you about your home life with your aunt and uncle."

No, Harry thought to himself, no no no NO! No - how did they know? He had done such a good job at hiding it. Harry looked down at his sleeves and they had been covering his bruises and cuts, and so were his jeans. He'd covered everything up, but apparently not good enough. He felt like he was going to throw up his breakfast and his BLT, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked McGonagall in her eyes.

"Why?" Harry asked, trying to sound as normal as possible but his voice cracked nervously. "Why - why would you need to talk to me about them? There's nothing wrong with the way they treat me."

"Well, we think the opposite of that." Remus said. 

"Why? I don't think I've given you a reason to."

"You have." Sirius said. "Harry, you have a burn on your cheek, and a massive cut on your head. You told Remus it was from walking into a doorframe and making tea?"

"So?" Harry mumbled as he folded his arms and stared at the floor. "It's the truth."

"So you burned yourself from making tea? 100 percent?"

"I swear on my life because evidently nothing can kill me."

"I call bullshit." Sirius said. "Because you told me you burned your face from turning the water in the shower too high."

They knew. As much as Harry wanted to deny it, it was true, and everyone in the room was staring at him with pity on their faces. Harry didn't want pity but there was this deep, sad feeling filling his whole body that he just wanted to go home. Home, whatever on earth that was for Harry, would keep him safe he was pretty sure. Hogwarts was the closest thing he had to that but Hogwarts was a school, not a house for Harry to be loved and nurtured in. All the gold in the world from the Potters that came before him and he still had fucking nothing.

"I got my stories mixed up." Harry eventually said. "And I did walk into a doorframe."

"A cut of that size cannot be made from walking into a doorframe, dear boy." Dumbledore said gently, and he flicked his wand and Harry felt the cut on his head and the burn on his cheek slowly and painfully stitich themselves together. "They will certainly scar, but very faint ones."

"Thanks." Harry mumbled. "Like I haven't got enough of those." He unconsciously rubbed the arm where Wormtail had slit his arm open, and the other scars he'd given himself so he wouldn't have to see that long, ugly scar anymore. 

"They give you a ridiculous amount of chores as well, Harry, and you had to stand on a ladder for an hour during a heatwave cleaning out the gutters." McGonagall said, and Harry shook his head. "Don't shake your head at me, young man, I'll take points away!"

"So?" Harry said. "Everyone has to do chores; I'm freaky though so I have to do more, I have to earn my place." He turned to Sirius, who looked heartbroken? Devastated? Angry? No one could really tell. "Do I have to do chores around here as well? I'll earn my keep."

"Harry - " Sirius breathed out. He cupped Harry's face in his hands, and Harry spotted tears in his grey eyes, and froze in place - he'd upset Sirius, now what was going to happening? He was in so much trouble now. "You are not freaky, do you hear me? And you certainly do not have to earn your keep around here either; letting me love you is more then enough."

"But I have to earn my keep!" Harry cried out, and his leg began to shake like it always did when he got anxious. "Or how will I get love? It's just tough love what the Dursleys give me."

"It is not tough love, Harry, it's abuse." Sirius insisted. Harry started to cry - why did Sirius love him so much? Why did anybody love him at all? Harry at fourteen didn't deserve it and neither did the little boy who cried from hunger in the cupboard under the stairs. 

"Doesn't everybody get smacked around a bit?" Harry shouted, and Mrs. Weasley shrieked in horror. "What? Surely Mum and Dad would have done it to me. I caused them so much trouble and pain."

"Harry."  Dumbledore said gently. "I am well over a hundred years old and I assure that even back in my day, my mother didn't smack me or my siblings around a bit."

"It's not that bad!" Harry insisted, as Mrs. Weasley began to sob uncontrollably, and McGonagall went to comfort her. "They've only ever broken my wrist and maybe a few ribs, I get fed every couple of days as well so it's really not that bad, I can handle it. I'm brave enough to do that!"

"Harry - you have been me and Molly's son since our sons stole our car and went on a joyride to Surrey to bring you to the Burrow." Mr. Weasley said, and Sirius noticed and greatly appreciated the fact that he making his voice sound low and gentle so Harry wouldn't get a fright. "You have to understand, sweetheart, that this is abuse plain and simple. You shouldn't have to be brave about this sort of thing."

"But it's fine - the cupboard really isn't that bad." Harry said, and before he could say more Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall both screamed, and Sirius brought Harry into a tight bear hug, and no matter how much Harry tried to squirm away Sirius would just not let go. "I got used to the spiders eventually."

"Harry." Remus choked out, trying very hard to hold hid tears back. "You said to me while you were getting your Firebolt out from the cupboard under the stairs you told me the Dursleys kept 'Just what they call rubbish and anything not worth enough to keep around'. Did they really keep you under there?"

"Well, yeah." Harry said, and he wasn't really sure why they were all worried. Wasn't this normal? "A couple of times I slept out in the shed as well, but that wasn't so bad either because I used to pretend I was camping. It got cold though."

McGonagall couldn't believe it, and knew she'd blame herself for the rest of her life. She'd been friends with Fleamont from when she was eleven and he was sixteen until the day he died, and she had failed to protect his only grandson. Whenever she look at Harry, she not only saw James but she saw Fleamont as well - her best friend would haunt her for failing to protect Harry.

"But they're not wrong." Harry continued, and McGonagall didn't think it could get worse - but it did. "I annoyed them, and I cost them a lot in food and maybe I'm not worth anything." He turned to Sirius. "I must not be worth much for you."

"Harry, I broke out of Azkaban for you." Sirius said, as he grabbed Harry's hand inbetween his own. "I swam in freezing cold temperatures across an ocean for you and I travelled on foot across England so I could get a glispe of your face."

Harry pulled his hoodie over his face. He didn't want people to see him cry, but Sirius pulled down his hoodie and pulled Harry closer to him. Harry couldn't resist curling into Sirius' side, and he felt warm and cosy for the first time in what seemed like forever. He felt safe too, in the arms of a man who had sacrifised so much for you.

"Just look at my tattoo." Sirius continued, and he pulled up his shirt. Harry had of course noticed the huge, sprawling tattoo on Sirius' back before - it was a constellation of stars, and Harry hadn't asked what it was about or who it was about before. It was probably the most detailed tattoo he'd ever seen before - it was a whole night sky on Sirius' back, a half Waning Gibbous moon and there was so many stars, every one of them individually tattooed on. "You ever wondered who that was for?"

"Well yeah but I didn't ask because they didn't like me asking questions." Harry said, as Sirius pulled him back into his side and began stroking his hair. Harry let all of his muscles relax, and breathed in the smell of Sirius' cololgne - something woody, almost? "Who was it for? Dad?"

"No, Prongslet, it's for you." Sirius said. "Took me hours as well, mind you, but it was worth every minute. It was the constellation of stars that appeared in the sky the night you were born."

"You got a tattoo for me?"

"I got several." Sirius said, pulling up his sleeve. Harry saw his name - Harry James - he hadn't known his middle name was James, then his birthday 31st July then 11:57 PM, then a monkey, a Leo constellation, a larkspur, an eagle. He recognised the Leo constellation from Astronomy class. "1980 was the year of the monkey and the larkspur and eagle are symbols of July."

"You got all those for me?"

"I did." Sirius said, and he took Harry into his arms and stared into his face. "Prongslet, my whole body is a quite literally a map of how much I love you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sirius." Harry whispered, and he didn't care that people were watching them as he curled into his godfather's chest so he could hear his heartbeat. "I didn't even know my middle name was James. I have my dad's name?"

"You do." Sirius whispered back, and he kept running his hands through Harry's hair. "You have Henry's name, then your dad's name, but you are your own person, Harry. You're not going back, y'know?"

"But what about the blood protection? Mum and Dad died for me so I have to keep going back there. Dumbledore says every year I have to go back." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry thought he saw McGonagall glare at Dumbledore who looked deeply ashamed, but Harry was so tired, and he was sleepy and warm and most of all, safe, in Sirius' arms. "I don't want to waste their sacrifise."

"Harry, I assure you that your parents would rather you live with people who love and care for you exactly as you deserve then have you return to a house of abusers." Remus said. "They would rather you be safe then suffer any more then you already have."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. They had only been twenty one after all - they still had so much life to live, and they given it all up for him.

"Positive." Remus answered. "You can sleep now. You're safe here."

And then Harry closed his eyes, being rocked in his godfather's arms, and all he heard was his godfather talking to him about how much he loved him, how he was going to keep him safe and sound and Harry finally let his guard down, and slept for the first time in days.

"I bet you feel guilty now." McGonagall snapped at Dumbledore. "I hope you feel guilty. I told you fourteen years ago they despised anything outside their pecrieved notions of normal, and here we are with the consequences."

"I feel guilt beyond what words can describe." Dumbledore said gravely, and he could not take his eyes off Harry. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to Harry. I suspect the Potter and Evans are furious with me in the afterlife - "

"I'll tell you what, Dumbledore, you're lucky Euphemia isn't still alive." Remus said with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh no, Moony, what about Mary? She may have been a Muggle but she had an impressive collection of frying pans."

"I suspect I'll be met with two furious grandmothers when I join the afterlife." Dumbledore said.

"Not if Lily gets to you first."

Dumbledore shivered. "I dread her reaction above anyone else, I admit. I promised her the day Harry was born I'd protect him from all harm. I thought that to be Voldemort, but I'd never imagined it would be her own sister. Now I will look into Lily's eyes, and James and Fleamont's face and the guilt will eat me up from the inside."

"We're taking him." Mrs. Weasley annouced, as if she had decided it on her own and everybody else just had to agree with her. Mr. Weasley nodded beside her, staring at Harry with that look of love in his eyes that all fathers have. "I do hope you'll approve Sirius."

"Couldn't imagine better people taking him in." Sirius said approvingly, still not letting go of Harry. "You adore him already - he's like your son. You are exactly the kind of people James and Lily would want looking after their son."

"We'll do our best." Mr. Weasley said. "We might not have much, but we have enough for Harry. We'll always have enough for Harry."

"Who shall we send to Privet Drive to collect Harry's things?" Remus asked, though privately he knew that Harry probably didn't have much there. "He might want some of his things there."

"You and Tonks?" Sirius suggested, and Remus nodded. "Well, that's it. What do we do now? Do we report it to the Ministry or the Muggles?"

"Do we even know if Harry wants to report it?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Sirius looked at her sharply. She continued to speak. "Well, the pressure of a trial, having to answer questions on what they did to them, having to stand up in a courtroom - magical or Muggle - and tell a bunch of strangers what his own relatives did to him. It could be a lot of weight on his shoulders, and he's already been through so much."

Sirius sighed, and looked at Harry's sleeping face. "I suppose so." He said. "But still - justice. I want justice for what they did to him. He was hardly more then a baby. Petunia looked into the eyes of her sister's child and decided she hated him enough to hurt him. She made him sleep in a cupboard!"

He could only look at Harry's face and wonder what sort of things could have been going on behind closed doors? How, for so many years, no one noticed that something was wrong with Harry? Not teachers, not neighbours, not friends, not anybody living on Privet Drive. How many people had failed Harry Potter? Sirius went to pull up Harry's sleeve - if Harry wouldn't take off his hoodie, then he'd have to least roll up the sleeves or he'd boil alive in the thing - but froze.

Of course he'd known about the big, ugly long scar Wormtail had given Harry in the graveyard - it was healing nicely, and it had turned to a pinkish, reddish colour. Sirius was pretty sure, however, that Wormtail had not given Harry the little cuts, some red and some white and some fading into scars already. These weren't from abuse or an attempt to raise the Dark Lord - Harry himself, their wonderful, kind, amazing Harry, had done this to himself for Merlin knows how long.

"Do you see this?" Sirius choked out. McGonagall nodded, letting out choking noises as she pressed her hankerchief to her mouth so she wouldn't burst out crying. "That's not - oh, he did this to himself, didn't he?"

Dumbledore nodded with tears in his eyes as McGonagall handed him a spare hankerchief. There was not a dry eye in the room, only Harry's as he slept on not knowing everyone around him was falling apart because they loved him so much. Harry began to stir, and he opened those green eyes to see everyone crying.

"Did I do something wrong?" He mumbled sleepily. "I'm sorry, I'll make up for it - " Then he froze, as he realised his sleeve was pulled up, and everyone could see his scars. 

Harry felt raw and exposed; like someone had peeled all the skin off his body and his nerves were exposed to feel all the pain and humilation. He felt like a deer in headlights - wasn't that ironic? What would they think of the Boy Who Lived now? They'd surely think he was pathetic and useless, and now they had a reason for the Dursleys abusing him. He'd never escape now - they'd send him back there for good and wouldn't let him see Sirius or Hogwarts again, and all Harry would know is pain with no escape -

"Harry." Sirius said, and Harry shot up like a bullet, backing towards the wall, babbling all sorts of apologises like the freak he was as he pulled down his sleeve. "Please, Harry, we just want to talk - "

"Can I leave?" Harry sobbed, as he felt his back hit the Black family tapestry. What would Charlus and Dorea think of him now? And his grandparents - what would James and Lily think of their freak son? "Please, I want to go home - "

"Home? Harry, what do you mean home? You hardly mean - "

"I want my mum!" Harry sobbed, as he fell onto the floor and crawled backwards on his hands and knees into the corner. "Please, Sirius, I want to go home, I just want my mum and dad - "

He pulled his hoodie over his head and his knees to his chest as Sirius and Mrs. Weasley sat beside him, but didn't touch him. Harry loved them to the moon and back, but they weren't his parents. They never would be. Harry wouldn't see his parents again until Death took him as he saw fit. Harry would grow old and his parents never would, because they had died for him -

"I see them in my dreams, and I reach for them, and before I touch them, they're gone - "

"You never have to go back, Harry." Mrs. Weasley said softly as she rubbed his back. "I won't let them hurt you again."

"I want my mum!" Harry sobbed. He imagined what his mother would say and do now - would she hold him in her arms and promise to love him forever? Would she run her hand through his hair and sing to him, or would she tuck him into bed and sit near him telling stories until he fell asleep? He'd never know what Lily would do. "I want to go home - "

"Godric's Hollow?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded. The drawing room door opened, and Harry shrieked like a wounded animal. 

"NO!" Harry screamed. "Get out, get out, GET OUT!" 

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley said firmly as he walked over to the door. "Out, now. You heard - well, you heard."

"That's my best friend!" Harry could hear Ron shout, and he wanted Ron so badly, but he couldn't find the words to tell Mr. Weasley so. "I don't care what you're saying to me, Dad, that's my Harry in there - "

"Ronald!" Mr. Weasley scolded. "I told you - Ron! - Hermione, no - "

But Ron pushed past his father into the drawing room with Hermione following him, and they saw Harry in the corner crying harder then ever before. 

"Harry?" Hermione said gently, and before anyone could speak Harry shot up and ran into Hermione's arms. Ron joined the hug so that Harry was sandwiched between them. "Oh Harry - "

"I'm sorry!" Harry sobbed. "I'm so fucking sorry, I - I didn't tell you - and you must think it's all your fault when it isn't - "

"Harry, it's alright." Ron said, as he awkwardly patted Harry's back. "It's not your fault, it's only those stupid fucking Muggles. I won't let you go back, I'll steal the car again if I have to."

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley groaned, and Harry giggled between his tears.

"Would you?"

"Course I would - I'd bring Hermione with me, and we'd rescue you from anywhere."

"Not sure I'd trust your driving skills." Hermione mumbled, and Harry laughed again. Behind them, Sirius and Mrs. Weasley nodded encouragingly - keep him laughing and smiling, the looks in their eyes said. Don't let fall into that dark hole again. "You'd crash it in the first five minutes."

"Not true! Me and Harry did fine driving to school in second year, right Harry?"

"The two of you crashed into the Whomping Willow - "

"Actually, Ron did." Harry mumbled, and the trio laughed as they pulled apart. For a moment, they were in their own little bubble - they didn't have to worry about what people thought of them. "Can we play wizard's chess?"

"Course we can." Ron said, and he looked towards the sandwiches. "We'll bring some sandwiches. Can we - "

"Take as much as you need." Mrs. Weasley said, wiping the tears away from her eyes as she stood up. Harry still could not look anybody in the eyes, and he looked down at the shoes on his feet Sirius had picked out for him. "Take another one of the ham and cheese, Harry likes those, don't you dear - "

Harry could only nod as he bit his fingernails. He had never fully stopped the habit even after he started Hogwarts - Uncle Vernon usually gave him a few slaps if he saw Harry biting his fingernails, but Harry couldn't stop. Hermione used to nag him over it and put on some smelly nail varnish that was supposed to stop Harry biting his fingernails, but Harry only peeled the stuff off and kept biting until the fingernail tore and bled.

"You go have fun with your friends, Prongslet." Sirius said, giving Harry another one of his signature bear hugs. "Everything - everything can be handled later. Go be a kid for once."

Harry could only nod and run out of the drawing room door, and up the stairs past Walburga's portrait, trying to hold his tears back until he got to his and Ron's bedroom, and where he could finally fall apart in the arms of the two people in the world who knew him the best.

"Knight to E3." Harry said as he swallowed a mouthful of Berite Botts' Every Flavour Beans. He, Ron and Hermione had been in Harry and Ron's bedroom for the past two hours, eating sandwiches and the sweets Ron hide in his trunk from the twins. He had taken off his hoodie and put shorts on and although they had stared at his injuries and scars for a few moments, they hadn't said anything which Harry greatly appeariacted. "You're losing your touch, Weasley."

"Am not!" Ron insisted, as he threw another bean at Harry. "Pawn to B4 - ha, see! Just got your pawn."

"Fuck off." Harry said, and they all laughed. He wanted to say something, he really did, but he didn't want to spoil the mood. But it'll destroy him from the inside out if he didn't say anything. And besides Sirius, Harry cared more about Ron and Hermione's opionions then anyone else. "I don't think I want to press charges against the Dursleys."

Hermione paused in the middle of her wordsearch in a Muggle magazine Harry didn't recognise, and Ron was still holding the box of sweets in his hands. They looked at him not with pity, but with something Harry couldn't quite explain yet - understanding, perhaps?

"Alright." Hermione said slowly. "You don't have to press charges if you really don't want to, Harry, but can me and Ron ask why?"

"I'm - we're on your side, mate. Just want to make that clear." Ron added hastily.

"I mean - " Harry sighed loudly, and buried his face in his hands. "I'm just - just done, to be honest. I'm just tired. Now it's all out in the open, I'm not going back anymore - not that your mum would let me, Ron."

"Mate, she'd steal the car before I'd get a chance and steal you from the Dursleys."

"Exactly. Yeah, well, it's hard to explain but I can't do it. I'm done with them. I don't want to see them ever again - not in a courtroom, not in a police station, nowhere. People will assume I want justice and I want them to go to prison for what they've done to me, but having to relive everything in court?" 

"I wouldn't be able." Hermione said, shifting closer to Harry.

"Neither am I." Harry said, and took a deep breath. "I just want peace. I just want to live with Sirius and forget about them."

"Can we take some sort of revenge on them?" Ron asked, and Hermione threw her magazine at him. "Ow! Why, 'Mione?"

"You heard what Harry said!" Hermione hissed.

"No, no, 'Mione. I kind of like what Ron's getting at."

Ron smirked. "Thank you Harry. I'm not saying press charges, just, I dunno, spread rumours that you were taken out because they mistreated you. Don't have to say they beat you or anything."

"Oh that's perfect." Harry laughed. Hermione and Ron looked surprised. "No, it really is - besides Dudley, the thing they pride most is their reputation and what the neighbours think of them. I love it, and it'd follow them for years as well. You might have outsmarted Hermione on this one Ron."

"Hey!" Hermione shouted, and she threw one of her pens at Harry who shrieked with laughter. "You outsmart me, maybe, but Ronald - "

"Excuse me, Hermione, I'm very intelligent - "

"Really? Tell that to your potion grades."

Harry had never felt so loved before. "Queen forward." He announced loudly, and watched with a grin on his face as he won a wizard's chess game against Ron for the first time in forever. "Now, Weasley, you're really losing your touch."

Ron howled. "Oh, come on, that's just not fair."

"Is so." Harry smirked, and for that Ron threw a pillow at him.

"We have a plan!" Ron announced as he and Hermione walked into the drawing room, with Harry slowly following behind them with a ham and cheese sandwich in his hands. "It's a very good plan as well, mind you."

"I doubt that." McGonagall said, quickly glancing at Harry and then back at Ron, raising an eyebrow. 

"Professor, have some faith in our plans!"

"Mr. Weasley, when have any of your plans actually worked?" McGonagall said, and there was some laughter as Ron pretended to look offended.

"The troll did, and the whole Chamber of Secrets thing did." Ron protested. "But anyways, we - that means the three of us - have a plan. Harry, you're up."

Harry walked to stand between Ron and Hermione, and it took a couple of seconds for him to be able to speak again. "I don't want to press charges against the Dursleys." He croaked out, his voice cracking on a couple of words. "I just can't."

"Oh Harry." Mrs. Weasley said softly. "Of course you don't have to if you don't want to. We're all very supportive of whatever you want to do with them."

"We mean it, Prongslet." Sirius said, and Harry relaxed knowing his godfather approved.

"I'm just done with them. I don't want to relive everything, and I'm tired." Harry said. "But this spectualar red head wants revenge, and so do I. I might not want to relive it in court but it doesn't mean they should get away with what they did to me."

"Will it put anyone's lives in dangers?" McGonagall asked. "Because you all end up in near death experiences far too often then I'd like. You lot have given me more grey hairs in the past four years then all of my students combined in my entire teaching career."

"Not this time." Hermione said, and she looked around the room as though she was addressing them in a courtroom - if they were all Muggles, and had gone to Muggle school, Harry thought Hermione would have made a very good lawyer. "Harry told me and Ron that what the Dursleys treasure most in their reputation in their neighbourhood and what the neighbours think of them."

"Scumbags." Mr. Weasley mumbled under his breath. 

"So." Hermione said. "I - we - propose that we spread rumours via members of the Order who will pose as social workers. These Order members will visit houses in Privet Drive and ask questions about Harry and his life with the Dursleys. These neighbours - "

"Who are all real gossips, by the way." Harry butted in, and Hermione smiled at him. Like big sister and little brother, McGonagall thought as she smiled at the Golden Trio - how anyone saw them as a couple she'd never know. 

" - thank you Harry. Yes, these neighbours will gossip and spread rumours about the Dursleys and how they treated Harry, and their perfect life will fall around them." Hermione said. "It may not be traditional justice as such, but seeing as Harry is unwilling to go through an investigation and a trial, not to mention having to co-ordinate between the magical and the Muggle worlds, it's an great idea in my opionion."

"Well, Dumbledore would have to approve - " Sirius began.

"I approve." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Revenge is a dish best served cold. Seeing as Harry is unwilling to go through the heavy weight of an investiagation and a trial, and they obviously cannot go unpunished, I see this as the best possible solution, unorthodox as it may be. Remus, I propose that you and Tonks carry out this plan?"

"Fine with me." Remus replied.

"And we increase the numbers!" Hermione said, her eyes glittering with a sort of enthusiasam and triumph Harry hadn't seen in her eyes since she told him she trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar. "First it's Remus and Tonks, then a couple more - like Hestia, as social workers. Then we spread more rumours and - bam! Reputations ruined forever."

"Hermione, I'm utterly terrified of what sort of revenge acts you could plan out given the time and resources." Remus said, looking mildly impressed and terrified at the same time.

Harry and Ron snorted behind Hermione, and she whipped around to glare at them. "I will tell your mother what happened - " She said.

"My mum's dead." Harry said. "Don't think a lot of people know that."

"And mine would probably die for Harry." Ron added.

Hermione huffed. "Whatever. I take it we're going with my plan then."

Harry couldn't believe it, and he wanted to take Hermione's Time Turner - whatever on earth had happened to it - and travel back in time, so that lonely little boy who was bullied, abused and neglected by everybody in his life but Mrs. Figg could finally know he'd have a godfather who broke out of prison for him, two of the best friends he could have ever gotten and a whole new family in a different world.

Harry Potter, for the most part, was still very tired. But now, at last, he knew he was safe and sound.