Chapter 1: The Baby in the Ruins
Harry winced as the sound of falling cutlery rang out somewhere behind him, immediately followed by Neville's apology. Harry still wasn't sure why he'd bothered bringing the klutz along, but McGonagall had insisted he not go alone. Naturally he'd ask Ron or Hermione to come with, but Ron needed time with his grieving family and Hermione went back to the muggle world in search of her parents, to undo the spell she had put on them. It had been only a week since his showdown with Voldemort and Hogwarts was still pretty much in ruins. He had wanted to help rebuild, but when McGonagall had seen how fidgety he was becoming, she suggested he go to examine an old Death Eater safe house in search of, as she had so eloquently put it, 'any remaining cowardly mongrels'. He smiled at that, but even then he knew that the likelihood of someone actually living there was extremely small. Still, he needed to take his mind off things so he invited Neville and Loona to tag along. But he had to admit, as he opened a door that fell off its hinges in his arms, the falling cutlery wasn't entirely Neville's fault. The safe house was a mess, what with the crumbling ceiling, upturned tables and furniture, cobwebs and dust covering every nook and cranny.
"Oooo," Loona cooed behind him. "Having doors fall before you is a sign of an easy path in life." she added in her dreamy, singsong voice. Harry much doubted it, for his entire life had been struggle after struggle, but said nothing of it.
"Loona, could you help me move this?" he indicated the wardrobe that now lay on its side, blocking the now door less doorway.
"Sure. On the count of three?" Harry nodded. "One, two, three!" the two of them heaved the wardrobe out of the way, only to be assaulted by a fresh wave of ancient dust.
"Achoo!" Loona sneezed, wiping her nose.
"Bless you," Harry said automatically.
They strode languidly into the room, Neville bringing up the rear. They found no reason to keep their senses heightened for, apart from numerous spiders and other pestilences or an occasional boggart, they had encountered nothing remarkably dangerous and they had combed nearly the entire house. The air in this new room smelt musty, so humid the stench was nearly palpable. The wallpapers were tacky, years out of fashion and faded from age.
"I don't think this place deserves either the 'safe' or the 'house' bit." Harry mused as Neville satisfied his curiosity unsticking the drawers of a nearby walnut commode. When he finally managed to open one, his face contorted into an expression, which was impossible to read.
"What the hell is this?" he asked, lifting something from the depths and shaking the dust off it.
Harry stared at the moth-eaten rag and came to a conclusion. "It's a dress."
"Who in their right mind would ever wear something like this?" he shrieked in outrage. "It's not fit to be a dish rag." his brows furrowed in contempt as he took in the sorry excuse for a dress.
"Is that you talking or your grandmother?" Neville blushed a deep crimson at that. "I didn't know you were such a fashion expert." Harry chuckled at his friend's discomfort.
"I think it would suit you, Neville," Loona appeared and taking hold of the dress began sizing it up to Neville who was turning redder by the second. It was a general rule; if their only female companion told you something suited you, you had better steer clear of it if you ever wanted to show your face in public again.
"Now that I think of it, the dress does look kind of familiar," the bespectacled wizard remarked as he leaned against a table that looked so rickety as to not stand the weight of a feather, let alone a seventeen year-old wizard, albeit a scrawny one.
"All right, mate, now please stop it." Neville moaned in embarrassment.
"No, I'm serious. It reminds me of someone."
"Doesn't it look like something Bellatrix Lestrange would wear? Minus the moth holes." Loona chirped in.
"Yes, that's it. Exactly."
Come on, guys. Now you're saying I would look good in the clothes of the woman who killed my parents. That's taking it too far." Neville's voice oozed hurt thickly.
"No, no, that's not what we meant," Loona rushed to placate him. "We were just implying that Bellatrix must have been here at some point.
Harry hastily removed himself from their conversation and strode purposefully towards an intricately carved wooden door. He couldn't explain it, but he was somehow drawn to it. Maybe it was because of the detailed depictions of magical beasts and creatures. Just as he was about to turn the door handle, he heard a quiet wail coming from the other side of the door. He glanced back at his two friends, but apparently they had heard nothing. With his sweaty palm he turned the cold handle as another muffled wail pierced the air. He drew his wand. The door led to a long, dimly lit hallway. So far he could not see what was making the wailing noises. Looking around he had to marvel at how beautiful the house could've been were it not so dilapidated. Under a thick coat of dust the furniture was of the highest quality, the windows were all set in ornate window frames and marble pillars supported raised archways every now and then. T he Chosen One was nearing the end of the hallway, where two new doors awaited. He listened and heard another wail come from the one on his left. He opened it and then the shock of what he saw paralyzed his body in place. In the dark, stingy, tiny room, under some type of glowing protective barrier, was a baby. An actual wailing human baby. Harry got on his knees on the floor next to the barrier, its warm light illuminating his skin. He moved to touch it, uncertain of what would happen; yet the surprise had completely overridden the fear, which should have been present. As soon as his fingers brushed its surface, the barrier disintegrated away, leaving a tingling sensation in the tips of his digits. Noting the absence of the familiar glow the baby let out a full-blown howl. Harry hadn't the faintest what to do and he clumsily cradled the baby in his arms, carefully supporting its head so it didn't loll backwards.
"Shh," he calmed, rocking it back and forth as it gradually quietened, nuzzling its frail form into the nook of his elbow. Harry found himself staring at the baby, its scruff of short black hair and piercing gray eyes, which stared back at him with interest, apparently finding in him a kindred spirit. An envelope lay on the floor, where the baby had been and Harry was sickened by how history was repeating itself, but even he hadn't been abandoned in a crumbling building. With one hand he fumbled with the envelope and his eyes skimmed the letter inside. As he read it, his stomach knotted. How could this be? He looked back at the baby and swallowed, terror and apprehension clutching at his throat. No, it wasn't the baby's fault. Sympathy swelled within his heart. He read the last lines of the mother's letter again:
She should be named Isabella, or at least that is what I would have wanted, but I understand if my wishes are the last to be respected, given the circumstances. I would like she take on the surname of the family good enough to take her in, for she should not be burdened with neither her mother's or her father's last name...
"So, little Isabella..." Harry began, but the baby had already fallen asleep. The letter also specified her date of birth was April 24th 1997, making her a bit over a year old.
"Harry, where are you?" Neville cried and Harry cringed, fearing he had woken the baby, but she continued snoozing peacefully.
"Over here," he said back as his friends opened the door, both their faces going slack.
"Harry, what is that?" Loona asked, eyeing the bundle in his arms.
"A baby. Her name is Isabella.," he explained.
"How can you possibly know?"
"It says so, in her mother's letter." he waved the piece of paper. "Both her parents are dead. She's over a year old. We should get back to Hogwarts." his manner changed, becoming serious.
"We can't Apparate," Loona pointed out. "Not because it's Hogwarts, but because the baby'll be sick."
"She'll be sick whichever method of travel we employ." Harry said, the warmth of the little bundle in his arms calming him. He smiled stupidly.
In the end they decided to Apparate just outside Hogwarts and not surprisingly it upset little Isabella's stomach and she was sick all over Harry, who cleaned up the mess with a lazy flick of his wand. No longer sensing the rancid smell, she went back to sleep. As he entered the Entrance hall, he couldn't stop his thoughts from racing all over the place. The poor child. What a legacy! He had thought it were over-he had never expected this. He ran down the hall, past scores of witches and wizards working on countless repairs.
"Madam Pomfrey! Has anyone seen Madam Pomfrey?" he screamed as he trotted past.
"Potter, what is the meaning of this conundrum?" professor McGonagall made an appearance, in all her severity.
"Professor, have you seen Madam Pomfrey?" he asked.
"Why? Did something happen?" her manner grew concerned.
"We searched the safe house and found little Isabella here," he said lifting the baby so the professor could see her sleeping form clearly. "Before you say anything, read this." he fished in his back pocket for the letter and handed it over.
McGonagall's face paled as she read it, but then recomposed a she took charge: "Follow me."
Harry obeyed as she led him across corridors and into a makeshift hospital wing. The professor disappeared behind a curtain. "Poppy," she said and the medi-witch appeared.
"What is it, Minerva," she looked tired, but as competent as ever.
"I need you to take a look at the baby Potter here found abandoned in a Death Eater safe house."
If the request surprised her, Poppy Pomfrey didn't show it as she took he infant from Harry's arms, leaving them strikingly bare, and told him not to disturb her as she performed her check-up. She took the baby to a cubicle and he was compelled to wait outside with professor McGonagall. The absence of the bundle left him feeling cold, he needed to keep her safe! When had he become so attached to her?
"How is this possible?" McGonagall asked him.
"I don't know. There must've been more going on at the Death Eaters than we anticipated." he replied.
Professor McGonagall was about to say something, but she excused herself and returned a couple minutes later with the slightly tear-streaked from of Ginny Weasley. Upon seeing Harry she ran into his arms and held him close. "What's this all about?" she asked. "We're in the hospital wing. Are you okay?" she pried herself from the embrace and gave him a once over.
"Mr. Potter found an abandoned baby in the ruins of a Death Eater safe house." McGonagall interrupted their reunion.
"What?" Ginny was too stunned to speak. "Is this true?" he nodded.
"Considering Harry's already godfather to Teddy Lupin I wondered if you'd be prepared to take in Isabella as well." the eldest in the group said. She knew they were responsible and caring, she could feel it. "Once your studies are completed, that is."
Harry and Ginny looked at each other, speechless. "I understand if you need some time to think it over. They're about the same age too." the professor supplied.
Before anyone could speak, Madam Pomfrey made an appearance, holding baby Isabella in her arms. "A very healthy one year old girl," she proclaimed proudly. "Nothing seems to be wrong with her. God knows for how long she was abandoned there. You can hold her if you like." she handed the gurgling baby to Harry. She was by now wide-awake and smiling, trying to grab at Ginny's fingers as she leaned to look at her closer. Isabella sneezed softly as a strand of Ginny's hair tickled her nose.
"She's adorable," Ginny purred, kissing her cheek.
"What do you say?" Harry asked.
"Well, Teddy could use a playmate," she smiled.
"This is a big responsibility." the prospect both excited and terrified him.
"My mom's been coaching me since I was small, I know."
"Then," he raised the smiling baby to eye level. "Welcome to the family Isabella Potter."