Chapter one: Rose
Cold was the morning Rose woke up on her only cousin's eleventh birthday, a chilly Saturday morning in March. She groaned and rolled over, blinking a few times and scratching lightly at the scar on her wrist before sitting up. Tossing her duvet aside, she swung her legs around to get out of bed. She regretted the decision almost immediately, but resisted the urge to crawl back in her warm bed. She hummed to herself as she dressed, wearing a dress she hadn't worn yet from an old box her aunt had given her- hand-me-downs from her aunt's childhood, with a peter pan collar and little sunflowers scattered.
Harry was up before her, obviously not having slept well the night before, and trying desperately not to burn the eggs. A feat, that she could tell by the smell, was not accomplished. She sighed and took the pan from him to start a new batch.
"Harry, why didn't you sneak up to my room? You look terrible."
"And risk getting you into trouble?" He asked incredulously. "Smart, Rosie, real smart."
Rose knew it bothered him, the difference in how they were treated, but he would never say so. She hated it too. It made her feel guilty to see him blamed for everything that went wrong and punished in ridiculous ways, though, whenever she did something to get in trouble, Aunt Petunia was there to her rescue. Rose stayed in the spare room upstairs, Harry was cramped in the cupboard under the stairs.
"I could have handled it," she insisted quietly, moving the finished eggs to a plate.
"You mean Aunt Petunia would have handled it."
She flinched and looked away, not understanding what had gotten into him today, as she moved out of the kitchen to put food on the breakfast table where Uncle Vernon was already sitting- glaring at her over the top of his newspaper.
"Rose," he greeted stiffly.
She carefully stayed away from him. "Good morning, Uncle Vernon."
He grunted out an acknowledgment. "Get me my coffee, girl."
"Yes, Uncle Vernon."
Aunt Petunia did always get Rose out of trouble, but that only made Dudley and Uncle Vernon hate her more- if that was possible- and therefore did the best they could to punish her without Petunia finding out. It was always in Rose's best interest to stay out of their way, so she quickly went to get the coffee pot and make his coffee perfectly.
And then, she just had to trip and spill half of it, dripping over her fingers and scalding Uncle Vernon's lap. She could have screamed. What did she trip on? There was nothing there! Uncle Vernon jumped out of his chair with a holler and moved like he was going to back hand her until Aunt Petunia's voice was heard.
"Vernon!" She exclaimed desperately. "I'm sure it was just an accident, right, Rose?"
Rose nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sorry."
He grumbled, looking back to his wife and cutting Rose a glare as he went back upstairs to change.
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said nearly an hour later, in an entirely different tone of voice. "Mrs. Figg's gone and broke her leg, said something about rocks in her driveway, she can't watch them."
She glanced worriedly to Rose as Rose glared at Dudley, knowing exactly who was responsible for the rocks in Mrs. Figg's drive. Uncle Vernon pinched his face up in silent rage, his face getting a dark red that was still better than the purple it could have been.
"We could phone Marge," he suggested.
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates them."
"What about your friend- Yvonne?"
But everyone they could think of was busy or not an option. Vernon refused to leave them home or in the new car at the zoo. It looked as though Rose and Harry were going to the zoo, despite Dudley's crying. His friend Piers arrived and they all headed out to the car.
Rose saw Uncle Vernon glance to Petunia to be sure she was preoccupied before pulling her and Harry aside. "I'm warning you now. Any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now to Christmas."
He'd been addressing Harry, but the look he gave Rose was enough to tell her to use her imagination.
It never got much warmer and despite knowing Aunt Petunia would have been appalled and made her change, Rose wished she had tried to sneak out in trousers. The cold didn't stop Dudley from wanting ice cream though, and he and Piers each received a chocolate cone. The woman looked over and asked she and Harry what they would like, but Aunt Petunia interrupted.
"Strawberry," she said quietly. "Strawberry is her favorite."
Rose didn't know what her aunt was talking about. She had never had ice cream, much less, strawberry. How would it be her favorite? But Aunt Petunia was very pointedly not looking at her. So, Rose and Harry got strawberry ice cream, finishing them as the Dursleys lead the way to the Reptile Room. There was still and tension between her and her brother that she didn't understand, but she tried to respect it.
"Make it move," Dudley whined near a large tank where there lay a large snake napping happily on a sunbathed rock. Or, it was meant to look like a sunbathed rock, but Rose knew it was just special lighting and synthetic warmth.
Uncle Vernon knocked against the glass with his knuckles, but there was no movement she could see. Dudley banged his fist against the glass, but still, nothing. He groaned and moved on to the next encasement where a medium sized lizard awaited to be terrorized. Rose followed behind Harry as he moved to talk to the snake, but enough away that he wouldn't notice. It was funny, he was so off today. First, he got upset with her that morning, hadn't talked to her since, and now he was making strange hissing noises. Then, as she walked over to see what was different today, Dudley and Piers ran over to knock Harry away from the glass where the snake had actually been responding.
Then it happened. The glass vanished and if Rose hadn't been watching it herself, she wouldn't have believed it. Harry was doing it again. They had agreed between them not to lose their tempers anymore. Bad things happened when they lost their tempers.
"Harry, are you okay?" She asked him as she tried to help him up and away from the snake that had just slithered past.
The tension that had been between them dissipated and he nodded, still staring after the loose reptile. He grabbed her hand where she would swear her scar warmed and they watched as Dudley became stuck in the tank that had been previously occupied.
"HOW DARE YOU!" Uncle Vernon shouted as soon as Piers left, shoving Harry into the wall hard. "After all that we have done for you, this is how you repay us?!"
Rose tried to run over to them, but Petunia kept a strong grip on her shoulders. She seemed to be shaking. Dudley was deathly silent. Rose jerked out of her aunt's reach and stood in front of her brother as Vernon moved to back hand Harry. He instead got her, making her fall and Aunt Petunia to shriek.
"Stop, Vernon! Please."
Uncle Vernon glared at Rose, his face purple, until he grabbed Harry to push him into his cupboard. Rose was pulled up the stairs to her room where Aunt Petunia fussed over her with tears in her eyes. She left her on the bed as her aunt went to get a cold and wet rag for Rose's busted lip.
When she returned, Rose was looking out of her window that faced Mrs. Figg's house. She could see one of the strange woman's many cats in the living room window, rubbing against the glass. Petunia pulled Rose back over to the bed and made her sit down. Rose hissed the first time the rag touched her lip, still tender.
"You can't keep provoking him like that," Aunt Petunia scolded. "I can't keep protecting you like this."
"What about my brother?" Rose asked, her voice a little higher.
Aunt Petunia frowned, refolding the rag to brush against her swollen lip again. "Don't raise your voice to me."
Rose slapped her hand away lightly. "You do all you can to keep me out of trouble, but you let your son and husband do whatever they want to my brother? What kind of a person is that?"
"He's a bad influence! You never understood that, Lily!"
"I'm not Lily!" Rose shouted.
Aunt Petunia looked stricken by these words, recoiling away from her. She stood abruptly, one hand over her heart and the other holding the rag that she was squeezing so hard water was dripping over her fingers.
"You're right," she whispered. Then she hastily left the room to her own where Rose heard the door slam.
Later that night, Rose snuck downstairs, carefully stepping over the creaky bottom stair, and unlocked Harry's cupboard. He was on his cot and nursing a similar lip to hers and a bruise on his cheek. He looked up when she opened the door, but said nothing as she pulled him by the hand to her room. She shut the door behind them.
"Are you okay?" She asked him.
"I'm sorry about this morning," he told her. "I don't know what came over me. I love you."
She climbed up to perch on the end of her bed. "I love you too, Harry. I'm sorry he hurt you. Are you okay?"
He nodded and hugged his knees. "What happened up here with you? Did she help your lip?"
Rose remembered the somewhat haunted look on her aunt's face and shivered. "Lily," she whispered. "Aunt Petunia called me Lily. I think... I think it might have been our mother's name. Maybe that's why they treat me different. Maybe, maybe you don't look like her, but I do."
She thought back to the dream she often had of the young woman who looked like her. She had the same red hair and green eyes. Rose's bright green eyes, that looked almost too big for her face, were the only things she shared with her twin brother apart from stature.
"That doesn't explain why they hate me so much," Harry mumbled.
No. It didn't.
Nothing of import happened again for many months until after their last day of school and Rose came downstairs to an awful stench. She followed it to the kitchen where Aunt Petunia stood over a metal tub in the sink, stirring something. She wondered if she was trying to cook again. That was never a good thing.
"What is that, Aunt Petunia?" She asked. Her aunt had been more or less ignoring her existence since the outburst in Rose's room.
"It's your brother's new uniform. I'm dying some of Dudley's old clothes gray. It'll be just like everyone else's when I've finished and then you and I need to go pick up yours."
Dudley and Piers were accepted into Smeltings, the old private school Uncle Vernon had attended. Rose and Harry were off to Stonewall High School together, the first time they would be able to get away from Dudley and his gang.
"I didn't realize it had to be so wet," Rose couldn't help but say.
Aunt Petunia glared. "Just go wake Harry."
Harry was already awake and at the table, as were Uncle Vernon and Dudley. Rose had been careful to avoid them as best she could since the incident on Dudley's birthday. This included Harry taking blame once for when Rose burned a batch of biscuits meant for Dudley and his friends. This did not include Dudley and his friends chasing her through the neighborhood while Harry was given extra chores for the burned biscuits.
She heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.
"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said from behind his morning paper.
"Make Harry do it," her cousin grumbled.
"Get the mail, Harry."
Harry threw it back, "Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."
Rose stood from the table on that note. "I'll go get it," she said, avoiding the glare from her uncle.
A postcard lay on the doormat from Vernon's sister, Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wright; as well as some bill from the gas company and two letters addressed to she and her brother. She frowned heavily and ran her eyes over the words several more times. That was ridiculous. Who would be writing to them? Obviously, the same person was writing to the both of them. The envelope was heavy, made of heavy paper the color of cream.
"Hurry up, girl!" Uncle Vernon's voice trailed down the hallway.
She glanced back to be sure no one was there and then back to the envelopes in her hand. If they knew Harry got one, they'd never let him have it. They'd burn it or something. Rose bit her lip and stuffed her brother's letter in the waist band of her pants. She pulled her shirt over it as best she could and went back to the kitchen. She handed the first two to Uncle Vernon and sat down with hers, glancing to Harry with a secret look she hoped he understood.
"Rose has got a letter!" Dudley shouted, snatching it out of her hand and holding it up high above her head, waving it around. She was too short to try jumping for it, and they might see Harry's letter if she did.
"Dudley," Aunt Petunia said, taking the letter from his hands much gentler than he had to Rose. "Don't snatch things from people."
Then she glanced down at the letter she now held and froze- her face much like it had been when Rose shouted at her months ago. A moment passed and Rose could see she was shaking.
"Vernon," she gasped with a hoarse voice. "It's from them."
Vernon's face went red to his neck and he stood from the table, his belly moving the table over. "Out," he said. "All three of you. Go to your rooms."
"What is it?" Rose asked. She was now glad that she had hid Harry's. They seemed identical aside from their first initials and their rooms. Whatever hers said, it stood to reason that's what his would say. "It's my letter."
"DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME!" Vernon bellowed, making Rose shrink into herself and glance to Petunia for a reaction. But Aunt Petunia was still staring at the letter as though she'd been handed the apocalypse.
Rose felt someone grab her hand and looked to see Harry trying to pull her out of the dining area and into the hall where Dudley stood... pouting.
"What's the letter about?" He demanded.
"Well it's not like I got a chance to read it," she snarled.
A moment later Aunt Petunia came into the hall, having obviously been crying. She had her purse slung over her shoulder and a fake smile plastered to her face.
"Rose, how about you go upstairs and get dressed. Then you and I will go get your uniforms for Stonewall."
"What was in the letter," she asked suspiciously.
The smile was wiped from Petunia's face. "You," she said in a direct tone that Rose had only ever heard her take with Harry, "will never mention that letter again. Do I make myself clear?"
Rose almost argued, but she felt the roughness of the envelope's paper against her stomach and thought differently. She would find out anyway. "Yes, Aunt Petunia."
Once she was upstairs, Rose pulled up the corner of her mattress and slid the letter under it for safe keeping until she returned. It wouldn't do for her to get into more hot water with her aunt and uncle for asking about it, when she was obviously in trouble just for having it sent to her. Tonight, she thought to herself. Tonight, Harry and I will read his.
That night, Rose waited an hour after she heard her aunt and uncle turn in for the night before slipping out her bedroom door with the letter. She could hear Dudley snoring through the thin wall between their rooms. She walked as carefully as she could down the steps and around to the cupboard that was surprisingly unlocked. Harry was asleep. Rose sighed and shook him violently until he jerked upright, banging his forehead with hers. She groaned and sat back on her heels, holding her now throbbing head.
"Harry!" She whisper scolded.
He was held his own forehead, rubbing the spot. He turned on the light and she could see a red spot on his skin next to his scar. "Rose! What are you doing in here?"
She held out the letter to him with a grin. "It's yours," she said excitedly. "There were two letters this morning so I hid yours in case they wouldn't let you keep it. They were written by the same person, I think. The envelopes and the writing were the same. Whatever mine said, yours will say."
Harry's eyes widened at the envelope she held in her hands. "It has my cupboard on it!"
"It's yours," she told him, holding it out. He took it gingerly as though it would disintegrate in his hands. She nudged him. "Go on, open it. I want to see what it says."
He popped the purple seal, which displayed a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Then he slowly slid the letter out, slow enough that she just wanted to snatch it back and get it over with.
"Dear Mr. Potter," he read aloud just above a whisper. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
He stopped and they both frowned. Was this a joke? No, that wouldn't explain Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's reactions. Rose took the letter to read the sentence herself and it was as he read. She continued.
"Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than the thirty first of July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall- deputy headmistress." Rose looked to the top of the letter to the Headmaster's name. Supreme Mugwump?
"What does it mean, await our owl?" He asked
She frowned at him. "That's your question?"
He ignored her question and held up the second page to read from. "First years will require three sets of plain work robes (black), one plain black pointed hat for day wear, one pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)."
"Dragon hide?" Rose asked incredulously with something akin to an awed smile.
"One winter cloak, black with silver fastenings. Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags. Hey, Rose, look at the course books."
Rose scooted closer where they could both look. There it was, Standard Book of Spells. A History of Magic. Magical Theory. "What does this mean?" She whispered.
"It has to be some sort of a joke," he said. "That's it. A joke."
"I don't know anyone that creative," she pointed out.
He suddenly grinned. "Wouldn't it be wicked? If we could escape to a world of magic? Imagine, being able to curse Dudley and his gang- curse the Dursley's."
"But not Aunt Petunia," she interrupted.
He looked like he wanted to disagree, but he nodded. "Okay, not Aunt Petunia."
"Dragons," she smiled. "Dragons could be real. Dragons and witches and bubbling cauldrons. Think of the adventures we would have."
"What if it is," he asked. "Things happen to us, strange things. It could explain their reactions. If it was a joke, why did they look so scared?"
Rose frowned to herself. She wasn't sure what to think, but maybe- maybe they could find out more. Maybe someone would know.
Harry kept the letter in his cupboard with him when she finally returned to her room to sleep. She had dreams that didn't last long enough of what a world of magic could be like. Would witches have green skin like Wizard of Oz? She already could deduce they wore pointed hats.
When the mail came the next day, Uncle Vernon told Dudley to get it. He had said nothing to neither Harry or Rose aside from asking Rose to pass the jam. Harry and Rose shared a look, especially when they heard Dudley's voice shout, "There's another one! And Harry's got one too! Mr. H Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs."
Uncle Vernon leapt out of his chair and down the hall with Harry and Rose right behind him. The letter they had read was so odd, she wanted to know if they all said that. Were they all the same? They fought. Or rather, Harry, Dudley, and Uncle Vernon wrestled for the letters until Uncle Vernon pulled away triumphantly.
"Everyone go. Just... go."
He didn't wait to see what they said, but went back to the breakfast area and slammed the doors to cut Rose, Harry and Dudley off. Dudley shoved Harry and Rose aside to press his ear at the door. Harry helped Rose up and they followed suit, only catching bits of the conversation.
"They know where he sleeps," Aunt Petunia's voice said. "Could they be watching the house?"
"Watching," Uncle Vernon said wildly. "Spying... might be following us!"
Rose lay on her stomach to look and listen at the crack between the door and floor. She could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pace. Aunt Petunia's heels seemed to be frozen in place. "What should we do? Should we write them back? Tell them that we don't want-"
"No," Uncle Vernon interrupted. "We'll ignore them. Yes.. if they don't get an answer-"
"But-"
"I won't have them in the house, Petunia!" He shouted. "Didn't we swear when we took them in that we'd put a stop to that dangerous nonsense? Harry and Rose-"
"It isn't her fault," Aunt Petunia cried. "Please, it isn't her. He's the bad influence just like-"
Uncle Vernon's shoes started towards the closed door and Rose scrambled away, pulling Harry away from the door as well. It opened and his breathing was in pants as he had over exerted himself.
"Dudley, go play. You too, Rose."
Rose went to refuse and ask about the letters, but she could see Aunt Petunia behind Uncle Vernon, shaking her head. Rose closed her mouth and went over to her aunt.
"You look nice in your dress," Petunia forced out. "Let's you and me go get you a new one."
Rose didn't understand the sudden change. Uncle Vernon looked as though he were attempting to smile at Harry and Petunia was smiling at her. She and Aunt Petunia were somewhat closer than the rest of the family, but not like this. Was she trying to keep Rose's mind off of the letters? She had to talk to Harry. They had learned more after reading the letter and hearing their relatives conversation.
But the look on her aunt's face was so desperate. Rose looked back to Harry, who nodded.
"Okay," she said slowly.
They bought Rose a new dress. Then Aunt Petunia insisted on another. And another. After they left the dress shop, Aunt Petunia took Rose to lunch where she let Rose choose whatever she wanted to eat. She felt guilty for enjoying the day, all the while being suspicious of it. Aunt Petunia had never showed her this much affection, always having been careful to show Dudley more. This was rivaling the attention Dudley got.
When they returned home, there was a second bed in Rose's bedroom, much smaller than hers but still better than a cot. And Harry sat on it, holding a book of Dudley's that was on a bookshelf in the room.
"Uncle Vernon told me to move up here with you," he explained. "Probably because the letter had the cupboard on it."
"That's great," she grinned. Then she didn't. "Aunt Petunia seemed really scared today."
She sighed and set her bags down. Harry scooted over to make room for her. "Maybe... maybe the letter was real. They were acting like it could be."
"I don't know," she answered. "But, what can we do? Uncle Vernon said they could be watching the house. And, they resent the letters. Maybe they'll keep at it until we find out the truth."
Maybe.
The letters kept coming. Uncle Vernon had taken to sleeping in front of the door to prevent them from getting one. Then, he boarded up the mail slot. It didn't stop them. Letters were slipped under the door, slotted in the sides, and even stuffed in a small window downstairs. Uncle Vernon then boarded up all the cracks in the doors and windows that he could find. Letters were burned, ripped, and some even pushed through a food processor. Letters came rolled up and hidden inside eggs.
Then... the day of the fireplace happened. Throughout this entire ordeal, Rose and Harry stayed up late imagining this fantasy world. Harry wanted ghosts. Rose wanted mermaids. Harry wondered if three course meals could come in candy. Rose thought of trees that could talk, plants that could tell you how much water they needed, flowers that could sing you lullabies.
Aunt Petunia smothered Rose in affection; baking biscuits together, teaching Rose how to cross stitch, how to sew, how to crochet. She spent time in the mornings helping Rose with her hair. Rose couldn't help but wonder what her aunt was trying to do. Why she was trying to hold on to her so tightly.
But on Sunday, Uncle Vernon had just commented about the absence of post when no less than fifty letters came shooting from the fireplace. Harry had jumped in the air hoping to grab one only to be dragged away by Uncle Vernon, tossed into the hall way. Rose had knelt down in hopes of getting one that had already landed on the floor. Aunt Petunia grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out into the hallway behind Uncle Vernon, Harry and Dudley.
They took a moment to breathe, the paper cuts on Rose's face stinging. Uncle Vernon huffed for a few moments before saying suddenly, "That does it. I want you all back here in five minutes, ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"
It felt like something was coming. That the raging storm of the letters and the mystery surrounding them were coming to an end. She and Harry bounded upstairs to gather their things. Rose watched as Harry was sure to pack the letter under his meager pile of clothing. Rose packed all of her clothes and her blanket with the cross stitch Aunt Petunia had been helping her with. Ten minutes later, they all piled into the car to leave Private Drive.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Potters," a woman said the next morning at breakfast.
They had driven all day the day before, not stopping once to eat or rest. No one dared ask where they were going or what they were doing. No one said anything aside from incoherent muttering on Uncle Vernon's part. Occasionally, Aunt Petunia would send a worried look into the backseat at Rose, but she was always quick to turn back around when Rose saw it.
They had finally, after whining from Dudley, stopped at an inn on the outskirts of some big city. Harry and Dudley shared a musty room with two twin beds, and in another room with two twin beds, Uncle Vernon took one and Aunt Petunia insisted on sharing the other with Rose.
The woman who approached them, who turned out to be the owner, held two familiar letters in her hand. "It's only that, I've about a 'undred of these at the front desk."
They left quickly after that, driving even more madly than the day before. Uncle Vernon would stop somewhere, the middle of a forest, a plowed field, or halfway across a suspension bridge. He would get out, glance around, shake his head, and get back in the car for them to keep going. They finally drove to the coast as it began to rain. He locked them all in the car and walked off.
"If anything happens," Aunt Petunia said, not looking at anyone in particular, "anything strange, stay behind me. Just, stay with me."
The last bit was whispered and Rose wasn't sure who she was talking to. When Uncle Vernon returned, he had a long thin box and a beaming face that made Rose nervous. He had everyone get out of the car and pointed up to a hut on a rock just away from shore. Uncle Vernon ushered them into a rowboat ferried by a toothless old man. The rain was harsh, and icy, but Uncle Vernon never lost the mad grin.
The inside of the sad little house smelled moldy and wet. Uncle Vernon gave each of them a bag of chips and a banana, using the trash from it to start a fire.
"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he asked over his shoulder in a teasing matter.
Rose was sure that she very nearly hated him in that moment.
He stayed in a good mood through nightfall when a great storm raged outside. There was no way someone could get a letter to them now. Rose was saddened by this thought until she remembered the letter at the bottom of Harry's bag. Still, it was Harry's letter. Not hers. Aunt Petunia found some moldy blankets and distributed them before she and Uncle Vernon turned in for the night in the only bedroom.
Long after everyone else was asleep, Harry and Rose pulled out the letter and reread it again as they had each night since they got it, just to reinforce that it was real. Even if they still remained unsure about the legitimacy of the contents. Then, when Dudley's glow in the dark watch read midnight, Harry drew a cake in the dirt floor of the shack with eleven candles.
"Happy Birthday, Rosie," he whispered to her.
"Happy Birthday, Harry," she whispered back.
And they both blew the dirt cake away with the same wish in their minds. A wish, that wasn't a wish, but more of a feeling. That something would happen. Anything. And then... it did.
A/N: Okay, so, I know there are a lot of 'Harry has a sister' stories. But, I feel like if Lily had had a daughter that looked like Lily, Petunia would have treated her different that they did Harry. Despite everything, Petunia loved her sister. In this I think of it as Petunia looking at Rose as a surrogate for Lily. A chance to re do and fix her relationship with her sister. So, here it happened. Petunia loves Rose. This will trend will continue through all of the books and I will be continuing this story to the end. Tell me what you think. She will end up with Draco. I think. I am almost positive about that. I have plans for her character and her relationships and events that will happen.
THIS IS STILL HARRY'S STORY! This is just Rose's story alongside and in the background of his. She will not have the same wand core as he and Voldemort. She will not be a Chosen One. She will not be entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament with him. She will have friends outside of he and his. This is Rose's story, but still Harry's quest and journey.
Dasvidanya, Juliet.