It had been four years since Voldemort's death, and Harry was very happy with his life. He married Ginny nine months ago. He was a successful junior auror, she was a proud Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, and they lived comfortably in Grimmauld Place.

The last time Harry had given his relatives, the Dursleys, more than a passing thought, was two weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, when he had helped transport them from their safe house to a new home, not far from where their house at Number 4 Privet Drive once stood. They had all grumbled about their time in the wizarding world (although, Hestia had assured Harry that they were well-taken care of), and Petunia was horrified to hear that Death Eaters had destroyed their house.

Dudley had been surprisingly polite and uncomplaining. Dudley did not seem interested in repeating the one moment in which he had expressed his concern for Harry. So Harry dropped the family off at their new house uneventfully, and that was the last he had seen of them.

All of this to say, Harry Potter was very surprised when Rudolf Hutton, one of the highest-ranking aurors in the Ministry ran into him in the hall and asked, "Have you heard about the Dursleys?"

"No," Harry answered, "I haven't talked to them in years."

Auror Hutton frowned, "I thought I sent someone down to tell you." Hutton was a very forgetful wizard, so it was likely that he had written it down on one of his many scrolls and then given it no thought since. He was a no-nonsense kind of person, who demanded perfection from every one of his subordinates, even when his instructions failed to be conveyed. "They've been attacked."

"They've what?" Harry exclaimed.

Hutton quickly explained, "They are all fine now, but yesterday their house exploded. They weren't inside. Since they are your relatives, we have kept an eye on them, and so that is how we know that a witch or wizard is responsible."

"A witch or wizard?" Harry could not contain his surprise. "Do you think a Death Eater did it?"

Although Voldemort had died several years ago, many of his supporters had escaped capture. There were those who still believed the Dark Lord could be resurrected yet again, and even more who simply had no interest in returning to normal lives.

"Either that or one of your fans," Hutton answered, "The story of your childhood is widely known, and so we're considering that someone may be trying to seek revenge on your behalf."

Harry gasped, "I don't want that."

Hutton nodded. "You're a good man, Harry Potter. Go talk to Marina Pierce. She has been trying to get in touch with you to figure out what to do with them. And don't forget to have that report on my desk by Monday."

With absolutely no clue what report he was talking about, Harry nodded and walked off in the opposite direction. He found Marina Pierce, a deputy head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, in her office, surrounding my other Ministry employees, whom she dismissed immediately. Although Harry had never met Marina Pierce before, he observed immediately that she seemed to be a grumpy, middle-aged witch, and judging by the cats pictures on her walls, not far removed from Dolores Umbridge.

"Potter, there you are," she snapped, "I have your relatives."

"I heard," he said, "What can I do to help?"

"We've got Obliviators and members of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee on the ground, trying to convince the muggles that whatever happened was normal to them."

"What did happen?" Harry asked.

"We are still investigating," she responded briskly, "For now, we just need somewhere for the Dursleys to stay where they will be safe. We can't put them up in a hotel; it needs to be somewhere protected. Nasty people, by the way. They didn't seem to care one bit that we've been watching them for their own protection."

"I don't imagine they would," said Harry, "so what can you do with them?"

Pierce glared at him through her large pink glasses. "They are your relatives, aren't they? You're responsible for them now."

"Me? Can't someone else-"

"Potter, our resources are stretched thin," she snapped, "You need to find somewhere for them to go."

Harry knew better than to argue with that tone, so he just nodded while Pierce explained the rest of the plan. Satisfied, Pierce rose from her chair and directed Harry's attention to a door in her wall. She explained that they were waiting in another room, and he needed to pick them up. Without another word, she sat back down and called the others back into her room.

Harry stepped into the other room. The door snapped shut behind him and then disappeared.

Vernon and Petunia sat stiffly on a couch, while Dudley stood, examining newspaper clippings on the walls. All three turned when Harry entered the room. Although Harry's aunt and uncle seemed angry, Dudley's face betrayed no emotion.

"Boy, what have you done?" Vernon snarled, "Our house was destroyed by your lot."

"What do the neighbors think?" Petunia shrieked.

"The neighbors, er, they think you're dead," Harry explained. Then he realized what a poor hello that was.

Petunia sat down. Concerned, Vernon put a hand on her shoulder.

"Right, er, I'm really sorry about your house. I promise that the Ministry of Magic is trying to find whoever did it," Harry said, trying to seem confident and reassuring. Judging by their facial expressions, he was not succeeding. "There are still dangerous wizards out there who might try to get at me by hurting you," Harry explained. "We think it's best if you start a new life somewhere else. We're working on creating new identities and finding you a new place to live."

"Look at all the trouble you've caused, boy," Vernon growled. "If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened to us."

Dudley rolled his eyes. "Dad, if it weren't for Harry, we'd be dead. That's why we went into hiding in the first place, remember? We're in danger."

"We're in danger because of him!"

Harry cut in, "And I really am sorry about that. I promise I'm trying to get your lives back as normal and ordinary as possible. It will just take a few weeks, maybe two months."

"Two months!" Petunia gasped.

"What will we do until then?" Vernon demanded.

"You'll have to stay with me," Harry admitted. "Don't worry, I have a large house. My godfather left it to me. And you can still go into town - in London - and go about your business, just come back to the house so that I know you're safe."

This announcement did not go over well, but ultimately the Dursleys had no other choice.