Alright, Chapter 3! Who would've ever thought I'd make it to this point?

Also, I noticed a lot of typos in the last chapter after I already posted it, so I apologize for that!

Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to JK Rowling.

Come Monday, Harry knew that his family had forgotten about him again. It hurt with an intensity he hadn't felt since he was a bit younger- he had actually interacted with them for the first time in years and had almost hoped his presence would stick. However, Harry also knew that this was for the better. Yes, Harry was hurt, but he was glad for it. Harry knew that he was still a long ways away from forgiving his family properly, and them being suddenly reintroduced in the middle of his healing process wouldn't be healthy for him.

Harry knows now that their affection is dangerous for him. That little while he was in their presence he could feel himself softening himself to them, and they didn't get that. They don't deserve it- not yet. Harry deserves to forgive them- the peace that would come with it- and being around them in the middle of the process would undermine whatever resentment or lingering anger he is working on abolishing. He doesn't want to have a surface level relationship with his family- he wants true peace with them, and that can only be reached once Harry fully forgives them. If he warms up to them when he still harbors resentment, their relationship would ultimately crash and fail. This would defeat the purpose of trying to forgive them in the first place.

While Harry can't be around his family yet, he needs one last thing from them. They promised to enroll him in school today, and that is one of the things for which Harry is willing to go to them. Knowing that he needs to catch his parents before they can go to work, Harry made sure to wake up early this morning.

Harry dressed in his usual clothes- a jumper and pants made lovingly by Milly. He paused in his doorway to take a deep breath before plunging into his home. Knowing that he would lose what little confidence he has if he strolls, Harry speeds through the halls and down stairwells until he takes pause in front of the kitchen door. Taking one more inhale of composure, Harry straightens up and firmly opens the kitchen door to stride inside.

James and Lily are seated at the table while Popsy and Mitsy zoom around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the Potters- breakfast that is usually brought to him around seven, his normal wake up time. While his parents haven't spotted Harry yet, Mitsy and Popsy turn to Harry simultaneously, their faces brightening drastically.

"Harry! It's a bit early for you, honey, what are you doing up?" Mitsy asks, glancing nervously to Lily and James, whose heads whipped to the door at Mitsy's exclamation.

Before his parents can ask the same thing, Harry answers Mitsy.

"Mother and Father are enrolling me into Primary School today," Harry said, making sure to look to James and Lily before adding, "and I know that you two go to work in an hour or so, so I decided to get up early so we can get this ride rolling."

"Ah, yes," James jumped in, leaping from his chair and bounding to the door, "I just have to get your papers and then we can go," he called back, leaving a stunned Lily in his wake.

"Indeed, darling, just let me go get dressed," she told Harry, pausing next to him as if to brush his hair from his face before she thought better of it as she glides past him to the door.

A rush of air leaves Harry as his false calm flees madly, leaving him to deflate into the nearest chair.

"Al… alright. It's happening. I'm integrating with the muggle world," Harry says, running a hand through his messy hair and down his face. The smile forming on his face threatens to split his cheeks as he thinks of all he's going to learn and do.

"So many new opportunities and possibilities- so many new activities and skills!" Harry's voice is growing steadily more and more excited as he turns to Mitsy and Popsy.

Popsy chuckles while preparing a plate of the now completed breakfast for Harry, setting it in front of Harry as his excited ranting continues.

"-and I could also explore muggle London before coming home and I could pick up new hobbies and meET NEW PEOPLE AND I'LL MAKE FRIENDS AND FIND MY OWN PLACES AND LIVE LI-"

"Harry James Potter, you eat your breakfast right now," Milly interrupts Harry, popping into existence next to him.

"It's much too early for such enthusiasm," she further grumbles, slumping against Harry's side as she shoves him to the side to share his chair, "I am very glad they decided to let you go, though," she continues, her head now resting on his shoulder.

"I never really expected them to say no," Popsy cuts in, "they did, after all, make sure that your Aunt, Sister, and I can speak proper English. You expressing your wish for further education almost even seems like it could have been their idea."

"Yes, they do seem to value the right to education," Harry agrees, digging into his breakfast while forcing Milly to eat some between his bites.

A few minutes later, James and Lily stride into the kitchen, seemingly ready to go.

"Alright, Harry, let's head... out?" James confidently calls out, deflating slightly in confusion at seeing Milly and Harry draped together.

"Master James has yet to eat his breakfast!" Popsy protests, "Mistress Lily as well!" she continues, firmly placing two plates full of an english breakfast on the table.

"Er, yes, Mitsy," James stutters out, "you are, of course, correct."

"We'll leave in a bit, then, Harry, dear," Lily says, sitting down in front of her plate.

"That is agreeable," Harry says, detaching himself from Milly as he stands, "Will Evan wake up in our absence, or will he be okay?" he asks, looking to his parents with an almost stern expression.

Startled by his nearly sharp tone, James and Lily frown.

"No, he should be awake around eight or nine," Lily says, eyebrows furrowing.

"Do his lessons with the Headmaster not begin today?" Harry inquires, confusion coloring his voice. "Should he not be waking soon to prepare himself?"

"Oh, no, his lessons with Albus will not begin until next week. Even then, they will be evening lessons, five to eight," Lily tells him, "so that James and I can be present, if need be."

"Ah. Understood." Harry frowns to himself, having expected the lessons to be a bit more vigorous than three hours.

Harry takes his plate to the sink and washes it, placing it on the dish rack. Turning to his parents, he says, "I will be in the fourier when you two are ready."

With a nod, he sweeps from the room, ignoring his parents rather baffled expressions.

As Harry walks through the house, he breathes deeply, inhaling courage and exhaling timidity. He reaches the fourier and sits on the loveseat, calming himself with breathing exercises.

About ten minutes later, James and Lily walk in.

"Alright, bud, let's get rolling," James exclaims, bounding toward the door.

Walking outside, Lily turns slightly toward Harry and gives him a warm smile.

"Okay, honey, where did you say this school is?"

"It is in Hampstead Village, and the school is called Phoenix School. It is a coed private school that offers the best to its students," Harry replies, excited for this opportunity.

"Sounds very impressive," Lily agrees, coming to a halt at the road at the end of their winding walkway.

James pulls out his wand a calls for the Knight Bus.

The tall bus zips into existence, zooming down the road only to lurch to an abrupt stop in front of the trio. The door swings open and a nasally voice meets their ears.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, I'm Mike Shunpike, and where will you be going this fine day?" Mike Shunpike says, offering a smile to Lily, who has gone pale.

"We will be going to Hampstead Village, Phoenix School, to be specific, Mike," James answers, a teasing grin lighting his face when he notices Lily's look of apprehension.

"Take it away Ernie!"

They move to the back of the bus, gripping tightly to the bars that they pass. Minutes later, they're slamming to a stop, clinging to their seats- James laughing, Lily squeaking.

Harry stands immediately and makes his way to the doors.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Shunpike," Harry says to the conductor as he passes, smiling sincerely before departing to the curb outside.

"Nice kid you have there. My Stan is much more rough around the edges," Mike grins at James and Lily.

"Yes, he is awfully polite, isn't he?" James answers, looking to Harry, who is waiting with his hands folded behind his back, a polite light smile on his face as he greets a passing muggle.

"Thank you for safe passage, my friend. Have a wonderful day," James says as he exits the bus, Lily following with echoed sentiments despite her greenish complexion.

"The school is this way," Harry says, walking up the street a ways and stopping in front of a large window-covered brick building surrounded by wrought iron fences.

"Hm. Regal," James says, patting Harry's shoulder before grabbing Lily's hand and walking through the courtyard to the school.

Harry smiles and walks behind them, gazing around at his next four years.

They make their way into the building and follow prompts on the walls to the main office. Walking in, they are met with a bubbly young woman no older than 25.

"Hello, how are you guys doing today?" she asks, smiling brightly at the family.

"Fantastic, and yourself?" Lily smiles, her color normal once again.

"I'm doing particularly well myself, thank you! How can I help you today?" she asks.

"We would like to enroll our son in your school, please," James answers, smiling politely at the young woman.

"Wonderful! I'll just go get Headmaster Wilson and get the proper registration paperwork in order!"

With that, she bustled from the room, coming back moments later with an old man and a short stack of papers.

"Hello. I am Headmaster Philip Wilson," the old man introduced himself, smiling warmly at the trio before zoning in on Harry.

"And you must be our new pupil, young man," he says, smiling widely at the intelligent spark he found in Harry's gaze.

"Yes sir, I am," Harry smiles back at the man, charmed by his warmth, "I am Harry Potter, and these are my Parents, Lily and James Potter. I am very, very excited to join your school, sir."

"Well, Mr. Potter, I can already tell you are going to fit in with our young minds very well," he shoots one last smile at Harry before turning to Lily and James, "Mr. and Mrs. Potter, would you like to step into my office to sort out your son's registration and tuition?"

"Of course, Headmaster Wilson," they agreed, leaving the room with Headmaster Wilson.

"Hello, Miss, I'm afraid I do not know your name," Harry says, searching her desk for a name plate and coming up empty.

"Oh, yes, I am Mrs. Roberts, Harry! I recently got married, so my name plate is in the process of being updated," she smiled at him warmly reaching her hand out for a hand shake.

Taking her hand, Harry smiles brightly back at Mrs. Roberts.

"Oh, congratulations!" He shakes her hand, patting the back of her hand with a sincere smile.

"Thank you, honey, that's very kind of you!" she says, walking back to sit at her desk while Harry takes a seat at one of the chairs across from her desk.

"So, Harry, how old are you?"

"I turned 7 about a week ago. I truly can't wait to begin school in the fall, ma'am, I've been wanting to attend this school in particular for quite some time!" Harry can't help but allow his excitable enthusiasm to leak into his voice.

"I am very glad you're with us, then, Harry. What are you most excited about?" she replies, affection gripping her when Harry immediately swells up, his face somehow brightening even more.

"Oh, how could I choose? The classes will be so much more advanced than I am used to, I can join a music class or a sports team, I can pick up new hobbies, and- oh, Mrs. Roberts I'm just so excited for all the new opportunities I am now presented with. I grew up in a big house far away from any other people, so the environment change is one that I am anticipating with high hopes. And friends. I hope to make friends," Harry rants, finally taking a breath and looking to Mrs. Roberts with a wide grin.

The secretary is almost in tears for how precious Harry is being.

"Well, you certainly came to the correct place, then, Harry. If you don't mind me asking, what specific extracurriculars are you interested in?"

"Well… I wanted to give everything a try, if I could. I definitely want to pick up an instrument, but I would like to try all that are available to me before I pursue actual lessons in one of them. As for sports teams, I don't have any particular knowledge on any this school offers. What do you offer, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks, looking to the beaming secretary.

"Well, we have a few actual teams offered to both girls and boys such as football, cricket, rugby, ice hockey, tennis, and basketball. We have a few non-competing clubs for those sports as well as a running club and a self defense course. Various different work out groups as well as some fun offerings through other clubs such as the British Boy and Girl Scouts!"

"Oh wow," Harry exhales, giddy at all the options, "That's quite a bit! I am interested in football as well as the self defense course. Perhaps the running club or this British Boy Scouts group you mentioned, as well. Anyways, any book clubs or Student Governments would also be interesting. I was also hoping to find local book shop to maybe help out around in exchange for meager money or books… if they're willing to use a seven year old," Harry adds with a self deprecating chuckle.

"That sounds like a full plate, there, Harry," Mrs. Roberts responds with concern, "Are you sure you're ready for all of that?"

"Oh, I was born ready and have spent every moment since birth in preparation for this moment… the anticipation has been great," Harry replied with a small smile.

"And intense, it seems," she smiles, "There is a book shop not far from here, The Page Turner, with a kind old man who has been looking for some help… maybe you could check there?"

"I will as soon as possible, thank you very much, Mrs. Roberts!" he responds, his smile growing as his parents and Headmaster Wilson step out from the office.

"Alright, there, Mr. Potter, it seems to be time for you to pick which courses you would like to take," Headmaster Wilson addresses Harry.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Harry grimaces and turns back to Headmaster Wilson with an apologetic smile.

"Actually, Headmaster, my parents need to be getting to work," as he says this, Lily and James startle and check their watches with groans of dismay, "perhaps we could meet at a later time so I may check out the offerings for courses and clubs?"

"Perfectly reasonable, young man, perfectly reasonable indeed. Here is the phone number, extension included, to my office, and you can call when you have available time, yes?" the Headmaster smiles, handing Harry a card with his contact information.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you, Headmaster," Harry shakes the Headmasters hand and turns back to Mrs. Roberts as his parents exchange farwells with the Headmaster.

"Thank you for all of your help today, Mrs. Roberts, it has been a spectacular day- the first of the rest of my life, I reckon," Harry smiles, reaching for a hand shake.

Mrs. Roberts smiles at Harry before hugging him.

"You are a very special boy, Harry, I can tell. You are going to be great here," she pulls back, ruffling Harry's hair with a large grin.

As the Potters leave the office, Harry turns one last time.

"And congratulations, once again, Mrs. Roberts. Your husband is a lucky man," he smiles again before turning to hurry after his parents.

"What a wonderful young man," the Headmaster says as he turns to share a smile with his friend.

.~*~.

Later that day, Harry called the school and set an appointment with Headmaster Wilson at 3:00 for next Monday. Giddy from finalizing the last step to his integration, Harry called out for Milly.

A moment later, a note from Milly popped into existence in front of Harry informing him that she is in the kitchen cooking dinner if he wanted to talk.

Grinning, Harry ran all the way to the kitchen, skidding through the door to a stop in the entrance. Looking around, he found Milly reaching for some flour from the cupboard.

"MILLY!" Harry exclaimed, sprinting to her and grabbing her up in a bear hug.

Giggling, Milly turned around to return the hug.

"Has muggle school gotten you excited, again?" she asked, grinning at his answering squeal.

"I just set up my meeting with the Headmaster to make my schedule," Harry gushed, his hand movements bordering on frantic, "it is next Monday at 3:00, do you want to try apperating me there?"

Milly lit up like a lumos and nodded vigorously, squealing in excitement.

"You're going to get it perfect, sis, I know it," Harry smiled, reaching up and grabbing the flour Milly had previously been stretching for. "What're you making?" he asked, moving to the other ingredients.

"I'm making fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and chocolate cake for dessert," she listed, ticking off her fingers as she went.

"Rather American inspired, I see," Harry says, an eyebrow raised, "I call making the chicken and mashed potatoes," he raised a hand and grinned when Milly spluttered.

"I think not, you jerk face, I will be making the mashed potatoes," she says, but falters when she sees Harry pouting. Sighing, Milly rolls her eyes, "Okay, butt head, how about this: I make the mashed potatoes and green beans, you make the chicken, and we'll both make the cake?" she asks, struggling to keep her smile from her face when she sees Harry deliberating.

"Hm… counter offer, I make the chicken, you make the green beans, mashed potatoes and cake, btu I get to make the frosting and decorate the cake."

Once again rolling her eyes, Milly sighs exasperatedly and nods, receiving a whoop from Harry. Smiling fondly, she turns back to the ingredients, this time joined by Harry.

They move in sync around the kitchen, making a delicious dinner with blind grace. An hour later, the food is ready and the cake is in the oven.

"Nice- I'm going to make the frosting now, then we can eat in my room until the cake is ready for decoration?" Harry asks, a thumb pointed over his shoulder to indicate his room.

"Not eating with your darling family tonight?" she asks sarcastically, less inclined to like the Potters than her parents are.

Smiling at her, Harry shakes his head.

"Ah, Milly, your ability to hold a grudge for me is as charming as ever," he smirks, throwing an arm over her shoulder and bumping hips with her.

"I just don't get how you don't hate them… I can't even try to put myself in your shoes- Mom and Dad could never forget about me or you! The fact that you're trying to forgive them is amazing, they just do not deserve you," she scowls, crossing her arms and turning to burrow into Harry, both taking and offering comfort.

Harry sighs and pulls her closer as if they've had this conversation a million times.

"Mills, you know forgiving them is the only thing that will give me peace. I can't turn my back on them- they're my family. Family is unconditional love. Loving them while feeling that anger, that hurt, is not healthy for me, you know? For example, loving you is the easiest thing in the world," Harry continues, looking down to press a kiss onto Milly's head, "and I feel the same with Aunt Mitsy and Uncle Popsy."

Harry frowns and looks away, "However, loving my human family is harder. I love them all- Uncles Sirius and Remus included- but they've caused an almost irreparable hurt in me. I love them, but I also resent them for causing so much pain in my thus far short life. These emotions cannot be reconciled with one another- I can't go on forever feeling this amount of love for someone while at the same time resenting them. I need to cleanse myself of one of them to move on. I can choose to move on with resentment in my body, letting my anger rule me, or I can choose to move on with love in my body, eight family members by my side. Do you get it?" Harry asks almost desperately, clutching onto Milly tighter to him.

Sighing, Milly relaxes her tight shoulders, hugging Harry back.

"I understand, Harry. But understand this- I cannot forgive them for the pain they've caused you. Yes, they are my masters. Yes, they are respectable people. However, you are my brother. I love you unconditionally. Perhaps one day, if you've forgiven them and their behavior has drastically changed, I can forgive them, but not any time soon. I am your defense squad, do you get it?" she finishes her speech, breath coming out hard and fists clenching into the fabric of the sweater she made Harry.

Harry's eyes fill with tears and he clutches Milly somehow tighter to him than he had been previously. Such a declaration of love is off brand for Milly, but it seems the changing atmosphere in the Potter household is getting to her.

"Yeah, sis, I get it," Harry smiles and clears his throat to banish his misty eyes before straightening up.

"Let's go eat."

.~*~.

The week went by in a blur of studying, leisure reading, and venturing to the public library for muggle academic materials. When Monday came, Harry woke up with a bright smile on his face and a bounce in his step.

Popsy brought him breakfast and lunch in his room while he was studying, halfway through his Mother's second year's worth of reading material.

Having found it difficult to concentrate on his reading since 2:00, Harry finally got sick of waiting around and bound out of his room to the East Wing's sitting room, which is where Milly should be if she was on schedule, at 2:40.

"MILLS, ARE YOU READY TO TRY APPER-," he called out as he entered the sitting room only to cut himself off when he saw Evan and his friends, Neville and Susan Bones, all staring wide eyed at Harry.

"-er, uh, hey, uh, Evan, Neville, Susan, how are you all doing today," Harry stutters, nervously fiddling with his sleeves and actively avoiding eye contact.

"Harry! We're doing great, would you like to join us for hot chocolate and chess?" Evan snaps out of his shock and grins at Harry, desperately wanting his brother to stay with them despite his friends' confused expressions.

Harry smiles a barely noticeable smile but shakes his head no, "I'm sorry, Evan, I can't right now, I have something planned with Milly for this afternoon… but… thank you for the invitation." Harry offers one more apologetic smile before diving out of the room before Evan can protest.

Harry swiftly walks to the nearest doored room and shuts it tightly after him, calling for Milly.

She pops into existence along with Mitsy, who appears to be lecturing Milly.

"Now, Milly, I told you I have to supervise this, you've never apperated so far, child, you could hurt yourself and your brother," she scolds, turning to Harry.

"Harry, dear, are you ready for your meeting with Headmaster Wilson?"

"So ready, Aunt Mitsy. I've never been this excited in my whole life!" Harry exclaims, gripping her hands and jumping up and down, squealing all the while.

Chuckling, Mitsy nods and turns back to Milly.

"Let's go, honey," she says reaching out one hand to Milly, "just imagine clearly the alleyway and the three of us there. Don't let your mind wander, put all of your concentration into this."

Nodding, Milly grabs Harry's other hand and closes her eyes tightly. A moment later, they popped into existence in the alleyway a block from the school, all limbs intact and whole. Milly laughs shakily, smiling when her mother praises her for her hard work.

Checking his watch, Harry sees that he needs to start toward the school.

"Okay, guys, I don't know how long this meeting should take, so I'll just come back here when it's done and call for you?" he says, directing his question at Milly.

"My summoning radar isn't that developed yet, I will not be able to feel your call all the way at the manor. Call Mom instead, and I'll come get you," Milly grudgingly admits, smiling when Harry nods and bids them farewell.

"Good luck, bro!" she calls after him.

"Thanks, sis!" he calls back over his shoulder, his grin brightening the whole alley.

Turning back to face forward, Harry speed walks toward the school, the watch on his wrist slowly getting closer to 3:00. At 2:55, Harry enters the school and makes his way to the main office.

"Harry!" Mrs. Roberts exclaims, smiling widely from her desk, "How have you been, honey?"

"Mrs. Roberts, it's great to see you again! And I've been just fine, feeling the anticipation for this meeting all week, really," Harry admits, a grin stretching over his face.

"I bet you have been," she agrees, reaching for the phone on her desk, "I'll just let him know you're here."

Nodding, Harry sits at a chair and waits patiently.

Mrs. Roberts hangs up the phone.

"He'll be ready for you in a few minutes, Harry," she smiles at him before slightly frowning, "Harry, honey, where are your parents?"

"O-oh, they are, uh, at work right now, so I called my Aunt Mitsy to drop me off. She told me to meet her at the thrift store down the street when the meeting is done," Harry lied, cursing himself for not remembering how odd it is for a seven year old to meet with his school sans guardian.

"Ah," Mrs. Roberts conveys her understanding with a vocalized sigh. Clearing her throat, she asks Harry, "Have you found The Page Turner yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm planning on exploring the city today, get a scope of it for the upcoming years," Harry replies, his enthusiasm endearing himself to her.

"That sounds wonderful, honey. There's a few cute little places I'm sure you'd love," she smiles, falling for the charming boy in front of her.

"I'm definitely most excited for The Page Turner, I love books more than most things in life. I can't wait to meet the man who runs the store," Harry gushes, "I hope he'll like me well enough to tolerate me hanging around!"

"Don't worry, Hare, he'll sense your love for literature immediately. That'll endear you more than your lovely personality could- and that's saying something," she smiles warmly at Harry as he blushes under her praises.

"Thanks Mrs. Roberts, I sure hope so," Harry trails off, lost in thought.

The next few moments are spent in silence as Mrs. Roberts smiles and Harry thinks.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, how lovely to see you again!" Headmaster Wilson makes himself known with his enthusiasm.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Harry smiles up at the Headmaster and stands up, offering his hand for a shake.

"Yes, it is rather pleasant, Headmaster! How have you been? Well, I hope?" Harry asks as he shakes Headmaster Wilson's hand.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, certainly excited for our meeting! Let's step into my office to plan your upcoming year, shall we?" the Headmaster indicates his office with a nod of his head and moves toward it at Harry's nod.

Entering his office, Harry immediately gets a sense of who the Headmaster is with his decorations. The office is filled with mahogany furniture, a large leather chair and many bookcases filled with the classics. Many portraits hang around the office, including one portraying a beautiful woman holding the hands of two small children that must be of the Headmaster's family. The office is classy and stately, but having its touches of relaxed decorum such as the bobblehead on the corner of the Headmaster's desk and the record player in the corner with a Prince record resting under the needle.

On top of the Headmaster's warm demeanor, the classy office with eccentric twists only makes Harry like the Headmaster more than he already had.

"Alright, Harry, take a seat, and we can figure out your schedule for the upcoming school year. You are a Year 3 student, so you get to choose between three courses per subject that you wish to take, does this sound fair to you?" the Headmaster asks Harry, briefly looking up from the papers he had been shuffling through to catch Harry's nod.

"Lovely."

"I do not have a lot of experience with schools, Headmaster, but this is not the way I thought primary schools were organized. Please do not misunderstand me- I am very excited to be able to choose my own courses, but do most schools not just place the student in the set courses for the year of school in which they are participating?" Harry asks, confused by his control over the situation.

"Yes, that is the way many schools go about scheduling their students, but we here at the Phoenix School wish to grant our students the ability to choose what they want to study while still satisfying the variety of subjects that students must learn. Because we are a private school, the common core does not apply to us as it does to the public schools who teach similar subjects, do you understand?" the Headmaster asks.

"Yes, Headmaster, that makes perfect sense. I imagine that being able to choose what you study gives a certain amount of satisfaction to the students that somewhat alleviates laziness," Harry reasons, liking this school more and more by the minute.

"Yes, indeed it does," the Headmaster confirms, pleasantly surprised by the level of intelligence and logic shown by the 7 year old standing in front of him.

A moment passes by with silence only pierced by the sound of Headmaster Wilson shuffling through papers.

"Ah, here we are," the Headmaster exclaims, handing Harry a sheet of paper that lists the course options for Year 3 students.

"You'll find that some courses are, indeed, mandatory, such as Health and Geography. The rest, however, you are free to choose from the options provided to you," the Headmaster states as Harry looks over the list and begin deliberating.

Year 3 Course Offerings:

English:

Writing and Composition

Reading and Literature

Speech and Grammar

Mathematics:

Elementary Mathematics

Intermediate Mathematics

Advanced Mathematics

Science:

Earth Science

Animal Science

Space Science

Social Studies:

World Culture and History

UK History

Great Britain History

Extra Studies (Pick Three Courses):

Music

Symphony Orchestra

Piano I

Guitar I

Choir

Physical Education

Self-Defense

Conditioning

General Physical Education

Art

Sculpting I

Painting I

Drawing I

Foreign Language (Optional):

French

German

Spanish

Mandatory:

Health and Social Education

World Geography

Harry blinked at the amount of courses in which he has the option of participating. A wide grin stretches over his face and Harry almost cries in excitement.

"Mr. Potter? Are you alright? It's alright to be overwhelmed, you know," the Headmaster offers, seeing Harry's misty eyes, but missing the smile because he has bent his face so low.

Harry looks up quickly and his smile only grows.

"No, Headmaster, I feel fine- fantastic in fact. I'm just. I'm starting a new chapter in my life and it almost feels like I'm shedding my old life like a skin- I feel refreshed and excited about tomorrow. I'm just so lucky to have been presented this opportunity to tackle life with the enthusiasm I've only ever wished for. Do you know what I'm talking about?" Harry gushes, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

Headmaster Wilson blinks in surprise before letting out a bellowing belly laugh, a pleasant sound that makes Harry feel safe.

"Yes, Harry, I do know what you are talking about. Feel free to deliberate for a few moments while I step out to get a drink- would you like some water?" Headmaster Wilson manages between a few chuckles.

Harry smiles sweetly and says, "Yes, please, Headmaster. Thank you very much."

He leaves the office, but Harry can hear Mrs. Roberts and Headmaster Wilson talking about Harry and his promise at Mrs. Robert's desk. Harry smiles at the kind people who run this school and makes his decisions regarding which courses he will take next year.

About ten minutes later, Headmaster Wilson re-enters his office with two bottles of water and a smile on his face. His talk with Mrs. Roberts already reiterated what the Headmaster suspected of the boy- he was a highly intelligent, enthusiastic, and kind young man who wants nothing more than to learn and participate and collect new experiences.

Thanking the Headmaster for the water. Harry takes a deep breath before diving into the next discussion.

"Alright, Headmaster, I've made some decisions, but I am hoping that maybe you can help me out with some pending decisions?" Harry asks, hope shining in his eyes.

Curiosity peaked, Headmaster Wilson gives his consent and signals for Harry to talk on.

Giving a nod, Harry dives fully into the brunt of what he would like to discuss.

"Okay. I have decided to take Writing and Composition, Advanced Mathematics, Space Science, World Culture and History, Self-Defense, Drawing, and Spanish," at the Headmaster's nod of acknowledgment, Harry plows onward.

"I do, however, have two questions. The first question is a little out of line, but I will miss every chance if I do not take them, right? I would enjoy any music course I enroll myself in, but I would like to be able to try the instruments involved before I choose which line of study I will pursue. Is there a way we could go down to the music rooms so I could try out the instruments before making a final decision?" Harry asked, holding his breath as the Headmaster mulled it over.

After a few moments and many glances at the clock on the wall, the Headmaster nods his head and gazes at Harry.

"That sounds agreeable, Mr. Potter. I must say, I do appreciate your thoroughness and enthusiasm for your education," the Headmaster chuckles, shaking his head in wonder.

Letting out a big breath, Harry grins and continues on in his questioning, "Thank you very much, Headmaster, that is very kind of you, indeed. My second question is also a bit out of line, but would it be possible for me to receive my textbooks before the start of term so I may do an overview of my upcoming year?" Harry asks, once again holding his breath.

Harry releases it, however, when the Headmaster laughs once again, head thrown back in mirth.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, you are going to be an amazing student, I can tell. To answer your question, that is a given, as, when our students choose their following year's courses at the end of their term, we give them the appropriate textbooks so that they may do exactly as you wish to do."

"Brilliant," Harry grins, relieved that he may review and catch up on the muggle subjects on which he needs to catch up.

"Now that that is settled, how about we head to the music rooms, so that you may choose your instrument?"

Harry nods and stands to follow Headmaster Wilson to the music rooms.

"Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Potter and I will be heading to the music rooms so he may test out the instruments before choosing his music course, will you please gather the appropriate text books for the courses he has chosen?" the Headmaster asks Mrs. Roberts while handing her a piece of paper Harry hadn't noticed him writing on.

"Of course, Headmaster," Mrs. Roberts smiles, glancing at the list as she leaves the office.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, let's get going," Headmaster Wilson leaves the office, Harry at his heels.

After many minutes of twists and turns, they come to a stop before a large room with foam on the walls and countless chairs and music stands set up.

"This is where the Symphony Orchestra meets. The school instruments are through this door to the storage room," the Headmaster says, walking to the back corner of the room and entering a door that leads to a large room with many lockers filled with cases varying in size.

"Our orchestra features a strings section, a percussion section, a woodwinds section, a brass section, and a keyboard section. You may try out each one before we move to the guitar and piano rooms," the Headmaster says as he unloads many cases from their lockers.

After thirty minutes of trying the various instruments, Harry decides that he most enjoys the cello, oboe, and trombone. He enjoys percussion, but knows that practicing at home is almost impossible due to the many varying instruments.

"Piano room next, then," the Headmaster announces after they have put all the instruments away.

Moving out of the room and a little ways down the hallway, they stop in front of a large room filled with at least thirty mini grand pianos.

Harry moves to one of the pianos and plays around on it, making little songs of his own and trying to imitate what pieces he can remember.

Twenty minutes later, Harry already likes the piano more than he did any instrument from the Symphony Orchestra room.

"The beauty of the piano is that you could choose to be in the Symphony Orchestra, if you wished. There is a keyboard section, if you remember. That will allow for fuller pieces to be brought to life, rather than solos for yourself. It depends on what you would want out of the class and learning the instrument, I suppose," the Headmaster explains, seeing that Harry is enjoying himself much more here than he was in the Orchestra room.

"Last, but not least, let us move on to the guitar room," the Headmaster smiles when Harry nods enthusiastically and follows very closely to his heels in the hallway.

They enter a smaller room than the previous two, but Harry's breath is taken away when entering this room. The room, while smaller than the previous two, is still larger than most other rooms in the school. Two of the walls are covered in the foam while on is almost all windows, looking out over a courtyard before a thicket of paper birch trees. The fourth wall is covered, floor to ceiling, in guitars. Acoustic guitars, electric guitars, steel guitars, resonator guitars, you name it. Behind the guitars, Harry can see some sort of mural with bright colors and many figures.

Without even picking up a guitar, Harry knows without a doubt that he needs to spend his time in this room. Swallowing heavily, Harry moves to the wall the pick up a guitar, sitting at one of the many chairs around the room.

After ten minutes of playing, Harry knows that this is the class he is pursuing. At the smile threatening to split his face in two, Headmaster Wilson knows Harry's decision is made.

"You're pursuing Guitar I, then?" he smiles, laughing when Harry begins to babble excitedly.

"YES, oh yes, indeed I am. I equally have enjoyed the piano and the guitar, but I need to be in this room as often as I can… its atmosphere is intoxicatingly… peaceful… happy. Perhaps I will pursue the piano on the side by myself," Harry deliberates with himself, setting the guitar back on the wall, stroking his hand lovingly down the neck.

Headmaster Wilson smiles at Harry's enthusiasm, settling a hand on his shoulder and steering him back in the direction of his office.

"You have four years to pursue every option, Harry. As you stated earlier, you are starting a new path of your life, and the opportunities are endless."

The walk back to Headmaster Wilson's office is a relaxed walk, the two discussing Harry's favorite books, his excitement, and the upcoming school year. When they return to the main office, the clock on the wall reads 4:38 and Mrs. Roberts is organizing a large stack of books that Harry recognizes to be his textbooks.

"Oh, you're back! Have you made a decision regarding your music course?" she asks, smiling at Harry and Headmaster Wilson.

"Yes, ma'am, I will be pursuing the guitar," Harry smiles widely, thinking of the future.

"Lovely," she says, grabbing one book out of a stack of four, putting it on the larger stack next to it. She grabs the large stack of books and stuffs as many as she can in a book bag with the school insignia on the front. Leaving only the Space Science book to carry, she hands the book bag and book to Harry, prepared to send him off.

"Don't forget about the uniform, either. Here are the places in which you may get them made," she hands him a small sheet of paper listing five Seamstress' shops in the area.

"Your tuition pays for your books and uniform already, so just go in and get measured, and the school will transfer the necessary money to the shop," Mrs. Roberts explains, smiling and patting Harry's shoulder.

Harry smiles and bids them good day, turning and leaving the office, hearing Headmaster Wilson ask Mrs. Roberts, "Where are his parents?" before hurrying to the exit of the school.

Bursting through the doors, Harry looks down at the list of seamstresses in his hand and decides to find the topmost shop, Stitches and Seams. Glancing at his watch to find the time 4:57, Harry figures he has a few hours before anything closes.

Starting in the directions of the shops and restaurants, Harry keeps an eye out for the sewing shop. After wandering around for twenty minutes, he asks a passing man for directions and is pointed four blocks down. Thanking the man, Harry hurries down the street, wanting to get this out of the way so he may find The Page Turner.

Ten minutes later, Harry stops in front of a store front with two wide windows filled with clothed mannequins, a purple sign declaring the store Stitches and Seams in looping golden letters, and an old green door with a multitude of colorful flowers painted around the frame. Walking in, Harry notices the perfumed air and gypsy like decorations. An old woman walks out, white hair to her shoulders and a stern frame to her mouth.

"I am Rosa. How might I help you, young man?" she asks, not unkindly, quirking an eyebrow.

"Hello Rosa, I am Harry Potter. I will be attending Phoenix School this upcoming fall and am in need of a uniform," Harry replies, smiling nervously and shuffling his feet.

"Phoenix School, you say? Well, I must say that your new school colors match your eyes and complexion very well, Mr. Potter. Stand on the pedestal," she commands, pointing to a raised circle in the center of the room, surrounded by mirrors and lights.

"Oh, I haven't taken the time to notice the school colors, I was too excited about the academics," Harry admits sheepishly, climbing onto the pedestal and moving his arms out at her prompting.

"Emerald green and heather grey," she mutters, taking her measuring tape to his body.

Harry nodded and followed her instructions. Twenty minutes later, she had all his measurements and allowed him to step down.

"Three long sleeved button-up shirts, two polos, one blazer, two pairs of pants, and two pairs of shorts. Does this sound acceptable to you?" she asks, going to a desk in the corner.

"Yes, ma'am, that sounds lovely," Harry nodded nervously. This woman demanded respect and he could do nothing but give her that which she demands.

"Good. That is the standard set, but many parents often want their children to have extras of shirts or pants," she explains, writing with a fountain pen at her desk.

"Ma'am, if you do mind me asking… what shoes should I wear with the pants? And does sock color matter? Do I need a tie, or will that also be provided in this set?"

Smiling gently at Harry's questions, Rosa looks up at Harry and answers with amusement in her voice, "I've always favored a polished black wing-tip shoe, myself. As for socks and tie, I believe in the ability to spruce up your outfit with what you like, yourself. Be that patterns, color blocking, or just plain old black, I believe that should be left to you."

Nodding and smiling, Harry responds, "Okay, ma'am, sounds great. Where might I buy these shoes you mention or ties and socks to match my personal style?"

"Well, I have some shoes in back I can let you browse… and I could always make your socks and ties, if you would like to browse my fabrics?" she answers, smiling when his expression brightens.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful, ma'am!" Harry exclaims happily before deflating slightly, "will those be included in my tuition transfer, or will I have to pay out of pocket?"

"Your tuition allows a budget for your uniform- not a set price. Your tuition will cover your ties, socks, and shoes just fine, child."

After perusing Rosa's fabrics and shoes, Harry picks three fabrics for his ties: a silvery and black geometric pattern, an all emerald floral pattern, and a pearly white and navy blue lattice pattern. He chooses black with white stars for his socks, and a pair of very nice polished black leather wing-tip shoes.

Harry's willingness to discuss his style and the care he shows for his clothes seems to endear Harry to Rosa, as the entire process had her right over his shoulder, encouraging him and making idle chatter with him.

When it comes time for Harry to leave, he shakes her hand and smiles, glad to have met Rosa.

"Come back in two weeks time, and your uniform will be ready, Mr. Potter," she smiles, shooing him out of her shop.

Smiling to himself, Harry exits the shop, glancing at his watch. Seeing that the time is 6:34, Harry cries out in surprise and quickly glances around, hoping to find a pedestrian who could point him to The Page Turner.

After many people who have never heard of the shop, a young couple point Harry down the road aways, about three blocks to their memory. Harry nods and thanks them, hurrying further down the street, coming to a halt in front of the old store at approximately 6:50.

On the outside, the shop isn't much to look at- just a plain brown wooden door, a green wooden sign hanging above and a window with a few old books on display. Seeing that the shop is open until nine pm, Harry takes a breath and walks in, an old bell announcing his arrival.

While the outside isn't much to look at, Harry falls in love at first sight with the interior. The walls are a deep, plum purple, and the hardwood floor is a rich tobacco, beautiful floral rugs covering parts of the floor. The lighting is a soft yellow and there is soul music lightly pumping from a record player in the corner. What really catches Harry's fancy, however, is the floor to ceiling books. All worn, but seemingly endless.

Harry follows the books through a doorway into a deceptively large room, rows upon rows of books towering over him. Genres are proclaimed on the ceiling, painted with a rustic orange atop a dusty green.

"Hello," a deep, rich voice calls from an overstuffed chair in the corner, "how are you doing today, sonny?"

Harry starts out of his reverie and turns to the corner, finding a face to match the voice. An old black man sits in the corner, grey hair and amber eyes hidden behind rectangular glasses. The man wears a gentle smile and clothes straight out of the forties, his hands folded in his lap and his legs crossed.

"Hello, sir, I'm doing just fine. And you?" Harry asks, moving to the corner to shake hands with the man.

"I've had a wonderful day, myself. Relaxed, peaceful. Is there anything I can help you with?" he asks, moving to stand from his chair, but appearing to be struggling.

"Actually, sir, I am wondering, are you the man who runs this shop?" Harry asks, moving to help the man to stand.

"Why, yes, sonny, I am. Charles Franklin Cooper, but you can call me Coop. How can I help you?" he asks, leaning on a gleaming black cane and smiling warmly at Harry.

"Hello, sir. I am Harry James Potter, but you can call me Harry. I'm going to be starting school near here soon, and I was wondering if I could help out around here. I wanted to find somewhere where I could be comfortable and have people of my own… be surrounded by what I love… make some money on the side, if you're okay with that. I want to help out around here, money or not," Harry speaks quickly, nervously looking to Coop, his heart beating out of his chest.

"Harry… how old are you? You can't be older than ten," Coop says, his old face wrinkling further in concern, "Why are you worried about money?"

"Well, Coop, I am seven years old. And I'm not worried about money, per say, but I do not like bothering my parents for their hard-earned money for things like books and hobbies," Harry partially lies. He has plenty of money in a trust vault at Gringotts, but his parents will be able to see if he ever makes any transactions- they would know he ventures into the world sans adults, that he exists, even. Harry doesn't need that- not right now.

Coop seems to hesitate, deep in thought.

After a few minutes with Harry waiting in bated breath, Coop asks, "What is your favorite book?"

At this, Harry blinks in surprise before thinking hard.

"I would have to say the Chronicles of Narnia," Harry answers, not able to not say his long time favorite filled with fantasy, love, and adventure.

"Why?" Coop asks, staring intently at Harry.

"Why? Well, I suppose it's because it holds many dear memories for me. The pages of those books got me through the many rough patches in my childhood thus far- they're filled with love, life, fantasy, adventure, and daring. They hold strong morals and themes that can be applied to real life- that I try to apply to real life. They cheer me up whenever I'm angry and hurt. They give me hope… I often read them with my family- my Aunt Mitsy, Uncle Popsy, and my sister, Milly. It's the first book I read curled up with them when my mother, father, and brother left for whatever event they were attending that night. They're the books that freed me from my pain. They gave me an escape- a safe haven," Harry trailed off, staring into the distance, thinking about how in turmoil he was at that age.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry?" Harry startles from his trance, looking to Coop who wore a wide grin and misty eyes.

"Okay, you can work for me. Not officially, of course," Coop hastens to say, "but I will definitely allow you to be here whenever you would like. You understand literature, the power it holds, the opportunities it presents. You're a true lover of books. You'll fit in perfectly here- I've been needing help around here, anyway. I'm not the young man I once was," he admits, leaning down and glancing around wearily, as if revealing a secret.

Giggling, Harry throws his arms around Coop's waist, squealing his thank yous into Coop's stomach.

Chuckling, Coop pats Harry's head and sits him down in a chair in the corner, sitting next to him.

"Now, what's this you said about your family?"

Panic overtakes Harry, and he almost bolts, but Coop grabs his hand in a surprisingly firm grip for how frail his hand looks.

"You don't have to be afraid Harry- you don't have to tell me."

Harry nods, but feels a strange disappointment.

They sit in the corner and talk for a while, subjects covering a wide variety from cooking to music, but Harry keeps feeling that disappointment in the back of his head.

An hour or so later, Harry's given into the urge and has divulged everything to Coop. The loving parents turned forgetful strangers- the famous brother who is somehow still a genuinely good and amazing person despite forgetting his twin- and the loving workers of the family who raised him with care and kindness. He even included his decision to work on forgiving his family for his own health.

They sit in silence for a bit, Coop holding a crying Harry and the sky darkening outside.

"It's not your fault, Harry. They're behavior? It's not your fault, or a reflection of who you are. I've only known you an hour, and I already intend to know you for the rest of my life. You haven't done anything to deserve their neglect or in any way have gotten what's coming to you. Your decision to forgive them is so mature, Harry. So mature for your age. I can't necessarily say they deserve it, but it's not about them, it's about you- and you deserve it, Harry. The peace and love. Only you can decide to accept whatever love they give you- no one else can know how you feel, and you know you best," Coop whispers this all into Harry's hair, feeling Harry's sobs grow rougher and louder.

A while later, Harry sits up and chuckles, feeling 1000 times better than he did an hour ago.

"Sorry for crying all over you, Coop, and thank you for your kind words- hearing them from someone else is… thank you, Coop," Harry smiles, hugging Coop one last time before checking his watch.

"9:24?!" Harry screams, jumping from Coop's lap, grabbing his back pack and book, and running for the door, "I'M SO SORRY, COOP, BUT I HAVE TO GO MEET MY AUNT, I'M SO LATE," Harry calls over his shoulder, hearing Coop chuckle from the corner.

"Come back anytime, sonny," he calls back, swaying to his feet to close the shop.

Harry sprints to the alleyway to call Aunt Mitsy, but is met with Aunt Mitsy already in the alley, tears slipping down her face, wringing her hands together worriedly.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN? IT'S 9:42. I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK AND YOUR PARENTS HAVE NO IDEA WHERE YOU ARE, ARE YOU INSANE? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Mitsy shouts, her relief quickly turning to anger at seeing the apologetic and guilty look on Harry's face.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Mitsy, I was taking care of school stuff, then I found this bookshop, and I just lost track of time, and I am so sorry that I for- wait. My parents have no idea where I am?" Harry stops mid apology in dread.

"Yes, Harry, your parents. And your brother, and your Uncles, and Headmaster Dumbledore. Evan's first lesson was tonight, and when they went to find you to give you your theory, you WEREN'T THERE," Mitsy yells, her concern leaking through her anger, trembling to Harry and pulling him in for a brutal hug, tears beginning to stream down her face

Gasping, Harry grabs back Mitsy, strangling her just as much as she was him.

Mitsy chose this time to apperate them back to the manor, not that Harry noticed over his frantic comforting of Mitsy.

"-no, Aunt Mitsy, please, I'm so sorry I just disappeared, I lost track of time, I was so irresponsible, Aunt Mitsy. I should have called you after my meeting with Headmaster Wilson, I just wasn't thinking, I just got so caught up in all of my excitement, and getting measured for my uniform and finding that bookshop, I just completely blanked, and I am so sorry Aunt Mitsy, please don't cry, I'm fine, see? All fine, please don't cry," Harry pushes out in one breath clutching Aunt Mitsy, never having made her cry before. He went to continue after a breath, but he is snatched from Milly by bigger, softer arms.

"OH MY BABY," Lily cries into Harry's hair, clutching desperately at him, clenching her eyes shut over her tears.

Harry cries out in alarm, not having noticed their arrival home. Recognizing Lily as the one holding him, Harry looks around the room, seeing the pale faces of his father and Uncles Sirius and Remus, Evan crying in relief on the couch and Popsy and Milly hugging each other in the corner. Dumbledore stood by the fireplace, eyes narrowed at the people around him, the anger in his eyes softened by the relief of finding Harry.

"Um… yes, hello," Harry awkwardly gets out, patting Lily's arm from his imprisonment in her embrace, "I'm sorry to have worried you, I lost track of time in muggle London."

"Muggle London? You were in muggle London? Why?" James asked, his concern coloring his face, but his confusion lacing his tone.

"..." Harry hesitated to reveal the truth, but was beat to the punch by Remus.

"For a meeting with this Headmaster Wilson person," he frowns, recalling Harry's babbled apology to the house elf.

"Headmaster Wilson…" James mutters to himself, as if trying to recall a memory.

"The headmaster of your primary school! You set up the meeting to schedule your classes without us?" James asked, pain crossing his face.

"Is that what you had to do earlier today?" Evan asked, understanding crossing his face.

Harry sighs, feeling conflict on the rise.

"Yes. I set up the meeting a week ago for today, and I went on my own. I scheduled my classes, got my text books, and went to a seamstress to get measured for my uniform. After that, I searched for a bookshop Mrs. Roberts, the secretary at my school, recommended to me. The man who runs the shop and I got into a discussion and I lost track of time. I found the nearest alleyway and called for Aunt Mitsy, who promptly gave me a dressing down. I should have told someone I was going in to town or at least warned Aunt Mitsy I was going to explore London. I was incredibly irresponsible, and I'm so sorry for worrying you all," Harry ends, swallowing and looking down, knowing he messed up.

"Why didn't you tell your parents about this meeting? Why didn't you ask them to go?" Sirius steps in to ask after Lily and James don't say anything, too busy processing how independent their son was forced to become.

"Didn't want to bother them. And I can take care of myself," Harry bites out, getting defensive in the face of accusation from his Godfather, who is oblivious to the neglect due to his own neglect.

"Take care of yourself? Harry, you're 7 years old, how you can even operate a telephone?" Remus steps in, not liking the attitude in Harry's response.

"Stop talking to him like he's stupid! Why are you all even pretending to care? You wouldn't have even noticed he was gone if the Headmaster hadn't requested his presence! How can you even pretend to be his parents, his family? NONE OF YOU DESERVE HIM, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN HE'S FELT IN THE PAST-"

"MILLY!" Harry shouts, shocked by her outburst.

Milly's already worked up, though, turn on Harry, indignant at his questioning from these people who don't even care about her brother.

"NO, HARRY!" she shouts, anger coursing through her body, "HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TAKE THEIR ACCUSATIONS? THEIR REPRIMANDS? WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME THEY EVEN TALKED TO YOU? SAW YOU? HOW ABOUT YOUR PARENTS OR BROTHER? HUH? WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME THEY REMEMBERED YOUR EXISTENCE WITHOUT OUTSIDE HELP? HOW YOU CAN CHOOSE TO TRY AND FORGIVE THEM IS BEYOND ME! AND YES, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU NEED THE REPRIEVE FROM PAIN THE FORGIVENESS WILL BRING YOU, BUT DAMMIT, HARRY, IT'S LIKE YOU'RE JUST LETTING THEIR BEHAVIOR SLIDE."

Milly finishes her speech, glaring darkly toward all the humans in the room before popping away. Aunt Mitsy and Uncle Popsy follow moments later, intending to thoroughly reprimand their daughter.

The deafening silence that follows seems to darken the room.

Minutes later, Harry returns from his own head, realizing that he's still tangled in Lily's arms. Pushing out of them, he sighs heavily and runs a hand down his face, feeling 100 years older than he should.

"What did she mean, Harry?" Dumbledore asks from his place by the hearth, the sadness in his eyes telling Harry everything he needs to know.

"You know what she meant, Headmaster. Harry is a forgotten name in this house, this family. I've gone most of my life with only the house elves as loving family. And loving family they are. My aunt, uncle, and sister. Nobody could ever replace them- and that I mean," he adds vindictively, seeing the hurt look on Lily's face.

Sighing in abrupt weariness, Harry continues before anyone could interrupt him.

"But," he sighs again, "family means unconditional love. I still love all of you… nothing can ever change that, unfortunately," he adds bitterly. "

I'll always care about you, what happens to you. But the anger… the sadness… the pain. It almost destroyed me… I needed a way out. Despite how undeserving you all are, I have chosen to try to forgive you- no," Harry says sharply, pointing at his mother, who brightened at hearing of forgiveness.

"No, mother, don't get too excited. I've been trying to forgive you all for over a year now- it's a process, not a decision. I still have a long ways to go," Harry sighs again, feeling his bones creak from the long day and almost hearing his brain give a yawn, "Like I said, I still love you guys, and I've never been able to hate you. You're all too… good to hate. Having said that, I can't have you in my life. Not right now. I soften around you all- I crave your approval too much. I crave your affection too much. I melt in your presence quickly- too quickly. I can't be around you when I'm trying to forgive you. If we form any semblance of a relationship before I have rid myself of my resentment and anger for you, we will not last. Just… forget about me for the time being," Harry says, moving in the direction of his room.

Just before he gets through the door, he says, "it's not like it'll be hard. You've had years of experience," glancing back, passed the horrified faces of his family, he addresses Dumbledore.

"It was nice seeing you Headmaster, but I think I'll pass on the theory work for now- I can study on my own just fine."

Harry left the room, feeling weak but strong at the same time. He'll process this entire situation later. For now, he has a bed calling his name.

Okay! Chapter 3, all done!

Let me know if I'm being too descriptive about stuff y'all don't care about. I didn't mean to make Harry's enrollment process the entirety of the chapter, but I got excited, and so did he, obviously. His muggle schooling won't be more than next chapter, then he'll be off to Hogwarts.

Also, I don't know much about education in Britain, so I tried to make it seem odd in the story as well, as that's definitely not how it's done in either Britain or America, where I am from.

Peace, guys, I'll try to upload again soon!