Disclaimer: All characters and recognizable story elements belong to J. K. Rowling.

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oOoOoOoOo

"Hey mate, you look great this year!" Ron exclaimed as he grabbed Harry and draped his arm over his friend in a one-armed hug. "They sure are feeding you better, too!"

Hermione meanwhile hugged the other half of him, but then frowned. "What happened to your glasses, Harry?"

Harry smiled back at both them happily. "Dumbledore had me taken to an optician and they gave me these permanent magical contact lenses. They are really great, you don't have to take them out all the time like the Muggle ones," he explained to Hermione. "And they should actually slowly improve my vision, too. So if I'm lucky, I'll not need them anymore in a few years. A bit like braces for teeth." He winked at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that and poked him. "Enough with the dentistry jokes. So how are you really doing this year?"

"Amazing, really. I'll tell you more about it later, though. There have been a lot of changes, but some are better kept quiet for now," he finished in a low tone. "And right now I think there are some more people I have to say hello too."

"Oh, of course. Meet us outside afterwards, will you?"

"Sure thing," Harry said, grinning at them before he went to greet Mrs. Weasley, who was busy in the kitchen. A lovely smell of baking cake filled the room.

"Harry!"

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," he got out before he was engulfed in a hug. Merlin, that woman always was very enthusiastic. Which was nice, but sometimes he wondered if she had no concept of personal space at all. Then again, with a family of their size living in that house, everyone would be used to living in each other's pockets.

He managed to free himself politely. "Thank you very much for having me over," he told her, smiling brightly.

"Of course, dear. I just wish we could see you more often. But Dumbledore keeps insisting that you have to stay with those horrible relatives of yours ..." she shook her head in disapproval.

"Oh, well, he has his reasons," Harry said hurriedly. "And they haven't been so bad this year, really."

"No, really," he reassured her, when she started to disagree. "Professor Dumbledore came and had a … word with them. Or rather a lot of words."

His grin was probably slightly evil. But the memory of his dear relatives with their proverbial tails between their legs as they scurried away after Dumbledore was through with them was a really good one. They'd been treating Harry like raw eggs ever since. No doubt their good behaviour would eventually wear off. However, the headmaster had promised Harry that he would be paying them regular visits from now on to keep them in line. Yes, life was much better now that his relatives lived in fear of Dumbledore.

"Hmm. Well, as long as they treat you decently enough now ..."

Harry nodded firmly. "They are okay."

"Good, then. Anyway, don't let me keep you inside on this glorious day. Everyone else is outside. I just need to keep an eye on the cake," she burbled happily, winking at him.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said quickly and made his escape.

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oOoOoOoOo

Outside he found Mr. Weasley seated comfortably at a big table that had been set up under an awning. It was going to be a hot day for once, and the man was contentedly sipping at a cooled bottle of Butterbeer. He smiled when Harry came up to him.

"Hello, Harry. Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, looking around for the others.

"I believe everybody else is down at the Quidditch pitch. They will be waiting for you, so hurry up."

The man beamed as Harry's face lit up. "Off you go!"

Harry hadn't brought his broom, but the Weasleys always had extras. And if they were old broom, well it was a friendly game. It wouldn't really do to show everyone up anyway. And indeed, everyone was just waiting for him to get started.

Soon afterwards he was in the air, dodging a Bludger as he tried to race Ginny. The younger girl was really good. He hoped she would try out for the Gryffindor team this year. Clearly all the practise she got with her brothers had honed her natural talent. And as he executed a tight spin, he realised once again how much he loved flying. Really, it was the greatest thing about being a wizard. And moments like this made it all worthwhile.

He was still smiling madly a while later when they walked back to the house. The twins had stayed behind to put away the brooms. Their matching wicked smiles had also promised the likelihood of some prank being planned. Charley was walking beside him, regaling everyone with an amusing anecdote involving a hungry dragonet and the head warder of the preserve where he worked. Apparently there had been a slight … misunderstanding between the two, which ended with the warden sporting a reverse Mohawk hairstyle thanks to a burn right down the middle of his head. The way Charley told the story was hilarious.

Ginny was on his other side. Somehow she had ended up clinging to Harry's arm. He had a slightly uneasy feeling about her. He wondered if she was really all right after what had happened to her last year. She also seemed to be the one most affected by his lack of glasses. All the others had taken it in stride, and even complimented him. But Ginny kept giving him odd looks. He found her staring at him several times, followed by her blushing and looking away again.

Ah, well. Girls, really who understood them. He looked over his shoulder to check on Ron and Hermione, who were walking right behind him. They looked to be arguing. Again. Sometimes he despaired of his friends. Hermione was mostly all right. She was quite sensible really, just terribly into books of course, and a bit too much in love with authority at times. But Ron was often still quite immature. And Harry was a bit concerned how his friend would take the revelation that Harry had done away with his famous name.

That Harry was no longer … Harry Potter.

Because Ron longed for recognition. Wanted badly to stand out from the crowd. So how would he react to Harry having rejected a name which embodied fame? Ron had never quite understood that Harry hated the attention. Wanted to be just … normal. He didn't get it that his friend would have swapped places with him without hesitation. If it meant he had parents, and a happy childhood. Fame could go hang. Money was nice, but ultimately worthless. Because there were things neither fame nor money could buy you.

So the thought of Ron finding out made his stomach clench. He just had a bad feeling about it. And it would be compounded by Harry having kept it from them for over a month. Which would annoy Hermione, but she'd get over it. But Ron would feel insulted by this lack of trust. Yet trusting in Ron's discretion, or worse, his acting ability … was setting yourself up for a fall. So once Ron found out there would likely be yelling. And pouting. And maybe a falling out, too.

He noticed that Charley had finished his story and was looking at him with some concern.

"Everything alright, Harry?" he asked softly. "You look rather upset all of a sudden."

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking of something," Harry replied lamely.

"Well, don't do that on your birthday, mate," Charley said, winking at him.

"I'll try."

"You do that," Charley said with an encouraging smile. Which widened even more as he looked past Harry.

"Hey, Bill," he shouted. "We weren't sure you were going to make it."

Harry spun around to face the eldest of the Weasley brood. Bill was coming towards them with a big smile on his face, which faded into puzzlement as he got a closer look at Harry. Ups. One question answered. He clearly needed to talk with Bill fast.

"Hello, Bill," he said, stepping forward to meet the older wizard. "Say, I'd like to ask you something. Could I have a quick word with you?"

"Sure, Harry," the red-head replied, blinking slowly at Harry. "Right here, or did you want to talk in private?"

Harry quickly looked around, and found everybody looking at him. Right. Definitely not here.

"Ehm," he started out, blushing a bit under their stares. "Maybe in private? It's a little bit embarrassing."

Because really, it would be quite embarrassing if they found out that he was keeping secrets from them.

"Well, come on then, we'll head up to my room for a moment," Bill said, giving him a strange look.

"Thanks," he replied earnestly. "See you in a bit, guys!"

And he quickly ran off after Bill, who was striding away towards the house.

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oOoOoOoOo

Once inside the room Bill shared with Charley, the older wizard closed the door and then took out his wand to cast a couple of charms on it.

"There," he said, turning to face Harry with a rather serious expression on his face. "Privacy, as requested. Now mind telling me why you are wearing a glamour to hide your quite fetching new hairstyle?"

"Ehm," Harry began again. "Dumbledore put that on me," he went on to explain, feeling flustered.

"See, we don't want everybody to know about it yet. If someone saw me like this … well, we want to keep it out of the papers for now. Because there is other stuff, and if they started digging around ..."

"What other stuff?" Bill asked, taking a seat on his bed and waving Harry over to sit on Charley's. Harry perched himself nervously on the edge of the mattress.

"I'll tell you, because Dumbledore thinks you can be trusted to keep silent about it," he started. "But you really need to promise not to tell anyone. Not even your family for now. Especially not your family, in fact. And it will all come out in a month anyway."

The red-head gave Harry a long, measuring look, but agreed.

"All right. As long as it's not illegal or harmful, I most sincerely promise not to inform anybody about what I will learn during this conversation," Bill said evenly.

"Oh, it's perfectly legal. Very much so," he sighed. And permanent. "Harmful … well, some people might have hurt feelings when they learn of it."

"My family, you mean?" Bill asked shrewdly.

Harry gave a sad nod. "Yeah, quite possibly. See, a week or so ago I got my name changed."

"Just your … name?"

"Well, not quite just my name. I sort of may have caused the Potter family to become extinct," Harry admitted, with a guilty expression.

"Oh. That was you? I actually heard the goblins talk about that ceremony, though of course they didn't say who it was. But since it hardly ever happens, it caused quite a stir," Bill said, looking rather flummoxed.

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking around the room to avoid Bill's eyes.

"So … if I may ask, why? Why do it?"

"It's kind of a long story, Bill. But in short, I just really didn't want to be Harry Potter anymore. And I got Dumbledore to agree with me, so you can be sure I got to think it through very thoroughly first."

"So what's your name now?" the older wizard asked, still sounding a bit bewildered.

"Harold Evans. I basically just took my mum's maiden name," Harry said, shrugging. "And yeah, I know about the consequences of ditching the Potter."

"Well, as long as you are sure?"

Bill clearly wasn't sure about it. And he was probably the most level-headed of the whole family, except for maybe Mr. Weasley.

"See, even you can't quite understand it," Harry pointed out a bit sadly. "So imagine how the rest of your family will react when they learn of it?"

"Ugh, yeah, I see what you mean about that," Bill said, his eyes widening almost comically. "Somewhere between horribly shocked and going spare. Though the twins will think it a grand prank, no doubt about that."

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Those two will. But the rest?" He was abruptly serious again. "And I just want one summer without all the hassle. Dumbledore took care of my relatives for me, so they now live in mortal fear of offending him."

"Hah, that I'd have loved to see," Bill exclaimed. "He should have done that ages ago! When I think that my brothers had to break you out of your room because they'd dared to lock you in ..." he growled, looking quite feral.

"Yeah, he was splendid. So now they're okay, and I'm having a really great summer so far. And I just don't want to deal with the fallout yet. Once we go to school Dumbledore's going to announce it anyway, but until then … I just want one summer of freedom!"

Bill's gaze was disconcertingly sharp. "Is this why you did it? Because you felt you needed to be free of your old name? I think I can sort of understand why you'd hate it, actually," he continued, putting his head sideways in thought.

"You're always under pressure, aren't you? And people have such weird ideas about Harry Potter, the great hero. Yes, I think I see now ..." he trailed off, and his eyes were sympathetic.

"Thanks, Bill," Harry said earnestly, feeling relieved. "For being able to understand. That really means a lot to me. Because it's been horrible, and no-one seems to get it that I don't want to be famous. That one of my biggest dreams is to be just … normal."

"Oh, Harry," Bill sighed. "This hasn't been easy for you, has it? And with all that has happened at Hogwarts, too. I hear plenty of stories," he explained, gesturing expansively. "More than some. As you said, Dumbledore trusts me and I sometimes do freelance work for him. Security and such, you know? So I know more than most about what's going on."

"In fact I've got a job from him coming up which involves you in a way," he added, eyeing the younger wizard. "He wants me to put warding runes in the Chamber of Secrets. Right now the thing is rather a big security hole for the school that he wants closed. Am I right in thinking that I'll need your help getting into it?"

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "Yeah, you would. So … warding runes. Sounds interesting."

"Oh, yes, runes are. Very much so. There is no end to the stuff you can do with them!" Bill exclaimed enthusiastically. A few minutes of examples and explanations later it was clear that he really loved the subject.

"Maybe I should have taken Ancient Runes as an elective instead of Divination," Harry mused, impressed by Bill's obvious enthusiasm.

"Divination, huh? Do I detect the influence of my lazy little brother in that selection?" The older red-head didn't sound very happy about that.

"You don't think much of Divination, then?"

"Well, it's fine if you have talent as a seer. But I've never understood why they even offer it at Hogwarts. There are damn few real seers about, and those usually get one-on-one training anyway. So teaching it in a class is rather pointless. Besides Trelawney is a bit of a fraud on top," he concluded with a roll of his eyes that spoke volumes.

"But you know, you can still change the elective? Especially if you have Dumbledore helping you now," he said with a speculative look at Harry.

"Hmm. I might at that. Ron will be annoyed at me for ditching him, but I'm afraid he'll be quite upset with me in any case," he sighed, looking sadly at the floor.

"Harry," Bill said, reaching across to put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "My little brother is a nice enough guy. But you shouldn't let him decide your life for you. And taking a useless subject at school just to please him … well, don't do it. Not unless you actually find the subject interesting."

Harry blinked at him. "So, I shouldn't try to please my friends?"

"If they really are your friends, then they'll understand that you need to be your own person, and make your own way. And Ron needs to learn to be his own person, too. I know he dreams of being recognised, but right now what I see is him latching onto you. And that isn't good for either of you."

"Oh. Well, he's been a great friend, but sometimes ..."

"Sometimes he's still very immature," Bill stated bluntly. "That's the downside of being one of the youngest in such a big family. There's always someone to help you out. You don't have much pressure to learn to stand on your own feet. And well, our mum does mother us too much sometimes," he rolled his eyes again. "She has a hard time letting go, if you know what I mean."

Harry could see his point. He'd never had anyone to depend upon. Had always been on his own, really. In a way he had latched onto Ron as much as the other had, only for different reasons. Because he'd been desperate for friendship. But trying to change himself, or hold himself back, just to please a friend … was probably a really bad idea.

"Right. I think I see what you mean. And you are right. I'll ask Dumbledore to change the elective for me," he said in sudden decision. "And Ron, well, maybe when he has to deal with learning about all this, he'll get to grow up a bit, too. I still want to be his friend," he said, looking earnestly at Bill who nodded encouragingly.

"But I'll stop trying to do stuff just to please him. I'll try to find things instead that are good for both of us to do together," he continued. "And I'll be there if he needs help. But if I really want to be free, I have to be free in this, too."

Bill looked at him with sympathy. "It'll be all right," he offered. "He'll come around. But he needs to grow up and learn for himself, and you can't do it for him. If you try, you are not really helping him. Much better he goes through a little bit of disappointment and hurt now, than a lot later. Because everyone needs to learn that lesson at some point."

"Yeah, you are right. Thanks, Bill," Harry told him. "Thanks again for understanding, and for all the advice. There aren't really many people I can go to for advice, you know," he added, suddenly feeling shy. "And well, I don't want to bother Dumbledore with stuff like that."

"Harry, I'd be proud to call you my little brother, too," the red-head replied with a fond smile. "So if you need any advice or help, or just feel like having a good chat, don't hesitate to contact me."

"I will," Harry promised simply, really meaning it.

"Good! And … right now I believe there shall be cake. We can use that as a distraction," he gave Harry a conspiratorial wink. "And if anyone asks us what we were talking about, we'll say it's a surprise. No-one can argue with a surprise!" he declared theatrically, getting up and striking a pose.

"Now onwards! For cake, chocolate pudding and err," his gaze fell on a poster stuck to the wall. "Quidditch! That's always a good reason for … everything!" he exclaimed, dragging a giggling Harry out of the room with him.

And there was, indeed, cake.

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oOoOoOoOo

Dear Harry,

I write to you to explain about a matter you may have heard of from your friends and the Weasley family. Your godfather, Sirius Black, has escaped from Azkaban. He was sentenced there for his betrayal of your family to Voldemort, and the subsequent murder of a dozen Muggles as well as of Peter Pettigrew, another friend of your father's. He is likely dangerous, and thanks to his prolonged stay in Azkaban, his sanity is also questionable. Unfortunately it may be that he poses a danger to you, wanting to finish what Voldemort failed to do.

I do not honestly believe he knows where you live, but just to be on the safe side, try to limit the time you stay outside. Please always carry your wand and the emergency portkey I gave you on your person. Most of all, please make no detours when going to and fro Mrs. Figg's. You will, of course, be perfectly safe from hostile wizards while at your relatives, and Mrs. Figg's house has also been protected. However, I do not think you need to worry unduly, and Black will likely be caught again before too long. Still, a degree of precaution has never hurt anyone, and you seem to have the unfortunate tendency to attract trouble, dear Harry. So better safe than sorry.

I hope you had a good birthday party at the Weasley's. I heard that Bill was present. I trust that he did not give you any trouble?

Let me know if you wish for any further visits to the Burrow. I also believe the Weasleys have a planned shopping trip to Diagon Alley. Given the momentary general nervousness, I do not know if it is entirely wise for you to attend. Since you already have everything you need for the next year, you would not need to visit Diagon again. But I will leave the decision up to you. If you wish to go, however, I must insist on organising a security detail for your protection. Please let me know your intentions, and if you need anything else.

I will also come by sometime next week for a check up on your relatives. It would not do for them to 'forget' about treating you well. I believe your schedule for the rest of the holidays is also pretty set, but tell me if you want anything changed about it.

And finally the Weasleys have contacted me to ask if you could stay with them for a week before school starts. Again, I will leave that up to you. Just let me know so I can have matters arranged.

Yours,

sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

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oOoOoOoOo

Harry stared at Dumbledore's latest letter glumly. He had a godfather? Who had betrayed his parents, and was a murderer? And who might be out for Harry's blood? Well, nothing new there, then. Apparently he couldn't even manage to be normal in regards to his godfather. His just had to be a secret Death Eater and mass-murderer. And now the man had escaped from prison. Which was supposedly impossible. But what was ever normal for Harry … Evans.

Really, it had been too much to hope that a simple change of name would stop weird stuff happening to him. Weird and dangerous, he reminded himself. On the other hand, his changed appearance might throw his godfather off, if the man managed to find him after all. Because everyone always talked about how much he looked like his father. And now he didn't really anymore.

Still, there was no point in worrying about it. If he was safe, he was safe, and if not … he could just try his best if it happened. And not think about how in his life, 'if' had an unholy tendency to turn into 'when' instead. Meanwhile he had a reply to write to the headmaster ...

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oOoOoOoOo

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I did have a very nice birthday party with the Weasleys. And one of the best things about it was the talk I had with Bill.

I told him about the name change, which he'd actually heard of, though my name wasn't mentioned. It seems the goblins were gossiping about the ceremony, though. Anyway, I managed to get him to understand why I went through with it, which felt great. I'm afraid not many people will really understand it. He also gave me some good advice about how I should handle Ron. Because Ron will likely not take this very well at all.

Bill also offered to be a big brother for me, and to come to him for advice and help if I needed it. I really like him. He was also not happy about my choice of elective for the coming year, and I've come to see his point. Do you think I could still change from Divination to Ancient Runes? Bill was really enthusiastic about the subject, and I'm afraid he's managed to infect me. As well as put me off Divination. In any case, I believe Runes will be more useful for my future. So if it's still possible at all, I'd like to change my elective. Maybe we can talk about it during your next visit?

I think I'll leave off going to Diagon Alley again. The thought of trailing security guards is rather off-putting. And well, it was quite hard to keep the Weasleys from asking me too many questions. I think they suspect something is up, and are trying to nose it out of me. Much as I like them, this makes me feel a bit stressed. So let's just leave the trip. However, if you do get my elective changed, I'd need you to get me the books for Runes, please. I think I'd also rather stay here for the rest of the holidays, instead of visiting the Burrow again. I just don't feel up to constantly dodging questions. Plus I'd like to continue my tutoring sessions for as long as I can. I think they are really doing me good, and I'm rather enjoying them.

Maybe you could tell them that security concerns don't allow for further visits? That should satisfy them. And it also brings me to the other thing you wrote about. I didn't even know that I have a godfather! So to learn all these horrible things about him was rather a shock. I hope you are right about me not being in danger. Because the way my live has been so far, they probably should rename 'Murphy's law' to 'Potter's law'. Only of course it's no longer 'Potter'. But it seems like even as Evans, weird stuff keeps following me around.

In any case I'll try to stay in protected places as much as I can. Which is a lot easier now, since my cousin is no longer chasing me all over the place.

Looking forward to your visit,

yours,

sincerely,

Harold Evans (still very happy about it)

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oOoOoOoOo

Sirius Black felt confused. He was pretty sure he had the right address. And he thought he'd recognised the woman living here as Petunia, Lily's sister. Of course he'd only met her once, at the Potter's wedding, so he wasn't quite sure.

But if so, where was his godson? So far he had only seen that horribly fat kid, who seemed to be the son of probably-Petunia and her husband, the human walrus. Baby-walrus was out and about a fair bit, always hanging around with his gang of friends. They weren't the nicest kids. He'd seen them throw stones at the cats of the old lady who lived over in the next lane.

Not that he cared much for cats himself, especially not those cats. They kept hissing at him when he got too close to their territory. And they refused to be intimidated by his snarls and barks, or cowed by his size. But well, that was cats for you. Still, kids that threw rocks at cats might get the idea to throw stones at him, too.

So he had growled at them. Unlike the cats, baby-walrus and his friends had been properly terrified.

He sniffed in disdain. What a cowardly bunch. He slunk into the neighbour's rhododendron again, lying down flat to soak up the coolness of the shaded ground. He'd nose around for another day or so. If he still hadn't seen Harry by then, he'd have to assume he had the wrong place after all. Or that Harry wasn't staying with Petunia.

He was close to dozing off in the summer-heat when he heard the door at Number 4, followed by footsteps hurrying in his direction. He perked up his ears and sniffed. That was a new scent, at least. As he peeked out from under the concealing shrubbery, he saw a boy rapidly approaching his position. He stared, his tongue hanging out.

Because could this … be Harry? In that picture in the Prophet he'd looked just like James. It had been part of a human interest story about the Boy-who-Lived. The reporter had clearly gotten hold of a privately taken picture. Harry had been laughing together with his friends, in what looked like the Gryffindor common room. With his arm draped over his friend's shoulder. The friend who had a rat sitting on his other arm. A very familiar rat. Even the memory caused him to snarl silently in rage. Because that rat should have been … dead.

Footsteps passing him brought him back to the present. This boy looked … different. Yes, there was a certain resemblance in the facial features. But the hair wasn't at all like James', and he wore no glasses. The eyes were Lily's, though. In fact, the boy looked quite a bit like her. So, was this his godson after all? Even if he somehow failed to resemble James very much?

He'd been staring too long, and the boy had now hurried past him. It was a moment's quick decision to abandon the rhododendron and race after him. He managed to catch up with the boy just at the border of cat-territory. All of Sirius' instincts wanted him to jump up at the slight boy, wagging his tail happily. But he didn't want to knock him down. Really, the boy looked like a high wind would bowl him over. So he just stopped in front of him, yapping enthusiastically.

Only to see the boy back off, eyes widened in fright. This wasn't how it was meant to go. Harry … if it was Harry, he was still not really sure ... should not be afraid of him. And he should also not whirl around and bolt straight into cat-territory, dashing up to the door of cat-lady and fleeing inside without a single look back.

He let his ears drop. That could have gone better. And he was positive that the damn cats were sniggering at him, too.

He glowered back at them. He would not stay where he wasn't welcome. Anyway, he had a rat to hunt.

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oOoOoOoOo

Harry leaned against Mrs. Figg's front-door, still panting from his mad dash. That had been a close call. Ever since meeting Ripper for the first time, he held no great love for dogs. Especially not big, black, feral looking dogs chasing after him. He shivered. To suddenly come face to face with that monstrosity had frightened him. It made him remember the time when Ripper had chased him up a tree, and his relatives had left him stuck up there for ages.

So, no, he didn't really like dogs at all.

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AN: I'd just finished this chapter, when I realised I'd totally forgotten about the whole 'trip to Egypt' thing. Which was, however, the reason for Sirius' breaking out of Azkaban. Also canon Harry didn't meet Bill until his fourth year. But I really wanted Bill as a 'big brother figure' and confidante for Harry. So simple solution: my version of Bill still works for Gringotts, but in England. Therefore the family didn't go to Egypt to visit with him. I'm sure they can find something else to spend the money on (mutters darkly to herself). And I hope I came up with a fitting substitute for how Sirius saw Scabbers in a picture.

Thanks for the reviews, and yes, assorted people will have their problems with Harry's decision. :)

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