Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 3

For the second time in weeks, Dumbledore cursed his shortsightedness. He didn't know how it had happened, but somehow Lucius Malfoy was finding out about people he shouldn't have. For four years after Lucius had manipulated his Muggleborn Protection act into law, it had only affected those who really needed it and Dumbledore was ashamed to admit that he'd let his guard down. He'd thought that maybe, for once, he'd misjudged Malfoy and that the law had been thought up with good intentions on the blond pureblood's part.

He was wrong.

He'd just had to convince some Ministry officials that Terry Boot and Dean Thomas did not need to be removed from their homes. Yesterday, he'd been here to clean up the royal mistake of Fudge trying to foster Sir Finch-Fletchley's son to the Parkinson's. His only relief was that at least he was catching onto Malfoy's machinations sooner; if only he'd been this quick when it came to the Granger girl.

Hermione Granger was the strongest witch to be born in centuries. They'd had to call in professionals to deal with some of the accidents she'd caused but it was nothing so serious that should require her to be taken from her tolerant, loving, upper class family. And he'd taken steps to ensure that she would remain there, from misplacing reports, misdirection, and even a few well placed obliviates himself. The incident reports that the Ministry had were not the worst or most powerful that Hermione had done. But Lucius had still known she was a talent and gone after her personally. He'd had to pull several strings to ensure that the girl didn't end up as a ward of the Malfoys and betrothed to their only son.

The Fermots were not the couple he would have chosen, but they had been unable to have children and thus were very happy to get Hermione. He was sure that her raw potential and the acclaim that she would bring their family name, as the girl was now Hermione Granger Fermot in the wizarding world, would not hurt. The Fermots were a wealthy pureblood family that could trace their line to Merlin and were based mostly in France. They hadn't been connected to the Death Eaters and were fair in their dealings with muggleborns so he supposed it was the best compromise that he could get considering that both MacNair, who was not married, and Jugsen, old enough to be her grandfather, were both possible choices. Still, a pureblood education was the last thing someone of Hermione's power and mind needed. Her parents had done a surprisingly good job of recognizing what rights they would maintain and making sure that they would not lose them. But it wasn't enough.

He had a leak somewhere. In the months since little Hermione Granger had been taken into the wizarding world, he'd been searching to find the person or thing responsible for disrupting his plans. So far he'd found nothing which led him to believe that he hadn't been as thorough on his memory charms somewhere or that someone was deep in the pocket of Malfoy. Someone important.

Dumbledore stroked his beard even as he strode purposely through halls of the Ministry.

At this point, he was about to resort to magic that he preferred not to deal with. If what he thought had happened, actually had, he'd be doing the ritual the moment he got back to his quarters in Hogwarts.

He made another turn and walked into the Misuse of Magic office. Arthur Weasely was kneeling, talking softly to a large pile of blankets on a chair. His eyebrows rose of their own accord. The man had better have not called him here to ask about some inane Muggle device… He took another step and the breath left him when the pile shifted and a solid wall of magic prevented him from moving closer.

"It's okay, calm down." Arthur attempted to touch the pile but a wave of magic sent him flying backwards into his desk. He grunted as he stood up, rubbing his back. He glanced over and saw Albus standing in front of the invisible deterrent.

Albus was very disturbed when he realized that he couldn't get through it.

"Thank Merlin, you're here." Weasley straightened. "I've been doing my best, but… well you see."

"What happened Arthur?" Albus looked closer at what he had mistakenly thought were blankets. There was something powerful in them. The magic was wizard's magic, but he didn't know of anyone that small who could keep him out, no one bigger than that either. Even Voldemort couldn't have stopped him with just wall of magical will.

"I got a notice about an hour ago about something in Surrey going horribly wrong. Normally there would have been two of us, but… well the office has been understaffed lately and we don't normally get the issues like this. So I went to see what was going on." He paused, looked at the blankets and shivered.

"And?" Dumbledore prompted, his blood chilling. Surrey… The notice should have gone to the other office, but he had spelled it so that anything dealing with Surrey would come through Arthur because he had ensured that the man would tell him first. He glanced at the blankets again and prayed that they didn't conceal a child.

"It was horrible. I had to fight the furniture to get to the boy and… well… you understand Albus that I had to get the boy out first?"

Albus nodded, wondering how much worse his afternoon was about to get.

"It was difficult, but I was able to get to him and let him allow me to apparate him back here. Then I went back to help the muggles." Arthur ran a hand through his infamous red hair. "They'll all live. The muggle boy, he was scarred the least, thank Merlin. But the woman and the man… The mediwizards assured me that they would live."

"What did they say about the boy?" Albus motioned towards the blankets.

"They don't know. There wasn't enough time and he refuses to move." Arthur refused to meet his eyes.

"Arthur. What did he do?" Albus put a tiny bit of compulsion in his voice, time was wasting.

"He enchanted everything in the house to attack the muggles. The chairs, tables, rug, feletone, and even the house itself. The Aurors who showed up said they hadn't seen anything like that since the Death Eaters and You-know-who. They had to pull the woman out of the wall."

The blankets let out a gasp and shook. A murmur began, but it took a few seconds for Albus to make it out. "I-didn't-mean-it-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-I'lldoitrightnexttime-I'm-sorry-I'm-sorry-pleasedon'thitmeanymore!"

The furniture in the office started to levitate. Arthur drew his wand. Albus drew his own and flicked it to close and lock the door. Another flick ensured that a privacy charm was in place. Arthur stared from him to the shut door with a question in his eyes. Albus ignored him.

"Harry."

The murmur stopped and the furniture dropped. The blankets moved and Albus knew that the boy was staring at him. The wall in front of him did not drop or lose its strength.

"Harry," he made his voice as soothing as he could. Arthur shot him a startled look. "It was not your fault. No one will blame you for what happened. It was not your fault."

Then he motioned for Arthur to remain still, and waited. He couldn't do anything until the boy dropped his shield. He allowed none of his extreme disquiet show. He'd thought the boy would be powerful, but this was beyond anything he'd calculated for.

Slowly, as the boy could see that they were not threatening him, the blankets fell away. First one brilliant green eye was visible through the blankets, then the other, then a messy head of black hair, until finally his whole head was out, lightening scar and all. He still had the blankets wrapped tightly around him, but Harry Potter looked at Albus Dumbledore and blinked.

"You don't blame me?" Tears still flowed from eyes the exact color of his mother's. "I didn't mean to. I just wanted them to stop. I wanted it to finally be over."

Arthur gasped. Albus knew that the man had interpreted that the same way he had. The five year old boy-who-lived wanted to die. Perfect. Minerva would kill him for this if Severus didn't first.

"No, we don't blame you." Albus tried to move closer, but the wall had not dropped. He ignored his stinging nose. "They shouldn't have done that to you." The boy's small stature, hunched over way he sat, and the ways his eyes darted from him to Arthur as if one of them was about to hurt him, all spoke a clear tale of abuse. The bruises on his cheek and around his eyes and crooked nose colluded with the story. None of Arabella Figg's reports had mentioned anything like this.

Harry perked up a bit. "You think so? That's why I… I wanted it to stop. I didn't burn the eggs on purpose. Dudley kicked the box out from under me so I fell and I couldn't get up. It was an accident."

"Wha-"

Albus cut Arthur off before he could launch in to the rant that his incredibly red face hinted at. "And you were punished for it?"

Harry nodded. "And I couldn't get up fast enough so Uncle Vernon had to punish me for wasting his time. Aunt Petunia was laughing. I couldn't take it anymore."

"It sounds to me Harry, that your aunt and uncle are the ones who did the bad thing here. They shouldn't have done that to you."

"I didn't want to kill them." The boy sniffled. "Are they dead?" There was a mixture of hope and fear in his voice.

"No, Harry. They are not." Albus smiled reassuringly. "But don't worry. They won't hurt you again."

Albus didn't know how to feel about the fact that there was more disappointment than relief at the news, but reminded himself that it was only natural for an abused child to want there to be no possibility of his abusers getting to him again.

"Really?" Harry used his left hand to wipe his nose. Albus winced when he saw that two of the fingers were bent at odd angles. "Not again?"

"You won't be going back there, Harry."

Harry gazed into his eyes, as if the truth was in his eyes. Albus's smile almost dropped when he felt the boy's presence in his mind. He relaxed and let the boy feel his concern for him and the truth that the boy was not going to the Dursleys ever again. Harry blinked; the wall between them dropped.

"I… I still can't." The boy pulled the blankets around him as if they would provide a physical shield.

"Can't what?" Arthur asked.

"Move… my legs or my arm." He flinched away.

Albus cursed the Dursleys and jealous muggles from the depths of his heart. He slowly moved forward, careful to keep his eyes on Harry's. When he was a step away, he lifted up his wand. "Harry, I'm going to do a diagnostic spell on you, and try to heal what I can. Do you understand?"

"Diagnostic?" Harry's green eyes stared at him guardedly. "Spell? Magic's real? I didn't just imagine it?"

"Yes Harry, magic is real." Dumbledore made a flourish with his wand and flowers showered down on the wizarding world's savior. The boy's eyes widened further. "And a diagnostic spell will tell me what your health condition is and if anything is broken or not. Is that okay with you?"

It seemed like an eternity before Harry said yes.

The results of the spell only made his ire towards those who should have protected the boy worse. They deserved everything that had been done to them. Not only were the boy's legs, right arm, and two fingers on his left hand broken, he also had bruised ribs, a punctured lung, and a broken nose. On top of all that he was severely malnourished and almost blind. And that was just the injuries he'd suffered in the last twenty-four hours. The build up on his bones told their own story of multiple breaks and neglectful care.

How had the charms he had protecting the boy gone so awry that he hadn't detected any of this happening? Where was Arabella?

He pondered this question as he healed the boy's broken bones. Harry would have to see a mediwizard about his internal injuries, but he wasn't in imminent danger of collapsing and most of the pain should be gone.

Harry slowly dropped one of the blankets and flexed his hand and then stretched his arms, a large grin on his face. The grin disappeared and the blanket appeared around him the second he remembered he had an audience.

The exact second. One moment Harry had been stretching, the next the blanket was around him without any movement from him. Albus stroked his beard and silently cast a spell to test Harry's strength. Harry stiffened the moment the spell washed over him and stared at him accusingly.

"Sorry Harry," Albus tapped his wand against his hand. "I was just testing your reflexes. They're very good."

Harry nodded.

"Albus." Arthur began slowly. "He noticed when you cast a spell on him?"

"Is that bad?" Harry shrank into himself again.

"No! No." Arthur shook his head frantically. "It just means that you're very special."

The boy-who-lived glanced at Albus for confirmation which Albus gave him with a smile although he wished that Arthur would have kept his mouth shut. This was already a dangerous situation without the redhead messing with the boy's equilibrium.

It was very important that the boy remain calm. Albus just had to ask a few more questions to make sure he had a firm grasp of the situation before he started managing it. "Harry, how did you get better when they hurt you before?"

"I don't know." Harry shivered despite his blankets. "I just wanted to get better and I did, but not as good as you. It never stopped hurting, not like this." He wriggled all his fingers on his left hand. "It doesn't hurt."

"That's very good to hear, Harry. I hope you'll tell me if something hurts in the future so that we can make it better." Albus shot a silencing spell at Arthur lest the man say something inconvenient about the rare and prized treasure that the ability to heal yourself was, especially at a young age.

Albus knew what had happened to his wards. Harry Potter had happened. He was magically talented far beyond what Albus had accounted for so he had actually overpowered the magic that Albus had laid on the Dursley residence to protect him and notify him of any excessive abuse. It was a sobering thought. The boy rivaled him magically and he hadn't even gained the majority of his power.

He stroked his beard. Hermione Granger was in the same class as Harry with regards of power although she didn't have quite the instinctive use that he did, but she more than made up for that in her genius level intellect. It was rumored that Draco Malfoy could already open the Malfoy wards by himself, a feat his father didn't manage until he was double the child's age. Daphne Greengrass had turned a park into a forest. Pansy Parkinson had unicorns traveling across the continent to meet her. Even Arthur's youngest son was prone to the incredible bouts of accidental magic that marked several of the children in this generation.

Something was coming. Something big and Albus needed to be on top of his game to make sure that the wizarding world survived it. But first he needed to make sure that the boy he'd considered a general in all his plots was not too mentally scarred to take that post.

Someone banged one the door, making everyone jump. Arthur comforted Harry while Albus turned to see who it was. The door flew off its hinges before he could do anything and an enraged werewolf walked in.

"Something's happened to Harry!" He announced even as he gestured to the door so it returned to its rightful place. "I just stopped by Surrey and was able to go right up to the burning remains of his house. Albus, what is going-" He stopped short as he caught sight of the small boy huddled in blankets.

Harry stared wide-eyed at Remus Lupin. Remus sucked in a breath. "Merlin. Those eyes are just like his mother's." Then he took a closer look. Dumbledore had healed Harry's bones but the bruises hadn't faded. "What-"

"Remus." Albus was tempted to curse fate. How had the man found him here? "There was an incident and Harry will no longer be living with the Dursleys."

Remus's eyebrows rose. "What sort of incident?" There was a growl in his voice despite it being weeks away from the full moon.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Defensive accidental magic."

The werewolf's nostrils flared and the glare he sent Albus made him want to back up. "Defensive accidental magic? Enough to destroy a house? And we weren't allowed to see him for his own safety?"

Harry tensed and Albus cursed mentally. "You weren't allowed to see me? You wanted to see me?" There was a delicate quality to the boy's voice, as if he was afraid of the answer.

Remus took notice of it and toned himself down, relaxing his tense muscles and even managing a gentle smile. "Of course I wanted to see you Harry. I was very good friends with your parents."

"You knew my parents?" Harry perked up, letting the blankets fall further down on his shoulders.

"Your father was one of my best friends and I went to school with your mother." Remus, Albus noticed, was able to walk right up to Harry and sit down next to him without encountering a wall or being thrown across the room. "They were wonderful people. Loyal and brave and strong."

"And drunks?" Harry asked.

Everyone started. "No." Remus frowned. "Who gave you that idea?"

"Vernon said that they were drunks who drove off a bridge." The boy's words were hesitant as he saw the various looks of horror cross the three wizards' faces as they heard the flagrant lie about two of the bravest soldiers of their time. "He said my father beat my mother too so I was better o-"

"No!" Remus hugged the boy; Harry allowed it. "Your parents were great people and they died nobly. Your father would have rather hexed off his hands than ever use them to hurt your mother."

Harry considered this. "How about his feet? They're worse sometimes."

Remus swallowed audibly and hugged Harry closer. Though he spoke to Harry, his livid gaze was on Albus. "He would never use anything to hurt your mother or another human being. He loved her and she would have killed him if he tried."

"Really?" He grabbed a part of Remus's robe and stared into the werewolf's eyes. Remus's eyes widened and Albus knew that Harry was legilimancing the truth. Harry grinned a moment later. "That's nice. I wish I met them too. Can I live with you now?"

Both he and Arthur choked down a protest. Albus could see the headlines now: 'After torturing his abusive muggle relatives, the Boy-Who-Lived moves in with Werewolf! Is this the beginning of his turn to Darkness?' as penned by Rita Skeeter.

"We'll see about that Harry." Albus said before Remus recovered from his shock. Harry being raised by the werewolf would be even worse than Hermione at the Fermots. However… Harry couldn't go back to the Dursleys, Charlus Potter was on his death bed, and Harry had no other living relatives. Cornelius would block any attempts by him to raise the boy, and Malfoy would no doubt try to foster the boy himself.

Harry frowned and burrowed closer to Remus.

Of course, Albus was concentrating on the political impacts and forgetting the main problem of who the boy would allow to raise him. Things needed to be dealt with carefully to keep Harry from taking this incident and letting its effects drive him down the path of the one who'd given him that scar. The ministry would throw him with a pureblood family which could either mitigate the effects or make them worse.

He sighed. Harry was clutching Remus now as if the man were the only thing that anchored him to the world.

This was going to be difficult.

A/N: And I'm back! Sorry all for the long wait. Life and other things intervened, but I managed to beat them back with a new chapter.

I hope you like where this going. Please Read and Review!