Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling.

Chapter Four

"Now remember, Harry, don't get nervous, okay? There's no reason to get nervous," Lily babbled as she fixed Harry's collars and ran her hand down his shirt, smoothing it out. "I'm going to be by your side the whole time, okay? If there's anything he asks that upsets you, just squeeze my hand and I'll end the whole thing, okay?"

"Mum, it's fine." Harry answered quietly. "I don't need to hold your hand."

"Yeah, Lily, he's ten." James teased.

Lily shot him a glare.

"You stay out of this!" she hissed at him, "this is all your fault!"

"Mine? How?" James asked, putting down the morning paper.

"You couldn't have told Dumbledore to come later?" she snapped.

"I told you, he fire-called last night and sort of, invited himself over. What was I supposed to say?"

"How about, no, Dumbledore, not tomorrow, we're busy, maybe another day?"

"You know it's not easy to say no to Dumbledore." James reminded. "Besides, maybe this way it's better. It gets this whole business done and out of the way."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, feeling his heart jolt painfully. He knew it wasn't going to be a 'one-time' thing. Everyone he met was going to ask him about Voldemort. It was a miracle he had made it eight days without anyone asking him about the Dark Lord he had called 'Father' for the last six years.

'Nine years! It was nine years, not six!'

He reminded himself. He didn't want to get caught saying it out loud. He would have no way to explain it without the truth.

He looked up at his mum, still fussing over his clothes and his messy hair. He turned to glance at his dad, sitting at the table, smiling and allowing Lily's annoyance to roll off him. What would they do if they found out how he was raised? If they found out he believed it was them that beat him, tortured him, abused him? Harry felt a shudder run down his spine. It would ruin everything. They wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. It would make things horribly uncomfortable between them. He might even end up losing them.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Lily asked, at once noting the faint tremble run through him.

"Nothing," Harry mumbled, "just feel a little cold."

Lily cupped Harry's cheeks, her hand moved to his forehead and Harry barely managed not to wince as her fingers rubbed against his prickling scar.

"You don't have a temperature." she said, "are you feeling ill? Do you feel sick?" without waiting for an answer, she looked up at James, "call Dumbledore, tell him it's cancelled today, Harry's not well."

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled again, "really, mum, stop fussing."

"Lily, I'm not exactly keen on this meeting either," James said, "but I do think it'll only get harder the longer we wait. If Harry's up for it, let's get it done today and forgotten." His eyes fell on Harry, "what'd ya say, champ?"

Harry grimaced. He hated that word.

"Yeah, sure."

James beamed at him.

"That's my man!"

xxx

At exactly noon, the floo to the Potter's living room erupted in green flames and Albus Dumbledore arrived, looking as graceful as ever.

He stepped into the room, smiling at James and Lily as they got up from the sofa, where they had been sitting, waiting for him.

"Good afternoon, Lily, James." Dumbledore nodded politely.

"Dumbledore," James shook hands, "you're exactly on time, like usual."

"Time is an awful thing to waste." Dumbledore smiled, "one of those few things that can never be recovered."

They took a seat around the table. Lily hurried into the kitchen for some tea and refreshments. Dumbledore spoke quietly with James.

"How is Harry? I hope he's settling well."

"He's doing great," James replied, "it's taking time for him to open up, which is understandable."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I look forward to meeting him."

James shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"I know that you mean well, Dumbledore," he started, "and I'm well aware of how much good can come out of what Harry tells us, but," he paused, working out how he should say what he wanted, "my main priority, is my family. The last thing I will tolerate is my son being harassed." he met the cool blue eyes with determination. "If Harry doesn't want to answer your questions, I hope you will grant him that right. I have not asked Harry one question about Voldemort or his time spent with that monster, for the simple reason that I don't want to upset my son." his hazel eyes hardened, "I won't stand anyone upsetting him either."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"Rest assured, James, I'm not here to upset anyone, least of all, Harry."

The door opened and Lily walked in, carrying a tray with tea cups and a plate of biscuits and pastries. The three sat around the table, making polite conversation and drinking their tea. Once it was finished, Lily silently got up to go and fetch her son. It was time for the meeting to start.

xxx

When Harry walked into the room, with Lily by his side, Dumbledore knew with one glance, this boy would change the world. It was like his once-friend, Grindelwald, used to say, 'There are those that come into this world to live, and others who live to make the world their own.' This ten year old boy held that spark, that aura, which suggested he was destined for great many things. His heart clenched tightly as he remembered that day he went into the orphanage, so many years ago and met a young boy, similar in age to Harry, who held that same spark, that same aura. He too was destined to change the world, and Voldemort changed it indeed.

Dumbledore got up from his seat and walked around the table, just as Harry came further inside, followed by Lily.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling bright, "it's great to finally meet you. Allow me to introduce myself, I'm-"

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry spoke the name quietly, shadowed eyes fixed on him, "I know who you are."

The white haired wizard smiled at him.

"I doubt my name was mentioned in pleasant context."

A faint smirk lit across Harry's face.

"You can say that."

"Well, I can only hope to change your first impression." Dumbledore said with a small nod.

Harry didn't say anything but his eyes scanned the wizard with quiet intensity.

Lily ushered Harry to the table, where he sat between her and James. Dumbledore took his seat across from Harry.

"I can imagine this conversation is the last thing you want right now, Harry," Dumbledore started in a gentle voice, "but I hope you understand how important it is."

Harry nodded, feeling both his parents' eyes on him, pressing into his mind like physical weights.

"I do." he mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes glinted with something akin to triumph.

"The first question I want to ask you, is perhaps the most important one. If answered, we can get to Voldemort and stop him for good."

Harry tensed as soon as Voldemort was mentioned. He forced himself to sit still and kept his eyes locked with Dumbledore.

"Ask away." he replied quietly.

Dumbledore took in a breath.

"Where is Voldemort hiding?"

James and Lily both tensed as well. They looked at Harry, waiting for the answer.

"It's protected," Harry replied, "by the Fidelius charm."

James cursed quietly, but Harry still heard him. Dumbledore didn't look at all surprised.

"His secret keeper?"

"Himself." Harry answered.

Dumbledore nodded.

"It's not like Voldemort to trust anyone but himself. I had guessed as much." his eyes darted back to Harry and he inclined his head, "thank you, Harry, for confirming it."

Harry shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable with Dumbledore's gratitude.

"Do you know where any of his hideouts are?" Dumbledore asked, "any such place he visits often or has as a backup hideout?"

There were plenty. Harry was sure he knew only half of them. Lord Voldemort had many contingency plans in place. But he answered,

"No, I don't."

Dumbledore stared at him.

"What about his Death Eaters? Could you give a few names?"

Harry felt his heart twist. Death Eaters. He knew most of them. Some by name only, heard in passing from his father. But two Death Eaters he knew by face. Two Death Eaters he had grown up in the midst of and had cherished as much as he did his father. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry looked up to see James watching him closely, a strange sort of thirst in his eyes. He too was waiting for the names of Voldemort's followers with bated breath, as was Lily. Harry turned back to stare deep into Dumbledore's eyes.

"No," he replied, "I don't know anything about his Death Eaters."

Dumbledore didn't believe him. Harry could see that clearly in the calm blue eyes.

"Pardon me, Harry, but do you mean to say, in the last nine years that you have spent in Voldemort's company, you didn't hear even one mention of a Death Eater?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shrugged.

"I didn't spend that much time in his company." he replied. It was partly true. Voldemort was mostly away on assignments. "I was alone most of the time."

"Who looked after you?" Dumbledore asked.

"The house-elves." Harry replied automatically.

Dumbledore's eyes gazed at Harry, studying him.

"Do you know of his inner circle?"

"Only by reference. I don't know who the members are." Harry lied easily.

Dumbledore paused, his expression as calm and serene as ever but his eyes showed his troubled thoughts.

"Did you live in the same place as Voldemort?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Is this the same place his Death Eaters came to see him?"

"I don't know."

"You never saw or heard anything about Voldemort's followers?"

"I told you, I was mostly alone." Harry replied, "and it's not like father would discuss his Death Eaters with me."

The air suddenly became thick and taut with tension. Harry didn't realise what had happened. He looked from Dumbledore's saddened expression to his dad, surprised to see anger lurking in his eyes and his tightly clenched jaw. Then it came to him, like a tidal wave. He had said father. He had referred to Voldemort as father with his dad sitting right there.

The room quietened, with Harry looking firmly at the surface of the wooden table, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, mentally cursing himself for the slip up. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence.

"So, let me go over this once again," he started, "you can't tell me where Voldemort is, due to the Fidelius charm, you don't know any of his hideouts, or the identities of his Death Eaters?"

Harry glanced up at him, green eyes cold and hard all of a sudden.

"Not as informative as you'd imagined."

There was a definite tone of defiance there.

Dumbledore smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"The mind is a powerful thing, Harry. Perhaps, after some time, you may remember certain things you claim not to know today."

Harry's hands, under the table, clenched into fists.

"Seems unlikely." he said.

"Anything is a possibility." Dumbledore replied, "one only has to give it time and keep faith." He rose to his feet. "I have taken enough of your time today. I must take my leave. Thank you, Harry."

James hurried to his feet too.

"A quick word, before you go?"

Both men left the living room and went into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry," James said, the moment they entered, "I had no idea he would be like this."

James had assumed Harry would point blank refuse to answer a question, he never thought his ten year old would know how to manipulate the questions and answer but not give anything away.

"It's alright," Dumbledore replied, "it's quite understandable. Harry is bound to have natural, defensive instincts towards the place that was once his home, to people he once considered his family." he gave James a reassuring smile. "Give him time, James. Harry will open up, he just needs more time to settle first." he paused for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on James' shoulder. "It's nothing short of a miracle, that Harry's come back." he said. "Take everything in your stride and don't get upset if his tongue slips every now and again. It's only a word. Harry's father is and always will be you. No one can take that away, not even Voldemort."

James nodded, attempting a weak smile. Dumbledore left, using the kitchen fireplace to floo out, leaving James alone in troubled thoughts.

xxx

It was the weekend, and as Lily had promised, it was the day all of them were going shopping at Diagon Alley. Harry was less than enthusiastic, even though it was primarily a shopping trip for him.

"I need you there," Lily insisted, doing up Damien's laces. "I need to get you measured and get, well, everything!"

"You can just resize the clothes if they don't fit." Harry argued.

"What's the point in that?" Lily asked, "I want to get you properly measured and have an entire wardrobe tailored to you." she smiled, "doesn't that sound exciting?"

Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Not really."

"Are we both getting Moonies tops?" Damien asked, with a thrilled grin.

"Of course!" Lily beamed at him.

"Yeah!" Damien hopped on the spot and ran to get his coat.

"Glad to see someone's excited." Lily teased.

Harry gave a one shouldered shrug as he finished pulling on his shoes. He stood up and wrapped a scarf around his neck.

"Ready?" James asked, carrying Damien on his back.

Lily smiled and looked over at Harry. She held out a hand.

"Shall we?"

Harry got up and walked over, pulling on his gloves, but made a point of not holding her hand.

"I'm not a baby." he muttered.

Lily dropped her hand, looking a little crest fallen, but she brushed it aside.

"Let's go." she smiled.

"Watch out Diagon Alley," James laughed, "here come the Potters!"

xxx

Harry didn't know what to expect, as he stood before the brick wall at the back of a pub in London. He watched as his dad's wand danced around the wall, touching random bricks in some sort of an order. He found himself holding his breath as the bricks shifted and moved, sliding aside to reveal a gap, big enough for all of them to comfortably pass through. Harry stepped onto the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, mesmerised by the scene before him. There were shops lines along both sides, their windows displaying all sorts of things. He saw owls and cats advertised in a pet shop, cauldrons and glass phials in another, one had broomsticks, all shapes and sizes proudly displayed and one had popular books arranged neatly in the window.

James didn't miss the look of awe of his eldest son's face. Steeling himself, he asked,

"Have you ever been to Diagon Alley before?"

Harry shook his head, eyeing the Apothecary with interest.

"No, never."

James nodded, hiding his grief behind a strict mask of calmness. Diagon Alley was an experience every child should have. But for Harry, it was merely another joy on a long list of things he had missed out on.

"Well," he managed in a soft voice, "I think a tour is in order."

Clapping a hand over Harry's shoulder, James steered him to his favourite store, 'Quidditch Supplies'. Lily groaned and took Damien's hand.

"I'll just pop into the book store." she said and hurried off, dragging Damien with her.

James and Harry walked into 'Quidditch Supplies' to see it was bustling with people, mostly young boys and girls, around Harry's age and slightly older. James veered his way through the crowd, coming to stop next to a gleaming wooden broom, held under a glass display case. Harry stared at it. It was light brown, every twig in place, a gold cap on it's tip and what looked like grips carved into the front, for an easier handle on the broom. It extruded a radiance he had never seen before. Then again, he hadn't seen a new broom in all it's glory before. Lucius had given Harry his first broom, but it was nothing like this one.

"Isn't she a beauty?" James grinned.

Harry simply nodded, awestruck.

"The new Firebolt 1800." James announced, his eyes sparkling with delight. "This one is a must have."

The shop owner was by James' side in a flash, having recognised his regular customer.

"Mr Potter! What an honour!" the man shook hands with James. "What can I do for you today?"

"Your Firebolt 1800, please." James beamed.

"Certainly, certainly, come this way and we'll get the paperwork signed. You've brought your licence I presume."

"Of course," James turned around to Harry, "I'll just be a minute, stay here, okay?"

Harry nodded and watched James disappear into the crowd again, to go to the counter and make his purchase. Harry cast another glance at the broom, smiling at the sight of it.

"Isn't she something!" a boy said from behind him. Harry turned around to see a group of boys, most of them red haired, except for one brown haired boy, all staring at the Firebolt with wide grins.

"I bet you could reach the stars with this one." said the youngest looking red haired boy, eyes wide and filled with wonder.

"Aye, Ronniekins! That's exactly where it takes you!" teased another red haired boy, who happened to have an identical twin, standing next to him.

"You wanna see stars? We can arrange that." the other twin said.

"Shove off!" the boy, 'Ronniekins' mumbled back.

"I don't like Firebolts." the brown haired boy said. "I think the Nimbus range is much better."

Harry recognised him. He was Neville Longbottom. The Chosen one. Harry had seen his picture in the Daily Prophet numerous time. He was the one destined to destroy Lord Voldemort, according to a Prophecy. Harry felt his heart jolt at the sight of him. Voldemort never seemed too interested in Neville Longbottom, now Harry understood why. Voldemort knew Neville wasn't the chosen one, the chosen one was under his control the whole time.

"There's a new Nimbus coming out next year, Nimbus 2000!" the boy dubbed 'Ronniekins' said excitedly. "It's preview was in 'Quidditch Weekly', it looks amazing!"

"I'll be saving up for that." Neville smiled, but his soft brown eyes darted to the Firebolt once again.

The group of boys moved past Harry and headed out the door. Harry stared after them.

"Right, that's us, shall we go?" James came up behind him.

Harry turned to look at him, noting the rectangular box with the red letters, 'FIREBOLT 1800' printed across it, in his hand. He nodded.

"Yeah, let's go."

They walked out the door and set off further down the cobbled street, heading for the bookshop that Lily was in. They passed various shops on their way, some selling telescopes, some with barrels full of eels eyes and bat spleens and many, many other potions ingredients. They passed a shop with peeling gold letters over the door which read, Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Harry slowed down, staring at the shop window, where a single wand lay, on a faded purple cushion.

James noted his interest and looked up at the wand shop.

"A bit early for a wand." he mused.

Harry snapped his head around in surprise.

"What?" he looked across at the shop again, "no, I was just...looking."

James grinned.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll be preparing for school soon. You'll get your first wand then."

Harry's stomach clenched tightly. First wand? He had left his first wand, back where he had left his former life, with Lord Voldemort.

xxx

They finally reached Flourish and Botts, in time to see Lily and Damien walk out, a heavy looking bag in Lily's hands.

"Got a month's worth?" James teased.

"Very funny," Lily handed him the bag. "This'll only last a week."

James groaned playfully.

"Why did I get a wife who loves to read!"

Lily raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's a book on Quidditch teams in there."

James' eyes lit up.

"I've fallen in love with you all over again."

Lily chuckled, before her eyes went to the box in his hands.

"Aw, James! Another broom? Don't we have enough?"

"It's the new Firebolt!" James defended, "I wanted Harry to have the best to learn Quidditch."

Harry jerked his head up in surprise.

"Me?" he questioned, "you got the Firebolt for me?"

"Of course I did, who did you think I was getting it for?" James asked with a laugh.

"I...I thought, it was for you." Harry replied honestly.

James chuckled, shaking his head,

"It's for you. Only the best for my boy."

Harry felt his heart flutter at his words. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. It was perhaps the biggest, brightest smile James and Lily had yet to see. It was enough to make Lily fall quiet and not complain about the broom.

"How about we go for some ice cream?" she said, to instant hoots of joy from Damien.

"What about the shopping?" James asked.

"We've yet to start on the real shopping." Lily smiled, "you boys better stock up on sugar, you're going to need it to keep up."

xxx

When they walked towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Harry saw a long line, queued outside the door, as well as large groups gathered, sitting at the tables, enjoying their iced treats. Sitting across what looked like three tables joined together, were the red haired boys Harry had seen at the Quidditch shop. He spotted Neville, among the crowd of red heads. Next to them were two women, one red haired, undoubtedly the mother of the red haired clan, and a round faced, brown haired women that looked surprisingly familiar to Harry. It was only as he neared them, that Harry realised where he had seen her. She had been at Godric's Hollow that night. The night he had returned.

They were all sitting there, chatting animatedly. There were seven red haired children, lined along the table, six boys and one girl. Harry noticed the young girl first. Her flaming red hair was pulled up in a pony tail, a yellow ribbon tied around it, matching the yellow dress she was wearing. She was talking to Neville, showing him something in her hands. Harry couldn't see what it was.

"Lily! James!" the brown haired women called out, having spotted them. She waved a hand at them.

"Oh my!" Lily happily hurried towards them, "fancy seeing you two here."

"Lily, how have you been?" the red haired women was up on her feet, hurrying to embrace her, "I brought the kids for a last trip. They go back to Hogwarts tomorrow."

The brown haired women was next to hug Lily.

"It's so nice to run into you like this." she said. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"We're all here." Lily said, she looked behind her, where James was walking up with Harry and Damien by his side.

The two women locked eyes on Harry and fell still. The nearer Harry approached them, the more uncomfortable he felt at their never wavering stare. The group of eight at the table were suddenly staring at him too, leaning towards each other to whisper with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. But he pushed on, only stopping when James and Damien came to rest before the trio of women.

"How are you ladies?" James asked both women, "I see your husbands have escaped this shop-till-you-drop torture today."

Molly smiled.

"Not at all, Arthur and Frank are at the Burrow, preparing dinner."

"Ah, a different sort of torture then?" James chuckled.

"Some men like to cook." Lily informed him.

"Yeah, but Arthur and Frank? not those type of men." James teased.

Lily ignored him and quickly put an arm around Harry, pulling the unwilling boy forward.

"Harry, I would like you to meet two of my very good friends." she pointed at the red haired woman, "Molly Weasley," she turned to the other one, "and Alice Longbottom."

Harry stared at the latter, now that he heard her surname, he connected her features with her son. The same round face, soft brown eyes and gentle expression. The woman smiled at him.

"It's very nice to see you again, Harry," Alice greeted, "have you been enjoying Diagon Alley?"

Harry nodded, half heartedly.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Molly smiled, "goodness, you look so much like James." she chuckled.

Harry didn't react. Growing up, he had spent each day, resenting the face that stared back at him from his mirror. A little over a week ago, if anyone had said he looked like James Potter, Harry would have struck them down in sheer anger. Now, he knew that anger, that resentment was ill placed, but that didn't make it go away.

Alice turned to Lily.

"Come and join us!"

Much to Harry's chagrin, James and Lily hurried to settle themselves at the busy table. Reluctantly, Harry joined them, sitting between Lily and Damien.

"Hi boys," James greeted the large group, grinning at them. He lifted an imaginary hat and gave a half nod to the only girl, "miss."

The girl giggled.

"Mr Potter." Neville returned the greeting but looked between him and Harry. The other boys were also staring, looking between Harry and James. Taking the hint, James turned to Harry with a smile.

"Everyone, this is Harry," he introduced, "Harry, I would like you to meet Neville Longbottom," James pointed to the brown haired boy, "and these are the Weasley Boys!" he laughed, gesturing to the red haired boys. "This is Bill," he pointed to the boy with long hair, "this is Charlie, Percy" he went down the table, "these two, one is Fred and the other is George," he pointed at the smirking twins, "I've given up trying to figure out which is which."

"Smart move," one of the twins said.

"Our mum still can't tell us apart!" the other added.

James sniggered. He pointed to the youngest red haired boy, the one his siblings had nicknamed, 'Ronniekins'.

"And this is Ron."

The boy nodded at Harry, but didn't speak.

"And last but not in any way the least," James smiled at the girl in yellow, "little Miss Ginny."

Harry met her brown eyes.

"Hi." she greeted, the only one to do so.

"Hi." Harry quietly replied.

Neville and the other Weasley boys were all staring at Harry, something shifting in their eyes as they shared looks and glances. Harry tried to ignore them, but it was proving to be a difficult feat.

"I think the queues going down a little." Alice looked behind her at the door to the ice cream parlour. "You better go if you want any." she nodded at her son.

Neville got up, followed by the other seven.

"It's alright, I'll get them." James made to get up but Molly and Alice stopped him.

"No, let them," Alice gave a pointed gesture at Harry, "it's good for young men to carry some of the responsibility."

James caught on and turning to Harry, he held out a handful of shiny gold coins.

"Get yourself and Damy some ice cream."

Harry looked over at him and then turned to look at the assembled crowd, still staring at him. He wanted to shake his head and refuse, but Damien had already leapt to his feet and went scrambling towards the queue, Ginny running after him. Wearily, he accepted the coins and got up.

He walked to the end of the queue, just behind Damien and Ginny and waited. The crowd of Weasleys and Neville came up behind him.

"So," Neville spoke, getting Harry's attention. He turned to face him and the other six boys, "it's true then. There really is a Harry Potter."

"Seems like it." Harry returned, his tone cold and harsh.

But Neville didn't seem to mind. His face broke into a smile.

"I was sure my parents were having me on." he said.

"Is it true?" Ron suddenly spoke up, sounding terrified, "did...did you really live with...with You-Know-Who all this time?"

"Ron!" Bill snapped, pulling him back by the arm, "what did I say? Don't ask him about that! It's none of your business!"

But Damien had turned around at Ron's question.

"It's true," he answered, as easily as if he were talking about the weather, "mum told me so."

Ron looked back at Harry, blue eyes big and fearful.

"Blimey, that must have been..." he swallowed heavily, trailing off, finding no word to describe what it must have been like to grow up in the clutches of the darkest wizard of all time.

Harry turned around, facing away from them all, his annoyance starting to cloud his senses.

"Don't mind him," Bill said from behind him, "Ron's just having a hard time believing it."

Harry scoffed,

"Try living it." he muttered under his breath.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Ron said, making Harry turn around again, "I never meant...I was just askin'..." he trailed off again. Suddenly he stepped forward and thrust out a hand. "Ronald Weasley." he stated.

Harry blinked at him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Starting over," Ron replied, "if you mess up, you can start over."

"Says who?" Harry asked.

"The Weasleys." Ron replied, simply.

Harry looked warily at him.

"There's no such thing as a 'start over'." he said.

Ron looked a little dejected but he kept his hand outstretched.

"There is if you try."

Harry stared at him, perplexed at the boy's strange antics.

"Here, I'll start," Neville stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Neville Longbottom." he shook hands with Ron.

"Ronald Weasley." Ron grinned.

Both boys turned to Harry.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville held out a hand.

Feeling utterly ridiculous, Harry reached out and shook hands.

"You know who I am." he said, dryly.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a clue who you are." Neville feigned confusion. "Are you a celebrity?"

"No." Harry replied.

"Then how would I know who you are?"

"For real?" Harry asked.

Neville grinned at him.

"Don't make it so hard, just say your bloody name already!" he laughed.

Harry, despite his confusion and irritation, felt a smile spread on his face.

"You lot are mad," he muttered and took Neville's outstretched hand with a sigh, "Harry Potter."

"There, that wasn't difficult, was it?" Neville grinned.

"Ronald Weasley." Ron thrust out his hand again.

"Harry Potter." Harry smiled, shaking hands with him as well.

"Fred Weasley!" one of the twins held out a hand next.

"George Weasley!" the other one jumped in.

Harry shook hands with all of them, barely holding back his laughter at how utterly ridiculous this was. Just as he finished shaking hands with Ginny, Damien held out his hand.

"Damien Potter!"

Harry finally laughed, shaking his own brother's hand and introducing himself.

"So, Harry," Ron started, "who's your favourite team?"

xxx

Lily watched as the children walked out of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, each clutching an ice cream cone, topped high with layers of different flavours. She smiled deeply as she noticed Harry, clearly enjoying his ice cream, talking with Ron and Neville. Harry took small, almost experimental, licks of his vanilla ice cream, while the other two boys tore great chunks out of their rainbow coloured ones. Ginny and Damien were by their side, eagerly devouring their cones as well. Lily tensed, watching Damien as he turned to say something to Ginny, his hand tilted and sure enough, with a plop, his ice cream fell to the floor, leaving an empty cone in his hand.

"Oh, dear!" Alice, beside her, chuckled.

"He does this every time." Lily sighed. She gathered her handbag, so she could take Damien back into the ice cream parlour and get him another one.

Lily was about to get up when she saw Harry at Damien's side. Damien was pointing at his ruined ice cream, looking upset enough to cry. Harry looked from the blob on the ground to Damien's distressed face and without hesitation, he held out his own ice cream to the seven year old. Damien reached for the offered cone but stopped, his little face turned upwards to Harry and he spoke, asking him something. Harry smiled in response and shook his head. Damien took the cone, grinning wildly and began devouring the ice cream with earnest.

Lily watched as Harry went back to Ron and Neville, back to their conversation, looking happier than ever. Lily wasn't sure why, but the scene she witnessed brought tears to her eyes. She met Alice's eyes and saw her smiling warmly as well.

"He's a sweetheart." she whispered across to Lily.

Lily nodded, she couldn't help but agree.

xxx

After their ice cream treat and bidding farewell to the Weasleys and Longbottoms, Harry was led to many, many shops. He got shoes, seven pairs for different occasions, several new sets of undergarments, an assortment of clothing, ranging from jeans to simple shirts and tops. He got the promised Moonies top, even though he vehemently objected. Damien got a matching top and was ecstatic.

Finally, it was only the robes left. The Potters went to Madame Fiona's Finest Robes, to get an entire wardrobe custom made to Harry's size.

"Not a problem, not a problem at all," the elderly witch stated at Lily's request. "I will show you some of our new and finest collections." She stared at Harry over her glasses, perched at the very end of her sharp nose. "But first thing's first, let's get those measurements." she beckoned him to follow her into the next room, which had a raised platform, a tape measure hovering in mid air and a notepad and quill.

James stopped Harry with a grave look on his face.

"Make sure you hold still, otherwise you'll get ill fitted clothes!" James pulled a face, eyes widened dramatically, holding up a hand to his mouth in mocked horror.

"James," Lily shook her head, "act your age, will you?"

"Never!" James claimed, hands on hips and pushing out his chest. Damien giggled at the sight.

Harry, despite his best efforts, chuckled.

James beamed at him, immensely proud of himself for making his ten year old son laugh.

"Come along dear," the tailor witch guided Harry out the door and into the fitting room.

James and Lily watched through the glass window, separating the rooms.

"Right, come along dear. Just stand here, on top of this platform, there's a good boy!" the witch smiled, her tape measure floated behind her as she fussed over Harry. "Right, now, hold still." she flicked her wand and the tape floated to his right shoulder, straightening down to his feet.

Harry saw James and Lily through the glass window, watching him. James pulled a funny face, scrunching up his features. Harry grinned. James pointed at the tailor's back and pulled his glasses down to perch at the end of his nose and mimicked her, hand on hip, an imaginary tape measure in hand as he began taking Lily's measurements, even as she slapped his hands away. Harry giggled and the tailor frowned at him.

"You have to hold still, dear."

Harry nodded and stood up straight, grinning at James' antics behind the glass. Even his mum was fighting a smile, shaking her head at her husband. Harry stood as still as he could, holding in his laughter at the sight of James pulling faces at him. He knew he was doing it on purpose, to make him laugh and move so the tailor witch fussed over him and took new measurements.

Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at James mimicking the tailor. He peeked open an eye and instantly, James started pulling faces again, so Harry shut both eyes, trembling a little as giggles threatened to burst out of him.

"Hold still, dear. That a boy!" the witch said, jotting down figures on her notepad.

Harry straightened up and kept his eyes closed. He wasn't going to let his dad win. Grinning, he opened his eyes again, only to shut them tightly when James started monkey dancing, with a giggling Lily, urging him to stop and keep quiet.

"Quit it, James! It's not funny!" Lily's laughing voice could be heard from the open door.

"Your father seems awfully hyper." The witch commented absently, taking the measurement of his chest.

Harry smiled, still with his eyes closed.

"Yeah, too much sugar today." he replied.

In a flash, his grin changed when his scar gave a sudden twinge and pain erupted along it. Harry cried out in surprise, a hand darted to his scar and his eyes flew open.

The witch looked up at him with concern.

"What happen-?"

A series of loud pops drowned out the rest of her question. Dark robed men, wearing white masks appeared out of thin air, lining along the walls of the fitting room, surrounding them. A last pop brought with it the tall, dark robed wizard with burning red eyes and a cruel twisted smile.

Harry met Lord Voldemort's eyes and it was as if time had slowed down for him. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at him.

"Harry!"

His parents' scream snapped Harry awake and he jolted off the platform, almost tripping over the tape, tangled in his feet. He turned and darted for the door, despite the Death Eaters around him. He could see his mum and dad, running towards him. The door slammed shut, before Harry or his parents could get near it.

"Harry! Harry!"

Loud thumps and bangs hit the door as James and Lily pounded at the wood. But Harry knew they weren't going to get inside. No spell or amount of brute force was going to get that door opened, not when Lord Voldemort had closed it. He turned around, his heart beating frantically in his chest and he met the amused red eyes of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side and gazed at Harry, a smile tugged at his lips.

"Harry," he greeted, the name rolling off his tongue with pleasure.

James and Lily had stopped trying to open the door and had rushed back to the window, trying with all their might to break the glass and get to Harry. The Death Eaters raised their wands, aiming at the window. A strange pulsating light covered the entire glass, protecting it, making it unbreakable. But it still allowed the two panicked parents to see through it and watch their worst nightmare come to life. Voldemort glanced over at the Potters and smirked at their frenzied attack. He stepped towards Harry and only then, did he notice the trembling woman, cowering in the corner. He looked down at her with distaste.

"A Mudblood, tailoring your clothes?" he asked. He clicked his tongue as he turned to look at Harry, "you know that's not acceptable."

His wand was pointed at the witch in the blink of an eye.

"Avada Kedevra!"

A blast of green hit the witch and the woman's scream echoed in the room, tearing into Harry, startling him. Harry watched, horrified as the elderly woman slumped to the ground, her glasses askew, eyes still open, the expression of fear forever imprinted in them.

Voldemort smiled at Harry and stepped towards him. At once, Harry stepped back.

"You stay away from him!" James' faint cry from behind the glass made Voldemort smile. He turned to look at him and his red eyes flashed in amusement. James pounded at the glass. He picked up a chair and hurled it at the window, but the glass stayed put, under the Death Eater's spell.

Voldemort turned his attention back to Harry, noticing how nervous Harry was, how his breathing was heavier and faster, like he had been running. He also picked up the scent of fear on him. Harry was afraid. It came as rather a surprise to the Dark Lord.

The nearer Voldemort approached, the further Harry backed away. Voldemort only smiled and continued, ignoring Harry's reaction and the muffled threats screamed at him from James behind the glass.

"I'm surprised at you, Harry," Voldemort said as he sauntered up to him, "you hear one story from a no good Death Eater and you run away?" he tutted at him, "I thought I had raised you better than that?"

Harry backed up against a wall. He stood there, his mouth dry and his voice caught somewhere in his chest.

"Well," Voldemort sighed, "you've had your fun at rebellion, enough is enough." he beckoned him over, "we're going home."

Harry shook his head.

"I'm not going with you." he managed to force the words out of his tightly coiled throat.

The Dark Lord looked mildly impressed.

"Really?" he asked, "what are you going to do?"

Harry didn't reply, but planted his feet firmly to the ground. Voldemort glanced at the still screaming James and Lily, picking up the faint sound of a child's loud cries coming from somewhere in the next room.

"You know I don't have a problem with killing them," he gestured to the window, "the only reason I haven't yet, is because I thought it would be amusing to see their reaction when you leave with me."

Harry's panicked gaze darted to his parents, meeting both James and Lily's wide, horror-stricken eyes. He looked back at Voldemort, angrily.

"That's all you can do!" he hissed at him, "kill people, force others to obey you?" he shook his head. "Go ahead! I'd rather die than go anywhere with you!"

Voldemort looked somewhat amused.

"Ten days away from home and you're ready to kill yourself." he chuckled quietly.

"It's not my home," Harry said, "it was never my home."

Voldemort's amusement quickly melted. His eyes flashed and Harry felt his scar throb fiercely.

"Your home is where you've been for the last nine years." he pointed out. "It's where you belong."

"You took me from my home," Harry said, feeling his eyes burn suddenly. "You lied to me." he accused in a chocked voice.

Voldemort walked closer, only coming to stop when he was towering over the boy. James and Lily's cries increased in vigour, as did their relentless attack on the window. But Voldemort simply ignored them. He pressed one hand against the wall, next to Harry's head and leaned in to speak to him.

"Yes, I lied to you. I did what I had to." he said in a low voice, "I did what I needed to to gain your trust and loyalty." he straightened up, smirking, "and it worked. You're committed to me. Even now, while you seemingly left me, you are still loyal to me."

"I'm not!" Harry objected.

"Yes, you are, Harry." Voldemort smiled, "if you weren't, I would've had the Order or the Ministry come knocking at my door by now." he smirked at Harry's discomfort. "It's been ten days and you haven't disclosed any of my secrets."

"I don't want anything to do with you," Harry replied, "that includes talking about you."

Voldemort shook his head.

"Don't lie, Harry. You know why you've not said a word to anyone." his eyes glittered like rubies, "you're my son and a son won't do anything to harm his father."

Harry shook his head.

"You're not my father."

Red eyes flashed and Harry gasped, grabbing his forehead, his scar ached in agony. It dulled after a moment and shakily, Harry looked up to see Voldemort's angered expression.

"You're forgetting your manners, Harry," he warned dangerously, "I've tolerated a lot from you, but this I won't tolerate!"

Harry took in deep breaths, his scar burning with ferocity.

"It's the truth," Harry panted, "my father is the one who never used me, who never hurt me."

Voldemort's gaze went to James Potter, who was still trying to get into the room, alternating between trying to break the window and the door.

"Him?" he asked derisively, "you think he loves you?" he asked.

"I know he does." Harry declared.

"For how long?" Voldemort asked. "He may claim to love you now, but will he still love you once he finds out what you've done? What you've become?"

Harry stilled, fear filled his eyes and Voldemort smiled at the sight of it.

"He...he won't care." Harry weakly argued.

"Is that why you've told him about that night?" Voldemort asked. "You did tell him and your dear mudblood mother about the Death Eater you killed? Didn't you?"

Harry didn't answer. His heart jolted with fear that his parents might have heard Voldemort. He looked to them but both were so worked up, trying to smash their way in, the loud bangs and thuds against the door and window and Damien's loud panicked crying must be drowning out all of his and Voldemort's conversation.

"Why would you keep it a secret?" Voldemort asked. He smirked coldly at the boy. "Is it because you know what they would do to you, if they found out?" he asked.

Harry couldn't answer. He tried, willed his mouth to open and say something, anything! But he couldn't.

"You think they will accept you after they learn what you did?" Voldemort asked. He leaned in closer, "you know they won't, Harry. You know what they'll do." he whispered, "that's why you haven't told them yet. You know they will disown you. They don't want a child with darkness inside him. They are followers of the light. Once they see who you really are, what you have done, they will turn on you."

Harry shook his head, but his fear had stolen his voice. He stared at Voldemort, wanting desperately not to believe him, to forget what his mum had said only days ago, 'no mercy for those that take a life!'

"No." he whispered.

"They will hate you," Voldemort continued, whispering to him, "once they learn you've killed, spilt the blood of a human, they will condemn you."

"No," Harry shook his head, pleading, "no, they won't."

Voldemort fell quiet and for a moment, he just stared at Harry.

"I came with the intention of taking you back with me." Voldemort said, "no matter what happened, no matter how many I had to kill, you were coming back with me today." he pulled back, staring hard at the boy, "but now, now I'll wait. You will come back to me yourself!" he hissed, eyes burning, "and you will beg me to take away your memories. Once your dear loving parents turn on you, and trust me Harry, they will, once you realise that you don't fit in, that you don't belong anywhere, except by my side, you will come home yourself!"

Harry glared at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Voldemort smirked, his gaze taking in every detail of the boy, before he straightened up.

"Don't take too long." he told him.

He reached out, to caress Harry's dark locks but stopped when Harry purposefully moved his head to the side, jaw clenched and eyes shut tight. Voldemort smirked, his hand halted mid action. He dropped his hand away and in a flash, he and his Death Eaters were gone. The door unlocked instantly. Harry opened his eyes when he felt the ache in his scar disappear completely.

The door was pushed open and James and Lily darted inside.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay?" James ran to him, engulfing the boy in a crushing embrace.

Harry clung to James, his knees were threatening to give out under him, his breathing harsh and strained as he felt his eyes water suddenly. Lily was hugging him too, crying soundlessly.

"You're okay, thank God! You're okay!" she sobbed.

But Harry could barely hear her, the sound of his own blood roared in his ears. The challenge his former father left him, echoed in his mind.

'You will come back to me yourself!...

you will beg me to take away your memories...

your dear loving parents will turn on you...

you don't fit in this world...

you don't belong anywhere...except by my side...

you will come home yourself!'

xxx