Disclaimer: All HP characters are the property of JKR, the WB, and respective publishing companies - this is nothing more than a simple FanFiction that I have written. I have made no money from this or any of the other stories I have posted on this or other sites.

AN: Story beta'd by my R/L daughter Sillyhobbit.


Chapter 8: Calculating the Domino Effect

June 20, 1985 5:43 AM

Two days had passed since the wild evacuation had taken place and Trevor still had not been found. Lettie had spent much of the time reading stories to a sleeping Harry, for the boy had not woken once since he'd been moved. This morning, as Lettie dozed fitfully beside his bed, Harry began whimpering in fear and pain. The sound drew the attention of nearly everyone in the room, barring the goblins that visited quite often with news and supplies. Lettie quickly took his tiny hand in hers and tried soothing him.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's alright darling," Leticia whispered softly. "You aren't alone."

"Darrrr," Harry cracked before he started coughing.

"Take a sip of this, kiddo," Jake instructed has he stepped up on the other side of the bed and held a straw to the boy's mouth. "It will help your throat feel better."

Harry tentatively sipped. His eyes seemed to fly open in shock the moment he tasted the drink.

"Tasty?" Jake asked knowingly. "Now, what is it you were trying to tell us?"

"Darrk," Harry drawled carefully, "hurtss."

"Here, take another drink, it will help make the pain go away. I'll see if we can get some more light over here for you in a bit. Ms. Hall, offer him a sip of this any time he indicates the pain comes back."

Leticia accepted the heavy vial with the glass straw curiously as it appeared to hold nothing but water. "What is it, exactly?"

"Combination nutrient and pain killing potion, developed specifically in mind for young children who were severely injured and unable to handle the higher magical potions that taste fairly vile."

"No such thing as magic," Harry insisted dully from between them.

"Of course there is, Harry!" Jake countered somewhat surprised. "Would you like me to show you?"

"No."

"Oh, well, then you'll have to close your eyes because I need to clean your sheets."

Jake waited until Harry had firmly closed his eyes and than levitated the boy into the air about a foot. The tiny boy's eyes flew open in shock once more for a second before he squeezed them tightly shut while fisting his hands in his hospital gown. Jake chuckled softly as he flicked his wand to clean the sheets with a quick spell before gently placing the boy back on the bed.

"All done," the healer announced as he began checking the many bandages that covered the boy. "I think we can take out your stitches now too, as everything seems to be healing quite nicely."

"Stit… stitches?" Harry asked as he carefully peeked out of one eye to stare at the healer in disbelief.

"Yes, stitches. Tiny bits of special thread that holds big cuts closed so they heal. The doctors had to make several cuts to get out the glass that was under your skin. They used the stitches to hold the incisions closed after the finished so your skin would heal properly."

"Oh."

"I'll be using more magic to take them out, would you like to watch this time?"

Harry opened his other eye and tentatively nodded. Jake grinned and lifted Harry's left hand in his, turning it gently so the boy could see the long line of stitches across the palm of his hand. Harry frowned at the sight but didn't say anything. Jake then placed the tip of his wand against the first stitch in the row and whispered, "Evanesco" while tapping his wand gently. Harry gasped when the stitch melted out of sight.

"See, magic," Jake said as he continued to tap each stitch in the row.

Harry avidly watched the healer vanish as many of the stitches he could see from his prone position. Jake holding his arms and legs up to make it easier when possible. By the time the last stitch was removed, vanished from the incision sight on the back of his head, Harry was just beginning to accept that magic might actually be real. This confused the small boy, making him wonder why his aunt and uncle would tell him lies or if he was just dreaming freaky things again. He wanted to ask them but feared he'd asked too many questions already and he was feeling more than a little tired after watching the healer work on him for so long. In the end, he slipped back into his dreams before he could make up his mind.

"Using magic on him won't hurt him now?" Lettie asked after Jake had finished removing the stitches.

"No, it will still interfere with his somewhat wild magic but it is no longer causing the severe disruption that it did previously. I scanned him carefully right after we arrived so I could make arrangements to obtain muggle medical supplies should we need them. From here on out we'll be able to use limited amount of magic, which means his recovery time should be cut in half. He still has a long way to go though."

"Is that why you removed the IV and PICC lines?"

"Yes, they were cumbersome and far more invasive than I truly felt comfortable with. It is barbaric, from a wizarding standpoint, to cut into the human body. As a healer, I understand the need for muggles to treat injuries the way they do but most other wizards would be sickened by such a sight. Another reason we wanted to keep young Harry tucked away out of sight. Riots would have broken out because the general wizarding public wouldn't have understood. Only those of us in constant contact with the muggle world know the truth in cases like these. The rest of the population chooses to hide their heads in the sand and shun what they can't understand."

Any reply Leticia was going to make was cut off abruptly when the stone door to the room slammed open and six goblins dragged in a slightly battered and beaten Trevor Matheson. Jake was at the squib's side running his wand up and down Trevor's frame before Lettie could fully register what was happening.

"How bad is he?" Klouse asked as he joined the healer.

"Not too bad, he's lost a bit of blood, has several bruises, and is suffering from dehydration but he'll be fine by tomorrow without a doubt. He should wake up in short order too. Let's get him onto one of the benches."

The two men carefully levitated the older man onto the nearest stone bench. Klouse covered him with a blanket while Jake healed him with a few spells before sitting him up and pouring a thickish red potion down the unconscious man's throat.

"Where did they find him?" Lettie asked as she approached the three men.

"We didn't find him," Backbiter clarified as he swept into the room looking fairly irate. "He found us. Stirred up quite the hornet's nest he did, when he Portkeyed onto one of the main goblin counters during the middle of a transaction; frightening a witch who'd been selling some old family jewelry for galleons. "

"Where'd he get the portkey?"

"That is what caused the hornet's nest. No human is allowed to own or use a portkey that can enter Gringotts; unless given special dispensation by one of the upper level managers (such as the one authorized to move the boy down into the caverns). The bank has been locked down, with the customers being confined to one of the conference rooms while we investigate matters. Trevor in the mean time has been declared a prisoner of the bank and Chief Ragnok is threatening the Minister of Magic with war due to a perceived breach of the treaty signed between the goblins and the Ministry. I am here to question our friend."

"Wasn't a portkey," Trevor coughed as he opened his eyes and turned slowly to face the goblin. "It was disillusioned phoenix drop. Dumbledore wanted me discredited and neutralized before tomorrow's planned conference and he was most angry when he learned the muggles granted me custody of Harry. His pet Death Eater was the one who broke into our offices. I was there when he entered through the back door. He was surprised to find me in the building and we brawled for several minutes before I managed to trip the wards sending out the alert. Dumbledore it seems; has a few toys that allow his people to bypass certain security measures."

"Anyway, we fought for a bit, and then he must have either stunned me or knocked me unconscious because when I next woke up I was in what I assume was Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was extremely upset that Snape had been seen, let alone that the man had kidnapped me. He would have probably magicked a stone to my feet and dropped me in the school's lake if not for Kingsley's timely arrival. Shack couldn't see me; the old man had dropped an invisibility cloak over me and silenced me so I couldn't make a sound. I didn't hear much of what they talked about, I was half out of it and still groggy from whatever Snape had hit me with."

"After Shack left though, Dumbledore set me up in front of his desk and lectured me about all the problems I was causing for him. He then used forced Legilimency on me to raid my memories. Something went wrong when he accessed or tried to access certain memories though. I remember him screaming in pain and Snape firing a stunner at my face. When I woke up next, Dumbledore attempted to Obliviate both my memories of Harry and knowledge of being attacked by both Snape and himself. I'm thank it backfired spectacularly (though I doubt he knows that just yet) and once again I was stunned. I woke once more in his office while he was spelling his glorified post-owl invisible before he ordered it to drop me off in the middle of the bank from a height of no less than ten feet so as to give the appearance of a portkey drop. Damned pigeon simply picked me up, flashed me away, and let me go."

"You feel up to having the memory pulled?"

"No, but do it anyway. I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Trevor insisted as he closed his eyes and nodded.

Klouse immediately began pulling out a huge strand of memory while Backbiter conjured up a temporary vial to hold it. The moment the memory pulled loose, Trevor slipped back into unconsciousness.

Backbiter quickly copied the memory and ordered one of the goblin soldiers standing nearby to send it up to Chief Ragnok, post haste, with an outraged growl. There were only three ways to piss off a goblin; one was to steal from them, another was to stand in the way of a goblin dealing out goblin justice, and the last was to lie to a goblin. Dumbledore had just done all three, if in an indirect and round about way. He had lied to the entire goblin nation (in the form of faking a portkey breach of the bank), he'd attempted to force their hand into meting out justice against an innocent which would have broken the long held treaty between goblins and wizards, and the results would have cost the goblins more than one half of their assets; hence the threat of theft.

With proof of his crimes in the form of Trevor's memory (who had been quite lucid at the time of Dumbledore ordered him to be dropped off at the bank) Dumbledore would soon become persona non grata with the entire goblin nation. Trevor on the other hand, would be compensated heavily for the near fatal mistake of holding him as a prisoner who faced a quick execution at the least. The monies awarded to the squib would be pulled directly from Dumbledore's rather more than modest vault after the goblins confiscated the contents. So, while Dumbledore would retain his properties, he'd never again be allowed to hold a vault with the bank let alone allowed to step foot inside the back, which meant his cash funds would be severely limited as in order to collect his pay from his various positions, he'd need both the vault and permission to be on Gringotts property.

While the goblins were processing Dumbledore's severe breach of trust, Klouse began preparing a new case against the aging wizard and his lackey Snape. Combined with Harry's case against Dumbledore, the old man was going to be caught firmly between a rock and a hard place. At the same time, starting the day after Trevor's disappearance, a series of Daily Prophet articles appeared, complete with explicit (and highly classified) photos of Harry's tale of abuse at the hands of his muggle family. It seems one Rita Skeeter had been on the scene during Snape's break in and used the opportunity to sneak into the office in disguise. When she didn't find any evidence, she later hitched a ride on one of the aurors to investigate the scene and was unknowingly led directly to one of the evidence caches within the ministry. She promptly emptied said cache and used what she found to splash her sensationalized article all over the wizarding paper.

Amelia was furious about the leak and fighting to contain the growing mobs that had taken to marching on the Ministry during all hours of the day and night. Minister Fudge was in a complete panic, Lucius Malfoy suspiciously smug, Delores Umbridge secretly gleeful, and the many departmental heads outraged, ashamed, or horrified depending on their views.

On the day of Trevor's return, things had progressed to the point where that the wizarding world had effectively ground to a halt in the wake of the poignant articles. By comparison, in the muggle world, things moved along as scheduled and expected as the day of the Dursley's trial finally arrived.

June 21, 1985 8:00 AM

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Taylor," the bailiff cried out once the defense had been seated.

"Please be seated. Bailiff, what is our first case?" Judge Taylor instructed as he settled into his seat and banged the gavel.

"Your Honor, our first case on our books is The Crown versus Dursley."

"Very well, is the Prosecution ready? Is the Defense ready? Good, the Prosecution may make opening statements."

Klouse rose from his seat and addressed the courts, "Your honor, members of the jury, I hold in my hand less than a dozen photographs of Harry James Potter, who is unable to attend the trial at this time due to his continued hospitalization at a private clinic. This first image is one of only a couple dozen such photos that were taken on April thirtieth this year when officers removed the child from his prison cell, in the form of a cupboard under the stairs of a two story, four bedroom town house, on the premises of Number Four Privet Drive. The registered home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, the defendants."

"Prior to the date these images were taken, there had been no photographs taken of Mr. Potter. In fact there was no evidence that Harry Potter existed before the day he was taken from the not-so-loving care of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. As far as the neighbors were concerned, the only occupants of Number Four were Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, and their son Dudley Dursley. Why would the defendants wish to keep the knowledge of Mr. Potter's presence hidden from their neighbors and from the authorities?"

"I'll tell you why. They were afraid; afraid that the world would discover their darkest and most vile secret. You see, Vernon and Petunia Dursley hated Mr. Potter. They kept him locked out of sight, denied him proper food, clothing, and housing, and beat him over the slightest provocation (real or imagined). Mr. Dursley had a bad day at work? He blamed it on the young toddler and administered vicious corporeal punishment. Mrs. Dursley's homemade brownies burned? Mr. Potter was blamed and locked in his cupboard for a week or two with little to no food. Young Dudley Dursley was not doing well in school? Mr. Potter must have bewitched his teachers and therefore must be punished!"

"Tell me; honored members of the jury, what kind of people blame the ills of the world on a four year old boy? I'll tell you what kind," Klouse intoned loudly and firmly as he flung his arm out and pointed at the Dursleys where they sat fuming. "Right there, seated before you are two such monsters. I am here to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that both adult Dursleys are guilty of unspeakable crimes against Harry James Potter."

The courtroom exploded in cries of outrage and it took the judge several minute to regain order before presenting an opportunity for the defense to give their opening argument, which unfortunately wasn't anywhere near as passionate or as eloquent as the prosecutions.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley plead not guilty," the harassed and petulant county defense lawyer assigned to the Dursleys announced tonelessly, as he'd been instructed by Vernon Dursley during their first, and only, meeting prior to going to trial.

The judge gave the defense lawyer a sharp look that the lawyer responded to with gesture implying his hands had been tied. Raising an eyebrow, the judge moved the trial forward and ordered the Prosecution to call the first witness.

The rest of the trial proceeded in much the same vein. A string of solid testimonies provided by witnesses called by Klouse, these included the recounts of Leticia Jasper, Francine Hughes, Trevor Matheson, Amelia Bones, Sergeant Bud Timmons, Jake Weber, and each one of the numerous doctors and specialists that operated on little Harry (after having their memories temporarily restored). The defense put up a brave try at poking holes through Klouse's case but was left floundering with each failure.

The worst mistake of the day happened when Vernon took the stand though, at his own request (or rather upon demanding to be placed upon the stands), and completely shot down his own not-guilty plea by blaming everything on one little boy. When all was said and done, the trial would go down in history as one of the shortest and most brutal cases of child abuse and neglect ever to be tried. The jury had taken less than twenty minutes to unanimously convict both Dursleys. Judge Taylor sentenced them to four back to back life terms (fifty years each) in prison each; one term for each year Harry lived in their care. Vernon had to be dragged out of the court room by three officers as he raged that it was all the freak's fault.

Poor Dudley was turned over to the custody of his Aunt Marge who in turn gave custody of him over to social services and he ended up back at the orphanage before the weekend was over. The existence of a Swedish bank account held by the Dursleys was found to contain close to three million pounds, money it turned out that was stolen by the Dursleys from Lily's muggle bank account that had been set up in Harry's name (a windfall she'd set aside should they end up fleeing the Wizarding world in order to hide from Voldemort's forces plus the interest it had generated for the past three years). How the Dursleys found out about the money and gained access to the account was unclear (Trevor and Klouse suspected Dumbledore's involvement). The Dursleys remaining assets were liquidated and in combination with the return of the stolen funds were awarded to Harry for partial compensation; minus various legal fees and fines. Marge Dursley tried to appeal the awarding of punitive damages, claiming the need due to having her nephew in her care but was denied emphatically when it was learned she'd given up custody of said nephew almost immediately after leaving the courtroom.

That evening, as scheduled, Amelia presided over a press conference where Trevor and Klouse answered numerous questions about the truth behind the rumors of Harry Potter's abuse at the hands of his relatives. Towards the end of the Q and A session, the crowd witnessed one Albus Dumbledore being forcefully ejected from the doors of Gringotts by a troupe of hostile goblins that remained on the steps leading into the bank.

At the same time as Dumbledore's rather boney behind made contact with the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, Harry was being given his first ever present (not counting his secret treasures left behind by Kreacher) in the form of a set of cast iron figurines by Leticia.

"These… these are for me?" Harry asked in wonder as he sat watching the box with an unreadable expression.

Jake had just helped angle the back of the gurney so young Harry could semi-sit up for the first time in months when Leticia placed the unopened box of models into the boy's lap.

"I bought them just for you," Leticia agreed.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Leticia countered. "Every little boy deserves to have toys."

"Not freaks," Harry whispered, still unable to comprehend he was no less special than any other boy.

"I don't see any freaks in here," Leticia loudly insisted. "Do you Healer Weber?"

"Not a one."

"If you'd like, I can open them box so you can play with them," Leticia offered when Harry offered no further arguments against accepting the toys.

"I can… I can play with them?"

"They are yours."

Once out of the box and in his lap, Harry just quietly ran his fingers over every surface of the two inch high figurines. His hands trembling as he delicately traced the painted teeth of the dragon, making no sounds as he turned the piece this way and that committing each detail to memory; as if he expected them to be taken away any moment.

When Jake announced it was time for him to lay back down, Lettie asked one of the goblins for a tall table for the toys to sit on where Harry could see them and touch them any time he wanted. He fell asleep not long after facing the row of metal models, one hand firmly wrapped around the dragon, which he'd not wanted to let go of. Leticia let him keep it, suspecting it would break his heart if she insisted he leave it with the others.

Trevor was all smiles when he entered with Klouse later that night. The press release had gone fairly smoothly, though Skeeter had been her usually caustic self, with the added benefit of providing an audience of hundreds for Dumbledore's forceful removal from Gringotts' property. He grew serious when he found Leticia quietly sobbing next to Harry's bed.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"How can people be so cruel?" Lettie sobbed in frustration. "He argued with me. He didn't want to be given a gift. He didn't think he deserved to have toys. What else have they done to him? What else have they denied him? He still won't even acknowledge his name!"

Not knowing what else to do, Trevor simply enfolded the distraught young woman in his arms and held her. She sobbed and ranted in turns for close to an hour as he gently rocked her, letting her release the stress of the last week as she grieved for young Harry and the life he'd endured on top of the shock of being thrust so abruptly into the magical world. When she finally calmed down, he led her to one of the blanket covered benches in the room and helped her sit down.

She clung to him when he tried to stand up, so he joined her on the bench and rubbed her back while murmuring softly. "It's over now, that part of his life will soon fade to nothing more than bad memories. You saved him, Leticia; you helped bring him away from those vile people. They'll never harm him again."

"You're wrong," Leticia whispered tragically, "they are hurting him even now. The poison they fed him is still there, inside him and it will never completely go away."

"That is only partially true," Trevor countered gently, "Given time, he will learn that they lied to him and hopefully will be stronger for having survived this period of his life. It is up to us now, to show him how wrong they were. We have to be strong for him; to un-teach the lessons they forced onto him. He will be fine though, I know he will. I have faith in him."

Eventually, Leticia cried herself to sleep and Trevor gently laid her down and placed a blanket over her before taking up a vigil at Harry's side. He'd not had a chance to speak with the boy much, given everything that had happened during the week. As he sat there he pondered what Harry's reaction to the changes in his life would be. He was shaken out of his contemplations by a tiny little voice.

"You came back?"

"Of course," Trevor replied as he leaned closer to Harry and watched the emotions play across his young face. "I didn't want to leave you but sometimes things happen that are out of our control."

"Oh. Who…"

Trevor tilted his head as he studied the warring emotions on Harry's face. Years of questioning a wide variety of witnesses had given him a good understanding of body and facial language as well as how to read emotions on the faces of those who couldn't hide them, especially young children. Right now, he could tell Harry was curious and terrified as well as more than a little confused. Trevor couldn't blame him, what with everything that had happened in such a short time; especially in Harry's eyes because he'd spent so little time conscious since he'd been pulled from his cupboard.

Smiling gently Trevor brushed a hand over Harry's growing hair and encouraged, "You can ask me any question you wish to, Harry. You don't have to be afraid of me getting angry because you are curious."

Harry widened his eyes dramatically, more than a little caught off guard by being given permission to ask his questions. (He was still waiting to be punished for the earlier questions he hadn't been able to stop himself from voicing, after all.) If he'd been a few years older, he might have believed the permission to be a trap; but he was still too young to have developed the cynical side like that of his future's self. But then, his future self had spent close to seventeen years under the tyrannical thumb of his twisted relatives (though his older self had also not physically suffered as much as the current Harry). Still, close to four years of being told questions were not allowed are not that easy to forget, at least two of those years with added physical discomfort and pain for reinforcement just clouded the matter in his mind further.

"How about I see if I can guess what questions you'd like to ask and you nod yes or no?" Trevor asked carefully when Harry still hadn't said anything. "Would that be easier for you?" A stilted nod from Harry and Trevor smiled encouragingly. "Good. Let's start with a small question of mine first; are you in any pain?"

When Harry just bit his lip and averted his eyes, Trevor bit back a sigh over the child's sudden reluctance to admit he was hurting and fetched the potion Jake had left for the child's pain and offered said child the straw. He expected it to take a few minutes to coax Harry into taking the potion but that wasn't the case (Harry long use to complying to orders with immediate obedience). A few sips later and Harry was snuggling back into his pillow with a dragon in one fist and the wizard in the other.

"Ready? (Harry shrugged his left shoulder as he watched Trevor warily) I suppose I should start then. Would you like to know who I am? (a reluctant nod) Fair enough. My name is Trevor Matheson. I am a lawyer. Do you know what a lawyer is?" A reluctant single shake of the head had Trevor explaining further.

As Trevor asked and answered questions for young Harry, the small boy slowly began to relax. He practically drank up the answers, his attention avidly fixed upon Trevor without waver. It unnerved Trevor on some levels, for most children allowed their attention to roam after relatively short spans. After nearly an hour, Harry dared to ask a single question of his own.

"Are you a magic man too?"

Trevor smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story, so before we start why don't you take another sip of your potion here while I get us a little something to eat?"

Trevor watched Harry sip the potion before he walked over to the door and asked one of the goblin guards if he could get a bowl of thin soup and a few sandwiches. The guard grunted an affirmative and told him he'd have it ready shortly. Trevor thanked him before returning to Harry's side.

"Now, where were we," Trevor hedged a bit, trying to settle the discomfort he felt speaking about his life as a squib. "My reasons for not being a wizard, what you called a magic man, are different than others. You see, I was born with magic and the ability to use magic. Both of my parents and all four of my older sisters were magical people as well. My mother and sisters being what we call witches instead of wizards. Anyway, when I was born I could use magic just like the rest of my family."

Halfway through his explanation, they were interrupted by a female goblin carrying a tray of food. Harry seemed nervous and fascinated by the creature as she placed the tray over Harry's lap while Trevor rose to his feet and lifted Harry's bed so he could sit up and eat. He hid a smile when Harry made faces over the bowl of soup; such a normal reaction was quite refreshing to see. "You have to ask Healer Weber when you can eat something a bit heavier than soup. For now though, I'm afraid light liquids with little flavor are the order of the day."

Harry simply nodded and silently began trying to feed himself but when he found his arms didn't quite want to work properly he began crying and fighting harder; spilling the soup all over his hospital gown. Trevor gently took the spoon from his hand and shushed him calmly, keeping his voice low and soft. "Here, don't worry about the mess and not being able to feed yourself; your body and muscles are still recovering. Let me help you."

He could see the boy was ashamed and embarrassed but Trevor simply began feeding him one spoonful at a time until Harry indicated that he was full. He'd eaten less than half of the remaining soup. Harry looked worried that he'd be in trouble but Trevor simply praised him for eating as much as he did and moved the tray out of the way. Trevor then called over his shoulder and asked Klouse of he could give him a hand.

Harry shrank away from the new face, his insecurities quickly coming forward. Klouse just smiled reassuringly at him while Trevor explained the need to clean up the spilled soup. Klouse grinned widely and winked at Harry before pulling out his wand and sucking the spilled soup up into the tip with a whispered spell. Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise and Klouse saluted him comically before wandering back to where he'd been preparing case notes for the wizarding trials that were scheduled to begin on Monday.

When Harry settled back against his pillow, Trevor picked up where he left off in his story in between bites of his sandwiches. "As I grew older, I didn't perform accidental magic like most children though, meaning I didn't make weird things happen when I was angry, hurt, or overly excited. So my parents took me to the hospital to have my magic tested to see if there was anything wrong with it. It turned out my magic was… broken… and that it couldn't be fixed. I was then labeled a squib. A squib is someone, born to a witch and wizard, who is unable to do magic themselves."

"No magic makes you sad?"

"Not exactly, I didn't mind not having magic. I had, or thought I had the love of my family. They were sad though and angry too. When I was older, they were ashamed of me so they sent me away. I was mad at them for a long time but I have my own life now."

"They called you Freak?"

"Some people did," Trevor admitted quietly as he leaned forward and met Harry's green gaze with his. "But they were wrong. I was just a boy and now I am just a man. I eat, breathe, and walk just like every one else. Just like you are a boy right now and will one day be a man."

"Boys have names. Freaks don't."

Trevor contemplated Harry's wistful expression as he leaned back in the chair. He weighed his words carefully, considering how each word or phrase might affect the small boy, before leaning forward and stating, "I met your father once, when he was just a young boy, not too much older than you are now. He looked much like you, with messy black hair, and curious hazel eyes. When he graduated from school, I heard rumors that he'd married a charming young woman with fiery red hair and intelligent green eyes, eyes that must have looked remarkably like yours. They were, so I was told, both wonderful people. I know for a fact that they gave you a name when you were born."

"Harry James," Harry breathed with wide eyes as he stared into Trevor's eyes, his expression now hungry and desperate as a faint memory rose up from the depths of his mind. "Mummy called me her little man."

"She loved you very much," Trevor added thickly. "I wish I had known more than just her name. I only met James because he was my wife's favorite cousin. So, in a way, you and I are family, because my wife was your father's second cousin."

Harry's expression back-peddled, quickly filling with fear and Trevor mentally cursed.

"Not all families hurt each other, Harry; most families love each other very, very much. We, you and I, were dealt a bad hand but that doesn't mean we can't find happiness in our own way. The Dursleys, your aunt, uncle, and cousin, can't hurt you anymore. They have been locked away for hurting you the way they did."

"I broke the rules, I was bad," Harry cried as he fractured a little more.

"No, their rules were bad. They made bad choices. You are a little boy that they treated wrongly. Little boys need love; they need toys, clothes, and plenty to eat. Little boys need to run and play in the sunshine with their friends and family. Little boys need to have their questions answered and most of all; little boys need hugs and kisses when they are hurting." As he spoke this last, Trevor leaned forward off his chair and enveloped Harry in a gentle hug and placed a kiss upon his forehead.

Harry stiffened at the first contact but when Trevor didn't do anything but hold him loosely he slowly melted into the comforting warmth of the arms wrapped around him. When Trevor continued to just hold him, he snuggled deeper into the embrace and slowly started to cry, harsh wracking sobs as his soul poured out all the hurting it was feeling inside. His heart soaking up the feelings of being wanted and comforted that it had longed for over close to four long, hard years while at the same time his head kept telling him that none of this could be real.

In the background Leticia wiped tears from her eyes and curled back on the bench with her eyes lingering on the tender scene while her heart ached for one lost little boy.

June 22, 1985 6:54 AM

When Jake Weber entered the room to check on Harry's progress, he was surprised to find Trevor lying in bed beside the small boy, the two of them listening to Leticia read descriptions of various reptiles that muggles labeled as dragons. Trevor had one arm wrapped around Harry and the two of them were playing cat and mouse with the tiny models that Leticia had given the boy the day before. Harry was giggling each time Trevor made the wizard run away from the dragon that Harry was flying through the air with wobbly swipes of his arm.

Klouse stepped up beside Jake as he watched and shook his head. "They've been playing like that since three o-clock this bloody morning," the exhausted lawyer grumbled. "If it wasn't such a relief to see the lad smile I'd stun them both just so I could get some sleep. You wouldn't happen to have any Pepper Up on hand would you?"

"Not with me, no, but I can have some brought over later. Do you know what triggered Harry's abrupt change in behavior?"

"Yes, Trevor spent a long time talking with him last night. They had a good heart to heart and after a bit the boy broke down and had a good long cry. After that he slept in Trevor's arm for a few hours before waking up about two-thirty screaming. Trevor calmed him down, gave him some of the pain potion, and the two of them have been goofing around ever since. Ms. Hall joined them about an hour ago when they showed no signs of slowing down or stopping."

Jake chuckled and headed over to the bed when he saw Leticia take a break from the book. Both Trevor and Harry looked up as he approached and Jake was sad to see that the boy's happy face instantly crumple with dismay. Pretending not to notice the change, he set his healer's bag down on the edge of the bed and began waving his wand over Trevor, pretending to check him over as he jokingly exclaimed, "My goodness, Harry, you've grown over night! You are looking good, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to stop the gray hairs and premature balding."

"Hey!" Trevor groused, "I am not going bald!"

Harry ducked his head and giggled once, his nose scrunching up adorably as he fought to not laugh. On the other side of the bed Leticia's laugh chimed as she mischievously pointed out that there seemed to be a considerable amount of his hair covering the pillow. This elicited a few more giggles from the child while Trevor pretended to pout.

"Now that the drama is over, how about I give you a proper check up, Harry?"

Harry nodded reluctantly as Trevor slipped down off the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Leticia will keep an eye on the magic man for you," he whispered conspiratorially. "She'll make sure he doesn't vanish your hair a second time."

This made Harry's eyes go wide as he reached up and felt his shorter than normal hair. He made a disbelieving whimper as he ran his fingers over his head until he felt the long incision that had been cut into the back of his skull.

"Don't worry, Harry, I promise not to vanish your hair. I didn't vanish it the first time either. The doctors shaved your hair off because they needed to operate on the back of your head. Here, lean to the side a bit and I will put some cream on it that will help it heal. It will stop any pain you feel from the incision and help prevent the skin from scarring. Sorry, it's a bit cold. There you go, give it a moment to dry before you roll over onto your back. I'm going to use magic to scan your entire body now, making sure everything is healing as it should, try not to squirm when you feel it tickle. Good job. I'm impressed; your magic is finally helping to heal the remaining trauma from your injuries and the operations you underwent."

"My magic? I'm… I'm a magic man too?"

"Yes, Harry, you are," Trevor answered warmly. "You are a young wizard. A very special young wizard."

"Are… do… is… my…?"

"No, your aunt, uncle, and cousin are not magical," Trevor explained when he guessed what Harry was trying to ask. "I think that your aunt was jealous of you and her sister, your mother, because you both had magic and she did not. I think that's why she hurt you the way she did and your uncle was just a bully; both of them were wrong to treat you the way they did."

"Oh," Harry said as he scrunched his little nose up and thought deeply. "They called me a freak because I could do magic and they couldn't. Like your family called you a freak because you couldn't do magic like they could? Because we were different?"

"Yes, Harry," Trevor agreed. "That doesn't mean they were right. Different is just that; different. Everyone is different, whether it's their eye and hair color, how tall or short they are, or whether they can perform magic or not. Different is what makes us special."

Harry frowned as he thought about that carefully for a few minutes before pushing the uncomfortable thought out of his mind because it conflicted with everything he'd been taught. When he noticed Trevor watching him, he half shrugged his shoulder as he curled up against his pillow and watched the older man. After a moment of silence, Trevor spoke up once more.

"I'll be back in a bit, sport; I have a few things I need to take care of before I can hunt us up a little something for breakfast. Why don't you ask Healer Weber if you can have some eggs and toast instead of soup for breakfast."

"No toast," Harry and Jake said at the same time, both of them looking towards either other in surprise.

"Okay, I can guess why Jake doesn't want you to have toast; it might be too dry for your still tender throat. But why don't you want to have toast?" Trevor inquired. When Harry didn't answer right away, he prompted the child again with a soft, "Harry?"

"I don't like toast," Harry whispered, barely audible as tears leaked down his face. "It's all… that was… it was the only thing she'd let me eat… all scratchy and dry…"

Trevor had his arms around Harry before he finished, gently rocking him and assuring him that it was all right, that it would be alright and that he would never be forced to eat dry toast again. Once Harry was calmer, Trevor let him go and asked him how he liked his eggs (scrambled) and if he wanted anything special to drink (juice) and if there was anything else he needed (no).

A short while later he returned with a tray holding huge bowl piled high with scrambled eggs, a plate of sausages, a tall pitcher of apple juice, a bowl of oatmeal (for Leticia) and several plates, glasses, and forks. He set the tray down at the end of Harry's bed then passed Leticia her bowl before dishing Harry up a small plate of eggs. He gave the plate and one of the forks to Harry and watched as the boy once more fumbled with the utensil.

"I was afraid that might be the case," Jake murmured from where he had been standing and observing Harry. "Harry, can you put the fork down for a second and hold both of your arms out to the side for me please?" Harry reluctantly followed directions, his little arms swaying and wobbling out of his control as he tried to do as asked. "You can put them down now, thank you."

"Am I broken?" Harry begged to know as he sniffled a bit, both his hands now firmly buried in his lap, his arms trembling from the effort of trying to hold them up.

"No, not broken, just not fully healed yet. You see, when the back of your head got hurt, your skull was cracked. Because your aunt and uncle didn't take you to see a doctor to have it healed, it began to swell and the blood, from broken blood vessels, began to pool around your brain at the back of your head. This put pressure on parts of your brain. One part that was affected is the part that helps your brain control your coordination; what helps you move your muscles so you can walk in a straight line or lift a fork to eat. So, because your brain will take time to heal from the constant pressure of the blood that had pooled and pushed against it for a long time, it will take time for you to have complete control over your muscles. Especially the muscles in your arms and legs."

"In the mean time," Trevor added gently, "we can help you. It might be a bit embarrassing to be hand fed like an infant but in time you'll be able to do it by yourself again."

"There are exercises I can teach you that will help strengthen your muscles while your brain is healing as well," Jake said as he pulled out a couple more flasks of Harry's pain potion as well as a thick reddish orange potion. "After you finish your breakfast I want you to drink one ounce of this potion," he lifted the reddish orange one a bit to make sure Harry knew which one, "and another ounce after you eat supper tonight. It will help your bones get stronger. I'll be by tomorrow morning to check on you and make sure the potion is working properly."

As the healer left; Trevor lifted Harry's fork, stabbed a medium sized piece of egg, and lifted it up to Harry's mouth. Harry glared at the egg for a full minute before his tummy growled and he grudgingly accepted the bite. Trevor smothered his grin and simply took a bite of sausage while preparing the next bite for Harry.

Leticia took over halfway through Harry's breakfast, so that Trevor could do more than just steal the occasional bite of his own, and offered Harry bites in between showing him some of the pictures in the reptile book. This helped take his mind off the embarrassment of being fed like a baby. When he couldn't eat any more, he took his dose of Bone Knit potion, followed by a sip of his pain killer before he curled up to listen as Leticia continued reading out facts about the different lizards and serpents with dragon like traits. While they were occupied, Trevor and Klouse checked over the case notes for Monday's session of the Wizengamot. They'd reached the list of evidence when Trevor realized there was one huge glaring omission.

"If we're going to nail Dumbledore's boney arse to the wall, we're going to need Harry's memories."

"I could pull a random few without him knowing but if we want his entire life with the Dursleys or specific incidents we're going to need his cooperation. You know that, Trev."

"What about doing a complete siphon while he sleeps? I know it can be done with coma patients when the need arises."

"True, but those same coma patients are typically adults, adults, need I remind you, that are never expected to recover and usually removes their entire lifetime of memories."

"That might not be such a bad thing for Harry," Trevor countered with more than a hint of sadness. "He's had a shitty life, Klouse, worse than being set out on the street before age eleven. I gave up feeling sorry for myself a long time ago but after seeing just a few tiny glimpses of what he's been through make me ashamed for the self pity I experienced growing up and for the depression I wallowed in after Grizela's murder. Do you think Jake would know any alternatives for pulling the memories?"

"We could ask him."

"Let's go find him then. We don't have much time left if we're going to have something by Monday."

After letting Leticia and Harry know that they would be back later, Klouse and Trevor headed out to find Jake. It didn't take long, for the healer had been on his way back with a restorative draught for Klouse. The three of discussed different processes for accessing the memories with as little trauma as possible for young Harry but couldn't come up with a viable solution. Determined to find a way, they took their problem to the experts; the Obliviators employed by the Ministry of Magic. The Obliviators directed then to the Department of Mysteries where they were met by the mysterious Croaker and explained the problem they were facing once more, carefully leaving out any names.

"Let me get this straight," Croaker rasped as he leveled an emotionless gaze on Trevor. "You wish to take memories from an abused child without causing him harm or making him relive said memories so that you can use those memories to litigate against one or more parties so that justice can be served. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Answer me one thing truly and I may be able to help you. Is this boy you speak of, Harry Potter?" Trevor stiffened and would have walked away if not for the surprisingly strong grip of the Unspeakable as he grabbed him. "I ask, because there are rumors that the Dark Lord still lives. And the only person in this entire world with the knowledge to prove or disprove those rumors, whether he knows it or not, is one little boy named Harry James Potter. There is much more at stake than one little boy's happiness, Trevor Lynn Wenlock, and you are fully aware of just how bad things could turn out, aren't you?"

Trevor flinched as if struck, his hand automatically searching out the envelope containing a letter that contained the impossible.

"How…?"

"It is my job, that's how," Croaker airily supplied as he turned and led the three now highly confused men deeper into the Department of Mysteries. "I will gather my equipment and then you will take me to the boy."

"And if we choose not to trust you?"

"Then you go about your business and possibly cause more harm that good by bungling along in matters you only half understand."

"And we have your word that no mention of your visit with the boy will pass your lips?"

"I am an Unspeakable. I speak to no one."

Knowing they weren't going to get more than that, they silently helped the older man pack up a series of rune scribed vials, a large stone basin, several bags of ground quartz powder, two long pieces of rubber tubing, and several jars and pouches of dried herbs. All of the things gathered were carefully placed into a small black satchel that quickly disappeared into Croaker's cloak. The last thing Croaker grabbed before indicating he was ready to leave, was a large diamond cut into the shape of a many faceted crystal ball that glittered with iridescent swirls of red and blue.

The group then traveled by Floo to Diagon Alley where they quickly made their way to the bank. At the entrance to the vaults, the goblins subjected the group to a thorough search (looking for hidden bugs or tracking charms) before leading them down one level. At this point, all four men were led into the depths by a curious Backbiter. After several minutes they finally reached the room where Leticia was currently straightening up the blankets and sheets on the various sleeping benches around the room while Harry slept.

"He still looks like hell," Croaker commented after taking one look at the boy.

"You would too if you'd been virtually tortured for four years of your life," Trevor remarked dryly as he approached Harry's bed and gently ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "We nearly lost him."

"That would have been the worst thing to have happened," Croaker snapped as he pulled out his bag and began setting up the various items on the table that held Harry's figurines. He reached for the metal figures and made as if to move them out of the way when a tiny voice, that wavered fearfully, begged him not to take his only toys away from him. Croaker looked down into the vibrant green eyes of Harry Potter and slowly dropped his hand away from the toys. "I wasn't going to take them from you; I just wanted to move them so I didn't accidentally break them."

Harry didn't say anything in response; he simply reached out with shaky and trembling arms to carefully lift each one down into the bed beside him all the while watching the man standing at his bedside.

"Talkative little fellow, isn't he?" Croaker sarcastically commented as he continued to set up several bottles on the table and connected them with short lengths of tubing that had been cut off from the two longer pieces to the large stone bowl that he placed on the bed between Harry's legs. Next he pulled out a bag of ground quartz crystals and set it beside the bottles. While he worked, Harry watched his every move, his expressive green eyes distrustful of this new stranger.

Trevor shook himself out of his stupor and approached Harry from the other side of the bed, taking the little boy's hand in his while whispering words of comfort. Leticia merely watched from where she stood, not certain if she'd be in the way if she moved closer.

Croaker ignored them all as he mixed various amounts of the dried herbs he'd brought in a glass with some water he conjured with his wand. As he stirred it, the mixture turned a rather putrid greenish brown in color. The intimidating Unspeakable than met Harry's gaze once more and stated, "I'm going to put you in a magical sleep, you will still be able to hear everything going on around you but you won't feel or see anything. I'm then going to remove your gown and paint some funny symbols on your chest with this gross looking potion. They will feel hot for a few minutes, before you feel like you are floating. At that point you may feel an uncomfortable tugging in your mind; that will be me going through your memories."

"I don't understand," Harry cried fretfully.

"Harry," Trevor called softly, "I asked Mr. Croaker here to help us. You see, wizards have a way of copying memories so that other people can see them. Usually, the person whose memories are being copied have to help. I didn't want you to have to go through something like that so soon but we need to see those memories so that the people responsible for you being with the Dursleys can be made to see they made a mistake. There are some people who wish you to be given back to your aunt and uncle. We are going to stop them. Alright? In order to do that, we need your memories so we can tell people why you can't be allowed to return to them. Mr. Croaker has a way of getting those memories without you seeing them or thinking about them while he is copying them. It may be uncomfortable but I promise you it won't hurt. I also promise I will be right here holding your hand the entire time, okay?"

"Okay," sniffled Harry as he moved closer to Trevor, seeking the comforting warmth of the older man.

Croaker nodded once and tapped his wand to Harry's forehead. A single spark of blue energy jumped from the tip of his wand and landed between the boy's eyes where it quickly sank out of sight. By the time it had completely vanished, Harry was sleeping once more. Trevor helped move the boy into position and pulled down the gown while Croaker fished out a paint brush from his robes.

While the Unspeakable painted the thick potion onto Harry's chest, Trevor held Harry's hand and spoke a constant stream of reassurances to the boy. When the runes on his chest were finished, Croaker turned and painted over the scar left by Voldemort's attack. Next he attached the last two remaining lengths of tubing to Harry's temples with a simple sticking charm before hooking them into the stone basin with another sticking charm.

On the bottles he had sitting table beside the bed; he painted more runes, making comments out loud for the benefit of his audience. "One bottle represents one month of young Mr. Potter's life, so there are sixty bottles for his nearly fives years since birth. Of the two remaining bottles, one will represent the night of October thirty-first Nineteen-eighty-one and the other, larger vial will hold a copy of each memory where Mr. Potter has suffered a life threatening injury; to make your job a little easier since it would be virtually impossible to view and sort five years worth of memories by Monday morning."

Preparations complete, Croaker activated the runes by sprinkling the quartz dust over top of the potion drawn runes. He then placed the oddly shaped crystal ball on Harry's chest and lifted Harry's hands to hold it in place. Trevor moved his own hand to Harry's shoulder, making sure to let Harry know that he was still there with him.

A blue glow of magic rose up out of the crystal ball and flowed up to surround Harry's skull where it sunk in beneath the skin. Shortly afterwards, a sluggish river of memories flowed down the tube connected to Harry's left temple into the stone basin where the memories were duplicated with the copies being siphoned up into the individual bottles on the table. Several minutes after the flow of memories began, a return river of memories filtered up through the tube attached to Harry's right temple back into his brain.

Klouse and Jake avidly watched the transfer and copying process with great interest; both of them thinking of the applications the strange ritual could be used for in their professions. Trevor only spared a few glances towards the strange device, his concern more on making certain Harry stayed calm and watching for any signs that the he was suffering any distress.

Over eight hours later, the entire process had been completed and the amplified memory siphon removed and returned to the confines of Croaker's little black bag. The Unspeakable was currently sitting beside the bed labeling the bottles of memories with parchment while Trevor sponged the remains of the potion runes from Harry's chest and forehead before covering the boy back up. Jake spent a few minutes checking Harry's vitals before bringing the boy out of his magical stupor into a more natural state of sleep. The long process of having his memories copied had drained the child's limited reservoirs of energy and active magic but otherwise left him unharmed.

"If there's anything else you need, feel free to come see me," Croaker announced as he slipped one tiny bottle holding a single memory into his bag and rose from his chair. "You know where to find me."

"Did you leave a copy of that memory for us to sort as well?" Trevor inquired as he leaned back and stretched his cramped back. "I, personally, would like to know what he experienced that night. If only so I may help him through any lingering nightmare's he might experience due to his memories being disturbed."

Croaker contemplated the squib for a minute before nodding and pulling the memory back out of his bag and copying it into a new vial that he passed over to Trevor. "I would limit the number of people you allow to see that. I imagine it won't be an easy memory to view."

Trevor snorted as he tucked it away, "I'm more worried about what I will find in those other bottles of memories than seeing a first hand account of Lord Voldemort's demise."

"Yes, but there is a big difference between viewing dark magic and viewing dark memories," Croaker mystically pointed out before he simply melted from view.

"Cryptic sort of guy, isn't he?" Klouse asked dryly from where he'd moved to glance through the two dozen or so parchment labeled bottles. "Terribly organized though, he's even marked down the order the bottles were filled."

"Fascinating chap, if you ask me," Jake tossed out as he finished checking over Harry. "Makes me wonder what other amazing contraptions they have stored away that might make modern healing easier, better."

"I don't think they share easily," Trevor stated. "Who brought a pensieve?"

"Hey, Backbiter," Klouse hollered as he turned and saw the goblin still watching from the door. "Why wasn't a big fuss made over that guy's exit?"

"Unspeakables… are not… wholly human," Backbiter carefully explained before he too turned and left.

"That was odd, wonder what he meant."

"Ask the walls, the stones will sooner give a complete answer than a goblin."

"At least goblins don't answer in riddles all the time, not like the centaurs do at any rate."

"You have a point," Klouse agreed as he clapped Jake on the shoulder and handed a smaller stone basin over to Trevor. "Here's your pensieve. Shall we drop in on memory lane and see what the truth shall reveal?"

"I suppose we must," Trevor agreed, his face turning whiter as he uncapped the bottle of memories labeled Near Death Experiences and allowed Klouse to transfer a couple dozen memory strands into the basin; a minute later all three men reluctantly put in a finger and froze in place while their consciousness was dumped into Harry's worst memories of his life at the Dursleys.

Leticia watched them with dull brown eyes, her curiosity suppressed for once. She had no desire to know any more about the suffering of the boy she'd come to think of as her own. Instead, she dug into the box of items that the Aurors had picked up from her home and pulled out a large photo album of baby pictures that her mother had given her when she turned eighteen and moved to the college dorms. She thought Harry might enjoy sharing some of her most embarrassing moment with her. After a minute, she put the album back into the box as she considered how it might make him feel if he had to see pictures of someone else getting all he'd missed out in his short life. Sighing, she instead pulled out a couple of old story books to read to Harry when she finished with the dragon fact book. She then took her usual seat beside Harry's bed and drew her legs up as she watched the three frozen men locked in the nightmare that had been Harry's life before this past April.

It was going to be a long weekend.


AN: Poor Dumbledore… he's not having a very good day. The Dursley's have earned a small fraction of what is coming to them and Harry appears to be making progress. Next chapter will have the start of the wizarding trials, plenty of madness and mayhem, and some unexpected developments. ~ Jenn

10-23-11: Changed 'the People versus the Dursleys' to read 'the Crown versus the Dursleys' to drop the blatant Americanism.