A/N: Thanks again to everyone reading and reviewing this story! :)

A sighting? Where!" Ron and Hermione demanded simultaneously, and Sirius himself was also waiting with bated breath. All three of them had been in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place de-Doxying the curtains when Kingsley and Arthur came bursting in to update them on the search. Sirius was still exhausted from his own nighttime shift of roaming the streets of London in dog-form searching for Harry's scent.

"Halebury market," Kingsley said. "A boy from Harry's year, Seamus Finnegan recognised him."

"Seamus?" Ron repeated. "But … he didn't turn him in, did he?"

"He told his mother, who has been a very vocal critic of Dumbledore the last few weeks," Kingsley said, turning around as Remus also came charging into the room, breathless with anticipation. "She tried to confront him, but he ran. She then alerted the Ministry. But there was another man after him. She presumed it was an Auror, but it wasn't. I believe it was a Death Eater."

Sirius went cold at the thought of this close encounter. He felt sick.

"What was he doing at the market?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently he was working behind a stall."

"Working?" Sirius repeated. Had Harry really built himself that much of a life in London? It would only make it more difficult to finally convince him to come back. He hoped this encounter with the Death Eater however might make him see sense.

"He was with a woman," Arthur said, as everyone hung on his every word. "According to the other market sellers he's been working there a few days. They said her name was Violet Fawcett."

"Fawcett?" Molly repeated, holding her Doxy spray close to her chest. "Is she a relation of the Fawcetts near us? A witch?"

"A distant relation yes, but a witch, no," said Kingsley. "She's a Muggle with a Squib mother, Miss Isadora Fawcett. Isadora is the sister of Arabella Figg."

Remus' jaw dropped in shock. "Figg? You can't mean the Squib that's an Order member?" he said incredulously. "The one who lives around the corner from Harry, who's been watching over him on Dumbledore's orders since he was a baby?"

Arthur and Kingsley nodded, and Sirius felt a surge of rage. "You mean this Figg woman's known where Harry is all along?" he fumed. "Who let her into the Order?"

"Arabella claims to have known nothing about it," Kingsley said. "Her sister runs a Bed and Breakfast in London, which is where Harry has been living. According to her, she sent a message to her sister to watch out for him, but the two aren't very close, and Isadora apparently didn't care to mention Harry's presence to her. When we spoke to Isadora she claimed that she had no idea who Harry was and got him a job with her daughter because he'd run out of money."

"Seriously, of all the hotels in London, Harry manages to run into the only one run by a Squib?" Ron asked, and Sirius agreed with him. The coincidence was ridiculous.

"It does seem unlikely, but that's what happened," Kingsley said, shrugging. "Dumbledore said something about magic drawing like to like together, but I didn't quite understand it. She's definitely lying though. I checked that B&B myself and she claimed to have no teenage boys living there. I was right there. I should have demanded to see the register, but she was threatening to kick me out and get the Muggle authorities. I can't get into situations like that without my bosses suspecting I'm working for someone other than them. She hid him, though Merlin knows why."

"Wait," Hermione said, frowning. "Are you saying Harry's not there now?"

Sirius' hope came plummeting down when he saw their expressions.

"We searched the place, but he wasn't there," Arthur said. "Dumbledore thinks he got spooked at the market and moved on." He deposited a rucksack on the ground before them. "He didn't have time to go back for his things. Everything's here. Including his Invisibility Cloak, and all his food. Though I doubt you can call it food, more like snacks. He hasn't been living well at all. That hotel room's a health hazard."

Sirius stared at the rucksack, his old despair returning in full force. So close again.

"Are you sure he's alright?" he asked, his stomach clenched. "Did the Death Eater catch him?" The thought of Harry potentially being in Voldemort's hands at this moment terrified him.

"Dumbledore doesn't believe so," Kingsley said. "According to some witnesses, the man caught up to him, but for some reason let go. Harry managed to slip away."

"Did he set fire to the Death Eater as well?"

"Dumbledore believes it's possible, but the Ministry deny any magic was involved. None showed up on the Trace."

"Well of course they would deny it," Remus said, frowning. "They don't want to believe that there's anyone after Harry other than themselves."

"So where is he now?" Sirius asked, looking back up. "All of his supplies were at that hotel, right? So what does he have to live on now, the clothes on his back? He's in an even worse situation than before."

Seeing the gloomy expressions on the faces before him only made him feel worse. The anxiety rose inside him as he thought of Harry cornered and potentially desperate.

"At least he still has his wand," Arthur said, somewhat feebly, but Sirius was not comforted.

"Dumbledore questioned the daughter this afternoon," Kingsley said. "She came back to the B&B when we were there looking for him. She seemed quite surprised at our presence and said she had no idea where Harry was, that he'd just run off without warning. She seemed to have no knowledge of the magical world and kept telling us that the police had no right to barge their way into her home. Told us to come back with a search warrant or something." Kingsley rolled his eyes and scoffed. "No knowledge of the magical world, indeed. She had a tattoo of a Swedish Short-Fang with the words Expecto Patronum underneath it. She knows full well who Harry is."

"You think she's hiding him?"

"Maybe, but I don't know where," Arthur said. "She lives at the B&B but she might have him stowed away with one of her friends. Or maybe Harry is genuinely on his own."

"Well, get her to tell the truth!" Sirius demanded. "If she knows where she is she needs to tell us!"

"And what do you suggest we do?" Kingsley asked, eyebrow raised. "Veritaserum? Cruciatus Curse? We cannot force her to tell us. Technically, she's a Muggle, and protected by a dozen laws, as is her mother. We can't cast spells on Muggles without good reason."

"Isn't this good reason?" Sirius asked. "Can't Dumbledore use Legilimancy or something?"

He felt increasingly angry as he saw Arthur and Kingsley's expressions. Why were they giving up? This was their first solid lead! Harry only had three more days before the deadline set by the Ministry.

He turned back to Kingsley, a thought striking him. "Did you tell these Fawcett women about this deadline?"

"Do you think that will make a difference?" Kingsley asked.

"If they do know where Harry is," Sirius reasoned, "they'll let him know, and he might turn himself in. And if they don't, no harm done."

They exchanged glances. "It's worth a shot," Arthur said. "I'll let Dumbledore know."

Sirius nodded, turning back to the curtain behind him and violently spraying the curtain with the potion, aiming for each and every Doxy with a vehemence that expressed his suppressed emotion.

We're coming for you, Harry, he thought furiously. The thought of Harry alone on the streets of London, possibly starving was enough to make him more afraid than he ever thought he could have been.

Harry had never felt more stuffed in his life, save perhaps after some of Hogwarts more extravagant feasts. He was curled up on the sofa between Violet and Susie smothered in blankets and fluffy pillows watching some mid-afternoon Home and Away, bowls of popcorn, M&Ms and chocolate buttons perched on their laps, an empty pizza box discarded nearby. Maybe his stomach had shrunk after this last month of tiny meals, but this little feast of junk food was almost too much for him.

Susie yawned and stretched as the credits rolled. "Total rubbish," she said.

"Then why do you watch it, you dolt," Violet teased.

Susie shrugged. "I like Australian accents."

Violet chuckled, and she set down the bowl on her lap and began to get up to clear away some of the debris. Perhaps somewhat selfishly, Harry stayed where he was, too warm and comfortable to want to move much. Lamia was lying on his lap. After discovering she did not at all like M&Ms, popcorn, chocolate or pizza she had been in a rather bored mood, and nibbled the end of a cushion for a good hour until Susie had noticed and fetched her some scraps of meat from the kitchen. Harry watched her severely as she ate. He may not know a lot about snakes, but he knew they only ate rarely. Based on what Lamia had been eating recently she was due to burst any day now.

Susie watched Violet moving around, still wrapped up in a blanket up to her neck. "We should take in runaways more often," she said. "I like having you around the house during the day."

Violet rolled her eyes. "And you like the fact we're getting no money as well?"

Susie shrugged. "We never got much anyway." She nudged Harry. "Funny when she's being the responsible one, ain't it?"

Harry chuckled, making Violet send him a mock glare. She pinged a bit of popcorn at him, and then continued cleaning up. Harry snuggled back on the sofa. The last few days had been almost pleasant. True, he still had terrible nightmares, and a constant sense of hollowness during the day, but he no longer felt as lifeless as he had before. Violet and Susie had been nothing but good to him, both hanging around all day, letting him watch what he wanted, stuffing him with junk food, and mercifully, asking him no questions about anything.

Violet had come back that first night from her mother's home, telling Harry about her encounter with a man she guessed to be an Auror, Dumbledore and a man, who by her description could only be Mr Weasley. The guilt had almost overwhelmed him then, thinking of the grief he must be putting the Weasleys through, particularly Mrs Weasley who had always treated him as one of her own sons. But the knowledge of the Auror stopped him back from going back. Who could he trust these days?

Once Violet had cleared up a little, she came back to the sofa and they sat and watched yet more junk tv. Most people would probably be bored by now, Harry guessed, but he was happy enough. Tv back at the B&B had been monotonous and he found no pleasure in it, but here, watching the same programmes, only this time with company, it was almost enjoyable.

"I'd best get to bed," Susie eventually yawned hours later, after the end of The Bill. "Strange how lying about all day can make you so tired."

She stood up, and adjusted her floaty dress and rumpled hair before heading back to her and Violet's bedroom. Susie was strange in that every day she got up, showered, perfectly styled her hair and makeup and dressed carefully yet never left the flat. Violet by contrast sat all day in her pyjamas, and Harry likewise remained in the borrowed t-shirt and jogging bottoms Violet had found for him at the back of her wardrobe. It was remarkable, Harry thought, just how well a twenty-five year old woman's clothes fit him compared to the clothes he'd gotten off his own cousin of the same age.

Violet also soon went to bed, and Harry curled up on the sofa with the blankets and fluffy pillows to go to sleep. Lamia as usual crawled up to the pillow beside his face and prepared to sleep.

"You're happy, aren't you, human?" she hissed. "Strange how humans can find so much satisfaction in doing nothing."

Harry frowned. "And what exactly do you do all day except sleep and eat?"

She bobbed her head. "I put up with you."

"Fair point," said Harry, smiling despite himself.

Soon the two of them drifted into sleep, but the contented feeling Harry had had as he had lain there was dispelled the moment he closed his eyes. One again, he found himself walking down a featureless black corridor, the door at the end frustratingly out of reach. Then the scene changed and he was once more in the graveyard. A flash of green, and Cedric was dead again. A flash of red and Harry was in agony, writhing against his bindings as the Cruciatus Curse ravaged his body. His parent's ghostly forms drifted before his eyes. Then the voice. That terrible voice. Bow to death, Harry.

A screaming met his ears, and he bolted awake, but the screaming did not stop, and then he realised it was not in his dream. Loud blood-curdling screaming and sobbing rang throughout the flat. He stumbled out of his tangled mess of blankets in the semi-darkness, reaching for the wand he hid underneath the sofa. Lamia had already slithered away, though he couldn't see where. A light had gone on in the bedroom and Harry ran towards it, wand in hand, expecting an attack, but when he got there, a very different scene met his eyes.

Susie was curled up on the floor in a foetal positon, great sobs and screams racking her whole body as she trembled violently. Violet was crouched beside her, her own face lined with tears, trying to hug her but constantly being pushed back by another scream. A puddle of vomit lay nearby. Violet crouched by her head and softly stroked her hair, murmuring to her.

"It's alright, love," she said, barely restraining her own tears. "It's not real, you're here with me. Everything will be alright."

Harry didn't know what to do. He stuffed his wand in his waistband and considered edging back to the living room, feeling this was a private scene he shouldn't be intruding upon, but Violet had already seen him. Her sad face looked up at him, but she managed a small smile regardless. She lifted Susie's head into her lap and continued stroking her hair. She was calmer now, and though still crying, was no longer screaming. She seemed entirely oblivious to everything going on around her.

"Don't worry," Violet said, smiling through her tears, "no Voldemort here. Just some Muggle enemies."

Hesitantly, Harry crouched down beside them. He wanted to help somehow, but was completely clueless. Violet reached out and clapped him briefly on the shoulder.

"Sorry you had to see this," she said, her voice soft to avoid disturbing the still distressed Susie. "She's been so good recently. I'd hoped she was past this."

Harry bit his lip, and Violet chuckled softly. "Look at you being all discrete," she said. "You can ask you know. We're not as private as you." She sighed, and looked down as Susie, who now lay completely still. "She was in a car crash about a year ago," she said, brushing back her hair. "Her two little brothers died, and she watched it happen. She was driving you see. Such a careful driver, but you can't always count on other idiots being the same."

She shifted her weight slightly, gently moving Susie's head again. "She didn't cope well," she said. "PTSD, the doctors said. I thought only soldiers got that, but apparently not. She's been as brave as one though. Losing all her family like that. She's been getting better. When I moved in a couple months ago she couldn't even get herself dressed in the morning. And now look at her! Always perfectly turned out. It was a way to cope you see. Reflecting the outside inside, if you get it. But you can't control what you dream about. That's when she gives in to it. But we'll get through it."

Violet looked back down at Susie, smiling with such love and affection Harry felt embarrassed to watch. Then her expression turned to one of disgust as she noticed one foot sitting in the pile of vomit. She looked back at Harry, still smiling. "Where's a Scourigify Charm when you need one, eh?" she joked, winking. "My mum always wanted to learn that one. Grandma Fawcett used it all the time. Don't think mum ever learned to clean the Muggle way! Explains the state of her B&B I suppose …"

Susie stirred, and she turned her body so she was looking up at Violet. Her eyes were wide and fear-filled. "Vi?" she cried, tears flowing once more.

"Shh, I'm here," Violet soothed, stroking her cheek. "Everything's fine."

"I couldn't save them, Vi," Susie's voice cracked. "I watched them die again. I couldn't save them."

"I know, I know," Violet said, drawing Susie into a warm hug, rubbing her back as Susie began to cry once again. Harry decided now was a good time to back out and leave them their privacy. He went back to the living room and sat on the sofa, his chest curiously tight. It was suddenly very hard to breathe. His heart was racing and he found himself suppressing his own tears.

Lamia slithered up to his knee and stared at him curiously. "Why are you so agitated?" she asked. "The crying-woman is the one who is damaged."

"Her eyes," Harry said, his breathing becoming more and more laboured as a tear fell. "The fear ..."

He buried his face in his hands, face screwed up with emotion. He felt ready to burst out of his skin. "She couldn't save them," he said, more to himself than Lamia. "She watches them die again and again."

Lamia poked her face up to his. "Like you cannot save the Diggory boy."

Harry felt more tears dropping. "That fear I saw in her face," he said, "it's the same fear I have every night. That same helplessness. That same pain …"

He forced himself to try and breathe deeply, feeling some sort of panic attack coming over him, knowing that this was the last thing Violet needed.

He wiped away his tears. "I'm being stupid," he said. "I should be dealing with this better. Those were her brothers. I barely knew Cedric."

"Emotion is never stupid when it is necessary," Lamia said. "And this is necessary. You need to feel the pain to move past it. You need to accept the fact that it's okay to need time."

"I thought I just needed to get on with it all, forget about the past. Isn't that what you said?"

"And I hold to it," Lamia said, curling up in his lap. "Let go of the questions, the what-ifs, but not the memory. Do not fear it. Embrace it. Pretending it never happened is useless. It did happen. And that is important. Remember that. Remember that the past cannot be changed. All you do is learn what you can from it, grieve, and move on."

"Move on," Harry repeated. "And how exactly do I do that?"

"The same way she did," Lamia said. "Take back control. Fix that messy hair of yours if that's what makes humans feel better. Be in charge of your own life and stop running from it. You need people, Harry. The crying-woman has the colourful-woman to help her."

"And who do I have to help me?" Harry snorted. "I'm not going back to them. They don't get it."

"And they never will unless you give them a chance. And in the meantime," Lamia said, shifting herself importantly, "you have me."