Harry was shaken awake two weeks later, and as he groped for his glasses he spotted that it was six in the morning. "Neville? What's up, mate? Is it one of the kids?"

"No," Neville said grimly. "Seamus is here, and he wants to talk to us. It's important."

Harry hurried through his morning routine, leaving off the shaving for later that day. Parvati and Luna were trooping down the stairs at the same time, looking about as groggy as he felt. They normally got the kids up around eight in the morning, in an attempt to get close to the schedule to Hogwarts as possible. So as the kids were snoozing, the adults met with Seamus about the first possible RJL House rescue.

"We got this letter in the mail," Seamus said, passing copies around for the team to read it. "The little girl is about thirteen, she says."

Harry read it quickly, scanning for the major details. Thirteen year old witch living in Somerset, father died in the war, mother not abusive but details pointed toward extreme neglect. But...there was something….

"Seamus, mate, this doesn't feel right," Parvati said, vocalizing what everyone was feeling.

"I know," he said. "That's why I'm here. The Aurors felt the same way. When we started this little adventure, we were afraid we'd have kids writing in, mad at their parents and just wanting to come live with The Chosen One -"

"I thought we'd retired that nickname," Harry grumbled.

"But we figured those letters would go straight to Harry. After all, they know where to find him at the Ministry, and an appeal to Harry's heartstrings would make their case - by the logic of a ten-year-old," he added. "But this came directly to one of the Aurors on the taskforce."

"Not just that," Luna said. "What thirteen-year-old talks like this?"

"We're the only ones who know the whole group of Aurors, right?" Parvati asked.

"Officially, but I'm sure others in the Ministry know," Luna said. When everyone looked at her, she elaborated. "The Aurors have had to meet with Harry twice, and I'm sure there was some sort of selection process. People at the Ministry may not know details, but I'm sure that anyone who has been paying close attention to us has guessed a bit of what's going on."

"Trouble is," Neville said, "we don't know what they've guessed, if it's accurate, and who they've passed it on to."

"The team is ready to treat this as a real investigation," Seamus said. "But they want me, and one other person from the House on-site in case it's a false alarm."

"Why would they want us there?" Neville asked.

"Massive on-site shaming," Seamus said, sighing. "If it's a kid playing a joke, or someone looking to hurt one of our Aurors, there's going to be a sting, and we'll go live on the Wireless to make an example of them."

Harry sighed. "But if it is a kid who's in danger?"

"They won't see anyone from the house, or any of the other Aurors. Just me and Terri."

He nodded, stirring his tea absently. "Well...we can't very well ignore it. Who wants this one?"

"I'll go," Parvati volunteered. "But I think…." She trailed off, looking uncertain.

"What's up?" Harry asked, encouragingly.

"I think you might want to go just this once," Parvati said. "I know that you can't be a part of every investigation, but… I'm looking at this two ways."

"I think I'm thinking the same thing," Neville mumbled.

"First option is that this is real. Some thirteen year old kid is begging us to meet her in Diagon Alley whisk her to safety. Fine, but what happens if we get there and the kid panics? No one's going to calm the situation like you, Harry. Sure, they know us, but you are, and will always be, The Boy Who Lived. You there is going to do more for some scared kid ready to bolt than anything else."

"Fair, but what if it's some prank?" Harry asked.

"Then you need to be there for the fallout," Neville chimed in.

"Exactly," Parvati agreed.

"I think I'm seeing what you're seeing," Harry said, nodding. "Some asshole kid thinks he's making Merlin-knows-what point. Staring down The Chosen One and half a dozen Aurors should make them lose the attitude. Well, kid says this Thursday at one - shopping for Hogwarts supplies. Parvati, how do you feel about lunch in Diagon Alley on Thursday?"

She gave him a grim smile. "Sounds like a lovely date."

Harry wandered through Hogsmeade, smiling as the light summer breeze whirled the smell of grass, daisies, and freshly baked bread around him. He was pissed that he had to do this, but at least it was a nice day for it. He pushed open the door to The Griffin's Cafe - a little shop that had popped up in the wake of the War - and strolled over to one of the tables.

"Morning, Draco."

"Potter," Draco said. "Why did it have to be here?"

"Neutral ground," Harry said. "I wanted to talk about...a few weeks ago."

"When you stormed out of my house?" Draco asked. "Yes, I remember."

"I've...had time to think about everything you said. I still don't want your money...but maybe there's a way you can still help."

"I'm listening."

Harry gave him a look for a moment, but continued. "The money thing… it's going to look bad. We've already got people calling me a creep, we don't need headlines saying the Home is tied to Death Eater funds. But the kids do need things...and you're still a big name in the Ministry."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "What on earth do they need that my name would get them anything good?"

"Therapy," Harry said, smirking. "It's mandatory for all Hogwarts students, but most of these kids are pre-Hogwarts. I spoke to McGonagall, hoping that the school's counselor could help, but… they're stretched pretty thin. Do you know some names?"

Draco gave a mirthless snort of laughter. "You know I do. Regular evaluation by a team of five counselors was one of the terms of my release, as you very well know." He paused, sipping some of his gillywater. "I can help out. I've rented office space in a wizarding village near London - I'll talk to some people and arrange a time to meet there." He took a small notebook out of his briefcase and scribbled the address down. "I'll send you an owl with their names and the time."

"Right. I'll look for it."

"Potter?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

Harry shrugged. "It's not about you. Or me, for that matter. I don't need your thanks. Let's just help these kids."

"Agreed."