Harry stood there, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He ran to Sirius and unceremoniously plopped himself down on Sirius's stomach.

"Don't hit Charlie!"

Lupin frowned, but aimed his wand away from Harry nonetheless. "Harry, get away from him. He's dangerous."

"No!"

"Harry, he killed your parents." Lupin hissed. Dumbledore gave him a look, but he ignored it.

"No he didn't, that was Matt!" Harry answered stubbornly.

Unwilling to argue, Lupin tried to pick Harry up, but the boy struggled and grabbed a hold of Sirius's legs and refused to let go.

"Harry?" Dumbledore called softly. The struggle stopped instantly. Muggles were looking at them, and a few had gotten up to see what was going on. "Harry, you will have to come with us." He ordered gently.

"But he hit Charlie!" Harry protested. He was very much aware that the old man was the one he was supposed to go see, the one who would help him. Looking at Dumbledore apologetically, he got a better hold on Sirius and shook his head.

The barely conscious Sirius put a hand on Harry's back.

"Stupefy!" Lupin called out angrily. The muggles began to scream.

Harry shook Sirius's limp form and looked up at Lupin with fear and distrust. Recognizing defeat, he walked to Dumbledore and stood there, looking up at the old man like a child about to be scolded.

"The Aurors should arrive shortly, Remus. I am going to take Harry to the Minister, can I count on you to make the necessary memory modifications?"

Lupin nodded

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

Harry watched his feet swing; the chair was too tall.

Swing, swing, swing.

"I can't believe it! Amazing!" the man who had been introduced as Minister Fudge was saying for the eleventh time. "Impossible!"

He circled Harry's chair a few times, rubbed his chin, shook his head, and muttered, "Simply amazing!" a few more times before sitting down. "I don't believe it!" he finally muttered.

Harry watched his feet swing and wondered where Charlie was. He was probably mad because the man had hit him. And it had probably been his own fault, because Charlie would not have been there if he, Harry, had not run from Matt. And more importantly, if he had not shown them where he was standing.

The old man finally broke the silence that had been making Harry so uncomfortable. "I think Harry needs to rest before we interview him. He has been through enough, I think, and I must speak to you privately."

The other man nodded. "Harry, would you like to rest?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sleepy."

"Really, boy, I think it's-"

"I'm not sleepy." Harry repeated, effectively interrupting the man. He was not sure he liked him much. The old man took Fudge to the other side of the office and whispered something.

"… Defended Black…"

"Charlie? What is the meaning of it? Why not tell him…"

"… Keep your voice down, please, Cornelius."

"Yes, sorry… brainwashing… You-Know-Who… back… Azkaban!"

Swing, swing, swing.

They were talking about him, but he was not sure why. He had not done anything, had he? Harry looked at them carefully. The old man seemed to have said something the other man did not like, because his face started becoming a blotchy sort of red.

"We will question him now!"

Fudge broke away from the old man and sat down at his desk, Harry sitting in front of him.

"Do you know who you are?" he asked Harry.

Harry almost laughed. Of course he knew who he was, he was not stupid. Instead of pointing it out, however, he nodded.

"Okay, tell me your name."

"My name is Harry."

"Cornelius, I insist-"

"I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but this needs to be taken care of. We'll find out the whole story and then make arrangements for him to go back to his family."

The old man was prevented from answering as Harry jumped from his chair. "I get to see my parents?"

Fudge looked rather awkwardly at Dumbledore. "Well, you might want to explain the situation to him, Dumbledore. I'll go get the Aurors so they can come listen to this."

Fudge quickly left the room, and Harry was trying to think of a way to get the old man out of the room too. The old man had other ideas, however. He conjured up a chair out of thin air and sat down by Harry, moving the boy's chair so it would face his own. Then, with strength that no man as old as the one standing in front of Harry could have, he lifted Harry back onto his chair.

"This is a very complicated thing to explain, Harry, but I'll do my best. Do you know what you are?"

Harry looked at him for a second, confused. He was lots of things, how was he supposed to know if they were both talking about the same thing?

"Ah, let me explain, Harry. You, my boy, are a wizard. Did you know this?"

"What's a wizard?"

"A wizard… well, for now you will have to be satisfied with knowing that you have special abilities that may help you in times of trouble."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Like Charlie? He made motorcycles fly and he said when I'm older I'll be able to do it too. He let me borrow his stick- I mean, wand. But I set the toaster on fire."

The old man smiled at that explanation, but then his face was grave. "How long have you been living with Charlie?"

Harry shrugged. "I only stayed with him since I ran away the day before yesterday. He told me he was going to take me to someone who could help me find my parents, since I didn't have Matt anymore.

"I see. Who is Matt?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, almost defeated. "Matt's my godfather."

The old man's eyes widened very slightly. "Explain to me, Harry, everything that has happened. Don't leave anything out."

"Since when?"

"Everything you remember."

"All I remember is Matt. I grew up with Matt. He's my godfather, and he's been taking care of me since my parents died in a car accident."

The expression on the old man's face was unfathomable. "So how did you get to Charlie? Why did you not have Matt anymore? What did you run away from?"

Harry's feet stopped swinging. "Well, there was a man that came to our house. I didn't get a good look at him, but he yelled at Matt. I don't think Matt liked it, because he got his wand and pointed it at the man. But I don't know why. There was some green light and the man fainted. Matt said he was sick, and he called someone to come get him and take him to the hospital."

The old man nodded, but asked no questions, so Harry continued. "Then we moved, and another man came. This one was in Matt's room, and he was sick too, I think. He was on the floor, and I guess he was trying to scream because he didn't feel well. I thought Matt was trying to help him with his wand. I knew he was there, and Matt left the next day, so I went to take him some food.

"The man asked me to untie him, and I did, but I got in trouble with Matt. He kicked the man and did other things to him, and I just got scared and ran when he pointed the wand at me." Harry lowered his eyes, "I guess I was stupid. It doesn't seem like a good reason to run away now."

"On the contrary, Harry! Your instincts told you that it was not safe, and you did what we all do when we feel threatened. Our instincts are often right, and you did well by getting out of there. But how does Charlie fit into all this?"

"Well," continued Harry, "I went outside and ran to the park and I found Charlie there. He stopped Matt, because he was chasing me, you see. So I told him what happened and he walked over to Matt and saw something on Matt's hand- or arm, maybe- and then took me to his house. He said he was going to help me. I was supposed to meet you this morning."

"Did Charlie tell you why?"

Harry tried to piece everything together as he went. "He said you might be able to find my parents. The man who came to our house told me Matt killed my parents, but maybe I forgot to tell him that because he wanted us to try anyway." He paused for a second and then looked up almost hopefully. "So do you…? Know my parents?"

The old man nodded, and he looked very sad. "I knew your parents, Harry. But both of them have… passed away."

"You mean they died?"

The old man nodded. "I'm afraid so."

Harry lowered his eyes. "Oh. I thought so. But Charlie said maybe you'd get me new parents. Though it's okay if you don't, Charlie said he'll let me stay with him if you can't find anyone. And I don't think he'll be too mad at me that he would take it back."

Dumbledore looked at Harry curiously. "Why? Was Charlie often mad at you? Did he yell at you, like he thought things were your fault?"

"No! Charlie's not like that. He told me if I had no one else to go to, he would let me stay with him. And Charlie wouldn't lie."

"Well, no need to worry, Harry. You will not be going back to Charlie's."

Harry frowned. Why would he be worried? "It wasn't bad. We had hotcakes for breakfast."

The old man smiled slightly. "Nonetheless, I'm going to take you to your aunt."

A smile almost crept onto Harry's face. "Oh, I have one of those?"

"Er… yes."

"Robbie's aunt was really nice. She brought us food and spent all her time talking to Robbie's mom about Robbie's dad. Is mine nice?"

The old man looked a little funny, and he did not answer the question. Instead, he looked through his dress-like clothes and took out a small candy. "Lemon drop?"

Harry took it and put it in his pocket to save it for later. "Thank you. Did Charlie already go home, or can I still go say goodbye?"

"Charlie… went home. He had to go, otherwise I am certain he would have come to say goodbye to you."

"I think he would come have if your friend hadn't hit him."

"It's very complicated, Harry. I'll explain it to you someday."

"He told me," Harry said, "that I shouldn't tell you I had stayed with him because you didn't like him."

Dumbledore smiled pleasantly but did not respond. Instead, he said, "Tell me, Harry, what colour are your eyes?"

"Green," Harry answered automatically. "Err… wait, they're blue now. My hair used to be black, too. But it's yellow now."

"Really?"

Harry nodded, nervous that the old man might think he was lying.

"When did they change?"

"Before we moved to our new house. Matt said I was getting sicker and they would go back to their normal colour when I got better, if I took my medicines."

"You mean to say you are sick?"

Harry nodded. "Only a little, and if I forget to take my medicines one day then I can't see right. And if I stop taking it for a long time then warts will come out."

The old man frowned. He took out his wand and whispered something, conjuring up something metal from thin air. He put it on Harry's face and Harry's vision cleared up immediately. "Those are glasses," he said, "And you will be happy to know that you will not have to bother with any more medicines from now on."

Harry took the glasses off his face and put them back on, marvelling at the difference. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Harry. And I daresay you might be pleasantly surprised later, if you look at a mirror."

Harry shrugged.

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

Sirius woke up somewhere, but he was not sure where. It was dark and damp.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

And reality came crashing down on him. Where else would he be? He had been caught again. He had stupidly delivered to Dumbledore the one person he had been most anxious to find.

But he had checked, had he not? There had been no scar, and Sirius knew about the scar. He had seen the deep gash when he had asked Hagrid to let him take Harry; Sirius had known that it would always be there, as a reminder of what had happened that night.

There had been no scar. No scar.

They had changed his hair, his eyes. Those impossibly green eyes that had stared up at him during so many games of peek-a-boo… how could he have known? The black hair that he had inherited from his father?

All different.

But he should have known. Nothing should have stopped him from knowing it was Harry. He had failed them again. He had failed Lily and James once more.

They had changed his eyes. They had changed his hair. They had taken his scar.

They had taken his godson.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He was done.

Had he not done what he had set out to do? It had not come out exactly the way he had wanted it to, but he had done it, had he not? Harry was safe.

He had hoped… No, he could not think about it now.

No happy thoughts in Azkaban.

No happy thoughts at all.

. ~ . ~ .

. ~ . ~ .

"Mum! Daisy's not sharing!"

Petunia Dursley threw up her hands. "For the last time, Dudley, you have your own!"

"But I want hers!"

Taking a deep breath, Petunia poured out another cup of juice.

"Here you go, Dudders." She handed the fat little boy a new cup, and he took it, discarded his previous one, and stuck his tongue out at his sister. She picked up his discarded cup and finished the juice in it, then went back to her own. He shrugged, and tried to down his own cup.

"This not apple juice!" Dudley screamed.

"I'm sorry, but mommy hasn't had time to buy any more apple juice. Prune juice is all we have, but I'll go get you some more later, and we'll get you some orange juice too, okay?"

"I don't want prune!" little Dudley screamed again.

"That's all we have!" Petunia snapped.

Dudley snatched his sister's cup and tried to drink it, but it was empty. He threw the cups across the room and nearly hit the Television. Too tired to put up with him, she went back to the kitchen. It was wrong of her to take out her emotions on her children, if the neighbours knew…! She would be labelled a bad mother, and she certainly did not want that. But she had been so tense lately, since her husband was so close to losing his job. And then there had been that nasty business about the funeral for her nephew. It was ridiculous, to have had such a large ceremony for a boy! She did not know why she had gone, really, he had all those other people to mourn him, and she had no time for that nonsense.

Petunia felt slightly dizzy for a second, and she held on to the kitchen top for balance. The doorbell rang, and she ran to get it. The two kids were crowded around it, both battling to open it.

"Go play, you two," Petunia shooed them away and opened the door and froze at the sight that met her eyes.

As if it was not enough that an old man, one that Petunia knew to be one of them, was standing on her doorstep, next to him was a small boy that could have been a miniature replica of the Potter boy. The same one her sister had married. Her eyes widened, and she looked at the old man, the young boy, and then at the old man again.

"…Is he…?" Petunia whimpered. The old man, Dumbledore, looked like he was going to smile. He took her arm and, Petunia being too weak to protest, led her to the sofa. Dumbledore closed the door and motioned for the boy to sit down. The boy sat down on the sofa opposite of Petunia.

"Mrs. Dursley…"

Petunia nodded, unable to stop staring at the child, who was looking at her with visible curiosity.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts-"

"Yes, I know, I remember." Petunia interrupted. "What is the meaning of this? The reason for your visit?"

"Why, I was sure you knew why I am here."

"He's… I mean-" Petunia stuttered as the boy turned to look at her own children with something like excitement in his eyes.

"Yes, he is." Dumbledore replied.

"Where… I mean…. Harry-?" Petunia looked away, unable to make eye contact with the boy.

"He was found earlier today by a lucky coincidence. I received a letter by someone claiming they had a boy who had been kidnapped in their custody. I went to meet the person, and found Harry," he motioned to the boy, "disguised by a few spells and potions."

"Well… who? Were they rewarded? I mean, not that I think that they should- Well, I suppose it's a good thing you found him." Petunia finished weakly.

"The person who wrote the letter was Sirius Black."

"Oh!"

"He has been caught and sent to Azkaban, so you and your family need not worry. We thought he might come to you, but he has been caught before any damage could be done, except for the attack yesterday, but we are not yet sure he had anything to do with that. It is all being looked into."

Petunia nodded. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"Everything," the old man hesitated slightly, "I came to leave Harry in your care."

The boy snapped back to attention, looking at Petunia and Dumbledore in turns.

Petunia's eyes widened. "My…" she shook her head quickly. The old man turned to the boy.

"Harry, do you think that perhaps you should go to the bathroom?"

"I don't have to go," The boy replied quickly.

"We have a long trip ahead of us," Dumbledore insisted, "I would prefer you went now. It is upstairs and to the right, is it not?" He turned to Petunia who nodded dumbly.

The boy looked… was it disappointed? He did not, however, say another word and instead wandered away toward the stairs. Her own children stood aside as the boy passed, and then crowded at the bottom of the stairs, watching him climb and disappear out of sight.

Dumbledore turned back to Petunia. "Please, continue."

"I have no room, and I have two children of my own to care for. I can't do it." She sprung to her feet and walked to the door to show him out. "I don't mean to be rude, but you might want to think of finding someone else. Even if that lunatic is back in that… that place, I can't take him. She got herself killed because of him, and I can't endanger my family."

"None of you would be in danger, Petunia. His stay with you may not be very long at all, but we need to have him somewhere safe while everything returns to normal."

"I am Mrs. Dursley, sir."

"Forgive me." Dumbledore replied, though he did not look the least bit sorry that he had used her given name.

"So you admit that there is danger?"

"Not to you or your family, but we fear Voldemort," Petunia swallowed, "may be close rising again, in which case, we will all be in danger."

"You cannot expect me to do this! My husband-"

"Can be persuaded."

"He is very close to losing his job, what if something should happen?"

"If you accept your responsibility as his only living relative to take care of him, I can assure you that nothing unfortunate will happen to you. You have my word that I will care for you and your family, and should you and your husband ever have financial problems, I shall help you in whatever way I can, whether it requires finding a way for your husband to keep his job, or providing him with a job myself. I can guarantee you that your family shall not see hardship as long as you perform your duties."

Petunia stared in the direction of the stairs, expecting him to come back down any moment.

"I'll have to think about it." She answered, letting herself drop on to the couch.

Dumbledore nodded. "I will return tomorrow afternoon to place Harry permanently and officially in your care. Will that be enough time for you to talk it over with your husband?"

"Permanently?"

"We shall assume so, to be on the safe side. There may be other arrangements that can be made, but for the time being, this is the safest place for him. I will be honest with you and tell you there is a possibility he may have to stay in your care until he is of age."

"My husband will not like the idea. And if the boy causes too much trouble, he will have to go."

"I have every reason to believe Harry is an intelligent child with a wonderful disposition who will not trouble you at all." Dumbledore smiled as the boy came down the stairs.

"Perhaps I should introduce you, then. Harry, this is your Aunt Petunia, sister of your mother, Lily." Harry nodded and Dumbledore continued, "You will be staying with her."

The boy smiled and his sickeningly green eyes shone as he waved. He then turned to Dumbledore and said, "Am I staying here now?"

"Oh, I think not quite yet. I know you must be excited about meeting your new family, but there are still things for us to do." Dumbledore let himself be led to the front door by Petunia.

"Where are we going?" the boy asked, following the old man but glancing at Dudley and Daisy as he neared the door.

"We are going to visit Remus Lupin, a friend of mine."

The two walked outside, and Petunia shut the door as soon as they cleared the frame, hoping they would leave soon. It would not do for them to be seen by her neighbours. She opened the door after a minute to make sure they were gone. The street was empty, and the only sign of life was old Ms. Figg looking out of her window.

Petunia only hoped the old bat had not seen anything.