Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

-oOoOo-

Potter Haven

Chapter 13

After stretching languidly, Harry blinked to take in the early morning light. He groped blindly for his glasses before putting them on and bringing the world into focus.

By the looks of things, it was not long past dawn, too early really for getting up but at the same time, far too late to even attempt to go back to sleep. Mentally, he reviewed his day ahead: it was a Saturday, which meant he would be off to the Plough later. And it was to be a late shift too. Angus had mentioned that there was a busload coming in for dinner and had asked Harry to stay a bit later.

Half-heartedly, Harry threw off his blankets, swung himself out of bed and padded across to his dresser. A smile so wide that it nearly split his face broke out as he spotted the line of birthday cards atop the dresser. Every time he saw them it was the same, but then, why wouldn't it be? These were the first birthday cards that he'd ever received.

There on the end was the beautifully hand-made card from Luna with the strangest creature with curled horns on top of its head that she'd painted on the front of it. Next to it was card from Neville. Hermione's card held pride of place in the centre, with Sirius' to its right. And, rounding out the lot was the small, simple card from Professor McGonagall. They'd been sitting there for a week now ever since his birthday last Saturday and he had no intention of taking them down for a long time to come.

-oOoOo-

"Morning, Dobby," Harry called as he strode into the kitchen.

"Good morning Master Harry Sir," the little elf bounced, "is Master Harry Sir wanting some breakfast?"

"It's Saturday, Dobby," Harry reminded him, only to see a pair of large bat-like ears droop.

"Maybe just a piece of toast, then," Harry relented, causing those ears to spring back into life at the same time as the gaudily dressed elf began rocketing around the kitchen.

"There you is, Master Harry Sir," Dobby beamed as he placed a plate piled with four pieces of toast in front of where Harry sat at the bench.

With a sigh, he picked up the top piece and took a bite. He simply knew that he'd just done the wrong thing. Saturdays were supposed to be Dobby's day off. But now that he'd given in once, he'd be tempted to do it again. The problem was that he could see how much it meant to his little friend to be allowed do things for him. What was worse was what he was going to get Dobby to do later that evening. Unfortunately, it couldn't be helped.

"Dobby, do you remember what I asked you to do tonight?" Harry asked.

A large grey head nodded vigorously. "Dobby knows, Master Harry Sir. Dobby can do the glamours easy. Dobby won't let Master Harry down."

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry smiled through a mouthful of toast. "Go have fun doing whatever it is that you do on your day off, okay? I'll see you tonight."

With a sad look, Dobby raised one hand and snapped his fingers, disappearing with a small pop.

With a sigh, Harry pulled the Goblin Postal Service Box to him to examine his mail.

Opening the lid, he found a pair of letters along with his copy of The Daily Prophet. Placing the letters to one side for now, Harry unfolded the paper. Seeing the headline, he was glad that he hadn't been drinking just then, otherwise he was sure that he would have sprayed it everywhere.

Dumbledore Guilty!

By Rita Skeeter

Yesterday saw the trial of Albus Dumbledore held in front of a full court of the Wizengamot to determine exactly what happened at King's Cross Station on June 30 this year.

As readers will recall, it was then that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, suffered from a burst of 'accidental magic' on the muggle side of King's Cross putting our entire world at risk. Madam Amelia Bones and the DMLE's investigation determined that the other culprit from that day was the Chief Warlock himself!

Under questioning, Dumbledore claimed that he couldn't remember the incident at all. Apparently, the injuries he suffered that day have affected the 'greatest mind in the wizarding world'! Madam Bones countered this by bringing in witnesses to the incident, including a muggle. That's right readers, the most revered members of our society were yesterday subjected to the presence of a mere muggle!

It seems that The-Boy-Who-Lived was in the midst of a private conversation with fellow Hogwarts student Hermione Granger, a rather plain-looking twelve year old, when they were interrupted by Dumbledore himself. This reporter wonders exactly what that conversation entailed? Was it simply a conversation between two friends or was it, as many suspect, a romantic interlude between Harry Potter and his first love?

Either way, Dumbledore's interference and attempt to circumvent a magical vow that was taken by Harry Potter, resulted in the bout of accidental magic and subsequent disappearance of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

According to expert of magical vows, Unspeakable Johnson, Dumbledore attempting to force Mister Potter to return to live with his muggle relatives in violation of the vow that he had taken, forced his magic to react exactly as was expected. (Potter's magic knocked every person, magical and muggle alike to the floor throughout King's Cross Station as well as throwing the Chief Warlock headfirst into a concrete pillar.) Of course, this reporter wonders exactly how dangerous The-Boy-Who-Lived is when even his accidental magic causes that kind of damage.

Dumbledore's pleas of ignorance of the magical vow when he was present at Potter's trial for breaking the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry for making said vow left all within the chamber wondering exactly how mentally capable the once revered Chief Warlock was. And that, combined with his 'memory loss' of the June thirty event, meant that his guilt in his part that led up to the event was a forgone conclusion.

While Dumbledore's fine and removal as the magical guardian for all muggleborn and orphaned children at Hogwarts was welcomed by all, one has to wonder why a person who can place a child in such danger can still be considered acceptable as the Headmaster for one of the most prestigious schools in Europe.

This reporter sincerely hopes that the parents of our children take an active interest in the happenings of Hogwarts while such a person remains in charge of their education.

Wide-eyed, Harry dropped the paper to the counter-top. Dumbledore had been found guilty of causing him to have an accidental magical outburst? Did that mean that he wasn't responsible for what happened? Could he go home without having to worry about being charged and having his wand snapped? Could he see his friends again?

Hands shaking, he picked up the letter that was addressed to him in his godfather's untidy scrawl.

Hey Pup,

How are you? Wherever you are, I hope that you're trying to live your life, not just staying hidden away. Wherever that is, you must be doing something right – no-one has a clue where you're hiding. But it doesn't make it easy for those you've left behind. Take some time to write some more, hey? We all miss you heaps – me, Remus, even Minerva.

Now, I'm guessing that you've probably already heard about Dumbledore's trial, what with that Prophet subscription that Beth took out for you. But knowing the Prophet, I doubt that you've got a proper picture of what really happened.

So, here goes:

Madam Bones managed to get Dumbledore convicted on two of the three charges that she brought him up on. Really, it's the best that we could hope for. Convicting Dumbledore was always going to be an iffy thing at best – the man simply has gathered more allies than he knows what to do with.

The upshot is that he's been found guilty of causing you to lose control and have that accidental magic burst at King's Cross.

But unfortunately, that doesn't change a lot for you. Yes, Dumbledore was the cause, but you were the one who did the magic. Dumbledore's guilty verdict will help when and if you're ever brought to trial. Julius Tentridge, the lawyer that I hired for you, was pleased as anything about the guilty verdict and set to work to use that combined with whatever else he's got in mind as part of your defence. Unfortunately, he's not quite ready yet.

Neither of us can work out whether you being hidden away like you are is going to hurt your case or help it. You ran, which is a bad thing, but it gives us more time to work on your defence, which is good.

Anyway, enough of that.

You said in your last letter that you're starting to teach yourself magic? I don't know that that's a good idea, pup. At your age, doing magic without an adult to help you could get you into a world of trouble, either with trying to control what you're doing or reversing whatever damage you end up doing to either yourself or whatever's around you. Perhaps it'd be best if you simply work on the theory for now, huh?

I can already guess your answer but if you really want to continue learning magic where you are, how about letting me or Remus or someone come and stay with you. Promise that you'll at least think about it.

Let us know what you decide.

Sirius.

Harry slowly refolded the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. He really wasn't sure what to think about Sirius' idea. Sure he'd love to have someone else besides Dobby around but he was sure that with every other person that joined him in Potter Haven, the danger of being discovered would increase exponentially.

And besides, he was doing alright at the moment, not that he'd actually tried to do a lot of magic – he'd been concentrating on the theory at the moment. Really, the most dangerous thing that he'd been doing was the sword work that he'd been attempting to learn by copying the training dummy down in the basement.

Putting those thoughts aside for later, Harry picked up the second letter that was waiting for him and smiled. He'd recognise that neat, elegant handwriting anywhere.

Dear Harry,

How are you? I've been so worried about you. I know that you keep saying that you're somewhere safe, but that doesn't stop me worrying. I really wish that you'd tell someone where you are but I do understand why you don't, not that I like it mind you, just that I understand.

I thought that I'd take the chance to send this to you while I'm still in England. I don't know if you've heard, but Professor Dumbledore was put on trial for making you perform accidental magic back at King's Cross. My dad and I were called as witnesses to the event, so Madam Bones arranged for our whole family to get International Portkeys to and from America for the trial.

It was a bit daunting having to tell the whole Wizengamot what happened, but I managed it. Dad said that it felt like he'd gone back in time to visit a medieval court and I can't say that he's wrong.

Professor Dumbledore was found guilty so hopefully that means that everyone can stop blaming you and the charges will be dropped and you can come home soon. Fingers crossed, anyway.

We've already spent three weeks in America for my parents to go to their Dental Conference. I must admit that it's been a bit boring so far. I've been stuck in the hotel most of the time. At least I've been able to read ahead in our texts for this coming year.

Mum and Dad have promised to take me to Salem for the last couple of days of our trip. They've got a small museum in the middle of their magical district that's sure to be fascinating. I can't wait to see it. I promise to buy you a souvenir, but I'm not going to give it to you until I see you again. Perhaps that'll make you come out of hiding!

Do be careful while you're on your own, I've read of far too many instances of magical accidents that have happened to people who have tried magic unsupervised.

Is there any chance at all that everything'll be cleared up in time for you to come back to Hogwarts with us? It won't be the same if you're not there. How will I continue with my flying lessons without my instructor, hmm?

I better go, Dad says the Portkey's going to activate in ten minutes.

I miss you, Harry. Stay safe.

Love, Hermione.

Harry's eyes unfocussed as he slowly lowered the letter to the counter-top. In his mind, he was picturing Hermione writing to him, her eyes sparkling away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she thought hard about what to write.

With a rough shake of his head, he pushed the image aside. No. There was no chance that he was going to be seeing his best friend any time soon. And especially not at Hogwarts. Even if the charges against him were cleared up, there was still that small matter that he'd been expelled. As things stood at the moment, it could be years before he saw Hermione again.

A quick glance at the clock let him know that if he didn't hurry he was going to be late. Leaving everything where it was, Harry snagged one last piece of toast before bolting for the front door.

-oOoOo-

Da dada … da da dada da da

Harry spun around, his left hand coming up to ensure that the large tray balanced on his right arm stayed put.

Looking across the room, he sought out the source of music echoing through the Plough and Shear. The opposite side of the pub was still mostly full, unlike the empty restaurant half that he was currently in the process of cleaning up. Shuffling sideways a little, he managed to get a clear line of sight to the small stage against the far wall.

There, seated upon a tall stool, sat Angus. Above him, a single spotlight of intense white shone down upon his mostly bald head, not that Angus seemed to have noticed it at all. No, Angus' eyes were closed and he looked to be off in a world of his own, a world made entirely from the music that he was making.

In his hands, one end firmly between his lips, was a large golden instrument; a saxophone, Harry realised. Harry watched, mesmerised as Angus played through the tune that had the audience enraptured. Harry didn't really know much about music, but he instantly knew that this he liked. It was mostly slow with the occasional upbeat bar or two thrown in for good measure.

As he watched, he noticed one or two of the crowd swaying slightly, others tapping their feet or nodding their heads. All too soon, the tune was over but before anyone could clap, Angus had launched into a second song, this one faster and livelier. Harry found himself smiling and his fingers began tapping away on the tray in his hands.

He stood there, watching for the whole song, mesmerised by the tune, in awe of the sound and incredibly attracted to the instrument in Angus' hands.

A sharp knock on the wood at the bar snapped Harry back to reality and he looked across to see Jillian leaning behind the bar, a smile on his lips even as she gestured to the room behind him. With a sheepish smile, Harry spun around and got back to work.

The crowd that'd been in that night had filled the restaurant part of the pub almost to overflowing, making hours of work for all three of them. Harry had spent most of his time either in the kitchen helping with the preparation of the meals or delivering said meals to their customers. Now the bus had left and it was Harry's job to clean off the tables and to wash up the detritus that was left.

As he worked ferrying dirty plates, silverware and cups to the kitchen, his ears never strayed from the dulcet tones coming from Angus' sax. It seemed to lend his feet wings and the work felt lighter. Even when he was confined to the kitchen washing the dishes, his ears strained to hear the music.

Song after song filled the entire pub until suddenly, it came to an end accompanied by the sounds of dozens of people applauding the mini concert that they'd been given.

-oOoOo-

"That was amazing, Angus!" Harry exclaimed as he emerged from the kitchen a short while later, his hands busy wiping themselves on a dishcloth.

With a smile and a wave, Angus brushed off his compliment. "Ta be honest, it was a bit rusty. Bin a while since I played a tune."

"You need to do it more often," Jillian admonished. "You know everyone loves to hear you play."

"Everyone, huh?" Angus asked.

"Yes, everyone," Jillian replied. "Especially me, as well you know."

"How long have you been playing?" Harry asked, his eyes drifting to the golden instrument resting on a stand up on the stage.

"More years than I like to remember," Angus replied and then, after eyeing Harry up and down, "come to think of it, I reckon I was aboot your age when I first picked up me first sax."

"Is it hard to play?" he asked eagerly.

"About as hard as any other instrument, I suppose. But you'll never find another sound to match it," Angus replied with a soft smile.

"Do you … do you think that you could teach me?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling shy.

A broad smile broke out across Angus' face. "Reckon I could, reckon I could. What'd ya say we add in a lesson after we close the Plough every Saturday?"

"I'd like that," Harry smiled.

The sharp sound of footsteps crossing the pub floor turned the three around.

"Hadrian, are you ready to head home?" the tall, black haired man asked.

Harry stared at the man. He had the same hair as him, but with brown eyes instead of his green. Surprisingly enough, he was wearing non-descript dark brown pants and a black shirt.

"Dad!" Harry replied, remembering himself.

"Ah, ye must be Mister Evans?" Angus said, extending a hand.

"That's right. I'm Dobbin Evans," the man replied. "And you're Mister Angus McHenry."

"Call me Angus. This is me wife, Jillian," Angus introduced.

"It's nice to meet you both," Dobbin stated. "I must thank you for giving Hadrian a job."

"Oh, it's no trouble. In fact, it's Hadrian that's been doing us a favour. He's a good hard worker," Angus smiled.

"That's good to hear," Dobbin replied. "Well, Hadrian, are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded. "Just let me get my jacket."

-oOoOo-

As soon as the pub had been lost in the dark, Dobbin placed one hand on Harry and the other on Harry's bike and a sharp crack rent the night.

They arrived out the back of the manor of Potter Haven, just off the patio where Harry had come to leave his bike when he wasn't using it. After leaning the bike up against the wall, he turned back to find a small house elf looking up hopefully at him.

"You did great, Dobby, absolutely brilliantly!" Harry said enthusiastically. "Thanks so much. That should put to rest the questions that Angus and Jillian were starting to ask."