Title: A New Chance Continued

Author: pyrodaemon

Author of Original Story: Curalium Lacrimo

Pairing: Harry Potter/ Luna Lovegood

Rating: M for Future Content

Archived: fanfiction(dot)net under pyrodaemon

Beta: Blueowl (any mistakes are on me)

Website: /group /pyrodaemon87/ its ya hoo in the beginning but FFN keeps taking out the ya hoo.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter Eighteen

Trying Times

Harry shifted uncomfortably under the heavy gaze of the Headmaster, resisting the urge to just spill the beans and tell the older man everything. He wasn't even sure why exactly he was keeping his time traveling a secret. Well, he knew the excuse he gave himself – that he didn't want the older man to make all the decisions this time, didn't want him to stop laughing and handing out candy like someone's slightly dotty grandfather. The war had utterly destroyed Albus Dumbledore and every decision he made that hurt someone tore little pieces of his soul away. Dumbledore was a kind and gentle old man with a generous spirit, and giving the orders for the resistance to stop taking prisoners and start taking lives had been the last thread that held the man together. Watching as less people came back from battles had been hard on everyone, but was especially hard on their leader.

Harry wanted to spare him that if he could.

"How do you like living here, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he finished adding tea to his cream and sugar.

"It's really nice, sir." Harry smiled at the man and took a sip of his own tea – proper tea with only a lump of sugar and no cream – to hide most of his smile at Dumbledore's obvious delight of his own tea. "Tom and Melinda are very nice and this is the best room I've ever had."

"It is very nice, isn't it?" Dumbledore looked around, taking in the numerous books and the mess Harry's desk had become with all the scattered notes on his homework, what he wanted to teach in his tutoring class, and various ideas for Rune powered objects he had.

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yes, and the people are great too. Besides the Dodderidges, there are loads of people who talk to me and tell me about what Hogwarts was like in their day. I've had several discussions with people on what the OWLs and NEWTs will be like as well as the classes that used to be available at Hogwarts. Why was dueling disbanded in the 70s, sir?"

"Ah, that is a sticky question, Harry." Dumbledore set his tea down and Harry followed suit. "The short answer is because, due to Voldemort, tensions ran very high and caused problems the Staff just didn't have time to deal with."

"People took spars and duels and made them actual fights?"

"Dangerous fights." Dumbledore nodded his head. "We'd considered for nearly a year shutting down the Dueling class, but couldn't quite bring ourselves to do so as the class was very helpful and, after they left, several students told us that the class had saved their lives during a fight against Death Eaters."

"If it was so useful, why shut it down? Couldn't you have just hired an Auror to come in on Saturday and teach it? That way you wouldn't have had to keep another person on Staff full-time."

Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, that idea didn't occur to us at all. Professor Flitwick was the only professor who had time to spar, and, as the Dueling class was open to all students 2nd year and above, he had a lot of students to look after. We allowed the Head Boy and Girl help run the class with the Prefects helping them. Unfortunately, in the late 70s, I made a man into Head Boy and a small group of students strenuously objected to that choice. The Head Boy was a good man and a great friend. He treated all the younger students very well – even those in a House he was near famous for disliking — and got along with 4/5 of the school. Regrettably, he had a hot temper and, at the time, was only beginning to get control over himself. He had a rather intense rivalry with another student stemming from the hatred his best friend had for the other boy. That rival had reached new heights the previous year and was only getting worse that year as well. That rivalry bled over into everything this young man did. Both he and the other boy – along with the Head Boy's friends – were all at fault. The Head Boy and his best friend antagonized the other boy. In turn, the other boy, along with his group of friends, did nothing but torment the Head Boy and his best friend as well as, I'm sorry to say, a great deal of the school.

"During one of the last sessions of the Dueling class, the other boy thought it would be funny if he fired a string of curses off into the crowd of students and gravely injured many of them. When the Head Boy moved to restrain the other boy, they got into a duel – Flitwick had rushed many of the more gravely injured students off to the Infirmary so wasn't there to stop it. The duel only stopped when the Head Girl foolishly jumped between the two of them." Dumbledore sighed deeply and removed his glasses to rub his eyes before replacing them.

"I can say this for the Head Boy, he wasn't dueling the other boy so much as trying to keep the other students safe. The Head Girl spent nearly a month in the Infirmary due to injuries inflicted on her from the other boy. Many of the students who were hurt suffered long lasting symptoms from the curse used on them, and one was so disfigured that she took her own life. She was labeled for four years as, I believe, the most beautiful, perfect girl at Hogwarts and didn't know how to deal with not still holding that title. The Dueling class was, needless to say, canceled, and we haven't been able to bring ourselves to reopen it."

"I understand that," Harry murmured after a moment of shocked silence. He had thought they stopped the Dueling class because Dumbledore was a bleeding heart (which he was) and no one else had enough guts to stand up to him if he put his foot down (which they didn't). But to find out that something really bad had happened, that someone had injured so many students for such a petty reason, and that one of those students had taken her own life, was appalling. In the Wizarding World, even more so than the Muggle World, suicide is scorned. Both the victim and the family of the victim are ridiculed by the rest of society because it is believed magic can fix anything. Of course, the potion to remove scars wasn't invented until '89, at least ten years too late for the girl who died, but there was the good old glamour charm. "I do understand that. However, with the lack of teaching for Defense, don't you think getting an Auror in on Saturdays or Sundays would be a good thing? Then people will know how to defend themselves and the teacher won't be hit by the curse that's supposed to be on the Defense job."

Dumbledore sighed. "Professor Flitwick has asked time and again to restart the Dueling Class, but the Board of Governors refuses to allow the man who let the 'bit of unpleasantness' – a direct quote by the way – be the one to restart the class. If it happens at all, Flitwick won't be allowed anywhere near it, despite being a Champion Dueler."

"That is too bad." Harry frowned. "But surely there are Aurors, retired or who were hurt in the line of duty and has time off, who can come in once a week and teach us? It doesn't even have to always be the same person, though I wouldn't suggest it switching all the time. Maybe long-term people. Aurors who have five or six or even ten months to devote to the class and you don't have to hire the person on. You can just pay him or her to come in on Sunday and maybe take all three meals here. In fact, it would almost be better if it isn't the same person all the time. Get us to understand that not everyone fights in the same way. Some are more physical, some don't move at all and hide behind shields."

Dumbledore gazed at Harry over his glasses, his look very firm. "And how would you know, Harry, that not everyone fights in the same way?"

"Dudley and his gang, of course, Professor. Dudley could never run fast enough to catch me if I got going, so he got another boy who was smaller and faster than him who had longer legs than me to run after me if I ran. But Piers was physically weaker than the other boys and when he caught me alone his entire strategy was to keep me so busy I couldn't run away, even if he didn't hurt me very often. He'd just go in for quick strikes, then back away and circle around me then move in again. Dudley and Gordon were known for knocking a person down and going in with their feet, kicking the person until they were really in pain, then jumping on top of them and going for the face."

Dumbledore's face was pale and his eyes were closed, like he was in extreme pain. "I am so sorry, my boy. So very sorry."

Harry leaned forward with a concerned frown and touched the arm the Headmaster had on the table next to his tea cup. "Professor, it wasn't your fault."

"It was, my boy, it was. I made the choice to leave you with the Dursleys and I made the choice not to check on you. This entire ordeal can be placed directly at my feet."

"Hey now, that's not nearly fair to you. You're not a god, Headmaster, you're only a man. You're a man who runs a school and has several other positions that makes your life very busy. Why would you check on one orphan, no matter how well you knew his family? You have nearly a thousand people who rely on you every day to keep them safe and their school running. Besides, who would have thought that Lily Evan's sister would be such a malicious, unpleasant, selfish woman? Everyone I have met since coming here tells me that my mother was a near saint. Now I don't believe that, she had to have her flaws. Anyway, people remember well enough of her that I can't imagine anyone would think her sister could be a child abuser or even that she could stand back and let a child be hurt without doing something. You are not all knowing, sir, nor are you all seeing. How could you have predicted that the Dursleys would do something like that to me? And besides, while I wouldn't choose the Dursleys, ever in a million years, it has made me into the person I am and I don't think that's a bad person."

"No, my dear boy, not a bad person at all." Some of the tension bled out of the man's shoulders and the haunted look in Dumbledore's eyes faded a little, though it was in no way gone.

"Perhaps, sir, instead of looking at the negative of this situation you should look at the positive."

"Positive?" Dumbledore frowned, clearly puzzled on how anything from this situation could be a positive.

"You might be able to get funding from the Ministry to fund an all magical orphanage. Then you can use Hogwarts' registry to collect up the magical orphans from the UK and place them with people who will understand that they haven't been taken over by demons and aren't evil. While I don't think taking children from their parents is a good idea, I also don't think leaving them with people who couldn't possibly understand them is the way to go about it either."

Dumbledore stared at him in shock. Oh score for me! It's not often someone gets to shock Dumbledore as often as I do! "I have never thought of that. Orphans have always just been left in Muggle orphanages."

"Just because it's always been that way doesn't mean it should continue to stay that way," Harry said gently. "But that's neither here nor there." Harry laughed. "We were talking about the Dueling class." Harry frowned, trying to remember what they were talking about. "Oh yeah, so having different long-term teachers would actually probably be a really good idea. It'll give students, including myself when I get old enough, a chance to get used to fighting people who aren't all going to fight the same way. I can't imagine that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would have a problem with it. They have to get tired of receiving substandard candidates for their Auror program."

"No, they have complained about it quite often." Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "You seem very concerned about the state of Hogwarts' students. Particularly their Defense studies."

"The world will one day rest on the backs of the young. Granted, seeing as witches and wizards live to be absolutely ancient," Harry said the last in a gentle, teasing way that caused Dumbledore to chuckle. "It will be a long while, but one day we will be the people the younger generation looks up to and despair as old stiffs. It will be our job to guide and protect the children and how will we be able to do that if none of us – or even just a handful of us – can do any kind of defensive magic with any kind of success." A pensive look stole over Harry's face and his eyes became hard. "Also, I know that nearly half of the so-called 'Inner Circle' of Death Eaters escaped justice after Voldemort fell in '81. That means that some 15 or so people are out there waiting for the chance to move. Some of them are quite high in the Ministry of Magic's hierarchy, with a few even having a direct ear to the Minister. So when they make a move, our society will be crippled from the inside out. Lucius Malfoy is the Minister's 'dearest friend' and from everything I've heard of the man, he's a horrible, awful man who should have been locked up at the first chance someone got. After Bellatrix Lestrange, he is considered one of the most vicious, bloodthirsty Death Eater, which is actually a frightening thought because the entire group is considered vicious and bloodthirsty."

"You do bring up some good points, Harry."

"An entire generation of students has no idea how to defend themselves, sir. I know that after 1960 most of the defense professors have left something to be desired, but the students after the 70s don't even have the chance to say 'I didn't have a good defense professor but I had a great dueling professor'. They're all helpless or they do self-study, which, while not a bad thing, isn't nearly as good."

"I do see your point, Harry, and I will seriously consider your arguments." Dumbledore smiled at the boy in front of him, thinking that it was a little frightening — the similarities between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. Both were abused by the people who were supposed to protect them, both had few to no friends growing up and both were loners. Both boys were also very handsome, even as young children, and both were charismatic. However, the differences between the two boys were staggering. Tom Riddle had never cared for another person in his entire life. He cared only for how that person could help him and advance his plans. Harry Potter was tutoring a group of people when he admittedly didn't like half of them. He was arguing to get better defense professors for the students and to restart the dueling club. Yes, Tom Riddle and Harry Potter had startling similarities, but they were still as different as night and day.

"How are your tutoring sessions going, my boy?"

Harry gave him a disbelieving look. "I thought you were watching them. I mean, the spying charm in the ceiling was well hidden beneath the sky enchantment, but I still found it."

Dumbledore laughed heartily. "Yes, I did set up the charm, but it is nothing against you. We charm all the classrooms where students are teaching others. One, to make sure the student is not taking advantage of another student and, two, to make sure if something unforeseen happens that help can be quickly dispatched. Most clubs take place on Saturday and at least two teachers take a shift to watch over them. It's more effective than having to schedule the student groups around the times when a particular professor is available."

"That makes sense. I know there are a lot of groups at school. Anyway, the class is going fine. I've already seen a marked improvement in every one of my peers and even those who turn up rarely have improved beyond what they were before they attended my lessons. It is – I'm quite proud of them all."

"That does remind me. How would you like to take lessons with me next year? You should be recovered enough from your guardians ill-treatment of you and know enough by then that it won't be a waste of either of our time for me to tutor you."

"Like an apprenticeship?"

"Nothing so formal, but like one, yes."

"I'd love to." Harry beamed at the man. He'd never had one-on-one lessons from Dumbledore, though he'd always wanted them. The man wasn't known as the greatest Wizard of this century because he was old. He was just a great wizard, and to think of everything he could pass on to Harry.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps you'd like to indulge an old man for tea occasionally throughout the rest of this year?"

"I'd be honored." Harry swallowed reflexively. He wondered, in a vague sort of way, why Dumbledore had never given him lessons before. After the War began he could understand because they'd both been so busy just surviving that doing much of anything else – there just hadn't been time. After Dumbledore died and Hogwarts fell, Harry had started teaching himself. That was all he could do between battles. Sit around doing nothing, clean the house and take care of everyone else, or read. He'd chosen Hermione's favorite method to pass time and had started reading. When you read enough you're bound to pick up a few things now and then. Those few things became more and more until he liked to think he was giving Hermione a run for her money.

However, before the war began, there was plenty of time to teach Harry anything he wanted. Though Harry knew he hadn't been the most dedicated student, if Dumbledore had asked him to learn something, he did. Expect for Occlumency. But that had been Snape's fault. He'd even admitted it to Dumbledore that he hadn't actually taught Harry Occlumency. He'd even learned potions when Dumbledore had demanded it. Harry had ended up working with Snape for what seemed like years before the man was killed.

Harry hadn't noticed until now, but he'd crossed his arms over his chest and hunched his shoulders protectively as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Thinking about how things might have been if he had received serious training sooner was affecting him more than he realized. Looking up, his eyes met Dumbledore's, which then quickly filled with concern. Evidently, Dumbledore had been able to detect his turbulent emotions. Dumbledore's eyes were locked on Harry's face as he said, "Are you all right, Harry? You seem a little upset. Can I get you a calming potion?"

"No." Harry took a deep breath and pushed his emotions away. "No, it just surprised me that you offered is all. I've… no one has ever taught me because they wanted to before."

Dumbledore smiled and opened his mouth, then closed it as they both looked at the door. A knock came from Harry's bedroom door just seconds later. "Come in."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, Harry, but there's a Floo call from the Minister and he says it's 'imperative' that you get to the Ministry." Melinda turned and closed the door leaving them to say their goodbyes.

"It was a pleasure to talk with you, Harry, but it appears that our discussion is now over."

"Of course, sir." Harry stood up and walked toward the door that would lead the man outside to the small garden so he wouldn't have to go through the Cauldron to get to the apparition point as the garden didn't have more than basic wards on it. Harry paused before opening it. "Sir, if Fudge is being difficult about… certain issues, please remind him that any problems that occurred before he took office are not his problems and that people who screwed up before he was even in office are the ones who will pay for the problems they caused, not him. After all, he's only been in office a little over a year, right?"

"That's correct, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking thoughtful.

"Goodbye, Professor," Harry said, opening the door and leading the Professor past the flowerbeds and to the Apparition Point where the Headmaster disappeared with a soft pop of displaced air.

QsQsQsQsQsQsQ

Harry shifted uncomfortably in the suit Melinda had given him. Apparently, he needed to get over what happened to him and the only way that was going to happen was to watch the entire trial from start to finish. Which he was sure was going to be the most boring thing in the world. Trials weren't exciting and he didn't see how shows could be made about them.

The time turner had been delivered to him yesterday, which surprised him because he thought they'd wait until he was back in school. Of course, this gave him more time to study how to know that it was in working condition. He still wanted to fix the one he'd found in the Room of Requirement so when the Ministry took back the time turner he'd still have one that no one knew about.

The first half of the trial was boring, the lawyers making their opening statements on why the Dursleys were monsters or completely innocent of any crime.

When Mrs. McKinley was called to the stand, Harry smiled at the woman. He remembered her as the only teacher who ever thought there was anything wrong with his home life. The prosecutor smiled at the steel haired woman before speaking. "Please, Mrs. McKinley, describe the first day you had Harry Potter in your class."

"Well, I remember it was about a month after the start of the school year. There had apparently been some trouble with the boy's enrollment. I never asked what it was and no one ever told me so I couldn't tell you what the problem was. I had Harry introduce himself to the class and was surprised when he didn't tell everyone what his favorite color or food or telly program was, as that's what most five and six year olds do. He told the class that he liked being a good boy and that he didn't like being in trouble. I've been a teacher for forty-nine years and I've never heard a child say that so it stuck with me. I knew he lived with his aunt and uncle because his parents were dead and that Dudley Dursley, who was also in my class, was his cousin. Dudley was a very outgoing child and made friends easily. He also was a bit of a bully."

"How can a six year old be a bully?"

"If he wanted to play with one of the toys, he took it from one of the other children and if they raised a fuss-"

"Raised a fuss?"

"The most likely response was 'Hey, I'm playing with that! Mrs. McKinley! He took the toy from me!'"

"I see. Please, go on."

"If the child raised a fuss then Dudley would throw the toy at them or shove them down or hit them. A time or two he actually bit a child."

"Is that very unusual?"

"Not exactly. You can always tell a child is an only child and isn't socially developed when they act like that. They're not used to sharing, you see, but most of the time it only takes getting in trouble three or four times for them to understand that their behavior is unacceptable. Dudley never learned that. He just got smarter about it. He'd shove whoever got him in trouble during recess or he'd destroy the child's art project. But it was always very clever because I never caught him doing it even if I knew it was him. None of that happened for the month he got pneumonia, you see, so I knew it was him and not Harry Potter despite what his aunt would have me believe." She hurried on before the question could be asked.

"And the other children?"

"Well, I couldn't punish Dudley because I never saw him doing it. I suppose the other children just learned to stay out of Dudley's way and let him have whatever toy he wanted."

"And Harry?"

"Harry was always silent. He never spoke unless I spoke directly to him and then he said the least amount of words possible to answer me. He also knew how to handle Dudley, in that he didn't have to learn to just let Dudley have whatever he wanted. He already did so."

"And what did that tell you about their home life?"

"That something was very wrong in the Dursley household. You see it often with a favored child but certainly not usually to this extent. Dudley was a bully and nothing I did or said changed that. If I took away his recess, he destroyed the other children's projects. If I made him sit in the corner, he ate their lunches. If I didn't let him do the art project of the day, he beat his cousin up after school."

"And did you tell the Dursleys about their child?"

"Oh yes, I set up numerous meetings with them throughout the year. Mrs. Dursley told me that her son was perfect the way he was and that if he wasn't learning it was clearly the fault of the teacher. Vernon never showed up to the meetings."

"Is that usual?"

"Yes. It's not when the children get older but most parents show up to parent teacher conferences when the child is six. They lose interest later in the child's life, mostly the men lose interest. It's why I teach younger children because it's easier to correct bad habits when the parents are both involved."

"And what about Harry?"

"He..." Mrs. McKinley sighed. "He was easy to forget. He had a habit of staying very quiet and very still so that you often just didn't see him. He was very bright."

"How so?"

"He learned to read very quickly. While most of the children were still learning their alphabet, he was already reading. He already knew how to count and he could tie his own shoes before even setting foot in the classroom."

"You liked Harry then?"

"Well... He was unnerving. He just... had this way of staring at you that made it seem like he was looking into your soul. Like he could see everything you'd ever done and was judging you on it. My grandfather used to look at me that way and he survived both World War I and II. I didn't dislike Harry but I can't say that I was fond of him either. It's difficult to be fond of a child who you find uncomfortable. But I did my best for him while I had him as I do with every child who comes under my care."

"I see. No more questions."

The defense stood up. "Would you say you've taught a lot of children in your time, Mrs. McKinley?"

"Oh yes. As I said, I've been teaching for nearly fifty years."

"And you started with Secondary education?

"Yes."

"Then to Primary? You started with the older students and moved down."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I found that I didn't enjoy teaching the older children."

"Why?"

"Because they'd already developed their study habits and rarely did you find a student eager to learn. Younger children want to learn what you teach them. If you do it right they take that, the love of learning, with them for the rest of their life."

"And you like teaching?"

"I would say so. I've been doing it for almost fifty years."

"How long have you been teaching five and six year olds?"

"Nearly twenty years now."

"And how long have you been at Surrey Primary?"

"For twelve."

"Where were you before that?"

"Birmingham."

"So you've seen just about every family situation you can come across?"

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that but I've seen a great deal."

"What first made you suspect that Harry Potter was abused?"

"The difference between Dudley and Harry."

"Explain that."

"Dudley was overweight, at about 35 kilograms and Harry barely weighed 15. Dudley was of average height while Harry was the smallest student at school. I thought at first that he was three or four years old."

"And that couldn't have just been a medical problem?"

"That's what I thought at first so I called Mrs. Dursley and set up a conference to talk to her. I told her I feared for Dudley's weight, seeing as he was so large at such a young age. She told me that Dudley was just big boned like his father and that there was nothing wrong with her precious baby. I tried to convince her that Dudley could have health problems later in life if she let him continue. She ignored all my concerns. I told her that Harry was far too tiny for a boy his age and asked if he had any medical conditions or special needs that I needed to be made aware of."

"What did Petunia say to that?"

"That the boy ate more than his fair share at the table and if there was anything wrong with him it wasn't her concern. I remember that because it was one of the most horrifying things I've ever heard a parent say about a child under their care. Most parents, even extremely abusive ones at least pretend they care about their children outside the comfort of their own homes or when in the public eye at all, such as when they have visitors."

"And you think you are qualified to tell when a child is abused or not?"

"Of course, we're taught to look for these types of things."

"Then why were you the only one who saw it?"

"I suspect that has more to do with the Dursleys than Harry. I went and spoke to some of the neighbors after the year was out and was told that Harry was a psychopath and a liar and a thief. No one seemed to ever really look at Harry because of that."

"Surely you told someone other than just the Headmaster if you suspected abuse."

"I did. I went over him first to the Board, then to the police. Then I went straight to the DA himself."

"And nothing ever came of it?"

"They all said they'd look into it but when I called to ask about it later they all pretended that I never made a complaint at all."

"Pretended you didn't make a complaint?"

"Yes."

"And why do you think they did that?"

"I couldn't say. No one gave me an excuse. They simply told me that they had no record of my complaints. This is all despite the fact that I spoke directly to the DA himself in person."

Harry sat straight up in his seat, surprised by this coming out. So apparently he wasn't wasting his time by coming to this trial. Out of the corner of his eye he saw McGonagall and Dumbledore stiffen. Harry would bet any amount of money that magic had been involved in making those complaints go away. Would Dumbledore have done that? Harry asked himself. His eyes narrowed on the other man as Mrs. McKinley was dismissed and a neighbor took her place and noticed that the older man didn't meet his gaze or even look in his direction. Yes, if he believed that I was safer with the Dursleys than anywhere else. He's still the General. Question is, did he do it or was it someone else? Harry didn't like to think that Dumbledore would leave a child in that situation but was well aware that Dumbledore often did things he found unpleasant or distasteful during the war. Harry himself had often done things that gave him nightmares and made him sick up everything he ate the week following the event. But the way Dumbledore reacted that day back in August and every day that Harry had met him since made him think that Dumbledore had no clue how Harry was being treated. Oh Dumbledore knew, had known when he made the decision to leave Harry there, that Harry wouldn't grow up happy but the general belief was that Dumbledore didn't know Harry would be abused. So it was someone else messing with his life and that was unacceptable. Dumbledore could do whatever the hell he wanted because Harry had sworn loyalty to the man and would follow him into hell and back because he loved him. Anyone else doing the same would have to be put down and fast. He might be a puppet but he chose who had his loyalty and who could pull his strings, not the other way around.

Harry frowned as Doris Polkiss took the stand. He remembered the woman as being one of the more malicious gossipers in town and recalled the way she looked at him as if he was some kind of rabid, diseased animal. Harry came back from his memories to hear the prosecutor ask: "You are Petunia Dursley's best friend are you not?"

"Yes sir."

"How did you meet?"

"It was eleven years ago in March that we met. Our husbands belong to the same company, though they work in completely different departments, buildings in our case. We were at one of those meet and greet parties and we were both pretty heavily pregnant at the time, me with my third and Petunia with her first. It was hot and we bonded over how miserable we felt and how awful the heat was. It was spring, of course, but unusually warm that day. We found out half way through our conversation that we lived very close to one another – just a few streets over in fact. Petunia was nervous about being a new mom, seeing as her own mother died in a car crash and she hadn't even babysat as a teen. She was scared of the pain of labor and – well I'm an old hand at this. I'm the oldest of eight children the youngest of whom is fourteen years younger than me and all of my siblings have large families. I told her that no matter how much pain she was going to go through during the delivery, when she held her child for the first time, it would be worth it." Doris smiled.

"We got together a few times after that and had lunch or went shopping for baby things or new maternity clothes. Petunia is such a delicate woman and her pregnancy was hard on her physically and mentally. At the end of the pregnancy, the doctor told her she couldn't grow any bigger because her skin would start to tear. She had to buy new clothes ever three weeks or so. Finally, she ended up and just got some men's shirts and some sweat pants that barely fit her so she could grow into them."

"This is how you bonded?"

"Yes. While we were friends then we didn't become best friends until we went into labor. We were shopping and had to share a taxi. That poor man was near out of his mind with worry that we were both going to pop. I guess the fear of having your baby in the back of a cab is enough to bond people for life. That and, well, Petunia was frightened out of her mind and so, even though I was in pain, I helped her through her own."

"When is the first time you heard of Harry Potter?"

"At his birth. I hadn't known Petunia had a sister, you see, so when she got a card in the mail – one of those cute little blue things with the teddy bear on it — she asked me to open it because – I can't remember why but she was busy and we both thought it was from Gloria Duncan who moved away a few weeks before then but was due any day. I was surprised at the announcement of Lily Potter's child being born and the little note at the bottom which begged Petunia to forgive her."

"Do you remember what it said?"

"Oh yes, of course I do. It said 'Tuney I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that we didn't get along while growing up. Please forgive me for all the awful things I said to you. Know that I've forgiven you. Can't we just be a family again? Our boys can grow up loving each other and never forget how to as we did. Please.' It stuck with me because I hadn't known Petunia had a sister, as I said, and that said sister was begging to be forgiven for what I was sure was a childish spat. When I asked her about her sister, Petunia paled, went white as a sheet which I always thought was impossible outside a book, and snatched the card straight out of my hands and ripped it neatly in half then threw it away. I think I stared at her in shock, even if she hated her sister, to not reply to the card was not the Petunia I knew who was always unfailingly polite and proper and never rude to anyone even if she hated that. Especially if she hated them she was extra nice to them. She burst into tears and told me that her sister was mixed up with a crazy cult and she couldn't prove anything but she thought that they messed with her parent's car which is why her parents died and that Lily had told her that someone in their cult was trying to kill her and she was in hiding and Petunia didn't want to be mixed up in their witchcraft nonsense."

"Witchcraft?"

"You know, like the New Age potions and spells and other such hippy rubbish. I figured her sister got mixed up with one of those crazy murderers or maybe terrorists or something. If you remember that was when things were blowing up left and right." Doris shrugged. "Despite my opinion on the matter, it clearly scared Petunia and that was enough for me. About a year later, I'd nearly forgotten that Petunia had a sister at all, she called me up crying her eyes out. I couldn't understand a word she was saying so went over to her house – Jalo, my husband, took off work to watch the children. Through all the crying, I got that Lily had been killed by the crazy cult person and had been blown up and her husband was dead and her son had somehow, miraculously, survived his house blowing up but Petunia was terrified that someone else from the cult would hunt the boy down and kill her entire family."

"If she was that scared, then why didn't she just refuse to take the baby?"

"That's what I asked but, you see, she didn't have a choice in the matter. Someone literally left the baby on her doorstep without a word. She was scared that the 'good people' in the cult, as if there are good people in cults, would come and kill her if she got rid of the boy. Apparently, he was something of a figure of worship or something in their cult. Touched by the hand of God or something for surviving the madman when everyone else he went after died. I don't pretend to understand everything myself because if you join a cult you are clearly crazy and not expected to make a lick of sense, but she was genuinely afraid that if she gave the boy up she would be killed. She told me, years later, that she actually did take the boy to an orphanage but two days later he was back in his bedroom. She tried it again and again and again – six times. And each time the boy ended up back in his bedroom without anyone knowing someone had been in the house. It always happened when they were asleep and I can't imagine how terrifying it must have been to know that people were coming into your house when you were sleeping. Imagining what they could have done to her gives me the willies."

I stared at Doris in shock. I'd never known Petunia had actually tried to get rid of me. I always wondered why she didn't if she'd hated me so much.

"There are no records of Petunia leaving the boy in an orphanage either here in Surrey or in London."

"Well, I don't know anything about that. It's not like Petunia told me everything, did she? The only reason I knew was because she'd gotten a little tipsy and told me. She was terrified out of her mind that someone was watching her house. How else do you explain the boy just reappearing in his room? He was about seven when this happened so he couldn't have been more than three or four when she left him. It isn't like he got up and walked home."

"So you condone her beating the child?"

"Of course not. Hurting a child goes against everything inside me. But you have to understand it from Petunia's point of view. She hated her sister and everything to do with her sister. She thought these cult people had killed her parents, she knew they killed her sister and the husband and tried to kill the boy once. Someone was clearly watching her house and could get in and out of her house without her even knowing about it. Would you be scared? For both yourself, you husband and your child? It isn't a pleasant or good reason but it is an understandable reason all the same."

Doris was asked a few more questions before she was dismissed. Finally, they called an end to the trial for the day. Harry knew he wouldn't be called on tomorrow or probably any time within the next week and that the trial was going to drag on and on and on. Harry was startled when someone set a hand on his shoulder and nearly attacked until Dumbledore said, "Well my boy, this has certainly been an enlightening day."

He nodded and looked around to make sure no one was near. "Do you think someone was using magic to keep me in the house?"

"That is certainly a possibility, Harry. And it is one I will be looking into." Dumbledore had the hard look Harry had seen so often during the war and knew whoever had played around with his life was about to meet the harder side of Albus Dumbledore.

Melinda took hold of his shoulder, made their excuses to Dumbledore and McGonagall, and led him from the courtroom. "I'm up for some lunch, how about you Harry? It'll be good for me to eat something that I haven't had a hand in cooking."

Harry agreed and let her lead him through the pack of reporters, both Muggle and Magical, to a small café near the courthouse that he was sure got a lot of customers. They were silent as they gave their orders to a harried looking waitress. When they got their food, Melinda discreetly waved her wand and set up a privacy ward. Then she started asking him questions about Quidditch and his favorite team, which he didn't actually have, and which team he thought had a chance in the Cup this year. Harry told her that he would bet his right arm that the Moutohora Macaws and the Gorodok Gargoyles were going to the Cup and that the Macaws would win. Harry had spent enough time with Ron as a child to know everything about all the World Cups that had happened in the last fifty years. He knew very well every play made in the Cups that happened when he'd been friends with the red haired boy. He was relatively sure his being from the future wouldn't change them because he had nothing to do with profession Quidditch. "We can make that bet with the goblins if you want, Harry."

Harry just nodded and continued going on about the one subject that was completely safe and he was knowledgeable enough of. Now that he was actually talking about it he realized just how much he missed his favorite sport. He hadn't been to any of the games that year and so hadn't seen it played in years. But sitting in this tiny café with Melinda talking about the sport he'd loved throughout his childhood made him remember Oliver Wood and the Chasers and the Twins and how much fun practice had always been even with Wood being a nutcase. Maybe he'd arrange to go to a few games during the summer. See if there were any near the places he needed to be.

P.S. For all those of you who asked and I haven't got back to you for one reason or another: yes the titled of the last chapter was for Luna.

As always any questions or comments can reach me through review or PM and I'll do my best to answer.

Added: October 28, 2010