Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other character, location, or whatever, mentioned in the works of J.K. Rowling.
Credits: Thanks, as always to my talented and patient writing buddies.
Chapter 35: Meeting at the Leaky Cauldron Part 2
July 28, 1995
Stephen Wright stifled a sigh and discreetly glanced at his watch. In his unbiased opinion, this meeting ranked pretty high on the unproductive meter. Talking to the professors about possible school options for Kitty hadn't been bad, but this! With the exception of Dr. Granger, who seemed as confused at her participation as he and Janet were theirs, everyone else seemed to be keeping the real subject matter secret. It was almost as if they were being kept around in case they were needed, but needed for what he wasn't sure. Maybe they'll be more forthcoming after Mr. Weasley gets back, he thought hopefully. Professor Dumbledore had sent the red-haired wizard to check on something in the Census Library and Archive not long after the kids had been shooed out.
From what he'd been able to piece together the issue at hand was Harry, or more accurately, a.) where Harry was going to live now that his aunt and uncle had left England, and b.) how to keep him safe from this dark wizard everyone seemed so afraid of. Perhaps that was it. Harry seemed fit enough. It probably wouldn't be hard to train him up and teach him some basic self defense techniques, provided the boy was willing.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Janet shift in her chair and glance toward the door. No doubt about it, she was doing a slow burn. And with some reason, Steve thought, reaching down and giving her hand a squeeze under the table. Becky had gotten fussy during their talk with the teachers, and now she was showing signs of a low-grade fever. Madam Pomfrey had warned them against overexertion, saying she needed at least one more dose of Children's Pepper Up. If Harry hadn't volunteered to watch her, either he or Janet would have had to have taken her home.
Steve glanced at the door himself, wondering if Harry had gotten Becky down for a nap. He had little doubt he would, especially if he sang to her a little. Harry had a soothing quality to his voice that Steve frankly envied. Unfortunately, if Harry was successful he was going to have to hold Becky for the duration. Looks like the portable playpen would have been handy after all, he thought, sneaking another look at his wife and recalling how she had suddenly decided they needed the playpen when they were about five yards down the street. She would have turned around and gotten it, too, if he and Harry hadn't talked her out of it.
They'd kept the conversation firmly on Kitty and her abilities earlier, but the subject of accidental magic kept running though his mind. "Sometimes a child learns to repeat an early experience and develops a level of control." Professor Flitwick's words explained Kitty almost to a tee, but Steve couldn't help feeling that the more normal definition of accidental magic--especially how it occurred most often when the caster was stressed--fit Janet like a glove. Calm, she was kind of hit or miss in her "guesses" but stressed she was usually right. Curious, Steve filed that bit of information away, planning to make an appointment later.
Personally, he didn't see what the issue was with Harry's guardianship. Steve was as sympathetic as the next guy, but there was also a lot of truth in the adage "if it ain't broke don't fix it." The boy seemed happy enough here at the Leaky Cauldron, and from what he could see Tom had been doing a decent job looking after him. Maybe there was more going on here than there seemed to be.
"There's no change. They still can't find it!"
Well, this can't be good, Steve thought, turning with the others in the direction of the door. Arthur Weasley was standing just inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
"Oh, wait, check that, there has been a little change. The Minister knows it's missing now and the place is in an absolute panic trying to locate it."
"Interesting," was Professor Dumbledore's comment. "Please do sit down, Arthur."
Mr. Weasley sat, but clearly wasn't finished reporting. "That's not all, Albus, word in the halls is you're the one who took it."
"Is it indeed?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses. "Well, they're certainly welcome to look for it."
Mr. Weasley was less than amused. "This is serious, Albus. I was actually glad Percy's conscience started bothering him, but I never thought he'd go to Surrey and check on Harry!"
Steve didn't see what the problem was with this, nor, it appeared, did Tom, Janet or Dr. Granger, but the other witches and wizards around the table evidently did. Every one of them, even Harry's dog, sat up straighter and leaned towards the table as though Mr. Weasley now had their undivided attention.
And none of them looked happy.
Professor Snape looked especially displeased as he turned to Professor Dumbledore. "I told you we should have Obliviated that little fool."
"Percy is one of the Weasleys' sons," Tom said quietly from his place between the Wrights and Dr. Granger. "Obliviate is a spell that erases memories."
Steve nodded his understanding. Makes sense, he thought. It certainly explained the glare on Mrs. Weasley's face. He wouldn't have been surprised if the good professor suddenly crumpled where he sat. An argument seemed imminent, but Professor Dumbledore raised his hands, commanding them both to silence. "It's done, Severus. There's no time to quarrel amongst ourselves. Arthur, could you tell how much the Minister knows?"
Mr. Weasley frowned as he considered this. "Once Percy told me what he'd been up to I checked with Arabella Figg. He followed procedure and went to her house before approaching the Dursley home. She told him Harry's uncle accepted a new position overseas, but didn't go into detail. She thought he knew already. The good news is Percy, and by extension the minister, thinks Harry's guardian transfer was simply mismanaged. That puts the Ministry in a bad light, so they'll probably try to keep the story out of the Daily Prophet."
"That's the main Wizard newspaper," Tom said. Steve nodded again, grateful now that the old innkeeper had chosen a seat in the midst of the Muggles. Everyone else looked tense and worried and were probably in no mood to answer questions.
"That's something, I suppose." Dumbledore pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is he still planning to assign Harry a guardian himself?"
Mr. Weasley nodded. I believe so. Technically, the minister should contact Harry's relatives and verify their wishes, but Percy mentioned the Curator Tribuo statute and the Curator Absentis clause. That gives him some legal grounds to choose a guardian for Harry himself, and I think we all know who he's likely to ask." Mr. Weasley shared a grim look with the Hogwarts Professors and Mr. Lupin that made Steve sit up and pay a little closer attention. Obviously none of them were pleased by the prospect of this person--whoever he was--getting custody of Harry.
Janet touched Tom's arm. "Minister Fudge? Is that the person Harry told us about? The one who doesn't believe Voldemort's back?"
Tom grimaced. "The very same. But please, say, 'You Know Who' when referring to the Dark Lord. It's a bad omen to say his name aloud."
Dumbledore evidently heard this last bit, because he looked over at the resident Muggles. "Dr. Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Wright, I do appreciate you bearing with us."
Dr. Granger nodded graciously. "Not at all, Professor."
Janet wasn't in the mood to be so kind. Steve grinned behind his hand as she raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms on her chest. "My youngest is still not well, Professor, so if you don't mind I'd like to know what's going on and why you still need us here. I'm very sorry Harry's been displaced--heck, I'd consider taking him in myself if I could--but you haven't mentioned one thing we can influence or have any control over."
Tom nodded from his seat between Janet and Dr. Granger. "The same goes for me, Professor. The boy's been a pleasure to have around the old place this summer--very conscientious and hard working--but I'm not a relative. I have no claim on him."
Dumbledore looked over at Tom and Janet, an expression on his face Steve couldn't quite decipher. "How would you feel if I said you might?"
Tom and Janet looked at each other, then back at the headmaster. "What?"
"How would you feel if I said you might have a claim?" Dumbledore paused and looked between Tom, Steve, Janet, and Dr. Granger. "Any of you. That is why you are here. Knowing the possible risks, would you still be willing to take the boy in?"
"I..."
Steve shrugged when Janet faltered and looked up at him. "That's a hell of a question to answer on short notice, Professor. We'd need a little time to talk it over, and we'd also have to see what Harry thinks."
Janet nodded. "Yeah, Tom and I learned the hard way how much Harry hates being kept out of the loop." She paused to exchange a smile with the toothless wizard beside her then turned back to Dumbledore. "Why do you think we'd be considered as guardians, Professor? Steve and I can't protect Harry magically, and besides, we've only known him for a few weeks!"
Dumbledore studied the parlor ceiling for a moment, absently stroking his beard. "After Mr. Potter's parents were killed, a fair amount of protective magic was put in place to try to ensure his safety. One of these mechanisms was a failsafe placed on his Census and Archive folder. The folder was supposed to alarm if Harry was in danger, but the failsafe only activated if something happened to his aunt and uncle. As near as we can calculate, this failsafe was triggered on the first of July when Mr. Potter's last blood relatives essentially severed ties with him. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall have been researching the matter since we became aware of it, and they believe it is responsible for the magical invisibility Mr. Potter currently has."
"Harry's inability to receive owls, you mean?" Janet asked.
Professor McGonagall nodded. "We also think it's responsible for your inability to receive owls. Tom mentioned you were receiving threatening letters than suddenly stopped, and neither Professor Penstone or myself could successfully address an acceptance letter to your daughter Katrina."
Steve considered this, rubbing absently on his short beard. "Is that why Harry's been able to hide from you all summer? The folder's protection?"
Professor McGonagall shifted in her seat, looking rather uncomfortable. "Not entirely. We believe the protection developed in stages. If we understand the theory correctly, the Ministry had ample time to correct the matter, had anyone noticed anything amiss. No one did, so the folder assumed the Ministry had fallen and help from that quarter was not available. That's when it made Mr. Potter untrackable, and, we assume, began gathering information on the people around him. It's possible, highly likely in fact, that a guardian has been chosen."
"The whole situation is an unfortunate example of complacency," Professor Flitwick added. "In hindsight, the characteristics of the failsafe should have been modified from time to time to reflect Mr. Potter's age and circumstances, but they never were. I had all but forgotten the spells existed. To the point, Mr. Potter was only fifteen months old when this tragedy occurred, and quite unable look after himself. A guardian was essential to his survival."
"The folder still thinks Harry's a toddler?" Janet paused and traded an amused look with Steve. "That'll go over well."
Professor McGonagall's lips twitched, but she stopped herself before she smiled. "Quite."
Steve felt Janet's hand slip into his own and gave it a tight squeeze as Professor Dumbledore took up the tale again.
"The person or persons chosen would be someone Mr. Potter has spent time with this summer and is comfortable with. Based on that alone, Mrs. Wright, you and Tom are the most likely candidates. However, Mr. Potter did call upon Dr. Granger once, and he is quite fond of the Weasleys, so we are currently unsure who, if anyone, the folder chose. I'd hoped the folder would be available for examination, which is why I didn't bother explaining things earlier. Unfortunately it has gone missing--possibly in reaction to Minister Fudge's plans to nominate a guardian."
Janet nodded faintly on Steve's right. "Makes sense, but if we're talking about guardians now, Harry should definitely be here. I'll go get him and the girls."
"I believe that's a little premature, Mrs. Wright. No arrangements have been made."
"Premature? Arrangements?" Janet paused in the act of rising from her chair and raised an eyebrow at Professor Snape. "Don't you think Harry should have some say in these 'arrangements,' Professor? This is his life we're discussing, after all."
"Yes, but if a guardian has been selected, the continuation of the folder's magical protection may be dependent on our acceptance of its decision," Professor Dumbledore explained. "That is the crux of the matter, if we are correct."
Steve mulled that over then frowned. "Are you saying this is a done deal, then? That Harry and whoever the folder selected have no choice?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "No. The folder is not the Ministry of Magic. It does not have any real authority. The charms placed upon it could be overridden or removed if the parties find the situation unlivable, indeed, persuading the Ministry to accept the folder's decision may be a challenge."
Janet turned and looked at the headmaster for a long minute, a quizzical little frown on her face. "You really believe this protection is the best for Harry--and for us--don't you?" she said, making it more of a statement than a question.
Dumbledore looked startled for just an instant, then an almost grandfatherly smile graced his features. "I do indeed, my dear. Accidental though it's creation may have been, the protection is strong. Accidental or not, the magic is strong. I have lived over a century and have never seen its equal. If it is destroyed it would be difficult if not impossible to re-create."
"So all the answers are in a folder no one can find. Great." Steve shook his head. "What do we do now?"
"An excellent question, Mr. Wright. I'm afraid I don't know."
Fred Weasley picked up a biscuit and took a huge bite out of it. So far, he thought, it's been a really nutty day. Hell, what am I saying? Things have been nutty since the Quidditch World Cup!
Still, he had to admit, things had gotten exceptionally weird the last month or so. You Know Who's return, Cedric's death, Harry gifting George and himself with his Tournament winnings, learning Harry's Muggle relatives had run off, Harry hiding from them, the attack on the Burrow, and now this meeting at the Leaky Cauldron.
Glancing up, he discreetly studied his Quidditch team mate. Harry had changed a great deal over the last few weeks. Some of the changes were purely physical like his new height and weight, his haircut, and those compact things he was wearing.
Others were more than skin deep. Behaviors Fred couldn't recall Harry ever exhibiting before. He was acting almost afraid of them for Heaven's sake!
Equally surprising though far less troubling was the way Harry was calmly soothing ickle Becky to sleep. Glancing between Ron and Harry, Fred covered a smile with his hand. Harry was holding the little girl on his shoulder and singing softly to her like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
Fred traded an amused glance with George. There was no mistaking the respect in Ginny and Hermione's eyes, but he was completely blowing Ron's mind.
Still, fun as teasing Ron was, even indirectly, he reckoned the kid would get heavy after a while, especially after she was fully asleep. "Hey mate," he said, being careful to keep his voice down. "Want me to transfigure a cot for her? I'm seventeen now, you know," he said, smirking when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all turned in his direction, then traded a long-suffering look.
"Don't remind us," Ron said. Fred thought he looked grateful for a more familiar topic as he turned to address Harry. "The two of them got their Apparation licenses," he said, jerking a thumb in Fred and George's direction. "They've been Apparating downstairs every morning just because they can!"
Harry lost some of the edginess he'd been showing and actually smiled. "Really? That's brilliant!"
"Let's see if you still think so after a few days," Hermione said, while Ginny rolled her eyes. "Between the noise it makes, and never knowing when one of them is going to appear out of nowhere--even Mr. Weasley's gotten cross."
Mention of Arthur Weasley blew away all traces of Harry's good humor. Sighing inwardly, Fred watched the unwelcome guardedness steal back over his friend's features. Time for a change of subject. Unless he was sadly mistaken, ickle Becky was finally asleep.
"Here mate," he said, transfiguring a little cot. "Lay her down. I reckon you'll both be more comfortable."
Harry looked at the cot--a bang up job if Fred did say so himself--but seemed reluctant. "It's just a normal bed, right? It won't, you know, do anything, will it?"
Fred felt his eyebrows come together again, and saw a similar expression cross George's face. The two of them exchanged an entire conversation with a glance, then made a big show out of being mortally offended.
Fred started. "Why Harry!" he scolded, while George moved to Harry's other side, "I'm shocked!"
"Insulted!" George agreed.
"Appalled!"
"Cut to the quick!"
"I mean, really! What kind of chaps do you think we are?" Fred demanded, sneaking a peek to see if their theatrics were working.
They were. Harry was starting to look decidedly shamefaced. "Sorry guys."
"Hmm, don't be too sorry, your instincts are good," Hermione said, with a smile, before either Fred or George could graciously accept the apology.
"True, but I think they draw the line at pranking toddlers," Ginny said. Fred didn't miss the "you better not have done anything" look she threw in his and George's direction as she knelt by the little cot and pushed on it with both hands. When nothing happened she smiled up at Harry. "See?"
"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed, laying Becky on the cot. Once he got her settled, they sat in silence for a minute or two, then Hermione spoke up.
"You sing very well, Harry. Why didn't you ever tell us?"
Harry, Fred thought, looked a trifle embarrassed, but shrugged and answered the question. "It isn't important."
"But it is!" Ginny disagreed, after exchanging a disbelieving look with Hermione.
Harry shook his head. "Nah." When they would have argued further, he silenced them with a warning glance in Becky's direction. "Look, everyone thinks I'm supposed to deal with Volde--err--You Know Who, right? So even if you're right, what good is it? You think I could walk up and say, 'Oi, Voldie! Since music soothes the savage beast, how about I sing you a tune? Or better yet..." Fred watched along with the others as Harry paused and executed what might have been a pirouette, then bowed, sweeping an imaginary top hat off his head. "...may I have this dance?" he finished, making Hermione giggle and the Weasleys snort into their pumpkin juice. Even Kitty, who had been looking rather solemn since talking to the professors, unbent enough to smile. That, it appeared, was what Harry was aiming for.
"Hah! Gotcha!" Harry said with a grin, reclaiming his seat beside the brown-haired girl. "Aw, c'mon, what's wrong?" he asked, when her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.
Kitty glanced around looking uncomfortable, then shrugged. "It's Mom. She's scared and confused, and doesn't really like any of her choices."
That was news to Fred. Mrs. Wright looked rather tired, but seemed calm enough when she and her husband had followed Professor Dumbledore into the parlor.
Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "She told you that?"
Kitty glanced at Hermione, then looked at the floor. "No. She didn't have to."
Fred thought that was a rather cryptic statement to make, but it clearly meant something to Harry. While everyone else was trying to make sense of the whole conversation, Harry had a look of dawning comprehension.
"That thing...that thing your Mum does...you can do it too, can't you?"
Kitty shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially when it's loud. It came up when the teachers asked us questions."
"How did that go?" Harry asked.
"It was okay. Professor McGonagall and Professor Penstone talked about Hogwarts and the Salem Witches Institute."
That, of course, caught Hermione's attention. "What did they say?" she asked, ignoring the various sighs and eye-rolls around her.
Kitty shrugged again. "Some international board sets standards for the schools to follow, so the required classes are the same everywhere. Since I don't have a problem with accidental magic, I can stay in the Muggle school system and learn the magical basics from a tutor or go to magical school full time like you. Professor McGonagall is going to recommend some tutors for Mom but they aren't sure what to do with me yet. Kids usually go to one of the big magical schools 'cause they have more staff and offer more choices than a single tutor can."
"Well you have to go to Hogwarts," Harry said, clearly dismissing the other choices as mental. "Did you show them your ball?"
That got a smile and a nod. "You were right. Professor Flitwick really liked it."
Okay, that was too good to let go. "Your 'ball'?" Fred wondered aloud.
Kitty seemed hesitant, but Harry squeezed her hand. "It's all right. C'mon. These are my friends. I'd like for them to be your friends, too."
"Okay. Hold out your hand," Kitty said, addressing Fred. He did as she asked and the next thing he knew, she had somehow produced a glowing white ball and deposited it neatly on his palm.
"Wicked!" George said, sounding awed as he and the others crowded around for a closer look. He gave Kitty a big grin and said, "I think this is the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship. How long do they last?"
Kitty frowned as she considered the question, then shrugged again. "I don't know. I always just made them go away."
"Hmm, definitely an area for experimentation," Fred mused, squeezing the ball between his thumb and forefinger. We might be able to make an entire line of Wheezes out of these!"
"They like to invent joke products," Harry explained, when Kitty looked up at him. "They want to open a store and sell them." Fred's estimation of the kid went up a few notches when she smiled and clapped her hands. Obviously she recognized a good thing when she heard it.
"Cool! Wait'll I tell Dad!" Kitty said, before hesitating and tugging on Harry's hand. "How much longer will they be?"
Harry sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. Fred thought he looked slightly annoyed, but really couldn't blame him. The adults had been sequestered away for quite a little while now. His dad had emerged briefly to run an errand of some sort, but when he'd returned, he'd headed directly back to the parlor, not stopping to update them or answer any questions.
"What do you think they're doing in there?" George asked, seeming to divine Fred's thoughts.
"No idea," Fred replied. He paused a beat, then grinned. "Want to find out?"
Ron sighed, then addressed his brothers with some asperity. "What are you two on about? If you go in there, you'll just get tossed out."
Fred looked at Ron in the pitying way he knew the younger boy hated. "Aw, bless him," he said, addressing George.
"Pity," George agreed, patting Ron on the head. "Clearly he doesn't realize 'find out' means 'eavesdrop.'"
"Oh, really?" Hermione's tone spoke volumes. "And how might you accomplish that? Harry said Tom keeps muffling charms on the doors."
Fred lifted his head and grinned. "With a new product in our Weasley Wizard Wheezes line."
"They're actually quite brilliant," Ginny said, unexpectedly coming to the twins' defense when Hermione appeared ready to dismiss them out of hand.
"And how do you know of it?" Ron asked, rounding on his sister. Fred shook his head. The boy was never going to win friends and influence people with that attitude.
Ginny could take care of herself, though. "I asked," she replied pointedly. "You should try it sometime."
Fred rolled his eyes at his younger siblings' antics, but Ginny's endorsement seemed to have piqued Hermione's curiosity. He could almost hear her weighing the possible outcomes as she tried to decide whether to take the bait.
George waggled his eyebrows at her. "Come on, you know you want to," he teased outrageously. Hermione looked like she couldn't decide whether to be offended or not, then relented and smiled.
"All right, what's this latest invention then?" she asked in her best "this better be good" voice.
Fred traded a look with George, then both of them flashed their most charming smiles.
"Why it's only the most amazing--"
"Colossal--"
"Truly magnificent--"
"Piece of work--"
"Ever to grace the face of the planet!"
Fred paused dramatically, then dug into his pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Extendible Ear!"
Hermione raised a brow. "The what?"
Ron scowled. "They're barking, Hermione. You should know that by now."
Well aware of Ron's temperament, Fred gave him the pitying look again. "Stress," he pronounced, raising sympathetic eyes to George.
George nodded and hummed in agreement. "Sad, really."
"Perhaps he should invest in a Canary Creme."
Ron was less than amused. "Perhaps you two should just sod off," he said in a way that made Fred swear he was channeling Percy.
"So how does it work?" Hermione asked, before a row could get started. Fred traded an exasperated look with George. Hermione was a nice girl and a fellow Gryffindor, but she just didn't seem to understand the Weasley's favorite form of stress management.
On the other hand, how many opportunities did he get to discuss Wheezes with a willing and informed audience?
"It's very simple." Draping an arm over her shoulders, he flipped one end of the Ear towards the door. "You get that end near what you want to listen to, and put this end in your ear," he said, demonstrating. "Who wants to give it a go?"
Not surprisingly, Harry was first in line. He tossed the listening end toward the parlor door, then frowned. "I can't make out the words."
Fred made a little noise of agreement. "Tom casts a good charm."
"The best!" Harry agreed, before shrugging and offering the Ear back to Fred. "Oh, well."
Fred motioned for Harry to put the Ear back on. "If it isn't a full Silencing Spell, we aren't sunk. We just have to get closer."
"We'll have to work on controlling the sensitivity of these things," George said, twirling one of the Ears in a circle as he walked.
Fred nodded his agreement as they edged closer, testing the sound every few steps. Unfortunately for them, they couldn't clearly make out anything unless the listening end of the Ears were pressed against the parlor door.
When they were finally able to make out the conversation Fred winced and sneaked a glance at Harry. The voices inside were not happy ones.
"Mr. Wright, I don't believe you appreciate the gravity of the situation."
Ouch, Fred thought with a wince. Mum was speaking in her coldest most civil voice. Never a good sign.
"Oh, I understand perfectly. And you're right. Harry needs protection. All I'm saying is he needs to take at least partial ownership of that protection."
"Ownership? Rubbish! He's just a child!"
"Agreed. Potter isn't ready for that sort of responsibility."
Fred felt Harry stiffen and who could blame him, really? Professor Snape's voice was enough to set his teeth on edge. Fortunately the Calvary wasn't long in coming.
"How can you say that? Harry's done a wonderful job of looking after himself this summer!"
"That's a matter of opinion, Mrs. Wright. He's managed to keep himself alive, true, but he also withheld important information and disobeyed a direct summons from his headmaster."
"We've been over this, Snape. Harry says he didn't want to put anyone in danger, and I believe him, but the real crux of the problem seems to be his determination to stay away from his Muggle relatives. Based on previous experience, Harry thought he'd be returned to them if he came to us. If you look at it from that point of view, all Harry's perceived naughtiness was just a form of self protection."
"Don't be daft, Lupin."
"No, Professor Snape, I think Remus may have the right of it. The boy's really blossomed over the last few weeks. He seems much happier and more at ease than he was when he arrived."
"Thank you, Tom. Look, I know it sounds odd. Harry may not even realize it himself but it's true. Call it an accident, call it sheer dumb luck, but he found a place where he was valued and accepted. He's had a chance to heal and shore up his sense self worth. A chance, I daresay, he wouldn't have gotten at his aunt and uncle's house."
"You're making too much of it, Lupin. Besides, in my experience, self worth has never been a problem in the Potter family."
"All right, that's enough."
Fred and the others looked at each other when Janet Wright made her pronouncement, and a second later they heard chair legs scrape across the floor.
"I don't know who you think you are, or what your quarrel is with Harry, but if you believe even half of what you've said today, it's obvious you don't know him at all!"
"Mrs. Wright--"
"No, Headmaster, I'm not through. I think I know what part of the problem is. Most of you are accustomed to thinking of Harry as a baby, and that's just not true anymore."
"Jannie's right. I'll agree he's not grown yet, but he's way past the point in life where he needs his nose wiped for him. Besides, it's better to work with a person's temperament and for better or worse, Harry's a protector. He likes to act, not sit on the sidelines."
"Yes, and he's also old enough to have a say in what happens next. It's ridiculous of us to be sitting in here planning out his future without asking his input."
"I concur."
Fred felt himself nodding along with the Wrights and Professor Lupin, not realizing until a few seconds had passed that quick footsteps were headed toward the door. "Scatter!" he hissed, waving the others back as Mrs. Wright reached the door and yanked it open. That's it. We're caught, he thought, already imagining the fit his mother was going to throw. All she had to do was open the door a little wider and the lot of them would be visible to the parlor's occupants.
Mrs. Wright surprised him, though. Instead of sounding the alarm, she took everything in with a glance and finished her exit, barely hesitating as she did so. "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" she said, crossing her arms and raising a dark eyebrow at Harry. "Where's Becky?"
Fred reckoned the First Task she-dragons looked friendlier, but Harry didn't seem fussed. "She's sleeping, just over there," he replied, pointing. "I was afraid I'd wake her if I tried to move the cot."
Mrs. Wright looked in the indicated direction, then nodded and became all business again. "So how much did you hear?"
Fred blinked, thrown a little by the sudden change of topic. Harry seemed to be having the same difficulty. Unfortunately he tried to stall for time by using one of the hardest defenses to pull off--playing dumb. "Hear?"
Fred winced and resisted the urge to shake his head. Oh, Harry, Harry! We have to work on your delivery! Harry was able to keep a straight face, true, but speaking almost an octave above his normal tone was a dead giveaway.
Mrs. Wright, as expected, wasn't buying it. "Don't mess with me, Harry, I'm not in the mood. We've already frittered away the better part of an hour and at this rate Tom's going to have to reopen for dinner before we're done. There's no sense repeating what you already know, so I say again, how much did you hear?"
"Not a lot," Harry admitted, shuffling his feet. "Just since Mrs. Weasley told Steve he didn't understand the situation."
"Hmm. You held out longer than I thought you might," Mrs. Wright said, with a hint of a smile. "Becky?"
Harry looked sheepish, then nodded. "I just got her down a few minutes ago."
"I suspected as much." Mrs. Wright walked over to the cot and touched Becky's arm. "She seems a little cool now. Let's get her blanket."
"Oh, right. Sorry, I should have thought of that." Harry rummaged briefly in the bag, producing a small crocheted baby blanket and passing it to Mrs. Wright. "Here it is...hey! What's this?"
"What's what?" Mrs. Wright asked, unfolding the blanket and tucking it around Becky.
Curious, Fred turned to see what he was on about. Harry was still peering into the bag.
"Blimey, Janet, did the professors stretch the bag? I'd have sworn this thing was stuffed to capacity before we left and I know it wasn't there before."
"The professors gave me a handful of pamphlets, Harry. They're here in my purse. I haven't put anything in the diaper bag since we left the house."
"Strange...hang on...this has my name on it!" Harry exclaimed, drawing a fat folder out of the diaper bag. Fred was just about to ask what the heck a Census and Archive folder was doing in there, but was interrupted by Mrs. Wright's sharp intake of breath.
"Wait, Harry!" she snapped, making Harry jump and pause in the act of opening the folder. "The professors want to talk to you first. There's a few things you need to know."
"What? Why? What's going on?" Harry asked, turning the folder over in his hands. "Wait...is this the folder that--" He broke off in surprise when Dumbledore came up behind him and plucked the folder out of his hand.
"Mr. Malfoy mentioned. Why yes, it's the very same, Harry," the headmaster verified. "I thought we'd take a short break," he continued, as the rest of the parlor's occupants exited. "We shall call the meeting back to order when everyone has had a chance to stretch and Tom fetches some more of his excellent tea and biscuits." As if to prove his point, Dr. Granger exited, followed by Professors Snape, Sprout, and Penstone. Tom brought up the rear, empty biscuit plate in hand and an empty teapot and several used teacups floating in his wake. He headed for Fred and the other kids while the Professors and Dr. Granger walked toward Mrs. Wright.
"More juice and biscuits, kids?" Tom asked, levitating their near-empty juice flask and biscuit plate with a wave of his wand and adding them to the floating parade of dishes. Silly question, Fred thought. Especially when Ron's about. Confident that his baby brother would agree to a refill without any prompting, Fred aimed his Extendable Ear at the knot of adults off to his left.
"Professor Dumbledore's called a short break. We're not needed for the second part so we're heading back to Hogwarts," Professor Penstone said to Mrs. Wright. "Please feel free to owl any of us if you have any additional questions."
Mrs. Wright nodded and shook the proffered hand. "Thank you, Professor. I will." With that she bent down and grasped the cot, testing the weight, Fred reckoned. He was just about to lend a hand but Dr. Granger stopped her.
"I thought I'd come out and keep the children company while the others finish up. I'd be happy to watch your little ones as well, since Harry will be busy."
Mrs. Wright hesitated, clearly torn, but Dr. Granger just smiled. "It's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it dear?" she asked, a knowing sympathy in her eyes that Fred didn't really follow.
"Yes," Mrs. Wright agreed with a sigh. She seemed to make up her mind about her kids at least, because she gave Dr. Granger a little smile and pushed the cot closer to the wall instead. "Thank you. We'll try not to be long."
Dr. Granger laughed. "It's nothing, dear. Ring me up once everything's sorted here," she said, pressing a small card in Mrs. Wright's hand.
"Here we are," Tom announced to no one in particular, setting fresh juice and biscuits on the table Fred and the others had been sitting around while a pot of tea, and a second plate of biscuits bobbed along in his wake. "Shall we go back in Janet?"
Fred thought Mrs. Wright looked like she'd fancy a lie down at the moment, but she took a deep breath and nodded. "Sure. Let's see if we can get this settled," she said, motioning for Tom to precede her through the parlor door.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore began once everyone was settled again. "In a recent letter you mentioned a folder to me. You recall the letter, I trust?"
Harry frowned, thinking that went without saying, but he nodded and said, "Yes sir."
"Very good. For expediency's sake, please just hear me out and I shall endeavor to answer any questions you have. Are you familiar with an office in the Ministry of Magic called the Census Library and Archive?"
"No, sir."
"Every magical citizen has a folder assigned to them. The folders house all matters of public record. As you can see, yours contains copies of all the news articles that have been written about you over the years. It also contains more mundane items like your school records and contact information. The Census Library and Archive is where those folders are created, stored and managed," Dumbledore explained in his matter-of-fact way. Harry felt his irritation slip a jot as the old wizard's tale unfolded. One thing he'd always liked about Dumbledore was his ability to answer questions without making the asker feel stupid.
"The night your parents died, several precautions were taken to ensure your safety. One of them was spelling your folder to watch over you, and alarm if you were ever in any physical danger. That part obviously failed, yes," he said, holding up a hand when Harry frowned and started to speak. "For that you have my most heartfelt apologies, cold comfort though they may be. We can discuss that presently, but what concerns us now is a contingency mechanism that was designed to activate if anything ever happened to your guardians. You mentioned having trouble getting owls lately. That's because currently you're all but invisible to tracking magic. Practically unplottable. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall have been researching the situation and they believe this new protection is the folder's doing."
"The folder? But why?" Harry asked, wishing he didn't sound quite so lost and bewildered.
"We aren't completely sure. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall have been studying the matter and formulating theories. They suspect your folder is acting in this manner because the precautions were...'set'...when you were incapable of looking after yourself. As far as it is concerned, a guardian is mandatory. Your folder may simply be hiding you until a new guardian can be selected, or..."
"Or?" Harry demanded, not bothering to hide his exasperation as he glanced between the three Hogwarts professors. "What does it mean, Professor?"
Professor Flitwick sighed. "It means, Mr. Potter, that the folder may have already made its choice regarding your guardianship. As I'm sure you recall, your friends the Wrights are having difficulty receiving owls as well. Considering who you've had the most contact with this summer, Tom and Mr. and Mrs. Wright are the most likely candidates for selection. The fact that Tom can still freely receive owls while the Wrights cannot seems to imply they were indeed chosen."
"What?" Whatever Harry had been expecting it hadn't been that! The Wrights as his guardians? No! Impossible! It was far too large a risk for them to take! Besides which, wasn't it his being unceremoniously dumped on their doorstep that made the Dursleys hate him so? Even if the Wrights agreed to this nonsense, how long would it be before they began to resent him?
"We spoke to Tom and Mr. and Mrs. Wright earlier and they seem willing. Of course the folder may simply sense your fondness for the family and is extending the protection on your behalf," Professor Flitwick offered, seeming a little distressed at Harry's reaction. "The folder's decision can be overridden, of course, but doing so would almost certainly destroy the magical protection you're both currently under. The headmaster would like to avoid that if possible. What has accidentally been created here is the strength of the Fidellius without the liability of a Secret Keeper."
Feeling as though his world was unravelling, Harry shook his head, jumping when a wet nose nudged its way under his hand. "I...I really don't know what to say," he admitted, sinking both hands into Padfoot's thick fur. "How do we find out?"
"If our suspicions are correct, you simply open the folder and read the first page," Professor Dumbledore said. "Your folder is sealed," he continued, demonstrating his own inability to open it before passing it to Harry, "but as owner you should have full access. I merely wanted to prepare you for what you might see."
Harry nodded, accepting the folder with strangely nerveless fingers. It looked so commonplace, it was hard to believe this was the mysterious "folder" that was causing all the fuss. Swallowing to ease a throat gone suddenly dry, Harry found himself thinking of his trip to Privet Drive. The thought of opening the folder was causing approximately the same level of distress that looking in the living room window had.
In the end he dealt with it in the same manner--do it quickly and get it over with. He sat with one hand on the cover until he couldn't bear the suspense any longer, then flipped the folder open and began to scan the first page.
First was his full name and birthdate...
Harry James Potter b. July 31, 1980.
Then came a list of where he'd lived, when and with whom...
Godric Hollow - James Potter and Lily Potter - 07/31/1980 - 10/31/1981
Hogwarts Hospital Wing - To Be Determined (Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore) - 11/01/1981 - 11/03/1981
Little Whinging -Petunia Dursley (Vernon Dursley) - 11/04/1981 - 07/01/1995
Leaky Cauldron - To Be Determined (Tom Dodderidge) - 07/02/1995 - 07/25/1995
London - Janet Wright (Stephen Wright) primary and Tom Dodderidge secondary - 07/25/1995 -
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry jumped at Dumbledore's gentle prompt, then realized he'd been staring like an idiot. "Janet and Tom," he said, then cleared his throat and tried again. "It says Janet and Tom! And Steve. Janet is primary, Tom is secondary."
"Indeed?" Professor Dumbledore exchanged a look with Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. "It seems the folder wishes to preserve the status quo."
Taken by surprise, Harry blinked then glanced between the three Hogwarts professors. "Sorry, did you say the folder wants?"
"Your folder was missing," Janet informed him, a knowing sympathy in her dark eyes. "Until you spotted it in the diaper bag a few minutes ago no one could find it. Everyone was just guessing."
Across the room Professor Flitwick nodded. "Fantastic as it may sound, I believe the folder may have achieved a rudimentary intelligence. I don't believe the way it hid or revealed itself was mere coincidence, and it does appear to be looking out for your best interests."
"Oh." Suddenly and ridiculously reminded of Dobby the House Elf, Harry shook his head and battled down a mad urge to laugh. Part of him rankled at the idea of having a guardian at all, seesawing between I don't need a bloody babysitter! and They can't possibly accept! It's too dangerous! Another part didn't mind so much--even allowed that if he had to have a guardian, Steve, Janet, and Tom were loads better than the Dursleys, some random stranger, or one of the stuck-up "pureblood" families. A third part scoffed derisively at the idea Janet, Steve, and Tom would agree to look after the likes of him, and a fourth part, the one crying the loudest, was despairing because he'd never be able to live with his godfather.
All and all he wished he could just go back to bed and start the day over.
"Enough of this, Albus. You can't possibly force him back into the Muggle World. Look at him, he's overwrought!"
What? Harry blinked in surprise as he processed Mrs. Weasley's statement, glancing to his left where Ron's parents were seated.
"Molly, be still," Mr. Weasley hissed. Mrs. Weasley gave him a dirty look before turning and addressing Harry directly.
"Harry, dear, repairs on the Burrow are coming along nicely, and the warding can be modified to include Muggle attacks."
"That is true, Harry." Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses and peered down the length of the table at Harry. "But consider, the Burrow's warding only offers protection while you are in the house or on the property. The folder's protection has no such limitation, and it protects your friends as well."
"Hold on, Professor. No fair laying guilt trips."
When Harry turned to him in surprise, Steve addressed him directly. "Don't accept the folder's decision because you're worried about us, or are afraid of hurting our feelings, Harry. We have lines of retreat available to us, and if things really go stupid we can always return to the States."
Tom nodded his agreement, while Janet smiled reached over and gave his arm a little squeeze. "We'll help any way we can, but you have to think of yourself now, Sweetie. What do you want? What's right for you?"
What do I want? What I can't have, of course. Harry sighed, looking at his godfather with his heart in his eyes. Sirius whined, sounding as miserable as Harry felt and laid his head on Harry's knee. "Me too," Harry said, scratching the big dog's ears before looking at Dumbledore. "Please, sir, I always thought...isn't there any way I could...you know..." Harry stumbled to a stop, not knowing how much was safe to say about Sirius in present company, but his headmaster understood. Harry felt his last hope dissolve as Professor Dumbledore sighed, seeming to age before his eyes.
"I wish it was possible dear boy, but alas, it is not. Although Remus would undoubtably take you in, current laws prohibit it. I can petition the Board of Governors to allow you shelter at Hogwarts, but that is dependent on their decision, and the protection shares the same limitations as the Burrow."
Harry nodded. "I understand."
"Perhaps you'd like some time to think things over, lad," Tom suggested, clearly trying to ease the tension. "Unless I'm mistaken, the decision doesn't have to be made this instant."
"This isn't just my decision, you know." Harry looked at the Weasleys, then Tom, then Steve and Janet. "You don't have to do this, any of you. In fact, if it means you'll hate me later I wish you wouldn't. What if I screw up?"
He thought he was being perfectly serious, and was a bit annoyed when Janet chuckled. "That's called 'life,' Harry. You're going to screw up, I guarantee it. So will Steve. So will the girls. So will I. Do you think I know the first thing about teen-aged boys?"
"She's right, kid. It's impossible to live with other people without ever stepping on each others' toes. All you can do is apologize, learn, and try to do better in the future."
"But why? Why are you willing to do this?" Harry shook his head and closed his stinging eyes. "Why are you even considering it?" He waited, not sure if anyone would respond--not sure if he wanted anyone to respond--especially when he heard Janet make an exasperated sounding noise beside him.
"What kind of question is that?" Harry opened his eyes in surprise when gentle fingers touched his chin, but complied with the tacit request to turn his head. When Janet saw she had his attention she let go of his chin and took his hand instead. "Because you're my friend, you big goof, and I care about you and I want you safe and protected. I thought that went without saying."
Further down, Tom cleared his throat. When Harry looked him in the eye, the old innkeeper smiled one of his toothless smiles. "The same goes for me, lad. Oh, I admit in the beginning I thought I was extending some harmless charity and wasn't sure how much help you'd really be, but I think your successes speak for themselves. I also meant what I told you the day we met Janet, here. Anyone with sense would be proud to claim you. If certain people are too thick to see what was right before their eyes, that's their lookout, not yours."
Harry shrugged then looked down, unable to hold Tom's gaze. You've only really known me a few weeks. They knew me my whole life. He studied his hands for a minute, then looked up when he heard Mr. Weasley call his name.
Mrs. Weasley's tearful expression caught his attention, but it was Mr. Weasley's steady gaze that truly put Harry on his guard. The last time he'd seen that expression, Mr. Weasley had warned him about the escaped murderer, Sirius Black.
He watched as Mr. Weasley came over to him and squatted by his chair, squirming inside when the older wizard began to speak. "Harry, Molly and I consider you one of our own, and you're always welcome at the Burrow no matter what."
Harry pursed his lips and looked at Mr. Weasley with some trepidation. He had been in enough conversations with Professor Dumbledore to know a qualifier was coming. "But?"
Mr. Weasley sighed and gave him a sad sort of smile. "But, as always, things aren't that easily sorted. Molly, Professor Dumbledore, and I had a chat a bit ago. Circumstances being what they are, and since Tom and Mr. and Mrs. Wright seem to have no objections, I think they might be the best choice for you at this time. Do you understand, Harry?"
Harry nodded stiffly. Until now he'd thought himself immune to rejection. It really was amazing how much more it hurt when it came from someone he considered almost family. The inside of his nose began to sting along with his eyes, and this time he couldn't keep his voice devoid of emotion. "I understand, Mr. Weasley. I'm a threat to those around me, and too dangerous to have around full time without this new protection."
Mr. Weasley blinked like Harry had struck him, then quickly shook his head. "No, son, that's not it at all. The folder may have the more flexible magic, but the warding on the Burrow is more than adequate. If that was the only issue, I'd invite you to make your choice with a clear conscience." He ran a hand over his thinning red hair, then looked Harry in the eye again. "Forgive me, I started poorly. Let's back up a bit, shall we?" he offered, plunging ahead when Harry shrugged.
"I ran into Percy earlier at the Ministry of Magic. The short version is, we had words a few days ago and apparently his conscience started to bother him. He went to Surrey to check on you, and now the Minister knows an edited version of your circumstances."
Oh, God... Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? Aloud he asked, "What does that mean? Has he already told the Daily Prophet my aunt and uncle ran off?"
"No, and if we play this right, he won't get a chance to. Minister Fudge isn't clear on all the details. All he knows is your uncle accepted a new position and moved out of the country," Mr. Weasley replied. "He thinks the transfer of your guardianship was simply mismanaged. The bad news is, we believe he plans to appoint a new guardian for you himself."
Harry stiffened, eyes wide and alert. "Can he do that?" he asked, fearing the answer was 'yes'. The parlor grew quiet when Professor Dumbledore replied.
"Child placement has traditionally been a rather simplistic area of Wizard Law, Mr. Potter. The preferred method, even today, is to place the child in question with his or her nearest blood relative. That is, in part, how you came to live with your aunt and uncle fourteen years ago. However, when Grindelwald and later Voldemort rose to power, the Ministry found itself having to place children whose families had been decimated. Some had no living blood relatives to turn to, so the Curator Tribuo statute was passed. If a Wizard family is willing, Curator Tribuo allows the Minister of Magic to simply transfer the guardianship of an underage minor to the volunteer family, provided the family is able to properly care for the child. The families can come forward of their own accord or they may be approached by the Ministry, but the purpose of the law is to keep magical children in the Wizarding World. The Ministry doesn't sponsor an orphanage, you see, so displaced minors have nowhere to go but Muggle institutions."
Harry digested this in silence while Professor Dumbledore paused to sip his tea. "But sir, my aunt and uncle aren't dead."
Sirius growled deep in his throat, "Not yet, anyway," clear in his tone and body language. Dumbledore sent him a reproving look before taking up his story again.
"You're quite right of course, dear boy. Technically, Minister Fudge should contact your aunt and uncle and determine what their wishes were concerning you, but according to Mr. Percy Weasley, he may be planning to use the Curator Absentis clause. This clause allows the minister to step in if the guardians are alive but unavailable. Its intent was to cover situations where guardians were alive but not physically or mentally able to care for a dependent. Unfortunately it does not expressly say so, and 'Alive but unavailable' could be made to apply in your case since your relatives are unharmed, but out of the country."
Beside Harry, Mr. Weasley nodded. "Yes, and unless you want to join them in Australia or admit they abandoned you and press charges we'd be fools to contest it."
Press charges? Harry frowned thoughtfully then shuddered, imagining the media circus that would ensue. The Daily Prophet would probably take and change sides with impunity, like it had during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and a trial could potentially drag on for months and dive into issues far beyond the Dursleys running to Australia. "I'd rather not press charges, if it's all the same to you, sir."
Sirius growled again, sounding decidedly sulky, but Dumbledore seemed to sense Harry's desire to take one thing at a time. "As you wish, Mr. Potter," he said, in a tone that did not invite discussion. Harry turned toward Mr. Weasley when he took up his story again.
"Anyway, Harry, as I should have made clear, if I'm reading what Percy told me correctly, the Minister intends to declare you a ward of the Ministry, then prevail upon one or more of the prominent Pureblood families to take over your guardianship. What Professor Dumbledore and I find so worrying is Cornelius Fudge is very close to Lucius Malfoy."
Harry felt his mouth sag open in abject disbelief. "Malfoy?" he croaked when he'd recovered enough to speak. Oh, great. Wonderful. I might as well truss myself up, stuff an apple in my mouth, and present myself to old Voldemort on a silver platter! Mr. Weasley sighed, looking uncomfortable.
"It isn't completely inevitable. You could be assigned to another Pureblood family, but because of our relatively small population child placement cases are taken very seriously. And as much as I hate to say it, it's hard to top the Malfoys on paper. They have wealth, property, good social standing, a son your age..." Mr. Weasley spread his hands, then grimaced, got back to his feet and began to pace.
"We didn't bring this up before, because with your relatives out of the country and your Census Folder gone missing a court battle seemed unavoidable. The only plan we could come up with, and a far more risky plan than we'd like by the way, was to have every Pureblood member of the Order of the Phoenix petition the court in hopes that one of us would be awarded custody. Now, there's another option."
"Yes..." Harry watched as Dumbledore turned and regarded the Wrights, his blue eyes uncharacteristically grave. "We knew you were very likely candidates, based on the mechanics of the enchantments we've observed so far. That and the fact you can't receive owls. We didn't know for certain you'd been selected until just now, but I was hoping having all the parties together might encourage the folder to resurface for signatures. Your acceptance of the its decision is clearly the best option for Harry under the circumstances. If a guardian is already established, Minister Fudge's options will be more limited. We might even be able to convince him that this was what Mr. Potter's relatives intended and they simply made an error when trying to make their wishes known. The question now is, are you, Mrs. Wright and Tom amenable to the idea?"
Janet glanced at Steve and shrugged after receiving his small nod of permission. "I said I'd be willing to take him in, Professor, even before the issue of protective magic came up. Tom did too, as I recall," she said, glancing at the old innkeeper for confirmation. "I still have concerns, though. Steve and I can handle purely physical dangers, but magic?" She shook her head and lightly touched the folder. "Since that seems to be the number one concern here, I can't understand why it named Steve and me primary guardians instead of a fully trained witch or wizard."
"I think I might have a theory on that," Mr. Weasley ventured, a few seconds later. "The choosing, I mean," he clarified when Harry and the others looked curiously in his direction. He paused a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. "I think the Wrights may have been chosen because they've only known Harry a few weeks."
"What?" Harry wasn't sure how to take that. Beside him, Janet covered his hand with her own.
"Let's hear what he has to say."
Harry nodded, absently turning his hand so he could grip hers properly--something that never would have occurred to him before. Distantly, he wondered if his brief stay with the Wrights had spoiled him beyond all hope. Steve and Janet had tended his needs in a Muggle and very tactile way which was in direct contrast to the healthcare charms and brisk professionalism Madam Pomfrey favored in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and his aunt's refusal to deal with him any more than absolutely necessary. After a lifetime of telling himself it didn't matter if his aunt and uncle couldn't bear to be near him, it was a bit off-putting how much little touches suddenly meant.
"My point is, they may have a clearer vision of Harry than others do. They weren't here when You Know Who's power was broken and the legend of the Boy Who Lived began, so they see him as the teenaged boy he is--no grand expectations or preconceived notions."
"Oh I don't know about that, Mr. Weasley," Steve put in when the wizard paused. "I have a few expectations and preconceived notions about teenaged boys--having been one once, you understand." Harry shot Steve a grateful look, appreciating his attempt to bring the tension down a notch. For a second it seemed to work, then Mr. Weasley became all business again.
"I was here in the Leaky Cauldron last Sunday when you and Mrs. Wright brought Harry in and that idiot news team caught sight of him. Ir reminded me of a similar situation summer of '92. Harry was grabbed and photographed without so much as a by your leave, and all the witches and wizards present, including Molly and myself, just stood there like it was perfectly acceptable behavior."
"I think you're being a little hard on yourself, Mr. Weasley," Janet, said when Ron's father looked down in shame. "If your incident happened as quickly and unexpectedly as ours did, you were probably just shocked by their audacity. I know I was. I snapped out of it when it looked like Harry and Becky might fall, but at first..." She trailed off and shrugged, then looked up at Harry. "Does that kind of thing happen every time you go out?" Harry shook his head.
"It happens sometimes, but not as much as you might think. I try to keep an eye out for reporters and I learned to stay back and blend in a long time ago. That's why this works for the most part," Harry said, indicating his eyes and headband. "All I am to most people is hair, eyes, and scar." He jumped a little when Janet squeezed his hand, having forgotten she was still holding it.
"Most people don't know what they're missing, Harry, and I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe me. However," she stopped and looked at her watch. "Since Tom has to reopen soon, I think we need to get back on track here. Knowing that there are still some particulars we have to work out--like your dog there--what's his name, anyway? I can't keep calling him 'dog.'"
Wait, my dog? Harry wondered, even as he replied, "Snuffles."
"You can't separate a boy and his dog, Jannie," Steve put in. "It's Unconstitutional."
"I can't promise anything yet--I don't even know if our lease allows pets. We'll deal with the details later, but we have to get this guardian matter settled now--right now!"
"Janet?" Harry asked, glancing at Steve to see if the older man had any idea what was going on. Out of nowhere, Janet's tension had ratcheted up about seventeen levels, her breathing had quickened and a light sheen of persperation had formed on her forehead. "Janet, please! What is it?"
Shaking her head, Janet made a grab for his folder and flipped it open. Two new pieces of parchment were inside: a transfer of guardianship form, by appearances between Petunia Dursley and Janet Wright, and a petition for guardianship made on behalf of Lucius Malfoy by Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic a few days ago. Harry swallowed when he saw "Pending" stamped across the petition. "They're coming here. Now." Swallowing, she looked up at Dumbledore. "How does this work?"
"We will need your signature here," he replied, pointing. "Tom and your husband are ancillary. Only the primary needs to sign."
"You'll need a pen," Steve said, fruitlessly patting at his shirt pockets. "I'll fetch a quill," Tom offered, but Janet stopped him when the folder produced a long, thin, black quill.
"Never mind, Tom. It wants me to use this." Harry's first warning was his headmaster's gasp of shock and shout of warning, but it was too late. Janet was already signing the transfer form. "What is it, Professor?" he asked, interrupting himself with a startled breath when a sudden sharp pain in his hand distracted him. Bloody hell! Harry thought, watching in horror as letters began appearing in the reddened skin as though cut by a scalpel, then healing over leaving only the redness behind: Janet Marie Anderson Wright...
"What the hell just happened?" Steve demanded. Harry looked up and noticed for the first time that Steve, Janet, and Tom all had the same...injury he did.
"Blood magic," Professor Dumbledore replied gravely, "and if I'm not mistaken, accidental magic as well." He flicked his wand at the teapot and was soon pressing a steaming cup of strong, sweet tea into Janet's shaking hands. "Do you still have the sense of urgency, my dear?"
"Not so much now." Janet eyed the quill with distaste and put it back in the folder. "They're still on their way here, but it feels different. We...we should be okay now." The folder rustled one last time, producing a copy of the transfer form for Janet, before shutting itself and disappearing with a pop. Harry stared at the empty space where it had been in dismay.
"Oh, smashing! Now where's it gone?"
"Back to the Library, perhaps?" Professor Flitwick speculated hopefully. Mr. Weasley rose from his seat.
"I'll check. I promised Percy I'd come back in a bit anyway," he offered, exiting the parlor and heading for the dining room fireplace.
"Excuse, me?" Harry looked up and saw a worried-looking Hermione standing in the parlor doorway. "Minister Fudge and Mr. Malfoy are outside and they want to see Professor Dumbledore," she announced without preamble. "Mum tried to tell them you were in a meeting, but they're quite insistent, especially since the Leaky Cauldron is due to reopen soon."
"Tell him we have ten more minutes, and we need them to wrap up," Steve said, checking his watch. "Harry, run up to your room, ditch the headband and contacts, then join the other kids in the dining room. Quick now. We have to make this look natural."
Harry made quick work of shedding his disguise and was back in the dining room well before his ten minute time limit.
Unfortunately it looked like the minister and Mr. Malfoy hadn't wanted to wait. "What is the meaning of this?" the minister was demanding. "I had this petition for guardianship drawn up just a few days ago! How could it be invalid?"
Bother, Harry thought as he made his way over to his friends' table and slipped into a chair between Ron and Hermione. I hate it when the conversation's already started. He did a quick inventory, then frowned. Sirius and the Wrights were nowhere in sight.
"Professor Dumbledore asked Snuffles and the Wrights to wait in the parlor," Hermione whispered. "Oh, and Mr. Wright came out while you were changing," she said, slipping him a folded piece of paper.
Curious, Harry unfolded it and discovered a hastily scribbled note.
The headmaster is supposed to do all the talking but if you are approached:
You are visiting your friends, we are at home.
Your uncle knows Janet through work. He knows she accepted a transfer and vice versa.
They arranged to transfer your guardianship to us, but communicated through e-mail and Muggle post because your aunt won't use owls.
We were supposed to arrive before they left, but things fell apart when your uncle's timetable was moved up. We just managed to get back in touch.
Your aunt just told us to contact Professor Dumbledore for help getting things straightened out.
If the failsafe comes up, it was triggered by the paperwork delay.
"It was a simple misunderstanding, Cornelius," Professor Dumbledore said in his most reasonable voice. "Unfortunately, Mr. Potter's aunt and uncle are uncomfortable with Owl Post and international Muggle post is notoriously slow. At first glance it appeared that they had simply left the boy behind, but I have a copy of the notarized transfer form right here. I'm sure Mr. Potter appreciates your interest in his welfare as much as I do, but his aunt's wishes are quite clear. I must have forgotten to sign the check out log in my eagerness to correct the mistake, but all the necessary papers have been filed, and Mr. Potters folder is back in the Archive where it belongs."
"It's high time Potter took his place in Wizard society," Fudge objected, shaking his head. "Sending him back to the Muggle world will not help him do that. Lucius could groom him, like he does his own son. In this case, though it pains me, I might have to override the transfer."
"Alas, the aunt insisted on the use of a Blood Quill," Dumbledore said, indicating Janet's signature. "The transfer is quite unbreakable."
If Harry hadn't been looking directly at Mr. Malfoy when it happened, he might have missed the flash of loathing in his eyes before he resumed his usual bland superiority. "Well, that's that, I suppose, Cornelius. I'm only too happy to help and if you need me in the future you need only ask, but it looks like we're wasting time here." With that, he swept out the doorway leading into Diagon Alley. Minister Fudge stayed only a few seconds longer before following suit. Harry sat very still after the bells stopped jingling and released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
It was only then the enormity of the situation hit him. Yes, he'd dodged having Malfoy as a guardian, but in the process he'd managed to make his new friends targets. On top of that, he was probably looking at a whole new relationship dynamic. Harry knotted his fingers in his lap and hoped he'd done the right thing.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, aware that his two best friends were looking at him very seriously.
"I'm okay. A little knackered maybe, but nothing bad." He paused to smile at both of them, then the table at large. "I've missed you this summer, and I have loads to tell you," he said, then turned to smile at Hermione. "I'll even share what I learned about child minding if you like."
"Oh, now there's a stimulating topic," Fred said, elbowing George. "I think I'd like to hear that one."
"It's not for the faint of heart," Harry informed them. "I found myself wondering how your mum ever managed with you lot. Hey!" he greeted when Janet walked over.
"Hey, Sweetie. We're going back to the house. I need to give Becky the last of her medicine, and I know you want to catch up with your friends. Professor Dumbledore said we'd reconvene tomorrow same time, same place to get the details finalized." She paused, and gave him a quick once over. "You look tired."
Harry shrugged. "I am a bit."
"Well, don't overdo it. Tom's here and I'm right down the street if you need anything. Oh, hey!" She looked at her watch. "Cool! It's late enough," she said, opening the purse hanging from her shoulder and rummaging briefly until she found her cell phone.
Harry frowned. "Late enough?" he asked, as Steve and Kitty ambled over, pushing a still drowsing Becky in her stroller.
"Yeah. Once we're outside and I can get a signal I want to call my mom," Janet explained, turning a teasing grin on Harry. "Have to tell her about the new baby, don't I? Don't worry, I'll keep it short," she said when Steve crossed his arms and gave her a mock-severe look.
"You better. You know I'll have to call my mom, too."
"Oh, you're just mad 'cause you didn't think of it first," Janet replied with an airy wave of dimissal.
"Yeah, well, luckily we're in England so they won't be able to kill us. Next visit all bets are off."
"Oh! Professor!" Harry looked and saw his headmaster had come up behind her. "Is there something wrong?" she asked, noting his troubled expression.
"Perhaps you should consider keeping your new guardianship close, Mrs. Wright."
Janet frowned in confusion. "Close? What are you saying? You want me to not tell my family and friends?"
Dumbledore looked a little pained, but nodded. "It might be the wiser course, I am sad to say."
"It might be easier, you mean?" Janet smiled and shook her head. "You're probably right, Professor, but that's not the way it works. No one forced me to invite Harry into my life. If it will ease your mind I'll postpone my call, and we can discuss what's safe to reveal to whom when we meet tomorrow, but I'm not going to treat him as an outsider or pretend he doesn't exist. It's not fair to him or to us."
Harry watched in shock as his headmaster nodded solemnly, then gave her a rather sheepish smile. "Forgive me. It is sometimes...difficult...to see what is right and what is easy. You are right of course, and I shall depend on your good judgement."
"Thank you, Professor. We'll see you tomorrow, and don't worry. Things will work out. Harry will just have to be patient with us, that's all," she said with a grin, turning to give the now thoroughally gobsmacked Harry a hug. "Bye sweetie. We'll see you later or in the morning. Bye, kids."
"Sweetie?" Ron asked, once all the Wrights said their goodbyes and had vanished through the London door.
Harry sighed. Oh, boy, here it comes, he thought, waiting for Ron and his brothers to take the mickey, but Ron surprised him.
"Blimey, Harry, it's almost like you have a proper mother now." Across the table the twins nodded solemnly.
"You're going to have to toe the line now, mate," George informed him.
Fred nodded gravely. "No more fun for you...unless you want to take the consequenses of course."
George hummed in agreement. "I don't know if I'd chance it, though." Fred, nodded, then broke into a big grin as Harry picked up his pumpkin juice.
"Yeah, she could do some damage with that bag of hers," he teased, making Harry choke on the juice, and sending the table into hysterics.
"Better have a care mate," Ron said, as he pounded Harry on the back. "'Course it's not all bad. Mums can be dead useful. Dad's too. Little sisters on the other hand...rotten luck there--Oi!" he yelped when Ginny and Hermione shoved him in the shoulders.
"Serves you right, Ronald," Hermione said, exchanging a smile with Ginny. "Don't listen to them Harry. Like Mrs. Wright said, things will work out."
"Yeah," Harry acknowledged, actually beginning to believe it. "I think you may be right, Hermione."