JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, the star of the show. She is the creator of the world I write in.

FASA owns Earthdawn, who I borrow many ideas from

I plan to focus on the next three chapters in this story before going back to Casting Shadows. My goal is to wrap up through Sirius' trial before giving any attention to my other story. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

So, a quick recap of the last chapter.

Sirius Black is awaiting a trial in Britain, but he was cleared by an ICW hearing and now Britain is taking heat internationally for their treatment of him. Sirius Black has activated magical clauses in a number of contracts Arcturus created to impact the funds of the Deatheater families, impacting their ability to support Voldemort. Wars aren't cheap, and now there's a lot less money.

Fudge is trying to weasel out of any personal lawsuits and is using the trial as a leverage point while also publicly siding with Sirius on his mistreatment. To this end, he has delayed the trial until early October. Amelia Bones has made public her interrogation of Peter Pettigrew and it is now clear that all Marked Deatheaters willingly took the Mark and are guilty as sin. Sadly, they cannot be re-tried in court, but they have definitely been found guilty in public opinion. Fortunately for Fudge, it was the previous administration that cleared them. Fudge has been shrewd enough to distance himself from the families he used to consort with.

Harry finally recovered the 'Horcrux' containing his father's incarnation and was able to absorb James' incarnation into himself. In the process, he recovered and bonded with the Everliving Flower that is somehow connected to Oakheart. These key points are allowing his magic to slowly re-integrate itself.

A week before finding the Horcrux on August 13, Harry had a birthday party at the Weasley's. He turned 15 years old and had a poor encounter with Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. This is where we pick up.

I highly recommend going back and re-reading the sections with Albus' point of view in Chapters 15, 16, and 18. It gives good insight in some of his decisions. Albus' biggest fault is in his massive hubris and secretive nature. He really does want to help Harry, but his actions and attempts frequently backfire on him. And yes, he does have a temper, just like most people. Harry is very good at pushing his buttons and getting him worked up. I imagine he frequently wishes he could go back and repeat most of his interractions.

Dance of Death—

Chapter 22 – Road to Recovery

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster's Quarters

Monday, August 7 1995

For the hundredth time this year, Dumbledore wondered why he just couldn't catch a break where Harry Potter was concerned. Wishing for something to lift his spirits, Albus looked over at Fawkes' stand. The phoenix was out and about today. No phoenix would ever be content to stay in one place for long, but Albus wished he was here now. He could use the uplifting encouragement that only Fawkes could give. Perhaps he would be back in a day or three. Or next month. One never knew with Fawkes. Sometimes, Albus wondered which of them was really in charge.

Back to the task at hand, he reflected on the poor outcome of Harry's birthday party. He thought he could repair some of his mistakes in the past by giving Harry the watch his parents had enchanted for him. It was a marvel of workmanship and would bring him years of joy. The fact that he would be able to hear his parent's voices made it truly special. Albus had hoped it would help bridge the divide between the two of them.

Then, Amelia ruined it. He never should have allowed the woman to accompany him. She had been so desperate to help Harry, he thought she would help. Especially given the way she had gone after the Deatheaters following Peter Pettigrew's interrogation. She was supposed to merely invite Harry to stay at her manor. That was the plan… it's what she told him she wanted to do. But the punitive clauses in the alliance contract were weighing on her. And much of this was his own fault. He had facilitated the ending of the alliance with trickery. Yes, he had advised against it, but in the end he allowed it. As Harry's guardian, he failed them all. Of course, if he had known it was a Tier One alliance, he would have proceeded far differently. Mistakes all around.

Harry had so much raw magic power that he could donate enough of it to reinstate the alliance and still have sufficient magic left over to function as a normal wizard. Not a powerful one, but very functional. He would be… about average. On par with Ronald Weasley, by rough estimates. Assuming his magical core ever healed, which was very unlikely. Still, if the coming war went poorly, Harry would need a safe haven. Bones manor would have been perfect.

He had planned to discuss all this with Harry privately, but that was off the table now. Amelia was devastated and now their relationship was in ruins. Both with the Bones family and with him. All these years spent protecting the boy, and now… Yes, he had made mistakes, but who doesn't? The Horcrux had been the source of so much pain and so many of the decisions Albus had made. Now it was gone, but the damage was done. The boy's magical pattern was shredded, Harry trusted only a half dozen or so people, and hated the rest. How could he ever be happy with so much distrust and hatred? If he could see it in his heart to simply forgive his peers, he would be welcomed back and the healing could begin.

To that end, Albus had spent a great deal of time designing a wandless curriculum for Harry. It took quite a bit of work and schedule changes to make it possible, but it was a good plan. Severus had protested, but Minerva, Fillius, and Pomona were all on board. The poor boy was scarred from the abuses he had suffered. And so many of those he had clashed with were scarred as well. Based on what he had observed and what the heads of house had shared, many students were deeply ashamed of their own actions. They had no way of knowing a Horcrux was affecting them. And they could never be told. If Harry could just spend time with his classmates, he would see how sorry they were…

Arthur had convinced him to give it up. He had pointed out how forcing Harry to return may have been a bad idea. To bring him back and surround him with students able to use magic… while he was, for all intents and purposes, a squib… it wouldn't be healthy for him. Still, Harry needed help.

But how to get Harry help? The boy had so much potential… He showed them all how kind and selfless he was when he divided up the Basilisk funds. He even used it to pay for Miss Weasley's…

A smile began to form on Albus' face. Young Harry would thank him one day. Not today. Not tomorrow… but one day.

Albus Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling away.

Dance of Death—

Diagon Alley

Friday, August 17 1995

Harry took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He focused on the small waterfall fountain that was running on the side table. He knew he should be angrier about this, but the venomous and sometimes violent anger just wasn't there. Honestly, since the graveyard, he had yet to explode into any of his trademark outbursts. Oh, he could fake it good enough, but the crazy temper just wasn't there anymore. Being here now was just another manipulative tactic from Dumbledore.

The woman sitting in front of him was in her late-thirties to early forties and had a casual demeanor about her. She was wearing a comfortable outfit of blue jeans and simple blouse. She had light brown hair and was a little overweight. She seemed very normal. Harry was now stuck with her for an hour and a half, twice a week, with no say in the matter. She probably knew it, too. First, Dumbledore made this a requirement for Home Studies. Then Ginny got all excited and went overboard with the affection. Stuck. No way out. The window maybe? Could he use that avenue? The thought brought a smile to his face. The woman in front of him noticed his expression and smiled as well.

"It's nice to see you smile, Harry. I was beginning to think this was going to be another grim and angst ridden session."

Doctor Gaines had a good sense of humor. She was a squib who specialized in child psychology and Psychotherapy* focusing on trauma recovery. She had done wonders for Ginny after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, but Harry really just didn't see the point for him. Still, Ginny was so happy with him… And after he had praised her courage when she started… He was stuck. Dumbledore signed off on home schooling as long as Harry had regular sessions with a therapist. Bill was nice about it, but he agreed with Dumbledore. Uncle Vernon hymned and hawed, but admitted that he thought it was a good idea. Especially considering that the therapist went to a muggle university. Even Sirius refused to bail him out from Switzerland. Surely he could have done something. Used his family lawyers, maybe? Nope. Instead, he picked up the tab. Damn traitor.

This was their second meeting and the first had been unbelievably awkward. Harry accused her of being a spy for either Dumbledore or the Deatheaters. The little fountain actually froze over when he had an unexpected burst of magic. Small bouts of accidental magic had been happening from time to time. Nothing over the top, just small effects.

"I'm glad you were able to fix the fountain. I thought maybe I broke it." The fountain was calming. Of course, that's probably what it was intended for.

"Well, Harry, I actually have spares. The one that 'froze up' had to be tossed." With a shug, she added, "They're pretty cheap. Now, why don't you share what you were smiling about?"

Harry grimaced. "I was considering the odds of leaping through the window without getting hurt."

"I'm not going to lie, Harry… That seems like an overreaction. Especially considering the door isn't locked and you can just walk out. But, I'd rather you stay. However, if you would like to leap through the window at the end of our session, I'd be glad to open it for you." The last bit was delivered with a half-smile that wasn't quite a smirk. Do middle-aged people smirk?

In spite of himself, Harry chuckled. "I think I'll just walk out when were done." He took another breath. "So, where do we start?"

"Let's start by discussing last session. What's happened that makes you so reluctant to trust people? I know it's not me, I'm extremely charming."

Harry chuckled and understood now why Ginny liked this woman so much. She was pretty cool. She was funny, too. "I really don't know where to begin." What he wanted to say was: 'I don't need you arresting the Dursleys and freaking out about Voldemort's return.'

She seemed to have expected this. "Let's start with school. I know you don't want to go back and I know your last year there was awful, but can you tell me about your first year at Hogwarts?"

Harry shrugged. "OK – Harry Potter, year one…" Buckle up doc, you're in for a ride.

Dance of Death—

An hour and a half later, Harry walked out of the office door. It had been a rough ride and Dr. Gaines had taken a great many notes. A few times, she seemed to doubt him, but kept her thoughts to herself. Harry had forgotten just how rough his time at Hogwarts was. They still had a more ground to cover from first year, having stopped after the Troll in the bathroom. Wait till she hears about Voldemort.

Arthur Weasley was still his magical contact person for medical issues and would no doubt vouch for his stories. Harry made a point of telling her she could verify his story with either Arthur or Bill. Doctor Gaines had made a point of discussing privacy and permissions. Unless he gave her permission, she would keep his confidence. The only exception was if there was a risk to his or another's health or safety.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting for him when he came out. Ginny was there as well. Doctor Gaines asked Arthur to come back with her. To his credit, Mr. Weasley didn't seem thrilled. Head doctors make most people a little nervous.

Ginny came over and hugged him. "So, how was today? You didn't break anything this time, did you?" They both had a good laugh at that. Ginny was pretty cool. She had apparently been shopping for school supplies. Harry noted a few bags from Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Nah, but it's still early. I may break something before I leave." Then, pointing to her bag, he added, "So, I guess you're back on the team."

Ginny squirmed a bit, "Yeah…" She knew how they had treated Harry last year. She hoped he'd understand. She loved quidditch.

Harry noted her discomfort, "They're lucky to have you. Say hi to Katie for me." Harry hoped he wasn't sneering. At best he came across as flat.

"I will." After a slight pause, she added, "You know this doesn't mean I'm friends with them, right?" She sounded a little anxious as she said that.

Guilt. He didn't want to take this away from her. "Look, just because I don't like them, doesn't mean you can't. Honestly, my issue is mostly with Alicia and Angelina. Seeing how your brothers are close with them, you should make the effort. Quidditch is best when you're friends with your team mates." There. He said it and managed to hold down his lunch.

Ginny nodded. She then quietly said, "Thanks, Harry. I know… Well, I mean… I'm still mad at them… "

"Forget it. Just make sure to kick Cho's ass on the field. I still don't like that bitch." Mrs. Weasley had apparently been listening while pretending not to. She fidgeted about when Harry cursed. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly just looked sadly at him and smiled. She knew what Cho had done to Harry. What was the world coming to when children can be so cruel? So sad.

Soon Arthur came out. Harry noted that Dr. Gaines seemed less than happy. Mr. Weasley gave Harry that calm smile he was so known for. Alright, somethings up. Harry just waited for the other shoe to drop.

Mr. Weasley calmly asked, "Harry, would you mind coming back into the office for a moment?"

Harry gave Ginny a pained look and walked back into Dr. Gaines office. Mr. Weasley looked embarrassed and Dr. Gains looked upset. Oh, boy. Harry began trying to think of a joke he could tell, but all he knew were the ones Fred and George liked repeating. Those were kind of inappropriate.

Dr. Gaines spoke first, "Harry, Arthur has not only verified your accounts, but he added a few extra elements you left out. About your Aunt and Uncle." She searched a moment before adding, "First of all, there seems to be a huge behavioral issue at Hogwarts and that's not alright. Secondly, I am obligated to report any instances of neglect or abuse. We're only going to make progress if you are open and honest with me." She had somehow said all of that in a calm way, but Harry could tell she was less than calm.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, "Dr. Gaines, it wasn't their fault. There was a… curse on me. Bill was working to find a way to fix it when it was removed. The removal of the curse is what damaged my magic. It's not fair to blame the Dursleys. They never beat me. And they feel awful about those years. We do all kinds of fun stuff together now, and Dudley is like a big brother. Honestly, I didn't mind the cupboard, it was actually pretty cool." He then tried to lighten the mood with a small joke, "Spiders don't bother me at all now." No one laughed. Arthur looked like he was on the verge of tears. Good grief. Sensitive men…

"Harry, I'd like to meet your relatives before I make a decision about reporting them to the authorities. I need to know things are better now. Your treatment was not okay and you need to know that."

Harry thought about this and realized he might be able to de-rail the whole therapy thing. "You know today was nothing compared to what's to come. If this bothered you, I'm not sure… Are you really up to this?" Just a little extra pressure. This might actually work. "I've seen all three unforgivable in use, I've killed in self-defense, I've been held under the cruiatus curse, I've had the imperious curse used on me, I've been bitten by a basilisk and I've had an entire school turn against me."

Harry intended to stop here, but he seemed unable to stop. "I was cursed constantly as I walk through the halls. Teachers refused to help me, most adults just prove to me how rotten they are… A corrupt ministry badmouthing me and trying to control me… Dementors feeding on me… I can't even describe how bad that feels… A godfather who was tossed into Azkaban and left there for more than a decade… without a trial… Now he's broken, too… His trial has been delayed... Humiliation at a dance… People laughing at me… I was cursed so bad I almost died while walking across a courtyard… Then I was tricked into ending an alliance with a family that should have helped me, but didn't want to... My pet snake was murdered and cut up for potions ingredients… What no one seems to understand is that, being a parselmouth, we were actually friends… He had a name. Franklin… Oh, and let's not forget, the goblins dropped me the moment I lost my magic… I won the damn cup for them, and they threw me in the bin like yesterday's trash… The minute I was no longer useful." After a short pause, Harry added, "No, Dr. Gaines, the Dursley's were not that bad."

Harry didn't intend to share this much. Once he started, he just couldn't stop. God it hurt. Now he just wanted to go home. Go to bed. How did it get so damn cold? Looking over, he saw the fountain had frozen over again. Well, at least they were cheap. Harry next saw that Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had come to the door. Had they heard any of this? Please let them not have heard it.

Mr. Weasley put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's alright, Harry. You're with friends." Harry thought it was strange how something as simple as a hand on his shoulder could mean so much. How reassuring it was. Mentally he took back what he thought about sensitive men. Not so bad on a dad.

Doctor Gaines seemed intensely focused. "I think we need to schedule longer sessions. I'd still like to meet the Dursleys, but I won't report anything for now. I have an office in muggle London we can meet at. If they really were under a curse, they may need a little therapy as well."

After everyone departed, Dr. Gaines packed up and left. When she got home, she fed her cat and sat down in her favorite chair to consider her day. She knew from her sessions with Ginny that the boy had fought a Basilisk, but she didn't realize how much he had suffered. Oh, she had read the Daily Prophet and knew what was being said, but this went beyond anything she had heard before. He had obviously started down the path to scare her off, but he lost himself in the telling of it. He needs help. The way Arthur had reacted, he seemed to believe it all. They all did. Her most famous client would also be one of her toughest. This would take time.

Dance of Death—

Privet Drive

Friday Morning

September 1, 1995

Vernon, Petunia and Harry got up early to travel into London where they would meet the Weasley's and the Grangers for breakfast and allow Harry to say goodbye to Hermione and Ginny as they head for Platform 9 3/4. Harry had convinced Uncle Vernon to have a big breakfast at 'E Pellicci', Hermione had raved about it. She called it 'The best full English breakfast in London!'

It all worked out well as Petunia had a late morning appointment with Doctor Gaines. Dudley had departed for Smeltings two days ago and she was struggling with Dudley being so far away. Lately, she was thinking more about Lily and her parents. She never really came to terms with the loss of her family in the last Wizarding War. With another on the horizon, she seemed to be feeling all the pain that she had suppressed for so long. Doctor Gaines had offered a few private sessions to help her cope.

After breakfast and while Petunia was in therapy, Harry and Vernon talked about hanging out in a local pub and watching a little football. It was a ruse. They would quietly go to Herrods for Vernon's favorite tea. It was a proprietary blend: Earl Grey No 42. With a wedge of lemon, this tea was the most amazing tea on earth. Vernon loved it, but hated going to Herrods with Petunia. The woman would stay there for hours. Vernon and Harry quietly planned to pick up a few tins and Petunia would never know…

The Grangers were there early and Hermione ran to meet Harry. "Harry! This was a brilliant idea." After the hug, she looked a bit confused and said, "You're so… solid." Shaking off that thought, Hermione added, "Oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. Thank you for suggesting this."

Dan was right there with his wife Emma. Vernon greeted the man warmly and the adults were all talking and complimenting each other. Vernon asked about Dan's golf game and joked about his own crazy slice. Emma and Petunia were soon talking about gardening. The group was led to the back where a very large table reserved for them. Given the size of the Weasley family, that made a party of twelve. Assuming only the school aged 'kids' show up. Hermione and Harry elected to wait outside for the Weasleys.

Hermione started in on him immediately. "Harry, how did you get so… solid? When I hugged you, I expected, well, not that." She was too polite to say 'skin and bones'.

Harry grinned sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. "Oh, I've been hitting the gym pretty hard. Dudley and I work out five or six days a week. I've put on about three kilos, but you'd never know it. Let's see, that's about six and a half pounds?"

Hermione smiled, "Yes, Harry. It's a shame the wizarding world standardized around the old English system. The metric system is much easier. Only the United States has it easy now." She reached out and squeezed Harry's arm. "Definitely more solid. I'd say you put on pure muscle and lost a bit of fat. Six pounds in a month is a lot."

Harry loved the compliment. When it was just Hermione, he didn't mind the attention. "Thanks. My trainer has me on a high protein diet. High calorie too, but pretty healthy. But enough of that, are you excited about Hogwarts? This is your OWL year."

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a Prefect Badge. "I made Prefect, Harry! I also have my study plan all laid out for the year. I plan to get all 'O's' on the OWLs and with my Prefect duties, that's going to be a challenge."

"You can do it, Hermione. If anyone can, it's you. Who's the other Prefect?" Harry didn't really care, but he knew Gryffindor didn't have any high achievers in his year among the boys. He'd hope for Neville but bet on Dean.

Hermione looked a bit pensive. "It's Ron, Harry."

Harry burst into laughter. Seeing Hermione's face, he realized this was not the reaction she expected. "Come on, Hermione! Ron? Lazy old 'let's play chess' Ron? You better adjust your schedule to make room for covering his duties as well as your own." Harry shook his head and laughed a bit more. McGonagall was a fool to appoint Ron.

"I gave myself some flex time to assist him. Harry, you can't stay mad forever, it's not healthy. Especially if you want things to be good with Ginny." Hermione looked a bit sad. "Ron and the twins feel really bad about last year, you should think about being friends again."

Harry slowly stopped laughing. "I'm civil, Hermione. Don't you remember last year? All the trips to the infirmary? The taunting… the cursing. That damn Declaration of... Eiectio? I hate pronouncing it."

Hermione took his hand. "I know Harry. I would… struggle with forgiveness, too. I'm sorry." After a moment, she added "I really just want you to be happy."

"Thanks, Mione. I feel the same about you." And he did.

"How's Sirius?"

Harry groaned, "His trial was delayed more than a month. Fudge is using the trial as a negotiation point in his own lawsuit." His frustration was apparent.

Deciding to change the subject before the Weasley's arrive, Hermione asked a more personal question, "So, how are things with Ginny?"

Harry beamed at that, "Amazing! We write each other all the time. I wish she had a phone so I could call her like I call you, but that's ok. We even meet at Mrs. Figg's house on the weekends, she's the squib that lives down the street. The Dursleys seem to get along alright with Mr. Weasley." Harry then winced and added, "They don't really like Mrs. Weasley, though. They think she's pushy. And if my relatives think that…" Harry made a funny face with the last comment.

At that, Hermione laughed. "Yep. My parents think she's overbearing." She then added, "She means well."

Harry nodded. Mrs. Weasley had a good heart.

Soon the Weasley's arrived, they were about fifteen minutes late and they were just as loud and chaotic a group as Harry remembered. He liked the idea of a large family. Harry was reasonably polite to Fred and George. Slightly less with Ron, but not in an obvious way. More of a 'professional' interaction. Ginny, on the other hand ran up and hugged Harry, talking a mile a minute.

They all went inside and had an excellent breakfast. It was a fun meal and Harry loved seeing Hermione and Ginny. Ron made some polite overtures and Hermione always included him. Harry knew what she was angling for, but he was done with Ron. He could forgive, but he wasn't ready to forget. For Ginny and Bill's sake, he let most of his animosity go. Hopefully, Ron wouldn't think that meant they were mates again. Friendly acquaintances was all they would ever be.

When breakfast wrapped up, Harry took Ginny over to the boot of his Uncle's car. Opening it, he pulled out his firebolt.

"I can't ride this now. Mme. Pomfrey says I'll never be able to, but I disagree. Still, it'll be a while before I'm able. A firebolt needs to be ridden." Harry saw the shock in Ginny's eyes as she was beginning to realize where this conversation was going. "So, Ginny, how about you keep it in form for me? Ride the hell out of it and keep it in tune."

Ginny looked at it in shock. "Harry, I couldn't! That's a firebolt!"

Harry smiled, "You can and you should. I want you to ride it. When I'm healed up, you can give it back."

Ginny got a mischievous look, "I don't know… If I get too used to it, it might be hard to give back. You may have to race me for it."

Harry laughed and hugged her.

"I wish you were coming with me, Harry! This sucks."

"I know, Ginny. But I'll write so much Hedwig will think she lives there. And we'll still see each other during the holidays. Just don't go chasing after any quidditch guys while I'm away." He added the last part as a joke. But he kind of meant it.

"Don't you worry about that, Harry! I'm a one-wizard kind of witch." And she kissed him. It was a good kiss. More than a peck, but still innocent. It was sweet and loving. He'd think about that kiss a lot over the coming year. That and the way her hair smelled. He pulled her into a tight hug.

"I love you, Ginny."

"I love you too, Harry."

Dance of Death—

Privet Drive

Friday Evening

September 1, 1995

That night, Harry reflected on his day. He saw his two closest friends and felt closer to Ginny than ever. Then, he watched them both go to King's Cross Station and Hogwarts. Had he made the right decision, rejecting Dumbledore's offer? On the one hand, he would see his friends regularly. On the other, he'd have to put up with Dumbledore and McGonagall every single day. And Snape. Not to mention all the students who treated him so poorly. With no usable magic, what would he do if attacked? Yeah, he made the right choice.

Besides, his garden was in top form. His empathetic connection with his rose bushes was strong once more, maybe stronger than ever. That rose he somehow absorbed seemed to increase the connection a bit. And his Boxing was coming along great. It may not be magic, but between the tennis and the boxing, his dueling skills were staying sharp. As a bonus, he was learning how to actually fight. With his fists. No, he'd never beat a Dudley in a fist fight, but he was learning how to avoid getting hit. And it was fun.

Turning out the bedside light, Harry practiced his occlumency for about an hour, then he drifted off. Instead of his normal dreams of quidditch, Ginny, and boxing, Harry found himself in a large white room in front of a door. He knew he was in his dreamscape, but it had been over two weeks since his last visit. A small part of him wondered if this was a trap, but he threw caution to the winds and opened the door.

The door dissolved away and Harry found himself in a dense forest. Fir and Pine was the predominant scent, but there was oak and moss as well. Underneath it all was a prominent scent of roses. Harry was on a path that wound out in front of him and went deeper into the forest. Instinctively, he knew where the path went. As he walked along, he could feel the magic. It was his magic… with oak and roses. Powerful. Occasionally, he would encounter areas that were barren, but growth was emerging around the fringes. He also saw a few rotten trees, but they had fresh growth rising around them. One entire area was completely raised, but, new growth was scattered throughout. He was healing.

After walking for what seemed like hours, Harry came to a clearing. In the middle of the grass filled clearing was a house he knew well. It was his dream house. Well, his parent's house. He wanted to sprint up and run inside, but he didn't. Harry focused on staying calm so as not to accidentally wake up. He slowly made his way to the house and noted the multitude of rose bushes all around the home. These were new. They were lush and primal feeling. Untamed, but not aggressive. Their flowers were so dark red they looked black. They matched the rose he had bonded with.

Stepping up, Harry knocked on the door and waited. Within a few seconds, the door opened and his parent's incarnations were smiling at him. For a few moments, no one moved, then Harry launched himself forward into their arms.

James ruffled his hair, "just like me! Crazy mess of hair… Come in!"

The led Harry into the main room and sat on a sofa he knew well. Overall, the house had been greatly repaired. It looked almost complete, except for a few missing patches of carpet and cracks in the walls. Still, much had improved.

Harry sat between his parents and just basked in the happiness of having them both with him. The Dursleys were great… well, they were now, but this felt different.

"Mum, Dad, I've been trying to get back here for weeks. What am I doing wrong? Everything looks so much better! Why can't I use my magic? I can feel it everywhere."

Lily smiled and answered him, "One question at a time. Let's see, we've actually been blocking you from coming back. But it's for your own good. Think of your magic as a spinal cord and your ability to use it as your spine. Your spine was shattered and your spinal cord was shredded. The magical pattern was still there, but it was in tatters and the ability to use it was fractured into pieces. Then, I worked through you subconsciously to form a pact with Oakheart and you sealed it with the Everliving Flower. That flower is the embodiment of a rose spirit that existed thousands of years ago. Long before Oakheart was damaged. By merging with the flower and swallowing an acorn from a pristine oak tree, on a ley line, you and Oakheart were able to form a bond. You are helping each other. Oakheart is being purified of a corruption forced upon him long ago and your magic is being re-built. When the healing is complete, you will be very close to what you were before, but until then, your spine needs to be 'immobilized' to fully heal. Coming here slows down the healing. James and I both have to direct much of Oakheart's activities to ensure your magic is repaired correctly."

Harry thought on this for a moment.

James took his moment of thought and added, "You fought the good fight Harry and now you have to heal up. We are both very proud of you. Think of this as a magical 'gap year' to explore other interests. Get your OWLs in topics that are non-magical and easy. Seriously, son, after the life you've been dealing with, you deserve a good, long, break."

Lily added, "Keep taking the Boxing lessons. You seem to be really good at it. Tennis, too. I never really liked golf, but that's your choice. But don't stop practicing your occlumency. When your magic returns, it will feel… different. Occlumency will help."

Harry nodded, then asked, "You said I would be 'very close to what I was before', and my magic will feel different. What does that mean? Will I be… fully healed?" Would I be weaker is what he really wanted to say. As Harry thought about it, he hated the idea of returning to Hogwarts and part of the reason was that he was ashamed of how far he had fallen.

James looked at Lily, "Lils, you want to take this?"

Lily rubbed her chin a moment, lost in thought, "Yes and no. You had a great many natural talents that the Horcrux blocked. The only one it didn't block was the Parselmouth, but it did prevent you from commanding serpents. Unless you were never really able to do that. It's a bit hazy there as both you, and the soul shard you were infected with, shared the talent. You should have naturally become an owl by now. Instead, you are only able to partially transform. Your eyes and your perception. But as a natural animagus, there should be a few other forms. You may still be able to transform into an owl, but other forms… that may no longer be possible."

"Shite." Knowing he lost something, before ever having it, really ticked Harry off. But at least he was alive.

After a moment, Harry calmed down, and Lily continued, "You displayed some degree of metamorphmagus abilities, but only to the tune of making your hair grow. I don't see that in your future. But honestly, I can't say that's a bad thing. Metamorphmagus Wizards and Witches tend to be viewed with suspicion and distrust. And it may have only been very limited." James scoffed when Lily said that and she shot him a warning look before continuing. "Contact magic was my thing, and you used to use it a lot as a baby… it's like basic magic without a wand, but it requires physical contact. I used to use it before I got my letter to make flowers bloom and fly through the air. Other minor stuff, too. It can be useful, but it's not anywhere near as powerful as what you can do with a wand. Or a spell matrix. You never used them after the soul shard took up residence, so those abilities are probably going to stay suppressed."

Harry slowly sat back on the sofa, thinking about what might have been.

James saw how depressed this was making his son. The young man he had missed for so many years. He looked at Lily, then offered a bit of encouragement. "Maybe in time, you can work through the… scar tissue… and use them to a degree, a little bit. It will never be quite the same. But think about how you adjusted to the 'blockage'. You did so much more with your animagus abilities while still in human form. With a little effort, you should be able to get a solid owl form. And the way you have been partially transforming since early childhood is unbelievably rare." Seeing Harry perk up a bit, he added, "Keep exploring that, son. I kid you not, 99% of the animagus population never achieves even a tenth of that level of control. Night vision? Hyper reaction speed? That crazy hearing… Amazing. Probably has something to do with the latent metamorph abilities blending with the animagus. The most I ever had was a bit of extra athletics and agility. And your mother's right, nobody trusts a metamorph. At best, people would try to control you."

That snapped Harry out of his gloom.

Lily saw the effect James' pep talk had. God she had missed that man. "Your spell matrixes*** will have to be rebuilt, but at least you know how to do it. It'll take time, but nowhere near as long as last time. Remember all those years we spent in this very house building them."

And Harry was now smiling. "I remember. We had so many good times here." The memories were flooding back. They were so vivid and clear. In the past they were cloudy, the horcrux used to block the memories he had in his dreamscape.

"Harry, you can access all that knowledge now. Just make sure to hold off on using any magic, no matter how minor. James and I can block most of the voluntary magic, but you need to focus on avoiding it too. You need to make a focused effort to avoid using magic for a while. Seven or eight months would be good. A year would be better. That way the foundations will be healed. The owl-like senses are a part of you and won't disrupt the healing, but you still shouldn't push it. Same with the magic sensing and speaking to snakes. They're passive, so the risk is probably zero, but why chance it?"

Harry nodded. He could do that. And OWLs were Eight months away… perfect.

Harry thought a bit. "OK, I can probably become and owl. The weird hyper-perception comes and goes, so I don't think that's really an issue. Talking to snakes and sensing magic are OK, but don't push it. Forget the other abilities… I never had 'em and I never will. So, I'm basically a slightly watered down version of what I was." Better than being a squib…

Harry noted his parents looked at each other, then Lily caught his eye.

"No, Harry. You will not be watered down. That's another reason for you to avoid using magic. You are merged with an ancient plant spirit – the rose. That spirit ties you to Oakheart, an Elder Elemental. He is rebuilding and healing your magic while your 'purity' cleanses him of corruption. In some ways, you're going to be more powerful. In others, slightly less. Your magical limits will be extended. You'll last longer while casting at full strength. In a few years, you'll have all the raw power you would have had before, only without the 'Horcrux' to hold you back. You already know your sensitivity to magic is stronger. The sensitivity is still there, but now without the pain. As your magic is repaired, you should be able to get a better 'read' on the magic you sense. Enchanters often have to use rituals and wear special glasses to have what you will have naturally."

Harry remembered how painful being around magic was for him right after his magic was damaged. Even before merging with the flower and connecting to Oakheart. It got better a few weeks afterward.

James picked up where Lily stopped, "You'll also have more magical growth potential over your life. It won't be something you notice until you're in your forties, but your theoretical limits are now higher. Your connection to the astral plane will be stronger and otherworldly spirits will notice you more. Similar to how your mother says you're 'noticed' by serpents when speaking parseltongue. That's not really good or bad, but it will be there. The elemental magic will sing for you, Harry. But then, it already did. Soon, I'll introduce you to advanced Illusionist magic. This is something I'll be looking forward to teach you when you heal up. That and transfiguration. According to Lils, you are already good at transfiguration, but I can get you to a mastery. There are very few transfiguration masters in this world. When combined with illusions and battle tactics…"

Harry was feeling a little better now. "So, basically, I won't be diminished magically, but I'll be different. I guess, I can live with that." He was guardedly optimistic now. Pretty cool. Just avoid magic for a year or so. Still, being a metamorph would have been amazing. Maybe in another life…

Lily looked concerned, but added, "Don't focus too much on just power, Harry. Being in tune with your magic and having a happy life is far more important than raw power."

James then added with a smirk, "But you'll have plenty of raw power, too."

The rest of the evening was spent talking about family and happier times. Due to the 'rebuilding efforts' on his magical core, Harry would only have access to his dreamscape once a month or so. He had to let things be for a while. His mum was amazing and his dad was pretty cool. Every month, he'd come back.

Dance of Death—

Surrey Boxing Club

Thursday, September 21, 1995

Harry was hitting the gym hard. Lou was putting him through the paces and now that Dudley had gone back to school, Harry had his full attention. He was sweating profusely and really pushing Himself. Harry continued to improve on speed and footwork, Lou was showing him how to move in close and 'go to the body'. Lou progressed Harry rapidly, noting that he had received some kind of training to move the way he did. Apparently, Lou thought he was a hell of a close-in fighter. He was currently training Harry to close in as fast as possible, rather than hover at arm's reach.

At the end of the workout, Lou took Harry aside. "Look, Whiplash… Ya got all the tools ya need. Just gotta pull'em togetha – ya know? I neva saw anyone so hard ta hit before. Get in close and go to da body. Do that and da big guys can't hit ya. They can still grab ya, but not if ya bust up their ribs, see?"

Harry listened. Lou was a rough man who really saw potential in him. "Right, coach. But how do you move in without getting clobbered?" Lou's accent could make it tough to understand, but the voice was always crystal clear. If he didn't have the rough accent, he would have been an amazing speaker.

Lou smiled, obviously, he had hoped Harry would ask that, "Timing, Whiplash! Rhythm and timing are a boxer's friend. When combined with speed and power, ya can't be beat!" Lou thought a moment, then added. "Ya got the speed, yer developin the rhythm. Timing'll be a snap. Power ain't something you got a lotta, though. Hard work'll help, but you ain't ever gonna be like yer brother. And he absolutely ain't gonna have yer speed. No one in da whole gym has yer speed." He was obviously pleased with Harry's progress over the last two months. Move in faster and go to the body. Good plan.

Harry nodded. No wonder Dudley loved boxing so much. Lou really was a gifted teacher. Harry was already one of the best flyweights in the gym and only a couple fighters could out maneuver him. Give him a few years and he'd be amazing. Maybe he and Dudley could be on the same team at Smeltings. Harry went to shower up and jog home. He sometimes laughed about showering before jogging home, but Dudley said the hot water was good after a workout. Yeah, he liked the heat of the water beating down on him. These intense workouts helped him channel his anger and frustration. His accidental magic seemed to spike up when stressed and angry, so he made a point to push himself.

The last month had been intense. The Dursleys met his therapist and a lot of pain came out. They were furious about being 'cursed' and no matter what Harry said, they were certain Dumbledore must have done it. The guilt and pain was palpable. In the end, the therapist offered to give family counselling, saying it would help them all. Vernon reluctantly agreed. Petunia was far more eager. She had a lot of guilt and pain over her fall out with Lily. She also confessed that Uncle Vernon had eating disorder and tended to overeat when he became angry. Dudley still felt bad about 'Harry Hunting' and all the bullying he did when he was younger. He expressed a desire to help other kids and Doctor Gaines gave him a bit of advice in that direction. She also agreed to meet with him on breaks when he came back from school. Harry knew Sirius was footing the bill, so at least no one could claim it was too expensive.

Harry's personal sessions were now twice a week and three hours long. Currently, they had gotten through Harry's second year and would soon cover Harry's trip to Egypt. Harry admitted to feeling guilt over killing Professor Quirrell, even though the man was possessed and trying to kill him. He talked about the slain unicorn and how much it upset him. He discussed his hatred of Draco and the Malfoy family. How Lucius Malfoy had put a cursed Diary in Ginny's bag and never had to answer for it. The way the school turned on him in his second year. How he forgave them, but came to regret it. The last session ended with his battle with the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

Therapy was actually making him feel better. He had been reluctant to get help, but now he was glad for it. He was feeling better about himself and his life in general. He was having to think about and work through a lot of emotional baggage he had picked up and tossed into the metaphorical attic. Maybe Sirius would benefit as well. He had an even worst life than Harry.

On another note, Harry had made the teenage tennis team, but it disbanded after school started. That's ok, there was always next year. He had a lesson a week and it was something he was good at. His real passion was boxing, but tennis would help if he ever got his magic back. He'd practice from time to time against the machine or another one of Sergio's students. Cardio would absolutley not be a problem after this year. Between Boxing and Tennis, Harry was exercising more than he ever had before. Quidditch took stamina, but it wasn't really cardio.

Harry made a point to write Ginny every other day. He also wrote Hermione, Luna, and Neville weekly. He was hearing horrible reports about Hogwarts. Apparently, some diminutive nightmare in a pink cardigan had come in and taken over. She was, by description, an even worse teacher than Lockhart, if you can believe it. Apparently, she was trying to gather information on Dumbledore and Harry. Maybe staying home this year was an even better idea than he had thought. Hermione was going nuts over the lack of training in defense and was even talking about forming a study group with Ron and Cedric. Harry considered this. Cedric was a jackass**, but he knew a thing or two about dueling and fighting. Whatever.

Ginny made the quidditch team, and so did Ron. Ginny made sense, especially with his firebolt, but Ron? No way. He always cracks under pressure and hates to practice almost as much as he hates studying. Maybe that's just a bit of pettiness talking. Good luck Ron. Well, the keeper is always in the hot seat. Hopefully, Ron was ready for it. Harry couldn't help but grin a little. He didn't want to… well, yes he did. Screw you, Ron.

Neville was doing well in Herbology. He didn't mind the crappy defense instruction, he was content in the greenhouses. He also liked runes and arithmancy. Neville was such a calm person. Hopefully Snape and McGonagall weren't making him miserable.

Luna's letters were fun. She even illustrated the letters. She was not a gifted artist, but the pictures were funny. One illustration captured Snape mixing potions while dripping oil. God, he loved Luna. On a whim, he started sending her specially chosen pages from the Surrey times. The horoscope, the business section, the obituaries and a few others. Just for kicks, he sent her the Sunday comics as well. She loved it. She had started making theories around Dilbert and decided Garfield is obviously a Kneazle. She even had theory that Calvin and Hobbes was really a story about Harry and Hedwig. What on earth would he do without Luna to brighten his day?

Home schooling began at the beginning of September and it was intense. With a few exceptions, most of the training was at a NEWT level due to the training his mother's incarnation had given him over the years. Remus taught him History of Magic and Arithmancy. Remus noted Harry was already at a NEWT level in Arithmancy and that made him 'up his teaching game' a bit. History of Magic, on the other hand, was awful. Harry was pretty much at the first year level. Bill trained him on Runes, Herbology and the theory behind Curse Breaking. Bill was fumbling through Herbology, but Harry had already learned most of what he needed from his mother's incarnation years ago. He could get an 'Acceptable' with zero effort. With a little preparation, an 'E' was a sure bet. Runes was an easy 'Outstanding'. He could probably get an 'Outstanding' on his NEWT exam tomorrow. He'd be 'dinged' on not being able to 'charge up' the rune, but only a little. Astronomy was a correspondence course and, while he enjoyed it, he felt no real passion for the topic. He'd take an 'Acceptable', but hoped for an 'Exceeds Expectations'.

So, to recap:

Arithmancy = Remus would teach, should be an easy 'O'.

History of Magic = Remus was teaching, aim for an 'E' but settle for an 'A'.

Ancient Runes = Bill was teaching, normally, this would be an easy 'O'. Unfortunately, the inability to charge of the runes would drop him to an 'E'. Maybe his magic would recover enough to charge them. Maybe.

Herbology = Bill was teaching this, Harry saw this as a solid 'E'.

Astronomy = Correspondence Course with Sinistra, go for an 'E'.

Muggle Studies = No study necessary. Easy 'O'. The only way he would get an 'E' would be if the test was outdated.

Harry didn't tell anyone, but he was hoping his magic would be partially restored by the time of the exam. It may not be fully there, but he could certainly get an 'O' in the theory portion of Charms, Defense, Potions, and Transfiguration. As long he could make a few sparks with his wand, he might get an 'Acceptable' overall… Maybe. He'd share his plans with Bill and Remus when his magic was more developed.

Dance of Death—

Privet Drive

Saturday, September 30, 1995

Harry had just finished a good workout and started home, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were in London. Last week, Aunt Petunia had discovered Harry and Uncle Vernon's Herrods outing while she had been in therapy and joyously insisted on a trip herself. Uncle Vernon had quietly told Harry to 'save himself' with a pained wink and a smile. The man had a funny side. That meant Harry had the house to himself. He may work the garden and tend the oak tree.

While jogging, Harry was considering some of his correspondence. The last letter from Hermione, specifically. She was asking if Harry would send her a few books on dueling. Harry had a few good ones, but he didn't want to send any of the more advanced books. They were pretty rare and possibly illegal. So, if confiscated, he'd never get them back. Still, he had a good basic book that should fit the need. It was probably still sold in Diagon Alley too. Maybe he'd pop over and buy a half dozen or so.

The latest copy of the Quibbler had a cartoon section and Harry was shocked to see one of the cartoons featured, you guessed it, 'Harry and Hedwig'. It was almost exactly the same as the cartoons he had sent her with Calvin and Hobbes, but this kid had black hair and a lightning bolt scar. Good Grief. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia loved it. He may send Luna one of those books you can buy with a years' worth of cartoons. Maybe he could introduce her to peanuts. Neville would make an excellent Charlie Brown. Pansy would make an amazing Lucy. Would that be mean? Apparently there was a cartoon called 'Crookshanks' planned as well, but Hermione got mad and Luna scrapped it.

Harry was laughing away when he heard his name called.

"Potter!"

Standing to the side was Piers and a couple of Dudley's old goons. Piers was a big tall fellow and the other two were just as rough looking. Dudley was the real muscle of that group, but Piers was rather nasty looking. He and his goons all looked older than they were.

"What do you want, Piers?" Thinking a moment, he added, "Why aren't you at Smeltings?" He was a student there, right? Wasn't he? Perplexed, Harry stopped and looked them over.

Piers glowered. "Apparently, Smeltings decided I was a bit too… rebellious. So, I figure, why not come back and go to the local school. Maybe take up a few of my old hobbies."

Harry smiled. Too easy. "Ah, let me guess, paint by the numbers? Modern dance, maybe? Of course, you always struck me as a Feng shui type. Or is it your modeling career at Dumb and Ugly? No, that can't be it, your mother works there and they frown on nepotism." His friends were trying not to laugh, but Piers was just staring. This was usually the point where they would leave with threats and promises. Of course, Dudley was usually the one who would make them leave. Hmmm. Maybe he should stop taunting the prat.

Piers just smiled, "Actually, I was thinking about a game we used to play. 'Harry Hunting' I think we called it. Do you remember that?"

Harry thought about it. Three guys. Piers looked like the toughest, but the others were all pretty big too. Maybe he could take one or two, but three? Without magic? Forget it. They all looked strong, but out of shape. Harry had no doubt he could out run them. So, he bolted. All those bouts of 'Harry Hunting' really helped him learn to run fast. Now would be a good time to turn into an owl.

Harry heard them yelling and poured on the speed. He'd take them on one of his old escape routes. Lots of twists and turns, then a long walk home for the losers. How long had it been since he'd run this route? Three years? Four? No, had to be five or more. This is a trip down memory lane. The chase went on for a good ten minutes.

Suddenly, Harry realized the route had changed. The first clue was a brick wall with no way around it. Too high to climb. Testing the doors on the adjoining buildings, they were all locked. OK, maybe he had time to double back and get to the street. It was only about ten yards away.

Then Piers came around the corner. Holding his side and breathing hard. The other two joined him. Man, they were out of shape. But they were blocking his escape. Harry thought about those books he read last year. Combat and battle strategy. Three on one and no weapons or wand. OK, narrow the odds. Pick the leader or the biggest and call them out. In this case, it was the same guy.

"Hey, Piers. How bout we settle this, just you and me. Unless you're afraid and need your backup…" That's it, keep talking, "Come on Piers, afraid you can't handle a kid half your size?" Harry made a few chicken 'bawks' at that. Silently, he thought, please let this work. I really don't want to call Pipsey. I think I can take Piers. Maybe.

Harry raised up his fists just like he did in the gym. Only now he had no gloves, no headgear, and no rules. "Come on, coward. Let's see what you've got." Harry smiled and even winked at the larger boy.

Piers was pissed, but he wasn't sure what to do. He cursed himself for actually catching the boy, that hadn't happened in so long. He never thought it would actually come to this. Where had that damn brick wall come from? Piers knew his pop would kill him if he got in one more fight. They had to eat the Smeltings tuition, all because he messed up some stupid thirteen year old. Dudley usually backed down way before this point. Why did Big D always act scared of Potter? Last year Big D and Potter became friends and Potter was untouchable. He wondered if Dudley would kick his ass when he found out about this. But Harry made fun of him. Piers knew he had to kick his ass or the guys would think he was a coward.

No choice, really. Piers stepped up and started swinging. Harry was never in the right spot. His buddies were cheering him on, so he had to keep going. Every time he swung at Potter he'd missed. Each miss tired him out a little. He was already breathing hard when he got here, now he was practically panting. He took a super hard swing to end this quick, but Harry ducked under it.

Suddenly, Potter was right up against him, crouched low and punching him over and over. His hands were moving so fast. Potter wasn't overly strong, but he was strong enough. Piers couldn't breathe as the wind was knocked right out of him. All he could do was shove Potter back, but Potter just kept closing the gap and tearing up his ribs and stomach. He felt a few of his ribs give a little. Suddenly, breathing hurt like hell. Potter was kicking his ass! He had to end this. Crush him against the wall…

Piers pushed Harry against the wall and charged him. He thrust out his right shoulder, aiming to crush Potter between himself and the wall, then, he'd wail on the boy. He just needed to catch his breath! Potter not only ducked, but he grabbed Piers shirt on the left shoulder when he dropped, pulling it forward. This leveled out his shoulders and put his face forward. Suddenly, Piers realized he was headed straight into the wall, face first. He couldn't stop and he couldn't get his hands up in time, so he just ducked his head down and took the impact with the top of his head. With a flash of light, everything went dark.

Harry came up and looked down at his childhood tormentor. The boy was a lot bigger and stronger, and now he was lying face down on the ground. In that split second, Harry lost his sense of the battlefield. He turned his back on the enemy. Just like in the courtyard at Hogwarts. He felt two arms wrap around him and lift him up while spinning him around. The next thing he saw was a fist, right on the side of his face near his left eye. His glasses went flying and his ears began ringing. What to do… Think!

"Oi! Put that kid down! Now!" It was a rough and authoritative voice.

Harry was dropped to the ground in a heap, his eye was already swelling up. Looking up, he saw a pair of 'Bobbies' approaching. His ears were still ringing, but he staggered to his feet. The female bobby came up to him and took his arm. Harry thought, great. Handcuffs.

Making eye contact, he realized she was in her mid to late twenties with sharp features. A little tall for a woman, and larger than him. She looked… concerned? That was new. Someone in authority who actually was concerned? Harry was suddenly embarrassed. He ran his hand through his hair and immediately regretted it. He was pretty sweaty. Apparently, goon number two hit him hard enough to make his nose bleed a little. She looked over at her partner. They were both furious. Harry just stared at his feet while holding his nose. He had 'the shakes', but that normal after an adrenalin surge.

The female Bobby took him over to a squad car that had pulled up. "Take it easy, you're ok." She calmly said. She took out a first aid kit and began treating his injuries. Basically, a strip of gauze to hold over his nose and a tiny Band-Aid for the side of his face. Harry suddenly realized how this must look. Being a little small for his age, everyone thought he was thirteen or fourteen. Piers and his goons were big ugly thugs and looked to be seventeen or eighteen. Hell, two of them looked like they could shave. He was wearing a preppy jogging outfit Aunt Petunia had given him, while the other boys looked like street thugs. Well, they actually were street thugs.

After she closed the first aid kit, she spoke again. "My name is Constable Stewart. Now, don't worry about those guys, they're not going to bother you again. What's your name?"

She handed him his glasses, which just completed the pathetic scene. It would be embarrassing and mortifying if it wasn't so funny. Dark Lords and Deatheaters had tried and failed. A Dragon and a Sphinx. Acromantula colony and a Basilisk. Merpeople and their tridents. Now he was reduced to a trio of common thugs.

"Thank you." He slid the glasses on. Now he could read. "My name is Harry. Harry Potter."

"Do you live around here, Harry?"

"No, ma'am. I live in Little Whinging. I ran for a while…"

She nodded. "Can we call your parents, Harry?"

"I live with my Aunt and Uncle. But they're in London today. They went shopping." She nodded again.

"Where are your parents, Harry?" She was obviously trying to get information. Trying to decide if he was lying or hiding something. Or maybe she just wanted to help.

"My parents died in a car crash…" He hated using that old line… As a cover story in Muggle England, it worked pretty well. But he still hated it. Harry noted she looked briefly at his scar. It was faded, but still visible.

"I see. Who can we call?" Now she was definitely searching.

Think of something. "My Uncle should be back at the house in a few hours. Can I just go home?" Harry thought about just bolting, but she now knew his name.

"Harry, you've been attacked and injured. I need to make sure you're alright. Is there anyone else we can call? Otherwise, we can wait at the station for your aunt and uncle." Polite, but firm.

Harry thought for a minute. Mrs. Figg? No, he didn't even know if she had a phone. The Grangers? No way. Too embarrassing and too far away. Lou wouldn't be at the gym today and Harry didn't actually know the gym owners. The Weasley's didn't have a phone… Uncle Vernon had a pager****… what was the number? Damn.

Harry then reluctantly said, "Well, Maybe Doctor Gaines…" No way she'd take the call. Not on a Saturday. But at least he would look like he was cooperating.

Reluctantly, Harry handed the police officer Dr. Gaines' business card. The constable read it and crinkled her eye brows in the same way Hermione does when she's upset. Oh, no. Harry suddenly realized how this was looking. Orphan, Car Accident, Childhood Trauma... Dr. Gaines' card clearly listed her specialty as childhood trauma.

"Wait here a moment, Harry. I need to speak with my Sergeant. It's alright." She smiled in a kind way, but there was pity there too. Damn. Harry hated pity.

Looking around, Harry noted there were now at least four Bobbies present. Must be a slow day. He heard the first bobby on the scene say, "Separate the trash and take statements. Call an ambulance for that one."

Harry suddenly straightened up, were they talking about him?

Constable Stewart returned and picked up on his sudden alarm, "It's alright, Harry. Don't worry about those guys. Now, tell me what happened."

Harry told the entire story. Well, he left out the taunts he used when Piers tried to intimidate him, just saying they traded insults. He admitted to calling Piers out when he was backed into a corner so it wouldn't be three on one. No point lying. Constable Stewart listened and took notes. Apparently a neighbor saw three large men chasing a small boy and called 999. Constable Stewart said he wasn't in any trouble, but since Piers was injured, he'd have to give a statement. He could come in tomorrow if he liked. With his aunt and uncle. She then told him to wait a little longer while she took her notes to the sergeant in charge.

Harry was able to use his owl hearing to pick up on the other interrogations. One of Pier's friends cracked and admitted that they had been watching Harry for a few weeks and planned to have fun with him. Apparently, they hadn't expected him to put up a fight. Once the first boy cracked, the other soon followed suit. The Sergeant really went after the boys when he found out Harry was an orphan and these boys had been bullying him most of his life.

Harry looked across the street where a small group of gawkers were standing. He noted that one had pink hair. Another seemed vaguely familiar. Now he was feeling a bit more nervous. Exposed. He needed to get out of here before anyone recognized him from the magical world.

As he was looking for ways to leave, a black Mercedes pulled up. Dr. Gaines stepped out of the car and approached the scene. She gave a reassuring smile to Harry as she approached. She was asked for her identification and Constable Stewart met her and brought her to Harry.

"Hello, Harry. I paged your uncle and he's on the way." Dr. Gaines gently lifted his chin and looked at his cheek. "You'll probably have a shiner tomorrow, here." She placed an ice pack on the side of his face. She came prepared.

"I need to speak with the officers, for a moment. This'll be over soon enough."

"Thank you Dr. Gaines. You should know… Some of the people across the street seem… familiar to me."

Dr. Gaines knew what that meant. She glanced over and surveyed the crowd. Yep, two of the people seemed to be dressed a bit odd. Outdated. another woman had neon pink hair. Definitely not something you can buy in a bottle.

"Don't worry about that, Harry. I'm sure they mean you no harm." They better not.

Dr. Gaines caught Constable Stewart's eye. "Constable, can you tell me what happened so I can take Harry home? I'll stay with him until his Aunt and Uncle arrive."

Before she could answer, her sergeant walked over. He was a large man and he carried himself with a great deal of confidence. He looked to be about forty five or so and had a very physically imposing way about him. "Hello, ma'am. My name is Sergeant Ambrose. I understand Mr. Potter is a… client of yours?"

"Yes, Sergeant." She held out her hand. "Harry has been working with me for a couple of months now. I'm Dr. Gaines, I believe one of your coworkers called me. Can you tell me more about what happened here?"

Well, it seems these boys decided to have a bit of fun at Mr. Potter's expense. Apparently, they got more than they bargained for." He shot Harry a brief smile. Harry smiled back in spite of his embarrassment. He then proceeded to give Dr. Gaines a rundown of the event. He ended it with, "We do need a statement from Mr. Potter here so we can put wrap this up. It can be tomorrow or Monday."

Dr. Gaines nodded. "I see. Are we free to go, then?" She wanted to get Harry out of the scene as soon as possible. She'd get a run down on what happened from Harry's point of view when she got him home.

"Certainly. Mr. Potter didn't do anything wrong." And he put a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. The message was clear – Nice job.

Harry managed a low key, "Thank you, Sir." Turning to Constable Stewart, he managed a quick, "Thank you, Ma'am." God this was embarrassing.

Dr. Gaines evaluated and appraised the officers in front of her. Constable Stewart stayed by Harry's side the whole time. She seemed protective. Obviously an older sister in a large family unit of some sort. Possibly a young mother. Sergeant Ambrose was old school and saw the need to stand up to bullies. Judging from his crooked nose and rough hands, he was no stranger to fist fighting. Obviously, they both felt the need to reassure and protect the Harry. If they only knew how much this young man had seen and done. Still, it was important for Harry to see that authority figures could be trusted. Hogwarts had undermined that trust immensely.

Doctor Gaines knew it was time to get Harry out of here. "Thank you, Sergeant Ambrose. Constable Stewart."

Doctor Gaines turned to her young patient, "Let's get you home."

Dance of Death—

I thought a throwdown with Piers was in order. Not only does it illustrate the differences between Muggle police and Wizarding police, but it sets up a key scene in the next chapter.

Dr. Gaines figures prominently in the next few chapters and will be in Casting Shadows as well. She's meant to be pretty cool. The more I wrote her, the more I liked her. I don't know anything about therapy, so I kept things vague. Same with police procedure. If I got it wrong, just fill in the blanks and don't let it ruin the story.

I plan to focus on the Dance of Death until I get past Sirius' trial. So many elements to cover.

*Psychotherapy vs counseling – Psychotherapy is a longer term treatment aimed at gaining a better understanding of problems a person is having. It is designed to address the root causes of emotional issues. Counseling is focused on treating symptoms and dealing with specific issues. The internet has a number of excellent sites that detail out the differences here. I am neither and have no desire to go down this road in the story other than to say it is happening and it is helpful.

**Cedric is not a jackass, but Harry is still upset over the Yule Ball. He refuses to accept either Cedric or Cho's apologies. Yep, its official, Harry is a normal teenager.

***A Spell Matrix is an ancient magic technique of storing a spell. It is especially useful when ambient magic is low or the Astral plane is polluted and corrupt. It is wandless and very useful.

****In 1995, cell phones were not common. Flip phones existed, but they were pretty bulky and most professionals just carried pagers. Amazing how things have changed.