[A/N: Quick programming note, there will actually be two more chapters after this one instead of one, as I had originally planned. After going to town on this chapter, I decided it needed to be split in two in order to give everything the space I think it deserves. It was feeling too rushed. Besides, having this fic finish in July with 31 chapters feels very right. Enjoy! And wear a face mask!]

Living with his parents was incredibly surreal to Harry, even four months after they came back. Even boring, clerical things, like fighting with the Ministry to retract their death records, and figuring out the back taxes they owed, filled him with joy and wonder. However, today was not one of those boring days.

Harry finally released his article in the Daily Prophet at the end of September. Lily and James had been getting antsy, so they were relieved to finally be able to go out in public. However, since they'd hadn't witnessed it much, they had underestimated Harry's popularity. The first time they went out with him in public, they had barely stepped through the door to the Leaky Cauldron before people started gathering, and they were mobbed. Luckily, Hannah Abbott, the barmaid, was able to sneak them out through an employee entrance. After an experience which Harry deemed 'pretty mild,' Lily and James weren't chomping at the bit to go out again. The others assured them it would die down, but five months on, they were getting desperate to begin living their lives. So, Harry and Luna had worked together to put together a press conference, which would hopefully calm things down a bit.

Harry peeked through the curtains at the rapidly filling seats. The conference was being held in Diagon Alley, with a small podium set up in front of the Daily Prophet office. They were using the office as their green room, and the mood was tense. It was a brisk December day, and they'd all much rather be by the fire at the after party already. Harry was very grateful that Ginny was by his side, her slim hand in his, as he shoved down the anxiety attempting to crawl up and out of his throat. Harry still loathed being in the public eye, although as a newly minted Ministry of Magic auror, he certainly had a few more tricks up his sleeve for dealing with nosy reporters.

Luna gave him a subtle nod. It was time. Harry took a deep breath, and put on his impassive savior face. Like a method actor, he only needed to picture a time he'd gone up against Voldemort to get his courage flowing. Today, it was the graveyard with Cedric. He may not have been able to save Cedric, but he could use the righteous anger to give his parents their lives back.

The flashes began going off as soon as he stepped outside the building. He and Ginny stayed near the door while Luna stepped up to the podium.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome. Many of you know me, my name is Luna Lovegood, and I am the Editor in Chief of the Daily Prophet. My friend Harry and I have invited you here today to draw the line between nonsense and news. We reporters must have a better understanding of how our words affect the lives of others, both those who read, and those whom we write about. During the war, many of us allowed our words to hide truths, to cause misdirection, to destroy reputations at the direction of those with malice in their hearts. Today, I am going to make a pledge. I encourage you all to join me in printing this pledge in your publication, and abiding by it. Those who don't, your readers will be able to judge you as they see fit. In honor of our guest of honor today, this will henceforth be known as the Potter Pledge." She pulled a piece of parchment from her robes and read it to the rapt crowd.

"All involved with the creation of this publication promise to never knowingly print misinformation or libelous falsehoods, and to never accept 'quid pro quo' in return for doing so. We promise to never again print photographs without written consent from those pictured. We welcome feedback from our readers, and will make sure there is a convenient way to contact us, with efficient response times. Most importantly, we promise that, as a reputable news source, we will never again allow bias to cloud our judgement when it comes to reporting true facts."

Luna gulped and returned the parchment to her inner pocket. It was out in the world. "If you would like a copy of the Pledge to print, please see Mr. Scamander at the end of the conference." She gestured to Rolf, who stood guarding the door. He smiled at her shyly, and she blushed in response. "Thank you for your attention. Without any further ado, I would like to present our main speaker for the day, my dear friend, Mr. Harry James Potter."

As Harry passed her to take her spot at the podium, Luna gave him gentle smile, which he returned. It wasn't until she took her spot next to Rolf and he inconspicuously took her hand that she realized she was shaking. Luna slumped against the door as she listened to the applause die down, very glad that her part was finished.

"Thank you, Luna," Harry took a labored breath, and launched into the speech he'd been practicing all week. "I know this all seems a little self serving at first, and I won't deny that the pledge has been influenced by my own experiences. But what I hope you'll eventually see, are the many ways that following these principles may have changed the out come of the war. Had the paper been open to criticism, more people might have been saved, knowing the dangers they were up against. More of our friends and family might still be here today if the time between his hateful actions and our response had been shortened. I look out at this crowd today, and I know not a single soul here was untouched by the reach of Lord Voldemort." The name still drew a few gasps from the gathered crowd, and which added a little fuel to his fire as he continued. "I'm sure we all have our stories of being incorrect information in print, but let me tell you a couple of mine. I've only ever had two girlfriends in my life, but if you read Witch Weekly, you'd think I practically run a harem. A reporter - a grown woman - locked me in a broom closet with her when I was fourteen in the hopes of making me relive my parent's deaths so that she could sell an article detailing my breakdown. My dear friend, Hermione Granger, was slandered over and over from the time she was a young girl. She was called 'Mudblood' numerous times in print during the course of the war. These articles are a part of history now. Do we really want our children, and our children's children, to see us in such a light? Surely printing disgusting slurs in news articles isn't best practices, at the very least, not to mention the personal repercussions Hermione faced. We're not asking you to lie in your reporting, we're simply ask that you remain unbiased - and that private lives be left private. I think we can all agree that the wizarding community has had its share of drama for a lifetime."

"Hypocrite!" came a shout from the crowd. "You want us to stay out of your life, don't write a bloody article about yourself in the Daily Prophet!" There were mummers of agreement rippling through the crowd.

"Excuse me sir, would you please stand? You're not in trouble, I just want to ask you a question," Harry said, rage boiling beneath the surface. Ginny grabbed his arm, and he took a deep breath as the man stood. He was older, in careworn robes.

"Thank you sir. Might I ask, did you read my article?"

The man guffawed. "Not likely. I get all me news from Quidditch Quarterly. I heard about it from a mate."

"Thank you," said Harry calmly. "That's all. That actually proves my point. I wrote that article because I wanted to get the truth out first, before speculation started. You all think you know me, but you only know what the press has decided that they know about me. By jumping to conclusions without doing the necessary research, this gentleman displays exactly the way our press has been acting for decades now." He shook his head. "The world is wider than scandal and gossip. There is good out there. And there's certainly enough bad that there's no need to manufacture it. Oftentimes, truth is much, much stranger than fiction."

Harry gulped dryly, and someone handed him a glass of water. "I only have one more point I'd like to make, and then I'll get off of my soapbox. On the matter of my parents. I will be willing to go to bat for anyone who feels they have been violated by false reporting in the past, but that goes double for my parents. As many of you no doubt know, they have been through quite a lot, and they would like to get on with their lives. Preferably out of the spotlight. I've gotten used to it out of necessity, but unless they do something truly newsworthy, I demand that they be left alone. Thank you all for your time and attention."

Feeling absolutely drained, Harry left the stage without noticing the swell of thunderous applause that followed him.

"That went rather well," Ginny said, eyes sparkling as they reentered the Daily Prophet office.

"I'm just glad it's over," Harry remarked wearily. "It's exhausting being 'the Chosen One.' I'd much rather just be Harry these days."

Ginny pulled him in for a gentle kiss. "Lucky for you, I rather like 'just Harry.' Come on, we've got a party to go to." She closed the door behind them and they joined the others.

In the four months since Harry had started Auror training, things had certainly changed at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Lily was working on her certification to work as a healer at St. Mungo's. She could now be found most hours of the day rambling around with a book in one hand and cup of tea in the other. She told anyone who'd listen how the advancements made since she last studied for her certification were absolutely groundbreaking. James was in talks with the current makers of Sleekeazy, hoping to negotiate a price. He wasn't getting anywhere fast, so in the meantime, he'd been helping George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He enjoyed it, being around someone whose brain worked the same way his did, and George was still a bit starstruck that one of the actual Marauders was working with him in his shop. They understood each other, and became good friends. Sales went through the roof as they invented new pranks and products. Ginny was out almost every other week at a game, and the Harpies were on a winning streak. Harry saw her play when he could, in disguise, so as not to catch too much attention. She got along well with her teammates, and had even made a few friends, but was always glad to return home after a long game. Harry himself was enjoying his work. He had a good partner, and although knowing the truth of how many Death Eaters were out there did spike his anxiety quite a bit, it gave him greater satisfaction to drop them off at Azkaban.

Now that it was getting close to Christmas, discussions had come up as to how they wanted to celebrate. Harry wanted to go to the Burrow like he and Ginny normally did. Ginny was happy to get out of the city, but didn't want to spend the entire break at her childhood home once again. As they were decorating the tree, James finally had an idea that might fit the bill.

"Actually, before I say anything, I'd better go and make sure it's even a possibility. I'll be back in a bit." He popped out of existence, leaving the other three crowded around the tree in the family room.

"Well, that's fine with me, I'm knackered anyway," said Ginny frostily. The disagreement had gotten pretty heated before James intervened, and she had only returned from her last game of the quarter earlier that afternoon.

"Wait, Gin," Harry grabbed her hand to stop her as she walked by. "I'm sorry. Let's work this out tomorrow when we're not so tired," She softened slightly, and planted a kiss on his head.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm just exhausted, luv. Those damn Aussies had me flying in circles for hours. I love you," she kissed the palm of his hand, and exited.

"I love you, too!" He called after her.

"That's a move you've got to teach your father sometime. I swear the phrase 'don't go to bed angry' was invented specifically for people to say it disapprovingly to me and James," Lily sighed, eyeing him as she hung a transparent glass ornament in the shape of an owl.

Harry chuckled. "I just try to say what I'm feeling. I don't like fighting with her, I much prefer the making up." He winked at her.

"Ew!" Lily threw a throw pillow at him. "Don't think you aren't too old for a time out, young man."

"Oh please, the walls aren't exactly soundproof. I'm not under any delusions that you two don't have sex. You must know that Ginny and I-"

Lily covered her ears. "Knowing is different that hearing you talk about it! If I want to pretend that my baby boy just cuddles his girlfriend very aggressively, just let me dream."

They both burst out laughing, and collapsed on the couch.

"Having parents is so much different than I imagined," Harry finally said, breathlessly.

"In a good way, or a bad way?"

Harry turned to smile at his mother. "A very, very good way." She reached out and patted his hand.

"Still," she sighed, sitting up. It has been making me think that maybe it's time your father and I start looking for our own place."

"No! Please don't go. We're still getting to know each other." He sat up too, worried.

"I know, but we can still do that while living separately. This is a lovely house, but it's yours. We need our own space. You know, we spent most of our time in hiding making the Godric's Hollow house just right for us. It was truly ours. I miss that place more than you know."

Harry nodded, thinking. "I do understand, really. Just please, let me have my family a little bit longer." He looked up at her like a lost little boy, and she just had to kiss him on the cheek.

"You'll always have us, you silly boy. We're not going anywhere. Harry." Lily transitioned to the new topic hesitantly. "Speaking of family, I've had something on my mind. I'll understand if you say no."

Harry groaned, and sat up straighter. "Alright, what is it?"

"I'd like to see Petunia," Lily said, avoiding his piercing gaze by looking at her folded hands instead. "I don't want to talk to her, because I'd probably give myself an aneurism yelling at her. I just want to…I don't know, make sure she's okay. She's still my big sister, after all. Besides you and James, she's all the family I have in the world."

When she looked up, Harry's face was in his hands. She put a hand on his shoulder. "No, give me a minute," he said calmly.

Finally, he returned his hands to his lap, and turned to face her, face red. "Alright. But let me go with you, to make sure you aren't seen. I'm warning you, though, she may not be there. The Dursley's like to get out of town over the holidays."

Lily nodded. "Alright. Maybe tomorrow? I'd like to get it over with sooner rather than later."

"That sounds good. Since I just wrapped up a case, I've got tomorrow off." Harry yawned and stretched.

"Looks like it's time for someone to go to bed," Lily said, smoothing his hair like she used to when he was a baby.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Goodnight Mum, I love you." He kissed her cheek absentmindedly, and stumbled upstairs. Lily sat by the fire for a while, staring into the flames, before James returned. He told her the good news, and they went upstairs to bed.

An ice cold breeze whipped through the bare trees on Privet Drive, but it wasn't the cause of the shiver that went up Harry's spine as he walked down the small road. There was just enough room for him and his mother under the invisibility cloak, so they made their way slowly. They finally came to Number 4, and all Harry could do was stop and stare. Lily pulled his elbow gently, and they sat on the small brick wall that separated the front garden from the road.

"There's a car in the driveway. That's a good sign. Petunia hates aeroplanes," Lily whispered to him. Harry nodded silently.

They sat there for about an hour before there was any movement from the house. First came Vernon, then Dudley, both weighed down with heavy suitcases. Petunia bustled out after them, and began supervising them as they loaded up the car. Lily suppressed a gasp when she saw her sister.

"She's so much thinner than the last time I saw her. That can't be healthy," Lily muttered to Harry.

"She's been like that as long as I've known her. She hardly eats anything, so Vernon and Dudley usually finish her plate. Looks like Dudley's actually lost some weight, though. Good for him," Harry replied.

Petunia seemed to suddenly look their way with a suspicious glare, and they both froze. They continued watching in silence as the Dursleys packed their car. At one point, Petunia brought out the blender, and something clicked into place in Harry's brain.

"Mum, I don't think this is just a trip. I think they're actually moving out."

"No. Petunia loves that house. Maybe they're going to Spain, and they want to make mixed drinks."

"And what about the toaster? They don't have toasters in Spain?" Harry shot back.

Lily gulped. "I think you might be right. God only knows where they're going. This might be my last chance…I have to talk to her." And before Harry could stop her, Lily got up and walked out from under the invisibility cloak.

Several things happened at once. Petunia did a double take when she noticed the red haired woman striding across her lawn. Once she recognized the face, she let out a high pitched scream, and fainted in a pale heap on the immaculate grass. Dudley dropped the toaster, which broke into a million parts, and tripped over the debris trying to get to his mother's side. Vernon had no reaction at all at first, being preoccupied with stuffing a particularly full bag of clothes into the very full boot. When his wife screamed, he jerked violently and hit the back of his head on the open trunk door. His curses filled the air as he searched around for something to defend her with. He came at Lily welding a long wooden curtain rod raised over his head like a sword. As he, too, recognized her, it clattered to the pavement. He went from red to white to green to red all over again, and was trembling by the time Harry, sans cloak, caught up with his mother.

"Boy!" He barked at Harry. "What kind of stunt is this? What the bloody hell are you doing here anyway? And who is THAT?" His voice dripped with malice as spit flew from under his mustache, one thick sausage finger pointed vehemently at Lily.

"Hullo to you, too, Uncle Vernon. Well, it's a long story, but it's exactly who it looks like. I believe you know my mum, Lily Evans Potter?"

He stuttered and stammered so profusely that Dudley's voice was almost lost amid his babbling.

"You're my Aunt Lily?" Harry and Lily turned to see Dudley staring up at them, eyes wide.

"I-I suppose I am," Lily chuckled.

Dudley got to his feet and extended his hand. "Dudley Dursley. It's very nice to finally meet you."

Lily ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him in for a hug. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"What's gotten into you, Dud? You believe me?"

Dudley shrugged once Lily released him. "Dunno. Guess I've just seen enough weird stuff to believe anything. I mean, a couple years back, a floating blanket man almost sucked out my soul. Besides, it's not every day you get to meet your dead aunt."

Lily laughed with relief. "Well, it's very nice to meet you too, Dudley."

"Here, Harry, will you help me get Mum inside? The couch is still there, and I'll put the kettle on for when she wakes up." Harry hesitated, then helped Dudley lift his aunt into the house, his uncle raging behind him.

"See here! Do not lay a finger on my wife! She's had enough of your kind for a lifetime!"

Lily whipped around, eyes lit from within. "You. You're lucky I don't turn you into the great fat cow pie you are for the way you've treated my son. All you had to do was be a decent fucking human being, and you couldn't manage that, could you, Vernon? Now you get into that car of yours, and you stay there until I leave, or so help me, God, you'll get what you deserve. And that's not a threat, that's a promise."

Lily left him stammering angrily in the yard, and strode into the house. Even with wide open floors and bare walls, it was exactly as she remembered it. She'd only visited once, to try and smooth things over after Petunia's wedding. Things hadn't gone well then, either, but she felt determined to talk to her sister one last time, for better or for worse.

In the living room, only the furniture was left, waiting for the movers. Dudley sat fanning his mother on one couch, while Harry stood anxiously waiting for his in the doorway.

"Mum, we should go. It's not going to be pretty when she wakes up," he muttered to her.

"You're damn right it's not," she replied venomously.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to her," he said breathlessly.

Lily smiled at him calmly, and sailed into the living room. "I changed my mind."

Petunia began to stir, and Dudley looked to Harry for help. Lily perched on the opposite couch, like a coiled snake, ready to pounce. Harry shrugged at Dudley helplessly.

Petunia saw Dudley first. "Oh Duddy, darling, I had the most horrible dream. You and Daddy and I were loading up the car when I saw-" Petunia looked around the room and gasped.

"It wasn't a dream, Mummy. Before you get mad, let Harry explain," Dudley held her hands, trying to get her to focus on him. She began having trouble breathing.

"Why is he…? How could he - possibly explain-"

"Aunt Petunia, the truth is that I really can't explain, but you really do have to trust me when I say that this is my Mum. She's been trapped somewhere for all those years, and she had no way of getting out. But this is really her, and all I'm asking is that you listen to her," Harry approached his aunt like she was a bomb he was attempting to diffuse.

She looked to Dudley for help. He shrugged. "Seems like the least you can do, Mum. They did come all this way."

Petunia drew in a ragged breath, and nodded. "I'll listen," she said raggedly, "but it doesn't mean I trust you."

Lily leaned forward on her knees. "I really don't know where to begin, Tuney. First of all, you have to know that we never meant for Harry to come to you. We had several people lined up to take care of him in our will, but our wishes were ignored. On that account, I want to apologize. However…I don't know how I can forgive you for how you treated my son. What he has told us is vile and reprehensible, and I believe that's only the tip of the iceberg. And what's worse, I know you're capable of treating a child with love and respect, because the evidence is sitting right next to you on the sofa. I don't know what happened to you, to put all of this hate into your heart, because I know that's not how Mum and Dad raised us."

"Don't you talk to me about my parents!" snapped Petunia. "You have no right to read me the riot act, even if you are really her, which I doubt you are. You're just another freak, intent on ruining my life one last time. Well, I won't allow it. No one comes into my house and disrespects me like that. Get out, the two of you! Out!" Petunia trembled as she pointed to the open front door. Harry was more than happy to follow her instructions, but Lily held him back.

"You know, Tuna," Lily said, voice dripping with venom, "I had hoped to get some closure today. But after talking to you, it's clear that I no longer have a sister. So I guess, in a way, I did get my closure after all. Dudley, it was lovely to meet you." And with one last glare at Petunia's gaping face, she and Harry apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"Why were they moving, anyway?" Ginny asked later that night, as Harry and Lily told their story over dinner.

"Too many bad memories," Harry replied. "Dudley said his parents felt that I 'ruined their forever home.' They've got a new place across town. He hasn't lived there since he finished secondary school, he was just helping out."

James snorted. "They do realize that if they'd just treated you with decency, everything would have been different? They could've kept their great bloody 'forever home' if they'd simply not abused a child." He threw his hands up innocently. "Is that really asking too much?"

Lily just shook her head. "Apparently. I had really hoped she still had some good in her, but I don't think there's anything left of my sister in that wretched woman." She ruminated on that thought for a moment, and heaved a deep sigh. "At least I've got my two boys. And you, of course, dear Ginny. I hope you know that I consider you family as well."

Ginny's eyes went overly bright, and Harry put an arm around her shoulders. She suddenly stood. "I should get this cleaned up. Kreacher does so much around here, I'm afraid I'll forget how to do dishes!" She spun around the table merrily, the others pretending not to see her hastily wiping away tears.

"You know speaking of the Dursleys, my only regret about this whole thing," said James, between sips of Butterbeer, "is that I didn't get to raise you myself. I was really looking forward to having a son. Not that I don't love you, Harry, but I think even you have to admit, you don't feel like my son so much as my long lost little brother. You're done growing up. You don't need me."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "I don't know, Dad, seems to me like I don't know anything at all. I think I need you more now than I ever did as a kid."

Lily put a hand on his shoulder. "That just shows how grown up you are, Harry. Kids think they know everything. Adults know that they don't know a damn thing."

Harry laughed. "I guess that makes me an adult, then. And just in time for the new century! Cheers to that!" He lifted his drink and clinked it with theirs.

"Mm!" James exclaimed through a mouthful of Butterbeer. "That reminds me - I know where we could celebrate Christmas. Probably the best place I know, besides Hogwarts. My parent's house, Dagonmire."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Your parent's house? I never knew we had another house. Is it livable?"

James nodded. "Checked it out last night myself. Could use a dust, but otherwise it's mint. It's no Malfoy Manor, but it's certainly bigger than this place, and a great place to escape the city. We could invite your family to join us, Ginny."

"Where is it?" Ginny asked, rejoining the conversation.

"Scotland," said Lily, grinning widely.

"Near Glasgow. It's outside a town called Hamilton. There's a lot of family history there, Harry. I'd love to share it with you." James glowed with pride.

Harry felt he might cry. "That settles it, then," he said thickly. "We're going to Dagonmire for Christmas."