Chapter 27

Dolohov put up remarkably little fight over Harry visiting the Potters. It took only a few sentences to secure his release; simply a notice that they had asked for him to visit and a few flowery exaggerations about his close ties to the family before Dolohov waved him away distractedly, with a muttered 'go on then' as he turned back to whatever he had been writing previously. Harry had practically dashed from the room, eager to leave before Dolohov could retract his permission.

The return to the Potter's residence was bittersweet; as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace it felt like a weight had dropped from his shoulders, like he could finally take a breath and feel his lungs fill completely, out from under the supervision and stress of Dolohov and all of Grindelwald's cronies—yet at the same time, a new feeling of dread creeped along his spine, intensifying with every step he took away from the floo. It meant he would have to face James and Lily Potter, falsely accused and disgraced, yet also unable to speak and clear his name. What would they think?

"Why should it matter?" He muttered to himself.

"Harry?" A voice said from behind him. He spun around on the carpeted hallway. A surprised looking Lily was standing behind him, wand tucked behind her ear and a stack of books delicately balanced in her arms. Her eyes lit up as he faced her. "Oh Harry, welcome dear! We didn't think you'd make it till later—but what a wonderful surprise! Come along, lets go find wherever James puttered off to, he'll be just chuffed to see you. We've been dying to hear all about your time on the continent; we had barely any time to catch up during our visit."

Lily was a waterfall of bright smiles and cheer, ushering him down the hallway with a deluge of fondness, chattering away about this and that, Violet's school and James's jokes, without a mention of the unpleasantness behind his presence back in Britain. As they strolled into another room, James looking up with surprised excitement, Harry found it hard to contain his smile. For a second, he could almost forget about his past couple of days. Until the brief respite was punctured by a commiserating look from James.

"Heard about what happened over there, that got you kicked out," He said with a grimace. "Nasty business that." Harry felt the smile fade from his face, his temporary good mood melting away under the sweltering reality.

"Ah, yes, well—"

"And we didn't believe a word of it!" Lily cut in, shooting her husband a defiant look. "I said as soon as James told me, 'I know Harry, and that doesn't sound like him'. Clearly, someone wanted you gone!"

James gave Harry a rueful smile, nodding in agreement. "Aye, it didn't sound quite right. But you know how young boys can be sometimes." He wilted under Lily's glare. "But we know you've got your head screwed on well and good. Political bunk it had to be, of course." He declared.

"Of course it was," Lily sniffed. "Look at the poor boy's face, I knew he wasn't the type."

Harry blinked, reining in the slightly bewildered look he hadn't realized he'd let slip.

"I was right Harry, wasn't I?" Lily asked, her tone softening.

"I—yes," Harry said, nodding. "There are some—things—going on over there that led to this. Things I can't talk to you about. I'm sorry."

She waved it away, her smile returning. "That's okay Harry. We just wanted you to know you're welcome here still."

"That's right lad," James chimed in. "Figured Riddle's got you in up to your neck, no doubt, the bastard that he is."

Harry laughed, a warmth cracking through the knot in his stomach and flooding out into the rest of his body, strong enough to wash away the sudden irritated burning on his chest.

"Thank you—both," He said sincerely. For a moment he stood silent, basking in the presence of the two people that could have been his parents in another life.

"I'm in no position to ask this of you, but I don't know who else to go to," he finally said.

"What do you need Harry?" Lily asked, concern knotting her eyebrows.

"I—I was wondering if your previous offer was still available, and that maybe, I could stay here for a while?"

The look of worry melted off her face, as a warm smile spread over it. "Of course you can."

He had to ask. There was no way he was going to try and live in Dolohov's presence daily; he'd either slip up and get killed or finally snap and off the man, consequences be damned. Not to mention, he wouldn't have the freedom to let Riddle work on removing his shackles. Of course, this was the easier of the two favors he needed.

"There was another thing," He started. "There's a child—recently orphaned. He has nowhere else to go, but he can't go to the authorities right now, just for a while. I can't leave him where he currently is—but I just don't know what to do with him."

They both blinked at him, nonplussed.

"Merlin lad, what've you gotten yourself into?" James muttered.

"You want us to take him in?" Lily asked, her face screwed up in consternation.

"Yes," Harry grimaced. "Temporarily. I know that's an absurd thing for me to ask, but well, I have no other options. He's just a kid, not even Hogwarts age—"

Lily cut him off with a wave and a teary smile. "Of course we will dear." He froze, somewhat stunned.

"You said he was recently orphaned?" Harry nodded. "The poor thing," She muttered, her eyes searching Harry's face with some unreadable emotion churning behind her eyes. "If you say he can't go to the proper channels right now, I trust you—it would be the least we could do to help the child." James nodded in agreement, silent, but resolute as he stared at Harry with contemplative eyes.

"Where is he now?"

"He's—well I'll just go get him," Harry said weakly.

He appeared in the wooded area near Delaney's house with a muted crack. Just beyond the barrier that prevented apparition in. He waved his wand and the air above him wavered, a floating body flickering back into view from where he had hidden it in a tree. It floated down towards him, bobbing a few inches off the ground. He grabbed onto one arm, pulling the child down to his side, preparing to apparate back.

He froze in his tracks as a thought occurred to him.

"You realize that there's something you must do before you return?" Riddle cut in.

"I—he saw me. With Dolohov."

Riddle hummed in confirmation.

"But he's a kid Riddle, probably hasn't even reached double-digits yet. I'm not sure—memory charms can have serious effects on an undeveloped mind like his, especially if cast improperly; I mean, it could really mess him up. Did he even have time to process what he saw?"

"Don't be a fool boy," Riddle spat. "He saw you and Dolohov, and his mother, murdered. He saw you cast the killing curse at him. You know you can't pawn him off to the Potters with those memories. How do you think Lily would react to that, I wonder? That you were party to this child's orphaning?"

"They know I wouldn't do that—they didn't believe what Europe tried to frame me with. I can explain beforehand."

"Yes, because that story was told by a bunch of slimy foreign politicians—not a little child, screaming and crying that he saw you standing over his dead mother. And you can't even say anything to clear your name, not while that thing in your mouth remains."

Harry squinted at the ground. "How will he react when he wakes up and has no clue where he is and wants to get back to his mum? They'll all think I kidnapped him."

"Are you saying you'd rather him remember his mother being murdered right in front of him? Wouldn't it be a mercy to spare him that horror?"

Harry's mind reeled. A bright green flash, and chilling laughter; the screams of a woman, clear as the day they were made, echoing through his mind. The shadow of something tall falling across his vision.

"I suppose it would be," He muttered, a brief shiver trailing up his spine making him shake his head.

"Are we in agreement then?"

Harry blinked and looked back at the floating boy. He sighed. "I suppose."

"Besides," Riddle continued in a softer voice. "You're quite the talent for mind-magic. I have no doubt you could cast a memory charm without any deleterious effects."

Harry cocked an eyebrow, looking downwards at his chest in confusion. Where had Riddle gotten that impression?

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about? The only mind-art I know is Occlumency, and you're well aware I can't even do a lick of it."

"A minor deficiency in a sea of talent. Come now, do you really believe you are the average in the field?" Riddle laughed, a coughing snort that hummed uncomfortably through Harry's chest.

"You can throw off the Imperius curse at will; even one drilled into your brain and backed up with sub-conscious death threats. You know I'm not one for fostering other's egos unnecessarily, so know I mean it when I say the number of people who could accomplish that are vanishingly small."

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "I've always been told I'm incredibly stubborn—I suppose that counts for something when trying to resist someone controlling you. I don't think that has much to do with natural talent though."

"You'd be wrong," Riddle said. "The staggering amount of willpower needed to be able to simply ignore the Imperius curse is very much a talent in of itself, that lends itself quite seamlessly to the mind arts. And, don't forget, I saw you use your little trick on that empath woman we captured. That was a bit of magic I've never seen before—quite impressive."

"Oh, that—I don't even know what that is, myself," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"And you say you don't have a natural talent," Riddle scoffed. "It was almost as fascinating as the magic of that woman. Some intermixture of Legilimency and the Imperius curse it felt like to me, transmitted through the voice instead of eye contact, wielding your will power against the target's like a hammer. The possibilities of such an ability—you aren't restricted by barriers or wand aim, only to merely be within hearing distance to lash them to your will. Have you experimented with your range?"

"I—no, I haven't," Harry muttered, off-balance. "That's more than I knew about it. I think you're overestimating the capabilities, but I only accidentally discovered it recently, I still don't really have a good understanding."

Riddle hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting. I wonder, you say you have no skill with Occlumency—but how much experience do you have at the receiving end of the mind arts?"

Harry snorted. "Years worth. I'm quite familiar with mental attacks."

Riddle clicked his tongue, making a small noise. "No Occlumency, but near immunity to the Imperius, years of suffering mental attacks, Legilimency perhaps, or other flavors," He mused. "I can't help but speculate—perhaps this is as accidental as you say it was, like the magic of youth, shaping itself to fit a strong need outside of our control. A defense mechanism to protect you, mimicking the magic it was used to fighting."

"You think my magic created some sort of offensive mind magic to defend itself against attacks, the same way I summoned toys into my hands as a toddler?"

It made an awful amount of sense to Harry the longer the thought stayed in his mind. He had spent years desperately training to improve his Occlumency to no avail as Voldemort plagued him with nightly visions of horror, ever more frequently incapacitating him with sheer pain as he toyed with their connection. And then, when this ability first manifested itself, in the bottom floor of an empty office building, as Fleur's mind magic smothered him under its power, and he was almost totally lost, it had manifested itself and saved him.

"As a theory. It certainly sounds like you."

Harry nodded reluctantly, raising his eyebrows in wry agreement. "You're probably right there."

"No more dallying now. They'll be wondering what's taking you so long."

Harry nodded.

Lily floated the unconscious boy down the hallway to an empty bedroom, spells for fetching food and potions spilling from her lips. Harry had given her suitable warning about the child's mind-state, that his recent memories of an attack on his house had been lost. She didn't ask any questions about it, which Harry was thankful for; He didn't want to have to confirm who cast the spell.

He stood with James, solemnly watching the pair disappear down a hallway. James turned away with a heavy sigh. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Come on then, let's go have a drink while Lily gets the child settled in. Tell me some stories about the continent." He guided Harry away, keeping his arm on Harry's back.

"I reckon you've been itching to hear all about Jimmy," Harry said.

"Ah, A bit I suppose, the parts he wouldn't tell us I suppose. We've actually been keeping up with him fairly regularly."

Harry's head reared back, blinking on confusion. "But—how? There's no connection to Europe."

James winked, giving him a smug smile. "Old family heirloom helped us find a bit of a—loophole. We have mirrors, enchanted to connect with each other. Because Jimmy has the other one, we've been able to talk to him when he can."

Harry almost stopped walking, as the realization settled in. "You have a way to communicate with people in Europe."

"It's illegal I suppose, but, family you know," James shrugged.

Harry gave James his best charming smile.

"Do you think I could borrow that mirror?"

"Hey Da—Harry?" Jimmy looked out of the mirror at him in confusion. "What're you doing with the mirror?"

"Your parents let me borrow it," Harry said. "Listen, have you heard anything about what happened with me?"

"A—a bit," Jimmy shrugged nervously. "They're not really talking to us about it, we just know you're back in Britain. But some of the adults, we've heard them talking, and, well—we don't know what exactly happened, but they don't sound very fond of you."

Harry snorted, nodding. "I'd imagine not. Listen, this is important. Remember what we were talking about that one morning in my room? Things with Europe have escalated, and Britain's been compromised. That's why I got kicked out," He continued hurriedly. "Also, the Tom Riddle there, is not actually Tom Riddle. They—replaced him, to infiltrate Britain. Same with his other agents—don't trust any of them if you see them, and for Merlin's sake, don't talk to them, about anything."

Jimmy's eyes bugged out, mouth opening in surprise. "They—what? Are you serious?"

Harry nodded gravely. "You need to be very careful, I'd stay clear of whatever Malfoy's getting involved in, before you end up like me—or them."

Jimmy ran a hand through his hair, blowing a deep breath out of his mouth. "Merlin Harry. I'm just supposed to act like everything's normal? I don't know if I can. Can you tell me what's really been going on? Why they wanted you gone?"

"I—I can't," Harry sighed. His eyes widening as Jimmy deflated. "Wait—Fleur, you know her? She can tell you what happened to me."

"The french bird," Jimmy said unconvinced. "You trust her?"

"Not exactly—but she's no friend of Europe. She won't spill anything to them."

Jimmy nodded, looking thoughtful. "What then? Are you sure we can't do anything to help?"

Harry started to shake his head, but stopped. The memory of a small grey muggle phone flashed through his mind. "Actually—there just might be, if you can find Fleur. Though you might need more help."

Jimmy screwed his mouth up in consternation. "Is there anyone else we can trust?"

A thought came to Harry. Risky, but it might just work. "You know, I think there is."