That evening, Dumbledore came to the Gryffindor tower to find that Harry was sitting in the comfy armchair in the Gryffindor common room and Small Harry was fast asleep in his older friend's arms.

Dumbledore smiled.  "Well, Harry.  I see that you've had a very productive day."  He glanced at the toys on the floor, his eye resting on the Hogwarts castle.  "Isn't that clever!  I wouldn't mind playing with that myself."  He knelt down on the floor.  "Bless my soul! What an excellent representation of Professor Binns!  Hm, Professor Snape looks a bit out of sorts in there, though."

"He's been in time-out all day.   He's probably not in a very good mood."

"Oh, I see."  The headmaster removed the little figure from his corner and put him next to a caldron in the potions room.  The tiny potions master seemed mollified and began making something that smoked green.

The headmaster straightened up.  "Did you have a happy Christmas, Harry?"

Harry smiled wistfully at the child sleeping in his arms.  "It was the best Christmas I never remember having."

Dumbledore nodded.  "I see.  Thinking that you may need that Obliviate charm after all, eh?"

"I don't see how I can get around it.  I didn't want to, but it's been too much, I can tell.  And I'm sending all the Christmas presents but the castle, so if I don't do an Obliviate, Harry is bound to remember where they came from."

"And how to you plan to explain that?" Dumbledore nodded at the doll still tightly enfolded in the little boy's grasp.

Harry shrugged.  "I wrote a tag that said 'Merry Christmas from A. Figg' and tied it to the doll's wrist.  That way, if Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia ever sees it, they'll figure it's from her.  I've already told Harry not to take the tag off and he knows he better not let the Dursleys see the doll if he can help it, anyway."

"And the rest?" 

"The pillow will get traded for his old one.  The chocolate frogs are just about gone.  He can hide the rest under his cot.  No big deal."

"I see," said Dumbledore again.  "Considering your younger self's age, I'd say you don't really need a full Obliviate.  Just something to fuzzy the memory a little.  If I may?"  The headmaster pulled out his wand and pointed it at little Harry.  "Obscurify," he said softly.  Harry murmured in his sleep and squirmed, but didn't wake.  "That should do the trick."  He switched his attention toward the older boy.  "And now, I suppose you know what you need to do?"

Harry nodded regretfully and stood.  "It's time for me to take him back."

The lake had frozen over during the night, so Dumbledore and Harry took a different route to the edge of Hogwarts.  Just like the last time, Dumbledore waited for Harry while he Apparated to the Dursleys, did a time change, and came back.

From Dumbledore's perspective, Harry was back in a few seconds.

"Everything go off with no trouble?"  Dumbledore asked.

"No.  No trouble."  The two trudged back to Hogwarts through the snow.  Harry tried again to remember Christmas the year he was five.  He still remembered being locked in the cupboard, although now he had vague recollections of someone coming to him: it was all somewhat hazy, as if he couldn't quite remember a dream. 

He reached for any memory at all from his five-year-old self's visit to Hogwarts, and came up with feelings rather than definite incidents. He didn't remember flying, but he remembered the feeling of joy he'd had in flight on the Firebolt.  He remembered the doll, because he'd had it afterwards, but he remembered it in the same shadowy way he remembered most things from when he was small. If he hadn't known he'd once had it he would have forgotten all about it by now.  He remembered the feeling of being cuddled, tucked in – thank God – and there was a firm conviction in the back of his mind that Uncle Vernon had no idea what he was talking about most of the time.

"You shouldn't have made me go back every year," Harry said suddenly, more sharply than he intended.  "They kept me in a cupboard, you do understand that don't you?  And it was more than that, as I'm sure you already know.  It was wrong of you to keep me there when you knew all along.  Children shouldn't grow up thinking they aren't loved!"

Dumbledore flinched.  Harry had never seen quite that expression on the Headmaster's  face before; the old wizard's eyes were clouded with sadness.  "I didn't have a choice, Harry.  You had to be with your Aunt Petunia, for your own safety."

"You should have thought of something else," Harry said angrily.  "Anything else.  You can't know how it felt to grow up like that.  I really thought I was worthless, for years!"

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, turned. "I'm so sorry, Harry," the Headmaster whispered, sounding pained.  "Believe me when I say that if I thought I could have done anything differently, I would have."

Harry blinked back tears and sighed resignedly.  "I know you would have.  It just doesn't seem fair."

Dumbledore nodded gravely and they continued their trek back to the castle.  "You know, Harry," Dumbledore said suddenly,  "most people don't have the opportunity to go back in time and give themselves a better childhood."

"I know that, Professor.  Thank you again for letting me use the Time Turner."

Dumbledore waved that away.  "You misunderstand me, my boy, I'm not asking for thanks.  I'm suggesting that other people deal with unhappy childhoods in other ways." He glanced at Harry.  "Quite a lot of people, for example, who know what it is to have an unhappy childhood, try to make things better for other children who are having a difficult time of it."  He gave Harry a half-smile.  "Of course, far be it from me to give unwanted advice."

Harry snorted.  "Of course."  But his mind was racing ahead.  Of course children in the present were suffering as he had many years ago.  Surely there was something he could do for them?  He tried to think of something he could do right now, today, to help.

"Professor, I don't suppose you know of a child who might like that Hogwarts castle to play with, do you?"

Dumbledore positively beamed.  "Of course, dear boy, of course!  An excellent idea!"

It was a very small thing, Harry thought, but at least it was a beginning.