The usual disclaimers that none of the characters or happenings that HP fans recognize from the books or movies are mine; they belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.

Hii, in addition to the one about Zar Malfoy, I'm also working on one where Harry and co are in their late twenties/early thirties. As the title implies, all of them deal with tragedy and all incredible odds, even deeper than they ever faced at Hogwarts; it'll take all their Gryffindor courage to overcome it; in addition, a piece of Harry's past shows up unexpectedly which will change the course of Harry's life forever. This chapter is very, very angsty with lots of tears, so be warned…enjoy!

All Incredible Odds

By: CNJ

PG-13

2: Harry and Janice's Heartbreak:

Harry:



"…so, Charles will be done with his second year in two months," Ron told me via the fireplace almost four years later. "Andrew's just a few years away…" he laughed.

"So's Bea," I told him as I ran a cloth over my bariol, a magical instrument, then carefully put it back in its case. "She has a knack for Quidditch, you know."

"So does my daughter," Ron nodded. The Weasleys now have a daughter, Anne, who's seven. Bea just turned nine a few days ago.

We chatted a while longer about our careers and that Ron's chess team had come in third last week. I've been working on new melodies and occasionally some of the magical melodies can be used to help the Law Enforcement of the Ministry crack mysteries and unsolved crimes.

Also, Hermione's younger sister, Aileen is up for possible election to the Minister of Magic. We're keeping our fingers crossed that she gets it.

Once Ron and I disconnected, I put my bariol case away. Just then, an owl flew in and dropped a letter on me. I picked it up and wondered who it was from. It wasn't from any of my friends or family; it was an unfamiliar name of a social service agency, a muggle one. I opened it.

It said something to the effect of that there were two young girls who'd been abused who might be the daughters of a cousin of mine; would Janice and I be willing to take them in at least temporarily? They were now in foster homes, but needed a permanent placement soon.

Oh, I mouthed. That cousin could be only one person. Dudley Dursley, since I know that Trevor and Hermione live here in the magical community and have a son, Evan and a daughter Geneveve.

Dudley is actually Trevor's half-brother since Dudley's dad had an extra-marital affair and that affair produced Trevor. Trevor and Dudley have never met.

Dudley…what can I remember about him? I think you should hear this out because it's hard for me to tell it. I last saw Dudley when he and I were twenty-one and his parents were killed in a car crash.

After my parents died in Voldemort's hands, I was sent to live with Dudley and his parents, all of whom were muggles. They had a limited understanding of the magical world and magical people. Aunt Petunia has been Mum's older sister and had often bullied her when they were growing up.

Dudley was very spoiled and often bullied me. Neither my aunt nor uncle made any effort to stop him. The summer I turned fifteen, Uncle Vernon and I had a blowout; he beat me and I ran away from there. That was the last I saw of my aunt and uncle since my dear great-aunt Miranda took me in.

But when I was twenty-one and got the news of my aunt and uncle's deaths, I saw Dudley again, but he was still unkind to me.

I also saw Aunt Marge, who was Vernon's younger sister. She'd confided in me that her brother had bullied her also. Aunt Marge and I forged a new bond that remains close to this day. That funeral was the last I'd seen of Dudley. Now here I was, being brought partially back to the past. I've hardly even thought of Dudley these past fifteen years or so.

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"Sure, let's see what we can do to bring them here," Janice told me later on as the three of us ate dinner.

"So what do you think of getting two new sisters?" I asked Bea.

"It'd be nice," Bea smiled at me, carrots mashed between her teeth. Janice tells me that she has my wide smile. I'm so lucky to have them both in my life.

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Ellen:

"Eva?" I called. "Margo?" I ran through the house, searching for the girls. They'd better not be hiding! I thought. I let out a shriek when I saw my husband sprawled on the couch, downing a caseload of beer.

"Dudley Dursley, what are you doing here?!" I yelled.

"Waiting for you…" he drawled. "We need to talk."

"About what?" I dropped my bag right there on the floor. "Where are those kids?!"

"They took the kids away…" Dudley told me flatly.

"What are you talking about?!"

"The girls are not here anymore," Dudley said slowly as he stood up unsteadily. "Those social service people took them away this afternoon while you were out on whatever shopping expedition that couldn't wait."

"Why?" I felt myself turn cold. Had some neighbor spied, then snitched on us, claiming that we "beat" the girls? Had those little brats told some neighbor that we hit them sometimes and about Dudley's drinking?!

"You figure it out!" Dudley spat. "Somebody squealed on us! So we have to go to court and prove we're not lousy, abusive parents!"

"Well, great, we'll need a lot of luck with that since we can't afford some expensive barrister!" I shot back. "It's just great, so the neighbors are talking about us…" I stalked out to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Dudley came in and put his hands over my shoulder. I stood stiffly at first, then he slowly pushed me into a chair.

"We'll get them back," he told me. "Doesn't your dad work in a judge's office?" I nodded. "Then ring him and have him get us a barrister, explain that we're short on cash and will pay him if we win."

I did as he told me. Dad wasn't too receptive at first, but offered to see what he could do. "How do you and Dudley get yourselves into these messes, anyway?"

"I don't know," I snapped impatiently. But I was relieved that at least Dad hadn't just slammed down the phone on us. By the time I hung up, I convinced myself that yes, we'd get the girls back and our family would be back to the way it should be.

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Harry:

I was just coming back from a trip to the Ministry where I'd delivered a string of melodies in a pensieve when a familiar car pulled up. Janice! I was startled to see her here in the middle of the day. She stopped by the curb and got out. She was distraught!

"Janice…!" I faltered, feeling my own breath grow rapid and shallow; my body broke out in a sweat.

"Oh, Harry…" she sobbed once I got into the car. "It's Beatrice…she's…had an accident…"

"Oh, Merlin, no!" I swallowed in a sudden painful throat squeeze. "Please don't let it be…"

"She's at the hospital right now," Janice drove on, wiping her eyes. "A neighbor's pond…fell in…"

"Oh, Bea…" I felt my own eyes well with tears.

The next few hours seemed so unreal that it's totally jumbled in my memory. My friends came over the next few days and offered support to Janice and me while Bea lay in a coma. But nothing would make us feel better except the knowledge that Bea would come out of it. Janice and I wept on and off, our hearts screaming in pain.

The days melted into weeks. Before we know it, it was late April and Bea still lay comatose. Never, ever had either one of us felt so helpless. I know I never had, not when a classmate of mine Cedric Diggory had died in front of me back when I was fourteen, not when my godfather died, not even back when I was a kid and the Dursleys locked me in their cupboard under the stairs.

The fact that she looked like she was sleeping terrified me even more. True, magical hospitals are a lot less imposing than muggle hospitals, but there was still a lot of machinery that made me just shake to hear and see it.

"Bea…" I shakily whispered to her a month later. "Over and over, your mother and I wonder…" I swallowed. "…if there was anything we could have done to prevent you from falling into that pond…if you can hear us…oh, if your grandparents could have met you, they've…" sob. "…l-love you…" I added in a keen.

This was too dreadful for words. This is a bad dream, I willed it. I closed my eyes a minute, then slowly re-opened them. Harry, this isn't a dream, I thought. A soft voice in the doorway told me that it wasn't a dream.

"God…how could a sweet innocent…" Trevor quavered from the door, where his thick brows were slanted. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" He came over and we hugged, sobbing freely.

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I came in just as Janice was reading to Bea, a book that Ron's mum had written some twenty years ago. I put a hand on her shoulder and helplessly, watched our beautiful daughter. It was almost ten at night, so we stood up to go. Our friends and I had been rotating bedside attendance so someone was always with her. But as we stood, I heard a flat low hum and saw that the disk over her bed had gone a flat gray…oh…Merlin! A mounting terror fell over us as we took in the meaning of the hum and the gray disk.

"Beatrice…!" I howled.

"Oh, Merlin…!" Janice's anguished wail collided with my howls in a haunting crescendo. We barely registered the nurses and medics rushing in.

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No one needed to tell us; we knew. Our dear, dear Bea was gone.

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"Back into the air her soul may go…" the witch who was leading Bea's funeral intoned solemnly. My friends, wife and I watched as the witch turned our dear daughter's ashes into a gas and flowed them into the air. It was my five friends, Janice, Jill, and my great-aunt Miranda and my aunt Marge as well as Hermione's mum, sister and Ron's mum and two of his brothers, Bill and Charlie. None of this seemed real. I was clinging onto Ron and Janice, fearing that if I let go, I'd collapse in a heap right there on the ground. Ron himself wept on and off. So did the others and I.

The others had been swell all week, checking in on Janice and me. Both of my aunts brought over enough food to last us a month. But tonight, Janice and I were heading home alone.

"Harry…" Ron followed me to the edge of the field where the ceremony had taken place. "W-will you and Janice be…?"

"I really don't know…" I rasped, wiping my already swollen eyes. I had to keep pushing my glasses up my wet nose.

"I didn't hear…I'm sorry…?" Ron leaned close.

"I…I'm not sure…" I told him. Janice and I apparated to our front yard, then slowly, painfully let ourselves into an empty house. We stood in sad silence a long minute.

"Tell m-me…" I whispered shakily. "That this is a bad dream." Janice shook her head, her mouth trembling as fresh tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, Janice!" I whimpered as I clung to her and started to weep…again. I don't think I've ever shed so many tears at once. My brows and mouth hurt and I felt sore all over, but that was nothing compared to the pain Janice and I were feeling inside.

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Bit by bit, all of us returned to work within the next week. It was still a nightmare, especially coming home and knowing that our daughter wouldn't be there. But a month later, my mobile rang and it was the social worker who'd owled us earlier. I motioned Janice to the mobile and we put it on speaker.

"So, the girls, Eva and Margo, are ready to take in," their social worker, Wendy told us. "Are you ready for them?"

"Yes…" we both told her. She then told us she'd have to do a home study on us, then an observed visit with the girls to which we agreed. Once we'd disconnected, we looked at each other. We knew they'd never replace our beloved Bea, but they'd be her younger sisters, since Eva was eight and Margo was seven. I sensed these girls needed love and hoped Janice and I could give it to them.



More later; you'll get to meet Eva and Margo; Harry and Janice will heal and have another chance at parenthood again!