Hope did what she could for Harry Potter. She made up the couch with care and took the soft and fuzzy blanket from her own room to tuck him in. Harry seemed unfamiliar with the action, having the blanket carefully brought up to his chin and over his shoulders. But he tolerated it mildly, green eyes and green blanket matching in the yellow light of the lamp.

"You can leave the light on, if you want," Hope offered softly, "in the morning we'll go see the authorities about getting you to a proper home, so try and get some sleep, alright?"

"I could… maybe, if you wouldn't… stay?" Harry asked in a raw whisper, voice almost lost to the fluffy fibre he pulled over his mouth.

It shouldn't have come to this, Hope thought. No boy should have had the barest of kindness from a stranger and think it was the best he was likely to get.

For the briefest moment, the hopeful flicker in his expression fanned an ember in her soul. A determination to take him in, and to do better for him than she had managed for herself. A vision of Tyler took his place on the pillow and with a heartbroken wrenching, the ember failed.

"I'm sorry Harry, I can't." Hope tried to soften the blow, but it stung to see the pain reflected back at her. "But someone out there will, and you'll have the kind of home you deserve, with all the love and care and feeding-up that you need. Sleep now, and in the morning, we'll take the first steps to finding that home, alright?"

The boy merely shrugged, and turned away.

"I'm just down the hall if you need anything." She said as she rose, sorry for causing him pain, and certain that he'd be better off with someone else. "Sweet dreams, Harry."

If Harry's dreams were sweeter than they'd ever yet been, they still left him bitter and sorrowful in the morning.

The porridge didn't interest him much and he nibbled the toast despairingly as Hope called various agencies and asked questions about temporary placement and group homes and medical examinations. Every person Hope spoke to seemed to want an extraordinary amount of information about Harry, very personal information, and Harry was greatly relieved that Hope gave only general answers and assured them 'we'll give all the pertinent information to the official case worker, if you can just start a file and assign one, we can make an appointment with them.'

Hope then left Harry to his breakfast as she prepared herself for the business ahead. A quick loose braid corralled all but the most tenacious of curls, and she wrapped the base of it with an odd contraption that Harry hadn't seen before, a coil with a short thong of leather and a finger-long fat wooden needle at the end. He watched her as she moved expertly around the small space, like he was trying to make an imprint of her in his mind.

And then she was dashing down the hallway and muttering under her breath as she reached the very top shelf in the narrow closet, pulling out a latched wooden box. Hastily rifling through the contents, she pulled a few things free and with a sigh closed the box and put it away again.

The shoes she set before his feet were not new, and she brushed the dust away impatiently, blinking rapidly as she helped him put them on over a pair of her own socks. "Can't have you walking around without shoes, now, can we?"

Harry looked down at the grey sneakers with worry. "I can, pay, give them back, once…"

"No Harry, you keep them as long as you need them. they'll do more good on your feet than they can in my closet." Hope answered firmly, though her eyes still watered traitorously. "Are you ready to go? Its nearly time."

Harry didn't answer, couldn't. But he rose, stepped experimentally to the door and waited for her to open it.

They arrived at the police station a half hour before the appointed child protection officer was expected to arrive, and Hope had to argue with the secretary for a full minute before a man popped his head out a door and asked what the problem was.

"I've found a neglected child and want to file a report, sir." Hope answered before the secretary could obfuscate.

"And I've told her to make a report to child services, Detective Davin."

"Where it might get lost in the mountains of paperwork? Besides this is a case of criminal neglect and that is your job, sir, is it not?" Hope fired back, hackles raised, while Harry did his best to hide behind her full skirt.

"So it is, Ma'am, why don't you step into my office, and I'll see what I can do for you?" Detective Davin answered, mildly amused and gesturing them to follow him.

Hope laid out what she knew, offering Harry opportunities to speak for himself and speaking for him when he shook his head no. The envelope with one set of the photos she had taken the previous night were passed over and Davin looked a little grim after he'd flipped through them. But he softened his tone and offered Harry a gumdrop from the bowl on his desk.

The report was completed and Davin had assured Harry that he would personally be looking after the case, but that Harry would need to submit to a full medical exam to make sure he wouldn't have to return to his former guardian's care. The case worker arrived, agreed to take him, and they signed the paperwork as Harry clung to the folds of Hope's skirt with one hand and the detective's card with the other.

"Good luck, Harry." Hope said, patting the trembling head gently.

Sorrowful green eyes broke her heart again as he was led away, and she turned away to smother the lump that rose in her throat.

"If there's anything you need, feel free to call me." Detective Davin said stoutly, handing her a card with his name and phone extension.

Gathering herself, and straightening up Hope replied, "thank you," and left the precinct.

Friday chores were insufficient to overcome the impression Harry had left on Hope's mind.

As she shopped for the next weeks groceries, she pondered which kind of biscuits might be Harry's favorite, whether he liked bananas or apples, if he'd ever tried the ginger beer she liked best. And though none were on the list she'd made, a few of each made their way into her basket.

Frighteningly few coins remained as she handed the cashier her total, but it was only a half week to her next paycheque and she'd managed with less before.

Hope was not a nervous woman by nature, careful and diligent and always over-prepared. Wary of strangers, cautious of too-good promises. To her few friends, she was generous and kind. But there was a corner of tenderness that she had locked away, walled off behind high gates of deep sorrow. A place she had preserved for another little boy, a shrine for the only one who had ever seen that gentle-love-look, which Hope was most capable of giving.

Yet now, a new face and name floated before her, as she folded up the green blanket, remembering the eyes, filled with hope.

"I'm not the mothering kind." Hope said aloud, as though it might shake away the sour feeling in her gut. "I never was."

The mugs lay in the drying rack, the room had been tidied and swept and Hope was staring at a fresh sheet of notepaper. Her list of chores, of grocery items and every possible job for the next week's work had been notated, struck off and otherwise completed.

But the sense, that something had remained undone, undecided, still rankled her. She sipped at the cooling cup of tea disconsolately, and finally put pen to paper again.

Cons:

Single

my job

flat- too small

he deserves more than I can give

Pros:

Hope's pen paused. Her mind chewing over the many seemingly insurmountable problems. No. Harry would be loved and cared for by a family that could give him everything. She was sure such a sweet boy wouldn't be overlooked for adoption. No. He was better off.

That decided, Hope turned the page, set the pen aside and settled on the couch to read.

The words however, had lost their magic, and though she tried, she couldn't make sense of the paragraph, though she'd reread it thrice. The bookmark reinstated, and the book was slapped irreverently on the coffee table.

"Detective Davin?" Hope asked over the phone, trying to hide the embarrassment of calling so soon behind a brisk tone.

"Yes, may I ask who I'm speaking to?"

"Hope Williams, sir, from this morning?"

"Ah, yes. How may I help you, Miss Williams?"

"I was… It's not my place, but I was hoping you could tell me how Harry's doing?"

"Ah…" The detectives tone was not encouraging and Hope's heart dropped. "Well, it's a bit of a difficult case miss. The family is claiming that he'd run off months ago and they don't know where he'd gotten the injuries."

"You can't be thinking of sending him back!" Hope asked furiously.

"Not if I can help it miss, but it might be difficult to make the case, you see…" a sigh crackled through the line before the detective continued. "As you're the one as brought him in, I don't suppose it'll hurt to tell you. He's been uncooperative with the hospital staff, won't speak and we've been called back to restrain him twice this afternoon. Throws things at anyone who gets in the room, how he's still doing it with his hands tied to the bed, I don't know…"

The detective's voice faded off thoughtfully for a moment, adding, "it'll be difficult to make a case without any evidence, the family doesn't want to give up the stipend for raising the kid, and other than taking him to an institution we're rather out of options, he can't be sent to a group home in this state."

Hope sank into the nearest seat, horrified. the ache in her stomach gnashed to life and she felt as though she'd be sick, but swallowed it down and forced out a question, "where is he?"

"I'm not sure that's-"

But Hope cut off his objection. "Where is Harry?"

"Children's hospital in Brickfeld."

"Thank you."

Hope pressed the phone into the receiver to disconnect the line and dialed a second number from memory.

"Lydia? Lydia, I need a favor."

"You alright Hope? You sound fluttered." Lydia answered, her prim voice crisp on the t's.

"I need a little legal advice." Hope pressed on hurriedly.

"What did you do?"

"I haven't done anything, Lydia, not yet anyway."

"That sounds awfully serious." Lydia chirped back brightly. "What mischief can I help you with then?"

"Transfer of custody papers."

Hope heard the rapid tapping of keys and smiled as she pulled the notepad closer again, flipping to a previous page. Lydia was a curious cat but a good friend.

"For who?" Lydia asked, business-like now.

"Harry Potter, birthdate: July 31'st 1980"

"Mmhm… and the name of the present guardians?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and Petunia Dursley. I don't know their birthdates though."

"That's alright, I'll leave it for them to fill out. And the new guardian?"

Hope paused, long enough that the tapping stopped and she imagined Lydia's sharp suspicious look. "Uh… me."

A loud lip smack answered her statement.

"You can't be serious."

"Dead serious Lydie."

"You're only twenty-two, you've got a whole life to live! Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's a terrible idea, but it's the right thing." Hope replied, equal parts exhausted and exhilarated. "I can't let him slip through the cracks. Not if I can do anything to help."

"This hasn't got anything to do with…" Lydia trailed off, leaving the name unspoken.

"I can do this, and Harry needs me." There was a new certainty in her voice, one that disregarded the entire list of reasons against it that she'd written up. "Will you help?"

"Of course. I'll have it printed right away."

"You're a dear, I'll be there in a few."

She was halfway out the door in a minute, but returned in a second, walking briskly back through the flat with her shoes still on to grab the soft green blanket from her bed. Holding it to her chest she ran back out the door, locked up, jogged down the flights of stairs as though her feet were winged, and pulled the car from the car park and into late afternoon traffic.

A brief stop at the law firm Lydia clerked at and Hope had a thick envelope in her possession that would determine the future of herself, one lonely boy and unbeknownst to either, an entire world they didn't know existed.

"One step at a time, one crazy, truly insane, step at a time." Hope muttered softly under her breath as she walked down the pavement to the hospital entrance.

She was directed to Harry's room with surprise, but she didn't wait to answer the nurse's queries over her business there. A steely haired woman sat on a chair outside room 13, flipping through a folder and occasionally shaking her head. She looked up at Hope's approach.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Harry." Hope answered simply.

"And you are?"

"His new guardian." Hope said. "You are?"

"Gladys, I haven't seen anything about a new guardian in Harry's file." The woman replied flipping quickly through the papers she held, somewhat baffled.

"I just arrived to make the application. I'm hoping you can put me in touch with the aunt and uncle, I have papers for them to sign."

"This is most unusual, miss. You are very young, and you don't know how these things usually go. Your application must go through a thorough vetting process before we can even begin to consider you for a temporary placement, there would need to be a trial before he could be officially removed from the care of his family, and the child is not stable, I'm sure if you saw him, you'd realise you're not the right person to take charge of him."

"I know exactly how this works Ma'am." Hope pulled her shoulders back, raised her chin at the doubtful older woman and spoke with an authority that made Gladys visibly start. "I was approved for permanent placement four years ago, I intent to convince the aunt and uncle to sign over guardianship voluntarily. As for being the right person, that should be Harry's decision."

Hope passed the woman a folder containing the previous applications and the various signed approvals.

"On your head be it." The woman muttered, looking over the new set of papers with a critical eye and waving Hope through the door.

"Harry?"

"Am I dreaming?" Harry whispered anxiously. He sat up slowly, pulling against the restraints on his wrists, his eyes swollen and bleary. "This must be a dream."

Hope unbound the restraints quickly, laughing a little as the first thing Harry did was pinch himself and then launch into her arms.

"You came back."

"Yeah, I did." Hope couldn't say more then that, simply held the trembling child, and rubbed little circles into the back of the sweater she'd given him the night before.

"Just like magic." He whispered into her shoulder. "I wanted… but I was stuck. And then you came anyway."

"I was worried about you. The detective said… well a lot of things, and I wanted to see if you were alright."

"Is that all?" Harry asked, a crackle in his voice as he slumped from her embrace and landed cross-legged on the bed with a plop.

"Well, no. I've got to ask you something." Hope replied, keeping her voice even and moving a chair so she could sit across from him. "This morning you asked if you could stay with me, do you remember?"

Harry nodded, ducking his head.

"Is that what you really want? I want you to think about this for a while before you decide, ok Harry? I'm not rich, I haven't got much to give you."

"I don't need presents." Harry answered, as if she'd accused him of something terrible. "And I don't eat much, besides, I can help out, clean, and cook. I'm good with plants, but as you've not got a garden… maybe you don't need me."

Conscious that he was watching her from under his eyelashes, Hope shook her head slowly. "I think you misunderstood me, Harry, my needs are not the question. I want to make sure you grow up with everything you need. And if you come live with me, things might be a little tight sometimes, I won't have the money to make things as comfortable as you deserve."

"Well…" Harry said, sharp eyes finally meeting hers, "you're the first person who ever thought I deserved anything."

Hope hid her sorrow at his matter-of-fact tone, directing the conversation back to the issue at hand. "It's your choice, Harry, and I won't be hurt if you want to wait for a good family. I'll help as much as I can until we find a good fit, I promise."

Harry nodded, twiddling his thumbs and wriggling his toes inside the purple socks. "I think you're a good fit." He whispered shyly to the floor.

"If you're sure, then we'd better go tell Gladys, there's some things I'll need to sign, and you still need to be examined."

"Do I have to?" Harry whined, then -noticing his petulant tone- froze, suddenly fearful.

"I'm afraid so, they can't release you until they are sure you'll be ok." Hope explained patiently.

"You'll stay?" Harry asked timidly.

"Of course, as long as you want me to."

Gladys was happy enough to sign off on temporary care pending the transfer of guardianship, glad to be off early and to leave the unexpectedly compliant child with the young woman who had miraculously tamed him. It may have been an accident, or perhaps rather not an accident, that the Dursleys address was left on a slip of paper in the copy of the forms she gave Hope before she left.

Hope stayed with Harry, holding his hand through the jabs, wearing a lead-lined coat while he was x-rayed, and sitting on the opposite side of the curtain, where Harry could see her scuffed boots as the doctor looked him over.

When he was re-dressed, a nurse showed them to a room with a light box on the wall and a set of x rays.

"A few healed fractures on the forearms, one on the fifth rib, here." The doctor pointed at the spot for both Hope and Harry to see the faint line. "And one on the left knee, just there. That one's a bit older, isn't it Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you remember what happened?" Hope asked.

The little fingers squeezed her palm, and he explained. Dudley had tripped him in the schoolyard in kindergarten.

"You've healed up well, I must say." The doctor nodded at him, clearly impressed. "Even the rib, are you sure that was just three weeks ago?"

"Yes sir." Harry answered stiffly.

"It's alright son, I believe you, but I must say it's a near miracle that it set so well, and without any bruising on the lungs. Well, Miss Williams, I've prescribed a regimen of vitamins and iron for the boy, and I'd like to you to bring him back in a month to see that its working, any other questions?"

Hope asked a few questions about diet, nodded and made notes in her notepad, the sight of which made the doctor smile broadly.

"You're in good hands now, Harry-lad, and I expect you'll be fit and healthy as a horse in no time."

Notes:

Thanks so much for all the comments so far! And to answer 'guest's question, the blurb at the beginning of chapter one are just my own words for the theme on which this story is written.