A.N: Hello again, sorry this is so late. I was able to slam down the writers block that had erected itself stubbornly for my novel. I kind of lost track of time... Anyway, I'll answer questions, but do not feel bad if I did not answer yours. Ff.net is still not delivering all of my messages, I'm going to send them an e mail to day. Anyone know how?


On another topic, it took a bit of drafting to get through this. I'm going to be a brave writer, and acually write the whole conversation that Dumbledore has this the McClain's about Devlin being Harry. Ugh, that is going to be painful, but be exited, it will be fun for you. ::Mummbles about unfairness::


I, myself, can't wait to write Godric seeing Devlin. Nor for Hermione and Ron to properly get to talk to him. How am I doing on reactions, do they seem weird? I am going to be rewriting this story, once I reach a neutral, non cliffhanger, point.



IMPORTANT: I have heard that Ff.net will not be allowing thank you's to reviews on Ff.net. I am not sure if this is true or not, but will be listening to it until it has proven faulty or not. Because it is also said that you will be removed. Therefore; please go to my livejournal (link can be found on bio) to read review answers, and we will use that for a while. Review here, but if you have a question you want to get answered, post it in both places. Thank you.


ON WITH THE STORY.

It snapped open, just as the flames in the hearth changed to green. He found himself falling through the door, into the hallway, that he had just been ramming into. He fell painfully on his chest, and tentatively touched a heat flaring rib. It was not broken, but it ached.


When James finally edged into a standing position, and managed to grab hold of the door frame to hoist his body weight up, he caught a glimpse of the head bobbing in their fireplace- it was the headmasters.



"I've been trying to get through for forty three minuets now. What happened, it kept blocking me." Lily told him of the whispers, and the door. Dumbledore laughed outright, his eyes bursting with cheer.


"Ah well, I suppose it is only fair that he play that trick. He must think I was telling you a bit quickly. I'm sure he'll be here himself quite soon. Back on track, I believe there is someone waiting for you at the hospital. It will be a few moments before you may see him, but I feel I should not leave you out."


By the expression on Lily's face, James knew, she was worried it was either Remus, who had taken to helping the world see his kind in better light, and who many wished dead for that reason. Or, Sirius, who worked as a Auror, and had to deal with the crazy, stupid people who thought they could be the next Voldemort.


"Who is it?" She managed to get out, paling with every second the Headmaster did not answer.


"Not Remus nor Sirius, though Sirius is here...I must leave now, it seems we have other company. Come by floo, and wait for me in the front office."

Both nodded, though their minds were still unclogging from the fact that none of their friends were hurt.





ST. MUNGOS




At some point or another, they had pulled themselves asunder, but to ask him how long he had stayed in his Godsons embrace, he could not answer.

All he knew was that the Headmaster was in front of them, and he, Sirius, was sitting at one of the chairs beside the bed.


Devlin was smiling, but Sirius could not bring his face to join the child's. The sensation of happiness, and unsettled confusion, pulled at each other, so that Sirius was left in a kind of numb limbo.



Devlin, Harry, was talking about a Mother and Father, smiling joyfully up at the old man, and telling him some tale, but it was not the Mother and Father, that Sirius knew.



It was not the two adults, they were talking about, that had, and still were, searching for Harry. It was not Lily and James; it was someone else, someone Sirius could not imagine hugging the boy before him.



Then, still in that limbo, Sirius watched the door open, and Ronald Weasley enter. Devlin shrunk back, then seemed to consider inching forward, but he did not.



Ron, eyeing the child for only a moment, and nodding at him sadly, motioned for the Headmaster to follow. The young Weasley had recognized the boy, but something was holding him back from outright saying something. Something was not right.




ST. MUNGOS- MCCLAIN'S



Again, they were sitting, and still had not seen their son. Ryan was thinking what they could legally do to these people, since he was a lawyer, and Elizabeth was leafing through a book she had brought for her son.


They had been allowed to talk to the caring doctor, who had assured them that their son was fine, and a bright young man.



Elizabeth, for her part, did not believe him. His smile had been to wide, and he had not been looking at any charts. And Ryan, well, he was still running over legal issues, when the old man finally opened his mouth to speak.



"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I would like to talk to you about your son. I have seen him, and I too, believe he is fine. He did not seemed to be in any pain, and he was smiling." Apparently, those last words were wrong, because Ryan sighed and raked his hand through his hair.



"Don't judge him on that! He'll never tell you if it hurts!" He sounded defeated, as if this had happened before. Mr. Weasley was nodding, agreeing readily. Mr. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was staring strangely ahead.

He was not smiling, nor though did he seem to be smiling.
The expression looked oddly like the far away, thinking, one that came over Devlin so often, Elizabeth found herself noticing.


"Mr. Weasley tells me your son is adopted?" Ryan wondered briefly when the young man had been able to talk to this man with out him seeing, but he blamed it on his preoccupation of thoughts.



"Yes, why does this keep coming up. He is our son, and that gives us just the same rights to see him!" The old man held up a calming hand, halting Elizabeth's words.



"Of course it does." He said, and Elizabeth found herself calming under his gentle gaze. Ryan was still furious.



"Well then, sir, if you agree, then you should also agree to us seeing him!" There was contempt laced into that whisper, contempt for a man they barely new. Yet, Albus thought, parents will do anything for their child.



The man had stood up to him, had been willing to threaten him, and Albus was smiling now. These were indeed Devlin McClain's parents, and worthy of the title.


"Of course!" He said cheerfully. "But I would rather discus this out of the child's ears." Instantly Elizabeth was alert, thinking that there were reproductions with the injury.


"Nothing is wrong with his arm, be relieved, but I would like to discus...his name." That was an odd way to put anything, both parents thought, but they listened.



"Devlin McClain...is your sons adoptive name?" They nodded, and had gone pale. The name, Ryan thought, he's trying to tell us gently that someone is claiming him. His stomach plummeted down, and his throat tightened with angst.



"You are the boys parents, and have every right to him. I assure you that I understand he to, has the right to choose." He paused, as if deciding to delay any longer.



"He has wonderful, green eyes; you have told Ronald Weasley the same. I once knew a child with those eyes, his name was Harry Potter, and he.. He had a very interesting story."