The embrace was warm, and gave him the quiet feeling of protection. As Harry Potter, he had yearned for this kind of comfort from others, it had been the greatest reward someone could have presented him with, to hug him. And, oddly, from this man, it felt as if was still the best reward. The little voice that had so often had fallen pray to Aunt Petunia's fowl words of his parents not loving him either; rejoiced. They had missed him, he was crying for him. They had loved him; James would not let go of him. He was afraid to lose him again.

"Don't ever do that again, Harry." Devlin did not bother to remind the man that he did not go by Harry anymore, the man, he was sure, barely realized he was not speaking to a baby, or an adult.

"I wont, I promise." He whispered into the man's ear, as he was pulled closer.

"Never, ever, ever, ever." His mother used to say those words to him, when he would wake up with a nightmare, and ask her never to leave; he thought they worked just as well with James.

Suddenly, he found himself pulled slightly away from the dark shirt that had blocked his vision, and looking instead into the glossy brown eyes of his father. The eyes, that reminded him so much of a deer. For a moment, his mind slipping back to the past, he remembered.

It was wrapped in red paper, with an equally red bow sitting innocently on top of it. Waiting, the four-year old, Devlin knew, to be ripped apart. He knew better then to touch it before his father came back with the camera though, so he tried to guess what might be inside it.

It was perfectly square, that meant that the present was in an empty box, meant so no one could guess what was inside. Drats!



His two, although almost three, year old sister tried to grab at the present as his mother passed by the counter holding her. Elizabeth laughed and pulled the infants hand away. "Want it." The baby said, pouting.

"No, that's Devlin's remember? When he's done opening it though, I think Devlin has a present for you." Yes, indeed, the four year old had not been stupid when they had passed by a toy store the other day. He had pulled at his father's shirtsleeve and said, quite persuasively, that it would not be fair to Deirdre that she did not get a present.

His father had risen on eyebrow, ready to explain to his son that he was not being unfair as it was his birthday, but his mother, beside him, had given him a warning glance. "Good idea, Devlin. It is very nice of you to think of your sister like that."

So, up in his closet, high on a self where Deirdre could not reach, was another present.

His father had come back with the camera; he smiled into it, and tried to jump for his present. No luck, he wasn't reaching it. His mother soon handed it to him though, after they all had walked into the living room.

He stared at the ribbon for a moment, glancing at the hand wrapped gift. This happened every year to his parents; they urged him to open it. He smiled, then, slower then a most four year olds, ripped off the paper.

Devlin had been right; there was another box to open before he could reach the present. He left the box for a moment, carrying the ribbon in his hand, and walked over to Deirdre. She giggled as he pressed the ribbon onto her hair.

"Say thank you, Deirdre." She did, all the while pulling the ribbon out and moving it in her hands. "Now go and open the box, Devlin." His mother urged, watching him from the couch.

He sat down beside it, and pulled the box away. For a moment, he stared transfixed at the stuffed animal inside of it. It was a deer, which was clear the antlers and brow fur told that much.

It was a strange present, the four year old realized, looking up at his parents. One did not walk into a toy store and buy this animal, a teddy, sure, but a deer with antlers, no.

"Its like the one in your book, Devlin." The child smiled, the book he had read to him every night, the book that had that strange deer in one of its pictures. He pulled it out, showing it to the camera, and then hugged it.

"Prongs!" He said clearly, in the voice his parents knew meant it was never going to change.

"That's a very good name, Devlin." His mother said, as he joined her on the couch. Later, they would wonder were he had gotten the name, and dismiss it as his imagination. After all, he did already have a stuffed dog called Padfoot.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, you scared us. Where have you been, has anyone hurt you?" Devlin shook his head. He would wait a moment more before correcting this man.

"No, I'm fine. I'm not hurt. 'sept what I came here for, but they fixed that." He added as his father's eyes caught the bandage on his arm.

"What was it?" James asked, and when the child hesitated, he looked up to Sirius.

"A snake bite." Sirius offered. His voice was stiff, as if he feared that if he let it relax he might say something that he wanted to keep secret. "Like he said, they fixed it."

DUMBLEDORE

For the fist time in half an hour, one of his audiences raised their hands. Elizabeth. Dumbledore nodded for her to speak, following with a trusting smile.

"You said Sirius Black was innocent. That Harry Potter knew this; the man had even asked if Harry could live with him. Why would Mr. Potter be disappointed?"

"Well, I can only say he appeared disappointed. I cannot assure you that he really was. I will say, just as the Hippogriff is very polite, so was Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter, I also heard, did very will with Buckbeak in the class. Did you know, Mrs. McClain that a Hippogriff can be ridden, and can fly? That animal can reach heights about the castle. And, they are such elegant landers; Buckbeak could have landed on a roof of the castle, with out so much as a quake. Very interesting animals." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, as Ryan raise his eyebrow, not quite believing the hints the man had lain out.

LILY

Lily, Hermione, and Remus, watched as Ron whispered fiercely to the man. The man paled at one sentence, and seemed to reconsider his insults. He glanced back at them, almost in an apology. Then, before anyone of them could protest, Ron led the man out of the lobby and up a pair of stairs. The same stairs James Potter had run up.

Remus wrung his hands, Lily chewed on her lower lips, and Hermione looked unseeingly ahead in thought. No one spoke. No moved to follow Ron. Although outwardly all coped differently, all of them were not too sure they wanted to follow Ron. Would they find Harry, or Devlin, hurt? A thousand possibilities rushed through them all, unable to be stopped.

Then again, none of the thoughts were all that new. Their friend, or son, had been missing for years now, all of these question had been asked before; it was just worse when the answer was up a few flights of steps, and you still couldn't see it. When you still couldn't be sure.

Lily shuffled her feet, as if fighting down the urge to stand up. Remus startled at the noise, and frowned at her. "Lily, you can go, you know? He is your son, no doubt James has already found him."

She looked all the more doubtful at the mention of James. Should I intrude on them? Her emerald eyes asked. "Someone has to keep James from crying openly, he'll regret it later." Remus offered, smiling kindly.

Lily looked to Hermione; she hesitated, and then nodded. "He should see you together." She said, a strained smile creeping over her features. "The McClain's should see you together also. Go ahead, you should."

Lily stood, and made her way to the stairs. She paused at them, looking up them in an almost foreboding manner, and then bravely took the first two steps as one.

The halls were brightly lit, and without any furnishing. Lily glanced from one door to the other, peering closely at the numbers. In dawning awareness, she realized she did not know the door number in which James had gone. She paused for a moment, glancing around for a nurse to ask. No one. She peeked into a room, and spotted a nurse, who was making up the crisp white beds.

"Excuse me miss?" The nurse turned to her, smiling warmly.

"Yes?" Her voice was tired, but only seemed to give her more of a comforting appearance. "What can I do for you dear?"

"I'm looking for..." She paused, what should she call this boy? Harry Potter, or Devlin McClain? "...Albus Dumbledore. Could you direct me to where he might be?" Yes, surely Dumbledore would be with her son. No need to spread panic with the name Harry Potter.

"The next level." She paused her, and pulled out her wand, whispering a spell that conjured up a list. "Take the door labeled private, which will lead you down a narrow hallway, and then go into...I think it is door 9. The nurse at the desk can tell you. Will that be all dear?" Lily nodded, and made her way up to the next level.