Author's Notes: The penultimate chapter! Eep!

Hand-Me-Down Clothes

Chapter Ten

'Do you think he'll like it?' asked Dumbledore.

'I have no idea,' said Minerva McGonagall, poking her head into a tall blue wardrobe. 'But it has to be better than sleeping at the bottom of your bed.'

'If you'd seen what he was sleeping in before..' Dumbledore replied, a brief flash of anger in his eyes, Minerva McGonagall looked at him piercingly.

'How bad was it Albus?' she asked.

'His bedroom was a cupboard,' Dumbledore revealed, his lips tight.

'Why didn't you ch-' McGonagall stopped her angry sentence short.

'Why didn't I check up on him before?' Dumbledore finished for her, bitterness apparent in his tone. 'Because I'm a blind old fool, I thought only of his safety from the DeathEaters. I did not look to his own family to harm him.'

'They didn't..?' Minerva looked horrified.

'No.. the occasional roughness but…. No, not, not what you're thinking.'

'Thank Merlin,' the Professor of Transfiguration breathed. 'Albus, I did not mean what I said. You cannot be held responsible for the actions of his muggle relatives.'

'I should have been keeping an eye on him! I was the only one who could!'

'That is not so, and you know it! You could not have known, you did not know, and it's in the past. What you are giving Harry now counts, what he needs, a family, love, and compassion,' she spoke firmly and quite passionately.

'You are quite right of course,' said Albus, after a moment of pensive thought. 'And I must thank you for once again clearing my head and opening my eyes to the truth of a matter.'

'Well,' said Minerva, 'it must be admitted that without me your public image would not be quite so good.'

'How modest, my dear,' smiled Albus.

'I seek to ever speak truth,' she replied, her lips turning upwards into a slight indication of a smile.

'Work harder,' Dumbledore murmured, just as they heard a door slam shut in the distance and then a spectacular crashing noise that echoed ominously down the corridor. It sounded like Dumbledore's extremely valuable Ming vase may have just become a literally priceless antique.

'Oops,' said a boy's voice. 'Sorry Mr Dippy, it was the draught from Granddad's open office window.'

'Dippit,' replied a muffled, slightly miffed voice. 'Now if you could just untangle my frame from the drapes…'

'I can't,' said Harry, sounding concerned. 'Fawkes is in there somewhere, I don't want to squish him.'

'Call for a house elf,' mumbled the aged voice of Headmaster Dippit.

'Peggy was with me,' said Harry, now sounding very guilty. 'I think she's the moving thing under the rug.'

'Moving thing?' said Dippit, worried. 'That's no house elf boy, is that a snake? My Vena it's a snake, help! Some one heeeelp!'

'It's not a snake, Mr Dip Peat, it's Granddad's creeping vine.'

'Creeping vine! Do you know what those things do to portraits, boy? Do you! They tear you up and rip you, eat you, gnaw you, I'm going to die!!'

'You're already dead,' pointed out Harry, unhelpfully. 'Hang on, I think I can grab the plant.' There was some rustling and then a very disgruntled and piercing squawk.

'Oops,' said Harry again. 'Sorry Fawkes.'

'Heeelp!' cried Headmaster Dippit, panicking. 'Something is tickling my knee!'

There was a lot of noisy creaks and some unhealthy crunching sounds.

'Methinks we should join the party,' said Dumbledore to his deputy, she glanced at him sharply.

'You adopted him,' she reminded him. 'I don't believe I have an invitation!'

'You don't need one,' said Dumbledore, 'You're part of the family.'

'I'm touched,' she replied dryly. 'Now go rescue your Grandson before the walls of Hogwarts collapse around us.'

'Where are you going?' he enquired.

'Away,' she said succinctly, and left by floo.

Dumbledore grumbled something under his breath, it sounded suspiciously unflattering.

'Harry James Potter-Dumbledore,' he said ominously, as he stepped out into the corridor. 'What have you done?' and had the satisfaction of seeing a very nervous looking Harry jump practically out of his skin. 'My vase!' he exclaimed, upon seeing its ruin, he tilted his head 90 degrees to better see what was under the drapes. It looked like Sir Urchfont's armour was trying to gather itself back together again, and had mistakenly caged a distinctly ruffled Fawkes inside the body piece, Dumbledore looked at the little black haired boy standing beyond the pile.

'Hi Granddad,' said Harry and gave his best ingratiating I'm-innocent-at-least-until-proven-guilty smile.

His Grandfather raised a bushy white eyebrow, there was a silence as he fumbled for something appropriate to say. Nothing came to mind and so he began to laugh - a deep appreciative rumble. Harry looked a little worried.

'Grandfather?' he queried, standing uncertainly on one leg.

'Come here, Harry,' his granddad said, beckoning with his finger. Harry hopped over his home made obstacle course to stand by the old man. 'Try not to make a habit of this, Harry,' said Dumbledore and then with one wide sweep of his arms righted everything that had been wrong in the hallway.

'This way Master Potter-Dee,' he called out merrily as he swivelled round and started down the hallway. An open mouthed awe-struck little boy obediently followed him. They stopped before one of Granddad's many doors, this one Harry did not recognise, it had been polished recently though - the round brass door handle reflected a distorted image of Harry's nose.

'Welcome!' his Granddad cried, 'to your very own bedroom!' And the door, which had apparently been reading the script, swung open before them, without so much as a push.

The first thing Harry noticed was the colour scheme, the four poster bed in the centre of the room (of more moderate size than Dumbledore's), had light blue covers and darker drapes. The huge rugs that covered the polished floor were ruby red and had great big lions pawing at invisible foes, whilst the wallpaper, was a refreshing green with a high border of Seekers chasing their Snitches.

'Look up!' prodded Dumbledore, all aglow with anticipation. Harry lifted his eyes skyward to the ceiling stretched high above, and was immediately delighted to see a blue summer's sky with fat lazy clouds drifting along. A toy plane whizzed past overhead, propellers whirling, it buzzed frantically as it flew through a cloud and drew two white streamers after it.

Dumbledore had at least stopped short of decorating the furniture; a wardrobe and a chest of drawers stored Harry's clothes, a big painted toy box sat at the end of his bed and a bedside table that stood on long ribbed skinny legs, not unlike a bird's, with a lamp floating just above it, round and smooth, like a dragon's egg.

Harry padded slowly across the room, as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes, his feet carried him across to the window on the far side of the room, typical of Hogwarts; long and wide with many panes of glass, letting plenty of the August sunlight enter the room. The wide window ledge had a big fat cushion on it for sitting and watching the edge of the forest and the excellent view of the Quidditch pitch could perhaps afford plenty of excuses to watch Quidditch being played. The little boy tugged the curtain tie absently, the curtains, falling to the floor were an unfortunate purple with yellow edgings, but this didn't seem to bother Harry.

'Harry,' said Dumbledore, 'Come over here.'

Harry obediently swivelled and returned to Dumbledore's side, his Grandfather had walked over to his bedside and had taken down a framed picture from the wall.

'This is your mother and father, Harry,' Dumbledore said gently, and handed the picture to the little boy with messy black hair. Harry took it and looked very solemnly at his parents for the very first time in his young memory, his mother was holding him in her arms, his father had his arms around them both, they were doing a silly little half-dance, and laughing as if they knew how silly they must look, they looked happy and in love, kisses being exchanged freely, baby Harry chuckling and pulling his mother's hair. Harry could not remember ever being kissed and held like that, and he felt sad for some reason, though he knew he ought to be happy to see them so, he supposed it was because they were dead and he would never know them, never get to meet them.

'I wish they were here,' he said suddenly. His granddad squeezed his shoulder gently, understanding. Harry looked over his room, which was really quite bare, the furniture did not take up much room and he had little enough belongings to fill it up, but it was light and airy, extremely colourful and most importantly, it was his! Abruptly, and much to Dumbledore's surprise, he burst into tears.

'Harry!' exclaimed Dumbledore, unpleasantly shocked, he guided Harry to the bed and pulled the slight child onto his lap after only a moments hesitation. 'What's wrong, child?' he asked, wrapping his arms securely around Harry and rocking him soothingly. Harry didn't reply, but after a while the storm of tears abated and he sat with his hands clenched around Dumbledore's robes, face buried in the rich fabric.

'You don't have to sleep here if you don't want to,' said Dumbledore finally, tentatively trying to find out what was wrong. Harry shook his head in Dumbledore's robes. 'Is it your parents?' he asked.

'No,' came Harry's voice, slightly muffled. 'A bit, maybe. I like my room.'

'Good.'

'You won't leave me, will you?' Harry asked suddenly.

'No dear boy, I will never leave you, I made a promise, remember?'

'But I'm not your real Grandson,' whispered Harry miserably, his secret fear surfacing.

'Yes you are,' contradicted Dumbledore. 'You are my Grandson, Harry, and I love you very very much. And that will never change!'

Harry rubbed his eyes, tears trickled down unheeded as he looked up at the bright blue eyes of his adopted Granddad. 'I love you too,' he said and shyly lifted his face to unexpectedly kiss the old man and fling his arms around his neck, in a strangle hold of a hug, Albus Dumbledore returned the hug ferociously.

Harry drew back, 'for ever and ever,' he said solemnly, his Granddad looked befuddled so Harry elaborated. 'I won't leave you either, not ever, and I won't ever ever ever stop loving you.' He grinned. 'Isn't this cool? We have a family!'

And then, without further ado he slipped from his Granddad's lap to chase the toy plane around the air.

Things were not so cheerful in the corridor. Fawkes had sat patiently for twenty minutes before he starting to get fidgety, and fifteen minutes before he became rather irritated, but even later that that he was furious! He screeched indignantly from his very uncomfortable cage, and banged his beak fruitlessly against Sir Urchfont's breastplate. After some time had passed, he gave up complained vocally and instead, all that could be heard was a repetitive clanging noise, that echoed down the hall way, and a suit of armour that felt like it was suffering from very bad indigestion.


The first night Harry slept in his own bed, he was very aware of how big it was, and how large his room was, and how far away his new Granddad was, but he was determined to be brave and bit his lip pulled the covers up high and tight and watched the stars twinkle up above on his enchanted ceiling.

Later, when little Harry had been fast asleep for quite some time, Dumbledore slipped into the room and tugged the covers straight and then bent and lightly kissed the scarred forehead good night.


'What are we doing today?' asked Harry, curiously, as his Granddad straightened his new wizarding robes that had arrived by owl that morning.

'Today, young man, we are going to an all-wizarding village called Hogsmeade!'

'Can we fly there?' Harry asked eagerly, his Granddad chuckled.

'We will be going by carriage.'

'Carriage?' repeated Harry, looking unenthusiastic. 'Is that some sort of cabbage? Do we have to eat it?'

'It's a vehicle Harry!' Dumbledore laughed.

'Oh,' said Harry, abashed. His Granddad looked up and him, and grinned.

'Can you do your shoelaces up, Harry?'

'Not very well,' he replied. 'They always come undone.'

'Try,' encouraged Dumbledore, and Harry obediently bent to tie them, the tip of his tongue stuck out and a intensively concentrated look upon his pointed face. It was a highly amusing thing to watch. 'Done?' asked hid Granddad, as he stood again, Harry shook each foot experimentally and watched with a dismal expression as they flew loose.

'Nooo,' he complained.

'Perhaps we should get you buckles,' said Dumbledore, bending to tie them for Harry, revealing his own silver shiny buckles.

'No thank you,' said Harry politely, not quite managing to hide a look of horror.

Their trip down was uneventful, it was a glorious day, typical of August, periwinkle sky with horse tail clouds stretched along the distant horizon, the Dark Forest a verdant green and the sun a gentle warmth on the back of their necks.

Their first stop was the Post Office, for the school owls were on holiday in Ibiza, and Harry was delighted to see his first ever owl up close, one was so small that the Manager let him hold it in his hand, it was very soft, and tickled.

Their second stop was even more exciting, a sweet shop called Honeydukes, and not only was Dumbledore perfectly happy for Harry to go in there, he even said he could buy some sweets to take home! They trooped in, and as soon as the shop owner, a chubby lady, saw them she went very pink (or pinker) and said that Harry could have whatever he wanted, the little dear. So Harry tried out Droobles best blowing gum, which was more fun than he could ever have imagined, Cockroach cluster, which he wasn't so keen on and Puffballs which after tasting one lifted him up into the air for several seconds, so that he could wave his feet around above the ground. They bought some of each, and some which Harry hadn't tried but liked the look of, and wanted to share with the other Professors he had made friends with in school. He particularly thought that Mr Snape would like the bat wings the picked up from Zonkos, and that Mrs McGonagall would love the glasses that made your eyes look as if they'd fallen out (much better than muggle springs, they had a charm that came into effect when you stared at something for longer than 6 seconds without blinking).

However, in The Three Broomsticks, Harry didn't have such a good time. He was drinking his half pint of iced ButterBeer with evident enjoyment, a big moustache of golden foam on his upper lip and laughing at Granddad who was trying out the 'RealRamshorn' with a child's enthusiasm. When a man with high heels on (or so it looked to Harry), white robes with a teal hem and a huge peacocks feather stuck in his perfectly permed hair, bounced up to them, and in a very loud voice said:

'Why, it can't be Harry Potter?!'

Dumbledore was unpleasantly surprised, he looked up mouth open to remedy a possibly disastrous situation when Harry got there first.

'How do you know my name?' he exclaimed, surprised.

'Why, my dear boy, you are famous, don't you know!'

'No,' said Harry, flatly, the stranger ignored his reply, and instead turned to the rest of the small cosy pub.

'Everybody! See who our good old Headmaster has hidden away here! It's the Boy-Who-Lived!'

There was an excited murmur, and all at once a small crowd gathered around there little corner table, people peering at little Harry nosily, trying to see his scar. Harry was bewildered, and looked behind himself to see what they saw, of course he didn't, but several of the women present gave little sighs and said 'Aww!'

Irritated, Dumbledore, whilst pleasant as ever, was slightly short with those who wanted to see Harry's scar, and absolutely forbidding with those who asked after the events that fateful night.

When he finally managed to escape, Harry and bags tucked under his arm, he was very bothered about what had happened, he was going to have to do a lot of thinking, something would have to be done. This just couldn't keep on happening.

He held Harry's ankle in the carriage home, the little black haired boy, not too disturbed by the events in the pub, had eaten too many levitating puffballs.


On Monday, September the 1st, the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were due back, and on the Friday before hand, just as things were getting nice and hectic at the castle, the ever-wise Headmaster decided to announce to the world that he had adopted the Boy-Who-Lived. His timing was, as many professors agreed, typical of his nature -completely bonkers, mad, certifiably insane and probably brilliant for some reason their simple brains could not hope to comprehend. (The last being slightly sarcastic.)

'Why do we have to?' Harry asked again, as his Granddad absentmindedly tied his shoelaces together, glancing at the tall Grandfather clock, which currently read, Time to think up a very good excuse.

'Because you're rather well known,' replied Dumbledore, understating things by just a bit.

'Why?' asked Harry, who was choosing a rather irritating time to be curious.

'Remember what I told you, about the night your parents died?'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'But-'

'Harry!' exclaimed his Granddad, an eyebrow twitching as he retied Harry's shoelaces separately. 'The scar on your head is the remainder of a curse that killed everybody else except you! Not only did you survive, but you destroyed Voldemort. That is why we are doing this.'

'But why-' Harry stopped, his Granddad had just given him a look. 'Okay,' he said brightly. 'It'll be fun.' And smiled hopefully up at the old man.

Dumbledore chuckled, it was not in his nature to be irritated at little boys with messy black hair and big green eyes for long. 'We are running late,' he explained unnecessarily, as the big clock's hand swung to: Might as well go into hiding.

'Why are we having it in the Great Hall?' asked Harry, curious again.

'It's big,' explained Dumbledore lightly. He stood, resplendent in midnight blue robes, his white beard luminous, his boots a surprising lime-green, and held out his hand for Harry, who sprang lightly to his feet and did a twirl so that his new Wizard robes swung out in a long arc.

'I'm Superman!' he crowed, jumping into the air.

'Um,' said Dumbledore who had never quite got this reference.

'Is Superman a wizard?' Harry asked suddenly, his Granddad was stuck and twiddled his beard.

'I'm afraid, Harry, that Superman may just be a muggle invention.'

'Who's Mr Muggle?'

Dumbledore coughed. 'Muggle Harry, is a term that wizards use to describe non-magic people. Your Aunt and Uncle for example, are muggles.'

'Oh,' said Harry looking very disappointed.

'But you Harry, are a real wizard, and you can really fly!' pointed out Albus, trying to cheer the boy up.

'But I'm not a hero,' said Harry sadly, innocently naïve of his own status.

'Well,' said Dumbledore. 'There are many heroes in the Wizarding world too, Harry, real ones, and if you like I shall tell you about a hero every night before bedtime.'

'Promise?' asked Harry.

'Promise,' agreed his Granddad, wondering when, if ever, his young Grandson would ever grow out of the need for promises.

They were trotting down the stairs to the Great Hall now and as they got closer they became aware of the noise echoing up the hallways, it sounded like many, many people were talking, shouting and calling out, creating a great racket in the school hall.

'We'll go in the teachers entrance Harry,' said Dumbledore, guiding the boy around the corner, briefly away from the clamour of sounds, into a small side door that led to a tapestry hung behind the Professors table in the Great Hall.

'Headmaster,' said a snide voice from behind them. It was Professor Snape, Harry beamed and gave a little wave that the tall man did his best to ignore.

'Severus, how many?'

'Too many to count, and they're impatient, the mood isn't all good, some think your interference with the Boy-Who-Lived, is too much.'

'Oh well,' said Dumbledore, not seeming overly perturbed.

'Are you sure it's wise to take the boy with you?' Severus Snape could not quite hide a distasteful curl of his lip.

'Boy?' asked Dumbledore quietly but with menace.

'Harry Potter.'

'Yes I do, I think it will help the mood and let them see I'm not hiding the boy away in a cupboard,' Dumbledore frowned suddenly, his reference had been entirely spontaneous.

'Well,' said Snape, his tone sounding quite unwell. 'Up to you.'

'Yes it is, Severus.' An ominous pause in which Snape looked discomforted. 'Now, aren't you going to say Hello to Professor Snape, Harry?'

'Hello, Professor Snape,' Harry obediently repeated. 'How are you today?'

Snape's jaw welded itself together, he nodded curtly at the boy, at Dumbledore, and then ran off with a swirl of his cloak, Harry looked extremely envious.

'Well,' said Dumbledore, 'Here we go, Harry.' He took Harry's hand, and took a huge breath that made his feet dance, Harry laughed at his Grandfather, and together they stepped through the tapestry into the Great Hall.

For a moment it seemed that no one had noticed them enter for the dreadful din continued until someone glanced their way and stared, mouth open and sentence abandoned. Then, like a breaking wave the silence spread throughout the Great Hall and a strange stillness descended on the hundreds of people present. In the deathly hush that now filled the hall, Dumbledore led Harry up to the middle of the table, and sat him on a tall seat that had been placed next to the Headmaster's own, and Harry could easily see everyone gathered below, looking as if they had been struck dumb by one of Granddad's spells.

The silence continued, and Harry looked up his Granddad, worried, the powerful man smiled reassuringly, looking completely comfortable and at ease, and Harry relaxed, if Granddad was okay it must be all right.

'Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,' Dumbledore greeted the assembled throng. 'May I introduce Harry Potter.'

Hundreds of heads turned to stare at Harry, who immediately felt terrified, never before had he experienced this kind of awe-struck spotlight, he looked again at his Granddad and saw the old man smile encouragingly.

'Hello,' he said timidly, but in the quiet of the hall his voice carried easily, he gave a little wave, afraid to say anything more, and immediately hundreds of flashbulbs went off, blinding him.

'If you could take a seat,' said Dumbledore, and all the grown ups looked around to see that ornate golden seats had appeared in many many rows all the way to the back of the hall, there was promptly a rather brutal rush to get the best seats, near the front.

When everybody was settled, feathers in hand, poised over naked parchment, eager, greedy looks on their faces, a Witch with yellow robes to match her hair holding up her wand like a baton and with a sign proclaiming WWN hovering above her head, Dumbledore beamed jovially around and began to speak.

'As many of you are already aware, I have recently removed young Harry from his muggle relatives care, -'

'Why'd you do that, Dumbledore?' called out a wizard whose tall pointed hat (and loud voice) made up for his short stature.

'Questions will be taken after my short statement,' said Dumbledore, ignoring the muttering audience. 'As I was saying, I have removed Harry from his previous guardians and taken over that role myself.' He paused as whispers spread the length of the sunlit room.

'I have also,' here he paused again, as if sensing the bombshell he was about to release, 'legally adopted Harry.'

There were outright cries of astonishment this time, and Harry was becoming quite concerned, what was wrong?

'I can't think of anything else you need to know,' said Dumbledore, blithely assuming an innocent tone of voice. 'So.. Questions?'

Immediately a lot of hands were thrust into the air, waving for his attention, Dumbledore pointed at a pale witch wearing dark red robes, whose banner proclaimed "European Concerns".

'Yes,' she said, clearing her throat importantly, her voice surprisingly deep. 'Why is it, Sir Dumbledore, that you have removed the Boy-Who-Lived from his muggle relatives home?'

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, who, whilst knowing this question would come had debated how to answer it. 'I'm afraid that Harry's magical abilities made his muggle relatives nervous.'

There was a brief ripple of interest, the witch continued. 'Are you saying Harry is showing signs of powerful magic?'

'I'm saying his magical abilities made his non-magical relatives, nervous, nothing more.'

The journalists digested this, quills wrote and rewrote the Headlines for tomorrow's newspaper, Dumbledore meanwhile, pointed to a Wizard whose groomed long beard had been liberally treated with Sleakeazy.

'Hem, Daily Prophet. Why have you been chosen to guard the Boy-Who-Lived?'

'I think I'm the best possible choice, considering,' replied Dumbledore placidly.

'Don't you think your manipulation of Harry Potter, is both unfair and dangerous?'

'I do not. I am here to look after Harry's interests and will protect him against any who would do him harm,' whilst said mildly, it carried bite.

A witch in magenta robes, who was sucking the end of her quill, raised her hand and then called out, 'Considering who you are, your job, your living situation and your status in the wizarding world, do you not think you are completely unfit to take care of a little boy? After all, he needs love, family, protection -not exposure- and most of all, he'll need you to be around, and we all know how much time you spend wondering the globe, Dumbledore. How can you look after the Boy-Who-Lived 's interests when you're in New Zealand for a Mugwumps convention, or attending a court hearing, or a Sock Appreciation Society meet!'

'Hear hear!' cried many others in the hall.

'I am perfectly capable, Ms Skeeter,' said Dumbeldore, confidently. 'My colleagues, and friends will be glad to take care of Harry for me, whilst I am away at these events.'

'Oh, excellent,' said the same lady, voice dripping with sarcasm. 'So Mr Potter will be handed around to strangers when he's not wanted, or is inconvenient!'

Another murmur filled the hall, this one louder, unpleasant looks were turning most faces sour, Dumbledore allowed his frown to enter his voice.

'Harry will be a part of a loving family here, there will be no strangers, no danger and no neglect.'

'So you say, but you live in a school, Dumbledore! A thousand pupils attend Hogwarts, what's one more little boy to you? I doubt you'll even know he's there!' Ms Skeeter had an attentive audience now.

'Not so,' denied Dumbledore. 'This little boy is my grandson, it makes a great deal of difference.'

'Isn't it asking too much of you?' asked another wizard, this one with a heavy American accent, broad shoulders and bushy moustache. 'You are old, and as already pointed out, you have more than enough children in your care for two thirds of the year, plus your other duties take up a lot of your time, can you really say that you have the space for another complication in your life? Can you give Harry Potter what he needs?'

'I can, and I will.'

The crowd disagreed, vociferously, Ms Skeeter jumped into the breach again, gleefully holding her large garish quill aloft.

'We will not accept you as the Boy-Who-Lived's guardian! The Wizarding world will do right by Harry Potter! We will see him happy and well-provided for, and these things you just cannot provide!' she spoke the last almost airily, and people began to clap in agreement, a rhythmic beating.

'You are in error, Ms Skeeter I am fully capable,' said Dumbledore, calm despite the spiralling attitude in the hall.

'Whether you are or not,' said Ms Skeeter spitefully. 'We will not have you!'

The clapping had gotten very loud a steady, derisive beat, a pounding noise announcing to the world their opinion, their belief that Dumbledore just wouldn't do, he had gone too far this time.

Harry had grown steadily more alarmed throughout this meeting, listening to the comments in horror, but finally towards the end, he had become angry, and now, furious, he stood up on his chair and stamped his small foot. Of course no one heard, the clapping was so loud that even Ms Skeeter's comments were unintelligible.

'Shut up!' he shouted, unheard. 'Be quiet!' but still no one paid him any heed. Harry had never been so furious in his life! How dare these people be rude to his Granddad, how dare they doubt him? They had no right! With a wordless shout he lashed out, his magic bursting forth, suddenly and powerfully setting alight everybody's Quills, Ms Skeeter's hair also unfortunately caught fire, which resulted in a few frantic moments of beating, and frantic flapping.

In the oppressive, surprised silence that fell, everyone turned to look at Harry whose fists were clenched by his sides.

'Leave my Granddad alone!' he shouted, tears of rage in his eyes. 'He's the best Granddad, ever! I'm not going anywhere, he's my Granddad and you can't take him away from me!'

The astonishment on everybody's faces was plain. The little boy had been so quiet they had forgotten he was there. They reached for new quills absentmindedly, shaking off the ashes of the old from their parchment notes.

'You can't!' Harry emphasised again, less loudly this time, as his anger faded and tears loomed large on the horizon.

'Alright Harry,' said Dumbledore, soothingly. 'Come here, no one's going to take me away.' He reached across and lifted the stiff, upset boy into his lap. 'Nobody.'

Hundreds of cameras flashed as Albus Dumbledore hugged the Boy-Who-Lived close, hundreds of photos would tomorrow, proclaim to the world what the two already knew: They were a family, a fiercely protective one, and woe betide anyone daring to interfere!


A/N: I have suffered the worst writer's block ever with this chapter. I still don't know if I hate it or I… hate it. I am reeeally sorry for the looog delay, but if it helps, at some points I was incredibly desperate! I love you guys for your continued support and fantastic reviews, I really don't deserve you!

There were so many reviewers that I have decided not to reply, it would simply take me too long and I want to get this uploaded! I would, however, really like to say, 'hi, I'm the mad writer who had an atrocious update history' so if you think it's a good idea, I'll set up a yahoo group or something, at least then I can get some help with my writers block, I'm sure you'd all have loads of ideas!

I would like to write a sequel (it was only this chapter that was so bad), and will be looking into writing the first chapter soon. The final chapter of this fic will be up in 2 weeks time (it's already written! WooHoo!).

Have some iced Butterbeer on me! ;-)