AN

Hello again everyone! Here's the promised chapter 4. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks once again to my brother JeremyCamp-Stay, and my only reviewer for chapter 3, mysticruby.

Some reviewers on another site expressed concerns that Harry's actions in chapter 3 could have him facing kidnapping charges. I feel the need to clear up the reasons for Harry doing what he did.

Firstly, when he first saw Emily, he saw a little bit of himself in her, and he just couldn't help wanting to do whatever he had to to help her in any way he could. We've seen in the past that Harry has very strong protective instincts, and a deep need to help people.

Now, what he should have done was taken her straight to the police and let them find her parents, but Harry once again acted instead of doing the logical thing. I believe there are two reasons for this. The first is that Harry has always had a bit of a problem with authority figures. We have Professor Mcgonagall in first year not believing him about the Philosopher's Stone, and then the whole thing with Umbridge and the ministry. The latest problem came when Dumbledore, the one authority figure he trusted, ignored him for a year and then admitted to such a failure as not telling him about the prophecy earlier. The second reason is that Harry, having spent most of his childhood dealing with his problems alone and in silence, is a rather self-reliant person, tending to deal with his problems on his own instead of asking for advice or seeking help. So it's not really surprising that Harry would be reluctant to go to the police.

Understand, I do not defend Harry's actions, I am merely explaining my reasoning. What Harry did in chapter 3 was rash, stupid, and irresponsible. Now on with the story!

Chapter 4

Criminal or Hero?

It's dark, cold. Spells of all colors are flying everywhere, like some kind of fancy muggle light show. Sirius and Bellatrix taunting each other. A jet of red light hits Sirius' chest. As if in slow motion, he falls backwards.....

Then everything goes dark. A strange shift, and a jolt. The Death Chamber again, but it's empty of the battle there previously. The veil flutters in an unseen breeze. A whisper of voices is heard, too low to make any words out.

The veil shifts slightly, and Sirius walks out. He starts forward. He looks truly awful, far worse than even when he had just escaped from Azkaban. His face is literally as pale as a ghost's, and his eyes are sunken and expressionless, no longer the warm eyes full of mirth and mishief his godson remembered. His body is so skinny that it's possible to see virtually every bone in his body with frightening clarity.

His gaze sweeps the room, and he spots his godson to one side. He stares at him with sightless eyes, making him cringe in guilt and horror. Sirius opens his mouth and croaks, "Harry..."

In a small house in Surrey, Harry Potter awoke with a start, and bit his lip to keep himself from crying out.

The dream was starting to get worse. It was just like the dreams of the locked door from the year before - it was getting more complex every time he had it.

There was no doubt about it, Voldemort was messing with his head again. And the worst part was, it was working. Every time he woke up from one of those dreams, the guilt and grief was staggering

Blinking back tears, Harry tried desperately to gather his thoughts and come up with an idea. What could he do? He couldn't go to Dumbledore - he'd just insist on Occlumency lessons immediately, and Harry had no wish to have his head even more opened up to Voldemort. Perhaps he could talk to Remus? He might have some idea of what Harry was going through, and if Harry asked him, he'd probably refrain from telling Dumbledore.

Happy to have at least some sort of plan to get started, Harry glanced at his bed to make sure Emily hadn't been woken up.

Fortunately, she was still asleep. She looked so peaceful and innocent, snuggled under the covers on his bed, letting out a small murmur every now and then. Harry thought she looked rather like a sleeping angel.

He glanced at the clock - just a little after five in the morning. He sighed. Not likely that he'd be able to catch any more sleep, for his head was too full of thoughts. 'It's times like these I wish I had a pensieve,' he thought.

Just then, there came a noise from downstairs, making Harry frown in confusion. It sounded like the front door shutting softly, but the Dursleys never went out this early.....

In an instant, he was on his feet and pulling his wand from the drawer in his desk. If there were Death Eaters in the house, he did not intend to go down without a fight, especially with Emily there. He had to protect her.

As his anxiety and adrenaline spiked, he could feel his magic start to flow through him. This confused him greatly, as his magic usually only got like this when he was extraordinarily angry. He didn't have time to dwell on it though as he heard a creak on the stairs.

He crept quietly over to the door and started to ease it open, wishing desperately that his door didn't squeak, as it was sure to wake Emily.

To his surprise, the door opened with absolute silence, as if someone had put silencing charms on the hinges.

He peaked his head cautiously around the door frame and nearly fell over in shock. There on the stairway was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, obviously trying to tip-toe so as not to wake anyone. It might have actually been comical had the situation not been so serious.

Harry stepped out on the landing and leveled his wand at the man. "Stop right there," he growled.

Dumbledore stopped in surprise, and then chuckled quietly, his eyes twinkling merrily. "It's me Harry, ask me any question if you have any doubts."

Well he certainly had the Dumbledore eye twinkle and chuckle down, if he was an imposter. Harry racked his brains for a question that only the headmaster could answer. Then it hit him, and he almost laughed out loud at the very thought.

"When we were in front of the Mirror of Erised, what did you tell me you wanted more than anything else?"

Dumbledore, did laugh out loud, though quietly. "I told you I saw myself holding a pair of woolen socks," he replied.

Harry lowered his wand in relief. "What are you doing here at this hour, professor?" he asked.

Dumbledore looked suddenly grave. "I must speak with you about this little girl, Harry."

Harry was apprehensive. Why did he need to come this early to do that? Still, he might as well find out what the professor wanted to tell him. "Very well, she's sleeping, so let's go into the kitchen to talk."

When they were both seated at the table, Harry started anxiously, "What about her professor?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, you do realize what you have done could be construed as kidnapping don't you?"

Harry's mouth dropped and he stared at the Headmaster in amazement and not a little fear. He had not thought of that at all. His protective instincts had kicked in, and he'd thought of nothing but how he could help her. The thought that he could be considered a kidnapper had never even crossed his mind in the slightest.

"No professor," he finally said. "I did not realize that. I guess I forgot to think before acting again."

The Headmaster sighed sadly. "I thought as much. Do you think you can explain to me what happened yesterday, and why you brought her here instead of phoning the muggle police?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably and drew a deep breath. He might as well tell the Headmaster everything. Maybe he'd be able to help out. "Well," he said. "I guess it started about an hour before sunset, when I saw her walking through the park. She looked like she'd been through it. And then she tripped and didn't get up. She just sat there - crying, and I felt so sorry for her.

"Actually," Harry paused a moment to think. "I guess she reminded me a lot of myself as at that age. I always seemed to be feeling lost, alone, and afraid, and that's probably why I was so drawn to her yesterday.

"Anyway, I didn't think her parents would be far off, so I asked her which direction her house was, and we started walking. I fully expected to find a bunch of concerned neighbors or the girl's parents out frantically searching for her, but apparently not. By the time I realized that I should've given her over to the police, it was dark, and I was lost.

"We wandered around for several hours without ever finding a pay phone...." he paused. "You know, it's rather ironic that you can never find one of those when you really need one.

"Well we eventually got back here, but by that time she was asleep on my shoulder and I was so tired I could barely walk, so I just decided to figure things out in the morning. Now that it's over, I can think of a million things I could've done that would've been better, but it's too late now."

Dumbledore was not surprised by Harry's story in the slightest. The boy had an incredible need to protect and help everyone, and after his problems with those in authority in the past, it was not surprising that he was reluctant to go to the police right away.

He absently pulled off his half-moon spectacles and cleaned them with a handkerchief. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Turn myself in, I suppose. I was stupid, and I made several big mistakes. I let my 'saving people thing' get in the way of better judgement, so I'll have to face the consequences of my actions and hope for the best."

The Headmaster smiled happily, for that was exactly what he had wanted to hear from the boy. Most magical children would be begging him to use magic to get them out of whatever predicament they were in, but not Harry.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, my boy. While ordinarily I would agree with you, there are greater things at stake. You will of course recall our conversation near the end of term."

Harry looked slightly embarassed. "About that, professor...."

Dumbledore interrupted him before he could get started. "Think nothing of it. I imagine I would have done the same were I in your position. At the moment, we have more pressing issues. I am afraid I can't allow you to go to a muggle jail, as it would expose you far too much to Lord Voldemort. He still wishes very much to kill you, as you may well imagine, and we cannot adequately protect you while you are in the custody of the muggle authorities."

Harry's anger flared at this, and his eyes glowed slightly once more. "I won't have any special treatment, professor!"

The aging headmaster shook his head. "You fail to understand, Harry. It is not only for your good, but for the guards and others where ever you would be held. Voldemort would not hesitate to kill them all to get you."

This caused Harry to deflate. "I don't want anyone else to be killed because of me," he whispered.

All the twinkle went out of Dumbledore's eyes at that statement, and he gazed sadly at the young boy in front of him. No one should have had to go through what Harry had while so young, or ever for that matter. He should be worried about girls and homework, not dark lords and murders.

"Harry, look at me," he said softly. Harry did, and the headmaster could see the pain in those twin pools of liquid emerald. "Whatever you might think, it was not your fault. Yes, going to the Department of Mysteries was wrong, but what matters most is that your heart was in the right place. You would have given your life to save Sirius, it is not your fault that he was willing to do the same for you. Do not be so arrogant as to believe only you have the right to sacrifice yourself for another."

Harry didn't look convinced. "But what about Cedric? If I had just taken the cup, he would never have died."

Dumbledore's gaze never wavered, and he replied immediately, "Harry, think about what you are saying! You would rather be selfish than unselfish? You know very well that if you knew the cup was a portkey, you would've jumped to take it to protect Cedric, or virtually anyone else (even if you didn't know them I might add) from the fate waiting in that graveyard. Is that really such a bad thing?"

"And what about my parents?" Harry demanded angrily. "They died simply because I was born."

"Would you rather that you had died and they had lived?"

A single tear tracked it's way down Harry's cheek. "Yes."

"Harry, they loved you more than life itself, and they were willing to give everything so that you could live, even their own lives. Would you not do the same if you had a child?"

Harry's thoughts turned to Emily and the innocent, angelic expression on her face as she slept. He thought of what he'd do if he had a daughter like that and anything threatened her. In an instant he knew. He'd do anything to protect her, even if it meant dying himself.

He looked again at Dumbledore. He could see a measure of truth in what the headmaster was saying, but he still couldn't get past the thought that it was his fault. He decided to dwell on that later. There was still Emily to take care of at the moment.

"What are we going to do about Emily, professor?"

Dumbledore knew he was avoiding the issue, but as there really were some more pressing concerns to clear up, he didn't comment.

"The Order will take her home when she wakes...."

"NO!" Harry burst out angrily. "You may not allow me to turn myself in, but she is still my responsibility. I was the one stupid enough to get into this whole mess, and I'm going to be the one to make sure she gets home alright. Besides, she knows me a little, but she doesn't know any of you."

Dumbledore frowned slightly and opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off before he could speak.

"I mean it, professor, I'm not going to budge on this. Just give me a portkey or something so I can get out of there quickly once she's home. I've got a plan, I just need to look up their address in the phone book....."

Ten minutes later, Professor Dumbledore had reluctantly agreed to Harry's plan, and approved the short note the boy had written for it. "Best be getting upstairs, my boy," he said. "You'll want to get out of here before your relatives awaken."

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 6 AM, his aunt would be up in another hour. He immediately sprinted up the stairs as quietly as possible and crept over to his bed. Emily was still there sleeping peacefully.

He grinned down at her. She looked so sweet like that. 'We don't have time for this,' he reminded himself sternly. He reached down and shook the little girl softly, causing her to stir and blink owlishly at him.

"Hey sleepyhead," he chuckled. "Sorry for waking you, but it's time to take you home now."

She was fully awake in an instant, practically bouncing up and down in excitement, and drawing another chuckle from Harry in the process. "C'mon then, we'll leave in just a few minutes, first you need some breakfast."

It took a little over an hour to make it to Emily's house, as he couldn't take her by any magical travel, and he didn't have a car.

When they were several houses away, Harry stopped and looked around for a moment. This neighborhood was considerably more pleasant than Privet Drive, that much was certain. The houses were more spaced out, and everyone had larger yards. Each house was different from the last as well, instead of being one of a set of identical boxes.

He squatted down to Emily's level and looked her in the eye.

"You know which house is yours right?" Unsurprisingly, she nodded. "Okay, I want you to give this to your parents alright?" He handed her a folded over piece of paper.

She took the paper without question, though she looked confused. "Emily I want you to promise me something," he said seriously. "I want you to make sure you never talk to a stranger the way you did to me. This time it worked out alright, but next time it might not. If you're ever lost again, you head straight for a policeman. Will you promise me that?"

To his surprise, she did not nod this time, but actually replied. "I promise," she said quietly.

Harry grinned, satisfied. "Okay then, you better get home. I'll be right across the street until your parents open the door, alright?"

Emily looked confused. "Aren't you coming with me?" she wanted to know.

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I can't. It's time for me to leave. You'll be alright once you're home."

Emily looked immensely sad, and she gave Harry a small hug. "Won't I ever see you again?" she asked.

Harry was incredibly surprised by both the hug and the question. "You never know, I may turn up when you least expect it. Good-bye now, your parents are most likely very worried."

He stood up and crossed the street to watch as Emily scurried up to the front door of her house and stood on tip-toes to reach the doorbell. When the woman who was obviously Mrs. Stevenson answered it a moment later, she screeched in surprise and swept the little girl up into her arms.

"My baby," cried Mrs. Stevenson, as her husband came running up behind her to join the family hug. "Where have you been?"

Emily just looked up at her happily. "I was with Harry mummy."

Mr. Stevenson started in surprise. "Harry? Harry who?" he asked.

His daughter screwed up her face in thought. "I can't remember his second name, daddy." She pointed across the street to where a teenage boy was standing. "He's right over there."

Mr. Stevenson squinted across at the boy on the other side of the street. It was too far to make out any features, but it looked like whoever it was was grinning madly.

Emily wasn't finished though. Before her father could say anything further, she handed him the note Harry had given her. "He said to give you this, daddy."

Both parents looked at the note curiously. It appeared to be written on some sort of old fashioned, yellowing parchment, and was addressed to both of them in emerald green ink. Mr. Stevenson opened it carefully, and they read it together.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson,

I found this little one wandering in the park all alone. I believe she's yours?

Other than a few scrapes and bruises, she seems to be just fine, but she could use a bath and some rest.

Please be more careful with her in the future. A child is the most precious thing in the world, and Emily is no exception.

Best Wishes,

Harry

In unison, they looked back up towards the teenager across the street, but he had vanished while they were reading.

Harry reappeared in his room at number 4 with a small pop. As he sat heavily on his unmade bed, he reflected on what he had just seen.

Mrs. Stevenson looked truly awful. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and there were dark circles under them. It looked like she hadn't slept all night, and her blonde hair was all unkempt from lack of care.

Thinking back to how Emily had looked when he found her, Harry saw some definite similarities between mother and daughter.

Harry couldn't imagine how awful it must've been for Emily's parents when she had disappeared. Sitting at home all night, not knowing where your daughter was, sounded like a living nightmare. No parent should have to go through that, nor should any child have to be separated from their parents like Emily had.

'And yet,' thought Harry. 'That's exactly what's going to happen if Voldemort is not stopped. Hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions will die, and there will be many who will lose loved ones. Many will lose children or become orphans.

'And it's all up to me to stop it.' Harry had never felt so lost as he did at that moment. How was he supposed to defeat the greatest Dark Lord of the age? He was just a kid, not even that great at school. If someone like Albus Dumbledore couldn't do it, then what chance had he?

A sudden resolve came over him. He may not have much of a chance against Voldemort, but he had to at least try. For Emily, he had to try. Voldemort may kill him, but he planned to give him one hell of a fight before he died.

AN

There it is! If I get lots of reviews, I'll get chapter 5 up by Monday afternoon. If I don't, I'll have it done and up by Tuesday evening at the latest.

May the Flame of the Phoenix guide you

-HaP