A/N: Hello again my wonderful little readers! At long last, chapter ten has arrived. I hope it can meet up to at least some of your expectations, seeing just how long you've had to wait for it. At least it's longer than most of the other chapters, but that's because I couldn't find a good spot to break it. Anyway, the rest of my notes are at the end of the chapter, so for now, I'll just leave you to the story.

Enjoy!

EDIT: Intro and one or two details in this chapter have been changed in order to not fuck up the time-line. Nothing major that affect the over all plot, though.

Chapter ten – Reunion

Harry was sitting at the headboard on his bed, knees drawn to his chest. It wasn't even close to curfew when Harry had gone to bed claiming he was tired, but he really just wanted to get some space. Thankfully none of the other boys had gone up after him; he was fairly sure that if he heard one more person belittling him he would hex them. He was practically shaking with the amount of dread, anger and betrayal he felt right now.

This was easily one of the worst days he had ever had. It had started out fine enough, but then that ruddy Goblet had to spit out his name. Not only did everybody but Dumbledore and maybe a couple more now believe he had somehow entered himself, he knew that whoever it was that had put in his name more than likely wanted him dead. And from what he had heard about the tournament, his chances of getting out alive was very low.

A muted crack brought Harry out of his musings and a moment later he saw the head of an old, frail looking house elf peek through the curtains, looking up at him.

"Young Master Harry Potter, sir? May Dipsy speak with yous?" she asked and Harry nodded.

The little elf climbed up on the bed and bowed to him with a big but yet grandmotherly smile on her face.

"I is Dipsy, house elf to the Ancient and Noble house of Potter. Dipsy is very glad she has finally been allowed to visit her Young Master Harry Potter, sir."

The teenager stared at her.

"You… you belong to me?"

"Yes, and Dipsy is very proud to be part of the Potter family."

Harry groaned and burier his face in his knees. "Great, I have a slave and didn't even know it. Hermione's gonna kill me."

Dipsy tilted her head. "Why would this Hermione you speak of kill you for having an elf, Young Master?"

Harry looked up again. "Because you are a slave. It's not right and I agree with her. You should be allowed to be free and paid-"

"Oh please, Young Master! Please don't free Dipsy! Dipsy's poor old heart would not be able to handle the shock-"

"Okay okay! I promise I won't free you until you ask for it yourself, alright? Just promise me that if you want to become a free elf that you'll let me know, okay?"

The little elf sniffed and dabbed her eyes on the corner of her pillow case. "Yes, Dipsy can promise that if it means you won't free her. Dipsy gave the same promise to your mother after all."

"You did?"

"Why yes. Mistress Lily was horrified when she learned about elves. She kept trying to free me until Dipsy explained that elves magic is very unstable and being bonded to wizards helps us."

Harry blinked.

"Really? Your magic is unstable? I wonder if Hermione knows that…"

Dipsy patted his knee. "Not many wizard and witches knows it, but if you want to Dipsy can explain it for your Hermione. It is very noble of yous to fight for us, but trying to free us is not the way to go. Not only do most elves view it as a dishonour to be freed, but not many of us would be able to handle it without hurting ourselves or our surroundings. Dobby can handle it because he is young and strong, and Winky relies on alcohol to dampen her powers and senses."

"Winky? The house-elf who belonged to Mr. Crouch?"

"That's her. She now works in the kitchens of Hogwarts."

"Oh. And she's drinking? But not because she's depressed?"

"Oh that might very well be a big part of the reason, Young Master. But if she hadn't been drinking she might have accidentally hurt someone."

"Is… is there any way I can help her so she doesn't have to get drunk?"

The old elf looked immensely proud of him. "You cans, Young Master. If you were to offer a free elf to bond with you their magic would stabilize again."

Harry chewed on his lip, frowning with the conflicted feelings he had. "But then she would become a slave again."

"No, Master Harry. Only if you make her a slave. She could be more like family, like Dipsy is!"

He closed his eyes with a sigh and leaned back against the headboard. "I guess… but it still feels… I dunno. I need to think about it, and maybe learn about the current bond between the two of us before I do anything."

"That's alright, Young Master. Take all the time you need. Now, would Young Master like to tell Dipsy what's on his mind since he's in bed but not sleeping?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I… They… They've reinstated the Triwizard Tournament… and someone put my name into the Goblet of Fire and confounded it to spit out my name."

"Oh no! Oh my poor, sweet little Master", Dipsy gushed and put her thin arms around his shoulders, trying to make him feel better. "Dipsy promises she will try and find a loop-hole in the rules so you won't have to compete."

The young wizard lightly leaned his head against Dipsy's as she patted his back. It felt oddly comforting. "Thanks. So far, you're the only one who wants to help me get out of the competition at all. Do you think mom and dad would have tried to help me get out of it as well?"

Harry felt the elf go still before she spoke up. "Young Master, they would turn the castle upside down for you."

She backed away from her hug and grabbed his hands instead.

"Young Master… I have something I would like to show you, but the journey there won't be comfortable. Will yous trust Dipsy and let her take yous there?"

Harry hesitated a moment, but he figured his day couldn't get any worse and so he squeezed her hands and nodded. "I'll trust you."

A big smile was the only warning he got before it felt like he was being squished from all sides and pressed through a spinning tube for what felt like an eternity when they suddenly landed on a wooden floor. He instantly turned over and threw up the food he had eaten before the Goblet spit out his name. Harry was vaguely aware that someone was rubbing his back as Dipsy cleaned away the mess.

"Harry…?" the person beside him said with a trembling voice and Harry realized with a start that it wasn't Dipsy. Quickly he turned around and instantly it felt like the world around him begun to spin but not because of the lingering nausea from the travel.

It was because he had seen the man's face before – in the photo album he had received from Hagrid, and in the Mirror of Erised. The man was the spitting image of his father.

The next thing he knew, he was embraced in a nearly crushing hug and the man was sobbing apologies and nonsense in his ear, trembling fingers running through his hair.

"Oh Harry… my sweet little boy… I'm so sorry… I thought… I lost… tried to protect… Harry I am so, so sorry… I shouldn't have… if I hadn't… couldn't even… God I'm sorry…"

"Hughes, if you don't let up soon you're going to end up choking the kid", someone said and Harry looked up to see a well-dressed man by the wall with dark hair and eyes look at them with an amused expression. Was he a muggle?

The man who was holding him let out a chuckle between the sobs but released Harry from the embrace only to hold him at an arms distance. A wavering smile played on his lips as he sniffled.

"Hey, sorry about the kidnapping, but I'm your dad."

The man by the wall snorted and but Harry ignored him.

"You can't be serious", he said, not daring to remove his eyes from the man holding him. Said man grinned as if he'd been told a joke.

"No that would be your godfather."

Harry was gobsmacked for a second before he shook his head and collected his wits again. "No… you can't be… my dad is dead…"

The man slowly shook his head placed a hand on his cheek. "Please Harry, it really is me. Can't you think of any question that would prove to you that I am your father? I know you can't remember me, but surly someone must have told you stuff you can use?"

"Okay, what position did you play in school?"

"Oh Harry, that's far too easy, I was a Chaser – good job on becoming a Seeker by the way. Seriously though, you must have a better question for me?"

"Uhm, how do you open a map?"

"Now that's a much more secure question! And you open it by tapping your wand on it and saying 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'. Any other question you want to ask?"

Harry swallowed hard. There was one thing that popped into his mind that would ensure it wasn't an imposter who had put him in his lap, but he was afraid to ask it. The man seemed to sense his hesitation and rubbed his shoulder gently.

"Harry… what's wrong?"

"What did you say to mum when Voldemort attacked?" he blurted out.

The man froze for a moment, then tear began to trickle down his face as he pulled Harry close again.

"I said: 'Lily it's him! Take Harry and run, I'll fight him off!'" he choked out.

Harry felt his own breath get stuck. No-one else had been there that night, and he had never told anybody what he had heard his parents say – only that he heard them scream. And he knew sure as hell Voldemort hadn't told anybody either. His arms found their way around the man's torso and he buried his face in his chest.

"Dad…"

The hug got stronger. "I've got you son, and I will never let you go again."

For several minutes Harry and his father just sat there without saying a word. It was surreal. His father was alive, and he was practically sitting in his lap. How many nights hadn't he spent in dark cupboard, hurt and wishing for his father or anyone really to hold him like this? How often hadn't he wished to feel his parents' fingers card through his hair? To be able to confine in them after a round of Harry Hunting? After the Troll, Quirrell, the Basilisk or the Dementors? He balled his hands into fists. Where had he been when he needed protection from Uncle Vernon? Where had he been when everyone thought he was the Slytherin's Heir? When he needed someone to stand up for him after the Goblet of Fire spit out his name?

Trembling from the fury that began to boil in him he pushed away from his father and glared at him.

"Where were you?"

"Harry-"

"Why weren't you there? I needed you, and all along you were alive? Why didn't you come back? Why-"

"He weren't there because he couldn't remember where 'there' was", the man in the corner interrupted before Harry could get a chance to rant any more. He glanced over to the man and felt like sinking through the floor at the man's intense stare. "Before you continue, you should know that your father have suffered from a severe case of amnesia."

Harry froze. "Amnesia?"

The older wizard squeezed his shoulder. "I couldn't remember anything about my previous life. Not even my own name. I was found here by some muggles who took me to a hospital, and when they failed to identify me I decided to join the military's investigation department, hoping I would find something that would trigger my memories. Turns out the muggle world don't contain much that can trigger memories when you've grown up as a pureblood."

"Oh", the teenager murmured and lowered his gaze to the floor. "So… when did you regain your memories?"

"A few weeks ago. I was shot and left for dead, but I survived and have spent my time healing and sorting through my memories. You have no idea how happy I was to hear that you were alive, Harry. I just wish I could have gotten them back earlier, so I could've taken you home and raised you alongside Elicia."

"Elicia?"

Harry saw his father flinch as if he had said something he wasn't supposed to. "Ah, well, you see… I hope you won't hate me for this Harry, but after a number of years without never regaining my memories… I, well… I though…"

"You thought you would never regain them and got a new family", the young wizard finished in a whisper.

"Pretty much, yeah. I never stopped looking, don't think for a second that I did, I just… I just couldn't keep myself from falling in love again, and in the end I married a woman named Gracia. And… well… Congratulations Harry, you're a big brother!"

Harry wasn't sure what to feel. A part of him felt betrayed that his father had gotten himself a new family, another part of him had longed for siblings, and now he apparently had one – a real one. He bit his lip.

"Do you have any pictures of them?"

James broke out in a grin while the man by the wall groaned before he left the room murmuring something about whiskey and coffee. His father rolled his eyes at the others departure and with a flick if his wand a small bunt of photographs sailed through the air into his hands.

"Sorry about Roy, he can be a bit of a grump at times. Anyway, here's a photo of Elicia and Gracia baking brownies, it was taken a few months ago, shortly after her third birthday. I'm sure you're going to love both of them! Oh, and here's one from a picnic we had…"

Harry looked at the photos as James described them one by one. It seemed like his dad was just as bad if not worse than Colin Creevey when it came to cameras, but this time he didn't mind. Not only because he wasn't the one targeted by the lens, but because he could look at his sister and… step-mother? It felt weird to know that he technically had a step-mother, and he tried his hardest to shove away the uneasiness he felt as he thought about it. He didn't think his dad had tried to replace his mother; it had been quite a few years after all since that night. But what if Gracia didn't like him? What if she gave his dad the ultimatum to pick between them? It was obvious he adored both Gracia and Elicia, so Harry couldn't imagine him to pick him over them.

"-glamours on and we'll head over to Knox' place."

Harry blinked, realizing he had zooned out. "Huh?"

His father smiled. "The bar is closing for tonight, Harry. We should transfigure your pyjamas into something more suitable and I should reapply the glamours and then we'll head over to Knox' place."

"Who's Knox?"

"He's the one who saved my life. He might appear as a grumpy old man, but he's a good guy once you get to know him."

"Oh. But why do you need glamours?"

"Ah, well, you see... Long story short, the people who shot me are very dangerous and don't know that I survived. So I'm staying undercover for now and calling myself by the name you know, instead of Maes Hughes that I've used here. Hmm, come to think of it, you look quite a lot like me, so we should probably change your looks a bit too – at least your hair colour."

With that they got up from the floor and his father went to the mirror and started to apply his glamours. A few minutes later he turned around and Harry blinked.

"You look like a younger Professor Lupin."

"Moony is a professor? Ha, I always knew he had it in him."

"Yeah, he was our defence professor last year. He was absolutely brilliant, but he quit when it got out he's a werewolf."

Before his father could comment it a dark haired, plump woman opened the door and looked at James.

"You're getting ready to leave. Good."

She shifted her attention toward the youngest in the room and reached out her hand.

"And you must be Harry. I am Madam Christmas, matron of this bar. Roy-boy told me about you; it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He hesitated slightly before taking her hand – noting just how steady and firm her grasp was – and he timidly shook it once. "L-likewise", he stuttered and felt like kicking himself. Why did he find this woman so intimidating? The woman gave him a satisfied smile and looked at his father again.

"So, James. Aren't you going to do something about how your little doppelgänger's looks too? And his pyjamas?"

"I was just about to get to that, madam. Now watch closely!"

With that his father turned towards him and muttered a few spells under his breath and within just a few seconds Harrys sleepwear had been transformed into slightly old fashioned shirt and trousers in neutral colours. Taking a peek in the mirror, he saw that his hair now had the same light-brown hue as his father's Remus-ish glamour. He was surprised how much that changed his look, and when he put on the paperboy cap his father just conjured for him he was barely recognizable. He would definitely use this if things didn't calm down at Hogwarts. Maybe along with some kind of notice-me-not charm, so the teachers wouldn't wonder why they had a new student in the room. The madam calmly clapped her hands.

"Impressive, Jamie-boy, very impressive. Now get out, we've closed."

Harry curiously glanced around as they walked down the road, the street lamps lighting their path in a soft, yellow glow. Everything seemed so… old fashioned. Most of the stuff seemed to belong in the early 20th century while other stuff seemed to almost be from a different world – the metallic, limb-like stuff he spotted in a dark window just to mention one thing. He really wanted to ask about everything he saw, where they were, why everything seemed so different from England and so on but refrained himself. His father had said before they left the bar that it was important he didn't appear too much out of place in case someone was watching them, no matter how low the chances for that were.

Eventually though his father put his hand on his shoulder and steered Harry towards a house that while not a cookie-cutter house like the Dursley's home on Private Drive, still melted in nicely among the others in the area. Pulling out a key he unlocked the door and ushered Harry inside.

"We should probably keep it down as Knox most likely has gone to sleep already", James whispered. "Put your shoes by the door and I'll show you the guest room, we can still catch a couple of hours of sleep."

Following the instructions he sneaked after his father upstairs and into a tidy room with a bookcase, a plain desk with a chair and a single bed. He felt his clothes being transfigured back into pyjamas and his father wasted no time in guiding him to the bed and tucking him in. Harry looked up at him in bewilderment, unsure of how to handle the sudden situation.

"But dad, where will you sleep?" he asked and stifled a yawn. James smiled at him.

"Don't worry, I've already got t he perfect plan for that."

An hour later Knox was heading down to the kitchen to get some much needed coffee and breakfast. Remembering Hughes had yet to return by the time he went to bed, he decided to look into the guest room to see if the man had returned at all. Quietly he opened the door, stuck his head in, and blinked. He rubbed his eyes but the image remained the same. Lying in the bed was a sleeping teen with light brown hair, his hand resting on the head of a stag of all things that lay on the floor beside him. Knox pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"I don't want to know", he mumbled and left the room. "I do not want to know."

A/N: That's all for today dear readers. (And no, I didn't intentionally plan on releasing this chapter today because it's 3rd Oct. That's just a fun little coincidence.) I have to admit, the last part where Knox saw James as a stag, it was inspired soley by the review ReadAgain left on chapter five. To be honest I hadn't even thought of that until I read it, and then I just kept my eyes open for a good spot to squeeze it in. So ReadAgain, thank you for the inspiration!

Secondly it will probably take a long time again before I can update and that's for multiple reasons. The fist one is that I am very stressed out due work and do not have much energy left when I finally get home (so if any of you have suggestions of careers with low to no customer contact, feel free to send me a pm). The second one is that I'm going to be part of a little bookfair/exhibition in about three weeks so the little energy I have left after work will mainly go to make sure I have some good illustrations to show off. And the third reason is that I haven't even started on the next chapter, so yeah... Anyway, I am truly grateful for your patience and understanding, to be honest I sometimes read the reviews when I have a bad day just to cheer myself up (though it does feels a little bit narcistic).

Thank you so much for reading it!

See you next time!