Full Summary: Fleamont and Euphemia Potter never expected to have a child, let alone two. Six years after the miracle of their son Euphemia gave birth to a girl. She was not the miracle her brother way. She was born early and weak. In desperation, in fear of they're daughters premature death, the Potters reached out to an estranged family friend. Dorea Riannon Potter lived. Though she did not live well. Plagued by her parent's choice to ensure her life, followed by death, and wrought with guilt Dorea must navigate grief, battle addiction, and protect what she has left.

Disclaimer: This is an AU.

Dorea's held firmly to the letter like a child; as if she let the letter go it would not be true. She'd memorized every word of it…

Dear Miss Potter,

I am elated to hear of your recovery, and release from the Wellness Center. The administration has informed me of your departure date. I would very much like to meet you to discuss your future the day before.

Please return the owl if this is convenient to you.

Sincerely yours,

Albus P. W.B. Dumbeldore
Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Not once in the past three years had she received any wizarding post. She had wanted it that way originally. Dorea had found it agonizing without any news of the world beyond Bayberry Rehabilitation Center.

The door to the parlor opened. In a bundle of nerves she shot out from the armchair, and nearly knocked her knee into the coffee table. The letter fell from her grasp.

"Your visitor is here Doree, " the scottish nurse, Brie, said with a large smile. She was an older muggle, and often was chastised for being too motherly to the patients. She left them without another word.

Dumbledore stepped into the room. He wore a long muggle coat and trousers. His blue eyes twinkled across the room even without his spectacles.

"H...Hello, sir." Dorea managed. Her eyes flickered and caught sight of the tea tray Brie had set up for them. "Tea?"

He smiled and with a small nod proceeded to the armchair across her. The Headmaster said nothing until she'd poured the pair of them tea, and receded into her own.

"You are well?" He asked.

Dorea halted the nervous scratching she'd taken up. Red claw marks raked her hands. "Very well, sir, thank you." She took a long draft of tea to ignore his appraising gaze.

"I am most glad to hear it." Dumbledore said with a smile. "If I may ask," he cleared his throat, "do you have any current plans when you leave tomorrow?"

She straightened. Her motto the past three years had always been: Let future Dorea deal with it. "Honestly, sir," she sighed, "I haven't the foggiest."

Dumbledore set down the tea cup. His smile always sent an unnerving ripple through her. It was too kind. Too fatherly for her liking. "Allow me then, to offer you a path."

"A path?" Dorea blinked. It was the phrasing she did not like. All the pamphlets for Bayberry talked about "Starting on the right path" or "Choosing the right path to clean living".

"A job more like." The Headmaster continued, "I'm sure you recall from your time at school our flight instructor Madame Hooch?"

Dorea nodded.

"Well, Madame Hooch has made it known to me she plans to retire or semi-retire within the next few years, and the Ministry has put a request to have more advanced lessons offered to the older students."

"Advanced lessons?" She questioned. While she'd been at Hogwarts flying lessons had been a year one course that was pass or fail.

"Indeed." Dumbledore said brightly, "How to deal with long distance travel, altitude sickness, and Quidditch techniques to name a few."

Her heart leapt at the mention of Quidditch. If there had been anything she'd missed whilst being among muggles was the inability to jump out her window and into the night on her Comet Two Eighty-Seven.

In her silence, Dumbledore continued, "It would also provide you with a room on the grounds," he gave a long pause, "and the ability to see your nephew."

Her heart skyrocketed up her throat. It tickled her uvula. She sucked in a breath, "He… he's school age already?"

The Headmaster nodded, "This past year was his first."

Her lips began to crack. The thrash of her heart rose. "I…" she stammered, "I can't." The tea cup shook in her hand until it fell to the floor with a crash.

"Harry needs you, Dorea." Dumbledore said. His soft wrinkled hand came upon hers. The broken tea cup righting itself with a wave of his wand. When she said nothing the Headmaster pushed onward. "You have been through much, and so has he."

Dorea managed to meet his eyes, "I haven't... been in... his life for eleven years." She took a deep rib shaking breath. "What makes you think he needs me now?"

"Because of Lord Voldemort." He said without hesitation.

Her mouth was agape. Slowly it shut. She sucked in the snot that began to drip down her nose. "He's gone."

Dumbledore sat back and pressed a hand to his forehead, "I'm afraid not."

She sat there aghast as the Headmaster, calmly, told her of the past years events. Her head swam and the fingers pressed against it throbbed. The room began to vibrate with the tea cups rattling in their saucers as if to warn of an earthquake.

"Dorea." Dumbledore said softly.

Without knowing it she'd thrown herself from the chair. Feet lifted an inch off the ground. "All of this happened under your nose!"

In the face of her anger the wizard sat passively; a father waiting for a tantrum to pass. A loud rap came to the parlor door and Dorea found herself again. The accidental magic fizzled from the air as Nurse Brie opened the door a jar.

"Everything alright, dearie?" She asked.

Dorea swallowed, "Yes, thank you."

"I'll be just down the hall should you need me." Brie gave the back of Dumbledore's head a glare before shutting the door once more.

She sank back into the armchair and closed her eyes. Dumbledore's heartbeat was steady. Nothing would so easily rattle one of the greatest wizards of the age. She listened to the veins, the heart, and squelishing of organs as she counted. One…. two…. three… four…. five…. six..

He had waited; ever so patient until her eyes blinked in the room once more. "I can offer no explanation," he said, "only my sincerest of apologies."

Dorea's teeth gnashed. The man before her had apologized before. This was one time too many, but she did not say anything.

Dumbledore stood, "I believe you submitted yourself here to become a better person, Dorea, and part of that must be making amends to Harry." He stopped at the door, "It will not be an easy road, but nothing that is worth having ever is." His blue eyes dropped for a moment, and then snapped back to her, "Should you like to accept my offer, you may find yourself welcome on the Hogwarts Express September 1st." The Headmaster inclined his head and said no more.

She heard the faint 'crack' of apparition from somewhere on the lawn.

Brie bustled into the room to gather the tea tray. The woman was vibrating with anticipation. She just couldn't help herself, "Doree…" the nurse paused after picking up the tray, "who was that man dear? Your grandfather?"

Dorea couldn't blame her. No one. Not one soul had visited her since admission. The curiosity must have been driving the muggle mad. "He's the Headmaster of a school." She answered truthfully, "He offered me a job."

"Well!" Brie's eyes drew up brightly, "That's wonderful!" She tinkered on about how Dr. Abbot would be so pleased to hear of it, and how her friends at the Manor would be happy knowing she's not going back to the 'streets'. How lucky she was to have a job before leaving.

"Brie," Dorea interrupted, "Could I use the phone?"

The nurse blinked in a shock, but her smile widened, "It's past curfew, but I won't tell a soul."

She'd only used the muggle telephone once before. Two years ago, and she'd hung up on the second ring. The phone rotated and the muggle device sprang to life. She squeezed the cord between her finger and thumb. "Pick up…. pick up…" She pleaded.

The ringing stopped, and nearly did her heart. A gruff voice answered on the other end, "Mulligans."

"Yes, is … is Remus there?" Dorea said.

"Speak up, can't 'ear ya!" the voice said.

She cleared her throat, "Remus! Remus Lupin, he works there."

"He aint work here no more." the line ended.

Dorea set down the phone, and proceeded to her room. Her's was the only solitary room on the floor. It was dark. The lights were all controlled at the nurses station to ensure curfew. Not that it mattered much to her. She felt the underneath of the desk for her wand; 11 inches, elder wood, dragonheart string. "Lumos."

The dim light from her wand floated and followed her gaze. She sunk on to the mattress. It usually felt like a cloud, but tonight it was like a marshmallow; dense and sticky. Under the bed was her trunk. She'd transfigured it to the size of a make-up box before arriving.

After the lid opened the summoning charm was stuck in her throat. "Accio photo." A single photo floated up from the depths of the trunk. She took it gently in her hand. A family of three beamed up at her set in front of a glittering holiday tree. "Hello Harry," everything trembled, "Lils…" a tear splattered down, "J….J-..."

She could not speak it. His name would not pass through her lips. Her elder brother looked up with his wide cheshire smile and wild hair. There were seven years between them. She was only thirteen when they lost their parents. Fourteen when she became an aunt, and scarcely older when she lost everything.

Dorea clasped the picture to her chest, and rested. "I will make this right."

Mornings never where Dorea's favorite, and neither were the daytime nurses who ceaseless rapped on the doors and barked at the inhabitants. Normally, Dorea would rise, shower, dress and march down to breakfast with everyone else. Today was not normal.

Outside the bedroom door was a small line of other patients. All wearing happy tears or jealous lines in their faces. She smiled at them the best she could, and offered them some of the personal effects she'd decorated her room with to remember her by.

Breakfast was lively with chatter about her departure, but was interrupted by a tall woman who entered the dining hall. Dr. Abbot's gentle hazel eyes zeroed in on Dorea.

"A word before you leave Miss Potter." She said.

Dorea followed the Doctor to her office; a large comfy and welcoming room on the first floor. During individual sessions Dorea would lay on the chaise and Dr. Abbot would sit in the puffy armchair next to it. She found herself drawn to the chaise, but ended standing awkwardly next to it.

"You had a visitor last night." Dr. Abbot said, "A special visitor in fact."

Dorea nodded, "Did he tell you he was coming?"

The Doctor inclined her head, "He sent a letter asking my permission. He did not, however, tell me of his plans to discuss employment with you."

"You think it's a bad idea?" Dorea's fingers began to scratch up and down her arm.

"I think you should proceed with caution." Dr. Abbot said, "Are you ready to dive back into… our world?"

All Dorea could do was nod. She felt her voice would not be convincing. She didn't know if she was ready to dive back in, but last night in the endless void of attempted sleep Dorea found a determination she'd not felt in near a decade. If Dumbledore couldn't protect her nephew. She would.