The rest of their week was rather mundane as the pair settled into their new routine. Minerva had yet to resume their lessons and instead Harry found himself out in the village taking midday walks to have lunch with Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks. The days were growing colder and shorter as autumn carried on, but the kindly woman always had a warm plate and a glass of butterbeer at the ready for him. He found he liked the stuff much better warmed than cold although the sickly sweet version was too much for his liking.

Every night he spent with the photobook and told his parents of his new found home and how grateful he was to have found Minerva. He was glad the witch did not listen in on his private conversations with the picture as he was certain he would die of embarrassment. The only company he would bear in those moments alone was Mallow. The owl toy had become a friend and comfort to him in his new life with its soft hoots and warm feathers.

"Harry, dear. Would you fetch the letter off my desk?" Minerva asked of him one morning as an owl swooped in during their breakfast and Harry hurried to fetch the desired letter to bring to his guardian. It was not often she asked him to carry out a task and he relished in being of some use to the person who had done so much for him.

He watched eagerly as she thanked him and opened up the folded parchment with some haste. She let out a soft sigh and her lips pressed together in a firm line. She slipped off her glasses and pinched the ridge of her nose in exasperation.

"What is it, Minnie?" Harry asked cautiously. He had taken to calling her thus after spending more time with Agora and the elder witch seemed fond of the name. He had been tempted to start calling her mum, but something held him back from taking such a bold step in their relationship. He wouldn't call her aunt though, that title harbored too much pain for him, and grandmother seemed to age her beyond her years. So for now, he had settled on the nickname that seemed reserved for those closest to her.

"It is a statement from the goblins." Minerva explained, "I had inquired about the status of your accounts and properties. It would seem that your father in his infinite wisdom as a twenty one year old had written out a life lease of your family's ancestral home to a one, Agathe Clearwater. Who I am loath to admit is quite young and without any debilitating health problems. The money in turn along with half of your family's fortune was given to provide for the Order which while very noble in nature has left you with very little to call your own."

"Oh." Harry said sadly. He had known that Minerva was quite well off on her own, but he supposed that an inheritance would have made caring for him easier. He supposed she would ask more of him now. Perhaps there was a shopkeeper he could work for part time to help with his expenses.

"You will stop that train where it has been stationed, Mr. Potter." Minerva said tersely as she gave him a reproachful stare. "The only reason this vexes me is that I had hoped that you would be able to spend time in the home your grandparents and father called home. I know that Fleamont and Euphemia had a portrait painted and placed within the hall there and I imagine with how much comfort your photo book brings you that talking to them would be of some value. The money is of no matter as you have enough to make it through Hogwarts and then some with very little to worry about. I am just disappointed that your father lacked foresight into how precarious his position was. I assume your mother is the only reason they did not give up every galleon they owned for the sake of defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Do you think Mrs. Clearwater would let us visit?" Harry asked quietly as he processed the information. It seemed he was not as much of a burden as he thought, but the loss of getting to meet his grandparents had struck a cord of melancholy within him. He was not angry with his father, but like Minerva he felt a sense of disappointment.

"I find it unlikely and as most owners tend to personalize their dwellings I doubt the portrait remains in place." Minerva mused, "However, I will write to her and see what her feelings are on the subject. In the meanwhile, that reminds me that we need to have a discussion about our current accommodations."

Harry looked at her curiously, but stopped himself from blurting out lest he irritate her further. He was still getting the measure of his stern guardian and her moods. He had gathered she was a very blunt woman who was unafraid to speak her mind on matters, but was prone to passionate bursts of anger when the situation called for it. He did not think she would ever be cross enough at him to rage, but adults had shown him their anger physically before and he did not dare try to push that boundary. Just in case, he told himself. Life had done nothing, but taught him to be careful of other people's emotions lest they direct themselves towards him. He was learning to be less afraid, but the ingrained wariness refused to leave him fully.

Minerva did not press him on his suddenly pensive mood, but merely continued. "I have told you before that we would not be staying here permanently. It seems Albus has found a replacement for my classes as well as the head of Gryffindor house. I have stayed close in case something had gone amiss or my insight was needed, but the headmaster has assured me that I am no longer needed until I wish it to be so." She paused and seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing, "I know the village has its benefits and that you've enjoyed visiting Rosmerta and Agora, but I fear as springtime comes the village will become more popular and you will be forced to stay inside more often than not. I do not wish to keep you confined and would like us to live in a place where you can play, grow, and be safe."

Harry nodded and although he felt sad to leave the quiet village he had begun to call home; he knew that the visitors were steadily increasing in number as the students grew restless in the castle. Several times a group had stopped in the street to point and stare at him as Minerva had escorted him on her errands. He had even taken to leaving Mallow at home for fear of losing his only friend in the throngs of newcomers. Their back garden was a small plot of land and hardly sheltered from the prying eyes of passersby.

"I don't want to go, but I understand." Harry said mournfully.

"I know, child." Minerva patted his hand and smiled at him sadly. Her former ire ebbing away into sympathy. "I love it here too. However, our new home will be ready for us and full of new adventures. I did not grow up there, but my mother often told me of the mischief she got up to as a lass. I believe there is even a treehouse that you can claim for your own and we have a library that is almost as large as Hogwarts to explore and learn from. There are also horses I can teach you to ride and a small flock of sheep we can tend to together."

"That sounds like fun." Harry said begrudgingly, "Will Agora and Rosmerta be able to visit? Or at least can we come back here sometimes?"

"I'm sure Agora would love to visit although poor Rosmerta barely has a moment to herself with how busy the bar will become. However, I can promise that we will visit and we can bring her back stories of your very own." Minerva conceded, "I will be renting out the cottage to a young family and so we will not be able to stay here, but remember what I told you of the floo network and how people can use the fireplace to travel?"

Harry nodded and his heart seemed to lighten at the idea that their village was only a fireplace away if they wanted to return. That seemed to conclude their exchange and Harry spent the rest of his day dreaming up what their new home would be like and what awaited them there. He was sure whatever it would be like as long as he had Minerva, it would be home.