Response to Reviews:

Dzerx: I'm glad you like it so far. And actually, I have an idea (or maybe two) on how I'd like to spin that. But I'd like to see how the story plays out for now.

njferrell: Durskaban *laughs* I like that. And an exciting idea, I admit I was toying with that idea. But I guess you'll read and see how it goes!

A/N: For those of you with the Wizarding World app, have you pre-ordered gold or are considering getting it when it comes?

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any Harry Potter characters besides some OC ones that may or may not pop up. I also DO NOT own story plots that are canon. I do, however, own things that ARE NOT canon.

Arabella Figg, known as Mrs. Figg by the young Mister Potter, was woken up early in the morning by something she couldn't quite explain. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that she could discern, but –

But there was something off in the air. A change Arabella couldn't see with her eyes, nor hear with her ears, but there was something undeniably different.

She had fallen asleep on her living room couch; the roaring fire was still active in her fireplace, warming her weary bones as well as the cats that had gathered all around her in the night.

She rubbed tiredly at her eyes as she sat up. A yawn escaped her lips before she stood from the couch and carefully made her way around her many cats towards the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea that could've put her back to sleep.

It was when she was about to pass her window that she noticed something out of the ordinary. The early morning light had begun to appear in the sky, and it illuminated the houses in her neighborhood.

Including Number Four, Privet Drive, a couple houses down and across the street from her own home.

The morning light wasn't as bright as it would've been at midday, but it was bright enough to reveal the two figures standing in front of the house.

Arabella's eyes widened when she realized that the two figures were about eight to ten feet tall, with dark hooded cloaks on their silhouette.

She also noticed that they weren't actually standing in front of Mister Potter's house, but hovering in front of it.

And if those observations weren't enough to convince Arabella of what they were, even though it did, the faint frost that was starting to creep over her window certainly did.

"Dementors," Arabella breathed in shock. "Oh, Merlin!"

She left her window and quickly rushed towards her fireplace. She grabbed a handful a Flu Powder that was hanging on the side before she threw it into the fire. "Headmaster's Office!"

She kneeled in front of the fire, ignored the slight pain in her knees, and stuck her head in.

Albus Dumbledore's office looked the same as it always had, with the snoozing portraits on the walls, some of them awake and peering at her in confusion and irritation, and odd trinkets dotted various points of the room.

But in her blind panic, Mrs. Figg saw none of it. "Albus!" she called frantically. "Albus! Please, I need your help!"

It was only a moment later when the man she was calling for came into view, his nightclothes a horrid yellow color. "Arabella, my dear," Albus said worriedly. "Whatever is the matter? It's nearing seven in the morning over here."

"Albus, I need you to come through," she pleaded desperately. "Please. There are a couple of Dementors here in front of Harry's house."

She missed the flash of satisfaction in the Headmaster's eyes, too busy panicking about Harry and his family. She didn't particularly care about Petunia and Vernon Dursley, not to mention their horrible son Dudley, but Harry was a dear boy, and she worried about him.

"I am sure that young Mister Potter can take care of the Dementors on his own, Arabella," Albus said in a soothing voice, trying to calm the clearly anxious woman.

But Arabella glared at him, taking him by surprise. "Albus, if he uses magic, he'll be charged with Improper Use of Magic and dragged to the Ministry for a hearing since it won't be the first time magic has happened in that house," she ranted at him. "And I can't do anything because I am a squib, so you're the only one who can do something!"

"Now Arabella," Albus tried to soothe her, inwardly cursing the wrench that had been thrown into his plans, "you know that-"

But whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a high pitched scream.

Mrs. Figg whipped her head around in the direction of the scream, and her eyes went wide. "Mrs. Dursley," she said, her voice horrified in realization. She turned back to the Headmaster. "Albus, there isn't much time! You have to come through now!"

Albus gritted his teeth. 'Damn this observant woman,' he cursed silently to himself. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Arabella wasn't supposed to notice anything until Harry was doing magic to defend himself.

The aged Headmaster plastered a fake genial smile upon his face. "Don't worry, my dear," he said as she moved out the way for him to come through. "I'll handle it."

Mrs. Figg sighed in relief as she watched Albus head towards her front door to go and help Harry. 'Good thing I was able to reach him,' she thought to herself. 'I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't noticed anything until it was too late?'

Albus headed outside into the neighborhood, absentmindedly disillusioned himself as he went so not to attract attention. Well, more attention than what was attracted by Petunia's scream.

As he hurried forward, he took in the scene. Petunia Dursley was slumped on the ground, a Dementor hovered above her and about to administer the Kiss. The other one was about to enter the house through the open door that Petunia had left open when she came outside.

Albus quickly pointed his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery phoenix burst from the end of his wand and quickly made its way towards the Dementors. The one hovering above Petunia was swiftly knocked aside by the charm and the one lurking in the doorway backed away from the house as the phoenix swooped in and spread its wings, blocking the door. It grew brighter and pulsed slightly, sending the two Dementors fleeing from the home and the neighborhood entirely.

After making sure that they were truly gone, Albus hurried to the downed woman. He Obiviated the few bystanders that had come out, so they forget what had occurred before making a 'suggestion' that they leave.

Once the small crowd began to disperse, Dumbledore turned his attention to the shivering woman on the ground.

"Petunia, dear?" Albus questioned. He made his voice as soft as he could, trying not to let the anger he was feeling show in his voice and on his face. He let go of the Disillusionment. "Petunia? Are you alright?"

"What did you do?"

Albus turned to see Vernon Dursley peering outside from the doorway of his house, his son Dudley inspecting out from behind him. Vernon was squinting at Albus' bright clothes, and both of them seemed to be shaking and looked paler than the last time Albus saw them. 'The Dementors must've affected them as well,' he thought to himself.

"What did you do to my wife?" Vernon repeated, his voice angrier than it was before. "What happened to her?"

Albus raised his hand in placation. "I've done nothing to her, Mister Dursley," he said. "However, it would be best if we get your wife inside. We don't need the neighbors witnessing this, do we?"

Knowing the Dursley's need to appear normal, he wasn't surprised by the immediate agreement, even if he was eyed warily as the man moved to pick up his wife. Albus followed the man inside, his son keeping a considerable distance from the old wizard.

Albus looked around the house as he walked in. 'Where is Harry?' he wondered. 'He would've heard his aunt screaming and, knowing the hero complex the boy has, I expected him to come rushing to help.'

As he entered the living room where Vernon placed his wife on the couch, he asked, "Might I inquire as to where young Harry is?"

Vernon grunted as he maneuvered Petunia into a comfortable setting. "Not here."

A shot of anxiety ran through the Headmaster as he heard those words. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to keep his panic down. "Could you please elaborate on what you said, please?"

But Vernon shook his head. "Nuh-uh," he snapped. "I'm not saying another damn word until you fixed what happened to my wife!"

Albus grit his teeth in frustration at being denied his answers. He considered just using Legilimens on the man in front of him but decided against it; Vernon Dursley might be the man of the house, but it was his wife who was in charge of the relationship. She had the answers he needed, so he played nice and acquiesced.

He grabbed some pieces of chocolate that he stuffed in his pockets, just in case it was Harry who was affected and tried to feed it to the still-shivering woman.

"Hold it," Vernon intervened. "What's that stuff you're giving her?"

"It's just chocolate, my good sir," Albus said with a smile.

The other man didn't smile back. "How in the hell is chocolate supposed to help my wife?!" he glowered. Dudley, who was trying to hide behind his father although he was failing spectacularly, eyed the chocolate hungrily but made no move to take it.

Albus fought the urge to roll his eyes. 'Muggles,' he thought derisively. 'You try and help them, and yet you're still regarded with suspicion.'

Aloud, he said, "The thing that attacked your wife made her see her darkest memories and sucked all the warmth from her body. The chocolate will help her regain that warmth and stop her shivering."

Vernon glared at him a second longer before he jerked his head in a nod. "Fine. Do it. But I'm watching you."

Albus refrained from snarling 'I fought men whose shoes you aren't good enough to lick. You don't scare me, Dursley.' However, he did plaster a benevolent smile on his face and did as he was 'told.'

(No one told Albus Dumbledore what to do. No one.)

A few minutes after Petunia ingested the chocolate, the shivers began to taper off and her skin began to lose its paleness. Her eyes lost their faraway look and focused on Albus, who was right in front of her. She took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. She didn't say anything.

"Petunia?" Vernon asked. "Pet, are you alright?"

Petunia didn't answer, her gaze not wavering from the aged wizard in front of her.

"Was it you?" she inquired, her voice shaky. "Did you do this to me?"

"No no, of course not, Petunia dear," Albus reassured her. "It was a creature from my world."

Petunia scowled. "Typical. The freak isn't even here, and he is still getting us in trouble."

Albus went white as he heard her words. "Petunia," he said urgently. "Your husband also said that Harry is gone. Did he go visit a friend?"

Dudley, who had been quiet the whole time the Headmaster was in his house, snorted loudly. "As if that freak has any friends," he said snidely.

Albus began to get a bad feeling. "Petunia," he said, the fear in his voice not showing on his face.

The woman merely rolled his eyes. "He doesn't live with us anymore," she said dismissively. "The boy came back and said he got a letter from someone that turned out to be a family member. Said he could go live with them instead of staying here with us. Personally, I was glad to be rid of the little monster. Him leaving means the freakishness will leave too."

She snorted a little. "A fat lot of good its done us if we're still being attacked by monsters of that world."

Dumbledore didn't acknowledge her, his mind a whirl as it processed the new information. 'He left? That foolish idiotic boy! He has no other relatives! And even if he did, he cannot go with them! He needs to be here! I've told that brat time and time again how important it is for him to remain here! How dare he disobey me! How dare he go off with some stranger!' he fumed to himself.

Vernon, after making sure that his wife was okay, turned a glare onto Albus. "Okay, you've got your answers. Now get out of my house."

Albus ignored him. "Harry doesn't have any other relatives," he insisted. "He lied to you. When I find him, he'll have to come back."

Petunia narrowed her eyes. "No he bloody well won't," she hissed. "Leave him with the person who took him in. We're done with that...that boy. Don't bring him back here, my family has had enough!"

The aged wizard fought the urge to glower at the infuriating woman in front of him. It didn't matter what she and her family wanted. For the time being, Harry absolutely needed to be with his relatives. The fact that they were negligent to the point of abusive helped Albus keep his weapon sturdy. He didn't need a weak weapon in a fight against Voldemort.

Albus assumed an innocent expression, slightly leaning towards pleading. "At least tell me the name Harry had given you," he said. "The person who had supposedly taken him in?"

The older woman's scowl deepened. "He didn't say."

Vernon started walking towards Dumbledore, his rage making him braver than usual against a magic folk. "You need to leave. Now!" he barked out, trying to tower over the Headmaster.

Albus rose to his feet. "I'll leave," he said in placation to the angered man. He looked at Petunia. "Would you at least tell me if it was a man or a woman?"

Petunia scowled as she gathered her son into her arms. "I don't have to tell you anything," she seethed. "Get out of my house. Now! Before I call the police!"

'As if the police could do anything to me,' he couldn't help but think.

He locked eyes with Petunia, and this time didn't hold back. He plunged into her mind and searched ruthlessly to find the memory he seeks. He found it, finally, and almost cursed aloud when he pulled away.

The woman was telling the truth, unfortunately. The boy didn't mention a name or where he was going. For Merlin's sake, he didn't even say if it was a man or a woman!

"I shall take my leave now," he said. He spun on his heel abruptly and made his way out of the house, ignoring the shouts behind him.

He made his way back towards Arabella's place, intending on using her Floo Network.

'Damn that brat for interfering with my plans,' he thought with a scowl.

Albus Dumbledore had things to do. And quickly.

Molly Weasley was bustling around the kitchen in Grimmauld Place, finishing cooking breakfast for its occupants.

Besides her, the only people awake were her husband and Sirius, both of whom were sitting at the table. Arthur was focusing his attention on a book while Sirius had his arms folded on the table and was resting his head on them, a vacant look in his eyes as he stared ahead.

In the kitchen, Molly finally finished the food and piled them onto plates. She waved her wand, and they floated to the table and arranged themselves accordingly. She then walked in herself, carrying a pitcher of pumpkin juice in one hand and a pitcher of coffee in the other, before going back for cups and mugs.

Sirius lost his vacant-eyed look to eye the food hungrily. Spending thirteen years in Azkaban without any real food made him look forward to everything Molly cooked. Seeing all the bacon, scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, sausages, and buttered toast made his stomach rumble and his mouth water.

But before he could grab a plate and start loading food onto it, Molly's voice stopped him.

"Sirius, go and wake everyone and tell them that breakfast is ready," she said as she sat down, piling food onto a plate. "We still have much cleaning to do."

Sirius stared at her mulishly. "Why do I have to do it?" he scowled. "You could go up and tell them yourself."

Molly scowled at the man. "I had just spent the last half hour cooking breakfast for everyone; the least you could do is get everybody down here to eat it! Need I remind you that it's your ancestral home that we are taking the time to clean?"

Sirius scowled angrily at the woman but moved to do as she said. He certainly didn't feel like getting into a screaming match with her, especially since the noise would wake his mother, and that'll lead to a screaming match with her as well.

(There was only so much screaming and yelling he could take. Listening to the screaming of his fellow inmates while in Azkaban was more than enough, thanks.)

As he walked away, Molly turned to her husband. "That man," she fumed. "Treating me the way he does, wherein Merlin's name is his manners?!"

Arthur sighed. "Molly, you need to remember that Sirius is a grown man. You cannot boss him around like he's one of our children."

His wife flushed in embarrassment at the reprimand.

"Also," Arthur continued, "the man has been in Azkaban for thirteen years. His mental state isn't the best right now, so cut him a little slack."

Molly flushed even darker and focused her attention to her food, not saying anything.

Arthur fought the urge to sigh. 'Merlin knows I love my wife,' he thought to himself. 'But even I am not blind to her faults.'

Molly was a caring woman, but frequently could come across as overbearing. She also tried to take control of situations if she felt it was needed. Her husband typically lets her, but only within their own home. She needs to learn how to let someone else take the reins once in a while.

The sound of footsteps overhead brought Arthur out of his musings, and Molly glanced up from her food.

A few moments later, the twins stumbled into the room, blurry-eyed and mouths opened wide to let out yawns. "Morning, Mum, Dad," they muttered simultaneously.

"Good morning, boys," Molly replied as she stood. She waved them towards the chairs. "Sit, sit! Hurry up and eat, you're both as skinny as Bowtruckles!"

The twins rolled their eyes in tandem as they sat down and began piling their plates, not answering their mother's words. Molly let out a noise of frustration at their answer, or lack of one, but was distracted by the influx of the other teens with Sirius accompanying them.

Ron was still sleepy, evident by the way his eyelids kept coming down half-mast over his eyes and his head slipping off his hand after he sat down.

Ginny was still sleepy as well, but she was alert enough to start gathering some food to place on her plate, yawns escaping her mouth every thirty seconds.

Out of all of them, Hermione was the least tired. She had yawned a bit when she first walked in, but now was eating her food enthusiastically.

Molly was moving about, pouring drinks for everyone (Pumpkin Juice for the kids and coffee for herself, Arthur, and Sirius) when the fireplace flared and out stepped Albus Dumbledore.

"Headmaster!" Molly exclaimed in shock, setting down the coffee pitcher. Arthur and Sirius were staring at the wizened wizard in confusion while the teens had wide eyes. "What a pleasant surprise! Please, have a seat, you can have some breakfast while you're here."

Albus smiled, although it seemed a little strained from what the older woman could tell. "Thank you for your generous offer Molly, but I'm afraid this isn't the time; I've come with rather dire news."

"Oh?" Arthur straightened in his seat. "Did something happen?"

The teens all leaned forward, eager to hear about something first hand, and not from Fred and Goerge's extendable ears.

"I'm sorry to say something did," the Headmaster admitted. "Someone who was keeping an eye on Harry for me floo called my office to inform me that dementors were attacking his home."

"Oh, dear Merlin!" Molly exclaimed, her hands coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

"Is Harry alright?" the twins asked in unison, concern written all over their faces. Hermione and Ginny were mimicking Mrs. Weasley and Ron stared at Albus with his jaw dropped.

Albus sighed. "When I went to drive the dementors away, I asked his aunt why Mister Potter didn't try to get rid of them; knowing him as I do, he would've thought he'd jump right in to help."

"That's true," Hermione agreed, Ginny and Ron nodding on either side of her.

"Well, what did she say?" Molly demanded. "Is he sick?"

"I'm sorry to say that the reality is much more complicated than that," Albus said, a frown tugging at his lips. "His aunt told me that Harry doesn't live with them anymore."

"WHAT?" Molly, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny exclaimed loudly.

"FILTHY MUDBLOODS AND DIRTY HALF-BLOODS LITTERING MY HOME! SCUM! PESTS! IMPURITIES EVERYWHERE!"

Sirius cursed before leaping to his feet, running to subdue the portrait of his mother. Molly and Hermione looked a little embarrassed about yelling loud enough awaken Walburga's picture, while Ron and Ginny were still looking shocked at the news Albus had dropped.

"Professor," Ginny began, ignoring Sirius' voice as he shouted at his screaming mother, "what did you mean when you said Harry doesn't live with his family?"

"Harry's aunt informed me that Harry got a letter from someone who claimed to be a relative," Albus answered. "He then went to go live with them."

"Harry doesn't have any more relatives," Sirius interjected, having come back into the room in time to hear the Headmaster's words. "James didn't have any siblings, aunts, or uncles."

"And that is why this news is so dire," Albus said gravelly. "Someone has tricked Harry into going with them under the guise of being a long lost relative."

"Are you actually sure Harry doesn't have any more relatives?" Fred challenged.

"Yeah, Harry doesn't trust people easily," George stated. "The person that Harry went with could actually be a relative you don't know about."

Albus shook his head. "No, I am quite sure," he insisted. "I checked when I placed him with his mother's relatives. Besides Sirius and Sirius' cousins - the Malfoy's - Harry has no other living relatives."

Molly wrung her hands in worry. "Do you know who he went with?" she asked desperately. "Their name, at least?"

Albus shook his head. "Unfortunately, Harry didn't tell his aunt their name, or even what gender they are," he said, real frustration in his voice. "And she has no idea where they went."

"Could it have been a Death Eater?" Ron asked, his face pale.

"Unlikely," the olden wizard replied. "Harry knows most of the Death Eaters' faces, and Severus would have told me if Harry was in their clutches."

Ron didn't look convinced but didn't question the statement.

"There must be some way to locate them," Hermione said nervously.

"I would like for you four to write to him," Albus responded eagerly, looking at Ron, Hermione, and the twins. "You too, Sirius. See if he can give any indicators about where he is or who he's with."

"Are you sure he'll answer?" Ginny asked, a little unhappy that she wasn't asked to write a letter to Harry. "What if he's being held against his will?"

"We have to at least try," Albus insisted. He turned to the Patriarch of the Weasley family. "Arthur, I want you to see if anyone is talking about it when you go in for work if that's okay?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Arthur nodded.

"I shall head back to Hogwarts," Albus said as he stared at everyone seated at the table. "I will also contact Alastor, Kingsley, and Tonks to see if they can watch Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade just in case they catch a glance of Mister Potter. Please let me know if he answers any of your letters."

Unknown to them, Albus had gone immediately back to Hogwarts after heading back to Arabella's place. There, he checked an instrument of his that let him know Harry's health, and it had shown that the boy was not harmed. Unfortunately for Albus, the tracking spells the old man placed on Harry's trunk and cloak wasn't giving him any coordinates or revealing any locations to him. Hopefully, the brat will answer his friends' inquiries, and he can get him back to his aunt and uncle.

(It doesn't matter that both Petunia and Harry will object. Harry will be going back to be under the protection of the blood wards. All for the greater good.)

"Of course," Molly nodded in answer to his earlier question.

He nodded his head at her. "By your leave, Molly," he said kindly before stepping back into the fireplace. "Headmaster's Office!"

And he was gone in a whirl of flames.

Arthur looked to his kids, Hermione, and Sirius. "You lot should hurry up and eat. After you send your letters off, you're still going to clean. And Ginny, you're going to start cleaning right away since you won't be writing a letter."

Hermione spoke up over Ron and Ginny's immediately protests. "I'll write to Neville too," she said, instantly silencing the two teens. "He and Harry spent a lot of time together after the end of the third task."

Ron glared down at his plate, jealousy pulsing through him. He tried to hang out with Harry as much as he could after the third task, but the messy-haired teen always disappeared when he went looking for him - only to turn up somewhere with Neville Longbottom of all people.

"Good idea," Molly nodded. "Well, hurry and finish eating. You've got letters to write."

Hunter looked at the boy sitting across from him, a small smile on his face.

He had gotten Harry up early to practice meditating in preparation for learning Occlumency. He had insisted on coming outside into the backyard, little ways in front of the greenhouse.

The weather was charming with a gentle breeze going, and Hunter thought it would help Harry relax better than being stuck inside the house all day.

And he was right; Harry had relaxed almost immediately when they first began. The young teen sat on a blanket with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. His eyes were closed and his face eased as he tried to even out his breathing.

"Once more," Hunter said softly.

Harry nodded and breathed in deeply, holding for a few seconds, before letting it out slowly.

"Focus on clearing your mind," Hunter continued in his quiet voice. "Keep steady, even breaths."

Harry did as he was told and kept his breathing as steady as he could make it. 'In and out,' he repeated calmly to himself. 'In and out.'

He kept his eyes shut and tried to focused on his breathing and nothing else.

He didn't know how long he sat there, forcing his breathing to be even and steady, studiously emptying his mind of anything and everything, before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He reflexively opened his eyes at the contact and found Hunter kneeling in front of him, his eyes warm, and the corners of his mouth tilted up in a smile.

"Good job," he said warmly. "You were able to meditate for thirty solid minutes."

"Serious?!" Harry asked in shock. "It only felt like a couple!"

Hunter let out an affectionate chuckle and mused his hair. "That's what meditation is like," he explained, his smile growing. "You're so focused on yourself that time passes by unnoticed."

"I thought that it would be harder," Harry admitted as he stood up.

"It normally is," Hunter conceded as he grabbed their blankets off the ground and handed them to the teen. "It all depends on a person's state of mind. For example, if someone is furious, they'd have an even harder time to clear their mind than someone happy."

Harry frowned in confusion. "But I am angry," he pointed out. "Not as much as yesterday, but I'm still mad at Dumbledore for everything. Shouldn't that have made it harder?"

Hunter let out a thoughtful noise. "That may be true in most cases," he reasoned. "But you're determined enough" - he paused before he let out a smirk - "or stubborn enough" - Harry blushed - "to keep at it until you calmed yourself down long enough to at least get started on the basics."

"Oh."

Another chuckle escaped from Hunter. "Head back inside," he said to him. "I need to check on some things in the greenhouse, then I'll make some breakfast."

Harry beamed. "Wicked," he said excitedly.

(And if Hunter had to clench his fists at the fact that the kid seemed so happy just to have more homecooked meals...well, no one had to know.)

Harry did a light jog back towards the house while Hunter made his way into his greenhouse. As soon as he entered, the regulated air of the place and the scents of the plants calming his anger down somewhat.

The sound of rustling brought a smile to his face as he walked deeper inside the glasshouse. When he came upon the source, the small smile he had bloomed into a full-blown grin. "Hello, Winky."

The House-Elf in question paused in her task before she turned and beamed up at her master. "Hello, Master Peverell, sir!" she squeaked. "Winky is just harvesting some potion ingredients, sir! Winky is being very careful and packing them away very carefully!"

Hunter smiled down at her. "Thank you, Winky," he said. "Take your time, so you don't injure yourself, okay?"

"Yes, Master Peverell, sir!" Winky nodded so hard, her ears flapped. "Winky is being cautious and will continue to be so, sir!"

"Good." Hunter wasn't really comfortable with treating Winky as his servant, but she was happier if he treated her like this. "When you get finished bagging or bottling the plants up, please label them and take them to my potions lab before you return back to Hogwarts, alright? And remember…"

"Don't let the evil Headmaster know Winky works for Master Peverell!" she said fiercely. "'Cause the bad man is trying to hurt young Master Harry and will end up destroying magic!"

"That's correct," Hunter nodded. "Thank you, Winky."

"It is no problem, Master Peverell! Winky is honored to be working for such an Ancient and Noble House," the House-Elf said enthusiastically.

"Carry on," Hunter uttered, another smile upon his face. Winky bowed to him once before he turned around and made his way back towards the house.

"Of course, Master Peverell," came the call from behind him.

Leaving Winky to her task, Hunter made his way back to Peverell Cottage with the intent of making breakfast for himself and Harry. They had gotten up early so he could instruct the messy-haired teen, so it was still early enough to have an excellent breakfast.

"Harry?" Hunter called out as he entered the house. "I'm going to start breakfast, is there anything you'd like in particular?"

His question was met with silence.

Hunter frowned. "Harry?" he called out. "Is everything okay?"

No answer.

Worry had begun to thrum through Hunter's body as he moved towards the living room.

No sign of him there.

Hunter frowned in concern before he decided to head to the teen's room, all the while wondering what was going on.

He pushed open the door and found the boy in question sitting on his bed, looking down at something in his hands.

"Harry?" Hunter asked again, stepping into the room. "Is everything okay?"

Harry's head had snapped up when Hunter said his name and turned towards the man as he came closer.

"Hunter," he said. He held out his hands. "Look."

The older man frowned as he looked down at the contents in Harry's hand. He looked up, his eyes soft. "I'm guessing Dumbledore figured out you aren't living with your relatives anymore."

There were letters in his hands from Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and the twins. "Yeah," Harry said. "That explains why they're writing to me all at once after weeks of silence," he couldn't help but add, his tone filled with bitterness.

Hunter sat beside him on the bed and wrapped an arm around him before he squeezed him in a hug. "Are you going to read them?"

Harry sighed. "Might as well," he grumbled. "It'll eat me up, wondering what they've said if I don't read it."

"I'm right here."

"I know," Harry smiled. He took a deep breath before he opened the one from Hermione. He cleared his throat before he began to read aloud:

Dear Harry,

Oh my gosh, are you okay?! Where are you?! Headmaster Dumbledore went to check on you because he found out that Dementors were attacking your home only to discover that you weren't even there! He said that you told your aunt that you went to live with a relative.

Harry, Professor Dumbledore said that you don't have any other relatives besides your aunt, uncle, and cousin. Whoever you're with is lying to you. You have to know that. Do not trust them, they're probably just using you, just like Professor Dumbledore said.

Write back to me as soon as you can; I'm apprehensive about you.

Love, Hermione J Granger.

Harry's gut was churning as he finished reading the letter, his chest flittering with emotion. 'Even if she was worried about me, why didn't she write to me earlier? And this letter...Dumbledore this and Dumbledore that...she really believes everything he says, doesn't she?'

A hand squeezed his shoulder and brought Harry from his thoughts. He looked up into Hunter's concerned face. "Are you okay?" he asked the teen.

Harry took another deep breath. "Not really," he admitted before he set aside Hermione's letter. The green-haired teen picked up Ron's and scanned it, not really wanting to see what the redhead had written. In truth, he doesn't trust Ron as much as he used to, and after reading Hermione's letter, he doesn't have the mental ability to read his.

"Ron's letter is kind of the same as Hermione's," Harry informed Hunter after he was finished skimming it. "The only difference is that Ron thinks that you're a Death Eater and that everything will be better once I got to where they're at."

"Ron thinks that every suspicious person is a Death Eater," Hunter deadpanned to Harry's amusement.

Harry ripped open Sirius' letter and started reading it aloud:

Dear Harry,

Are you okay, Prongslet? Dumbledore just told us that you don't live with your relatives anymore and that you went off with some random stranger.

Why did you go with someone you don't know, Harry? I know you're smarter than that; not even James did something like that when we were your age.

What's their name? Dumbledore said that you didn't even tell your aunt whether this new "relative" was a man or a woman.

Please write back, Prongslet. We're all worried about you, especially Dumbledore.

James and Lily would want you to be safe, too.

Sincerely, Padfoot.

Harry gaped at the letter for a good moment after he finished reading it. Then he exploded in rage. "Really?! He claims that he worries about me, but it takes Dumbledore telling him that he could to actually write?! And what was with him mentioning my dad like that?! I'm not him! I'm not going to act like him! Why does he...why…"

His rage quickly left him only to be replaced with sadness, and, to his embarrassment, tears began to gather in his eyes. "D-Dammit.." he bit out with gritted teeth.

He felt a hand cup the back of his head, and then he was pulled against a warm chest as he cried out his frustrations.

Hunter didn't say anything, merely held the teen as he cried into his chest, humming a little to try and calm him down.

It only took five minutes for Harry to cry his eyes out, but he felt better by the time he was done. "S-Sorry about that," he muttered, a blush on his cheek as he avoided eye contact with his guardian.

Hunter jostled their shoulders together. "Why don't you read the letter from Fred and George, hmm?" he suggested. "I think it'll cheer you up."

Harry smiled weakly. "Maybe."

He opened the last letter, and began to read:

Dear Mini Marauder,

So we finally got the go-ahead to write to you regularly instead of in secret, which will make talking to you much more straightforward.

But first things first; how are you, Harry? We never really got a chance to talk to you before we all went our separate ways. What you went through would be traumatic for grown adults, let alone a fourteen-year-old boy like you, which is why we sent you a letter earlier to let you know we were thinking about you.

Dumbledore came to us earlier today, saying that you left your relatives to live with a relative. He doesn't believe that this person is your relative, however, so he asked all of us to contact you to see if you would tell us who this person is.

But we know you, Harry. If you trust this person, then that's enough for us.

Feel free to write back now that we don't have to hide anymore.

Can't wait to hear from you, little brother.

Sincerely,

Fred and George.

Harry was smiling as he finished reading their letter. "They really are good friends," he admitted.

"That they are," Hunter agreed with a smile.

"So, what now?" Harry turned to the older man. "Dumbledore knows I'm not with my relatives anymore."

"Well first, we need to teach you Occlumency ASAP," he said as he got up to gaze out the window. "We don't need unwanted people invading the privacy of your mind."

"Also," Hunter said as he turned to face the teen, a smirk on his lips, "we have about a month before you have to go back to Hogwarts. I say that in the meantime, we mess with some heads."

Harry felt a grin growing on his face as he understood what Hunter was implying. "Let's do it."