Disclaimer: The rights to the Harry Potter series go to J.K. Rowling. All original ideas present in this belong to me.

Chapter Six | Contracts and Clauses

Dragging my trunk down the steps of the Hogwarts Express I thank every God known and forgotten that I asked for wheels on the bottom of the damned thing. Even with a featherweight charm, trunks are horribly unwieldy. Yes, I can pick it up, but its still wider than I am tall. Why has the wizarding world never thought of using rucksacks with space expanding charms? Or any bag that's not a purse or satchel. Damned traditionalists.

I say a quick goodbye to Hermione, Padma, and Lisa, hugging them briefly before following Daphne and Tracey through the heaving crowd, expertly sidestepping clueless parents reuniting with their children as we avoid getting clubbed in the head by the luggage being tossed around us. Damned trunks. Both Tracey and I are spending the holidays at Greengrass manor. Apparently, her parents aren't really in the picture, so to say. I haven't heard the details, and I won't press it, but I know it has something to do with her mother being a muggle. Maybe after finding out Tracey was a witch, she got scared? I don't know, but it's her story to tell.

"There he is! Hey daddy!" Daphne suddenly cries, dropping her trunk and rushing towards who I guess is Octavius, a wide and imposing man with short cropped black hair and a tidy goatee, practically leaping into his arms as she hugs the life out of him. Laughing and smiling widely, he sets her back to the ground before shuffling her trunk out of the way of the passing crowd and pulling Tracey into a hug.

"Good to see you Tracey! I can't believe it's only been four months! I was hoping that I'd finally gotten rid of you," he jibes, laughing as Tracey jumps out of his embrace and scowls back at him, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing loudly.

"You couldn't get rid of me if you tried Occy. Daphne would sick Terra on you," she scoffs, giggling at his dawning expression of horror. He laughs again, eyes glinting as he turns his gaze to me, extending his hand.

"It's good to finally meet you Miss Potter and put a face to the name. You look just like your mother did at your age," he says, a more reserved smile gracing his features.

"Thank you Lord Greengrass, it's a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard the same from my Professors," I reply, setting down my luggage to shake his hand.

He shakes his head, patting me lightly on the shoulder. "You don't need to call me Lord Greengrass, any friend of my daughters can call me Octavius."

"Thank you, Octavius. Call me Helene." I smile back at him, glad to see a bit of humility from someone who could easily be quite similar to Malfoy, considering the power he wields.

Octavius turns towards the girls, clapping his hands together and motioning for them to pick up their trunks. "Now then, girls are you all ready? Just grab hold and we'll be back home before you can say Yule."

Following the other two I snatch a fistful of Octavius' robes before the world turns in on itself, pressing down on me as if I'm being squeezed through a small pipe, the pressure building and building indefinitely before reality comes rushing back from it's short vacation and I find myself in an opulent entrance hall. Through bleary eyes I view the hall that is decked out in a tasteful mint green accompanied by rich cherry walls. Twin stairs on either side of us curve up towards a second level, decorated in the same fashion. I moan quietly, my stomach quivering for just a moment before I very quickly find myself painting the very lovely hardwood floors with my breakfast.

"Oh dear," Octavius gasps, vanishing my sick and kneeling in front of me. "You've never apparated before, have you? That was incredibly inconsiderate of me, are you alright?"

Meekly nodding my head as I quell my raging stomach I croak out, "So that's what apparition is like, huh?"

Octavius inclines his head in affirmation. "Yes, one second please. Tricksy! I need a nausea potion!" He shouts, a pop announcing the house elf's arrival. Tricksy silently hands him the potion. "Thank you Tricksy. Please drink this if you would Helene. You should feel right as rain."

Thanking him I toss back the concoction, grimacing slightly at the thick, bitter liquid racing down my throat, but happy to feel my stomach immediately calming down.

"Daphne, would you and Tracey be able to show Miss Potter to her room? Tricksy has already brought her trunk upstairs."

"Yes daddy," she says, grabbing me by the hand and racing to the second level, Tracey having no trouble keeping up with Daphne's sudden burst of energy, and me doing my best not to trip up on the stairs and break my nose. Daphne drags me down the left hallway before she's suddenly tackled by a small blonde missile that appears out of nowhere.

"Tori! It's so good to see you!" She cries, hugging what looks to be a small clone of herself, the only difference being the younger girl's hair. She introduces her tiny doppelganger. "Helene this is my sister Astoria. Astoria, this is my friend Helene Potter."

Wide eyed, Astoria, or Tori, runs up and hugs me as well. "Hi Helene! I didn't know you and Daphne were friends! She doesn't send me letters which really sucks," she babbles, glaring at her sister. Her head spins back to me like a top, already going back to her mile a minute questioning. "It's really brilliant to meet you! What house are you in? Did you really fight a dragon in Germany? What about the vampires in Norfolk? Why aren't you a boy? I remember Daphne saying that in a letter, but I was very confused."

"Astoria, it's Astoria, right? Just, give me a second alright? Calm down," I snicker, surprisingly unaffected by gaining myself another fangirl, but at least this one has some attitude and doesn't squeak and run away when she sees me. Cough Ginny cough. "It's lovely to meet you too, and to answer your questions; Ravenclaw, no, and no. Any books you've read about me are untrue," I explain, giggling at her disappointed expression. "I'm sorry to say that I'm not really a hero. I'm just Helene." Daphne snorts at that, garnering a glare from myself. "The reason I'm not a boy is because I never was. All those publishers got it wrong and it just sort of snowballed from there."

"Well that's a load of tosh," she grumbles, stamping her foot childishly, her bottom lip sticking out in an impressive pout. "Why would they write them then?"

"Probably to make a quick galleon. Doesn't really matter though, your dad is going to help me sue those guys who lied about me and get my money from them."

Astoria beams at that, Octavius obviously being the light of her day. I guess Astoria is the daddy's girl, and Daphne is momma's. "Okay now, shoo Tori, I've got to give Helene the tour, I'll see you at dinner okay sis'?" Daphne interrupts, hands on her hips as she stares down Astoria. The two glare at each other, before Astoria gives up under Daphne's steely gaze.

"Alriiiiiiight," she sulks. "After dinner we'll play though, promise?"

"Promise," Daphne replies, sticking out her pinky and swearing the most important of all promises. The forever sacred pinky promise. "Now go! We have to unpack!"

Giggling, Astoria races back towards the stairs, the sounds of her feet loudly thumping through the house as Daphne leads me the opposite way, ending up at a door situated towards the end of the hallway.

"Helene, this is your room. You can find Tracey directly across the hall, and if you need me or my dad and mum we're in the family quarters off on the other side. My room is the first on the right." She points back past the stairs. Drawing herself up taller and pointing high to the ceiling she exclaims, "Tonight we're going to have… a sleepover in my room!"

I pale dramatically. Oh no. I can deal with rooming up with Hermione as we're both academically focused people, or, I am now and don't have to worry about anything too overtly girlish living in the same space as her. But this? I never signed up for sleepovers! Saints preserve us! I swear that if there's anything remotely resembling a makeover I'm going to head straight back to Hogwarts. I may feel much happier and more comfortable in this body, but makeup is just… no. Not for me. I like to have a clean face, thank you very much.

I walk into my room for the holidays, amazed at the size of it. A large four poster bed rests against the right wall, made of the same cherry hardwood as the rest of the house, there's a door set opposite to the bed, leading to an en-suite bathroom. Large windows make up most of the far wall, providing a view of the impressive gardens behind the manor, while a wardrobe is set up beside me, adjacent to the bed.

"Daphne! Would I be able to speak to your friend Helene? It's regarding her family business," Octavius shouts from downstairs, his voice echoing off the walls.

Sighing, Daphne gives me leave before letting me know that I will not, quote, "by any means attempt to weasel my way out of our sleepover." I guess she could see the fear written on my face when she made her announcement. Damnit. That girl is scarier than Hermione when she wants to get her way, and that's saying she's down right terrifying. No wonder the other Slytherins left her alone.

I make my way downstairs and follow Octavius' voice, taking a right through a pair of imposing French doors and finding myself in what I imagine is the Manor's sitting room. Two large couches are set up in the centre of the room, a coffee table situated between them. Bookcases line the walls, along with a large liquor cabinet and a fireplace stationed between tall stained-glass windows overlooking the Manor's grounds. All in all, it's incredibly impressive yet not overly lavish. I guess it's their way of stating their wealth without hedonism. This must be reserved for friends as opposed to guests.

"Please, Helene, take a seat," Octavius drawls, apparently in 'lawyer-mode,' as he lays out parchment over the table. "I'd like to go over all of the documents pertaining to your family. Specifically, we will go over any land that your family owns, the extent of their assets, any outstanding contracts or debts, along with your parent's final will and testament."

Nodding at him I sit back and observe as he explains the necessary steps to properly claim my properties, those being Potter Manor, the destroyed cottage in Godric's Hollow, along with a vacation home located near Marseilles. Apparently, I must claim my place as the Head of House Potter to gain access to them, something I can go over another time. Additionally, if (and when) I do ratify myself as House Head I will immediately be emancipated and recognized as an adult, something that will be quite helpful for me later down the line. I don't want to end up in any trouble because Dumbledore has power over me as a minor. I should get that done before the hols is over just to be on the safe side.

Secondly, I'm quite wealthy. I know Rockseeker told me that I was wealthy when I made my trip to Gringotts a couple months ago, but I think he downplayed it. When someone says wealthy, they don't mean filthy stinking rich.

"You have multiple family vaults Helene, one is solely used for British Galleons, Dragots, and other physical currencies, be they magical or muggle. You have a second vault set aside for family heirlooms and artifacts, along with a third vault, that one being your trust vault. All of your cash wealth converted into galleons would amount to roughly… eight million galleons, give or take a few sickles. Additionally, you have a good share of the Daily Prophet, under which you have a controlling share of two of their subsidiaries, Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly. You have stocks spread out amongst other companies, those being Nimbus, Cleansweep, and Descartes Potions Ltd."

Holy shit.

"Excuse me Helene?"

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, yes you did," Octavius replies, stifling a laugh. "If I may continue?"

"Yes, sorry! Please go ahead! Sorry about that!"

"It's alright, I would probably say the same in your shoes, just don't let Terra catch you talking like that." He grins at me before continuing. "You also own the Leaky Cauldron, Gambol and Japes, as well as the plot of land in Hogsmeade that Scrivenshaft's is built on. I won't go into the muggle stocks that your mother invested in as I'm not familiar with muggle financials, but they seem to be doing quite well. Especially their investments in technology and computing companies. Regardless, financially you're to be considered one of the wealthiest in Britain, only lagging behind houses such as Malfoy, Black, LeStrange, as well as Longbottom. Are you ready to go over contracts and other related matters or would you like a minute?"

"If I could have some tea that would be fantastic, thanks," I say, eager to enjoy a hot drink while going over everything.

"Absolutely, Tricksy? Could you please get us both some tea?"

Tricksy quickly pops over holding a tray laden with biscuits and a large teapot before we return to work and cover everything else. Much to my relief, all the outstanding contracts and debts are quite simple to sort through, nothing so daunting as a betrothal or end-of-line clause due to me being the only Potter left. I will admit that I was sweating a bit when Octavius mentioned that there may be a possible betrothal contract from way back when, but it only applied to a first-born son, as opposed to a daughter. Thank Merlin I dodged that. Dumbledore apparently didn't deem it important to tell me that I was engaged to marry Morag MacDougal in my last life. Hell, I don't even know the girl. I can't even imagine how awkward that would be. I'm not an expert on relationships, but I know that would breed resentment.

After about two hours of mindlessly drudging over the paperwork and two more cups of tea we make it to the most important document. "The infamous will, the final piece to our little puzzle," Octavius muses, pulling up the parchment and scanning it quickly. "Now, I understand that you had questions regarding the legality of you being placed with your cousins ten years ago, so that will be the most important thing that we'll cover. As far as the financials go, we've covered those extensively and from what I can tell by looking at the will everything is ship shape on that end compared to our previous conversation."

A second scan over the will causes him to look deeply concerned, holding the parchment in front of him like it carries a deadly disease. "The will clearly states here that you were to not be placed with your cousins in any circumstances, so that lines up with your ideas in the first letter you sent me. Something is not quite right here." Sipping from his cup he then picks up another piece of parchment.

"As I'm your solicitor I'm able to request any documents regarding you Miss Potter, and what I found extremely interesting is that the ministries copy of your parents will was never executed, by order of Albus Dumbledore, who placed you with your cousins so many years ago. Evidently, he saw fit to shoehorn himself in as your magical guardian according to these papers." His hand shakes slightly as he passes over the sheet of parchment.

"This is all highly illegal and under the table, and if I may say, absolutely reprehensible," Octavius spits. "There's no feasible way that Dumbledore would have been able to accomplish this without abusing his powers as Chief Warlock, and either way, what he's done is illegal. If he used his authority as Chief Warlock that will be considered extreme abuse of his position, and if he didn't use that authority he must have confounded or obliviated the employees who were to process the will."

"Fuck," I mutter, astonished at the lengths Dumbledore has taken to keep me under lock and key. I'm assuming he didn't have a chance to actually read the will, considering he hasn't obliviated Octavius of the knowledge that I'm a girl, and not a boy.

So why then, in third year, did Sirius believe I was Harry? Fuck. Dumbledore must have obliviated him or tampered with his memories. The same with Remus…

Fuck.

"I agree."

"So, you're saying Dumbledore illegally placed me with my cousins and basically cheated his way into preventing you or the Longbottoms from adopting me?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Give me one second please. I need a drink," Octavius growls, striding over to the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a shot of firewhisky, quickly downing it before returning to the table with the glass and bottle.

I breathe deeply, considering my options for a moment. I think now is as best a time as any to lay all my cards on the table and let Octavius know what's going on, considering he's already broken out the hard liquor. If he doesn't believe I've time travelled… well, I can always obliviate him, right?

Ugh. I feel instantaneously guilty thinking that, grimacing internally that I could even consider tampering with someone's mind like that, especially someone who's helping me.

"Octavius… I haven't been exactly straight with you since we started exchanging letters, since we started talking." I hesitate, my voice wavering. "I've been keeping secrets."

"And what child does not keep secrets?" He inquires as he pours himself another drink.

I hold a hand out, fidgeting nervously with my fingers and trying to keep myself from staring at the floor. "Okay this is going to take me a little while to explain, but I trust you and I know due to our contract you can't tell anyone about what I say unless I give you permission."

Eyebrows cocked, Octavius leans back into his seat, waiting for me to continue. I take out my wand, casting silencing and privacy charms on the room, as well as a notice-me-not. Octavius almost drops his glass as he realizes what I'm doing. I hold a finger up. "Please, just give me one second."

He stares at me, confused as I go through a breathing exercise, calming myself down. "I'm sorry if this places you in a bad spot, but I have to tell someone," I confess, steeling myself and drawing up a touch of Gryffindor courage. "I'm a time traveler."

"What!?" He laughs, a great belly laugh that reverberates through the room. "Come on Helene, that's a funny joke, but you don't have to be so serious about it." He pauses, his fading chuckles faltering rapidly when I look back up at him, my face still devoid of any hint of humour. He drops his glass all of a sudden, pulling out his wand as it shatters against the floor, a bit of whiskey spattering across the bottom of his robes. "Tell me now before I carve you to pieces. Are you really Helene Potter?"

"Would it help if I swore an oath?" I retort quietly, staring down the wand that's now pointed at my neck, quietly accepting the fact that I may have my head cut off at any moment. Octavius nods, but keeps his wand trained on me as I point mine in the air, taking care not to direct it towards him. "I swear on my life and magic that I am Helene Lily Potter, I am originally from the year 1996, and I do not wish any harm upon Octavius Greengrass and his family, so I swear, so mote it be," I vow, light flaring brightly from the end of my wand.

Octavius relaxes when I don't immediately drop dead, signifying that I actually am back from the future. Hmm, that sounds kind of catchy, back from the future. That would make a good band name. "So… you're what, fifteen years old? Sixteen?" He says this in a challenging tone, still a touch skeptical as he repairs and summons the broken glass, vanishing the spilled liquor.

"I was sent back in mid June, I think it was the 16th or the 17th. I was… would be? Fifteen years old at the time. I arrived here on July 24th," I explain, trying to remember the details.

"Sorry, you said sent back? This wasn't an accident with a time turner?"

"Yes, sent back. I think it would be best if I explained everything from the start." I watch as Octavius fixes himself yet another drink, this one much larger than the last. He summons another glass, pouring a few fingers of liquor into it and forcing it into my hand. Shocked I stare down at the liquor and look back at him, "I've never drank before," I say, perplexed.

"Well, a situation like this is the best time to start. Cheers." He toasts me, taking a healthy swig and humming quietly.

Shrugging, I toss back the firewhisky. I immediately begin coughing violently as the liquor burns my throat, tears streaming down my face and eyes widened in fear as I belch out a small tongue of flame.

I smack myself on the chest, clearing my throat. I start my story, deciding to begin with my upbringing at the Dursley home. I have to stand up and calm Octavius after detailing the abuse and neglect I underwent at their hands. "I'll take care of them on my own time, alright?" I challenge. "I already burnt their fucking house down, so there's nothing for you to worry about."

Chuckling wryly, Octavius nods his acceptance. I start to talk about my life at Hogwarts, conveniently ignoring the fact that I wasn't always a girl, as I think he would be none too pleased to have me in his house if he was aware of that.

He curses loudly when I tell him about the Philosophers Stone being placed at Hogwarts, and blanches when I explain that Voldemort isn't quite as dead as the world thinks he is. I continue, describing the events of my second year with the Chamber of Secrets and the revelation of Voldemort's origins. I move onto third year's fiasco involving Sirius's escape from Azkaban along with the reveal of Pettigrew as my family's betrayer.

I discuss the trials involved with the Tri-wizard Tournament, as well as Voldemort's revival. Octavius takes out a notepad and jots down the wording used for the ritual, explaining that it could be sabotaged by vanishing all of the graves in Little Hangleton. I smack myself in the head for not thinking of that. What's the use in traveling through time and space if you're not going to disrupt an evil ritual! Damn I'm an idiot!

I end off detailing my torture under Umbridge, the battle in the Department of Mysteries, the unknown prophecy, and my subsequent brush with Death. Octavius almost falls off the sofa when I explain that my time travel is a result of me dying too early and how much of a pencil pusher Death is. He's just as shocked as I was to find out that Death has a surprisingly good sense of humour.

"So, you went through fifteen years of absolute hell, died, and got sent back to have a second stab at life because of red tape?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I echo incredulously. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, and it's my life we're talking about.

"Wow… that's something," Octavius murmurs, finishing the drink that was left untouched during my story and subsequently falling back into his seat.

"Let's set some facts straight. First off, Dumbledore should in no way hold any political seat, let alone be Headmaster of Hogwarts after what he's done, or to be more specific, shall do," he asserts, scribbling onto his notepad. "Dumbledore has left an artifact in the school to tempt Voldemort for some godforsaken reason. This artifact has been set behind traps that a trio of first years can break through without too much trouble." He scratches his head dumbly, horrified at the insanity of it all. "In the year to come, he will not make a statement regarding the rumours and allegations towards you being the Heir of Slytherin and will do absolutely nothing about the thousand-year-old basilisk roaming about the school."

Clearing his throat, he continues. "I never quite understood why people were so quick to name Sirius as your parent's betrayer, considering he and your father were practically brothers in all but blood. If Sirius has been placed in Azkaban for all these years and Pettigrew has been living right under Dumbledore's crooked nose, that means that again, Dumbledore has ignored what is going on right in front of him. I wasn't the closest of friends with Remus and Peter, so I wasn't aware of their abilities, but Sirius did tell me about his form." He pauses to take another sip of whisky, absentmindedly massaging his throat. "But, I have serious doubts that Dumbledore was not aware of Pettigrew being an unregistered animagus and is keeping him around, as well as keeping Sirius in prison for some unknown reason. I'm assuming this is in some way related to the prophecy you mentioned."

"So, is Dumbledore practically a sleeping Dark Lord or the like?" I chime in, shocked to go over all of the details that shouldn't have only been glaring in hindsight. How did I not realize that the danger and insanity I went through at Hogwarts could have easily been prevented if Dumbledore simply did his job properly?

Octavius shrugs emphatically, holding his hands out as if to say, 'who knows?' "He bloody well could be considering everything you've told me." He pinches the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath. "So, fourth year, you were forced into the Tri-wizard Tournament. Dumbledore could have easily verified if you had placed your name into the goblet, as well as prevented you from competing since he's your current magical guardian."

I swear loudly at that. That ancient prick! I nearly died in that tournament. Cedric did die! He just allowed it to happen? Octavius notices my growing temper and reaches across the table, patting my knee comfortingly. My mind races, but I manage to snarl out, "He could have gotten me out of the tournament?"

"Regardless of what he said, that contract is not actually unbreakable, and anyone can discover that with a little research. Additionally, there's no chance at all that he was unaware of Crouch impersonating Moody. Dumbledore has known Moody since he attended Hogwarts and they've been steadfast friends since Moody's graduation, providing him with an outstanding reference for auror training. Finally, in your fifth year he either allowed, or again, ignored Umbridge torturing students as well as running her own illegal secret police within the school. He's the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts. Even though he wasn't Chief Warlock at the time, him saying he has no power over any of those situations is a blatant lie."

I slump into my seat, the weight of the conversation making its presence known. I pour myself another bit of firewhisky, chugging it and grimacing at how it burns on the way down. "Christ, I always thought he was just old and making mistakes. I mean, no one can be completely infallible, and he is getting on in years."

"Considering how you were raised, it makes complete and utter sense that you weren't able to work out that he was allowing these things to happen. Helene… don't get me wrong, you're a smart and powerful witch according to what you've told me, but you came into our world an abused and broken child. It's no wonder that you immediately latched on to the first person to extend you some semblance of kindness, even if it is fake."

"I know hindsight is 20-20, oh, muggle phrase, sorry," I explain at Octavius' perplexed look. "It means to look back on something and see it perfectly, when you couldn't understand it in the present," I add. "I just can't believe how horribly obvious this all is after telling somebody about what happened and having that somebody look over my life objectively."

"Honestly Helene, I'm surprised you've still come out of this as composed and well-adjusted as you are. Most people would come out of your trials a gibbering mess. You're definitely made of stronger stuff."

"Thank you, Octavius. That means a lot to me."

"It's fine Helene. If you would like, I have some ideas on how to approach things from here on out and change this world for the better. Taking down Dumbledore will be difficult. We will in one form or another bring him to his knees, but he seems to have orchestrated every disaster in your life. If I may hazard a guess, Tom Riddle taking up the moniker of Voldemort may have been the fallout of his meddling as well. Is it not curious that Voldemort would have been about your age at the time that Grindelwald was at the height of his power?"

"What do you mean?"

Octavius pauses, tapping his finger against his jaw. "What I mean, is that Voldemort may have been placed into the same situations you were, and was left utterly broken as a result," Octavius explains, putting his hand up as I begin to protest. "I am not saying that you two are similar, and I am not at all condoning his horrible, inhumane actions over the course of his miserable life. What I am trying to say, is that Riddle may have been groomed by Dumbledore to fight Grindelwald in the same way that Dumbledore has groomed you to fight Riddle."

"Holy shit." That… that makes perfect sense.

"I agree. If you were not as strong a person as you are, I believe you may have resorted to learning dark magic in secret just as Riddle did. I mean truly dark magic. The Black Arts. Not what the Ministry purports as dark due to the spells being complicated or obscure, but malicious and evil spells, as well as sacrificial rituals and the like." He scowls, his voice dripping with disdain as he describes the hellish practices. "If we want to take down Dumbledore, we need to somehow make it known to the world how deep these manipulations go. You said you had issues with Rita Skeeter in your fourth year, and that she's an unregistered animagus? A water beetle to be exact?"

"Yeah, she was a ruthless gossip monger that year, and I believe she was still working during my fifth year when the Ministry started a smear campaign on me and Dumbledore, even though Hermione was blackmailing her. Since we didn't get anything in writing, she could have easily published under a pseudonym."

"Excellent," Octavius states, laughing at my surprised look. "I believe she will be incredibly important if we want to destroy Dumbledore's public image. She can easily use her animagus form to collect sensitive information on him. Best of all, you've got sway at the Daily Prophet, so we can feed her information regarding the negligent goings-on at Hogwarts, starting with the trapped corridor and the Philosophers Stone. I'll send a tip to the DMLE when you're back at school. With all the students there it will be impossible to sweep under the rug, as they'll most likely time their investigation during lunch or dinner. A confrontation between Amelia Bones and Dumbledore in front of the staff and students will make our argument iron-clad."

"So… we're going to use the sheep against the shepherd?"

"Exactly. I also think that we should get you emancipated as soon as possible and have you take up your place as Head of House Potter. This will provide you with political safety as well as remove any financial influence Dumbledore has over you."

I consider reaching over the table and pouring myself another bit of firewhisky, but I can feel the haze settled over my mind and forgo it. I'm not going to get pissed the first time I visit Daphne's house. Talk about bad first impressions. "That all makes sense, but what about Riddle? He's got sixty years of experience over me, and because of the prophecy I'm always going to be a target."

"Well, that's going to be a bit more straightforward. All we have to do is train you. The first step towards your training will be getting Sirius freed from Azkaban. He deserves his freedom, and you both deserve to be around family, someone you can trust. Sirius was a phenomenal auror during the last wizarding war and will be able to show you the ropes and teach you how to duel, and more importantly, how to fight."

"I can study on my own time as well," I add, remembering the massive tome I was given. "Flitwick gave me one of his lexicons on charms and has been providing me with tutoring. I'm sure I could swing some extra training with him."

A sharp crack announces Tricksy's arrival, quietly letting us know that dinner is ready before another crack signals her departure. Realizing how drained I am, I rub tiredly at my eyes as I get up and follow Octavius to the dining room. We're immediately interrogated by Daphne and Tracey as to why we've taken so long.

"I'm sorry dear, there was a lot of complications and paperwork to go over with Helene and we got carried away. Don't worry, me and Helene are done with our work and she won't be kept away from you any longer," he apologizes, patting her on the shoulder before taking his seat at the table.

Daphne sniffs at this, as Terra enters the room and jokingly scolds Octavius for 'stealing Daphne's friend away.' I stop and stare for a moment, entranced by her. Terra is a beautiful woman, and I can see clearly what Daphne and Astoria will eventually grow to look like. Terra is quite tall, with an athletic build and long silky blonde hair that rests on her shoulders, loosely framing a very sharp yet stunning face. I notice that both Daphne and Astoria have gained their mothers sculpted feature and are wearing the same aristocratic expression.

"Now dear, I know you love your work, but I don't believe that eleven-year-olds are as enthusiastic as you when it comes to old and outdated laws," she mocks playfully, tapping her husband on the arm.

"I'd have to argue with you on that one love. Helene, did you enjoy our conversation?"

"It was definitely enlightening," I cajole, giggling as I carry on. "I never knew solicitors were allowed to be relaxed or have fun. Every other one I've met has been scarily uptight."

Terra snickers at this while Octavius makes a face at me, before laughing himself.

"Come on, sit down next to me," Tracey demands, pulling me by the hand and planting me in my chair. I smile at her, picking up and taking a bite out of the meat placed in front of me, groaning in pleasure at the explosion of flavour.

"What is this?" I ask excitedly, already spearing another piece and chomping down on it.

"Peking Duck, it's a Chinese dish," Terra answers, reaching across the table and folding the meat into a small wrap after garnishing it with a dark brown sauce and a smattering of veggies. "This is how you eat it," she explains, handing it to me.

The food is fantastic, and the whole dinner experience is a casual affair, with Terra and Octavius asking all of us how we're enjoying Hogwarts so far. The questions are very domestic, asking about our favourite classes and whether or not we need any help with the more difficult courses, particularly potions and transfiguration. I feel a tickle behind my eyes, surprised that I'm close to tears. Sitting here with Daphne's family feels so natural, like it was always meant to be.

Sure, I've spent plenty of time at the Weasley's, but it's always raucous and chaotic there, with everyone shouting over one another to get a word in and constantly bickering. Here though, I can see that Terra and Octavius truly love Daphne and Astoria, extending that same love to Tracey. Images flash through my mind of what could have been. Me, my Dad and Mum sitting around a small dinner table in Godric's Hollow, blank faced siblings excitedly joining us as we enjoy our meal. Mum sitting down with me when I run into any trouble with school, Dad teaching me magic, vacations, everything that I've missed out on due to a raging psychopath and a manipulative old man.

Octavius notices my change in mood and an uncertain frown crosses over his face. I look over at him, noting the unabashed worry behind his eyes. That's what breaks me. I hiccup loudly, feeling a catch in my throat as I begin to cry, shocked that I find the whole situation so terribly happy, yet, so terribly sad. Terra is like lightning, immediately sliding out of her chair and appearing next to me, cooing softly in my ear and holding me tight as I shake and sob. Daphne and the rest of the other kids drop their cutlery, sitting there dumbly and staring at me in shock before Octavius shoos them out of the dining room.

"Helene dear, is everything alright?" Terra consoles me, turning my head to look at her, motherly concern etched in her features. "If you don't want to say anything you don't have to, but if I can help I will."

This just serves to turn me into a blubbering mess, eyes puffy and red as tears pour down my face. Great painful sobs coursing through me as I quietly wail, murmuring unintelligibly. Terra picks me up and takes me back into the sitting room, gently pulling me into her lap on one of the couches as Octavius returns with some hot chocolate.

"I'm sorry," I mutter, wiping the tears from my eyes as I try to get myself under control. "I've never… I've never really seen what a family is like, you know? It all hit me at once."

"Helene, it's okay, we're here and we can help," she frets, running her fingers through my hair as she looks questioningly to Octavius.

He pulls up next to her and whispers into her ear, telling her quietly about the Dursleys and my upbringing. Anger flashes across her face momentarily before she regains her confidence, passing me the mug of hot chocolate, returning to calmingly stroking my hair, cradling me in her lap. I begin to doze off, exhausted after such a long day. I fall asleep calm, happy to finally know for just a moment what having a mother is really like.

Edited, 21/05/18.