A/N: First of all, I want to thank every reviewer. Your support is much appreciated, and without you I wouldn't have updated my story that quickly.

To Aimeretvivre: in case you didn't know, your opinion is worth a lot to me. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed your last instalment.

To PaC: I appreciated both your pointing out my mistakes and your compliments. Your comments haven't been ignored, and I'll edit my previous chapters accordingly.

I knew Dean's father was a wizard in canon (according to Word of God), that's why I modified Dean's background in my AU. It's not canon, but it's canon-compatible.

I'm glad you loved the wand-bonding scene. It wasn't there the first time I envisioned my story, but it popped into my head and I was like 'I cannot not write it'. Now I have to make it plot relevant, though.

Harry swears a lot in this chapter. Beware if you're easily offended.

DISCLAIMER! My Lady Rowling owns Harry Potter. She doesn't own my original characters, but it's something like a shared parenthood in my opinion.

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Minerva McGonagall was mostly known as Hogwarts' deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor and transfiguration teacher. She had taught there for thirty-four years, and a consequent part of wizarding Britain knew her as a strict, but fair professor. What people tended to forget was her role in the last civil war.

To the members of the Order, she had been a powerful ally. To the death eaters, she had been a fearsome enemy. She had duelled against Antonin Dolohov and stood her ground. She had faced Crabbe and Goyle simultaneously, and had forced them to flee. Countless inferi had suffered her wrath, and even the giants had learnt to respect her power.

For all intents and purposes, Minerva McGonagall was a veteran. A war hero, even. An order of Merlin, first class, was hung in her office. She had earned this distinction while defending the families of her muggleborn students against the death eaters onslaught. On that fateful night, she had held back Voldemort himself until Dumbledore's arrival – she wasn't alone against the Dark Lord, mind you, but the feat was still her greatest achievement.

It was saying something when you were seeing McGonagall frozen in fear. However, no one could blame her for that one moment of weakness in years. The Dark Mark was back.

"Impossible" she breathed. But yet it was there, a green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. The old nightmare was floating above Flourish and Blotts, at the very heart of wizarding Britain. So many memories were conjured ! The deaths of the Bones and the McKinnons, the martyrdom of the Longbottoms... Every time the death eaters were committing a crime, they would sign it with the Dark Mark.

To her credit, Minerva didn't stay idle for a long time. As soon as she recovered, she rushed to the book shop as fast as possible.

Inside, chaos ran rampant. Books were scattered on the floor, people were panicking, crying and screaming. Someone had kicked the nest of ants. The deputy headmistress saw a sobbing girl comforted by no one, a blond boy restrained by an adult, and, to her eternal consternation, she witnessed four wizards kicking another, beating him muggle-style.

"CEASE THIS NONSENSE AT ONCE, YOU FOOLS !" she thundered.

The men looked at her in surprise, and then in guilt. They were young. Three of them had attended Hogwarts, and one had been a Gryffindor. Perhaps it had been the memories of past scoldings, perhaps it had been Minerva's natural authority, but all of them moved apart from their victim.

The man tried to lift himself up. He was bruised, with a blue eye and blood at the corner of the lips. His long, platinum hairs made him easily recognizable. The man was no friend of her, but Minerva McGonagall didn't relish in the humiliation of an old foe. She liked to think she was better than that. She turned a hard gaze toward the former Gryffindor, who paled considerably.

"Alexander River," she said coldly, "I'm rarely ashamed, but at this instant, my pride as Gryffindor's head of house has experienced its worst slap in the face since Sirius Black's betrayal. That one of my lions would take part in such a cowardly, barbaric display is a disgrace beyond measure for me. You'd better explain yourself."

But the former Gryffindor shifted uneasily and didn't dare answer. Instead, Lucius Malfoy's harsh laugh resounded in the quiet shop as the injured man was recovering, supported by his worried-looking son.

"Didn't you see the Dark Mark above the building, deputy headmistress ? Some fool has tried to reignite a dead fire, and I was an easy scapegoat for those who feared the flames."

He sent a venomous glare in the direction of his aggressors, and added:

"Bunch of hypocrites. You think you're saints because you don't have the spine to use the cruciatus curse. And of course you'll get away with it, because I was on the losing side last time, and the ministry will find you convenient excuses. I spit on your self-righteousness, cowards !"

"Will you be all right, Mr. Malfoy ?" asked Minerva with a slight touch of concern.

"I've been beaten to a pulp in front of my son. Of course I won't ! I need to go to St. Mungo, and even once my injuries are healed, I'll have a hard time swallowing this humiliation."

Minerva couldn't quite meet Malfoy's eyes. They were full of hatred, and she couldn't exactly blame him. Instead, she turned toward the sobbing girl. To her horror, the deputy headmistress recognized the bushy hairs of Ms. Granger, and realized a phrase was written in boils and ugly buboes on her young face.

'I'VE LEARNT MY PLACE'.

It was low and despicable. To inflict it on a mere child ! And she knew exactly why she had been targeted: the act reeked of pureblood's bigotry, and the girl was muggle-born. Minerva kneeled in front of her, and took her in her arms.

"Everything will be fine, Ms. Granger" she whispered softly. "The healers will fix your visage very soon, and you'll be back at your parents'. Are you hurt somewhere else ?"

"N-no, thank you professor" sniffed the girl. "B-but it was so frightening ! I was speaking with Harry, and, and, suddenly that man attacked, there were ray of lights every where. Harry had been knocked down, people were crying, my face was hurting, and he was laughing at us all !"

"Harry was here ?" gasped Minerva, alarmed. "Where is he, Ms. Granger ? I don't see him anywhere !"

"I don't know ! He was unconscious and... Oh no ! Do you think he was abducted ?"

Alas, it was a very real possibility, therefore the deputy headmistress nodded weakly. The Boy-Who-Lived had probably been targeted all along, and the poor girl had simply been in the way. Before Minerva could speak again, however, a detachment of Aurors entered Flourish and Blotts, with three men she knew very well leading the way.

William Weasley. Kingsley Shacklebolt. And of course Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror. Amelia had sent the big three of her department to work out the crisis. It was only logical, but still reassuring. All of them were skilled investigators and powerful wizards in their own right.

When Lucius Malfoy saw them, however, his scowl of distrust became quite visible for everyone. But the youngest of the three Aurors merely smiled at him, and it wasn't a kind smile, nor a smile of pity: it was the grin of a cat catching sight of an injured mouse.

"If it isn't the honourable Mr. Malfoy !" he said with false joviality. "It seems the day was hard on the poor man."

"You're enjoying the sight, Weasley ?" hissed the blond man. "A true pureblood beaten, his pride trampled down, you blood traitors must dream of it every night."

"Let's not fight, gentlemen" intervened Scrimgeour disapprovingly. "The situation is dire enough as it is. Auror Weasley, go upstairs and see if you can find anything of note. Auror Shacklebolt, make sure no one leaves before we're done. I'll handle the eye-witnesses."

"Yes, sir !"

Once his subordinate were attending their assignment, Rufus Scrimgeour turned his head and looked intently at the peoples in front of him.

"Now, I'd like to what in Merlin's name has happened here, and why I'm dealing with a Dark Mark above Diagon Alley instead of a quarrel between quidditch fans."

"A death eater attack, that's what happened !" said a man, and some others nodded in approval.

"I fear I need more details" retorted Scrimgeour dryly. "When did the attack occur ? Who has witnessed it first hand ? And, most importantly, who attacked in the first place ?"

The men looked at each other, but all of them had arrived in the aftermath of the incident. Scrimgeour was already anticipating a long and arduous investigation, when the girl next to McGonagall stepped forward.

"I was here from the very beginning, sir" she declared in a timid voice. "It started perhaps ten minutes ago, when a man began to throw spells at everyone in sight. But I couldn't describe the culprit. It's strange, his head is blurred in my memories."

'A Cunfundus, certainly' thought Scrimgeour. "Anything else, miss ?" he asked aloud, as gently as he could. "Every detail can be useful."

"Well, he stunned Harry first, just as we were discussing purebloods customs..."

She was cut by Lucius Malfoy's loud snort, but the Head Auror sent the former death eater a dark glare, and invited her to continue.

"Harry ? Is he a friend of yours ?"

"Not really" admitted the girl. "I've just met him, but I've heard he was raised among the muggles too, so I was excited to speak with him." Then her expression turned dead worried, and she asked, her voice slightly panicked: "Can you search for him, sir ? I don't see him anywhere, and I think he might have been abducted !"

"Abducted ?" repeated Scrimgeour, frowning. "Why do you think so ?"

But it was McGonagall who answered his question.

"Because he's Harry Potter" she said grimly.

All blood in the Head Auror's veins turned into ice as the book shop was exploding in whispers and outcries. His day was getting worse and worse with every second. If the word spread that the Boy-who-lived had been abducted by a death eater, Crouch would have his hide, especially after having gloated in the Prophet about how the ministry had to take credit for the boy's reappearance.

"Sir," called the voice of William Weasley, "I think you should look at the ceiling."

And Scrimgeour did just that. On the ceiling, only three words were carved, but that was more than enough to make him wish he had a Time-Turner.

'Untouched. Untainted. Unforgiving.'

Of all people, it had to be him. The most elusive criminal in all Britain. Mad-Eye's very nemesis. The bane of the muggleborns.

Evan Rosier.

The first thing Harry noticed when he finally regained consciousness was the dim light of the room where he was laying. The next one was the handcuffs on his wrists. They were made of a strange metal, with engraved symbols on the round parts. Harry scowled in displeasure. Having his hands tied wasn't a problem by itself, but Harry hated to be restrained. Moreover, he was feeling weak right now, and being weak wasn't something he could afford.

What happened before he was captured came back in full strength, and hit him in the guts. 'I'm lucky to be alive' he realized with a grim expression on his face. He had been foolish, and had allowed himself to be caught unaware. Consequently, he was at his captor's mercy. Not a spot he liked much.

'At least I've still my wand' he thought with relief. His most treasured possession was in his pocket, ready to be drawn – even if the handcuffs would have make the movement a little awkward. A little reassured, Harry lifted his head.

"Hello, Harry" greeted a warm voice. "I'm sorry we have to meet in such difficult circumstances, but my situation doesn't allow us a more formal introduction."

The man was young, probably thirty, give or take a few years. He had blond hairs and blue eyes. Electric blue, in fact, which was weird, but Harry own pupils were of a strange shade of green themselves. His visage was coloured and full of life, with delicates and almost feminine features. At first glance, he didn't seem very dangerous, but he was playing with a key made of the same metal as the handcuffs. He was probably the one who had surprised Harry earlier, and thus far from harmless, if not outright lethal.

"Who are you ?" asked Harry angrily. "What do you want ?"

"You don't know me ?" exclaimed the man in genuine surprise. "And here I thought I was famous – or at least, infamous. I'm not featuring any Chocolate Frog card yet, but my face is on a lot of walls, you know."

Harry's mind was racing. The man sounded like a wanted criminal, and, knowing his own luck, probably was a death eater too. Dolohov was supposed to be in his late fifties at best, and perhaps even older, so it was either Rosier or Black. McGonagall had told him to run away from both man and call the Aurors as soon as possible, should he ever cross their paths.

Fleeing was precisely what he was trying to do The room had two windows, but their shutter were closed, and the death eater was between him and the door. Therefore, he had only one possibility: his personal road of escape, what Snape had called apparating.

He called forth his power... and nothing happened. Horrified, Harry kept trying, but to no avail. He was effectively cut apart from his magic. A sickness began to grow in his stomach while he was looking at his wrists in shocked realization. What were those monstrosities ?

"Ah, yes, these bracelets prevent you from using your magic" explained the blond man. "They're a gift from an Auror friend, a few years ago. I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have it on good authority that you're dangerous far beyond your years. As you probably see me as enemy, I thought they were necessary so we can have a little chat."

"You attack me in broad daylight, you abduct me, you admit you're a death eater and you freaking cut me from my magic" growled Harry. "Of bloody damn course I'd see you as an enemy ! Why don't you take these cuffs off of me, so I can trust you a little more ?"

"Ah, that is, well, not happening" grinned the death eater. "Anyway, in case you didn't guess, I'm Evan Rosier. I'm glad to meet you at last."

"The pleasure is definitely not shared" spat Harry. "Don't bother to try and sound friendly, I know you want to kill me."

"To kill you ?" repeated Rosier. "Why would I want to do such a thing ?"

"I don't know, go ask the rest of your merry band of masked bastards !"

"I think there's a misunderstanding" stated the blond man. "Even if idiots like Crabbe might have tried to kill you in order to avenge the Dark Lord, it doesn't mean every death eater wants you dead. In fact, some of them may even be willing to help you actively."

"Such as you ?" asked Harry, dubious. "I find it hard to believe. Why would they do that ?"

"Well, I can see two reasons. The first is fairly stupid, but some former death eaters seem to think you might be the Dark Lord reborn."

"WHAT ?" cried Harry. "That's beyond ridiculous !"

"I know, I know" sighed Rosier while rubbing his chin. "But they were so caught in the myth of invincibility he had been forging that they can't imagine he's gone, especially not because of a one-year-old. The only explanation they've found is that he swapped bodies for a reason or another. Of course, it's ludicrous."

"And the other reason ? Is it any better ?"

"Why, yes" the death eater smiled. "Some of us former death eaters have accepted the fact the Dark Lord is dead, and want to associate with you in order to gain power and respectability. After all, who would doubt their repentance if they have the support of the Boy-Who-Lived ? Of course, the Potter family's fortune is nothing to scoff at either."

'That makes some sense' Harry admitted grudgingly. At least Rosier wasn't claiming the death eaters would help him out of sheer good will. It would have been a big snake to swallow.

"And you ?" he challenged the man. "What is your reason for sparing me ?"

"Curiosity" answered the man cheerily. "And blood ties too."

"Blood ties ?" frowned Harry. "We're related ?"

McGonagall had never mentioned such a thing. And she talked a lot about his family.

"Well, not directly" conceded Rosier. "My wife, however, is a cousin of your father, so one could consider I'm your uncle of sort. That's better than a blood-thirsty death eater, isn't it ?"

"You can be both" reasoned Harry. "And I can't be sure you're saying the truth."

Yet the boy had the sinking feeling he was. And it unsettled him a bit, as did the thought a death eater could be married. What if the one he killed had children ? Would they hate him ? Would they try to get revenge ?

"You're right, you can't" acquiesced the blond man, apparently unconcerned. "But why would I lie ? As soon as you're out, you'd be able to find out. It would be very pointless indeed. As I said, I'm just curious about you."

"Why ? Because of this 'Boy-Who-Lived' nonsense ?"

"Partly. But mainly because you're James Potter's son. I used to admire your father, you know ? We were in the same year at Hogwarts. It was hard not to notice him, really. He was brilliant whenever he wanted to be, a true genius in transfiguration, and of course an incredible prankster."

"A prankster ? It's a strange reason for admiring someone."

"Ah, but I was one too" smirked Rosier. "Admittedly, I was on the other side of the prank war – he was in Gryffindor, I was in Slytherin. Still, I had a healthy respect for him, unlike good old Severus. For me, James was everything a pureblood should be. Proud, daring, and so talented. Had I been a Gryffindor, maybe I would have been one of his closest friends – after all, if Pettigrew was in the band, why not me ?"

Harry recognized the two names. Severus was Snape, of course, and Peter Pettigrew was a faithful sidekick in most of McGonagall's tales about his father's time at Hogwarts. Apparently, the poor man had been killed by a death eater in the aftermath of the war. To speak about him in such a manner, Rosier must have had no shame.

"The only thing I could blame him for was his taste in women" continued the blond man. "Don't get me wrong, your mother was powerful and brilliant too, not to mention rather easy on the eyes, but she was a mudblood. He could have chosen any pureblood girl, including my own sister, but no. It had to be the temperamental, bossy, insufferable mudblood."

"I'm glad he chose her" retorted Harry dryly. "Else I wouldn't be there."

"Well, I suppose you have a point" laughed Rosier. "In the end, it seems you're your father's son more than anything else – it's incredible how much you look like your James. So much that I'm almost surprised there's no young Sirius nearby."

"What do you mean, a 'young serious' ?" frowned Harry.

"Sirius" corrected the blond man. "Like in Sirius Black – you've certainly heard of him. He and James were the best friends in the world since the very moment they met, in the Hogwarts express. Ever since, they were barely seen apart from each other."

"But... Wasn't Black a death eater ?"

It made no sense. Everybody acted as if Black was an evil second only to Voldemort himself. And they also sounded like James was a saint. How could they have been friends ?

"He wasn't. In fact, he was fighting against us, alongside James Potter and Frank Longbottom, and usually winning, to be fair. However, he never killed anyone during the whole conflict. He was one of the few to keep his hands clean. That was surprising for everyone, us and them alike, for the Black family wasn't exactly known for its mercy. After the death of the Dark Lord, however, I thought it was a good thing he'd acted so."

Evan Rosier paused, looking pained and saddened.

"And then he murdered Peter Pettigrew. His own friend. Soon after, he was deemed a traitor, someone who sold informations to the Dark Lord, and he went into hiding, like me."

"Was it true ?" inquired Harry. "Was he a spy ?"

"Maybe, maybe not" answered Rosier. "I was too young to be a member of the Dark Lord inner circle, and if it was true, only his most trusted servants would have known."

Then he frowned, and added:

"I don't know what my opinion is worth to you, but with Sirius, it was all or nothing. If he disliked you, he would never change his opinion. If he liked you, however, nobody was as loyal, as fiercely protective as he was. Furthermore, he always was a very bad liar. When caught by a teacher, he would rather be brash and provocative than try to talk his way out. If he was a traitor, then he was a traitor since his first year at Hogwarts, and the best actor in the world to boot."

"Why are you so honest with me ? Weren't Sirius your enemy ?"

It bothered Harry a great deal. Evan Rosier was very talkative and open-hearted – not at all how he imagined a death eater would be. How had he ended as one of the three most wanted men in Britain ?

"I told you, you're family to me" declared Rosier.

Then he threw the little key to Harry, who barely caught it in surprise. As soon as the cuffs fell on the ground, he felt his magic flowing back and sighed with relief. It seemed his breath had become lighter, easier, and his shoulders less tense. He prepared to leave the magical way, but Evan sent him something else, a silver medallion harbouring a rose and three 'U'.

"It's a Portkey" he explained. "Say the word, and it will transport you back to Diagon Alley."

"What is the word ?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"It's 'Family'" smiled Evan, but Harry didn't share his mirth at all. Instead, he winced.

"I don't acknowledge you as family" the boy said. "I still hate the death eaters, and I know you were one. Don't think I've forgotten how you brought me there either. I remember all too well how you've hit me in the back, and how has screamed the girl I was talking with."

"The little mudblood with the long teeth ? To be honest, I was planning to wait until she went away, but well, she didn't. In the end, I couldn't bear to listen her spouting nonsense any longer. I swear, she's eleven, she'd just discovered a world of wonders existed, and the first thing she does is to insult a millennium of uses and customs ! She had it coming and, frankly, she was rather lucky it was me in the library. What I did was no worse than a mean prank, whereas a psychopath like my cousin Bella would have killed her on the spot."

"Being better than someone evil doesn't mean you're a good person !" retorted Harry with some incredulity.

"Very wise, Harry" approved Rosier. "I suggest you remember what you just said, for the next time you meet with someone who lived through the war. Even if he did fight against the Dark Lord, it doesn't mean there's no bad blood on his hands. Just ask the Malfoys and the Parkinsons."

Harry was about to demand explanations right away, when something began to whistle in the blond man's pocket. When he took it out, it looked like glass spinning top, but it moved on his own. Evan twinkled, and declared:

"My dear old Sneakoscope says time's up. Mad-Eye or some other Auror must be on my track. Well, it was nice to meet you, dear nephew. Until next time, please take care of my little girl."

And before Harry could ask anything else – like, what the heck a Sneakoscope did – he disapparated with a loud 'Pop'. The raven haired boy was free and alone once again, which suited him just fine. Well, not exactly free. The door of the room was still locked, and Harry didn't feel like using force to break it. It was... unnecessary.

He looked at the silver locket in his right hand. With mild shock, Harry realized it was the first gift he ever received. Or rather, the first he could remember – the first since he turned seven. It was a disturbing feeling to get a present from a wanted criminal whose former comrades had tried to kill you a hundred times. Maybe he shouldn't be too surprised if he ever received an expensive broomstick from Sirius Black.

Would he use the Portkey ? Of course, Harry couldn't rule out a trap, even though it wouldn't make sense – why set such an obvious trap when you had your target tied and powerless for fifteen minutes? Then again, nothing made much sense with Evan Rosier. The man had appeared in broad daylight to abduct him, despite being sought by every Auror in the country, and had done nothing to him saved talking and giving presents.

Allegedly, Harry just had to say a word, and he would be back at Diagon Alley. Three syllables. It was far easier than his own brand of magical travel, far less exhausting. Honestly, Harry was tempted. He didn't really think Rosier meant him any harm, and it would allow him to keep his apparitions skills secret in case someone asked how he had escaped.

But Harry also felt like saying the word would give the man a much wanted victory. Somehow, it would mean he had accepted the kinship between him and the former death eater. While the man probably wasn't an enemy, Harry wasn't willing to trust him that far.

Still, his lonely heart couldn't help but desire what Evan had offered him. Deep inside, he knew it as something he never had, a hole begging to be filled, a common happiness he'd never reached before.

"A family..." Harry whispered distractedly.

One moment later, Harry was once more lying on a wooden floor, cursing the wizards and their weird means of transport. Portkeys weren't as uncomfortable as apparition, but they were still an unsettling experience. More importantly, like Floo travel, it made him fall on the ground, and it was deeply humiliating.

"Wha- !" exclaimed a girl's voice, startled by his unexpected arrival. Harry couldn't exactly blame her, especially considering that, had he seen someone appear in front of him all of a sudden, he would have reacted rather more violently.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" as he was about to apologize, Harry froze. The girl was awfully familiar in a lot of different ways. She was about his height and frame, with long, raven-black hairs much like his own. Her features were vaguely reminiscent too, but, more striking than anything else, her eyes were blue. Electric blue.

"You aren't related to Evan Rosier, are you ?"

Harry's question was almost rhetorical. It fitted all too perfectly. This shade of blue wasn't common, and it couldn't be a coincidence. Not when the former death eater had used 'Family' as a keyword to activate the medallion.

"He's my father" she answered weakly, lowering his eyes in shame. "But why- ?"

She let out a little cry and held her hands on her chest before she could give an end to her question. Harry had exhibited the silver locket, and was holding it by its chain. He could clearly see why she had reacted so: there was a very similar chain on her neck. If Harry was willing to gamble, he would have bet a hundred galleons on the presence of an exactly identical medallion under her robe.

"Where did you find this locket ?" she gasped.

"Your father gave it to me as a Portkey" answered Harry dryly. "That's why I've just appeared from out of nowhere."

"You were with him ! Tell me, how is he ? I haven't seen him in months !"

That made Harry raised an eyebrow. Evan Rosier was a wanted criminal since ten years ago, and she hadn't seen him in months ? Apparently, the girl had realized how compromising had been her exclamation, as she began to glance at her surroundings frantically. Harry imitated her, though more subtly, and easily recognized the place. He was back at Ollivanders, and the wand maker was apparently absent, as no one but the both of them could be seen inside.

"He's fine" he told her once it became clear they were alone. "Maybe a little too much. He tends to talk a lot, doesn't he ?"

"Yes" she giggled. "Dad likes to chat more than mum does. She teases him about it every time they meet."

Then she tilted her head and asked:

"You don't hate him, do you ? Everybody hates dad, I think. They say he's a monster, a terrorist and a murderer, but I don't believe them. He's so kind when he's with me !"

"I hate all death eaters" Harry winced "and your father is one of them." But then he saw how his answer was filling her eyes with pain and chagrin, and he felt like his own chest had been stabbed. There were many things Harry didn't like, but somehow her expression was worse than most. Sorrow and loneliness were so painfully visible on her delicate features, her eyes so tearful that Harry couldn't help but sympathize. Still, he had only told her the truth about his feelings, and he tried to steel himself.

'Take care of my little girl' had said Evan, and those six words came back at the front of Harry's mind, almost accusingly. However, why should he abide the wish of a death eater ? Who had been there for him when he had been crying, alone in the night, tired and starving ? Certainly not Rosier ! Then why, why did he care about how his daughter felt ?

'You're family'.

… Yes, that would have been Evan's answer for sure. Damn him. Damn the friendly bastard.

"However, to be perfectly honest, I don't actually hate him" Harry declared lightly, correcting his previous sentence. "After all, your dad never wronged me ('though he did abduct me' he added internally), and he even gave me a present, so I can't bring myself to loathe him as much as I should."

It wasn't exactly heartfelt, but it did have a positive effect on the girl's mood. She looked at him with a hopeful spark in the eyes, and began to smile tentatively.

"Really ? You're not lying ?"

"I wouldn't lie to a cousin" assured Harry, making her eyes widened in surprise.

"A cousin ? But I don't know you, how could you... Oh ! Unless you are- "

"Mr. Potter ? When did you enter my shop ?"

Ollivander was back, accompanied by a black-haired woman, who Harry assumed was the girl's mother – and Rosier's wife – as she looked very much like her, even if her own eyes were hazel. She seemed almost too young to be the mother of an eleven years old, barely older than in her mid-twenties, and very beautiful too.

Fascinated, Harry watched as her astounded expression became one of fondness, and as her lips began to stretch into a large smile. He could definitely see why Evan Rosier had married her, though he couldn't understand why she had married him. She was a radiant sun of grace and goodness. Clearly, he didn't deserve her.

Harry was so engrossed in his contemplation he barely seen her walk straight to him, and when he finally noticed how close she was – closer than he usually allowed anyone to be – it was too late. She had already knelt and was pulling him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so, so happy ! I'd never have thought I'd see you so soon !"

And while she was hugging him, Harry slowly relaxed. At first he had been tense, and even a little panicked to have let an intruder penetrate his personal space. In fact, had she been someone else, his reaction would have been quite different – he would have recoiled, or even pushed her back. As it was, however, he felt strangely warm inside, and was almost regretful when she backed away, her hands still on his shoulder.

"You've grown so much !" she marvelled. "But I shouldn't be too surprised – it's been ten years, after all. You were a tiny new-born the last time I had you in my arms, and Lily immediately claimed you back."

"Ah... Is that so ?"

"Yes, she was fiercely possessive when it came to her loved ones. You have her eyes, you know ?"

"I know" half-grinned Harry. "And I look exactly like my father, don't I ?"

"Not exactly" chuckled the woman. "You have a shorter nose than he had. But it's true, you're clearly your father's son. Oh, James would have been so proud ! I can practically see him beaming every time someone notice it !"

"You were his cousin, right ?" asked Harry.

"Indeed ! We were almost raised together. But how did you know ? You can't possibly remember me, can you ?"

Harry hesitated about what answer to give – 'your husband abducted me and told me so' didn't sound too good – but the blue-eyed girl was faster, and began to whisper in her mother's ear.

"I see" nodded the woman, who seemed a little sterner all of a sudden. "Well, perhaps a formal introduction is needed ?"

"It would be nice" agreed Harry. " I'd like to know your names."

"My name is Sophia Rosier, née Bones" smiled the black-haired woman. "My mother, Marianne Potter, was your great-aunt."

"I'm Jane" added her daughter with a curt bow. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too" answered Harry earnestly.

And it was nice indeed to meet someone whose eyes were bright and the joy obvious when he met them. There was no awe, no surprise, no pity. Jane and Sophia were simply, but deeply and sincerely, glad to see him.

"I hate to intrude" interjected Ollivander "but I believe miss Rosier was here to buy a wand. The uproar outside has startled us, but maybe we should get started before the Aurors arrive ? Or, on the contrary, wait until they've come and gone."

"The Aurors ?" frowned Jane. "What happened ?"

"Someone has cast the Dark Mark above Flourish and Blotts" announced Sophia sombrely. "Everybody is panicking, and the Aurors are searching the whole area, including Knockturn Alley. I think they should be here soon."

With a great sense of timing, two men knocked opened the doors. One was a tall red-headed young man, while the other was older, shorter and tough-looking, with greying brown hairs and a solid frame. Both were wearing the silver insignia of the department of magical law enforcement.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen" greeted Ollivander. "Can I be of help ?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander" answered the oldest of the newcomers. "I don't suppose you saw Harry Potter or Evan bloody Rosier recently, did you ?"

"Well, as a matter of fact..." began the wand maker while eyeing Harry curiously.

"The boy's here !" exclaimed the Auror happily. "Well, Rufus will be able to breath at last – I thought he was going to choke out when he learnt the Boy-who-lived had disappeared."

"John" said his comrade quietly. "Take a quick look at who's with him."

The red-headed didn't look nearly as rejoiced as his companion did. Instead, his sharp eyes were filled with suspicion as he was glancing at Sophia.

"What ?" the older Auror blinked. "Oh ! But they are..."

"Exactly. The family of his presumed abductor. What do you think it means, John ? A conclusive proof they'd been helping a deater all these years ?"

Harry tensed at the accusation – as accurate as it probably was, considering Jane's slip a few minutes earlier. Next to him, Sophia's fists were tightening, while her daughter had paled and grabbed her left harm. Surreptitiously, Harry made the locket disappear into his pocket, and seized his wand instead.

"I couldn't say, Bill" frowned 'John'. "Maybe it's a coincidence ? After all, we're not even sure Rosier was responsible for his disappearance – I don't think the boy would be alive if he was, do you ?"

"Who knows how a deater's mind works ?" winced the younger Auror. "I think we should interrogate them, just to be sure."

"Don't you have anything better to do ?" spat Sophia. "I swear, any time Moody's bored, he comes and asks questions to us so he can find Evan. I've had more than enough of your Auror's inquiries for a whole lifetime."

"Moody is a cautious man" shrugged the young Auror. "Beside, he can't help it if you're suspicious."

"He's completely paranoid, you mean ! And obsessed with my husband to boot."

"Maybe, but this obsession isn't misplaced – you're husband is still an active criminal. We've found the Rosier's motto carved on the ceiling of Flourish and Blotts, where a muggle-born girl had been vilely assaulted. Don't you think it's time to denounce him ?"

"How is she ?" intervened Harry to diffuse the tension. "The muggle-born girl, I mean."

"Fine" answered the other Auror. "A few carbuncles on the face, nothing dangerous. It was a school-yard hex, really."

"Not worse than a mean prank, then ?" Evan wasn't the lying type, it seemed. Harry was relieved to learn the Granger girl was fine, but the red-headed snorted loudly.

"It was still a cowardly attack from a grown up wizard on a young, vulnerable girl. I don't understand how any one can find him excuses after all the crimes he committed during and after the war."

"While we are at it," retorted Sophia with daggers in her eyes, "did you finally find out who killed Hawthorn Parkinson ? I think I could help you, you know – half of Britain could ! Too bad you're not interested when the victim isn't on the winning side."

"Are you trying to imply the Auror office is protecting a criminal, Mrs. Rosier ?"

"There was nothing implicit in what I've said, Mr. Weasley. Everybody knows the Auror office serves Crouch, not justice."

Instantly, the Auror's wand jumped into his hand. The young man's eyes were burning with anger as he was pointing his weapon at Sophia. But the black-haired woman didn't flinch and didn't seized her own wand.

"Go ahead" she sneered. "Forget who I am, what I've lost during the war. Forget which blood had to be spilled so the ministry could gather his guts and fight back. Forget the fact I'm as much a martyr as you are. Go ahead, William Weasley. Channel your inner death eater !"

During a brief instant, the red-headed looked like he was about to spit fire at Sophia. However, it didn't last more than a few seconds, as the young Auror was blasted off the ground with a loud 'BANG !', flew across the shop like a bullet and crashed through the frontage. While everyone was gawking at his lying body, Harry tried to look innocent, but failed dramatically due to the beatific smile he was harbouring.

Initially, Harry had only wanted to push back the threat. Not much, maybe a few feet. After all, his life wasn't in danger, and while the red-headed had been annoying and aggressive, Harry knew that, despite his posture, he likely wouldn't have attacked Sophia.

But he had been holding his wand, pointing her through his pocket so not to let his target enough time to react, and that had made all the difference. The power he had put into his spell wasn't that great, but holding his beloved stick of holly had magnified the effect. She was truly a wonder ! Such efficiency looked like a miracle to him, and he had to admit he had been thrilled while casting, causing him to channel too much magic.

"You !" roared the other Auror, and his own hand had jumped into his hands. "You've attacked my partner !"

But he was glaring at Sophia, not at Harry, and it got on the boy's nerve. While she was an adult, and had been the one to directly antagonize the red-headed, it seemed to him as if his abilities had been discarded, just because he was a child.

"No, that was me" Harry declared, stepping forward and surprising everyone, including the tough-looking man, whose eyes blinked before he snarled.

"Why, you little..."

"For Merlin's sake !" exclaimed someone behind him. "What's happening here, Auror Dawlish ?"

Immediately, the Auror jumped and stepped aside, standing at attention. With yellowish eyes and long hairs and side-whiskers, the newcomer rather looked like a lion, and seemed accordingly self-confident. From a quick glance, Harry could tell the man was holding a position of authority, and it was only underlined by how the greying-hairs Auror had reacted to his arrival.

"We've found the boy, sir" answered Dawlish. "But he's just assaulted Bill !"

"I didn't mean it !" lied Harry. "He was pointing his wand as auntie Sophia, and I thought he was about to hex her, and I was afraid !"

"Just because he held her at wand-point doesn't mean he was about to hurt her, you brat !"

"In my experience, it does !" snapped Harry, who thought he was doing a fine job impersonating an upset child.

"He has a point, Auror Dawlish" sighed Scrimgeour. "Weasley's nerves got the better of him again, didn't they ?"

His subordinate didn't answer and looked away uneasily, but that was enough of an answer by itself.

"I thought so. Go inform professor McGonagall we've found Mr. Potter, I'll handle the rest here."

Then he turned his gaze to Harry.

"You had us worried, my boy. Do you remember what happened at Flourish and Blotts ?"

"I do, sir" acquiesced Harry. "I've been taken by surprise and stunned while I was speaking with miss Granger. The next thing I knew, I was awakening in a narrow alley-way not far from here. Then I saw something strange fleeting above the book store, and I entered Ollivander's shop to ask what it was. A few minutes later, the two Aurors arrived, and it led us to the current situation."

"That's all ?" inquired the Head Auror. "The man who attacked you is a very dangerous death eater. I find it hard to believe he would just take you and drop you a few doorsteps further. Did you notice anything about him ?"

"That's all I remember, sir" persisted Harry. "Whoever the bloody bastard was, I haven't been able to see his face back at Flourish and Blotts."

"Harry, language !" interjected Sophia with a mildly shocked voice, but neither Harry nor Scrimgeour seemed to care. Their eyes were locked into each other's, and the boy could clearly see the Head Auror was doubting his word. It was more than slightly worrying, because Harry knew his lie was rather sloppy. He didn't even knew whether there was an alley-way nearby or not ! Even if he could feign surprise upon the discovery of a medallion in his pocket, Harry didn't doubt a seasoned investigator would find holes in his fake story, especially with whatever magical methods he had at his disposal. Truly, his deception was a dangerous gamble.

"Very well" nodded Scrimgeour, despite Harry's fears. "There's no reason to think the Boy-Who-Lived would protect a death eater. I suppose your meeting with Rosier's family was more or less a coincidence, boy ?"

Harry wanted to laugh. If what he suspected about the lockets was true, it wasn't a coincidence at all. Beside that, he almost completely agreed with the Head Auror – he had no good reason to protect Evan Rosier. He had only silly ones: a family bond he didn't know he had a few minutes earlier, and the tears he imagined Jane would shed if her father was found culprit of yet another forfeit.

"I don't know, sir" he dead-panned. "Why should I link meeting my aunt and cousin with the attack at Flourish and Blotts ?"

"Indeed, why ?" murmured Scrimgeour, his sharp, yellowish eyes still on Harry. He opened his mouth to speak again, but what he was about to say was lost when McGonagall entered the shop. Harry flinched a little when he saw the expression on the teacher's face. If she was relieved to see he was alive, she was hiding it well beneath a mask of stern displeasure, not far from reaching a state of cold anger.

"Mr. Potter" she began. "I hope you have a good explanation for leaving Madam Malkins before I came to pick you up."

Oh. That. Well, retrospectively, it sure looked like a bad idea – after all, it ultimately led to his abduction by Evan Rosier. Unfortunately, Harry hadn't an excuse ready, so he went for the bare truth.

"Uh... I felt like it ?"

The subsequent glare made him understand why McGonagall was so suited for the role of head of the Gryffindor house. You had to be insanely brave to risk that woman's fury ! Hell, even Scrimgeour seemed to fear her, as he was backing off to let her handle the situation. The deputy headmistress was scary when angered.

"Really, Mr. Potter ? I dare hope you won't complain about whatever punishment I feel like inflicting upon you, then."

Yes. Definitely scary.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

I fear Harry is a little OOC in this chapter, compared to the previous ones. Oh well, he is eleven, isn't he ? He's not supposed to be in character H24.

Loads and loads of characters in canon, and I just created two original characters, as well as revived one who was dead ten years before book one. That's an alternate universe for you. Rest assured I had good reasons to create the Rosiers. I don't think I could have given the role they'll play to any other family.

By the way, don't you find it strange that, while all purebloods are supposed to be related to each others, the only cousin-cousin relationship mentioned in canon is Sirius-Bellatrix and her sisters ? The only relevant one, anyway.

I'll try to update on a weekly basis, but it won't be easy. Hopefully, the next chapter will be finished before the 3rd of July.