I dunno if your angry at me, I'm angry at me, but I left for a while because I felt that I couldn't write anymore. And in that time, I think my writing ability got better, and I got a lot smarter in the punctuation department. Oh, and I got obsessed with Death Note and various other mangas, haha. Anyways, I feel that I matured more in my absence and I had the sudden urge to write, so I did. So here we go! New chapter of 'Are We The Waiting?' for ya! (I still think its suck-ish...)

Oh! And before I forget, I discovered that Green Day's song, which I've named my ficcie after, is actually 'We Are The Waiting.' I felt so stupid, but it came out as Are We on my computer when I ripped it... Or is that wrong too? Ahhh...

Chapter Four: Family

Harry awoke a few mornings after the incident fully rested, but still not quite yet healed. He looked around curiously at his surroundings and warily compared it to the Tellytubby Headquarters he had seen Dudley look in awe at every morning, only it was much better than the weird dome with that had the freaky looking yoghurt dispenser. Anyone else might have described it as a secret government lab/hospital made for the special psycho loony cases, but to him, it had the first blaringly bright 'Welcome Home!' banners he had ever seen. Not to be too literal, of course.

The boy looked more closely and saw that one of the banners was rustling slightly. Harry cocked his head to the side, expecting to see a loose cat but instead saw a familiar mop of

Jimmy popped up from behind one of the banners, checking to see if the coast was clear of the annoyingly fussy Nurse's Aid he called his girlfriend. After checking twice, he quickly looked both ways before he ran the distance from the door to Harry's bed and rolled to the left side of the hospital bunk, pretending he was under a barrage of bullets or laser beams. He pointed both of his index finders in opposite directions, pretending that he was hitting the enemy back and, as soon as he had killed all the enemies, promptly sat down next to the giggling boy.

"How're ya feeling, kiddo?"

"Fine, thank you," Harry said politely, still trying to hold back a grin. "I- I feel a lot more better now..." - he idly played with the frayed bandage peeking out from under the clean white pajama's that they had dressed him in and shifted slightly, making a move to stretch his stiff legs. The small, pale boy wiggled his toes, enjoying the feeling of the soft, clean cotton rubbing against his skin. His blankets the Dursleys had given him were only ever washed every few months, and even then they weren't properly washed.

Jimmy grinned. "I'm glad our service is up to par," his voice grew serious, "What I'm surprised about is, though, that you haven't asked a single question about why we took you here... You're a smart boy, Harry, and even smart boys ask questions," he peered into Harry's green eyes and searched for an answer, but it seemed that he was 7 years too late to find them.

Harry's vibrant green eyes were hard, and were no longer windows to his soul. The boy had long learned that showing emotion in these sort of circumstances, other than the occasional smile or giggle that he let out when in the company of people he knew he could trust, would only get you hurt. It had become a habit.

The 8 year old shrugged, but seemed a bit worried, like he had did something wrong. He answered, in spite of his fears of being smacked, "I- I just felt I could t- trust you... M'sorry, sir!"

The teen raised an eyebrow at being called 'sir'. "Now, see here!" Jimmy said with a playful tone, "You don't need to be calling anyone sir until you turn ten! That's when we'll explain to you more about our jobs, 'kay? For now, we'll tell you about family. But maybe tomorrow? You look like you could do with some food."

Harry visibly relaxed, but was still tense on the inside. He nodded and squirmed.

2 Years Later

A almost-ten-year-old Harry Potter stood in front of the Royal Protection Force trainees, holding Leah's hand awkwardly as he was introduced to the men and woman that would soon be his trainers, best friends and bodyguards. They all saluted him and smiled or grinned as he adressed them as Sir or Ma'am.

Walking down the line of cadets, Harry finally reached the end where he saw a familiar smiling face. Or rather, two familiar smiling faces. Jimmy and his daughter, Delilah, who was just about 13, mock saluted him with identical smirks on their faces. Harry grinned back and jumped into the older girl's arms as she hugged him tightly.

The short boy (his growth had been affected by his pour nourishment at the Dursleys) then let go of his second cousin and stood next to her in his rightful position and waited for the Royal Officers to address them.

It would be one hell of a year, that's for sure.

Howgwarts, Headmasters Office

Dumbledore's expression was grave. How had Harry been taken right from under their noses, and willingly so? Why had he let those... miscreants affect his mind so greatly? He was about to find out.

Waving his wand over a shimmering, metallic blue potion that reminded him of his own Pensive, he summoned a vial of the Potter-boy's hair and dropped one strand into the potion and watched as it dissolved and turned into hundreds and thousands of memories. Gently poking his finger into a promising looking picture, he was sucked into the young boy's world.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" A tall, dark haired teen- no, man- asked, ruffling the Potter-boy's already messy mop.

"Alright, I guess..." The child answered. He looked about eight.

The memories were black and white, but only his eyes were coloured. That brilliant colour, the same as his mother's.

"Good to hear," Jimmy said. "So, I promised you a tale of family and here it is. You know how you ended up without parents?"

Harry nodded. "They died in a car crash... U- Uncle Vernon said that they were drunk nothings... Th- That they didn't care for me..."

"That's not true. Your parents, Harry... My Aunt and Uncle..." Jimmy paused, burying his head in his hands. He continued, "Were killed, murdered by a psychotic freak-o. That psychotic freak-o just happens to be your- our- Uncle by marriage rights. Aunt Lithie's marriage, to be exact." He scowled sourly.

Harry looked confused, but gave of a single for Jimmy to go on.

"Your mother was my father's sister, as well as Lilithia's. Their youngest sister, and heir to the throne. She was a target of many, but very few. Loved by all, and hated by all, some would say. She was really pretty, too. The attempted assassinations got so frequent that we had to try to hide her and the power that the radiated. So their mother- our Grandmother, rest her soul- sent Aunt Lily to the next best place to keep her. The wizarding world."

Don't give me that look! It does exist, but they are almost as bad an enemy as the assassins. They only want us for our power and freakishly good looks. On your eleventh birthday, you'll receive a letter from the school that your mom attended; an acceptance letter."

Jimmy went on and described the world to Harry, then the memory buzzed out of Dumbledore's sight.

Dumbledore sighed. They were trying to corrupt him.

Edited 12.08.07

Hurray! I got that off my chest. Sorry if it was a bit too short for your liking. Delilah is a slightly obscure character that I can't exactly describe in the story, so I'll be posting a few Interludes about the people that Harry would call family. More to come next week, I hope. Maybe later today or tomorrow, who knows.

Love 'n kisses,

I've changed my name, so read this! ----- emopopsicle