Okay people, here it is, the second chapter… three years in the making. Kinda shitty for three years, but here we are. I changed a lot of how I wanted this story to go because I felt the direction I was leaning toward was both unhealthy and unrealistic.

I had originally wanted Harry to, despite his lonely upbringing, still cherish his family and be okay with everything and everyone. I had wanted him to essentially not care about his mistreatment and be a-okay. That was three years ago, and after growing up a bit (not a lot, but enough to realize that wasn't okay) I realized that Harry's journey needed to be explained before we could get to Hogwarts or any major plot movers.

Having said that, I'm sorry if you don't like the direction I'm taking this story. Feel free to leave your opinions in the reviews, and I will try to take those I resonate with into consideration.

Thank you for reading!

Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to JK Rowling.

Years passed. Harry was simply… forgotten. Not hated or ignored, but put to the side in light of the danger presented to his brother. As James and Lily put more and more effort into protecting the boys from the public while also trying to make life as normal as they could for the boys, Harry slowly faded away- Evan's protection always took much more effort. Most of the world doesn't remember that Evan even has a brother.

James and Lily were hesitant to allow Evan and Harry to make public appearances, but Evan wanted to meet people and loved going to events. Harry's distaste for crowds and noisy areas led to him being left at home- at his request- to be watched by the house elves when the Boy-Who-Lived was asked to attend such ceremonies and banquets. Harry much preferred this, as he got time to read and play with Crookshanks with a completely silent bubble surrounding him.

As time passed by, however, James and Lily stopped even asking Harry if he wants to attend this ball or that dinner. Harry wasn't upset- he knew that they knew that he didn't want to go. However, they eventually forgot to check on him when they got back home. Soon he wasn't asked if he wanted to go out to eat, or to go to the grocery store. He wasn't called for meals and when he did get hungry and come to eat, there was no place set for him. By the time he was five, Harry discovered that he could not talk to his family for weeks and they wouldn't even notice. They wouldn't worry about him, they wouldn't look for him, and they wouldn't think of him. When he did finally talk to them or make his presence known at dinner, they would immediately feel shame and guilt course through their bodies, but it was never enough for them to remember him for more than a few hours after his departure. After a few dozen times of reminding them of his existence, Harry realized that he shouldn't have to remind his own parents of his existence. He stopped trying.

Harry was angry and hurt most times. How could his parents forget him? How could Evan forget him? They were his family, the people who were always supposed to be there for him! His hurt consumed him most days and he could hardly handle it.

Harry would watch Evan with envy as he was shown love and affection. His brother was amazing, and Harry could see it. Evan was a happy, energetic, kind boy. Harry couldn't hate him. Harry hated that. His envy was warranted, but the object of his envy couldn't be hated. Couldn't even be disliked.

Harry saw that his parents were only trying to protect his brother. He saw their anxieties take over their lives as their focus pinpointed onto the boy whose protection was most threatened. He saw their generosity, their love, and their intelligence. His rage was justified, but he couldn't force himself to hate them.

These revelations left his negative emotions with little to turn to. They were strong and pulsing, but he didn't hate, or even dislike, those hurting him. It would be normal, easier, in a way, if he did hate them, but Harry just couldn't force it. The few times he tried to force himself to hate his family left him feeling ill and tired. Hatred on top of his other emotions almost destroyed him. His emotions couldn't take that twist into darkness. This was mostly thanks to the Potter house elves, Mitsy, Popsy, and Milly.

By the time he realized his family forgot of his existence, he had spent many a day and night cuddled up with the elves, reading in the absence of his family. They quickly became his family, giving him the nurturing and guidance that a child needs. Their enthusiasm to care for the child left him feeling wanted and loved. Their love for Harry and their willingness to open up to him and allow him into their private lives gave him the intimacy normally felt in a tight knit family. Mitsy and Popsy, the elder house elves who became his surrogate Aunt and Uncle, changed Harry's life and put him on a better path than a neglected child could ever hope to take so young.

Mitsy and Popsy loved Harry as parents would their son. They loved the boy who curled into their sides and looked up with doe eyes. They loved the boy who demanded to help with their chores and duties. They loved the boy who was curious about them, as beings, and asked endless questions about them, their community, and their magic. They loved the boy who, despite many hardships in his life, was loving and generous and kind. They loved the wonderful boy named Harry who had been forgotten by his equally as kind and generous family. The only thing to dislike about the boy's family was the fact that they had forgotten this intelligent and brave boy.

Mitsy and Popsy, seeing the affect his family was having on him, encouraged Harry to talk to them about his pains and frustrations. They listened to Harry and acknowledged his anger and hurt. They let him know that his feelings are valid and that his family is in the wrong for forgetting Harry. They weren't hesitant to point out, however, that, while his feelings of anger, hurt, and sadness are vindicated, it is unhealthy for him to linger on them- that, in the end, he was only hurting himself by internalizing his grief. After explaining that forgiveness wasn't for the receiving party, but to give peace to the offering party, Harry was given the time to contemplate his emotions and to figure out if he was ready to take the first step to forgiveness.

Harry didn't hate his family. While Harry was angry at and infinitely hurt by his parents, he couldn't bring himself to call anyone else mother or father. While being forgotten by his twin held a special place of hurt in his heart and soul, Harry knew he would always protect and support Evan. Even his Uncles Moony and Padfoot, who had, in the whirlwind of events and protectiveness, forgotten Harry, would never be abandoned as he had been. It hurt Harry to feel such anger and hurt toward- and because of- those closest to him, those who used to be his to protect and love. No, while Harry couldn't say he particularly liked his family, he knew he couldn't deny that he would always love them. Familial love, to Harry, is unconditional and never fades away. And so, Harry decided to begin the process of forgiving his family.

The journey to forgiveness wasn't easy, and Harry had a lot of false victories. His emotions were warring in his body, both desperate for the release that peace would bring and clinging onto Harry in indignation. Many times throughout his journey, Harry decided to give up. He would look at the picturesque vision of love and serenity his family made and feel sick. He felt tainted. What drove his family from him so subtly? What about him disgusted them so much that they erased him from their minds? His own self doubt would enter the battle and was often strong enough to claim victory over the anger, hurt, and sadness. He didn't care to look for the peace that would come with the seemingly endlessly pending forgiveness.

Being forgotten, however, soon became monotonous. While Harry was still angry and hurt, he had become numb, almost desensitized to the everyday pain. Perhaps because it wasn't shocking anymore. He still cried though, and Milly, the daughter of Mitsy and Popsy, would still have to climb into bed with him some nights to cuddle and soothe him. He would think that he had forgiven them and then his birthday rolled around, and he spent the entire day crying in his room, torturous pain seizing his body and coursing through his veins. The same with Christmas. He felt like he would take one step forward then he would unconsciously take two steps back. How could he move past their actions and harmful behavior if it never ceased? How could he try to heal pain when it was numb? How could he heal the pain he found when it was continuously reapplied?

The first breakthrough in what Milly deemed Project Forgiveness came on the Saturday after Harry and Evan's seventh birthday, which Harry spent in his room with his elf family and a cupcake in his favorite flavor, strawberry with cream cheese frosting. He was in his room reading his mother's year two school books when he felt a powerful magical core enter the manor. The feeling of such a strong presence excited Harry's own large and developing core, and he felt tingling at the back of his neck. He flexed his fingers and watched with joy while his magic exploded from his fingertips in pure gold and emerald green fireworks.

Crookshanks started from his napping place at the foot of Harry's bed and darted to the door, scratching at the carpet below it. Knowing that kneazles are sensitive to magic, Harry ceased his firework show and got up to let Crookshanks out to find the source. Harry, while curious, decided to stay put in his room and continue studying magic. Sitting against his headboard, Harry reopened the year two transfiguration book and read on.

After about half an hour of silence, Harry could sense another presence approaching his room. Recognizing his mother's aura, Harry quickly shoved the book under his bed and turned to his door as he heard a knock.

"Er, come in," Harry called, his voice betraying his nerves.

Lily slowly opened the door, hesitantly taking a step into Harry's room. Her eyes looked around the room, taking in Harry's personal style. Her face takes on a smile as she sees the mountainous pile of books next to the fully stocked bookshelf. She moves on, moving forward to touch a few framed photographs, her smile fading from her face while tears fill here eyes.

Seeing his mother's distress, Harry scowls and takes a deep breath. He stands from his bed and clears his throat. Lily jumps and whips around to face Harry. Her eyes widen almost comically as they land on Harry's face. This confuses Harry until he realizes that him and his mother haven't seen each other since Harry the Christmas before Harry's sixth birthday. His face must have become a bit more defined, and he knows for a fact he is three and a quarter inches taller.

Lily takes in sharp gasp and Harry shuffles to the side to see what photographs threw her off. Seeing various pictures of Harry with Milly, Popsy, and Mitsy, on birthdays and Christmases, Harry feels his mouth tighten. Anger flares in his chest and he has to swallow a few times to stamp it down before he says or does something he will regret.

"Mother. How can I help you today?" Harry asks Lily, training on his eyes on her face, trying to keep his tone light and civil.

Lily winces at Harry's formalities and shakes her head to dispel her distracting feelings of despair and shame.

"Uh, Harry, honey, there is something your father and I need to discuss with you and Professor Albus Dumbledore, who is currently in our living room," Lily says, awkwardly fidgeting with her sleeves and staring intensely at Harry's face.

Harry's brows furrough an he takes a moment to answer.

"Albus Dumbledore… Hogwarts' Headmaster?" Harry asks, confusion infusing his voice as his head tilts slightly to the side.

"Yes, he is the headmaster. We've already finished our talk with Evan," she replied, reaching her hand out to Harry as if to invite him to hold her hand.

At this invitation of intimacy, Harry clams up and shoves his hands into his pockets. He ducks his head and walks past Lily toward his door.

"Can't keep such a man waiting, can we?" he says when he notices she hasn't moved with him yet.

"I suppose not," she intones after taking a few swallows to keep her emotions at bay.

The walk from the Harry's bedroom to the living room was long. After a minute or two, Lily couldn't seem to handle the awkward silence.

"So, Harry, honey, how have you been? It's been quite a while since we've caught up," she questions him, clenching her hands into fists in disgust for herself. Why couldn't she just grind out an apology? Why couldn't she address her treatment of her son out loud? Why couldn't she be a better mother?

Harry blinked at his mother's question. How honest should he be? Should he even answer at all? Should he ask his own questions? Demand the answers?

"I've been fine. How did you know where my room is?" he asked, internally cringing at how clipped his own question came out. He was genuinely curious, but felt the wave of hurt crash into him as he processed his own question. His parents didn't know where his room was. They'd never been there before, he had moved himself out of the nursery he used to share with Evan when he was five.

Lily winced and looked to the ground in shame.

"I, uh, used the point me spell," she says, her eyes getting a distant gleam as she continued. "I started out by following the direction Crookshanks came from. I remember how much you loved Crookshanks. Animals in general, really. Merlin, you two were inseparable when you were a baby. You used to claim him when you would read your books. You would lay all over him and just about strangle him with your pudgy little arms. So protective of him, too." Lily just stared off into space for a while, a smile lighting up her face as she thought of the happy memories she had of her older son.

Meanwhile, Harry couldn't help the tears that gathered in his eyes. His mother was speaking so fondly of him. He hadn't heard that- ever. Sure, it was of when he was a baby, but it proves to him that his mother does love him- or at least did at one point. He could feel the relief smothering much of his self doubt. There was something forgettable about him, but he wasn't unlovable.

Silence reigned for the rest of the walk to the impending meeting.

Nearing the living room, Harry felt himself slowing down.

What if James wasn't as… receptive… as Lily. What about Dumbledore? Why was he meeting with Dumbledore anyways? Was he in some sort of trouble? Did they know he'd been studying magic on his own for a year now? What did they talk to Evan about?

Lily entered the living room while Harry took a pause at the entryway to take a deep breath. Fake it til you make it. Forcing himself to relax his tensed shoulders, Harry schools his face into a mask of polite curiosity and straightens his posture. Walking into the living room, he sees Lily taking a seat next to Evan, James on Evan's other side. Dumbledore is seated across from the couch in a recliner, wearing spangled midnight robes and half moon glasses.

Dumbledore smiles with crinkled eyes at Harry and stands up to glide to Harry's place in the entryway, hand outstretched to grasp Harry's shoulder.

"Ah" he softly spoke, "you must be Harry. Oh, my boy, you did get your father's looks, didn't you? But with Lily's eyes."

Harry coughed awkwardly and nodded his head, giving a weak smile.

"Yes, I have, um, noticed," Harry replied, swallowing and lightly nodding, bringing a hand up to scratch his neck. "And you must be Headmaster Dumbledore."

"That I am, my boy," Albus smiled, patting his shoulder then hooking his hand around to guide Harry to his family. James and Evan had the same wide eyed face that Lily wore in Harry's room. James seemed to be trembling with shame while Evan's eyes were hungrily zooming all over Harry.

Not wanting to embarrass his parents or brother in front of the source of magical power he felt in his room, Harry nodded at them and softly intoned a greeting. He stiffly turned from their rushed and wet sounding greetings to sit on the chair next to the couch his family was using so as to listen to whatever Dumbledore was wishing to discuss with him.

"Now, Harry, I was just discussing your brother's training schedule and course load with your parents. We were thinking we could cover half a school year's workload during the summers with sprinkled weekend lessons during the school years until you both come to Hogwarts. Does this sound reasonable?" he asked Harry, leaning forward slightly from his chair.

"Lessons? Like… Magic lessons?" Harry asked, leaning forward himself, wondering if said offer would be extended to himself.

Surprised, Dumbledore crinkled his eyebrows and frowned toward Lily and James who both looked down and away. Though this troubled Dumbledore, he turned back to Harry to answer his question.

"Yes, my dear boy, magic lessons. I thought you would already know, as James and Lily have been discussing this with Evan for quite a few years now. As you already know, Evan is the Boy-Who-Lived, and as such, will have to defeat Voldemort once he rises back to his physical form. He cannot be the average Hogwarts graduate to do so, so your parents and I decided he needed training in advance of his Hogwarts education."

Harry held back his alarm and nodded along with Dumbledore. He was beginning to absorb the information thrown at him when Dumbledore continued on.

"We decided to train Evan the moment he became the Boy-Who-Lived. Your parents and I discussed the possibility of training you as well, and have debated back and forth for many years on the subject until it finally was laid to rest when you and your brother were about three years old. Your parents want you to have a normal childhood, one in which you can do as you like rather than train for your future," Dumbledore paused to frown a bit at this before shaking it off and finishing his speech. "We decided that instead of training in practicals, you could have the option of reading the theory of what Evan is learning, if you so wish."

Harry felt a bit light headed as he took a moment to process all of Dumbledore's statements. So, apparently, Voldemort is still alive. Cool, great to know. Being the Boy-Who-Lived made Evan the sole person, apparently, able to take down said evil man. His parents know all of this and decided when he and his brother were still babies to train Evan earlier than usual and to let Harry have the option of a normal, happy childhood.

Happy Harry thought bitterly. Sure has been happy. Shaking this off, Harry thought of Evan and the enormous load that seemed to be resting on his shoulders. Evan was in terrible danger. Danger unlike the silly woes of tabloids and greedy fans. Danger that is fatal and shakes Harry to his core. His parents have lived with this for years. This bone deep fear for his younger twin. This terrible destiny that weighs on his younger twin, the dangers presenting little likelihood of survival. No wonder his parents were so protective of Evan.

Thinking through Dumbledore's original inquiry of the training schedule, Harry compared the danger he felt gripping his bones to what he knew of Evan's character.

"Okay. Evan has a lot of pressure settled on his shoulders and I agree that an early start is good. It is, however, dangerous to assume we will make it to our Hogwarts graduation before Voldemort becomes prevalent once again, so up the training a bit. Evan, though loves a good laugh and is a very playful and energetic person by nature, will work hard at something so serious as this. He is definitely smart and talented enough to handle the amount of information as well," Harry paused for a moment to organize his thoughts.

"You can wait for Herbology, Astronomy, and a great deal of Potions for Hogwarts. Perhaps if your primary training is in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration, you could fit an entire school year's worth in one summer. You can go Monday through Thursdays so he has his weekends." Harry looks away from his blushing brother to Dumbledore.

"Once your position as Headmaster is, once again, active, Father or Uncle Sirius could pick up weekday nights with you coming in for Saturday sessions in specialized lessons you think to be important. Said lessons could consist of Occlumency, Healing, Warding- whatever you deem important. As aurors, Father or Uncle Sirius could teach defensive and offensive spells well enough." Harry looked to James to see his father's face an interesting mixture of pleased and thoughtful.

"Mother could teach some potions for healing that could be useful to have in a pinch. She's also brilliant at Charms while Father is a whiz in Transfiguration, so those subjects could be covered as well. Uncle Remus is a jack of all trades, so he could tutor regularly, or just when the others need a break. All of Evan's bases would be covered, and once we go to Hogwarts, his classwork should be easy enough to do advance work atop his review."

As Harry neared the end of his reasoning, he looked back to Dumbledore to assess how his ideas were taken. What he found was a pensive expression with proud eyes shining behind half-moon specs.

"That," Dumbledore said, "is quite the proposition, Harry. It sounds very rational, and you are, of course, correct about the assumption of Voldemort's return. With our luck, he could show up any time and Evan must be prepared for what he'll face. I must say I am very impressed with your logic and care with this situation," Dumbledore grinned at Harry, his eyes twinkling madly.

Dumbledore turned to James, Lily, and Evan, who were looking at Harry with pride and pleasure written across their faces, "Does this sound reasonable to you? Evan, that is quite the workload that Harry thinks you can handle. Is he correct?"

It took the Potters a moment to respond, as that is the most they had ever heard Harry speak at once. His intelligent diction and cadence were almost unsettling for a seven year old. Add on top that it was to help Evan, and that he had complimented all three members of the Potter family that Harry had every right to hate. In their momentary silence, Harry once again shocked them to their cores when he spoke up.

"Evan is, as I said, intelligent enough to handle this workload. He just has to be okay with working hard to gain the assurances he'll need against Voldemort," Harry said, glancing at Evan as he spoke. Hazel eyes met emerald eyes, and Harry felt a bit of his anger and hurt curl up and fade away. This was the first time Harry and Evan had made eye contact in a very long while.

"Ye-yeah," Evan stuttered out, still staring at Harry, wonder and affection in his eyes, "I can d-do that. Sounds fine."

Finally shaking out of their frozen state, both parents turn to Evan, seeking reassurance.

"Are you sure? It's going to be tiring and you'll want your free time back often," James asked, concern leaking into his voice.

"Yes. If Harry thinks I can do it, then I believe I can," Evan says, smiling affectionately at Harry, "Are you guys sure that Harry can't learn alongside me? That he could learn the practicals as well as the theory?" His questions turn him back toward his parents who both immediately start swelling up to deny this statement.

Before they could speak, however, Harry spoke up himself.

"I'm fine with just the theory, Evan, it's fine. I've actually been contemplating something for a while and would like to run it across you two," he says, turning to Lily and James.

"Oh? Yes, go ahead," Lily and James stumble over themselves to encourage Harry's further discussion with them.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked them both dead in the eye.

"I would like to enroll in muggle primary school," Harry states with a simplicity that undermines the radical statement, shocking the other four occupants of the room.

"Are you sure, Harry? What brought this on?" Lily asks, concern leaking into her tone.

"I'm not saying I wish to miss out on my magical studies. I would like to learn the theory of Evan's lessons. I would just like to attend muggle school at the same time," Harry explained, laying what he wants on the table for judgement.

"I don't know for sure what I would like to do when I'm older and if it will be in the magical world. I would like to keep my options open. I quite enjoy math and science from what I've read in the public library, and I would like to learn more about muggle culture as well. I could even attend a music class or join a club, make friends my age," Harry explained to James and Lily. The only reason he's even going through them is that he'll need their signatures and money to go to public school.

Lily and James made eye contact over Evan's head and had a silent conversation. After a few moments, they nodded in unison and turned to Harry.

"Alright, Harry. If you want to do this, then we'll support you," James said, smiling proudly at his son while Lily beamed.

"We'll have to check out the best schools, the manor is a good distance from any school district lines, I'm sure," Lily said, going into planning mode.

"Actually, there is a school in London, in Hampstead Village, to be specific, with fantastic ratings, a gargantuan amount of course offerings, an amazingly well stocked library, and a very diverse range of extracurricular activities," Harry says, stunning his parents because he already had a plan in mind.

"London? Harry, honey, that's very far away, and our jobs begin earlier than your school will, how would you get there?" Lily countered.

"I've already asked Mitsy and Popsy if one of them could apparate me to a nearby alley every school day. They think it's a good idea and are more than willing to take me to and from school," Harry reassured, chagrined that their concern for him starts now, when he just wants to enroll in school.

"Well, alright, then, Harry. You seem very determined to go to this specific school. We'll enroll you on Monday," Lily promised, sharing a wide eyed look with James.

Harry almost burst with energy at this proclamation and grinned at his parents for the first time in four years.

"Oh, thank you guys so much, you will not regret this! Oh, I have to go tell Aunt Mitsy and Milly," Harry gushed, running out of the room faster than the others could blink.

"Did he just say Aunt Mitsy?"

After Harry shared the news with Milly and Mitsy, who would tell Popsy, he sat down on his bed and contemplated how the first meeting in years with his family went.

They were all so… loving. And supportive. They were interested in Harry. They didn't hate him or think anything was wrong with him. Just this knowledge alleviated some of the hurt in Harry.

He knows he hasn't forgiven them yet, but he wasn't in quite so much pain anymore.

Hopefully Chapter 3 will come soon!