"Get in the car, boy!" That was the greeting that Harry Potter received as he walked out of King's Cross station. The Hogwarts Express had pulled in a half hour ago, but Harry had had to drag his luggage around to the side, away from where the rest of the passengers were being picked up, because the Dursley didn't want to be associated with 'those kind' of people. But that was fine with Harry - he didn't want his classmates to meet his family. Or vice versa. It would just lead to humiliation.

And this year, he REALLY didn't want the Dursleys talking to the Wizarding folks. Not with all the gossip swirling around about what happened at the end of the triwizard tournament, and Cedric's death.

Harry dragged his trunk over to Vernon's car and popped the trunk. He had to load it all himself, as Vernon, Petunia and Dudley all sat in the car and waited. And they had apparently gone shopping earlier, so he had to be careful not to crush the Macy's bags that were already there.

Harry finished loading and got into the back of the car, next to Dudley, who was hammering away at a handheld game, 'Hasn't he outgrown those yet?' Harry mused.

"About time. Did you drag your feet on purpose, or are you naturally this slow?" fumed Vernon. Harry didn't reply. Petunia and Dudley also had nothing to say, so the car was silent, except for small electronic 'dings!' and 'Zaps!' As Vernon drove home.

Usually, when Harry came home for the summer break, he felt like he was in prison, with his time at Hogwarts a pleasant memory that sustained him until he could return to freedom. But this year, he didn't want to think about the magical world. Just a few days ago, he was held hostage and almost murdered by a Wizarding terrorist, and sometime soon, he would be going on trial for defending his life against another terrorist, this one a fellow student who he thought had been his friend. All of the magical world was turning against him: Professor Moody, who had turned out not to actually be Professor Moody, had organized his kidnapping. All of his friends had abandoned him.

So Harry shut down and didn't think about anything on the long drive home. Vernon had made a wrong turn and had managed to get stuck in a traffic jam for what felt like years. He cursed and yelled at the other drivers. Dudley played his game. Petunia sat stiffly, hands folded on her lap. Her only contribution to the oppressive atmosphere in the car was to remind Vernon about his blood pressure whenever he got too red in the face.

When the death car finally pulled into 4 Privet Drive, Harry grabbed his trunk and dragged it up to his room. He collapsed onto the bed and lay there until Vernon's bellow rousted him, "Boy, get down here and get started on dinner. I know they spoil you rotten at that school of yours, but here in the real world, you have chores to do!"

Harry staggered back down stairs and started cooking. Back before, he used to spit into the Dursley's food, or stick his (dirty) hands into it, but now it seemed all pointless. It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. He just cooked up the food to their specifications and brought it to the table. As the family sat down, Harry took the tray of mashed potatoes and served himself. "You wait your turn boy!" Vernon yelled and grabbed mashed potatoes out of Harry's hands. Harry just looked at him. His face was completely expressionless. Vernon looked back for a moment, and then dropped his eyes in discomfort. "I don't know what manners THEY have.." began Petunia. Harry took the meatloaf and cut off a large slab for himself, acting as if Petunia wasn't even there. Petunia fell silent.

Vernon stood up "You show respect for your Aunt! We slave away to provide for you, and you should be grateful" He raised his hand as if to strike Harry. Harry turned to look at him. The complete lack of emotion in Harry's eyes unnerved Vernon. The boy wasn't reacting to his threats. Vernon was reminded of his trip to the Grunnings factory this past April. Harry was acting like those punks that hung out in the abandoned lot across the street from the factory building. The ones that he was certain would just as soon shiv him as talk to him. Vernon took a good look at Harry. The boy had grown, put on muscle. He was still small, but he wasn't a stick anymore.

Vernon lowered his hand.

Harry continued to eat, methodically chewing and swallowing.

Dudley looked on in amazement.

*Meta*Meta*

After the Dursleys had gone to bed ("early to bed and early to rise makes a body healthy, wealthy and wise' was their motto) Harry opened the door to his room and snuck quietly out. He glanced to see if light was coming from under Dudley's door - he was usually still awake, playing video games, but no, he apparently was emulating his parents now. Harry went down to the kitchen and got himself a soda. He had tried going to sleep, but whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was Cedric with a hole in his chest. He thought about turning on the telly, but the noise might wake up the Dursley's, and he didn't want to deal with them again. That was when his eye caught on something new - there was carpet on the stairs leading into the basement.

Harry flicked on the lights and crept down.

"Huh."

The basement now had a cheap carpet, and was full of exercise equipment. Mostly free weights, but also a stair machine and several punching bags.

For the first time in days, Harry smiled. He started in on the heavy bag. First he went through a round of jabs, then started adding in crosses. Pretty soon, he was throwing 4-5 attack combinations.

"Why the hell are you humping my bag?" Harry turned to see Dudley standing on the stairs in his pajamas, staring at him. Harry had just finished up a combination by grabbing the top of the bag and yanking it in so he could drive his knee into it.

"I couldn't sleep, I found this here, so I decided to work off some energy." Harry replied.

"Yeah, well you're using it all wrong. You need to maintain more space. Here" Dudley walked down the rest of the way and over to the bag, He took a prize fighter's stance and slammed 1, 1-2 into the bag. "I'm taking boxing, so I know what I'm talking about. Now go to sleep before you wake up mom and dad." Harry watched Dudley go back up the stairs. He hadn't noticed, but a lot of Dudley's fat was gone, and he moved more easily.

*Meta*Meta*

"Crucio!"

The woman hanging between the two Death Eaters began to scream. As her writhing became too much for them, the two men dropped her and quickly stepped away, so as not to be accidentally caught by the spell. After a minute, the spell let up.

"I want all the recruits to be able to cast Cruciatus on a muggle" The voice was sibilant, hissing. "If they can not do so, then obliviate the test from their memory - they will provide financial support for the true Death Eaters.."

Harry awoke in a cold sweat. 'Shit. Now I'm dreaming about them.' Harry grabbed a drink of water and went back to sleep as best he could.

*Meta*Meta*

The following morning, after serving breakfast to the Dursleys, Harry snuck down into the basement. He was supposed to be doing the weeding, but what would Petunia do if he ignored her? Kill him?

Dudley was lying on the bench, lifting weights. Harry glanced at him surreptitiously before going over to the reflex bag.

Jab - jab -cross-jab-jab.

The two boys continued to work out like that for an hour, each pretending not to see the other, all the while staying out of each other's way.

"Hey, Potter, you want to box a couple of rounds?" Dudley suddenly asked.

Harry turned and considered the offer. It would be like his fantasy of beating up on Dudley, but safer. And if an elbow went too far, well that could happen. "ok"

*Meta*Meta*

"What are you, a girl?" Dudley snarled as he got back up. "Stop kicking!"

"Oh, yeah, I should just stand still and let you pound my face in, Dudders?" Harry jeered. They were out in the back yard, and he was feeling better than he had in days.

"No, but there is a right way to fight and a wrong way."

"And you have always fought the wrong way!" Harry kicked out at Dudley's midsection, but this time, the bigger boy was ready for the sneak attack, and he stepped to the side and threw a punch right into Harry's midsection, catching him under the ribs as Harry was recovering from his kick.

"Uff" Harry collapsed, stunned. Dudley stood waiting while Harry tried to suck in enough air. "You ok, Potter? You want me to call mom?" Petunia was out shopping, which is why the boys felt free to take their spar out into her prized backyard.

"I'll be fine" Harry staggered up. "I can take you."

"Not if you fight fair. I'm bigger and stronger."

"I do fight fair!" yelled Harry, "when the other guy wants to kill you or beat the crap out of you, then anything you do to that bastard is fair!"

Dudley paused at the angry diatribe, nonplussed. "Yeah, whatever. I'm going to call it a day." As he pulled his gloves off, he added, "You should get better gloves. Those aren't regulation."

Harry sighed and shook his head, 'That thick head is such a moron.' He pulled off his gloves - they only covered up to the knuckles, leaving his fingers free so that he could grab, 'he still thinks this is a game.'

*Meta*Meta*

Harry took out Voldemort's yew wand. His wand now.

'I hope there isn't some curse on this, making who ever uses it go evil.' Harry remembered the first spell he had cast with it was to kill Cedric. He put the wand away carefully. 'Maybe I should get a new wand.'

These same thoughts had gone through Harry's head a billion times already. He had even considered just snapping the wand. But then, he wouldn't be a real wizard, and that scared him more than any dark curse.

*Meta*Meta*

The summer fell into a routine. In the mornings, Harry made breakfast. He then did some of the chores Petunia assigned - enough so that it looked like he wasn't slacking. Then he spent the afternoon working out. Twice more he tried sparring with Dudley, but both ended with Harry screaming at Dudley, and Dudley looking confused.

It was the start of the second week of July when he got the letters. First came a letter from the barrister that Dumbledore had hired - a Mr. Blittering - informing his that the trial would be on August 8. Harry had done his best to forget everything that had happened during the school year, and he had been successful. But now, his stomach roiled and he couldn't sit still. He grabbed a pair of garden shears and went outside to trim the bushes. He worked for the whole morning. By the time that he was done, almost all the green parts had been snipped off, leaving a winter skeleton. Which suited his mood just fine.

When Harry finally made his way back inside, he found another letter. This one was from Luna. Harry stared at it blankly for a moment before tossing it into his trunk with all of his other Hogwarts things. He wasn't ready to deal with the Wizarding world just yet.

*Meta*Meta*

"What is WRONG with you, Boy? Can't you do a simple task without screwing it up?" yelled Vernon. "Or are you trying to get out of doing your chores by doing everything wrong? Because let me tell you, people will notice, and nobody will want a cock-up like you. You will NEVER get even the lowliest job with that attitude!" The vitriol was prompted by Harry's bush trimming.

Petunia added "I don't want you touching anything in the yard again! it is obvious that you can't be trusted to act like a mature responsible young man, unlike Dudley."

"Then maybe you should have HIM do the yard work" snapped Harry.

"How dare you foist your responsibilities on to others!" roared Vernon, "Dudley is training, so obviously can't waste his time on simple things like gardening!"

"Yeah, whatever!" Harry grabbed his jacket and stalked out of the house. He went down to the little park down the street. He tossed the jacket on the ground and began to work his way through all the katas he knew. He put all the anger he had into them. 'That sucked!' Harry stopped and caught his breath, 'I rushed all of them.'

The second time he moved fast, but sharp, pausing slightly between moves so that they wouldn't all blur together. And then he did them again. He noticed that some people stopped to watch him, but they didn't say anything, so he ignored them. It was when dusk was falling that Harry stopped and sat down on his jacket, 'I forgot!' He jumped back up and surreptitiously went over to the trash-bag where he had hidden all of his favorite things last summer. He opened it, only to discover that moisture had made its way in, and most everything had gotten destroyed by mold.

"Damn." He threw it all on the ground. And kicked it for good measure, 'Well, I didn't really need that stuff anyway'. He stalked off home.

*Meta*Meta*

"Hey, Potter?" Harry looked up at the unusually tentative query from Dudley. He had just run through the first half of his katas.

"Yeah?"

"Can you show me how to do that?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow, then a small smile appeared, 'this will be amusing', "Sure why not."

Harry started coaching Dudley through the first few moves. "Now, stand lower"

"Why? You can't fight that way."

"It's exercise. It makes your legs stronger."

"Well, this is as low as I go."

"Fine, then. Now step. NO! Bring your feet together, THEN out! Put your hips into it." Harry watched as Dudley tried, but he lacked the flexibility.

Dudley stood up, "This is stupid. You do it your way, and I'll do it mine, and I will still cream you anytime in a fair fight." He walked off sulkily.

Harry bounced up to his room, in a cheerful mood. His view of Dudley as an incompetent loser had been validated. As he came in, he was surprised to see an owl sitting on his dresser.

"Come here girl" he took off the letter from her leg and read:

"Harry -

Hey, how are you doing? I haven't seen you since the end of term - want to drop by and hang out? (just no mary-huana plants this time).

- Neville"

Harry smiled 'This day keeps getting better and better.' He grabbed his wand and some knuts and stormed down the stairs, "Tell Petunia that I'll be out till late."

"What about dinner?" Asked Dudley fearfully.

"Tell them to get take out!"

"Dad will be pissed."

Harry shrugged to say 'yeah, whatever', and let the screen door slam behind him.

*Meta*Meta*

Harry lazed around in the summer sun, as he and Neville listed to the Wizarding Wireless, "And the Cannons score! They are now in the lead 104-102!'

"Why is it, that no matter how well the Chudley Cannons do early in the season, in the second half they choke and die?" Neville asked.

"Don' know." Harry shrugged, "Maybe there's a curse."

"Nah - they have curse breakers on retainer. All the teams do"

"Maybe the curse is too powerful. Maybe they stole some ancient egyptian artifact."

"Or maybe You-Know-Who doesn't like orange." As Neville said it, his face froze and he looked fearfully at Harry.

Harry shrugged, and there was a long silence, only broken by the announcer on the Wizarding Wireless. "Thanks for not treating me like I'm a crazy."

Neville ducked down and pulled at the grass, "I, uh, I'm sorry if I acted like an idiot. I listed to too many of the morons in school. But Gran talked some sense into me."

"What did she say?" Harry asked. The eldest Longbottom had always scared him with her severe clothes and disapproving stare.

"She said that I knew you pretty well. And she asked me if you were the sort to make something like this up. After that, it was pretty obvious."

Harry nodded. Both boys sat listening to the quidditch match for a while.

"You know, if You-Know-Who is back, then we have to get more serious about DADA."

"Yeah, IF we have a decent teacher who isn't a Death-Eater" Harry scowled.

"After last year, Dumbledore is going to be a lot more careful with who he hires." Neville said hopefully.

"If Dumbledore doesn't get the can himself."

"I hope not. You don't get the Prophet, but Gran says that they have been running articles non stop about how You-Know Who isn't actually back. Without Dumbledore, we'll probably get another loser like Quirrell or Lockheart."

"Wait - you said the prophet is running articles claiming that I was lying?"

"Uhm, yeah" Neville couldn't meet Harry's eyes.

"Great. Just great!" Harry slumped backwards onto the grass. "This is going to be another WONDERFULL year at Hogwarts."

"Neville! Harry! Dinner."

"Oh, right - I forgot to ask - are you staying for dinner?"

Harry was about to say no, when it occurred to him that the number of friends he had this year might be very limited. Like, to one. And he was talking to him, "Yeah, I guess."

"Great" Neville let out a sigh of relief, "Gran hates it when she cooks food and there is nobody to eat it."

"Is her cooking good?"

"Uhm… You get used to it."

*Meta*Meta*

Harry ate happily. As Augusta Longbottom turned to get a pot of tea from the sideboard, Harry leaned over and whispered to Neville "Hogwarts has spoiled you - this is good meatloaf!"

"It's ALWAYS meatloaf," replied Neville.

"Manners!" The eldest Longbottom replied sternly "No whispering at the table."

"Yes, Gran."

Harry just rolled his eyes.

Augusta pretended not to notice - Harry seemed like a nice boy, and Neville needed more friends. 'though it is unfortunate how the younger generation has no discipline.'

'I might as well enjoy this. There's going to be hell to pay when I get back to Privet drive' Harry took a break to wash his food down, "This meatloaf is really good, Ma'am."

Augusta beamed. "Neville has been telling me about last year, and how you were learning muggle self defense. It's too bad that Neville didn't have the time to take the class."

"I don't think Professor Loew is going to be there this year - he's with Beauxbaton." Harry agreed mournfully.

"Could YOU teach Neville?"

"Uhm… Maybe?" Harry replied pensively, "I'm not very good."

"Yeah, but between you and Ron, you could teach me at least the basics." Neville added enthusiastically. "With all that's going on, I think I really should learn it."

"Ok. Though personally, I wouldn't trust Ron to teach much of anything."

"Ron Weasley?" Augusta's mouth pruned up, "I have to agree. A very ill mannered boy."

"No, I don't mean that he's bad at martial arts - he's worked at it really hard, and is actually pretty good. It's just that he sucks when it comes to explaining anything."

"And you think you can do better, young man?"

"Ah.. I'll try" Harry smiled nervously as Neville got up to bring another pitcher of water to the table. A little sweat trickled down his back. He was uncomfortable with being the center of attention "I'm curious - how come you don't have have House elves? You have Reedy." 'Time to change the subject'.

"Reedy is a field elf. He is part of the land." Augusta took a morsel of meatloaf and chewed methodically before swallowing, She then continued her explanation in the same slow, methodical manner as she ate her food. One tiny morsel at a time. "When the Longbottoms settled these lands, they tended the land with such diligence - planting local food, as well as exotic plants from South America that had been brought back by intrepid Wizarding explorers (They even planted tomatoes, which at the time was quite an innovation, I must tell you) - that the local nature spirits - Wood elves - did not flee in fear. Instead, they stayed, and changed with the land, becoming Field elves. And others Field elves came to be, over the course of many years. First came Hawthorn, then Reedy" Augusta cut another piece of meatloaf and began to chew.

"But.." began Harry hoping to steer the conversation to something less dull.

"Don't interrupt, young man - it is the epitome of bad manners. A House Elf is a domestic spirit generated when a home has been inhabited by wizards for generations." Augusta took a sip of water, and chewed *that* before continuing "Unfortunately, while Longbottom house is an old home" Augusta cut off another morsel with surgical precision.

'Or an old age home' Harry thought in frustration. 'I know all this.' But he didn't dare interrupt the creeping horror, for fear of being given the glare of doom, 'The plants in the greenhouse are faster than she is' Harry forced himself to smile, even as he felt his brain start to shut down.

"While Longbottom house is an old home, I am the only Longbottom, save Neville, who has lived here in almost a century. Frank was my only child, you see, and he almost never came home after he got his Hogwarts letter".

'I wonder why.' Harry did his best to look attentive. Or at least awake.

"I had to let poor Quince and Quattella go last year before they died of abandonment. House Elves need a a living home."

'And this is the house of the dead.' Harry wiped the last of his meatloaf off his mouth. and carefully put his napkin on his plate. "That was fascinating, Mrs. Longbottom, Thank you. But I really should be getting home" Harry quickly said his goodbyes and fled before the resident zombie ate the rest of his brain.

*Meta*Meta*

"No, please I didn't have anything to do with it!" the the scrawny, balding man cried out as he kneeled on a hard cement floor. The only light came from a pair of torches off to the side.

"Oh, I know you didn't" soothed the hissing voice, "You have no reason to fear. I just want you to bring me a key to a certain room in the Ministry."

"I.. I don't have access to the keys.." whimpered the man.

"Well. You will have to fix that, won't you." The voice was still calm and friendly as it cast a bone breaker, shattering every bone in the whimpering man's arm. "Lucius, set that, will you?" Voldermoert walked off as his victim screamed in pain. "And don't bother making sure that the bones all line up right."

Harry woke up, staring at the ceiling. He rolled over and grabbed his watch from the night stand - it was the middle of the night again. 'Why am I seeing that? What does it mean?' Harry wished there was an adult, some adult that he trusted enough to ask about his nightmare.

With a sigh, he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

*Meta*Meta*

It was almost a week before Harry got a reply back to the letter that he had sent to Professor Loew. Harry almost tore it off of the owl's leg.

"I am very glad to hear that you wish to continue studying the Martial arts, but unfortunately, there is no way that I can commit to teaching at Hogwarts this year. The best I can do is provide a couple of seminars, one in August, and one over winter break. - Adam Loew"

"Well, that's something" Harry smiled. This was the first piece of good news he had gotten this summer. Harry went downstairs and made his way down to the basement, where the clanking of the weights was punctuated by Dudley's explosive grunts as he worked out. Yet again. 'Should I invite Dudley to train with Professor Loew?' Harry considered the idea for some time, before turning on his heel and walking away. 'I'll send an invitation to Neville and Ron.'

And after that, he'd go work out. Punching the bags helped him not think, and not thinking was good.

*Meta*Meta*

That evening, as Harry was finishing up cooking dinner, the telephone rang.

"Oi!, Potter, phone for you!" Dudley called from the living room. He had to yell over the sports program that Vernon was watching. "It's some girl - says her name is Luna Lovegood."

Harry froze. The unimaginable had happened. His wizarding life was being exposed to the Dursley's ridicule. 'How on earth did Luna get my phone number? How on earth did she get a PHONE?' Harry started to hyperventilate, the skillet in his hand forgotten. 'The Dursley's are interacting with my friends! And this isn't somebody staid, like Terry. It's LUNA. The reaction is going to be thermonuclear!'

Dudley continued to stand by the phone, holding the receiver.

"BOY!" yelled Vernon, "Are you going to take the phone?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I'll talk to her later."

"What should I tell her?"

"That I will call her later. Then hang up." Harry mimed putting the receiver down.

Dudley shrugged and repeated what Harry had said. "Was that your girlfriend?" He asked as he hung up the phone. It wasn't clear if he was teasing or impressed. Maybe a little of both.

"No." Harry replied airily, "She's this weird girl from school. Not certain why she called."

Dudley nodded.

'Thank god - I dodged that bullet.'

After dinner, Harry quickly excused himself and ran up to his room to write a note to Luna, to make up for blowing her off earlier, 'But what do I write?' Harry tried several times, but nothing came out. He would write a sentence, and then nothing. It was like there was a dam preventing anything from flowing out. He tried squeezing a few words past the blockage, but they sounded feeble even to him.. Finally, Harry gave up. He wrote:

"Hey, Luna.

How is your summer? I am not doing much. Just working out and chores and stuff.

I got together with Neville, but I haven't seen anybody else from school.

-Harry"

*Meta*Meta*

"Let go over wand defense" rumbled Adam Loew, "Face off with each other" He was addressing Harry and Neville, "This is mostly for Harry's benefit, as this material is above your current skill level, Neville. but after we are done with this exercise, Harry will drill you in the basics."

Harry and Neville lined up up about three feet apart and Neville pointed a stick at Harry, from almost point blank range. "This isn't realistic - most spells are cast from a distance."

"If they cast from a distance, you have time to apparate or cast protego." replied Adam in his calm methodical way, "but when they are this close, not only do you have less time, but having a wand jammed into your face is likely to make you panic, so we will practice this. These techniques can also be used with muggle handguns, with just a tiny change in how you grab your opponent's weapon."

For the next half hour, Harry learned how to drop his weight and turn so as to get out of the line of fire and then take control of the wand. Afterwards, Harry had Neville practice punching and blocking. It was nerve wracking - Harry kept glancing off to the side, where Professor Loew stood like a boulder, watching. "Stop. Harry, you need to call out corrections every few moves. You can't just keep calling out 'step'".

Harry nodded and swallowed, "I'll try."

Harry and Neville trained like that, six hours a day, for the rest of the week. By the time Friday rolled around, Harry moaned, "I don't think I can walk anymore."

"You and me both." Neville sighed, "But it's really good exercise."

"And the lunches that Professor Loew brings are definitely worth it" The reason they only worked out for 6 hours was because they took a two hour break in the middle for lunch. Though Harry had learned after the first day not to pig out, or the afternoon session would hurt a lot more. Instead, the three of them sat and relaxed, listening to Professor Loew tell amusing anecdotes about previous students that he had had.

"Too bad Ron couldn't make it"

Neville shrugged and looked uncomfortable, "don't take this the wrong way, but he might be avoiding you. The Daily Prophet smear articles are getting pretty intense - they are now claiming that you murdered Cedric, and that you are dangerously unstable."

Harry was silent for a moment, the guilt he felt over Cedric's death flaring up again before he forced it back down 'I didn't do anything wrong. He attacked me, I defended myself'. "Oh, This isn't going to be good. I'm going to be more of a pariah than Luna."

"Well, in that case, it's a good thing that you are already dating her." Neville took a fighting stance, "let's go over those kumites again.

As the day drew to a close, Adam closed out the seminar, "Harry, you are making very good progress. Keep up the good work. And Neville, I am happy to see you taking an interest in Martial Arts. I know I have not had much time to teach you, but Harry can continue your instruction in the basics, and I can meet with both of you over winter break to see what you need to work on next. That means you, Harry, need to really concentrate on teaching, and not just training."

"Yes, sensei."

"Keep in mind what I told you - point out applications for the moves. And don't over correct - if Neville is just learning a kata or something, don't get bogged down in the minutia."

"Yes, sensei"

"Good luck with everything. I'll see you both in the winter, And you Harry, I will see in a couple of weeks. And don't worry - Fleur has already made out a deposition that Cedric held her under the Cruciatus. And with Krum's testimony, it's clearly self defense."

*Meta*Meta*

The summer continued monotonously, after the short break of the Martial Arts seminar. That and the fact that nobody from his wizarding friends sent him any owls made him feel isolated. He tried to send them an owl, but he couldn't figure out what to write. When the day of the trial rolled around, Harry was actually looking forwards to it, to finally get it over with. When Adam Loew showed up, Harry met him at the door and tried to rush him out.

"Before we go, your guardians need to sign some paperwork."

"What's this about?" Vernon asked more politely than his usual. The man in front of him was dressed in a rather good black suit, even if he had skipped the tie. He obviously wasn't one of THOSE people. Plus he was… largish. Not that Vernon was intimidated, because being intimidated would be childish. When the man spoke, he was very polite, but somehow, his voice reminded him of rocks being crushed into gravel. Not intimidated at all.

"Harry, did you tell your guardians about Cedric?"

"Uhm, no. Can we go?"

"I am sorry, but no."

"What's this? Who is Cedric?"

"Last spring, Harry was attacked by an older boy. Harry had to defend himself, and believing his life in danger, he used considerable force. The other boy, Cedric, ended up dead."

Vernon (and Petunia, who had come up behind him) stared aghast at Harry. "I knew it. I knew something like this would happen," he muttered.

"The fault does not lie with Harry." began Adam, but Vernon over-rode him, "I want you out, boy! I don't want you darkening this doorstep with your hoodlum ways!"

Harry stood, uncertain what to do. Vernon looked like he very much wished to push Harry out the door and slam it behind him, but there was the problem of the very large man standing behind Harry. "So.. what do you want?" he ended.

"There is going to be an inquiry this afternoon into the events. It will be fairly straightforward, for the evidence is clear that Harry was not at fault, but since Harry is a minor, you, as his guardian, need to sign several forms.."

"I'm not signing anything!" Vernon replied mulishly.

"They are just to verify Harry's identity, and that he is to be present as an individual, rather than as a member of a Noble family or ward of the state. It's all very routine" Adam continued, apparently unperturbed by Vernon glaring at him.

Vernon refused to budge. Finally, Petunia reached past him, "These are just legal papers to identify that Harry is Harry? They don't require us to do anything or take any responsibility for him, do they?"

"No, they do not."

"Fine. I'll fill them out." As Petunia got to work on the papers, Vernon continued to scowl. Once she was done, she handed them silently to Adam.

"Come along, Harry."

As the two people walked down the steps of #4 Privet drive, Vernon finally spoke up, "You're not welcome here anymore, boy. After the trial, take your things and go." He slammed the door.

"Hmm. I do not mean to insult your family, but your uncle does not strike me as the best of people."

"You can say that again." Harry ran a hand through his hair as his stomach roiled in anxiety, "What am I going to do?"

"Do you have any friends you could stay with for a few days? I will contact Albus and have him arrange for a long term solution."

"Why can't I live with you?" Harry asked desperately.

"I live in France, Harry, and while I do feel for you and am willing to go out of my way to help, I think we can find help closer at hand. Especially since as a British national without a passport, you technically can't even go to France. So take a few minutes to consider who you can stay with, and I will help get in touch with them." Adam lead the way to a tiny Volkswagen that was suspiciously larger on the inside.

Harry didn't pay any attention to the drive 'I could ask Neville - he'd take me in, and he has a huge house. but his grandmother is an eldrich horror. I can't stay with Draco - he said I was never to visit his home. plus, he was an asshole last year. Maybe Goyle?' Harry kept going round in circles. The reality was, he didn't have many close friends, and of those, Neville was the only one whose home he had ever visited.

*Meta*Meta*

"This boy is obviously delusional, and in need of supervision." The barrister was winding up his presentation. Harry was in a courtroom that was presided over by a panel of three judges. In addition to them, there were the two barristers, several other witnesses (mostly Hogwarts faculty and students) and a small gaggle of spectators packed into the tiny visitors balcony like sardines.

"Are you arguing that he should be admitted to St. Mungo's?" asked the judge in the middle. Harry couldn't tell them apart - they were all wrinkled old men wearing huge, ornate robes and powdered wigs that spilled half way down their chests.

"Not at all, your honor, but I believe it would be in his best interests if Harry was declared a ward of the state and remanded to the care of a family that can better deal with a magical child with potential mental health issues. A muggle family just has no way to understand a magical child. They can not provide the support that Harry needs, and they will not be able to identify the danger signs if he has another, ah, 'episode'".

Adam placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, reminding him that he was to sit quietly until called on. Somehow, what was supposed to be a simple deposition had become a trial, with Harry's mental state as the defendant. It seemed likely that he would be found to be dangerously delusional and sent to an insane asylum or something.

The prosecuting barrister was not disputing that Harry had acted in self defense when he Reducto'd Cedric, but he somehow had segued onto the allegation that Harry had hallucinated the whole scene in the graveyard. And Robert Blittering, defending barrister, just nodded along in agreement. Harry looked around desperately to see if any white knight would ride out to his rescue. Dumbledore was in the witness bench, and he looked annoyed, but he wasn't doing anything.

"Very well, we will take that into consideration. We will hear the disposition of this child next. Court adjourned." the judge on the right pronounced. Nobody moved. "We will will now hear the the case for declaring the minor child Harry Potter a ward of the state and remanding him to the care of a suitable Magical family."

Harry turned to Adam in a complete panic, "How can they do that? Weren't they in the middle of the Cedric case?"

Adam scowled, "Jumping straight into the case without letting anybody gather a case… it seems like a put up job. Somebody bought the judges. This is very, very bad on many levels."

Before the prosecuting barrister could start his spiel, Dumbledore stood up, "Your honor, I think that leaving Harry with his family would be the healthiest thing for him, especially since there is no evidence that what he described was NOT the absolute truth." Dumbledore had drawn himself up to his full height, and spoke with such authority that he seemed to filled the courtroom.

"Sir Dumbledore, this court has not recognized you. Please refrain from making comments." groused the judge in the middle. He was barely visible under his wig and robe - he appeared like a scowling toad in comparison to Dumbledore.

"Given that this court has just brought the case and is now prosecuting it without the required 2 week interim waiting period, this court has no legal standing." Dumbledore pronounced, and there were murmurs of assent.

"Very well. This court will recess for two weeks" grumbled the toad.

As people milled about, Dumbledore made his way over to Harry and Adam, "Harry, my boy. there is nothing to worry about. I will see to it that you stay with the Dursleys."

"Um, Professor, as to that…" as Harry recounted what had happened that morning, Dumbledore's brow wrinkled in consternation. He swished his wand his hand and Harry felt a deadening of the ambient sound fall on him.

"That will make the whole situation much more complicated. Please don't tell anybody else about it - if this information were to become public knowledge too soon, then you would almost certainly be made a ward of the state."

"Would they send me to an insane asylum?" Harry held tight to the edge of his sweater.

"No, worse - you would be placed with one of the Dark pureblood families, and would most likely meet an unfortunate accident."

"What? Why?" Harry was friends with some kids whose families were referred to as 'dark'. Hell, Draco was an ass, but he wouldn't really try to hurt him!

"I can not explain right now, but Voldemort and his followers see you as a potential threat."

"Just because I took his wand? I can give it back to him! I don't want anything to do with it!" 'I can buy another wand.'

"Harry, as I explained, that wand is rightfully yours by right of conquest under wizarding law. No," Dumbledore paused to gather his thoughts, "what you did was embarrass Voldemort in front of his followers, just when he needed to rebuild his reputation. He will never forgive you for that."

"Shit."

"Language, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore reached up and stroked his beard meditatively, "I know a good family that you can stay with. They have children your age - as a matter of fact, you may know them from school: the Weasleys. If we can establish you there, then that will give us some leverage to keep you out of the hands of the Death Eaters."

Harry nodded dumbly, 'Ron's not so bad. I could deal with staying with him. It's better than being dead, at least.' "Ok, Professor. that would be great!"

*Meta*Meta*

That evening found Harry with his trunk by his side, spinning and dropping down to a rural field. 'I hate portkeys.'

"Ah here we are!" Dumbledore brushed some dust off his robe. "And that is the Burrow," he pointed to ramshackle building. "Come, let us introduce you to Molly and Arthur."

Harry anxiously followed Dumbledore. He had never been good at meeting new people. As soon as Albus knocked on the door, there was a tumult from inside - a teen voice yelling "Mom - visitors!", "Arthur can you get that?" followed by the sound of something sizzling and popping.

The door opened to reveal a middle aged Weasley and the aroma of cooking. It was obvious that the man in the door was a Weasley, as he had the characteristic orange hair. "Ah, Albus, come in, come in. And you must be Harry. Welcome!" He stepped aside to let the non-Weasley's past the threshold.

Inside there was controlled chaos as several red-headed teens set the table, darting around a heavy set woman working two skillets and a pot on a large stove. "You're just in time for dinner, dear. Come, sit down. Albus, you too!" Molly caroled without turning around - she was busy simmering something and was shaking the pan with one hand as she adjusted the flame under the pot with the other.

"Thank you, Molly, but I have already eaten, but I am sure that Harry will be happy to oblige you."

"Oh, I know all about teenage appetites! Fred - take Harry's trunk up to his room."

Harry noticed the Terrible Twins - Fred and George. 'Oh, maybe this won't be so good.' He had forgotten that they were also Weasleys. Molly finally stabilized dinner and turned to face her guests.

"Now I want to make some house rules clear - Dumbledore has spoken well of you, but I want to make sure that you understand that there is to be no fighting in our house - no rough housing. And I want your wand to be put away in your trunk until the start of the school year - we take under age wand use very seriously here, unlike SOME families." she gave Harry a stern glare.

"Yes, ma'am" Harry nodded, subdued, 'what does she expect me to go on a rampage or something? Like a spoiled 2 year old?'

"Great" Molly beamed, "In that case, why don't you take a seat next to Ron. Albus?"

"I do have to get going Molly - but thank you for the invitation, and thank you for your help with Harry's situation." Albus nodded and turned to go.

"Oh, I'm not going to let a poor boy get placed with some unsavory family, especially if he has had a troubled past!"

As Harry sat down, Ron leaned over and whispered "Don't pay any attention to Mum - she takes what she reads in the Daily Prophet way too seriously."

"Do you believe that You-Know-Who is back?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, "Honestly, I wasn't certain at first, but all the nonsense that the Prophet has been printing about you the last couple of weeks makes me trust them a whole lot less. I don't know what happened to you at the end of the Third Task, but it sure as hell wasn't what the Prophet is claiming!"

"Language, Ronald!" Molly cried from across the room.

Ron rolled his eyes and mouthed, "she has ears like a bat."

Dinner at the Weasley was far more lively than at the Longbottoms. The twins talked non-stop, trading off talking while the other twin chewed, and the other Weasleys weren't shy either, though Molly periodically (and futilely) enjoined them to "take turns talking."

"Oy, Potter, so are you going to be inviting your girlfriend over?" asked Fred.

Harry spluttered, "Luna and I aren't dating!"

"Well, keep faking it - you need to set a good example for Ronnie-kins" added the second.

"Fred!" warned Molly

The other twin leaned over conspiratorially, "You see he hasn't worked up the gumption to ask a girl yet, so he needs all the role models he can get".

"Fred!"

"What?" asked the twin that had been eating quietly.

"I'm George" added the troublemaker.

"Fred, You have kitchen duty tonight!"

"Aww!" whined the one that had claimed to be George.

"So what is this about you dating Luna?" asked Molly.

"Nothing!" Harry denied vehemently, "Luna is just a friend, and somebody started a rumor. That's all!"

Molly nodded, "Rumors are horrible things. They can ruin, completely ruin a persons reputation. I make a point never to spread gossip around. Not after what happened to poor Selena. She was just about to get married to a very promising young man when.." Ron rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards the door.

"Excuse me, mam, but may I be excused?" Harry quickly interrupted.

"Why certainly. Go, shoo, shoo. Have fun."

Harry and Ron fled.

*Meta*Meta*

That evening, As Harry tossed some clothes into the dresser, Ron knocked on the (open door) and leaned in, "So, you want to spar?"

"I thought your mother said no rough housing"

"We'll do it outside, in back"

"I don't want to get in trouble on my first day."

Ron sighed, "How about katas, then? I can't remember half of them, maybe between the two of us, we can figure them out. I don't know what we'll do without a Professor Loew."

Harry paused and then nodded in agreement, slamming the bureau shut.

They went out into the back. The twins were zooming about on brooms, throwing a quaffle around. "Hey, you want to join us for a pickup game? Two on two?"

Ron shook his head no as Harry called, "no, thanks."

The two boys started off with their first kata. As they went through the forms, the twins slowed and stopped, hovering their brooms as they watched. Half way through, Ron stumbled and had to stop as he tried to remember the moves

Harry continued, moving with precision. Two quick moves, then a slight pause before he exploded into the next two.

"Wow." As Harry finished and stepped into a ready posture "That was kind of cool."

"You got to show me how to do that - I blanked out halfway through!" Ron nodded.

"You were pretty blank at the beginning, too, Ronnie-kins" snorted a twin. "We'll stick with quidditch" The other added. The twins went back to tossing the quaffle. "Hey, I had a thought - can you do karate on a broom?"

*Meta*Meta*

The two weeks until the second trial passed quietly. Harry was too anxious to do anything or to plan anything. He kept himself from thinking by training with Ron. The twins coaxed him up onto a broom a couple of times as well. Which wasn't as bad as he he feared it would be - Harry was a decent flyer, if too cautious, and the twins weren't as mean as he thought they would be. They even gave him some pointers.

All too soon, he found himself back in the same courtroom, facing the Three Evil Toads, with only Blittering as his champion. 'I'm doomed'. Blittering was a short, dapperly dressed man with a tendency to bob his head when he spoke. To Harry, it made him look like a pigeon. A particularly nervous pigeon.

Except this time, it was the Two Evil Toads, and a stern middle aged woman. Also, the courtroom was less full. The spectator gallery had a number of well dressed people, including Lucius Malfoy (who was seated near a frumpy pink creature), but the witness area was empty.

"Your honors, upon the previous advice of the court, Mr Potter has already been placed with a respected wizarding family, so there is no need for these deliberations." Blittering bobbed.

"Objection," The prosecutor stood up, "The Weasleys are not on the approved list."

The lead toad..erg judge opened his mouth to say something when the woman judge caught his eye, a glower of disapproval on her face. The judge glanced at the prosecutor, down at something on his desk, then back at the woman, "erm, that list will be taken into consideration"

"The court agreed that the boy would be put in the care of an approved family."

"Er, yes, but that list is of recommended families, NOT an _exclusive_ list of approved families." The lead judge was looking decidedly nervous, disagreeing with the prosecutor. He glanced up at Dumbledore, who was seated in the spectators gallery before leaning over to discuss something with the other two judges.

"Who is the woman judge?" Harry whispered to Blittering.

"That is Madam Bones - she's high up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Rumor is she's going to be appointed head next time there's a re-organization"

The barristers waited quietly while the judges mulled over the situation. Finally, Madam Bones pronounced, "It is the opinion of this court that Mr. Harry Potter remain in the care of the Weasley on a probationary basis for the rest of the summer. Baring any unforeseen circumstances, he will continue in their care until he reaches his majority! Case dismissed!"

The judge in the center crumpled a piece of parchment into his hand and promptly scuttled off, his robe trailing behind him in a slug-like fashion, leaving his two compatriots agape.

*Meta*Meta*

After the drama of the courtroom, the rest of the summer was uneventful, punctuated only by Ron Weasley being appointed a prefect.

"How did this happen?" Fred stood, gob smacked, looking at the badge that the delivery owl had brought. "When did little Ronnie-kins get to be such a goodie-two-shoes?"

"I remember the old days, when he would join us in our adventures, frolicking through the flowers, but I guess that's all at an end." mourned the second.

"Don't be childish", scolded Molly, "Ron worked hard for this." The family was seated in the den. Arthur had put down the sunday paper when the hubbub had started, and Molly had come in from the kitchen.

"Yes, Ron really has put his nose to the grindstone." she turned to her youngest child. "You're an example for the whole school."

At the same time one twin leaned over to Harry and whispered, "maybe WE should put his nose to the grindstone." But Harry had learned to ignore such ominous whispers from the two troublemakers, for they did not mean it.

The other twin added, "Ron really does deserve it - After Ginny died, he's become really serious. Maybe too serious. I just hope he doesn't end up like Percy" Percy had apparently had a falling out with the rest of the family over whether Voldemort was actually back or not. He hadn't visited once while Harry was living there, communicating exclusively through Owl post.

"Soo.. can I have a broom?" Ron asked, "You know, as a reward?"

Molly sighed indulgently, and after a quick questioning glance at Arthur, replied, "We will see if there is anything in our price range when I go get school supplies on Tuesday."

Ron was almost bouncing with glee for the rest of the day, and even Harry got pulled into the inevitable game of quidditch.

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