Sorry for the delay, I've had computer troubles.

Thank you to the people that reviewed the last chapter, it is very much appreciated.

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 3

The phone rang again. Harry had been sat on his bed reading one of his old transfiguration text books for something to do when he was disturbed.

"Hey Harry." Dudley's voice drifted down the phone, sounding much happier than he had over the past two days. "We were wondering if you wanted to come over for Sunday lunch?" he asked, sounding nervous, as if he dreaded Harry declining the offer.

"I don't know Dud'." It was just too hard. He didn't want to be at Grimmauld Place, but nor did he want to be reminded of what he had lost.

"Please, I thought that maybe we should tell them about Pip, before something happens."

Harry shut his eyes and sighed. "Sure, I'll be there soon."

He was once again sat around the massive oaken table in the kitchen of the Addison residence. The whole family was there this time. Susan, as he had learnt her name to be, was placing steaming plates of meat, vegetables and potatoes before them.

"I'm so glad that you could make it today, Harry." She said, smiling at her guest.

"Thank you for having me." He smiled and he thought that at least a small part of him meant it.

As he was pouring gravy over his lunch Dudley spoke. He never did do subtle, Harry thought.

"I – We – need to talk to you about Pip."

John raised one eyebrow. "What about her?"

"You know how strange things keep happening…" he waited for the hesitant nods "Well…Harry?"

Not knowing what to say he slipped his wand out of his sleeve. "Wingardium Leviosa." A fork floated off the table, hovered for a minute and then clattered back to the table.

Silence stretched on. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Magic is real. I'm a wizard, so was my dad. My mum was a witch but her sister wasn't. I don't know how genetics work, if she carried the gene but…inactive or if it works differently. But Pippa," he looked at the little girl who was watching him with wide eyes, "is a witch."

The silence stretched even further. Then there was nervous laughter. "What?" Yvonne choked.

"I know it sounds strange, but at least you know before she is eleven" he thought of the shock and confusion he felt on his birthday. "There's a school called Hogwarts; it's a boarding school for young magical people, it's great there. I don't know what'll happen if you choose not to send her, I guess she'll just never learn how to use her magic. There's nothing wrong with magic." He said defensively.

He was aware that he was rambling but he didn't know what to say.

"Ok then." John said, taking a bite of chicken." So what does this mean?"

"Nothing. She's the same Pippa and she always will be. At eleven, on September first she'll go to Hogwarts. McGonagall is Headmistress there now; she's nice, I can get her to talk to you if you like."

Yvonne nodded absently.

"What's it like, this magical world?" Matilda asked, her eyes shining.

"I don't know what there is to say." He replied, squirming; he wasn't used to so much attention. At the disappointed look in her eyes he continued. "Hogwarts is a big castle. And in the forest on the grounds there are centaurs and unicorns."

He was cut off by Michael snorting. "Now we know your messing with us."

"No, really, I've met them." He said. "The clothes are kind of silly and old fashioned."

"You said you're a police man." John said frowning; it was obvious that he didn't appreciate being lied to.

"I am. I'm called an Auror." He explained, "We're basically magical law enforcement."

John nodded.

"I know I asked yesterday, but maybe you can answer now." A smile played across Yvonne's lips. "Have you caught any really bad guys."

"There was this one guy." He said, trailing off.

Before he could continue Susan spoke, watching him intently.

"There must be some really dangerous people, with magic on their side."

"No more so than those with guns and bombs in place of magic. It's what people choose to do that creates the evil in the world, not their means of achieving it." He thought of Dumbledore, and something he had once said "It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."

Susan nodded, "I suppose that makes sense."

"Besides, magic offers better protection, too."

"What's magic like?" Matilda asked.

"Warm and tingly." He said, going with his very first experience of magic, that day in Diagon Alley. "And sparkly."

"Sparkly?" Michael said sceptically.

"Yeah, sparkly." Harry waved his wand to create a trail of shimmering red sparkles.

"What did that do?" Dudley asked and Harry sensed a note of worry in his voice.

"Absolutely nothing." Harry said, laughing, "Just made the sparkles."

Dudley nodded. They continued eating, Harry thought that the family was handling this incredibly calmly; they asked a few questions but that was all that was said on the matter.

The dinner was delicious and other than answering the families questions Harry ate in silence, listening to them natter about the week past and that to come. As Susan began to tidy up the dishes Harry stood to help her, staying as the family traipsed out to the sitting room.

"Can't you just magic them clean?" She asked, laughing, as if she didn't quite think that he would be able to.

He shook his head sadly. "You can, but I don't know how." He said. She looked at him incredulously and he shrugged with embarrassment. "Nobody ever taught me, and I never got around to learning them. It's just me at home and I wash all my dishes manually." Domestic magic had been taught in seventh year, and by parents as well, he supposed, and he had missed it; besides, cleaning the muggle way took longer and so worked as a distraction.

"Did they not teach you in school?"

"Hmm, I must have missed that lesson." He focused on the glass and dishcloth in his hand.

"You really don't have to do this you know."

"I don't mind." He said smiling. "You cooked so you shouldn't have to clean too."

"I find it therapeutic, especially after such a big shock."

"Me too." He said softly, not looking up as he moved onto the next utensil.

When Harry woke up the next morning he thought how strange it was that after a year and a half of solitude he had spent three days on the trot with a large group of people. He knew he wouldn't see them that night, after an unprecedented two days off work it was time to return to the Auror office and the criminals that he knew he would have to deal with and the paperwork that needed to be completed.

"Did you have a nice weekend, Harry?" Robards asked as he stepped out of the floo into the head Auror's office.

"Yes, thank you Sir."

Robards frowned sadly, he was hoping that after a real weekend the tension that constantly filled Harry's back, keeping his shoulders taut, would have begun to fade but if anything it was just reinforced. The boy looked just as tired as he had when he had left work on Friday and that was after a week spent chasing down rogue Death Eaters.

Harry slipped from the office to get started on his paperwork; he really should have done it over the weekend, but after being relegated from the office for two days he had not managed to get started yet. Harry often came to work early, for the same reason that he worked the maximum six days a week, and today was no different. As such, when he entered the main office, which was a maze of cubicles for the aurors to complete paperwork, it was empty. Most of the cubicles had pictures of family and loved ones taped to the edges or in picture frames and randomosities from home but Harry's own was sparse, a handful of quills and ink and a wedge of parchment, nothing more. At a tap of his wand a stack of paperwork appeared on the desk and he dived in, hoping to complete it as quickly as possible.

He had been working for an hour and the office had slowly filled up with his colleges when Robards came in, a frown marring his face.

"Potter." He barked. Harry's head jerked up. "I've just been down to the ward and the medi-witch on duty informed me that you didn't go visit her after that hex you took on Friday." It was a statement, not a question.

Harry just shrugged; it wasn't that bad, just a cut. His boss sighed and rubbed one hand over his face. "Go and see her, Harry, and then go home." He wasn't trying to be mean, but Harry worked too hard and failed to look after himself, frequently opting to put himself in the most dangerous positions and situations, Robards felt that it was a case of tough love.

Harry frowned and shuffled from the room. The Ministry infirmary, intended mostly for the use of the Auror Department, was situated several floors above the level the auror department occupied, and so was closer to ground level. In the lift Harry's hand did genuinely hover over the correct floor but he so hated visits to the infirmary, in fact he hated visits to anybody of the medical profession and so on a split moment decision he instead pressed the button for the atrium. Robards would know if he flooed home from his office; it was not the accepted norm that employers travelled immediately to and from departments, especially not from the auror office, but Harry hated travelling via the Atrium, when he had first started working at the Ministry soon after the defeat of Voldemort due to his fame and so Robards had allowed this one discretion.

As always, there was a queue at the floo. As he always did when it was the end of the working day, Harry found himself dreading the thought of returning to Grimmauld Place. Not even thinking about his actions he slipped out of the line for the floor and into the apparition ports. He glanced over his shoulder once, the voice of Mad-Eye Moody echoing through his memories, Constant Vigilance; there was no one suspicious lurking around. Harry snorted to himself at that thought, in the throng of people in the ministry entrance who could say if there was anybody suspicious and it wasn't as if they were going to be holding a big sign proclaiming "I'm suspicious, run away!"

Before he was expecting he was stood in the clear patch of ground that was allowed for apparition. Before he could talk himself out of it Harry pictured the lanes on the outskirts of Dorking and, with a twist and a pop, was stood in the Surrey countryside. It seemed that in no time at all Harry had reached his destination. His began to lead him away and soon he was looking up at the Addison residence and swore to himself. Now that he was here he didn't know what he was thinking. He turned around and walked back down the street. He stopped at the corner, where it turned onto the main road and sighed to himself. Why do I always have to make things so hard for myself? He thought.

Before he could answer a voice called out from a few metres away. "Harry?" His head shot up in surprise. Yvonne was pushing a pram before her as she approached, a smile lighting up her face. "It is you. What are you doing here?" she asked.

Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "Um, I don't really know." He said.

"Well, you're just in time to accompany me and Pip to the park." She smiled. It slipped slightly at Harry's face, "You don't have to, of course."

At her disappointed tone he conceded. "Sure. The park." With a nervous glance over one shoulder.

"Great."

They spent an hour in the park. Harry watched Yvonne play with Pip, pushing her on the swings and holding her as she slipped down the slide. It reminded him of Petunia playing with Dudley while he watched on, wishing. But he was no longer bitter about that. The whole time that he was there he felt an uncomfortable tingle down his spine, as if he was being watched, but every time that he looked nobody was there. He knew that he was just being paranoid, who would attack him in Dorking and besides, Voldemort had been defeated and the Death Eaters had been captured; he no longer had to be constantly looking over his shoulder for fear of dark forces.

Eventually Yvonne picked Pip back up and came and sat by Harry on the bench, bouncing her daughter on her knee.

"So do you not work Mondays, then?" She asked to break the silence.

He nodded in response. "So how come you're not in work today then?"

"I was sent home."

"Oh, ok." She said, but did not pry.

Small, chubby hands, suddenly latched onto Harry's trousers. He looked down, shocked, Pip looked up at him with wide, blue eyes. He sat stiffly, unsure of what to do. The next thing he knew the toddler was sat on his lap, Yvonne having removed her arm from around her middle.

"It's ok, Harry, she doesn't bite." He thought sadly of Teddy, who would never know his parents like this.

"I have a Godson, you know." He suddenly blurted out. "He's the same age as Pip."

Harry didn't see as much of Teddy as he felt that he should; he had spent the first year after Voldemorts demise cleaning the world of Death Eaters and the past six months following the same routine as the first. He visited for an hour or two the first Sunday of every month, but never for more than that. Andromeda had said something about wanting Harry to be more involved but not until he had sorted himself out and so they had come to a mutual agreement that visits remain as they were, so as to not distress Teddy. Harry, though, didn't believe that he would ever be sorted out, although Teddy was too young to understand at the moment.

"Yeah; you'll have to introduce the two."

Harry smiled, knowing that this was unlikely to ever happen.

"So is the child of a friend?" She asked.

"Sort of." He said, frowning. "He was my father's friend."

"Was?" She asked, curious.

"He's dead." Harry snapped.

At the horrified look on her face Harry softened, cursing himself. It wasn't something that he even usually admitted out loud. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have snapped, you weren't to know."

"It's ok." She said, frowning at how backwards it was that she was the one apologising. "I'm sorry about that. It was rude of me to ask."

Harry shook his head. "I should be leaving." He sighed. He felt too uncomfortable sat so out in the open; he still felt as if something was going to happen and didn't want Yvonne and Pip to get caught in the cross-fire when it did.

"Oh, if you're sure." Yvonne said, placing Pip back in her pushchair.

"Yeah, I should really get back to Grimmauld Place." He said, in hopes of not seeming too rude.

He walked her back home anyway, before apparating away. Back at Grimmauld Place, sat dejectedly on his bed, the uncomfortable tingle had not disappeared; it was the same feeling he got in the Graveyard after the Third Task, in the Ministry before Sirius arrived and just before the Snatchers caught him and the rest of the trio. It was not a good sign.

In his agitation he decided to floo back to the ministry; if something was going to happen then he had to help in any way that he could, namely in his occupation as an auror. When he flooed into Robards' office the man wasn't in there; rationally Harry knew that he was a very busy man and did not spend the majority of his time in the office, but his absences did nothing to calm Harry's nerve. He swept from the room in search of a colleague. As he was approaching the door to the main office he heard voices, again, this was not a strange occurrence, but Harry's paranoia had hit full force and so he took it as a bad sign.

"There's been a sighting in Surrey-" Robards' voice floated from the room to Harry's ears.

Without even stopping to think Harry flew into action. Within moments he stood in the street at the end of the path leading to his cousin's front door. He could see Yvonne stood in the doorway, Pip balanced on one hip. In front of her was a tall slender man in a set of long black robes. But what Harry noticed was the long, silver blond hair trailing down his back. Lucius Malfoy.

"Get away from her!" He shouted, springing forwards a step.

The man pivoted neatly on one foot towards his voice. Harry saw that he had been holding out a sheave of parchment to Yvonne and that her hand was mere inches away. "Accio parchment!" He exclaimed without thinking, his voice still in a shout. As the offending sheet zoomed towards him, one of Malfoy's elegant eyebrows arched and his mouth twitched into a smirk.

As the parchment slammed into his outstretched palm he felt a horrifyingly familiar tug behind his navel before the world contorted, all of the colours blending into one and Dorking was no more.

Thanks for reading, I hope that you enjoyed.

Koosh