DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$ from this…

A/N: And now the plot thickens…

CHAPTER TEN: A DISASTER IN THE MAKING

MONDAY, MAY 23, 1988 - ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL, LONDON, U.K.

Harry had begun physical therapy the next day and was now encouraged to get out of his bed as often and for as long as he felt comfortable. His left arm was still in a cast and sling, but he was told that unless something was wrong, the cast would come off later that week. While physical therapy was much harder and far less fun than he had hoped, he was pleased that he was no longer mostly bed ridden.

He was sitting in a chair at a table in his room when Hermione arrived after she finished school. She had started to admonish him for being out of bed, but he told her he had permission and was basically told to spend as much time out of bed as he could stand. She was elated and when he stood, threw herself into his arms. Fortunately, she was very gentle about it. Harry was still a little sore. Still, even if she had hurt him by accident, he would not have minded. It was the first time he remembered ever being hugged by anyone and, to be honest, he liked it.

Harry was surprised when both of the Grangers showed up just as he and Hermione were sitting down to supper in Harry's room on Monday evening. Aside from the day when he first woke up, he had seen one or the other each evening or in the mornings on weekends, but never the two at the same time. Hermione told him that because they were dentists getting that much time off was not easy. Still, Harry had appreciated their visits, even if it was only to stop by briefly for a chat, and to drop off or pick up his school work before taking Hermione home.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said apprehensively, "what brings you here? I mean you're never here this early and I haven't seen the both of you on week days. Is something wrong?"

"Depends upon who we are talking about, Harry," Mr. Granger laughed. "As far as you are concerned, I guess you could say its wonderful news."

"What is it, Daddy?" Hermione asked as Harry seemed to be at a loss for words.

"We got a call at our office this afternoon from Harry's Social Worker," Mr. Granger explained. "Seems his relations finally returned from their vacation to the Bahamas yesterday. Don't know why they told Harry it was the Caribbean as that's not where the Bahamas are."

"Probably 'cause their ignorant," Mrs. Granger offered.

"Yeah. Most likely," Mr. Granger agreed. "Anyway, due to the warrant, they were detained in customs - well, that is all but that Marge person. There was no warrant for her as there was insufficient evidence to obtain one, but that's neither here nor there.

"Anyway, they stand charged with Child Abuse, Neglect, Endangerment and Abandonment. Serious charges to be sure. Still, as they have no prior criminal record, they were offered a deal to avoid going to jail and having to post bail."

"What kind of deal?" Harry asked.

"They signed papers permanently relinquishing any control over you. They are now no longer your guardians nor custodians. You'll never have to see them again and certainly never have to live there again."

"Brilliant! But I thought I was living with you anyway."

"As a foster child. As a foster child, unless your relatives lost legal control over you permanently or did as they did here, gave it up to someone else, there was a chance you could have been sent back."

Harry was a little surprised to learn this. "And what about me now?"

"You have new, permanent guardians. We actually petitioned for it the same time we volunteered to take you in as foster parents. You're relatives signed away their rights and you're now permanently part of this family. Once you're cleared to leave, you'll be moving in with us. It might be a pinch as we intend to send you to school with Hermione and it's not cheap, but no worries. It's the least we can do for you."

Harry was clearly tearing up. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because you deserve to be treated like a normal little boy," Mrs. Granger said. "Because Hermione really likes you and we do too. Bob and I always wanted another child, but there were reasons why we never had one."

"What reasons, Mummy?" Hermione asked.

"Later, Sweetie. We'll tell you when school's over, okay?"

"I suppose," Hermione pouted.

"You would like to live with Hermione and us Harry?" Mr. Granger asked.

"Yes," he said softly. "I'd like that very much. Is it really that easy?"

"For you it is, yes. We had to do interviews and such, but the government moved far more quickly regarding you than either Rosie or I thought possible. I guess it was because of how bad things were for you before."

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said. "You have no idea what this means to me."

The Grangers nodded. True, they did not really know, but they could guess.

"Brings up another thing, Harry," Mr. Granger said. "While your Aunt and Uncle are charged, they still have to stand trial. To obtain a conviction, it is likely that you may have to offer evidence in Court. You understand what that means?"

"No sir, not really."

"It means you will have to go to court and answer questions about what happened to you and how you lived when you were with your relatives. It also means their lawyer gets to ask you questions and it's a fair bet he's going to try and make you look bad. I've had to be a witness once and I can tell you it's no fun. But without your testimony, your Aunt and Uncle will not be tried."

"Do I have to?"

"No Harry. We think you should. Your Aunt and Uncle - and especially your uncle - were terrible to you to say the least. The police have told us you were one of the worst cases they have seen where the child did not die at the hands of their relatives. But, as bad as they were, it's up to you."

"If I don't, can they take me back?"

"No Harry. That can never happen. They signed away that right. You're done with them forever."

"Good. I mean that's all I ever really wanted."

"Still, Harry. They deserve to go to jail for what they did to you."

Harry nodded. "Do I have to do it now?"

"No Harry. There's plenty of time. Think about it, okay?"

"I will," Harry said. He wasn't sure he wanted to go to Court about this. After all, he got what he wanted. So what if they never got what they deserved. Still, he would think about it.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 1988 - HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHRAFT AND WIZARDRY, SCOTLAND, U.K.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had only just arrived back at his school after several weeks absence. He had other duties as well and they took up a fair amount of his time. His frequent absences from the school were known to all and seldom commented upon. Still, as always, upon his return he almost always found a mountain of work waiting for him. He had been sifting through the paperwork on his desk for the last several hours.

The most disturbing paper was a letter from Professor Caspian. She taught a course called "Defense Against the Dark Arts." She had only been on the job for this past academic year and was well regarded in her short tenure by students and staff alike. Yet, here in black and white was her resignation. She was getting married - which surprised the Headmaster as he was unaware that she had any romantic life. Still, she was young so he guessed this was to be expected. Her position had been a source of constant frustration to him for almost thirty years. No professor had held the post for more than a year and a half. Well, he thought, at least she's going to finish out this term. He had had more than enough mid-year resignations from that position.

Tired from his journey he now focused on catching up on the school's business as soon as possible, not to mention answering goodness knows how many letters, Albus did not notice the strange instruments aligned on a self on the far side of his office. The truth was, as important as they were, he almost never noticed them. For years they had continued their various movements and displays without any noticeable change or interruption. So much so that he barely even recalled they were there. There had been no need to check on them. Had he bothered to look, he would have seen that all of the instruments had ceased to function.

A knock at his office door caused him to look up from his work. Only one person could access his office without his prior invitation: the school's Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. He sighed. She was judicious in her use of that privilege and only knocked when there was something that truly demanded his attention. Still, he had hoped to get through the piles of papers before a new crisis rose its head.

"Come in," he said loud enough.

A tall and severe looking woman entered the room. Dressed in flowing, emerald colored robes with a short yet pointed hat and wearing square shaped, wire rimed glasses, she looked to be in her mid to late fifties, but Albus knew she was much older. She was thirty-eight when she started as an instructor, and that was over thirty years ago.

"Ah, Minerva," he said cheerily, "and what, pray tell, can you do to take me away from this monotony of papers? You are aware that once again I shall be short an instructor? Sharon has submitted her resignation."

"Indeed I am," she replied. "But I regret that's not why I am here, Albus. Auror Shacklebolt wishes to speak with you. He says it's urgent."

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed. A tall man with dark skin entered. In his attire he could easily be confused with a banker, but he was anything but a banker. He was a wizard, one of few who could truly pass unnoticed in the non-magical world. Despite being a Pureblood, he knew the non-magical world as if he had grown up in it, which in fact he had. He was raised in Jamaica where the lines between magic and non-magic were blurred most effectively. This made him an exceptional Auror, as he could interact with non-magical law enforcement with some ease that no other Auror seemed to possess or comprehend.

Kingsley Shackelbolt had also been a member of the Order of the Phoenix, dedicated to the defeat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He had joined the Order just after graduating at the top of his Auror class at the Academy and, maybe not coincidently, just after the Longbottoms and Potters had been sent into hiding. A protégé of the famous Auror Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody, he feared few and was far more a warrior than his government would like to admit. In combat he could be quite terrifying. But this was not combat.

"Professor," he said formally.

"Kingsley," Albus replied. "The remaining Death Eaters up to something, I take it?"

"No Sir. No evidence of Dark Magic or Unforgivables to speak of. This is more of a personal matter, to you that is. You asked for certain reports from a Squib Ms. Arabella Figg? Should you be away, she was to forward any such reports to me, yes?"

"And how is the indomitable Ms. Figg?" Albus asked.

"Late last night she contacted me in a panic. She said the target was ablaze and burning to the ground despite the best efforts of the local Fire Brigade. Later she reported bodies being removed in bags. I would have reported sooner, but as this is not official business…"

"Where?" Albus asked in a panic. "Did she tell you an address?"

"Number 4 on her street," Kingsley said.

"How many bodies?" Albus asked even more in a panic.

"At least three, she said. Maybe more."

"And no sign of Death Eater activity?"

"It's a Muggle household. No spells were detected so naturally, it's none of our business."

Albus's mouth almost dropped open, but Minerva did notice his face pale unnaturally. He looked over at the instruments he had long ignored. They had once danced merrily, as he liked to think of it. Now they all seemed dead to him. "Merlin's Beard," he exclaimed as quietly as he could.

"Albus?" Minerva asked with concern losing her usually formal voice.

"This is critical," Albus said to the Auror ignoring his Deputy for the time being. "You must find out what happened there! You must find out the fate of all the occupants of that house! All of them for there were four who lived there. This is more important than anything! Understand?"

"No sir," Kingsley said honestly, "I do not. It was a Muggle home. There's no evidence of a Death Eater attack. But you ask, so I shall find the answers!"

"Thank you! Now! Sooner rather than later!"

"How important is this, Sir?"

"Life and death, my friend. Life and death for us all in the end."

"Yes Sir." Kingsley immediately hurried from the office.

"Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Were I what the Muggles call a God fearing man," Albus replied, "I would be terrified beyond anything, Minerva. I am not. Still I am seriously concerned about our future."

"What do you mean?"

"Unless I am mistaken, something terrible has happened. It may have just been a freak occurrence. It may also have been the result of a deliberate act. How matters not. If it has happened, all will be lost."

"What Albus? What has happened?"

"I pray that for once I am so wrong Minerva."

"What?"

"But if my instruments are right," Albus was soon lost in thought.

"What?"

"Harry Potter is dead."

"WHAT?"

WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 1988 - NUMBER 4 PRIVET DRIVE, LITTLE WHINGING, SURREY, U.K.

Investigator Smith of the Surrey Police had been pacing just outside the police line for several hours as the Fire Brigade finished with the site and the Chief Fire Investigator and his team combed through the rubble of what had once been a family and their home. He was worried as the man of the house had recently been subject to arrest for child abuse and such. This could be a suicide / murder deal or just plain murder. The preliminary investigation of the mutt suggested he had some less than savory business relations so this could be a hit or just plain arson. His job was usually so quiet. Much as he knew his men would love the overtime pay, they also liked their almost normal hours. Worst case, this was an all hands on deck case. So much for the summer holidays with the kids, he thought.

"Ah, Captain Anson," he said as the man with the yellow jacket walked towards him. Anson was the chief fire investigator for the area. "This a crime scene?"

"Pity for you and your blokes," Anson said, "'fraid not. Just a bloody disaster."

"What do you mean?"

"No sign of accelerants or other unnatural sources of ignition," Anson replied. "Not a bloody electrical fire either. Here!" He handed Smith what looked like a copper pipe. "Gas line. They're all not much better," he said.

"Looks fine to me," Smith said.

"Squeeze it," Anson suggested. Smith did and it all but dissolved between his fingers.

"Bloody hell!"

"Gas supply is contaminated with something," Smith continued. "Some kind of oxidizing agent's been eating at the copper from the inside of the pipes, probably for years. Best guess is the entire supply is compromised. It's a wonder the whole neighborhood didn't go up. Too early to tell. Could be water. Then again, upstream the supply to this house passes through a chlorine plant. If there's contamination - bugger us all! The whole bloody town could go up!"

"So this house is just the first?"

"I'd say so. Need to shut off the gas and check everything in the system."

"Gonna cost someone a bloody fortune!"

"Better them than us, eh?"

"Thank God it's summer almost!"

"Yeah. We've already contacted the gas company. They're pissed as hell, of course. But they've shut off the supply to this part of Surrey. Chlorine company and everyone downstream are shut off for now."

"So this is just an unfortunate accident?"

"Seems that way, Inspector. Investigation is still ongoing, of course."

"Of course," Investigator Smith nodded. Deep down he was relieved. He hated murder investigations. They were all so depressing.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 1988 - HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, SCOTLAND, U.K.

"What do you mean Harry Potter is dead?" McGonagall asked incredulously!

"I mean it's the most likely scenario," Dumbledore replied. He was clearly depressed about the possibility. "These devices," he said to Minerva pointing to the now motionless objects on a long ignored bookcase, "two of them monitor the wards on Privet Drive. The other four monitor Harry. They were all quite animated as always when last I looked, which was a few weeks ago. Now they are silent and motionless.

"The wards have clearly fallen. Only two things could do that. The less likely is Harry found a new home and new family. Bloody doubtful as the Dursleys would never allow that. They've been making too much money off of the boy. The more likely are the Death Eaters found him or he died. His monitors are all silent as well, supporting the conclusion that he's gone. True, they are tied into the Wards on his Aunt's house, still. Best case, he is lost to us. Worst case, he's dead. Either way, in the long term we are ruined!"

"I told you not to leave them with that family, Albus!"

"You don't understand, Minerva. It was the only place that could be safe for him! His mother's sacrifice! The Wards I could create from that! Nothing evil should have befallen him!"

"Except his relations," Minerva said. "Worst sort of people they are! I told you!"

"His Aunt was his mother's sister! Blood is thicker than water!"

"You really do not understand human relations, do you Albus! Sometimes, being related is worse than being enemies! His Aunt and her husband would have treated him worse than a House Elf in the most brutal of Houses!"

"That was not unanticipated, Minerva," Albus said getting defensive. "His humility was important to develop!"

"AND NOW HE'S LOST OR DEAD! WAS THAT FOR YOUR GREATER GOOD, OR JUST YOUR HUBRIS RUN AMOK?"

"You're forgetting yourself, Minerva."

"Am I? Am I really, Albus? You lost a sister once. I lost my siblings, my husband, my children and grandchildren! You may see lives as a statistic on a ledger, Albus. I see them as people who deserved better. Was Harry nothing more than yet another pawn in your schemes? Did that boy not deserve a chance at a happy life? Who are you to play God, Albus?"

"Minerva…"

"I told you the day you dropped him off at that place your were making a terrible mistake. I hoped I was just being foolish and hoped time would prove me wrong. I now regret I did not do more for the boy!"

"Such as?"

"Such as take him from that place and leave him with a family that would care for him and protect him…"

"The Wards!"

"You place too much faith in magic and ignore humanity and it's obvious imperfections! You handed him over to a pair of Muggles that would have cast him into a fire if they thought they could get away with it! You forget, do you not? That man binned him! He was only a baby and the man put him out for the Dustman to pick up! Had his wife not been afraid of the possible legal retribution…

"Magic might protect him from Death Eaters - but doesn't that assume they knew where to look? You had to hand him over to a blood relative? You think if he went up for Muggle adoption those Pureblood bastards would have any clue where he was? He could have hidden in plain sight and they'd never find him. No! You placed your faith in magic and trusted blood would protect him. YOU WERE WRONG!

"Minerva," Albus pleaded with his old friend.

"NO! You made your bed, now lie in it!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of his office.

_____________________________________________________________

It was almost midnight before Kingsley Shackelbolt returned.

"I pray you have good news?" Dumbledore asked.

"Depends on what you consider good. It was not a Death Eater attack. Muggles confirmed it was something no magic could have done."

"What?"

"You expect me to understand their science? Pipes eaten away from inside. Everywhere, not just at that house. It was merely the first to go up in a gas fire. Any house in that town might have, Sir."

"And the occupants?"

"Three corpses were removed, all burnt beyond any recognition. Two adults and a child of unknown gender. Height places the child between age six and nine. Will be weeks before they have a positive identification. Kid has no fillings and thus no decent dental records to verify his or her identity."

"There were four living there."

"Really? Okay, Ms. Figg said so, but the muggles say otherwise."

"And what has Ms. Figg to say?"

"Hasn't seen any of them in weeks, Sir. Not a one!"

"Thank you," Dumbledore said dismissing the Auror. He was now certain the one person who could save the world from Voldemort was lost. How could this have happened? It seemed so - so avoidable! Maybe Minerva was right. Maybe he should have placed the boy somewhere else. Maybe…

THURSDAY, MAY 26, 1988 - MINISTRY OF MAGIC, LONDON, U.K.

Millicent Bagnold, the Minister for Magic, Chief Executive of Magical Britain and thereby the head of that government was furious. Before her was the most respected wizard alive and he was here to tell her he had failed so miserably she would be lucky to survive six more days in office? She had survived more assassination attempts than any Minister in history, yet should word of this colossal tragedy get out, she was gone - unless she could skillfully deflect the blame.

Millie was a skilled politician. She knew the game better than most and, more importantly, she was not beholding to anyone. Bribes had been part and parcel with her office for who knows how long before she assumed it. The fools knew she could not be bribed and was so clean she could not be blackmailed. She had no family so extortion was out of the question as well. But this? This could be her undoing - and it wasn't even her fault!

"So you're telling me, Albus," she growled, "that you've lost him? Worse still, he may be dead?"

"That would seem to be the situation," Albus Dumbledore replied.

"You have any idea what will happen if the word gets out?"

"I can imagine."

"Can you? Can you really? Everything I have worked for down the drain and all because YOU decided it what was best to do with that boy? And now you've lost him?"

"As I said, I am not unaware of the political ramifications, but there are larger issues at stake such that…"

"LARGER ISSUES? Look! I am no idiot! It may well be there are larger issues. But let's face the IMMEDIATE issue! You were entrusted by this government with the protection and well being of The Boy Who Lived. That's like the entrustment of the Mona Lisa with the Louvre! AND YOU'VE LOST HIM?"

"Minister, I…"

"I know your reputation, Sir! Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot! Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and you have more academic credentials than anyone - BUT YOU BLOODY WELL BUGGERED IT ON THIS ONE!"

Albus hated seeing her this way. She could cuss up a storm better than a sailor, had he known what that was. The problem was, she was right.

"Hate to say this, Dumbledore, but it's got to go public."

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

"If I try to cover this error in judgment up, they'll hang me first in the press and then in the legislature. I'll be out of office so fast and that arse licking bastard Fudge will be in replacing the Pureblood Conservative bog rolls with his tongue to get this office!"

Albus Dumbledore really hated when anyone got crude, but knew when Millicent did, she might have a real point.

"I'm sure we can…" Albus started.

"Ever hear the muggle American expression "Who's we, Kemosabe?' Forget we. You lost him. Our world entrusted him to your protection and YOU LOST HIM! This falls on your head! I sincerely doubt your positions are at risk if that comes out. The ICW could care less about our domestic troubles. Most of the Wizengamot either kisses your boney arse or is too scared to do anything. No one questions your ability as Headmaster of our best school. You can take the hit - AND YOU WILL!

"I'm sure I was not the only one to tell you that his welfare was not just your concern or to tell you I thought you had your head crammed so far up your bum you had to fart to breath on this one, Dumbledore. I'm sure I was not alone in that! The kid may have no memory as to what had happened and I admired your attempt to shield him from his celebrity for as long as possible - BUT TO LOSE HIM ALTOGETHER?"

"That was not my intent," Albus began.

"BUT IT IS NOW MY PROBLEM! You promised me he would be safe and would enter your school as planned in 1991. Seems you blew that one! I should not have trusted you with that child's welfare!"

"But he was important," he protested, "more important than you can imagine!"

"Yet you lost this treasure, didn't you? Let's ignore the scores of authors who have used him as inspiration for profitable books. Our world sees him like our non-magicals see the Princess of Wales and her two boys. You think our world is going to ignore this? You think we can hide it? Bloody hell! I cannot hide anything! There are leaks to the press throughout the Ministry!"

Albus nodded. There was nothing left to do really, for the damage had already been done. "I'll take the blame, Minister," he said. "I'll make the necessary statement to the press. The only thing they might fault you for is trusting me."

She nodded for that was the one concession she had wanted. It had been easier than she had expected. Dumbledore clearly was upset about the whole situation and obviously upset with himself. "And what do you intend to tell them - the press that is?"

"As I do not know for certain the boy's fate, I will tell them he died in that fire."

"Why?"

"If he is in the magical world, whether under safe keeping with some other family or as hostage to a former Death Eater, I'm sure we'll find out real soon."

"And if he's in the non-magical world?"

"For the next few years, no one will be looking for him."

The Minister nodded. "It might work. And I might be able to take advantage of the field day your going to enjoy in the press."

"How so?"

"While everyone is distracted by your scandalous loss, I might be able to finally have that case properly investigated."

"Small compensation," Albus sighed.

"Long overdue. Who knows, I might get doubly lucky and be able to rid myself of some of the less trust worthy types in the Ministry. This might actually turn out to be slightly beneficial."

Albus frowned but understood. Millicent Bagnold did not get to where she was without knowing how to be a cut throat politician and she would not lose sleep over a few ruined careers.

A/N: I don't see Dumbles as evil in this. Manipulative? You bet. Misguided? For certain. And most definitely insular and set in his ways, but not evil.