He could claim to hardly believe the child's words, but it was all too easy to tell he was being truthful. Michael had woken up with troubled thoughts and decided to postpone any merge paperwork to instead look into the Dursley family, with a special focus on their nephew. A stop by Grunnings with the excuse of double-checking the written reports - which he did end up doing if only not to waste time in another visit later - told him Vernon Dursley sometimes complained about his good-for-nothing nephew to employees, often using the child as a comparison if any delivered subpar work.

He could hardly look into their school, which Mr Dursley bragged about his son's outstanding grades for an eight-year-old, given it was not in session at the time, but talking to their neighbours was also an option, which is what eventually brought him to the Dursley's garden once he caught sight of their nephew working on it, no gloves on sight. He was still not sure of the boy's age, but one of the employees had implied he was the same age as the Dursley's son, which in itself was worrying given the child's size. He was just about to ask on the topic of meals when the sound of a door opening had him looking up.

"Boy, are you don- Oh, Mr Wright" Mrs Dursley's shrill tone softened somewhat at the sight of him, and keeping his disgust from showing in his face was probably the hardest feat he'd ever accomplished "What brings you back so soon? I hope my nephew wasn't disturbing you"

"Not at all, I was just in the neighbourhood and saw these beautiful roses. I was asking him how they stay so healthy" He lied with ease, though he had been in the neighbourhood.

"Oh, he wouldn't know about that" she waved a hand dismissively "I only have him weed the garden, hard work is good for building character"

"You're right, of course" he nodded in agreement, figuring she'd never done a hard day's work in her life then, to develop such a character, "Harry said as much, but unfortunately I must leave. I only stopped by at Eliza's for an early lunch"

He had not, but he did learn that Elizabeth, one of their neighbours, hated Petunia and would sooner spit on her than hold a dialogue, so it was as good an excuse as any. Besides, it was worth it to see the woman's smile grow colder, probably wondering if his association with her next-door neighbour would influence his opinion of them. As if it could get any lower.

"Of course, It was a pleasure to see you again" She offered.

"Likewise" he returned politely "Do tell Vernon to expect a call by Friday, at the latest" he added before leaving without a second look towards the child. He doubted a goodbye would help the boy's standing with his aunt.

He entered his car and let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as his head rested back on the car seat. He had enough information to bring to the Social Services Department, but something told him he would need more assurance than a simple investigation. He couldn't possibly be the only one to notice something was wrong. In fact, Elizabeth had mentioned the authorities visiting the house before, once after her own call, but nothing had come of it. No, whatever in him that seemed to push him towards the boy was telling him to act with a better, surer plan of action.

With that in mind, he started the car towards the closest library.

July 24th, 1988

Harry woke up to the knocking of wood on wood at the door of his cupboard, and Aunt Petunia yelling at him to get up already and help with breakfast. He didn't change out of his pyjamas before following the order, hurrying to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been in a really good mood since the day before when Uncle Vernon got an important phone call - which he knows because he accidentally made some noise while taking the folded laundry upstairs - but that could change any time, so he made sure to go fetch the eggs when his aunt told him to and got up on the stool to watch the bacon while she woke Dudley up. He wouldn't complain, just the smell was great and he was sure he'd get at least some of it if nothing happened to make them mad again.

Uncle Vernon took until the middle of breakfast - where Harry got to eat toast with eggs and a piece of bacon and even some milk! - to come to the kitchen, and he was smiling. It wasn't even those mean smiles he gave when Harry realized he was in trouble and he knew it, but one he saved for when things were going really well at his job. Harry didn't trust it though and shoved the rest of his bacon down like Dudley usually did, swallowing the rest of the milk before Uncle Vernon could even think of taking anything away.

"Tuney, you should start on that chicken of yours for lunch, it takes a while, and Mr Wright will be joining us to sign the contract," Uncle Vernon told her, and went on to brag about something that Harry decided to tune out as he got up and picked up the used dishes to wash.

He remembered Mr Wright, that was the man that asked him about the cupboard and the chores, and he was happy to know he hadn't talked to Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia about it, at least it didn't look like he did since Harry spent the rest of the week with only two threats of the belt instead of wincing every time he sat down.

Aunt Petunia ended up making him stuff the chicken, and it was kind of gross, so that's probably why she didn't want to do it in the first place. He didn't have to do much else for lunch besides cut the stuff that went into the chicken, so his aunt told him to go clean the table after Uncle Vernon finished eating and dust the low shelves in the living room, then go clean Dudley's toy room.

Dudley had gone off to play with Piers after breakfast so Harry didn't have to put up with him complaining about the Freak touching his toys, and Harry could play - but just a little bit so he wasn't caught - with some of Dudley's toys while he cleaned. He didn't like the toy fighters with silly masks or the cars but thought the toy train was really cool and liked to make up places he'd go to if he could just get on a train and leave. He'd pick up Dudley's little toy soldiers and put them on the train, send them off to have awesome adventures like the characters in Dudley's books. He liked the books, and Dudley almost never read them, so he sometimes sneaked one into his cupboard and read it at night, or when he got locked up for too long.

"Harry!" Uncle Vernon's voice made him drop the toy train and his eyes widened in fear, picking it up and looking it over before realizing it wasn't broken anywhere.

He ran out the door in a hurry then, because his uncle never called him Harry, just Boy or Freak, and hoped really hard that it didn't mean he was very mad at him. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Uncle Vernon was red in the face and glaring at some people in the living room. He didn't know any of the people, except-

"Hello, Harry," Mr Wright smiled at him, and he didn't want to be impolite, it always made Aunt Petunia would be upset, so he smiled back.

"What lies have you been spreading this time, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, making Harry's whole body go cold and still "wasting the good people's time, I say"

"We'll be the judges of that," a stern-faced woman said, walking closer to him "We'd like to ask you some questions, Mr Potter. Would that be alright?"

He glanced at her before looking at Uncle Vernon, who had his meanest look on and shook his head a bit. The woman in front of him sighed and he looked back to see her watching Uncle Vernon too.

"If you would please join your wife in the kitchen," She said, but Harry didn't think her request had left much choice at all. He watched a large-shouldered man, that he also didn't know, follow his uncle to the kitchen, and then the woman was looking at him again "My name is Helen Jones, Mr Potter, and I need you to answer a few questions for me. Come, let's sit."

He didn't want to move, he wanted to run back upstairs and stay very quiet and pretend he wasn't there for Uncle Vernon to find with his belt when everyone left. But he couldn't do that, so he went with the woman to the couch.

"It's alright, Harry, you just need to tell them what you told me," Mr Wright said, and Harry's head snapped to the side to glare at him.

"You said you wouldn't tell!" He couldn't believe Mr Wright had done this, he promised!

"I said I wouldn't talk to your relatives, and I didn't" Harry blinked, was he lying just like that? "I talked to the Social Services Department, and they're the ones talking to your aunt and uncle."

"Why?" He asked, confused but figuring that meant that he'd talked to these other people he'd brought with him.

"Because they're wrong, and someone needed to do something about it" Mr Wright answers, sounding so sure that Harry can't help but believe him a little.

"Mr Potter, would you like me to send Mr Wright away before starting with the questions?"

He looks at Mr Wright, but he doesn't do anything to tell Harry the right answer, not like Uncle Vernon. The woman could probably make him leave like she did with his uncle, but… he didn't want her to, for some reason. He shook his head and tried not to move much when all her attention was on him, he didn't like the feeling at all, it was so much better when people didn't see him. When people don't see him, they can't be mad at him.

Watching Mrs Jones interrogate the child was an exercise in self-restraint, and Michael should probably be awarded a medal for not storming into the kitchen and trying to cause at least a fraction of Harry's pain back on his relatives. Besides all he'd heard at the start of the week, they also learned Harry was often given the bare minimum of food, if not outright denied, and while thankfully nothing of sexual nature had ever been done to him, it was a small mercy given everything.

"Thank you, Mr Potter, that'll be all for now," Mrs Jones said, pulling him out of his musings as she turned off her tape recorder and put away her notebook, standing from the couch "Murray, are you done?" She called towards the kitchen.

"Just about!" Came the man's answer, followed by the sound of chairs scraping on the floor, and the man came out of the kitchen followed by the Dursleys "As we've discussed, an investigation has been started and the case has the possibility of reaching the court, which will allow you legal representation, but only then, given this is not as of yet a criminal investigation unless the law enforcement becomes involved."

"So you're not taking the boy?" Vernon Dursley asks, and Michael does not appreciate the man's angry expression, no matter how restrained due to the current company.

"Not without a court order, but we will be making a follow-up visit in the next week, without warning" Mrs Jones assured the couple, to little change in Mr Dursley's disposition.

He risked a glance at Harry to find the child looking at nothing in particular, but with such resignment in his expression that constricted his heart. That was the face of a boy who'd hoped before and had it shattered, he realized. Good thing Michael was not solely dependent on the SSD's actions. He watched the two workers leave without moving away from the couch, waiting until the sound of the front door closing reached them before opening his briefcase in his lap just as the couple turned away from the door.

"What are you still doing here?" Mr Dursley bellowed, and he noticed Harry flinch at the sound, which only hardened his resolve.

"I have a proposition for you" He answered, grabbing six slips of paper from the briefcase before closing it "We could let this be dragged into court, doubtlessly wasting both valuable time and money, as well as allow your reputation and career to take quite a plunge if, let's say, the media took an interest in the case"

"Or?" Mr Dursley asked in a venomous tone as he stepped towards the couch, no doubt expecting some form of monetary extortion.

"Vernon-"

"Let the shark speak, Tuney" Mr Dursley cut off his wife's protest "no harm in hearing him out"

"Or you could both sign these" Michael held up the papers "granting me temporary guardianship of Harry for the next year, as well as a motion for permanent custody to be filed at my discretion once a suitable guardian is chosen. I'll tell the SSD the matter's been resolved, and when the custody hearing comes, I'll make sure it's as discreet as possible."

"That's it?" Mr Dursley sounds surprised "you take the boy off our hands, no catch?"

"I'd strongly advise Grunnings to maintain our firm on retainer but place a request for an alternate legal representative" He adds because he would rather not lose the business, but definitely did not want to deal with Vernon Dursley for longer than strictly necessary "that's all I ask. No monetary compensation will be asked for at any later moment, and my fees are already covered by the company."

"Deal" Mr Dursley doesn't even hesitate, and Michael wished he had not expected as much.

"Vernon, what about the- letter?" Mrs Dursley questioned in a worried tone.

"We won't need anything from those freaks if the boy doesn't even live here anymore" Mr Dursley was quick to reassure her, and Michael narrowed his eyes at the exchange "good riddance, I say. Where do we sign?"

Michael stood, with one last glance at Harry's clearly confused and worried expression even though he clearly wouldn't dare speak, and walked with them to the dining table, presenting the papers to the couple. Three copies of the same petition for temporary guardianship, already passed by a close friend of his who happened to be a judge and only lacking the current guardians' signatures, while the remaining three were copies of the petition for permanent custody, lacking not only their signatures but the information on the guardian-to-be as well. While temporary guardianship had been reasonably easy to arrange through less conventional means, a change in custody to a non-parent can only be granted at a hearing, but it's not bound to be any trouble when the previous guardians have nothing against it.

"There," Mr Dursley said after signing the last dotted line.

"I will, of course, be needing any of Harry's belongings as well as any remaining belongings of his late parents before I take him off your hands" He reminded them, placing the papers back in his briefcase.

Mr Dursley only motioned towards the cupboard before walking to the kitchen, and Michael could hear him muttering about needing a celebratory beer. Mrs Dursley was looking at the briefcase, seeming conflicted, but seemed to pull herself together when he cleared his throat.

"I've got nothing of theirs, there's probably some stuff on the old house back at Spinner's End if the house wasn't ransacked by the local delinquents, but it's not mine and if the boy inherited it, I didn't hear about it" She informed him "his things are in the cupboard, be quick"

He let his distaste show in his expression as he turned his back to her, refusing to thank such a woman for anything, and moved back towards the couch, kneeling in front of Harry.

"Harry, I need you to do something for me," he said in a soft tone, given the boy had leaned away when he came close. He waited until green eyes met his before continuing "I need you to go to the cupboard and grab anything you want to keep. You won't be coming back here."

He could tell the moment his words registered in the child's mind, eyes widening in hope and awe as if a miracle had just been performed in front of him. For all Michael had learned that morning, it might as well have. He watched the boy nod rapidly and run to the cupboard, grabbing things noisily and, if the ripping of paper was what he thought, pulling his drawings from the walls. It took barely a minute before the boy was back, all of his belongings folded inside a sheet and bundled up in his arms. He reached to help Harry carry it but aborted the motion at the slight tightening of the child's arms around the bundle.

"Good," he declared, grabbing his suitcase "goodbye, Mrs Dursley. Do let your husband know I hope to never see him again" he declared, motioning for Harry to follow him to the door. The child walked subduedly a step behind him, and they made it to the car before he spoke another word.

"Am I going to the orphanage?" the soft tone was still full of worry and fear, no matter how glad the child had seemed to be about leaving "Aunt Petunia said that's where bad boys go, and Uncle Vernon said it's nightmare stuff- I don't wanna go to the orphanage, Mr Wright, please"

He could see the tears starting to well up in Harry's eyes and quickly crouched down in front of him, not touching him but not looming over him either.

"You're not going to the orphanage, I promise" He assured, "did you hear what I talked about with- them?"

"I-I don't get it," Harry answered, sniffing slightly and seeming to hold his breath for a moment.

He would need to assure him it was alright to cry. Actually, he had a feeling he'd need to assure Harry of a great many things as soon as possible. But not out in the middle of the street.

"I made them sign a paper that says I'm your guardian, at least for now" he explains, "that means you'll be living with me for a while, so no, you won't go to an orphanage, Harry."

"Oh" was apparently all the child had to say on the matter, and he got into the car in silence after the door was opened for him.

Michael watched Harry put on the seatbelt without prompting and closed the passenger door, sliding into the driver's seat a moment later. He'd done it, he thought as it finally sunk in. He took Harry away from his abusive relatives. And apparently acquired himself a temporary ward, he realized in a more inside mood. He knew very little about children, never having planned on one of his own - though he wasn't sure why his mind was so made up about it - and considering himself too young to think of any other arrangements given he'd only just turned twenty-seven, but there were no regrets in his mind at this course of action.

He glanced to his side at Harry, noticing the child leaning against the door with heavy eyes, and nodded to himself. He'd done the right thing, and they'd be just fine for it.