This chapter is dedicated to my friend from the RP group (you know who you are) who binge-read this in two hours and needed more content. I couldn't say no.

Also to TimeLadyHope on Ao3 who started reading and commented on nearly every chapter :D

October 23rd, 1988

Harry really didn't like not knowing things. He'd learned ever since he could remember that knowing things meant life got a little easier and not knowing made it a whole lot harder. He had to know every chore in the right order to get done so Aunt Petunia would let him eat his leftovers, had to know every right answer to get them wrong so his grades wouldn't be better than Dudley's, the times Uncle Vernon came back from work so he'd hide in his cupboard until his uncle had eaten and was too full to move for a while so he wouldn't get punished for anything his cousin decided to blame on him. Knowing things was important, the best places to hide, what sort of food wouldn't go bad if he hid it under a floorboard, how to get stains out of clothes before Aunt Petunia saw them, he used to make sure he remembered everything that he'd ever gotten in trouble for so he wouldn't do it again.

Leaving the Dursleys had been like a dream come true, even though it wasn't his parents showing up to rescue him from his cupboard like he'd wished for many times while lying in his cupboard at night. It also meant needing to learn a bunch of new things, like that he could go get food if he got hungry any time of the day, that his showers didn't have to be ice cold and quick, that reading wasn't just to be done behind the door of his room - a whole room just for him was still amazing - and that his door would never be locked unless he locked it himself. There were so many new rules to know and others to forget that sometimes he felt a little lost, like not having to hide in the library during break at school but sometimes still going there anyway - only after eating his snack that no one even tried to throw on the floor - because Hermione was trying to read every book in it by the time they left the school, and that he could and even should ask questions and Mr Wright would never get mad about it, even if they were silly ones, he'd tested it. He could even disagree with his guardian and instead of a walloping, he'd get to sit in Mr Wright's office and argue about it over a pinboard like a game.

He also got to know things that weren't super important but still useful, like how to use a coffee machine! Uncle Vernon couldn't drink it for some reason his doctor said, and Aunt Petunia liked tea, so he never learned how to use one, but Ms Sarah liked coffee better than tea and made it sometimes when she took him to get snacks in the break room at Mr Wright's work, so he watched her do it enough times to remember. The first time she was really busy and he brought her a mug of coffee with milk and lots of sugar the way he'd seen her do it, she'd smiled at him and messed up his hair and called him her little hero, even gave him some chocolate she'd been hiding in her drawer, so he figured it was a good thing to know. She even asked him to get coffee for her once or twice, though only if he got himself a snack, and she always had something else for him on her desk when he came back. He also learned that he shouldn't make anyone else coffee even if they asked, Ms Sarah and Mr Wright got really upset - not with him but still - the one time it happened.

Even with all the new things he had to know, there was still so much he didn't know, like how to make his hair stop growing back from a new haircut - he felt so bad for wasting Mr Wright's money but all he said was maybe they should let it grow out instead of cutting it - or how long it would be until he had to learn a whole new set of rules. He knew he couldn't stay with Mr Wright, he was there for some of the talks of magical guardians and how the witches wouldn't let him stay with a squib - what's wrong with squibs? Mr Wright is the best and not having magic doesn't change that - and he even remembered Mr Wright said he'd be living with him for a while, not forever. Except that for the first time in forever, he didn't want to be anywhere else.

Maybe that's why he'd been so scared the day before, when Mr Wright looked in pain and got sick all over the floor. He only remembered feeling like that one time when Aunt Petunia killed his little spider friend that kept him company in the cupboard, but even then it hadn't been quite as scary as thinking that Mr Wright might get badly hurt and leave him. He didn't want for Mr Wright to leave, or to be taken away by the witches, he wanted to stay with the man that rescued him from the Dursleys, that let him ask every question he could think of and never got mad if Harry climbed onto his lap while he was working, who asked about his day and took him to make friends even if he didn't really think he'd know what to do with so many of them when he'd never even had one before. Mr Wright was like– like what Harry wanted a dad to be like, and he didn't want anyone else to take his place.

Harry doesn't usually get what he wants, but since his life took this turn for the better, he hopes he gets to keep it like that a little longer.

Mr Wright also doesn't seem to want to get rid of him, for some reason. He doesn't know why the man would want him, but he isn't going to complain about it any time soon, and will just believe that Mr Wright meant it when he said that he would do what he could so Harry could stay, even if it could have been said just so he would stop crying like a baby on Mr Wright's shirt. He hadn't even meant to cry, but it there had been so much fear just all at once and the relief and he didn't know what to do with it, not when he didn't have to push it all down and hide it anymore so his relatives wouldn't notice and taunt him for it or make it worse. Maybe Mr Wright being so nice was turning him into a crybaby. If he gets to stay, it might even be worth it.

All the crying and hugging didn't mean the nightmares went away, this time about Mr Wright dying and Harry having to go back to the Dursleys. Maybe Mr Wright heard him at night - he really tried to be quiet even if it didn't always work - because the first thing he said during breakfast was that they were going over to the Changs.

That means flying!

"You look about to vibrate through your seat," Mr Wright says, but he's smiling so Harry figures it isn't a complaint.

"Sorry," he mumbles between bites of his eggs, just to be sure.

"Don't be, but they're not going anywhere, you can afford to chew and swallow your breakfast instead of inhaling it," this time it does have a bit of a tone, so Harry nods and tries to slow down, even if he's excited.

He really likes flying, even if flying with Cho means helping her train for Quidditch. Harry doesn't really didn't mind the games but it doesn't make a lot of sense to him, then again he doesn't get football either, it has way too many rules and he would rather watch a cartoon instead. Cho doesn't really mind if he takes off to fly between their games and sometimes even shows him tricks like how to hang upside-down on his broom without it flying off. He did it with Hermione once on the tree behind the house, but hanging from the broom was so much more fun!

"Done!" Harry says after washing down his last bite of toast with the rest of the orange juice, almost standing up before remembering to look at Mr Wright for permission.

"Alright, let's go," Mr Wright chuckles and Harry doesn't know what's funny and is too busy running to the fireplace to ask, "careful!"

"'s not that high," he mumbles while reaching for the floo powder on the tip of his toes, grinning when he reaches it and grabbing a handful before passing it over to Mr Wright and throwin his share down on the fireplace before stepping into it, "Chang Chambers!"

"Well, that's certainly unusual," Chang set down the piece of parchment on her office table, looking just as puzzled as Michael felt, "At least I think it is, I'm no healer or potions expert."

"Healer Dahlia did say it was unexpected," Michael confirms, sighing at the sight of the scribbled 'M's in the centre of the parchment, wondering why it hadn't managed to struggle all the way through his name at the very least.

"Nothing to do but move on," she advises dismissively, unsheathing her wand just long enough to vanish the parchment into non-existence, "I had hoped to explore other options, but I suppose we've reached our last resort."

"Not ominous at all," he tries to joke, though the thought that he was running out of choices was unsettling enough to turn his tone from light to wary.

"Doesn't have to be, it's simply fallen out of practice," Chang assures, pausing for a moment in thought before continuing, "you could perform a blood adoption ritual, it wouldn't make you his magical guardian but it would make you as good as his father and much harder to dismiss from his life."

"That would be the third time in just as many months that blood has been involved in rituals of some sort," he points out a little incredulously, "I thought blood magic was banned?"

At the very least, every magical law book he'd read so far had told him so, in varying vernacular but still with the same essence.

"Most of it is, except for the ones that rely on intention and only affect the ones to donate it," she explains with the same patience he's glimpsed from their exchanged correspondence, "Gringott's business isn't up to us, and the bloodline tracing can only be done with blood freely given by the one meant to drink it. The adoption ritual sits on a thin grey line in that it does affect someone other than the donor, but can only take hold with the subjects' clear intention and consent, which is why it's managed to remain legal, as well as being out of sight enough to be mostly forgotten by any but a few old families."

"I see," he nods, though it's still a little confusing and he'll definitely brush up on said law before even considering it, "what would be an example covered by the law, then?"

"Something like using blood to brew targeted potions. Imagine what one could do with a poison that only affects a single person," she doesn't need to elaborate for him to get the message, the thought of something like that being added to food or drink and only affecting its target was enough for him to agree that it should indeed be jail-worthy.

Even if any thought of the wizarding prison still made him shudder and question the morals of every person that never thought to change the current system, especially with the recently introduced Criminal Justice Act. Section 134 isn't there just to look pretty, even if he is still a little lost on when muggle laws apply in court and in what cases wizarding law takes precedence.

"So, blood adoption?" Michael prompts, not wanting to dwell on his thoughts for long.

"The custom was to blood adopt any heirs once they came of age to take part in the ritual," Chang starts in a lecturing tone, "Its main objective is to integrate the parents' magic with the child's and in most cases, it was used when a child was suspected of being a squib, like an attempt to kickstart their magic by adding more to it, or in hopes of triggering any specific family magics into existence."

"Family magics?" He frowns, not familiar with the term except for the healer's vague mentions.

"Parseltongue, for example," Chang explains, "natural occlumency, metamorphmagic, even a particular affinity for certain branches of magic can be inherited through family magic. The Chang family, for example, is very good at healing, though that hardly kept me from following my own path as you can see," she motions pointedly at the space around them, "returning to the point, the adopted child will be magically recognized as the offspring of the adopters after the ritual," she pauses in thought for a moment, frowning slightly, "I don't suppose the result has ever gone through muggle DNA testing, but any wizarding method will show the same result and the child may even come to show some characteristics of the adopters in time, such as having dark hair, being adopted by blondes, and then starting to grow slightly lighter hair, or having some of the parents' eye colour slowly mix into their own, though those are only the more noticeable signs."

"That seems… very permanent," he muses, amazed at what magic can make possible.

"You could always drop the child at the door of the closest police station," Chang suggests, her tone dripping sarcasm and making him roll his eyes.

"I get it, and I do want it to be permanent," he elaborates, the memory of Harry begging to stay still fresh in his mind, "but I don't want to erase his parents, he never even got to meet them."

"Are you deaf?" she mocks, "I never said anything about replacing one's parents, merely adding to them. If anything, they would be thankful for someone choosing to take in their child instead of leaving him to the muggles."

"And this would make it so they can't take him?" He insists. It is the whole point of their efforts.

"They can try, and maybe even succeed in appointing a fully magical guardian, but there would be no grounds for removal from your custody," she clarifies a bit more patiently, likely sensing his impatience, "for the same reason the Ministry cannot simply remove muggleborns from their homes solely based on their parents' lack of magic."

"I see," Michael hums, considering it, "I won't do anything Harry doesn't agree to, but I wouldn't be opposed to a more thorough explanation of how this ritual might be performed."

"Don't wait too long to consider it," Chang warns somberly, "you never know when you might run out of time."

Me a few chapters ago: oh we'll be seeing more of Andy!
Andromeda: makes one (1) tiny mistake
Michael: no we won't

They run the show, I can't even argue XD

Also, everyone who guessed about the ritual had really good guesses! One or two even came close to the actual reason, so that was interesting to see. As always, I love to read your thoughts! (not literally, I'm not a legilimens)