DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JKR. The story and all new characters, new character development, new developments are my intellectual property.
A/n This is not beta, my fault, but hopefully the next will be. This is Thanksgiving weekend, so it was either as it is, or waiting until next week.
Harry's Fears
Harry looked at the lady calling him.
Harry remembered his new mommy and daddy telling him no to go to anyone. But this lady wasn't anyone; this lady was safe and had helped him before, besides he knew she was good. The lady used to see him in the bad place before.
"I haf to talk from here. I'm not allowed to go to strangers." Harry slowly shook his head.
The truth was that it wasn't clear to him as to what he should – or not should be doing – in regards to the nice lady standing in front of him.
"That's okay. You can sit there and we'll talk just like this." She nodded her head approvingly.
To Harry, the lady didn't sound mad; she seemed to approve his staying behind and doing as he'd been taught.
"Do you want Mrs. Granger to be your real Mommy?" The lady sounded sad.
"I aks and she said, 'yes'. I had a real mommy, but she got dead." Harry's sadness was measured against what his life was like before and what his life was like now.
"But now I've a real daddy and a real mommy, a sister, and two cousins, and a good friend. Ah, I have lots of grandparents " his eyes shone with happiness.
"I am sure your other parents, the ones that died, will be glad to know you are loved and safe. Dear Harry, I am very sure that they will be happy. Parents like for the children to be well," she told him reassuringly.
He was glad that she wasn't angry with him.
Harry knew the pretty lady was his mommy, but she wasn't around anymore and was happy for him, which gladdened him in turn.
"Sweetheart, you must remember this." She looked at him earnestly. "Find your mommy right away, or any grownup, and repeat what I am going to tell you."
Harry nodded. He made sure to pay close attention to what the lovely lady was telling him. He wished that Mimi were there with him. She'd make sure he wouldn't forget anything.
"The blood wards can only really work if the people, the ones who take care of you, do it well. And yes, Petunia is your family, but for that matter, you are a distant cousin of the Malfoys and the Blacks. If the Grangers love you, Harry, then you should be with them. The wards will best work for them."
Harry scrunched up his face, concentrating really hard on her words. There were a lot of words to remember.
The lady caught the look of someone behind Harry, and decided to make him repeat after her, she repeated the first words again, and he repeated after her. Someone behind was taking note, she hoped.
"Harry you must remember this, because it very important. A box is hidden the entrance of the Dursley's home, underneath the third step of the front porch." She spoke slowly.
"It has the clothes I wore that day. You need to make sure someone retrieves that box. Harry, can you remember that? Get the box underneath the porch at the Dursley's? Say it again, please sweetheart."
At the mention of the word 'Dursley,' Harry froze in fear. His chest was loud and his tummy felt sick. The lady noticed and was angry, but somehow he knew she wasn't angry with him. He didn't repeat anything; he was trembling.
"You won't go back to the Dursley's, not ever." Her certainty soothed him, her intensity didn't fade. "Tell your parents that You-Know-Who is looking for you. You must never forget that he wants you and the ones he saw with you."
Her tone softened. Harry could feel love, the kind of love he felt from Mommy and Daddy Granger flow towards him.
The lady's smile, the one she always seemed to have just for him, wobbled a bit. "I must go now, Harry. I love you. I might not be able to see you again, but know that I'll always, always, love you. Be careful, my love. Do as I said and remember everything I've told you."
Harry waited until the lady faded away before he turned and started running. Dobby chased after him; Harry was calling for his new Mommy and Daddy with every step he took. He sounded frantic.
Father and son.
Grant shook with the impact of Harry colliding with his legs. He picked up the boy whose whole body shook.
Grant peered down at Dobby, hoping the elf would have some explanation for Harry's emotionally distraught state.
It was all Dobby could do, he opened his long, spidery hands and mimed that he had no idea what had set-off the little boy to such an extent.
He later would repeat the words that he had heard the ghost telling Harry. But for now, Grant motioned the elf to leave him with Harry.
Harry was his son, as much as Hermione was his child. He didn't question his love for the young boy, it just was.
He was of the belief that you never received more than you could handle, and he had been given a son to love and to be raised by caring parents.
Seeing Harry's state, he knew that as a parent he first had to make sure that Harry felt safe enough to begin to tell him what was wrong. He patted the little boy's back and murmured soothing, nonsensical sounds into the boy's hair.
Grant didn't like how cold and frail the boy felt in his arms.
It was a long moment before Harry responded to the love and care that radiated off Grant. Before he could ask Harry why he was so upset, the boy spoke. His words were halting and terror-filled, as tremors ran through his lithe body.
"I don't wanna go to the Dursley's. They're very mean. They'll lock me up and hurt me." Were the first words out of his mouth, and he broke down. He was crying loud sobs, holding on to his daddy's chest.
Once again Grant felt the burning fury towards the people who mentally and physically abused and tortured such a sweet child as Harry.
It made it hard for him to think rationally. It was as if everything had lost its natural color and had a tinge of red. He knew of his anger, it was hard to control; it had, however, it made him a good operator. Not the anger, the control. Peter his brother was the same, they had to control their anger, quite often.
Harry needed him to be in check so that's what he'd be: in charge of his emotions. Grant was far from naive; he knew that what had happened to Harry, the abuse the boy suffered, was a common occurrence.
Grant privately seethed over what had happened to his son. What was wrong with people, Rose, the Dursley, the crazy bearded wizard, and who knew who else? Why couldn't they pick on the ones their size!
"Son, trust me that it will never happen – ever again." He pulled his head away from Harry's so that the little boy could see the truth that Grant spoke, and the absolute conviction that his words carried.
"You now have a big family. In a few days, we will have the formal adoption papers. It means you will be our son, Mimi will be your sister, and nobody will ever be able to take you away from any of us ever, ever, again."
Grant held him tight, infusing his love into his precious new son. His father had never skimped in the physical affection side and neither had his mother.
His father said life was too short; the war had done that to him. Some had withdrawn inside, but it had made the reserved Englishman, demonstrative and loving. So many of the refugees needed affection, a loving hand, a hug, an embrace and Paul Granger had learned, and later taught his children.
"Can I be Arry Podder-Granger?" Harry asked, the memory of the lady who sometimes appeared to him prompting his question.
"If you want, but I think your parents would had liked your name to remain as it is. Let's say Harry Granger Potter? Or perhaps Harry James Granger Potter, do you like that?"
As much as Grant would love for Harry to carry the surname of Granger, he had to be sensitive to Harry's heritage as well.
Sirius had explained to him that Harry was the last of the Potters. It would, it could, be important for Harry to name his children Potter.
Grant fished out his handkerchief and gently pressed it to Harry's eyes and cheeks. The boy's face was flushed with the outflow of his emotional distress, but the terrified look he had until a moment ago, was no longer there.
Grant's decree had chased it away. Grant could only pray that he'd never see his son so distraught again. As only a father or mother could, he then pressed the handkerchief to Harry's nose in an unspoken command to 'blow', which the child did. Harry grinned, now calmer.
Harry wasn't sure. "I'll ask Dwaco, Mimi and Frankie, okay? I'll also ask Uncle Sirius, and maybe Uncle Remy?" He preferred Granger so the Dursleys wouldn't be able to find him. Like in the telly, they wouldn't look for Harry Granger. Grant's idea wasn't too smart, maybe he didn't watch the telly.
Grant settled Harry against his hip and together made for their rooms.
Grant knew when to quit, for now, "So what did you want to tell me?" Grant sat the slender boy on his lap and caressed his hair to sooth him down.
Harry took at a deep breath, leaned against his daddy's chest, and played with Grant's hand. He wanted to grow tall and strong like his father. Uncle Sirius told him that he would.
Harry told him about the Lady. Grant paid attention; he had seen the silvery figure when they didn't know Harry yet.
Nothing surprised him anymore. In less than a month, his life turned upside down. He felt the worse for his patients, but his father had helped to find a solution.
After Harry was finished, Grant's forehead was creased with worry. He knew who Harry had referred to, when he said, 'You-Know-Who.' Poor his little son, he wouldn't let more happen, or allow anyone to hurt Harry again.
"Son, I will go with Uncle Sirius to get the box from there," He didn't want to say his relatives' names, the name alone made Harry pale and upset.
"We will get it. Now let's go and find everyone, and you think about your name. You can always change it later, all right? I love you son, remember that. I protect my children with my life. Don't be afraid."
Harry jumped on Grant and hugged him tight. "I know. I love you and Mimi, and Mommy and everyone. I'm very lucky." His breathing was regular, and he looked positively happy, which filled Grant with love and affection.
Grant's voice was weak with emotion, he had something stuck in his throat, and his voice wouldn't come out. He was very lucky, he had always wanted a son, and he had one now.
Grant Granger was indeed a very lucky man; he had a wife, a daughter and a son, and a brother and ally in Lucius. Magical abilities also restored to him.
With so many blessings, the future, albeit unknown and certainly mined with pain and challenge, would be nothing short of loving and triumphant.
When he later met with the friends from his secret group, he would ask for help to end Rose's persecution. He really was considering his right to treat her with extreme prejudice and to kill her.
Looking at his boy afraid and upset, made his stomach churn. Nobody was going to hurt his children, and this little one had enough grief for a lifetime.
Grant was soon leaving with Sirius and needed to get ready. Grant was still in his robe and needed to shower for what appeared to be another long day. With that thought, he snuggled little Harry against his chest once more. He had a few more minutes to hold him tight. Harry sighed content.
Dark Regrets and New hopes
At Grangers Manor, the Yorkshire.
Hermione, Harry, Draco, Frankie, and Evie were playing and Grandmother (Oma) Maggie was watching them over.
Their parents were all out and the elves were elsewhere, maintaining the household. The door to the room was locked and as such, deemed that all was safe. The seven dogs were all sleeping by the fire.
The children were looking at old albums and a new one with pictures of the last couple of days. To her older eyes, the children were fine.
They carried a basket with fruit and other snacks around with them. The sense of security and wellbeing after successive stressful days, combined with the warmth of the room were conducive to a great nap, and she gave into the drowsiness taking a hold of her.
She missed Frankie's one-sided conversation…
Frankie stood in the middle of the room and looking at nothing but an empty spot, he exclaimed, "Hello sir, how are you?" He sounded cheerful.
Harry and Draco couldn't see anyone. Evie giggled and ran to the middle of the room, right where Frankie's eyes were fixed upon, and one minute she was there and the next, she was gone; she'd disappeared into thin air.
Harry's and Draco's eyes were riveted on the spot, and their face expressed amazement, thus they started walking to the apparently portal to somewhere.
You would have thought they would be scared, or that Harry remembered the earlier conversations and warnings. Frankie wasn't scared at all, neither was Harry, further appealing to their sense of adventure.
Besides, the dogs were still snoring by the fire, thus there wasn't any danger, or that was their young minds' assessment.
It was not even five seconds later, the curly hair toddler re-appeared, flushed and giggling.
Hermione was equally enthralled; her light brown and gold curls moved around her head from the excitement. Thus, she walked towards whatever it was that caused Evie to vanish and carefully went around the space.
She was puzzled. "Come here Traco, and Arry you hold my hand. Frankie, dear, you hold their hand, and Evie holds on to Traco."
Hermione showed them what to do, but first she ran back and picked up the basket with their snacks and other things as well. "For a picnic," she explained.
"See there, the door is kinda smallish."
"Don't see it," Draco answered. Harry nodded in agreement.
Hermione wasn't surprised. She had already told her parents many things, and they thought she was imagining.
They were all barefooted. Before they went anywhere, she made sure in her very bossy way this wasn't the case, "We need to put on house shoes."
"Hmm," she said once they all wore shoes,"Hold'n," and off they went.
But right before they stepped in, Harry pulled back and caused them to stop.
"Mimi, Daddy said—," Harry began. Never mind, if anything happened, it wouldn't be his fault. He would tell his daddy that it was Mimi's fault.
This moment marked a significant event in their life as siblings, the first day of Harry 's career as Mimi's snitch, the Tattle-Teller had been born.
This persona would be around for a long while, for years, and would be a major cause for rifts between them.
It would last until the late teens, and although, later on, it would not be as bad, but it never would be over. It was fear, fear that something could happen to her, and he would be blamed.
He could see it, everyone, namely, Mommy, Daddy, Draco, Uncle Sirius, just everyone, would stop loving him. And it was back to the Dursley, no not for him. That much was crystal clear to him.
Alas, they all ignored him, so Draco and Harry just saw the room changing and going through a lighted hole.
Nothing short of extraordinaire-
Gellert Grindenwald nearly had a stroke when he saw five young children step through the wall of the viewing room. He had seen a flash of gold color and thought he was having visions, and now this.
The flash of color was the little blond with the curly hair. Angels, the angels in the old churches...but angels in house slippers, house coats, and colorful jumpers? Nah, he could not be imagining this.
A/n at this point, those who read the previous version will start to notice the changes.