Part 4

A/N The first part of this next chapter came to me in early summer, and it's not major plot, but it fit at the time I wrote it. If it's not to your taste, dear reader, you can scroll and scroll and I won't even know. Now, we're finishing up the time on the Alley. Last part before the school year begins. Also, I have 2 more chapters completely written and edited (as much as I ever edit). I have probably 5 more chapters that are written, but they aren't polished, and they aren't contiguous. Just a warning for future weeks.

~~ scene ~~

The next morning dawned bright and dreary. The sky was blue once the mist burned off, the sun was out, and the dementors were on the prowl.

It was Friday, his last Friday before school started, and Harry was looking forward to seeing how Neville was.

When he entered Gringott's lobby at 10:30, he saw the dreaded vulture hat being escorted, with his friend (who seemed a bit taller) to the account manager area. Mr. Tom had given him a little of a notice-me-not charm, so people wouldn't bother him unless he bothered them, first. Harry sat on a bench, pulled out a book from his satchel, and waited calmly. His bag was ready for school and roomy enough to carry any last-minute purchases.

He'd gotten through a few chapters of The Three Musketeers when he heard footsteps. He sprung up, putting his book away, and walked to the pair with a grin.

"Harry? I…is that you?"

"Hey Neville! Mrs. Longbottom," he bowed to Neville's gran. "Thanks for inviting me out today!"

"You look really different, Harry. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, well," Harry prevaricated, "I had a good growth spurt." Neville's eyes narrowed, but he just nodded. "You need to order uniforms and get your books? Anything else?"

"We have to drop off some supplies to one of the shops we provide for. I do not believe Neville is at all prepared to go back to school. Did you even write the list I told you to write, boy?" the old woman demanded with a pinched look.

"Yes, Gran," Neville answered, handing the lady a parchment.

"Hmmph," she sniffed. "To Malkins, then. It is logical to order the clothing first."

Harry was pretty sure he didn't like Mrs. Longbottom. He figured she and Petunia would have got on like a house on fire. Harry and Neville followed a few paces behind the battleaxe while they spoke of upcoming classes.

"I'm taking care, divination, and runes," Neville stated. "It's heavy load, but I think I can manage."

"I see no reason for you to challenge yourself with runes. You shall surely fail, as you barely have the magic for a wand, let alone charging runes. Waste of tuition." Mrs. Longbottom complained as they turned into the clothing maker.

"Hullo there, Harry. Brought a friend?" the shop assistant had helped Harry fill in his wardrobe when he'd admitted his bad guardians had left him with almost nothing. She'd even gone into the muggle world with him twice to help there. She was kind, practical, and had a good eye. He'd let her see his real face as he wanted the clothes to look right, and he trusted her.

"Hullo, Miss Cynthia. This is Neville. He outgrew his school uniforms."

"Even with the growth charms? What are you eating, young man?!" the assistant joked, but Mrs. Longbottom had no time for chit chat, apparently.

"He needs the required Hogwarts uniforms, but not the cloak. Three sets. Additionally, he needs two sets of casual robes and one formal robe that should fit for yule festivities." Mrs. Longbottom went on to begin to dictate pattern and color for all robes while another assistant (Harry didn't know this one) took Neville (and Harry) to the back to get Neville's measurements.

Harry did his best to take Neville's mind off his rude gran.

"I changed my electives. Dropped divination for runes and arithmancy. We'll have care and runes together."

"Why'd you switch? Ron's going to pitch a fit."

Harry shrugged. "I found out that not many jobs use divination, but a lot of jobs use runes or arithmancy. Divination seemed like a waste, I think."

"Unless you have the gift," the assistant argued, then looked surprised he hadn't kept his thoughts to himself.

Neville agreed with a nod. "M..my mum had the sight. The gift runs in her family – Pandeva, from Bulgaria. You ever read about that squib, Baba Vanga? She's a famous clairvoyant, even in the muggle world. She's my third cousin. I don't see them all that much, but most of that side of my family have some sort of gift. I… dream…" Neville broke off with a whisper, his eyes to the floor. It was almost as if he expected Harry to call him a liar, or make fun of his gift.

"Cool!" Harry enthused. He hadn't heard of Baba Vanga, but now he'd look into it. "I found out that my mum and my grandad were both really good at potions, so I've been reading and practicing this summer. I know Snape will never grade fair, but I aim to get an O on my OWL. Show that tosser."

"Good thing Hermione isn't here. She'd give you the what for with that language."

Harry laughed. "She's a mate, though. You know what she did, with Snape, first year?"

The assistant left the room and Neville started to rebutton his cloak. "What did she do?"

Harry looked around then leaned in and whispered, "set him on fire."

"WHAT? Hermione?!" Neville's eyes were wide with shock and awe.

"Shhh… yeah. Remember, my broom was all wonky that first quidditch match? Ended up Quirrell was cursing it. But Snape was counter-cursing, trying to keep me on the broom. Hermione only saw Snape, obviously incanting in my general direction, so to distract him, she set him on fire. Snape knocked over Quirrell in his efforts at trying not to be a flambé, and Bob's your uncle."

"She has hidden depths." Neville was astounded as the two boys walked back out to where his gran was waiting, impatiently.

"She really does."

"Three hours, ma'am." Cynthia was explaining to Mrs. Longbottom "We're terribly sorry. We're a bit backed up and this is a big order."

Augusta Longbottom raised an eyebrow as she saw another child go back to get measured. "Three hours." She agreed and swooped out. The boys followed in her wake.

They went to Fluorish and Blotts next, where Neville quickly amassed his course books. Harry helped him with the monster book, explaining what Hagrid had said. "I wonder who the professor will be?" Neville pondered. "I heard that Kettleburn retired."

"They must be friends with Hagrid, as he knew about the book," Harry said.

"I hope they're nice." Neville had enough of teachers who weren't. Snape was rude enough for all of them put together.

At the apothecary, Harry helped Neville with the non-plant ingredients, while Neville explained some of the intricacies of the herbs he wasn't purchasing. "I grow most of the plant-based ingredients, and we've had a good crop this year. Enough to supply the buyers and fill my stores for all the mistakes I make in class."

Across from Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary (and its – according to Mrs. Longbottom, seriously inferior competitor, Slug & Jiggers) was APL Purveyor of Personal Goods. The Longbottoms and Harry walked in and the clerk bowed.

"Madame Longbottom. Welcome. Do you wish to see the books today?"

"Yes, Whimbly. I also have the requested delivery." Mrs. Longbottom called an elf who brought a large trunk. "Neville, Mr. Potter. Sit." She pointed to a small lounging couch in the sales area.

"APL is your company?"

Neville smiled a small, secret smile. "APL. Alice Pandeva Longbottom. She was friends with your mum, you know. Both were good at potions. Your granddad gave Mum the startup funds for this shop and an exclusive contract to sell Sleekeezy. She trained elves to make the products we don't distribute. I do some of that brewing – its not really potions."

"I heard my grandad formulated Sleekeezy. Too bad it doesn't work on Potter hair," Harry pointed to the birds' nest on top of his head and laughed. "But this store is excellent. I bought a whole bunch of soaps and stuff. I liked the forest moss shampoo, and the rosemary mint bar soap. Oh, and the sandalwood candles. And the sage and citrus candles. Your candles burn so much cleaner than the ones from the mercantile. I plan on using them in the dorm."

Neville nodded. "If anything can combat the smell of Seamus's socks, it's these candles." The boys shared a grin and giggle.

They spoke quietly of other things – books they read, and things they'd done over the holidays – before Mrs. Longbottom rose from the desk. "You weren't too much of a bother, then." She looked at Neville. "Come. I suppose we should eat lunch."

They went to Tilly's café, which was an elf-run café on the alley. Mrs. Longbottom ordered for the three of them, not even allowing the boys to look at the menu.

When a vial appeared in front of Harry, and he drank it with only a mild shudder, Mrs. Longbottom raised an eyebrow in question. "And what was that?"

"Nutrient potion, ma'am. I went to a healer when I first got to the alley. They gave me some jabs Madame Pomphrey had missed and said I was a bit underweight. I guess muggles don't really know what they're supposed to feed magicals, and they almost never feed us enough."

"Hmmph." The woman sniffed again, and Harry wondered if she had a cold.

Neville, though, looked at Harry with knowing eyes, but didn't say a word.

Why had Harry chosen the thief over Neville as a best mate? Well, he was correcting that now.

As they ate, and Mrs. Longbottom questioned Harry on his course work at Hogwarts, ignoring Neville, Harry felt the tension knot his stomach. He didn't like eating with mean adults. But if he didn't eat, Dobby would tell on him.

Besides, indigestion was great practice for Hogwarts meals, with all the arseholes and the thief.

When they had finished, and Augusta was finished nagging Neville over how he'd eaten one dish too fast and another not quickly enough, Harry asked, "Mrs. Longbottom, do you mind if we stop at Ollivander's? I got in a bit of a spot at the end of term, and needed to get my wand fixed. He told me to pick it up today."

"That man is a menace." Augusta stated shortly. It was the first thing she'd said that Harry actually agreed with. "But I suppose you should do as he says. Neville, you will touch nothing."

Harry wasn't sure if he should offer to pay for lunch. Mrs. Longbottom seemed a skinflint, but she might be insulted if he tried to pay. She took the bill without even looking at him, so he figured that question answered itself.

He'd have to send some teas from Fortnum & Mason or something as a thank you gift. That would suffice. And he'd never eat with the harridan again, if he could help it. She made Molly Weasley look like a wallflower.

They made their way to the wand store, noting that there was a bit of a line. The folks in front of Harry complained that the store had been closed all of the previous afternoon, and they shouldn't have had to make two trips for one wand.

Harry just looked at the ceiling, humming to himself.

When it was finally their turn, Ollivander turned to Neville.

"Mr. Neville Longbottom. Two years late. Let us get your wand."

"There is no need. Neville has his father's wand, though he's not magical enough to do it credit." Augusta began with force and acid in her tone. But she had met her match. Ollivander's vacant look disappeared, and he pinned the harpy with a look of knowing impatience.

"That is a load of nonsense. Mr. Franklin Longbottom's wand is bonded to Mr. Frankin Longbottom. He still lives. You cripple this child, making him use a wand bonded to another. I've already reported you to WCS for not providing him with his first wand. Did they not contact you?"

She sniffed, but her posture fell a bit. Harry supposed he could go to Mr. Steppenage if she didn't fix this problem right now. "Proceed," she allowed with a short nod.

Harry would watch, though. And he might just talk to Mr. Steppenage anyway.

"Hmm. Difficult. Channels knotted from an improper focus…" Ollivander murmured and glared at Mrs. Longbottom again. He measured twice as much as he had with Harry and stared, turning his head this way and that.

Finally, he handed Neville a warm, reddish wand. "Cherry wood with unicorn." The wand tip glowed and red, purple, and yellow sparks shot a fountain in all directions. Harry was impressed, but more so by the look of abject astonishment on Augusta Longbottom's face. Take that, you shrew, he thought.

"Hmm, a very difficult wand to control but submits to you readily. You are quite a strong wizard, Mr. Longbottom. We can expect great things from you. Would you like a care kit with that?"

"What's a care kit?" Harry asked Neville. Ollivander hadn't offered him that when he'd bought his wand.

"The more you polish your wand, the better your connection with it, Mr. Potter." Ollivander had heard the question and answered Harry directly.

"Can I get one of those, too?"

"Certainly." Ollivander tipped his head and furrowed his brow. "Why didn't I sell you one two years ago? A mystery. Well. We shall correct that now."

He rang up Neville and Mrs. Longbotom, whose pinched mouth showed her displeasure at paying for the necessities. Harry wondered if they were poor, though Mrs. Longbottom seemed to be dressed well and have pricey jewelry.

He wondered if the Longbottom money was hers, really, or if she was just Neville's guardian. The soap shop was Neville's mum's. It stood to reason that, at least, would become Neville's. And Neville was born a Longbottom. His gran just married into the family. (Unless they were those purebloods that only married their cousins… he shuddered at the thought.) Harry bet she was pissed that Nev was going to be an adult soon, and wanted to keep him beat down until then.

He really, really didn't like Neville's gran.

"Mr. Potter. Your wand." Harry held it aloft, and a shower of gold and silver erupted. He swore he could hear singing, and it sounded like Fawkes, and his wand felt like it was having a reunion with his magic.

He paid the twelve galleons – the wand was an additional seven, and he picked up a book on wandlore and care, as well as the care kit and three holsters. Thanking the wand maker, he followed the Longbottoms out of the store.

As he reached the pair, he handed Neville one of the holsters with its explanatory pamphlet. "Neville, I got this for you. It's to protect your wand. Happy birthday, a month late."

"I didn't get you anything…" Neville stammered.

"I didn't expect anything. But I know you didn't have a holster. Ollivander yelled at me for keeping it in my pocket."

They went round to Scriveners, where Neville was allowed to purchase two reams of parchment, a pack of goose quills (the cheapest there), and black ink, only. Harry remembered what it was like. When the Longbottom elf came to take Neville's supplies away, Harry made a mental note to ask Dobby to raid the lost and found for Neville, too.

~~ scene ~~

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast with reading of his grandfather's journal, Harry made his way back to the muggle world. He was really excited to use his wand… his new wand? Fixed wand? Souped-up wand? For the first time since … he wasn't going to think about that. But he had some muggle shopping he wanted to do, first.

Stopping first at an upscale store, he purchased a gift set for Mrs. Longbottom, thinking just the price tag would be enough to appease the old harridan. Harry stopped by the Waterstone's to pick up the last of the muggle references he wanted. Between Dr. Dan's medical credentials and the great adventure books he'd read over the summer, Harry decided to catch up with his regular education. Ms. Amanda said that he could register for the courses through St. George's and take any end of year tests there, the following summer.

Over several different trips, he had picked homeschooling guides and textbooks from the bookstore chain on muggle side, as well as books needed for references – a dictionary, a thesaurus, a quotation book, a student encyclopedia, and several other general reference books. He bought the books on separate trips, but was really grateful for his feather-light charm on his bag!

By the time the last weekend of the summer rolled around, Harry's money bag (that he had filled with a great deal of coins) was considerably lighter, but for the first time, he actually felt prepared to go to school. He had clothes for Scotland, a watch that worked in the magical world, text books and reference books and supplies and things to pass time… everything he knew he needed, not just what some clueless or controlling adult pushed him into buying.

After stopping for a tasty Indian lunch (with a discreet potion chaser), Harry made his way back to the HC. When he got to the clinic, with some Chelsea buns, he was giddy with excitement. He was going to do magic again! Greeting everyone as he went through, he made his way back to the break room with the smell of cinnamon in his wake.

"Hey, Harry. What do you have there?" Crispin was brewing tea, looking over his options for biscuits, when Harry came in with the box smelling gloriously.

"Chelsea buns. And my wand!" Harry added, his excitement bubbling through. Fezziwig smiled at him.

"We are really going to miss you, and not just your pastries and other prezzies. I never thought to take an apprentice in my lab. If you decide you want to work toward a mastery, though, you're getting the skills for it. Just don't let that Snape tosser ruin you, got it?"

"Yes, Sir!" Harry acknowledged with a salute, and the potions master shook his head and rolled his eyes, pouring two cups of tea and fixing Harry's as the boy liked. Harry had just eaten, and told his friend that, but did drink his tea as Fezziwig munched on the pastry and told Harry of some of the more interesting applications of the potions Harry had been helping Fezziwig make.

"...and with you doing the incantation in parsel to enhance the potions? Well, I think we have a real shot of fixing some of the most stubborn and painful reminders of the Riddle uprising. We might be able to cull away at ward 49!" Crispin nodded as he cut bit last piece off his pastry.

Harry stirred his tea, in thought. "What's ward 49?"

Crispin sipped, then answered. "It's a ward at Mungo's – some call it the Janus Thickey ward. It's for patients with long-term issues that aren't curable. Your Lockhart fellow is there, after his rebounded obliviate."

Harry scrunched his nose, playing with his spoon. "Is it wrong I don't want to help him?"

Crispin chuckled. "Me, neither. But it's not our call. We help who we can, no matter what they've done. If he were healed, with what they've found of his actions, he'd probably head straight to Azkaban. But there are innocents there. The Longbottoms, for instance."

"Longbottoms? Related to Neville?" Harry's brow was furrowed.

"Neville a sprog like you?" At Harry's nod, Crispin exhaled sharply. "His parents, I believe. They were tortured until they got lost in their own minds."

Harry couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The anger just welled up. Then, he forced himself to think, to calm. Master Fezziwig didn't do anything wrong. He shouldn't be angry here.

Unbeknownst to Harry, his hair had moved as though blown by a wind, and his eyes had become eerily back-lit in his anger. Crispin held his own breath as he watched the lad pull in his anger, calm himself.

This was a warlock, at least, if not a mage. And he'd be right scary if he got seriously angry. Someone should make sure that he had help with his past, because this level of power next to the torture he'd endured?

He'd make Riddle look like a fairy-light of a dark lord.

"I can talk to Dr. Zhou. We'll see if we can research what was done to the pair and what the current treatment is."

"If there's anything I can do, if you need more venom or whatever, just tell me. I want to help if I can."

"They're not our patients, Harry. And knowing the old families – I think that vulture-wearing woman was a Crouch – we wouldn't be invited to work on the case."

"Neville's a mate. He'll be age of majority with me, and he'll want any help we can give. Bet on it."

Fezziwig wouldn't bet against the kid. Not with that set to his jaw.

"Well, in the mean time," Crispin pulled out his wand and cleaned up the tea. One of the other medi-wizards had come in and thanking Harry for the treats. "Let's get to brewing!"

Harry followed Crispin to the lab, and they both started at work. When the potion was finished, Harry pulled out his wand. He'd memorized the spell from the book Crispin had given him, and he centered himself.

"…by my magic potion enhance" he finished the spell, while all Fezziwig noticed was eerie hissing and glowing of Harry's wand tip and eyes.

The potion, normally a pearlescent white, now glowed with a soft, spring green. Incanting a strength check, Fezziwig noted the vial registered as being over 250x more potent than the original.

"Great Mordred," he breathed.

"Did I do it wrong?" Harry worried. Crispin shook his head while staring at the concoction.

"A little bird – who was feasting on cinnamon rolls – told me that a certain young wizard was in the clinic." Dan Zhou walked into the room, smiling at the two brewers. "Hello, Harry!"

"Hullo, Dr. Dan! I did the parsel spell on the goop Master Fezziwig made."

The insult woke Crispin from his stupor. "That is not goop. That is scar removal ointment. Or it was. I think it might even remove curse scars now…" He looked at his employer and waved his hand at the vial, indicating that the doctor should run some tests.

Dan agreed. He'd never seen glowing scar removal ointment before, or not glowing to this degree. Usually the parsel made it brighter...

His diagnostics concurred – this scar removal ointment was well and above anything he'd seen in the Kingdom. He'd seen some parsel-enhanced potions before, as he'd been educated in China for some years. But he'd never seen this level of concentration before.

It might just heal curse scars.

"This is similar to what the potions in China look like. Of course, parslemouth are quite common there, and encouraged to practice. But, yes, I think our Harry is quite a bit more talented than the average wizard."

Harry blushed. "If it helps people, then that's good, right?"

Smiling down at the boy, Dan nodded. "All we strive to do is aid people. That is our mission, and what makes life worth living."

Harry swallowed some emotion he didn't quite understand and let go of breath he didn't realize he was holding. A new path was being forged in his spirit. He would help – he had always wanted to help – but he'd not do it blindly anymore. Just a bit more work, a bit more research made his help so much better.

It had been a small, niggling idea all summer, since he'd started to get better. Since he'd started meeting the people in the clinic. But now, it was more than just a possibility.

He was going to be a healer, and he hoped he'd be almost as good as Dr. Dan. That was a goal worth working toward.

On Sunday, Harry walked into a small going away party at HC. The staff of the clinic had put together and bought him an apprentice potion maker's kit and decorated a card, all writing personal messages wishing him a good year at school. They would miss their semi-resident (and his gifts of pastries). He'd been a rare case where they got to see the full outcome of all their hard work. Most people left when they were on the mend. They'd seen this child all the way through, and it was an encouragement to all of them.

A little forlorn at the loss of his time at the HC, Harry made his way back to the Cauldron. In his room, Harry petted Hedwig a while before looking at the new potions kit he had. Harry added all of the ingredients he'd purchased from the apothecary and had Dobby pop the used potions kit back to Hogwarts lost and found.

He finished up the last of his assignments that afternoon and started outlining what he'd need to do to work on his new goal of being a healer. He'd have tomorrow with Hermione then be off to Hogwarts on Tuesday.

He really wasn't looking forward to it.

Considering that he'd only a few more days at the Leaky, he'd decided to eat in the dining room that evening. It sounded seriously busy, and he could pass the time with great deal of people watching. As he drew close to the pub area, he noticed the amazing amount of noise. Opening the door to the dining room, he saw a sea of red. The Weasleys were all there, at a large table. He figured they were probably there for him, since it was pretty obvious the way Molly Weasley was glancing here and there, checking all the other tables not her own, that they were looking for someone. He stepped back into the family area, removed his glamour, and came back into the dining room.

"Harry! There you are, young man! We've been looking for you all afternoon." The matron bustled over to him, enveloping him in a hug, but not commenting at all on his improved health.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley." Harry ignored the space made next to the thief and sat next to Arthur instead. It meant watching his meal like a hawk, since the twins were across from him, but better than being next to the thief. "I was in my room, finishing up the last of my summer assignments and doing some reading ahead. I understand you went to Egypt? How was your trip?"

"The pyramids and sphinx were," Fred began

"quite monumental!" George finished, and the double grin at the terrible joke was the icing on the verbal cake.

Harry rolled his eyes. "How many times are you going to milk that pun?"

"You're the first and the last, Harrikins."

"Our son Bill is a curse breaker in monument valley. When we won the draw, we thought it a good learning opportunity for the children." Arthur explained as he took a roll, buttered it, and passed the basket to Harry.

"The pharaohs and priests had some wicked magic and curses." George said as the plate of chicken came to him.

Fred put a thigh on each of their plates before passing the platter to his father. "We tried to lock Percy in a tomb but he caught on to us."

"I would think you'd want to spend the last days of summer at the Burrow, resting up for the school year?" Harry asked as he took a drumstick.

"Well, dear," Molly answered as she put another drumstick on his plate. She obviously still thought he needed feeding up. "We need to get the children's supplies. We thought it just as easy to stay tonight and tomorrow night and make sure that was all done. If you give me your list, I'll make sure you have all your things."

"I already have everything, Mrs. Weasley. Minister Fudge had me move here almost three weeks ago. I'm more prepared for Hogwarts than I've ever been."

"And I bet you found some interesting things, too, eh?" Arthur nudged Harry then gave him the peas. "When we stayed in Cairo, the boys and I found any number of interesting shops and restaurants."

"Yeah. The alley is pretty neat. So you all are staying here tonight and tomorrow?" Harry wondered how they could afford it. The drawing must have had a huge payout. He couldn't know that Dumbledore has asked them, now that they'd gotten back from Egypt, to watch out for Harry, since Fudge had required the boy to stay on Diagon Alley. And Dumbledore was footing the bill.

"Yes. Of course, Ron will stay in your room. You don't have to be alone anymore." Molly stated with finality.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry shook his head, not sorry at all. "My room is tiny. It's just big enough for the stuff that's in it."

"Nonsense." Molly ignored Harry and called over the serving wench. "Miss, my family is staying here at the cauldron,"

"Yes, mum, Wayne took yer luggage up, already."

"Yes, yes. We need to add a bed to Harry's room. For my youngest son."

"Sorry, missus," Doris, who was one of those in the know of who Harry was, shook her head. "Harry's room is in the family wing, and Tom'll not have anyone else back there. Asides," she added, winking at Harry, "it's too small. No other bed would fit. You and your daughter are in the connecting family suite. Your twins are in room 5. Your oldest and youngest sons are in room seven, which is a double."

"Hmm, that won't do. We'll move Harry up to room seven, and Percy can have Harry's room." Molly ignored that Harry's room was in Tom's family's wing, and invited her own son to stay there.

Harry had enough. He wasn't imposing more on Mr. Tom than necessary. "Percy shouldn't have to sleep in tiny room. It really is tiny, and Mr. Tom has family stuff stored in it. I'm used to it. Besides, I don't need to move for two nights. I'll see Ron all year in the dorms, after all."

At that moment, Ginny shouted as the twins let a loosey goosey prank on her. She knocked over the pumpkin juice all over the table. The maniacal laughter from the twins and Molly's fussing over the mess was enough cover for Harry to escape the room. He asked Dobby to get his dinner in his room, sighing that he'd lost one of his last opportunities for company that didn't have Weasleys in it.

Molly, looking around, noticed that Harry ducked out through a side door. She got up, bustling with frustration at the boy. How was she supposed to look after him if he wasn't in with her children? She headed to the exit where Tom blocked her.

"Help ya, missus?" he asked.

"My child just went back there."

"Harry just went back there. He's not yer child, missus."

"No, but Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to look after him."

"School doesn't start until Tuesday, missus. And WCS has me watching for Harry. This is my family's quarters, and forgive me, but you're not keyed in. You'll have to wait until he comes out again."

"This is unacceptable!" Molly blustered with a voice that cowed all men.

Except Tom. The pub owner was obviously made of sterner stuff than Arthur Weasley (or had worked with belligerent drunks enough that a squawking female was nothing to him.)

Tom lost his smile. "That boy is my responsibility, missus. If'n you want to cause a fuss, you can go home. The floo be right there." He pointed to the fire place.

Molly exhaled sharply through her nose. "Fine. I'll speak with him tomorrow." She walked back to a much calmer table, where her family was enjoying their meal.

"Harry was acting weird." Ron muttered. Ginny was still embarrassed that she'd spilled the pumpkin juice, and that was the only time Harry had paid her any mind.

"You're just out of sorts because you have to share a room with the bighead boy," Fred teased.

"But you can stay with us, we can always use a test subject!" George quipped.

"Enough, boys." Arthur commanded quietly. Fred and George calmed immediately. Finishing their dinner much more quietly than they started it, the Weasley family retired to their rooms, tired after so much travel and excited to be on Diagon Alley the next day.

The following morning, Harry was out with the sun, using his glamour necklace, helping the other shopkeepers, and avoiding the Weasleys. He stocked the apothecary for the last time, telling that gentleman he'd be going back to Hogwarts. He thanked both the apothecary and the menagerie owner for the opportunities they'd given him that summer, and then he moved on to the muggle side, hoping to avoid the Weasleys completely. He browsed through a charity shop and a toyshop, picking up and putting down several different items, simply whiling the time away. He loaded up his bag with muggle snacks, thinking that it would be nice to have a Mars bar once in a while, especially as he'd had no one to sign his Hogsmeade permission slip.

Eventually, he made his way back to the Cauldron, where he found Hermione sitting with a huge ginger cat.

He turned off his glamour and smiled. "Hermione!" He greeted, and she jumped up to hug him.

After greeting his bushy-haired friend and her parents, Harry petted and admired the newest member of the Granger household, Hermione's chosen cat called Crookshanks. "What a handsome lad," he praised as he petted the ginger monster.

The cat preened and purred, almost communicating verbally with the boy wizard.

Bemused, Hermione watched her cat bonding with her best friend. "Well, at least you have Crookshanks's approval. He practically scalped Ron earlier."

"Good job," Harry whispered to the kneazle mix. To Hermione, he asked, "What did Ron do to set this guy off?"

"I think it was Scabbers, actually. That rat is finally coming to the end of his life. I mean, assuming the Weasleys haven't been swapping him out, like my parents used to do with Mr. Puffy."

"Mr. Puffy?" Harry asked quizzically, then got back to scratching Crookshanks ears after the cat yowled in demand.

"A series of goldfish." Dr Granger explained drily while his wife chuckled "Whenever one died, we tried to find another that looked just the same, so Hermione wouldn't know her fish had died."

"Of course, I noticed the fish changed, but thought it was one of my 'odd, that?' moments – that's what Mum and Dad used to say whenever I did something wonky."

"When you did magic, dear," her mother corrected fondly.

"How long did Mr. Puffy stick around?" Harry asked.

"A few months. Then we got His Nobs – our Scottie named when Hermione had just learned cribbage and thought His Nobs was a posh kind of name. He's at home, currently, awaiting our attendance. A neighbor serves him when we're away."

"Dad," Hermione groaned in exasperation. "Have you had a good holiday, then? You look great."

Taking his time to answer, Harry continued to pet Crookshanks, taking comfort in the warm mass of fur under his fingers. "It didn't start great but the last few weeks have been brilliant."

"Except for being stalked by a murderer?"

"He's not just a murderer, he's my godfather," Harry snarked.

"What?" Hermione was goggle eyed and Harry grinned. He loved getting one over on his brainy friend.

Harry told the Grangers the story of his parents' wills, and how they cleared Sirius Black from betraying the Potters. Instead, he had tried to avenge them by killing their true Judas. "So, the ministry still thinks he's trying to kill me, because all evidence points against that. The minister demanded that I stay on the alley so I can be protected."

"They're using you as bait!" Outrage filled Hermione's voice.

Harry pointed at her while her parents stared at him, horrified. "Got it in one. But I got to spend almost three weeks on the alley, and I think even you will approve of how I spent my time. My homework is all done, and it's all done well. You can even check on the train if you want. How about your hols?"

Hermione spoke of her summer in France, while her mother explained about her own family there. They chatted companionably for a while, discussing nonsense in between asking about Harry's lack of glasses and new wardrobe. Hermione realized that there had been a major shift in Harry's life, but he didn't want to talk about it. And for once, she let him be.

Eventually, a number of red heads began to trickle into the Cauldron from the Alley. The Weasleys had returned. The twins were picking on their sister; Ginny held her own in the bickering. Percy was speaking to Ron who ignored his older brother. Molly and Arthur had told their children to go ahead, they were going to look more for Harry on the Alley now their shopping was done.

As soon as Ron saw Harry and the Grangers, his ears turned bright red. Glaring at Hermione he shook his head. "I can't believe you bought that stupid cat." Percy excused himself to study and escaped his siblings quickly, going to a table in a quiet-ish corner.

Harry's brow furrowed. "What are you on about? Crookshanks is brilliant. Besides, cats are allowed at Hogwarts. Rats aren't." The feline in question got up from Harry's lap, turned its back to Ron, and walked over to Hermione's dad, seating himself with obvious disdain.

"Ron, tell us about Egypt." Hermione tried to keep the peace, though she was rather put out at Ron's attitude toward her new cat. "Did the twins really try to lock you in a tomb?"

"That was Percy, the git. He's such a stick in the mud."

"We almost got him, too." Fred mused as he sat.

"But he followed his prodigious nose out of danger." Shrugging, George sat on the other side of Ginny, who waved a little at Hermione. Hermione smiled slightly at Ginny, remembering in the back of her head that Ginny-mort had tried to kill her and wondering if she'd ever be able to move past that fact.

The kids all talked almost comfortably after a bit, with Hermione's parents adding questions here and there. Crookshanks sat, patient, still, waiting. Eventually, Ron pulled Scabbers from his pocket and put him on the table. Eventually, Scabbers calmed, having taken his tonic (which was really just a barbiturate) and chewed on a piece of dry cheese that one of the wait staff at the Cauldron produced.

When all seemed to have forgotten the Crookshanks/Scabbers feud, the cat pounced.

It happened in slow motion. Dr. Granger was just a bit too slow and Ron wasn't paying attention, captivated, telling a story about a quidditch match he'd listened to on the wireless. Crookshanks nabbed the rat and started to shake it.

Ron started screaming. Molly and Arthur came in from the magical side at a hurried pace.

And the rat morphed into a man.

The dirty, snivelling man's clothes were terribly worn from age and torn from the cat's vicious attack. The man's arm was revealed to have a dark mark.

One of the other patrons of the cauldron exclaimed "That animagus is a death eater, 'e is!" in shocked breath.

The auror on guard – because Harry Potter was staying there – quickly stunned the rat-man, though the revealed animagus was in a world of hurt. The brilliant tom had done a number on the rat version of the man, and those wounds carried to the human form.

The auror performed an identity charm. "It can't be!"

"Fleetwood, report!" A senior auror came in, alerted by Fleetwood's alarm.

"Auror Fenwick, Ma'am. Illegal animagus uncovered. Was posing as a rat. Has a dark mark. I did an identity scan…"

"Well?"

"Peter Pettigrew. It's Peter Pettigrew."

And he was missing a critical digit.

The name flew through the growing crowd as Pettigrew lay, insensate, on the table. "Looks like Black didn't murder anyone, after all." Dr. Granger stated in a shaky voice what most in the crowd were beginning to realize.

The story that Pettigrew had actually betrayed the Potters had burned through the alley. Sympathy for the murderer – who had really only got justice for the Potters – was high. There were calls for the traitor, Pettigrew, to lose his order of Merlin.

But to think he had faked his own death, framing an heir (now lord) of an ancient and noble house?

Fenwick called for more backup and started to search Pettigrew for contraband. She confiscated two wands off Pettigrew, as well as a portkey and other effects, including a Potter money bag. That, Fleetwood wanted to give to Harry. It was a break in procedure, but Fleetwood figured the kid'd had enough stolen from him. But Fleetwood was enough of a copper to follow procedure.

With egg on their face, the ministry recalled the dementors to Azkaban that afternoon, and the "kiss on sight" order for Black was changed to a request for information on the whereabouts of Sirius Black. It was rather obvious that all charges would have to be reinvestigated and almost certainly dropped.

"Molly?" Arthur looked at his wife with concern. She was waving on her feet, her face pale as death.

"A death eater. In our home. In Percy and Ronnie's rooms! In their beds! A death eater! Arthur! Our boys!" That she was whispering made the absolute shock and horror of the situation even more clear. The secondary aurors had come in to question all in the crowd, but especially the Weasleys.

~~ scene ~~

The train ride to Hogwarts had been strange. First, Lady Longbottom had been actually polite to Harry (Neville indicated that she had been very impressed with the thank you gift Harry had his elf deliver.) Then, only a few Weasleys showed up before the train departed, and Ron was not one of them. Harry and Hermione sat with Neville and explained to him what had happened in the Cauldron the night before.

"Ron and Percy are at Saint Mungo's getting an in-depth scan?" Neville asked. He'd wondered why Ron wasn't staking his claim on Harry's cabin and company.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "It was absolutely horrific, seeing that rat turn into a man. And poor Mrs. Weasley. She tries so hard to protect her kids. To think…"

"Maybe your Potter Drama is done early this year?" Neville asked, half joking, breaking the tension.

"I really, really hope so!"

Chuckling, needing to change the subject, the three teens continued to talk about their summers, all kidding aside, hoping the next year at school had none of the evil the last two had.

~~A/N

The end of the beginning. We're back at Hogwarts next. Classes will start... confrontations may just occur. Thank you to all readers and especially to all commenters. The comments have been weird - I have a hard time getting to them lately. But I'm glad some of you are enjoying this. See you when I see you!