Harry awoke Wednesday morning with a desire to do something, anything, to move ahead on his quest. The only materials he had available in his room were the mirror to Sirius, and the box Petunia gave him, so he decided that after breakfast he’d handle the box. Hermione made a suggestion during breakfast to sort things into piles of photos, letters from Lily, and letters from Dumbledore, then go through each pile individually and take notes. Harry couldn’t come up with a better plan, so he agreed and the foursome headed upstairs to begin their task.

“Aww! Ginny exclaimed at as she held up a moving photograph. “Look, Harry! It’s you as a baby!” Sure enough, the baby in the photo couldn’t have been anyone but Harry, with rumpled black hair and bright green eyes, smiling and repeatedly reaching out for the camera with one pudgy hand. Most of the photos they’d found up until that point had been of James and Lily, with a few of Lily by herself. Some were magical and some Muggle, leaving Harry to wonder who had taken the Muggle photos of his parents.

When they finally finished sorting and placing the letters in chronological order, Harry decided to go through the ones from his mother in case there were any embarrassing details about himself. Hermione and Ron started in on the letters from Dumbledore, promising to pass him any that looked promising.

Dear Pet,

James Potter still will not leave me alone! I swear, every time he asks me out and I say no it’s like a new challenge for him and his friends. I’m convinced that this is all one of their elaborate pranks; why on earth would someone as self-absorbed as James Potter be genuinely interested in me?

Love,

Lils

“Ah, so that’s why she wouldn’t go out with him; she thought he was putting her on.” He muttered to himself.

Ginny giggled and whispered in his ear, “If you hadn’t looked so determined when you kissed me in the common room, I would have thought the same thing.”

“I’d never do that to you,” he scowled back at her but then grinned and placed a kiss on the side of her neck.

After a few more envelopes, he found one that piqued his interest: It was the first addressed to Petunia Dursley rather than Petunia Evans.

Dear Petunia,

I’m very sorry that you felt you couldn’t come to our wedding, but you would have been very welcome. It was hard for me to get married without my only sister there, so soon after Mum and Dad died. You’ve done your best to make it clear to me how you feel about magic and those who practice it, but I can’t believe you let that stand in the way of being there for your only remaining family.

I refuse to stop writing to you despite the fact that James says you’re not worth it.

Your sister,

Lily

Harry marveled that his mother bothered to write to Petunia, nudging Ginny and whispering, “I think I agree with my dad that these letters were a waste of time on Mum’s part.” Ginny nodded assent.

Dear Petunia,

I’m so excited for you, and you’ll never believe what I have to tell you! James and I are expecting our first child in late July or early August! It’s too soon for the Healer (that’s like a Muggle doctor) to tell us whether it’s going to be a girl or a boy, but we’re not sure we want to know ahead of time regardless. Do you know if yours will be a boy or a girl, or do you want to wait for the surprise? I know that Vernon won’t let me visit, but perhaps we could meet for tea a few times during our pregnancies and compare notes the way sisters should.

Love,

Lily

Harry wondered absently whether or not his mother and aunt actually met as he pulled out the next letter.

Petunia,

I know you don’t want to hear from me anymore, not that I really care at this point. However, I felt you should know that your nephew, Harry James Potter, was born on July 31. I hope your Dudley arrived healthy and happy, not that I expect to hear from you.

Lily

“Well, that one was considerably cooler than the one about the wedding,” Harry commented as he pulled the other piece of parchment from the envelope.

It’s a Boy!
Lily and James Potter
are proud to announce the arrival of their son
Harry James Potter
July 31, 1980 at 7:52 a.m.
3.6 kilograms
48 centimetres long

The announcement was adorned with a blue ribbon around the edges, now faded with time. I wonder if I’ll live long enough to have children of my own, he wondered. He raised the card to his forehead as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, willing the tears not to come. He absently noted the feeling of Ginny’s arms surrounding him and pulling him to her chest. After a moment, he couldn’t hold back anymore and found himself sobbing softly into Ginny’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held tight, fearing that if he didn’t have her to anchor him he would drift away on his own grief. In the back of his mind he wondered whether he was crying for Dumbledore, or his parents, or Sirius, or himself.

“Shh. It will be okay, Harry, it will be okay.” Ginny crooned to him as he felt the tears soak into her shirt. After several minutes, he regained his composure and sniffed one last time before lifting his head from her neck. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled embarrassedly at his friends. “I’m sorry, guys; it just all kind of overwhelmed me. I’m turning into a regular hosepipe.”

Ron, surprisingly, spoke first. “Mate, everyone needs to have a good cry now and again. You’re got more to be upset about than most.” Hermione smiled at him and kissed his cheek. Ron smiled back and said, “See? I’ve got more than a teaspoon.”

Harry laughed and kissed Ginny on the forehead. “Thanks, Gin. I guess I needed that.”

“Anytime, Harry, and I mean that.” She looked solemnly into his eyes. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He took her face in his hands and promised, “I won’t,” then turned to Hermione and Ron. “Anything good in the Dumbledore stack?”

“Well,” Hermione began, “most of it is interesting, really. I’ve made some notes on the really important-looking bits, but here are the few that I think are really relevant to you.” She handed him three envelopes.

The first was addressed to Mrs. And Mrs. V. Dursley, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry removed the letter and read:

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

As you know, Mrs. Dursley’s sister Lily Potter and her family were in hiding from a dark wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort. He was, unfortunately, successful in finding them late on the night of October 31 and Lily and James were both killed. You have my greatest sympathies for your loss. Harry, your nephew, fortunately survived.

You are Harry’s only remaining family and I trust that you will want to take him in and care for him in his parents’ absence. He will be far better off raised away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world that will seek to idolize him and watch his every move.

I have enacted certain charms to protect Harry while he is in your care, but just as important to you, these same charms protect you from any interference by dark wizards in your household while Harry can call your house his home, or until he is of age. Otherwise, I fear that you may be in grave danger from those who wish to harm Harry.

I have the utmost confidence that you will take Harry into your home and treat him as a second son, despite your rather well-known aversion to our community. When Harry turns eleven, he will naturally be invited to attend Hogwarts as is befitting his heritage.

Yours most sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry snorted upon finishing the letter. “Now I know why they took me in; it was to protect themselves. Too bad Dumbledore didn’t think to have the charms protect me from them.” Ginny patted his arm reassuringly and he smiled at her. “Sorry to be so negative about it.”

Hermione and Ron nodded their understanding and Hermione added, “No one expects you to react positively to that sort of situation, Harry.” She gave him a small smile before asking, “Are you going to read the other two?”

He picked up the second envelope, which was addressed to just his Aunt Petunia.

Dear Mrs. Dursley,

Lily and James informed me that you have refused them safe harbor in their attempt to hide from Lord Voldemort. I must urge you to reconsider, if not for their sakes, then for their son’s. The bonds of blood are a powerful magic in and of themselves, and your home would provide the greatest protection we in the magical community can give the Potter family. I give you my personal assurance that all available charms and other protections will be placed on your home with your permission.

I remain yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

“Jeez, Dumbledore always expects the best of people, er, always expected the best of people,” Harry hastily corrected, “Thinking that the Dursleys would take us in was just foolish. And now I have something else to be mad about — if they had taken us in, perhaps my parents would still be alive. I think I have a Howler to send to Petunia.” He tried his best to suppress his rage and turn it into dark humor. “I’ll get your mum to tell me how to make one; she seems to have a knack for it.”

He grimaced as his friends hesitantly laughed, and turned to the third envelope. It too was addressed to just his aunt.

Dear Mrs. Dursley,

I’m afraid it would be unethical of me to remove your son’s memory of the Dementor attack, regardless of how distressing it was for him. I can imagine that the memory of young Harry causing him to encounter a large snake would be disturbing, but I assure you that the Dementors have no further interest in you now that Harry is not residing in your home. The best of us suffer nightmares on occasion and I cannot image that your son is any different.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry laughed out loud. “Having a snake slither by him is the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, and Petunia thinks it’s bad enough to have him Obliviated. What an ass!”

Hermione’s hissed intake of breath was immediately followed by, “Language, Harry!”

“Oh honestly, Hermione, Harry’s gone through enough to make anyone curse occasionally. At least he’s not a sailor like Ron,” Ginny defended. Ron had the good sense to look abashed rather than angry at Ginny’s declaration.

Harry cleared his throat to get their attention. “Can you lot think of any more questions for Sirius? I don’t want to bother him unnecessarily, but I have a couple of things I want to ask him myself.”

He looked around at his friends, and they all shook their heads no. He rose and crossed the room to his nightstand and picked up the mirror. “Padfoot,” he said quietly and the mirror began to glow again before showing Sirius’s face.

He moved back to the space he’d vacated on the floor beside Ginny and sat down. “Hello, Sirius,” he began.

“Hello, Harry,” Sirius replied, “Are you alone or is your enchanting girlfriend with you?” His grin was infectious, and Harry smiled back.

“Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are here with me,” he answered. “I’ve got a few questions for you. You know how the other day I told you that Petunia gave me a box with letter and photos in it?”

Sirius nodded. “Did you get a chance to look through them?”

Harry responded, “Yeah, we just finished. Lots of them were from Mum at Hogwarts complaining about Dad.” Harry stifled another grin and continued, “But a few were from Dumbledore to Petunia, talking about Voldemort and my parents, with one to Vernon and Petunia about taking me in.”

Sirius nodded again, “Lily was particularly angry when Petunia wouldn’t help them hide. She seemed to think that Petunia didn’t really understand the threat, and I’m inclined to agree. I really didn’t like the idea of you going to live with them, after what Lily told me about them, but I needed to go after Peter and I couldn’t exactly take you with me.”

Harry scoffed, “I wish you had taken me, and left Peter to the Aurors — I’d have gotten a happier upbringing and you wouldn’t have been framed.”

Sirius let out a bark like laugh. “True, Harry, but hindsight is, as always, 20/20. I knew where Peter was hiding and thought I had a better chance of finding him than the other Aurors did.”

“Other Aurors?” Harry started. “You were an Auror?”

“Yes. Your father and I had both just completed our Auror training when your parents went into hiding with you. Remus and I told you your father always hated the Dark Arts, so it seemed natural that taking up the fight against Voldemort in an official capacity was the right path. It’s not like James needed a high-paying job, with the inheritance from his parents.”

Harry relayed his conversation so far to the group, and Hermione piped up, “Tell him about Professor Lupin and Tonks! He’ll be happy that Professor Lupin is happy.”

Harry nodded and told Sirius what Hermione suggested and was rewarded with a hearty guffaw from Sirius. “A Metamorphmagus and a werewolf. It’s a good thing lycanthropy isn’t hereditary or we’d be in danger of a litter of pink and purple werewolf cubs!”

When Harry bust into almost-hysterical laughter, the other three pressed him to explain what was so funny. Then they too joined in the giggling.

When the laughter subsided, Harry pressed on, “I’ve got a couple of questions for you, Sirius. Now that I know that Dad was an Auror, that brings up the first one. What did Mum do?”

He was rewarded with another broad grin. “Well, no one’s quite sure what Lily did. We know she worked in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable, but she couldn’t tell us about her work — nature of the business.”

Harry thanked Sirius for the information and continued, “Do you know who did the Fidelius at the house in Godric Hollow? And for that matter, where is the house in Godric’s Hollow?”

“Well, Harry, I can’t tell you where the house is, as I wasn’t the Secret Keeper. But you should know, or at least be able to find it, because it’s your house as much as it was James and Lily’s. The Fidelius persists after the death of the caster and the Secret Keeper, so it’s hidden from everyone who doesn’t know already unless Peter chooses to tell them. Your mother was the caster, of course — she was excellent at Charms and Potions.” Sirius looked contemplative.

A thought occurred to Harry, “Why didn’t my dad act as Secret Keeper, if Mum could cast the charm?”

Sirius looked taken aback at the question, “I don’t think it can be done that way, Harry. It certainly didn’t come up in our discussions of it.”

Harry corrected him, “It can — Bill cast the Fidelius on Headquarters yesterday with me as Secret Keeper, and I own it now. Dad could have been Secret Keeper and kept Peter out of the whole thing.”

Sirius looked disappointed, “I just don’t think it occurred to them, Harry, although maybe it should have. Things certainly would have turned out differently if they had.”

“Why did Dad give Dumbledore the invisibility cloak?” Harry quickly changed the subject away from reflecting on his dead parents. “Dumbledore could be invisible without a cloak, so he didn’t need it.”

“Remember Moody’s cloak that the Order used? Same thing. The more cloaks we had available to us, the better.” Sirius explained.

Harry nodded in understanding, “That makes sense.”

He steeled himself for the next question, “What happened to my grandparents? Did Voldemort get them too?”

“No, Harry.” Sirius shook his head. “You mother’s parents were killed in a car accident right before James and Lily got married. That’s probably where Petunia came up with the lie she told you about your parents. And James’s parents were quite old when they had him, they died of natural causes — your grandfather of dragon pox right before you were born, your grandmother just after.”

Harry looked around at his friends again and asked, “Can any of you think of other things to ask?” They responded with simultaneous head shaking, so Harry thanked Sirius and gave him a promise to contact him again soon. “Mischief managed,” he muttered and the mirror connection closed. He placed the mirror back on his night stand and suggested, “What do you lot think of heading back to Headquarters to look for the locket some more? For some reason I’ve got an itch to do something today.”

They hastily agreed and soon found themselves back in the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place with Bill. Hermione suggested that she and Ron look through Kreatcher’s nest and then meet Harry and Ginny upstairs when they finished, which everyone decided was as good an idea as any other. Bill opted to head to the library to see if he could find any books on curses he hadn’t already read.

After they left Bill in the library and climbed to the next landing, Harry stopped Ginny and surrounded her with his arms. “Thank you for earlier. I feel like I’m a wreck recently, but knowing that you’re there for me and don’t think I’m some kind of poofter makes it easier to handle.” He leaned down and gently laid his lips over hers. He didn’t expect that she would weave her fingers into his hair and leave him unable to retreat after what he intended to be a relatively chaste kiss.

In moments, he found himself leaning against the wall with the length of Ginny’s body pressed against his. While he couldn’t find it within himself to protest, he was a little curious what brought on this particular scenario. He sighed mentally and resigned himself to his fate, resting his hands on Ginny’s hips and opening his mouth to hers, kissing her back as forcefully as she was kissing him. Her response drove him slightly mad: she made a low growling sound in her throat and pressed herself more insistently against him. He was glad to have the support of the wall to keep him from either falling over backwards or dropping to his knees from the lightheadedness he was now experiencing. Merlin, this is bloody incredible fleetingly crossed his mind as he wondered what to do next. Inspiration struck as he remembered that Ginny’s bedroom from their stay two years prior was just down the hall. He pushed her away gently and led her by the hand to the room.

Ginny chuckled under her breath, which was coming in quick gasps, and Harry thought it was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard. “What are you planning to do to me, Mr. Potter, which requires a closed door?” She stepped into him again and kissed his collarbone, sending shivers down his spine.

Harry cleared his throat and was relieved to hear that his voice was relatively steady, even if his respiration wasn’t. “Well, if you keep doing that, I’m going to lose control of my legs, so I thought it was best that we move somewhere that I can sit down before I made us fall down the stairs.”

She made a sound that was something like “Mmhmm,” and continued working her way along his neck, but he was too distracted by walking them backward across the room and the pleasant tingling that was slowly overtaking his entire body to pay proper attention to anything she might be saying.

He was positive that his heart stopped when she took one of his hands and guided it to her chest, placing it on top of one very soft yet firm breast. A quick mental inventory informed him that he was, in fact, still breathing and his heart was still beating, so he took his attention away from himself and put it back on Ginny. He gently ran his thumb over the mound as his fingers and palm held its weight, and was rewarded by a short gasp from his girlfriend. My incredible, amazing, brilliant girlfriend, he thought to himself as he sat down on the bed and drew her down to sit beside him.

They carried on in that manner for several minutes before Harry began to panic. I have no idea what I’m doing, he realized. Where are we going with this? He leaned back on the bed and pulled Ginny down beside him, where she immediately curled against his side and nestled her head into his shoulder. She made another contented purr-like sound and Harry breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t angry with him for stopping their activities. He bent toward her and kissed the top of her head, then rolled onto his side to face her. Running his free hand over her hair and taking a lock of it to twine around his fingers, he grinned at her sheepishly. “Er, wow?” He leaned in and kissed her forehead and pulled her close against his chest, where he felt her giggle against his shirt.

“Not that I’m complaining, Gin, but what brought that on?” he asked, relishing the feel of her so close.

She pulled back enough to be heard clearly and touched his face. “You really have opened yourself up to me in the past few days, Harry. I loved you before, just the way you were, even when you were being stupid,” Harry blushed as she continued, “But recently I’ve started seeing how gentle you can be, and how vulnerable you really are. When you thanked me there on the landing, I was just overwhelmed with this desire to be close to you, to show you how much more I love you now that you’ve let me seen this part of you as well.”

“Ah, well, I’ll have to choke up more often if that’s the reaction I’m going to get,” he joked as he tickled her ribs. She squealed and tried to pull away from him, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. If she’s really wanted to get away, he had no chance of keeping her there. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you’re here for me. It means a lot to me. Ron always acts uncomfortable when there’s any kind of emotion involved, although he’s getting better, and Hermione is such a problem solver that she wants to make everything better. You just listen, and sometimes tell me it will be okay. I need that sometimes.” He leaned down again and kissed her forehead.

She turned her face up to him and smiled. “Just don’t turn into Moaning Myrtle on me and we’ll be all right.” She sat up, and straightened her shirt. “We should probably get to the attic before anyone comes looking for us.”

Harry nodded agreement and the two of them traveled the final flight of stairs to the attic without incident. They spent fifteen minutes alone, rummaging through bags, when Ron and Hermione joined them. Bill arrived an hour later, and by lunchtime, they had sorted through everything that was left.

Hermione sighed, “Well that was a big waste of time,” she gestured at the mountain of bags, “Nothing.”

Harry nodded his agreement. “Looks like it’s time to track down Dung, or visit the Hog’s Head and see if we can talk to the bartender about anything he might have bought.” He turned to Bill. “Do you think it would be okay for us to go to Hogsmeade right now, or should we ask your mum first?”

Bill frowned and concluded, “We should probably go back to the Burrow for lunch, or Mum will worry that something has happened to us. We can go to Hogsmeade this afternoon.” The foursome nodded their agreement and they all Flooed back to the Weasley home.

Upon arrival at the Three Broomsticks, Harry voiced his concern aloud. “What are we going to do if we have to track down Dung? Last I heard he was in Azkaban, and I don’t think I’ll get to visit there anytime soon.”

Ginny patted his arm and assured him, “We’ll cross that bridge if we need to. We might have good luck at the Hog’s Head.”

The five of them trudged down the street and around the corner to the building that housed the Hog’s Head pub. Harry’s memories of the Hog’s Head were less than pleasant, and he was not looking forward to going in there again, much less accusing the unpleasant-looking bartender of buying stolen goods.

He was in for quite a shock when they approached the bar and the barman greeted him by name. “Hello, Harry. Have a butterbeer.” He pulled out five dusty bottles and placed them at the bar. “What brings you here today?”

Harry goggled at the man for a moment, shocked beyond words that the old man had spoken actual words instead of grunts. He looked around the bar and noticed that no one else was present before asking him, “I have some questions about something you might have bought from Mundungus Fletcher last year.”

The barman nodded in response to the request, and gestured for Harry to continue.

“Well, Dung took a lot of things that he shouldn’t have, but mostly we’re looking for a locket. It would be heavy, and not able to be opened.” Harry looked hopefully at the man, who looked thoughtful.

“May be I have a locket from Dung. Let me go look in the back room.” He turned and disappeared behind a grimy door that Harry had assumed was just part of the wall, and returned a few moments later holding the locket. Harry almost fell off his barstool in relief and held out his hand.

“Wait just a second there, boy, I paid good money for this. You say you’re looking for it, but why should I just give it to you?” Harry was suddenly very uncomfortable under the man’s stare.

He decided to try a trump card. “Professor Dumbledore died trying to find this locket. It’s very important to the downfall of Voldemort, and besides, it’s stolen property and I’m its rightful owner.” He hoped that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds and relaxed a bit when Ginny squeezed his hand.

“Albus was looking for it, you say? Well, if my brother were still around to ask me himself, I’d have no problem handing it over to him. You’re a different story.”

For the second time, Harry almost fell off his seat. “You’re — you’re Professor Dumbledore’s brother?”

The barman stuck out his hand in greeting, “Aberforth Dumbledore — nice to meetcha.” Hermione gasped and Ron said something under his breath that Hermione surely would have admonished him for had she not been so shocked.

Harry suddenly remembered feeling vaguely like he recognized the man the first time he saw him, and figured it had something to do with a bit of family resemblance. Aberforth’s nose was shorter, his hair was a disorderly gray as opposed to his brother’s sleek silver, and his eyes held none of the twinkle that Harry remembered in his mentor’s, but the likeness was there now that he knew to look for it. He stopped goggling at Aberforth long enough to take the proffered hand and shake it. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Aberforth guffawed, “Sir, that’s a good one. I see why Albus liked you.” He smiled, but Harry would rather he didn’t — it made him look entirely too much like his brother. “So what are you going to offer me for the locket?”

Harry quickly took inventory of the cash he had in his pocket and came up with just under twenty galleons. He offered it to Aberforth, who laughed out loud. “Boy, never offer everything you have on the first turn. What if I’d wanted more? Always start out low.”

Taken completely aback by being tutored on bargaining, Harry asked, “Well, is that enough? I don’t have time to play around; this is important.”

Aberforth resumed what seemed to be his regular occupation, wiping dirty glasses with an even dirtier rag. He considered for a moment and said, “I’ll take ten. I only gave Dung five, so I’m still ahead.”

Harry laid the money on the bar beside the locket, having no desire to touch the hand that was touching so much filth. He pocketed the necklace and thanked Aberforth, vowing to himself that if he never returned to the Hog’s Head it would be too soon. “Come on, everyone, let’s go.” He drained the rest of his butterbeer in one long swallow and had to resist the urge to belch.

Outside, Harry turned to Bill. “Do you think anyone would be at the school right now? I’d like to talk to Dumbledore’s portrait about the locket if we can get in.”