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The Lives We Touch
By Kennedy

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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Reviews: 152
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***

When ten year old Harry Potter is assigned to Maggie Thompson's fifth year class at Little Whinging Primary School, the young teacher takes an immediate interest in and liking to the strange but sweet young boy. As their friendship grows through the years, Maggie finds herself pulled into a new world beyond her wildest imagination that sets her on a course for love and adventure.
Hitcount: Story Total: 67001; Chapter Total: 6656





Author's Notes:
Thanks again for all the reviews everyone!! You have been so wonderful with your comments! I am so glad that this story is catching on! Here's a little more for you...




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Chapter Three — Magnolia

June 1991

“…we found the home at Number 4 Privet Drive was well maintained, tidy, and very well suited to the needs of two growing boys. The refrigerator and pantry were well stocked with food and there were no traces of insects or vermin infesting the home. The guardians, though a bit uptight and nervous during our visit, were pleasant and answered all questions to our satisfaction. Therefore, after completing our investigation into the mistreatment of Harry Potter, we have seen no reason to remove the boy from his relatives' care. It is possible that his small stature and withdrawn personality are lingering side effects of losing his parents at such a young age…”

Maggie clutched the report from Children’s Protective Services tightly in her hands as she read it over for the hundredth time. Were they blind? She had never even been to the Dursleys' home and could tell that something was not right with that family. But there it was…in black and white. Maggie’s last chance to save Harry from a lifetime of mistreatment and neglect. She had done everything that Child Services had told her to do…she collected evidence, she made the phone calls, and she trusted in the system. But the system had let her down. And it let Harry down.

And now it was out of her hands.

Yesterday had been the last day of term and Harry Potter was no longer her student. For all intents and purposes, he was someone else’s problem from now on. But the flaw in that theory was that no one else seemed to see what Maggie saw. He had spent five years at Little Whinging Primary School and she had been the first to report that he may be an abused and neglected child. The teachers before her had labeled him “strange” and then bowed to society’s pressures to mind their own business and allow others to live their own lives.

Maggie crumpled up the report and hurled it angrily across the room before burying her face in her hands as she tried not to cry.

“It won’t do any good, Miss Thompson.” The stern looking woman from Child Services told her when she had filed her report. “Just looking at the address, Privet Drive is a nice neighborhood.”

“Children can’t be neglected in nice neighborhoods?” Maggie had bit back tightly, glaring at the woman angrily.

“Proving neglect in children who come from good homes can be a tedious task. If the guardians can show that the child in question is adequately provided for in terms of food, clothing, and shelter, there is normally no further investigation.” The woman responded as she glanced through the paperwork that Maggie had filled out. “And you have not reported any physical abuse…there is nothing in here about bruises or other physical injuries except for the scar on his forehead.”

“Just because scars are not visible does not mean they have not been inflicted…”

But the stern looking woman had been right. There was simply not enough solid proof of mistreatment to have Harry removed from his aunt and uncle’s care. Because, apparently, her gut instinct was not enough evidence to warrant a proper investigation. And now he was gone.

“You did everything you could.” Her friend and colleague, Katie McNamara, had reassured her when Maggie had first received the report. “I saw you with him…on the playground and in the hallways. Harry was talking to you…in complete, whole sentences! That’s never happened before. He trusted you. You made a difference in his life.”

But it wasn’t enough. Maggie was sure of it.

She glanced around her empty classroom and allowed her eyes to rest upon the desk in the front row where Harry had spent the last eight months of his life. That small wooden structure had become like a sanctuary for him. For eight months out of an entire lifetime.

No, it wasn’t enough.

Standing up suddenly, she grabbed her keys and headed out the classroom door.

“For the last five months, I have been doing it the government’s way.” Maggie muttered to herself as she walked briskly to her car and ignored the strange looks she received from the teacher’s she passed along the way. “Now, we are going to do this the Maggie Thompson way.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *


“Drive past the park and turn left on Magnolia.”

Maggie squinted down at the hastily written notes she had scribbled when she stopped at a nearby market for directions to Privet Drive. Glancing back up at the street sign, she grimaced and shook her head in disgust.

“Magnolia Drive? Or Magnolia Crescent?” she muttered to herself, slowing her little, red car down to a crawl as she scanned the streets on either side of her. Little Whinging wasn’t that big, so how on earth could she be so lost? “God, I hate the suburbs.”

Coming to the end of Magnolia Crescent, Maggie made a calculated guess to turn right…and thankfully ended up on Privet Drive.

The longest day of the year, and unfortunately the hottest as well, was heading toward a captivating climax on Harry‘s street. There was a slight summer's breeze that swept down and about the street, disturbing tree branches and making paper bags and other bits of trash scuttle across the dusty roadway. But although the breeze seemed useful for relieving the surrounding area of unwanted garbage, it did not seem capable of driving away the incessant heat.

The children on Privet Drive could be found swimming or running through sprinklers throughout the neighborhoods, providing them with some relief from the day's heat. Parents lounged about their pools while watching the children play or idly fanning themselves on shady front porches, where the view of their offspring was unobstructed.

Somehow, it did not surprise her in the slightest to see no sign of Harry Potter.

Parking her car outside of Number 4 Privet Drive, Maggie peered up at the large, square home that looked just like every other large, square home on the block. At first glance, she would have to agree with the children’s services workers…everything looked normal on the outside.

Suddenly realizing that she had left school without a plan for getting inside to see Harry, she scanned the confines of her car until her blue eyes came to rest upon the latest copy of The Cauldron Chronicles. Grabbing the book, Maggie exited her car and headed up the walk.

She knocked on the front door about five times before it swung open and a thin, mousy woman stared out at her coldly. Petunia Dursley cocked an eyebrow at her unwanted guest and drawled thinly, “Yes?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Dursley.” Maggie began in her most charming voice, pasting a wide smile on her pink lips. “My name is Maggie Thompson.” There was no flash of recognition on the woman’s thin face, so Maggie explained, “I was Harry’s teacher this term.” Still no response. “We met on Parent’s Night back in September.”

“Yes, Miss Thompson,” Petunia finally said, looking at the younger woman warily. “I remember. What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to see Harry.”

The long necked woman blanched visibly as she repeated in horror, “Here to see Harry?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Maggie said, holding out her copy of The Cauldron Chronicles. “I forgot to give him this gift yesterday and I wanted to…”

“You have a gift for Harry?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The blond teacher repeated, looking at Mrs. Dursley strangely. The woman acted as if she had just announced that she was here to give Harry a poisonous snake instead of a book. “An end of term gift. For Harry.”

“Dudley didn’t receive an end of term gift.” Petunia informed her, letting her eyes run over Maggie’s crisp blouse, tailored skirt, and designer shoes.

“Dudley wasn’t in my class, Mrs. Dursley. I only got gifts for the students who were in my classroom.” Maggie fibbed, beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny. “But I forgot to give Harry his and so…”

“I will give it to him.” Petunia slid the door open further and reached out for the book.

But Maggie was too quick and pulled it out of Harry’s aunt’s grasp as she explained patiently, “I would prefer to give it to him myself.“ Eyeing Mrs. Dursley warily, she asked, “Is Harry home?“

“He’s sleeping.“ came the curt response.

“Sleeping?“ Maggie repeated, raising her eyebrow. “In the middle of the afternoon on the first day of summer holiday?”

“Yes, he’s…”

But Petunia Dursley never got the chance to finish her explanation because at that moment, just beyond her right shoulder, the subject of the two women’s conversation came into view.

“Harry?” Maggie asked in shock and anger. “Did you just come out of that cupboard beneath the stairs?”

Harry, more than a little surprised to see his teacher standing at the door to his house, blinked in disbelief and then looked up at his aunt in alarm. Petunia recovered quickly and answered hastily, “Of course he didn’t, don’t be silly.” She turned back to Maggie and moved to block her view into the house as she added quickly, “Harry was simply putting the broom and dustpan away for me…”

“You just told me he was sleeping.” Maggie reminded her, narrowing her eyes at the horse-faced woman.

“Well, he was.” Petunia answered. “And before he fell asleep, I asked him to put the broom and dustpan away for me when he awoke, so…” She finally brought her eyes up to meet Maggie’s angry ones and faltered a bit as she finished, “…and so that is what he was doing. Putting the broom and dustpan away. In the cupboard under the stairs.”

The young teacher did not believe a word that came out of the woman’s mouth and was sure that fact was written all over her face as she continued to glare at Harry’s guardian. Coldly, she told the woman, “I would like to come in and see Harry.”

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting visitor’s today,” Petunia spluttered, her face turning a bright shade of pink, “and the house isn’t really clean or…”

“I’m not here to see you or your house.” Maggie retorted, sticking her foot in the door to keep Mrs. Dursley from closing it in her face. “And since we both know that Harry is awake now, the mannerly thing for you to do is to invite me inside.”

“The mannerly thing to do?” Petunia repeated, staring at Maggie in shock. And then, as if she had been smacked in the head by a book of manners, Mrs. Dursely smiled falsely and said, “Of course, Miss Thompson. Please come in. I don’t know where my manners are.”

As she stepped over the threshold into the house, Maggie had the distinct impression that had she not been a respected teacher in the community who gossiped with other respected teachers in the community then Maggie would still be standing out on the stoop.

“Mind your shoes.” Petunia ordered, standing back with that tight smile of hers still plastered on her face. Maggie slipped off her heels, and followed the woman into the kitchen where Harry and Dudley were seated at a large square table.

“Mummy!” The pig faced boy exclaimed as the two women entered the room. “That’s Harry’s teacher! What’s she doing here?”

“Yes, I know Duddykins.” Petunia answered tightly, her eyes never leaving Maggie. “Miss Thompson is here to see Harry.”

“To see Harry?” Dudley echoed, a wicked smile crossing his face. “What’s he done?”

“Harry hasn’t done anything wrong.” Maggie said before Petunia could open her mouth to speak. Smiling warmly at Harry, she added, “I have a present for him.”

“A present for Harry?” The large boy asked, as if someone doing something nice for his cousin were a foreign concept to him.

“Duddykins, why don’t we go to the bakery and buy you some cakes for tonight’s dessert?” Petunia suggested, still watching Maggie closely.

“Chocolate cakes?”

“Anything that you want.” she answered her son, picking up her handbag and practically running back out into the hallway. “Come along, Dudley.” Looking back at Maggie, she nodded curtly and said, “You can let yourself out when you are finished with your visit?”

“Of course.” Maggie said to the Dursley’s retreating backs. And without another word to Harry, they were gone. “Nice meeting you, too.” she muttered before turning back to her former student and smiling brightly, “So, Harry…”

“I can’t believe she let you in.” he breathed, looking at her in amazement.

“What was she going to do?” Maggie asked with a chuckle. “Leave me out on the stoop?”

“Yes.” Harry answered simply.

“Well, I can be a very forceful woman when I want to be.” The young teacher assured him. “Do you mind if I sit down, Harry?”

Harry stood up and pulled out one of the plastic kitchen chairs for her and Maggie took a seat next to him at the table. Pushing the book in front of him, she said, “I brought this for you.”

“Why?”

“I thought you might like to read it over the summer.” Maggie told him, and then pulled the book back and opened the front cover. “And right here, inside, I am going to put my telephone number so that you can call me to discuss the book. Or,” she looked up at him pointedly and added softly, “we can talk about anything. Anything at all.”

“Thank you, Miss Thompson.” Harry said quietly, staring down at the numbers that she had written on the corner of the book’s title page. “I’ll put this somewhere safe…where Dudley can’t find it.” When Maggie looked at him curiously, he clammed up and stammered, “I mean, so that he doesn’t try to call your house as a joke.”

“Right.” Maggie agreed, not fully believing him. Changing the subject, she smiled again and asked, “So, what are your plans for the summer Harry?”

“I don’t really make plans, Miss Thompson.” He answered honestly. “I’ll probably just hang around here and wait for the school term to start in the fall.”

“Which secondary school will you be attending?”

“Stonewall High.”

“Well, that’s a good school.” Maggie replied, trying to say something encouraging. “I know some of the teachers there. They are very good.”

“Not as good as you.” He replied shyly, still clutching the book she had given him. Turning beet red, it was his turn to change the subject as he asked hastily, “And what are you doing this summer?”

Maggie sighed and answered, “I am going home to America for the summer. My sister is getting married later this summer and all of our family is gathering back in my hometown parish in Louisiana a few weeks before the wedding.” She rolled her eyes comically as she added sarcastically, “It should be wonderful. All my crazy relatives in one central location…”

“You grew up in America?” Harry asked in surprise. “What are you doing here in Surrey?”

“My Aunt Sarah lives in Godric’s Hollow.” Maggie explained, her eyes beginning to twinkle. “I love Aunt Sarah…she’s a real pistol. I used to spend many of my summer’s with her and one year…when I was about 12...I spent the whole year with her and went to a fancy private school in London. I absolutely loved it and knew that I had to come back someday. So, when I began looking at colleges, I applied to Oxford and they accepted me. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Do you miss your family in America?”

“Sometimes.” she admitted honestly. “But I talk to them all the time on the telephone and I go home to Louisiana for Christmas and every summer, so I get to see them pretty much. And at Easter, they all came here to see me in Surrey. It was nice to have them here in my world for a few days.”

“Is your family big?”

“Pretty big, compared to most families.” Maggie answered, curious at his sudden interest in her family life. “I have two older brothers, one younger brother, and an older sister. Plus, my grandmother lived with us when I was growing up, so our house was pretty full. And noisy.” She chuckled as continued, “Sometimes I think that I moved all the way to England just so that I could finally have some space and time to myself.”

Harry smiled sadly and nodded as Maggie continued, “I don’t think my parents were happy about me moving across an entire ocean all by myself, but they’ve been really supportive. I can still hear my mother’s voice in my head…” she grinned and raised her voice an octave as she imitated her mother’s tone, “Magnolia Lee Thompson, you can go halfway around the world if you want to, but you can always come back home to the family that loves you whenever you need…”

“Your name is Magnolia?” Harry interrupted, looking at her in surprise.

Maggie screwed up her face into a grimace as she said, “I know…isn’t it awful? That’s why most people call me Maggie. Except my mom…she loves to call me ‘her little Magnolia‘. She told me that she used to sit out under a big magnolia tree in our yard when she was pregnant with me and that’s how she came up with my name.”

“Magnolia.” Harry repeated, trying out this new information. Looking up at her with a smile, he said, “I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“My mom…” he said quietly, looking away from her. “My mom had a flower name, too.” Harry brought his brilliant green eyes up to meet Maggie’s and whispered, “Her name was Lily.”

Maggie blinked back the tears at his obvious pain and said quietly, “That is a beautiful name, Harry.” Not sure what to do next, she asked, “Do you have a picture of her?”

He shook his head and looked back down at the book she had given him, aimlessly tracing the letters of the title with his slender finger. Without thinking, Maggie reached out and put her hand over his smaller one and asked quietly, “Are you alright, Harry?”

He didn’t look up at her as he nodded his head in response, but Maggie persisted. “Are you sure that there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? Anything at all?” He still refused to look at her, so she lifted her hand to put it under his chin and forced his gaze up to meet hers as she assured him, “Because you can tell me anything, Harry. And it will be just between us. I can help you if you let me.”

Harry looked up at her with those beautiful eyes of his and held her gaze for a few brief moments. He looked so torn and confused and Maggie desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him and steal him away from his awful existence.

Finally he said quietly, “Aunt Petunia and Dudley will be home soon.” Tearing his eyes away from hers, he stood up and said, “Thank you for the book, Miss Thompson. I will take good care of it this summer. And maybe I’ll call you when I finish so that we can talk about it.”

“I’d like that.” Maggie said, standing up as well. He walked her to the door and before she left, she turned and said quietly, “Good Luck, Harry Potter.”

As she walked back down the walk to her car, she finally allowed the tears to fall silently down her cheeks. For that was the day when Magnolia Lee Thompson learned life’s hard lesson that sometimes you just can’t save them all.
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