Summary: Half blood? Wrong. Dumbledore discovers Harry was adopted and his birth parents were Muggles. Muggleborn? Wrong again. Harry's magic vanishes along with the charms that made him look like the Potters. Muggle? Help!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. Lovejoy, Sam and Charlotte belong to someone else – I don't know who, because not only are there Lovejoy books but ITV is running the show that the BBC did originally. Let's just say I don't own anything other than the plot, OK?

Author's Notes: Yay I got a review!!!!! Thanks ImSoMMAD!


Chapter Two

Petunia stopped in the doorway, staring at the chaos in the room. "Um … Headmaster? Your tea."

Dumbledore looked up. "Oh, excellent," he said cheerfully, taking it from her. "Thank you, Petunia."

"You don't want a drink do you?" she directed at Harry. Harry shook his head, his eyes still on the paperwork.

"Then … I'll leave you to it," she said quietly, before turning and leaving.

Harry let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "This will take forever."

"It shouldn't do," Dumbledore murmured, sipping his tea. "Ouch, that's hot. There have been very few people to attend Hogwarts with the name Cavendish while I've been teaching. Of course, it's entirely possible that your parent or parents left before I started … but as I started in 1941, it's more likely to have been after, especially if your mother and Lily were friends."

Harry nodded, not quite following. "The problem is we don't know for sure they were both wizards. Neither do we know if that was my mum's maiden name or not." He threw aside the volume he'd been perusing. "So looking up the name Cavendish in old school records …"

"May well be a red herring, but it's the best place to start," Dumbledore said firmly. "Are you done with that one?"

"Yes. Can I ask why we're searching through old Hogwarts yearbooks?"

"You were the one who pointed out this discovery was best kept a secret until we know more," Dumbledore replied, handing him a new volume. "Going through Ministry records would attract too much attention."

Harry bit a hangnail nervously. "Aunt Petunia said that my father was an antiques dealer, or something." He looked up at Dumbledore. "Doesn't that sound a bit of an odd profession for a wizard?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Plenty of wizards take on Muggle careers. There's just not enough opportunities with the wizarding society for a lot of people's tastes, especially the more artistic ones."

"Could a wizard really have a proper career in the Muggle world?" Harry asked curiously. "I mean, being at Hogwarts means they'd miss out on a load of important education, so they'd be really behind."

"The Muggles have a much better system to us, because there are far more of them. They have far more opportunities to go back and re-learn and re-take exams and so on. And with their technology growing so fast, it's much easier for them to learn it – I believe they can be sent work using their computers and send it back the same way once it's done, so they don't even need to leave the house."

"Wow," Harry murmured. "They really are better off from that point of view."

Dumbledore smiled. "The wizarding world I'm afraid is sadly lacking in that area." He stifled a yawn. "If wizards could master computers then education would be a whole lot better."

"Hermione told me that electrical stuff goes haywire round Hogwarts," Harry murmured, turning a page. "I suppose there isn't a way to get round that?"

"The governors don't think so, and many of them are old-fashioned purebloods who look down their nose at Muggle inventions anyway. But I've always had the belief there's a possible way to make the technology actually run on magic rather than electricity … I've just never had the opportunity to test the theory."

Harry brightened. "Maybe once Voldemort's gone that could be my new life project."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You wouldn't have the time either if you made it as an Auror – which I am sure you will."

"I don't know," Harry said slowly. "I think I could, it's just … when I talked to Professor McGonagall about my career I didn't know about the prophecy then. Now, I guess once I'm through with Voldemort – assuming I'm still alive by then – I'll want a break from fighting Dark wizards. So I don't know what I want to do."

"Well, you have plenty of time to decide," Dumbledore encouraged, trying and failing to stifle another yawn.

"Tired, Professor?" Harry teased.

"Just a little. I was up half the night."

"Ditto," Harry muttered, yawning himself. "You've set me off now."



Half an hour later, Harry and Dumbledore had been through every Hogwarts yearbook since 1940 and made a list of every Cavendish that had attended the school, whether it was their proper name or if they'd married into the family. Dumbledore had then gone down the list, crossing off the ones that didn't fit the little information they had. Now the only ones they had left were wizard-Muggle marriages. So Harry, inspired by their earlier conversation, made a suggestion:

The Internet.


"But Diddykins -"

"Don't worry Aunt Petunia, we're going to use the library," Harry said loudly, putting on his cloak, which Dumbledore had transfigured into an ordinary coat.

The bus ride was uneventful. Dumbledore, looking to Harry rather strange in Muggle clothes, was reading The Telegraph over the shoulder of the Muggle in front of them. Harry sat by the window, staring at his reflection in the window.

His hair, which had once been black and insisted on sticking up, now lay completely flat in a dark blonde colour. His eyes were blue-grey rather than the green he was used to. He stared at the unfamiliar face, wondering what his father would look like if he was still alive. Would they be recognisably family? Or did Harry take after his mother?

A tap on his shoulder made him start.

"Sorry Harry," Dumbledore apologised. "It's our stop."

Harry shook himself out of it and they disembarked.


"Try this one – John Cavendish, Hogwarts class of 1956, married a Muggle. Born 1938 in Croydon."

Harry's fingers were aching as he typed the date and place into the boxes. Within an hour they had narrowed down the list of twenty possibilities to three. Dumbledore sat patiently waiting for the page to load, the end of a ballpoint pen in his mouth.

"Nope," he said at last. Dumbledore crossed off the name.

"That was the last one to cross off," Harry said happily. "Now we're left with three. So … what now?"

Dumbledore looked down at their shortlist. "We contact the ones left."

Harry yawned. "Tomorrow. I'm tired." He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

"Harry …"


"Why didn't we try -?" Dumbledore leaned across to the keyboard and typed in Cavendish plus antiques in the search bar.

"That'll give us hundreds of results," Harry said sleepily.

"Worth a try." Dumbledore clicked on "Go".

Harry didn't expect anything useful to come up at once, but when Dumbledore sat up straight, suddenly wide awake, he knew they'd got lucky.

"Cavendish Auction House, from 1973. Original owner Sam Cavendish … Became Cavendish and Son in 1978."

"And Son?"

"Bingo! The 'son' was Charlotte Cavendish!"

Harry nearly fell off the chair in his hurry to see the screen. "Do a search on her."

"Hold on … Charlotte Lucy Cavendish, daughter of Sam and Lucy Cavendish, born 1945, died … July 31st, 1980."

Harry suddenly had trouble breathing. "That's her. That's my mum. It has to be." He suddenly felt tears in his eyes. "Is there a picture?" he asked thickly.

Dumbledore didn't answer straight away. Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve, his vision clearing.

"Here," Dumbledore said at last.

For a moment Harry couldn't bring himself to look. When his gaze finally fell on the screen, he was finally greeted with an image of a young woman.

She was quite pretty, with shoulder-length blonde hair and he couldn't see her eye colour properly in the photo but he imagined it to be the same as his: grey-blue. In the photo she was wearing an official-looking suit, gold earrings and a beautiful smile.

For a long moment Harry couldn't speak.

"That's her," he finally croaked. Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder.

"What now?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I guess … her dad … Sam Cavendish … is our best option." He swallowed. "Look him up."

Twenty minutes later they were rewarded with an address of an old people's home outside London. After carefully writing it out and triple-checking it, Harry flicked back to the photo of his mother.

"Excuse me." They looked up to see one of the librarians standing next to them. "We're looking to close in a few minutes."

"We're just finished," Dumbledore said quietly, looking back at Harry. "Harry?"

Harry nodded. He hadn't realised how late it had become or how tired he was. Dumbledore picked up their coats and prepared to leave.


Harry clicked on "Print".


AN: I know … it wouldn't be half that easy in real life … but isn't fiction supposed to be filled with coincidences? (Though I just call it Fate.)

Review Responses

ImSoMMAD: Yay my first review! Keep reviewing every chapter please because I have a feeling I may not get very many reviewers for this fic! Lovejoy's a great show, it's running on ITV3 at the moment in the UK – it was first running in about the 80s, so it's not particularly well known to the younger generation – I only know it because my mum persuaded me to watch it (it was one of her favourites). Um, I put ADMM in the summary, but it's not going to be a big thing, just a subplot, really. Hehe, Albus is for once clueless. I like that too.

Thanks also to Crazy-Pyscho for reviewing!