Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and its properties. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and her respective partners. The title comes from a Wizard Rock song Ascendio by the Ministry of Magic. Harry being adopted is not my original concept either. I apologize and thank whoever first came up with the idea and that you find my twist on it original.
Claimer: I do own this story however and any original characters that may appear in the story.
This chapter is dedicated to my cousin and best friend who's moving away to Missouri.
I'm really going to miss you.
Petunia almost wanted to laugh. They had finally, after four years, accomplished it. They had succeeded in getting the wizards to come take away. Seeing the witch (who she was, Petunia did not know or care) sweep the burden up in her arms and disappear into thin air; it was something she always dreamed.
As suddenly as their sense of victory appeared, it vanished shortly afterward. Now she and her husband were staring down two wizards who had sticks pointed straight at them. Petunia would have also laughed here under normal circumstances, but she knew these were wands and instantly thought of the terrors that could happen to them.
Needless to say, she and Vernon had not thought this far.
Mrs. Dursley takes this brief moment to examine their possible murderers. The one that attracts her eye first is a very old man with a long, white beard and matching hair. His nose appeared broken, not once, but twice and he had brilliant blue eyes. He had a grandfatherly and wise appearance.
The other she had instantly recognized as Lily's old school friend. He had not changed much. He still had snow, pale skin with black, greasy hair framing his face. His face featured a hook nose, and dark, black eyes. She was a little surprised at seeing him so many years later and especially because of Harry's treatment. She remembered the last time her sister mentioned him and it was in a very negative light indicating she never wanted to see him again.
They both wore odd, wizardly clothing out of a fantasy film. Lily's childhood friend in complete black and the older one in more cheerful colors. Petunia had used the term "possible murderers" because of the identical look of intense hatred etched on both of their faces. The saying "if looks could kill…" came to mind.
The familiar one speaks first, "Do you realize what you have done?" Severus Snape's voice sounded as extreme as his expression.
Pressure is piled as she noticed that both pairs of eyes were on her, "O-of course, we do." She had stuttered out nervousness and was slightly disappointed her voice was not as strong as Snape's.
"Then, surely you know there will be consequences," says the elderly man. Petunia is surprised by how his voice contrasts with his emotion. It sounded calm and steady. If she hadn't known any better, he could have been commenting on the weather.
"Consequences?!" Vernon snapped, the opposite of the last speaker, "You think that you have the right to boss us around?"
"Idiots…" Snape grumbled under his breath, however loud enough that the Dursleys could hear. Whatever more he wanted to say was silence by a look from blue eyes. The older man now appears to be free of the anger, but Petunia is wise enough to know that is not the case.
"What were you thinking exactly when you…" the elder paused as if thinking for the right words, but it was really for an emphasis, "came up with this brilliant plan?"
"W-we," she mentally cursed that she still stumbled through her words, "wanted to g-get your attention."
"Congratulations. It worked," was the sarcastic whip from Lily's childhood friend. It stung.
"Don't talk to my wife like that!" Vernon yelled again.
"Severus," the old man said as if her husband hadn't said anything, "perhaps you can summon the aurors?"
"The what? Who are you anyway?"
"Certainly, Headmaster." Severus Snape went inside their home. Vernon's questions went unanswered.
"That's their police!" Petunia said in recognition, surprised at herself for the statement and that she said it without any troubles.
"You can't call your coppers on us!" Vernon said, turning purple, "We're not under whatever rubbish government you have."
"I am not at all sorry to inform you that the Ministry of Magic is under your government or that your crime is a punishable effect under both laws. Actually, we call the aurors on consideration for both sides," he said, wand still pointed to the couple, "The reason why you targeted this boy was because he was magical (both Dursleys' eyes narrowed at the word) and I'm sure you wouldn't want to explain that in front of other muggles who don't believe in such things. A bonus being for us that we don't have to worry about the excessive usage of memory charms."
Both were rendered silent after this explanation though Petunia wasn't sure if Vernon's silence was on part of surprise that the wizarding community was under the same government or if he simply had nothing to say.
The man seemed to analyze them carefully after his statements and though he seemed to have calculated them as non-threatening anymore, he didn't lower his wand, "How did you harm Harry? I had presumed that the blood wards protected him." His voice was softer, the first sign of verbal weakness.
Both husband and wife glanced at each other. Vernon opened his mouth and then closed it repeatedly, resembling a fish, but no voice spoke. Petunia sighed figuring she would be the one to answer.
"They did," she said, swallowing, "Vernon could never touch him if he meant to harm the boy. We found a loophole. Because we share the same blood-" She let off, not wishing to proceed after seeing the sad realization in his eyes.
"You can," he continued solemnly. Petunia concluded that he felt guilt or overlooking the details. As he rightly should, she thought though only out of routine. It was hard to feel as strongly as she used to.
The silence afterwards was immediately interrupted by the appearance of more wizards in uniform surrounding them. These must have been the aurors.
"Wands at the ready," the leader of them commanded. More wands were pointed directly at them. She hadn't thought it possible, but she was more scared and nervous.
Snape reappeared from the house, "Headmaster, what shall we do with their child?"
Now, Vernon regained his speech, "You better not lay one finger on him or I'll-"
A close auror jabbed her wand is his gut, cutting him off, "Tush, I don't think you're in a position to threaten anyone Mr. Dursley."
The Headmaster, as Snape had called him, said, "The court will have to decide, but since he is not in any immediate danger, we can leave him with Arabella for now."
"You know her?" Petunia asked; shocked Ms. Figg would associate with these men.
"Attach them," the leader said again.
As the command as given, she could feel the aurors grab her arms behind her. She listened as her husband struggled and watched the two men disappear, no doubt to where the boy currently as. She didn't even bother to listen as the wizarding police listed their rights.
All she could think about was Lily Potter.
Harry felt that he was regaining consciousness, but didn't dare to open his eyes. He'd rather just stay where he was until he thought of what his Aunt Petunia would say if he wasn't up to do his chores to help cook breakfast. He barely managed to suppress a shudder at the thought and that alone would get him willingly up.
However, he was mighty comfortable and for some reason, he felt much too weak. Perhaps his illness got worse. Yes, he decided he was feeling reckless and would risk it. He was just going to stay put on the mattress and-wait…mattress.
His room under the stairs didn't have room for one. That's why he slept on the rickety cot that was quite unpleasant to sleep on. His five year old mind went to work realizing that he wasn't in his cupboard. The shock alone made him open his green eyes knowing he couldn't be at the Dursleys.
The five year-old was correct in concluding so, but couldn't make anything out as he realized that he also wasn't wearing his glasses. He could tell that it appeared to be late as most of the room was dark except there was a source of light and warmth from his right. There were also two figures to the right which were still at first, but now were moving.
"Are you awake, Mr. Potter?" the one closest to him asked in a tone that reminded him of his own school's nurse. He could only gather that she was female and seemed to be wearing a lot of white. Though confused with the unfamiliarity, he shook his head slowly.
He stopped when he felt pained. Why did everything hurt?
Then he grimaced as he remembered what had occurred hours ago. He was not surprised at that turn of events as he even saw it coming, but he had no idea how that connected here. He had a feeling he was in a medical institution because the nurse started asking if he still hurt and he remarked that even though everything ached, he felt much better than earlier. Harry wondered why he was here because he knew no matter how the Dursleys would regret something, they would never send him somewhere to get better.
"Mr. Potter?" the nurse asked again, a bit frustrated at repeating her inquiry, "Does anything hurt still?" Harry hated to talk unless absolutely necessary because of his lisp and the embarrassment it caused him and his guardians, but since it ached him to nod…
"Yeth," he replied, "but I better now."
"Good," was the only reply. There was silence as he heard some clinking of glass.
He spoke, a bit shyly, "Where I be?"
"Hogwarts Hospital Wing," said another voice, "Here are your glasses; you must be blind as a bat right now." He felt the familiar glasses be put in his hands. He fumbled a little with them as his fingers were still a little pained, but eventually placed them in their correct position and instantly righted his vision.
Now that one of the voices and his sight affirmed it, he was in a new place. It was a large room made of stone with two rows of metal-frame beds lined against the walls, one of which he currently resided in. According to the window across him, it was dark outside and the light source to his right turned out to be a candle on the white bedside. The first voice belonged to a woman who wore a seemingly medieval costume of a nurse, looking upon a tray of glass vials filled with questionable liquids of sickly colors he didn't know any sort of liquid could be. The other voice, the one who had answered his question, was from another woman who looked as strict as her voice sounded. She looked like a witch that walked out of a fairy tale book. Had there been a costume party of some sort?
"Oh, honestly," the first murmured to her self, "I must have forgotten the potion in my office. Be right back." She disappeared through a door at the end of the room muttering about how she couldn't "accio" (whatever that meant) because of a stupid ward that prevented students from stealing "potions" (whatever those are). He directed his attention to the other woman.
"You must be very confused," she assumed and didn't wait for Harry to respond, "It's understandable that you have a lot of questions. Unfortunately, I am seeking for the same answers…" She sighed a little here. The nurse returned.
"Found it," she said, "Now drink this Potter. It'll ease the pain." Harry gave a concerned glance towards the other woman feeling the she could trust her for some reason.
"This is our school's nurse Mr. Potter. Her name is Madame Pomfrey," she introduced, "You are in very good hands." Harry made a face as he struggled finding how to say it.
"Its' fine dear," Madame Pomfrey patted him gently on the head so it wouldn't work, "We'll take care of name pronouncing later. Just drink this, it'll ease the pain." Harry obediently drank with a sour expression as the drink didn't taste very well, but he welcomed the instant numbing sensation.
"And you may call me Professor McGonagall," the other said. He wondered if everyone had long, hard names here.
"Where Aunt and Uncle?" Harry asked, a bit of panic at their reactions rising.
"Mr. Potter," the professor said quite sternly that it captured all of his attention immediately, "I do not know of what the future holds for you. We will have to wait until my employer and my colleague return, but I promise you that you will never, ever return to that miserable household again. I will personally see to it." She spat the word household with venom as though she doubted that it was. Harry relaxed feeling that he could trust these people, whoever they were.
"I think more rest is in order," the nurse said, "You'll feel much better in the morning." She returned to the bedside to pick up another vial. Hearing the word "rest" and agreeing since he felt tired, he started to take off his glasses. Then he spotted the stuffed lion that looked strangely familiar to him. He never was able to have a special toy of his own and always watched Dudley play with all of his longingly.
Seeing what he had an eye on, Professor McGonagall assured, "I believe it belongs to my employer, but I'm sure he would have no problems if you wish to use it. I daresay he's definitely outgrown use of it." Harry's eyes shined back happily at the witches and traded his glasses for the lion. Madame Pomfrey held drink anther potion that put him back to sleep.
It was quiet again as they watched the five year old cuddle with the toy.
"Did you hear how he speaks?" Poppy asked.
"Yes, I did," Minerva replied with a frown of anger at the Dursleys, "As long as he's here, I'm sure no one would object to teaching him how to speak properly." The nurse shook her head with agreement.
It was at that point of their conversation that a large bright light lit up the rest of the dark Hospital Wing. Both women looked away from Harry to see a small burst of fire.
"Fawkes?" the Transfiguration teacher asked.
It was a beautiful bird, bright red as the flames it originated from with gloriously long feathers. Fawkes, as it seemed to be called landed on Minerva's shoulder and dropped a slip of paper.
"I suppose they're back?" Poppy asked though rather needlessly. There was no other reason for the phoenix to visit.
"Yes, they request to see me," she answered, "Probably to explain everything. I'll be back soon hopefully." She swept out of the room with long strides.
Presently, Minerva was once again standing in front of the Headmaster's office. She knocked and the door swung open.
"There you are Minerva," Albus said looking at little weary. He sat at his desk obviously expecting her. The Potions Master stood with his back towards the door, but turned his attention around at the impending explanation.
"How is Potter?" Severus asked first.
"Broken leg, bruises, cuts, just generally in bad shape, and apparently he was sick at the time," she answered listing the conditions the nurse had said, "Mostly healed and is having a dreamless sleep as we speak." Severus nodded understandably. Albus did the same, but appeared a little disappointed.
"I had hope he sustained less than that, but it could have been far worse," the headmaster said and Minerva suppressed a shudder what could have happened if they hadn't stopped it, "Now is the time of explanation that we owe you."
The old man then stood too with a sigh and gestured towards the mechanism which earlier was spinning wildly, calmly whirled about.
"This is a rather useful device," he started, picking it up by its base, "I acquired it through my travels. It's for a very old charm you may have heard of." He opened the lid and the panel temporarily stilled. Within, Minerva spotted a red liquid.
"Blood," Severus chimed in, "Specifically, it's Potter's blood." McGonagall now understood why it took Hagrid so long to bring Harry to Privet Drive if they had to collect his blood.
"The purpose, I presume, is t show if the person in question is in danger," the woman looked in Albus's eyes for clarification. The Headmaster nodded satisfied, closing the lid. The panel continued it's slow course, as if it was never interrupted in the first place.
"It starts with the night Voldemort," Minerva tried her hardest not to flinch at the name while Albus talked, "decided to play the Potters a little visit. You, as a member of the Order remember the Prophecy."
"Yes...it was quite hard to forget," she said replaying the words in her memory. It was quite stunning to think that they small boy they had just rescued was indeed the one in the Prophecy. He certainly didn't look the part at the moment.
"We aren't sure of the exact details, but since James was found in the entryway, we assumed he died first trying to protect Lily and Harry while they ran upstairs."
In her mind, she could imagine the flurry of red hair as Lily rushed; Harry probably peacefully sleeping in her arms. It was easy to imagine the James boldly encountered the dark lord, he had a lot of bravery.
"Neither apparently had their wands on them," Severus scowled. Their unprepared-ness would have annoyed Mad-Eye Moody to no end.
"Nothing was definite, but I assume that Harry survived because of Lily's blood sacrifice," Albus finished, "It appeared I was correct. Have you heard of blood sacrifices before?"
The conversation had become too much for the Deputy. She had indeed recognized the ancient magic Lily relied upon. She wouldn't have ever thought that one innocent question the first year asked would ever amount to anything.
"What's wrong Minerva?" Albus inquired with concern. He hadn't expected the reaction of the woman collapsing into a chair with her hand over her heart.
"I…I had-her first year," she couldn't phrase it initially, shocked she had a part in that night, "She asked me about blood sacrifices. I never thought…" Though she broke off, both men understood her emotions.
"I had wondered," Severus reflected, "where she learned about this. It is uncommon knowledge."
"Thanks to you then," Albus said proudly looking at his deputy, "Little Harry lived that night."
"That's why you sent him to the Dursleys," Minerva concluded, the reason now making sense, "I'm sorry I gave you such a bother about it, I should have known."
"No, it appears you were correct after all. I'm afraid my attempt to see the good in people clouded my judgment of reason," the headmaster countered gravely, bringing the trip back to the reality of just why Harry was recovering.
"Which brings us to the Dursleys," as if the mere thought of them sickened Severus, he continued the topic, "I'll never understand what Lily saw in Petunia."
"Severus…"Albus warned the Potions Master of getting off-topic, "We have learned just now that the Dursleys have been neglecting him for a while. I had my suspicions of such…"
"How so?" Minerva asked.
"Arabella would see some evidence of it every once in a while. Despite Severus's attempts to persuade me otherwise, I had always thought that as long as he was safe, his safety mattered more in our uncertain world," he seemed rather ashamed of himself, "I had never predicted that they would go to such lengths."
"Any other questions?" Severus asked. All of hers were answered except…
"How come you didn't confide in me Albus?" Minerva questioned. The old man suddenly looked years older.
"I feel that I sometimes overburden you too much," he replied, "Originally, only I was to know, but Severus had made such an insistence of being apart of it." He broke of there leaving the sentence done though it felt that there was a little more. He gave Severus a glance to make eye contact, but he ignored it.
"The aurors now have the Dursleys," Severus added to keep Minerva up to speed, "Their son is with Arabella temporarily until they contact one of his relatives. What now for Potter's future?" The question struck Minerva speechless. The boy had no more living relatives except these muggles.
"No matter where he goes," the Deputy stated, "the blood protection will eventually wear off." The fact led all three of them to stare at the artifact in question. It still spun there forth indicating it was still working. They knew it was only because Harry still considered Number 4 Privet Drive his home. There was no telling how long that would last.
"I suppose I'll contact Remus Lupin," Albus said in deep thought, "I think that's what James and Lily would wanted."
"However, involving his condition," Severus brought up, "it's difficult for him to keep a stable situation isn't it?" Minerva wished she could defend her former student, but it was true. The poor werewolf was always losing his job and place when his employer or landlord would find out his secret.
"Very true," Albus said, "but whom else?" A thought came to Minerva.
"Did you say the aurors were involved?" she clarified. Both stared at her as they realized where she was going. Severus closed his eyes in frustration.
"The stupid Ministry is going to try to meddle, aren't they?" Severus ranted. Scenarios of different offers of adoption from multiple people from the Ministry filled their minds.
"Unfortunately," the headmaster confirmed, "Fudge and his followers would be crazy not to. That is why I'm hoping that we get him situated with an adult as soon as possible so the Ministry cannot interfere." The two nodded in agreement.
The question remained though. Who?
Author's Note: Sorry it's been awhile. Been busy. I'll try to make this short and sweet since I've noticed some people don't read my notes.
It's a bit of a slow chapter. The chapter is just to introduce Harry to Minerva, the explanation, and give a look to what the next part of the story will be like.
I might write some more soon because of the whole "best friend is moving" and since a birth in my family is done, it'll be slower.
Again, PLEASE point out any spelling and grammar mistakes. I've edited the past chapters again and caught lots. Thank you 10th Weasley again. (Yes, if you point stuff out, I will credit you over and over).
Have a great summer.
EDIT: Now I've just heard that my best friend is now in the hospital which she was just in a few months ago. She has been getting really high blood sugar which is bad because she's diabetic and she threw up here yesterday. Whatever religion you practice, please pray she'll get better. What annoys me though is that since my uncle is mad at my mom, we had to heard through an indirect source. Because of the adult's childish arguing, I probably won't be able to visit her.
What I'm also concerned about that right after she gets out, they'll start traveling. They're traveling by car all the way to Missouri from California using a trail that's 1,600 miles. What if she needs to go to the hospital again out on the road? There's no way I'll be informed. Drama, drama, drama.