Chapter Fifteen

In The Hospital Wing

"I'm fine."

"Mr. Potter-"

"Look!" Harry said, standing up from his seat on the hospital bed and doing a little twirl for her, "All in one piece. No injuries whatsoever. Can I go now, please?"

That wasn't exactly true, there was a gash on the back of his neck, a few cuts on his face and his shirt was ripped and stained bloody. Harry had never been one for hospitals though and after avoiding them for much of his life, was restless to leave this one. He just had to get past the bull-headed matron.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips.

"You'll go when I say you can go Mr. Potter," she said curtly, "Now get into that bed!"

Harry's mouth twitched, but he bit his tongue and sat back on the bed; he refused to lie down though, just sat there with his legs dangling off the side. Ron was unconscious in the bed next to him, a gash on his forehead newly bandaged and cleaned, though that wasn't the reason for his un-waking state. Madam Pomfrey had dosed him almost immediately upon entering the hospital wing. Harry had point blank refused to take anything until he could see his parents, or Professor Dumbledore, or Sirius or…well someone who wasn't trying to knock him out for his own good.

Madam Pomfrey just gave an irritated click of her tongue and started fussing around another student. This one was actually injured though with her arm hanging loosely in a sling. Harry recognised her as Cho Chang, the Seventh Year Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She was awfully pretty, he decided, even with her raven hair dishevelled and her one almond shaped eye swollen and puffy. He looked away from her quickly though when she noticed him, his cheeks heating a little bit.

Had she smiled at him?

"Before you start drooling, you should know she has a boyfriend," said an amused voice beside him and Harry turned to find Hermione had come to sit next to him on the bed.

"I wasn't-" he started to protest, but she stopped him.

"I'm just teasing you," she grinned, though it faded a little when she cast a worried glance at Ron, "Is he-"

"He's fine," Harry said, "Madam Pomfrey gave him something, knocked him out immediately."

Hermione nodded. He noticed her own arm was wrapped up and rose an enquiring eyebrow.

"Just a small break," she explained, scratching the bandage a little, "Madam Pomfrey says it will take another hour to completely heal. But it does itch!"

He grinned a little at her tone and she looked back at him, her face taking on a worried look.

"How are you?" she asked carefully.

They both knew what she was really asking about.

"My magic's still not working," he said with a defeated sigh. He felt like his heart had been wrenched out of his chest, just saying it was like admitting defeat. Everything that had happened to him over the past few months had happened because he had found his magic. Now, he felt empty.

He didn't even realise there had been something in there filling him up, hadn't even noticed that presence.

Until it was gone.

Over the last couple of hours, he had thought if he could just reach out far enough, he could touch it, but it was like grasping air.


"Oh Harry," Hermione said softly, pulling him into a hug, "We'll fix it. There has to be a way."

"What if there's not?" he asked, his voice was almost sickeningly calm, "What if it's gone…forever?"

She drew back and looked him right in the eye. Harry felt momentarily surprised, it was rare to see this kind of fire in the bushy haired bookworm.

"I don't believe that," she said in a voice that brook no argument, "And neither should you. I've never heard of anyone who lost their magic for good. It'll come back Harry, it will."

He swallowed hard, he didn't feel any better about it, but he tried to smile reassuringly.

"Thanks Mione," he sighed softly.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something more, but at that moment the Hospital Wing door burst open and a short man in a bowler hat came striding in like he owned the place, followed closely by Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Sirius, Harry's father and a red haired man that looked oddly familiar.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore was saying in his calm, soothing manner, "This really isn't the place-"

"I want to know what happened and I want to know what happened now!" the man was turning as red as a Weasley's hair.

"Who is that?" Harry whispered to Hermione as every eye in the Hospital Wing turned to watch the scene.

"It's Cornelius Fudge," she explained breathlessly, surprised by the man's appearance, "He's the Minister for Magic!"

Harry frowned.

Why was the Minister here?

"Merlin, Fudge!" James Potter exclaimed, "This is a Hospital Wing, do you want to bring Poppy down on us?"

Sirius visibly shuddered.

But Fudge wasn't listening.

"I want answers Potter!" he practically spat, "And hopefully from a more reliable source than your Aurors! Now let me talk to someone who was really there!"

Hermione looked aghast hearing this from the Minister of all people and James Potter immediately opened his mouth to reprimand Fudge, but Harry beat him to the punch.

"We were there," he said, loud enough to be heard clearly in the room, his eyes narrowing, "The students were attacked by Death Eaters and werewolves. The Aurors saved us all. Now please stop yelling, there are sick and injured people in here."

He kept his voice steady, the anger and irritation deftly hidden behind it. He hardly noticed Sirius hiding a smile behind his hand, or Hermione's abashed look. His eyes were focused on the Minister. Fudge seemed to be going redder, his mouth gaping like a fish.

"Like my son said Minister," James said just as calmly, "Ask anyone here and they'll tell you the same thing."

"Y-your son?" suddenly Fudge's eyes were focused on Harry's forehead.

"Yes," the smile on James' face did not reach his eyes, "Harry, my son. You remember, don't you?"

If looks could kill, James Potter's would do a treat. Harry was momentarily confused by the obvious animosity between the two men. The way in which his father had spoken surprised him. Never had he heard contempt in James' voice.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said softly, "It is as I've told you, as the Aurors have told, as many of the witnesses of the attack have told you. Death Eaters marched tonight and they marched under orders."

"Under orders?" the Minister repeated incredulously, "Now see here Dumbledore-"

"Perhaps this is best discussed elsewhere, Minister," Sirius put in, looking meaningfully around the room, "This is not the best place-"

But Fudge seemed to be on his own rampant.

"Werewolves attacked," he said, "And from what I hear you've been keeping one here without Ministry approval Dumbledore. How do we know Lupin didn't lead these attacks?"

A deadly silence fell across the Hospital Wing as every conscious student was now staring openly at the Minister. Harry's eyes were wide in both shock and realisation, everything he knew about his professor suddenly clicking into place. The unexplained illnesses, his exhaustion, heck, even his Marauder name. He glanced at Hermione, only to find her glaring angrily at the Minister, something akin to hate in her eyes.

Could she have known?

She wasn't the only one glaring though. Sirius and James were doing an even better job of it, and besides that, nothing could compare to the icy look McGonagall had for the Minister.

"I have known him since he was a student here," she practically hissed at Fudge, "And he would never-"

"How can you be so sure?" Fudge almost had a triumphant look on his face, "He's a werewolf after all."

Harry felt Hermione's hand on his arm and noticed for the first time that he had leapt to his feet, fists clenched. He also noticed that his father was doing the same thing for Sirius. His face was expressionless, but James Potter was definitely shaking with anger.

"Potter!" Fudge continued, "I want Lupin brought in for questioning, immediately. Understood?"

James' jaw was tight and he seemed to be speaking through clenched teeth when he said;

"Yes Minister."

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Why weren't they telling the Minister what really happened? Why were they laying the blame on Lupin? This wasn't fair! A voice in the back of his head implored with him to remember what his father had cautioned him about revealing what had in fact happened.

'The Ministry won't like the news and after what happened in the last war, I wouldn't put it past the higher ups to try and ignore it,' James Potter had said grimly as they approached the school, 'When you're in Hogwarts again, try not to mention it just yet. At least until after we've had a chance to back up the claim.'

But Harry, being who he was, ignored the voice.

"You're wrong!" he yelled, almost snarling, "It wasn't Professor Lupin! It was Voldemort!"

The entire room was met with a silence unlike any other; if the revelation about Lupin had been shocking, than what Harry had just blurted out was a lot worse. Harry resisted the urge to clamp his hand over his mouth, realising too late that this probably wasn't the time or place to tell the Minister. The man in question was staring at him and, for a brief moment, Harry felt completely satisfied with the situation.

"You've hit your head, boy," Fudge said shakily, "You-Know-Who is dead! You're confused!"

Harry blinked, having not expected the answer.

"But it was him!" he protested hotly.

Fudge turned to James.

"You should have him checked out at St. Mungo's," he told the man, "He's clearly been confounded-"

"I haven't-," Harry felt the sharp pinch Hermione gave him and the warning looks of the adults around him, "I mean-that is to say-a man attacked me and he told me his name was Voldemort."

Harry didn't look away from the Minister, if he had, he might have seen the glimmer of understanding dance across his Headmaster's face.

"Mr. Potter," the Minister spluttered angrily, "It is impossible, utterly impossible for You-Know-Who to have returned."

"Speaking frankly Minister," Harry said testily, gaining more confidence in his half lie, "I have never met Vol- You-Know-Who before, at least not that I can remember, but the man I met in Hogsmeade claimed to be him."

"Claimed?" Fudge's eyes widened remarkably, "That's a little far fetched-"

"But that is what happened," Harry continued hotly, his mind jumping for an explanation that would convince the Minister, "He tried to kill me sir, so I think I would remember quite clearly everything he said and besides, whether or not he was in fact Voldemort is besides the point; he claims he is and that makes him dangerous. Especially if the Death Eaters are following him. Impostor or real, you should take him as a serious threat. He might be using the name to gather support for himself."

The Minister looked aghast and then Hermione put in.

"And if he is, sir," she said clearly, "Then it might give previous supporters of You-Know-Who an excuse to carry on his work. It's foolish to believe that just because one dark wizard has fallen, another will not try to take his place."

Harry looked at his father, trying to let him know he was sorry and he now understood why they hadn't mentioned it before, but the man's face was already shadowed with understanding. He gave his son a small smile.

"Harry is correct, Minister," James continued, "When I reached my son, he had been attacked by someone who looked remarkably like Voldemort. You are more than welcome to look at my memory in a Pensieve, if you need convincing."

There was something in James' face that just said he enjoyed making the Minister squirm, and squirm he did. Fudge looked like he had been punched in the face. Harry almost felt sorry for the man, almost.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore, the Dumbledore, kind and forgiving headmaster of Hogwarts, was now speaking with a warning bite in his tone, "Let us move this discussion to my office. I believe you have disturbed my students more than enough for one night. If you carry on, I will have to ask you leave the castle."

Luckily, Fudge seemed to be rational enough to realise the spot he'd put himself in. The Minister went red in the face, all glimpse of triumph over his quick accusation gone. He coughed loudly and nodded, practically scrambling from the room.

Harry decided then and there that he didn't like the Minister for Magic one bit.

Really, what kind of an idiot made accusations he couldn't back up in front of students?

A powerful one, that annoying voice in his head said, and an influential one.

Harry pursed his lips at the thought.

"I don't think you've made a friend there, Harry," Hermione whispered, watching them leave.

"Fine by me," Harry murmured back, not willing to consider what the consequences of this incident meant.

He noticed the stares, everyone in the Hospital Wing was looking at him like he had grown a second head. He swallowed hard and took a seat back on the bed, trying not to meet anyone's gaze. He had the feeling he had spoken far too soon.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and realised Sirius had not left the room. He gave his godfather an apologetic look to which the Auror just smiled comfortingly.

"I know this all pretty stressful," he said in a low voice, "And that was a nice save, but you need to keep calm. We're not going to let anything happen to Remus."

Harry just nodded.

"I'll come get you later," Sirius said comfortingly, clapping Harry on the back, "Just take it easy and let Poppy do her job. There's a couple of extra things you need to be tested for."

Harry swallowed hard, nodding again.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Understandable," Sirius suddenly grinned, "Now, try to keep out of trouble, okay?"

"Okay," Harry breathed.

Sirius nodded, then motioned to Hermione approvingly as he made his way out.

"Nice work Hermione," he said, "Quick thinking there."

Hermione blushed a little, but nodded at the compliment.

"Thanks," she said softly.

After Sirius left, Harry found himself face to face with Madam Pomfrey once more, she was holding out a goblet to him, an expectant look on her stern face. Harry frowned and took the drink from her, pulling a face as she walked away to the next patient. He cast a glance at Hermione, who just shrugged.

"I really hate hospitals," Harry muttered, downing the putrid liquid in one gulp.


Lily arrived at Hogwarts feeling anxious and more than a little terrified. The message she had received from James had not been a pleasant one and all she wanted to do at that moment was find her family and keep them close until she could feel more sure of herself. Her visit to St. Matthews was still playing in the back of her head, she had intended at first to confront Harry after discussing it with James. Now it would have to be delayed only further given the incident at Hogsmeade.

She couldn't believe this was happening again; she remembered the first attack she had ever been in. It had happened at Hogsmeade too, during her Seventh Year.

Little had she known then, that experience was the first of three that would land her family in line with the Prophecy.

Her heels clicked on the marble floors of the Great Hall, there were students everywhere, all whispering amongst themselves. She didn't pay them much mind as she headed straight up the stair case. Her appearance seemed to draw a few looks of curiosity, but no one did anything more than that.


She stopped and turned, her eyes immediately falling on Professor Flitwick. She couldn't resist the small smile that found its way onto her lips. The Charms teacher had been her own professor when she was a student , as well as an old friend.

"Professor," she greeted warmly, "It's good to see you."

"Were it under better circumstances," the small man smiled sadly, "I hope James and Harry are alright, they were in Hogsmeade?"

Lily nodded.

"I was just headed up to the Hospital Wing," she acknowledged, "I've been told Harry sustained a few minor injuries."

"Ah," Flitwick nodded, "Would you like some company?"


They headed up the staircases together, the higher they climbed, the fewer students they saw. Though Lily's worry was troubling her, she listened with relief to her old teacher talk about his students.

"…Allison appears quite adept with her Charm work," he was saying happily, "She's been picking up spells almost as quickly as you did. Though Harry, I have to admit, was the fastest I have ever seen."

"Oh?" Lily's curiosity peaked.

"He nailed most of his spells first time round," Flitwick said cheerily, "I thought it truly extraordinary that a boy who grew up with absolutely no magical exposure turned out so adept."

Lily blinked several times. She had never been informed of Harry's early progress in his magical learning. She had been told he had picked up things quickly, but to perfect them on his first try? That was peculiar. She remembered the questions raised about his Patronus, though Remus had been the only one to see it.

"Is that odd?" she asked Flitwick, "That he's picked it up so quickly?"

"Odd?" Flitwick looked thoughtful, "I shouldn't think so. His magical core may just be more powerful than others. Sometimes, power can supplement skill."

Lily rose an eyebrow, making the short professor blush.

"Not that I'm saying the boy is all brawn and no brains," he amended quickly, "Quite the opposite, but it is one of the reasons he could have been picking these things up so quickly. You have to remember Lily, wizards and witches are constantly training their cores to release the right amount of magic per spell. That is why we practice."

Lily just smiled, the lesson was something Flitwick had given to her back in her First Year when she had first shown an aptitude for Charms. Not many wizards were interested in exactly how their magic worked, just that it did.

"And I'm sure you've told many students that over the years," she chuckled.

"Surprisingly," the Charms Professor said thoughtfully, "Very few are interested in learning about the core, the last one to ask me was…hmmm…I believe it was Miss Granger."

"Harry's friend?" she asked, she remembered the bushy haired girl from when she had just found Harry, he also mentioned her in his letters. He claimed, in fact, that she was probably the smartest person he had ever met. Lily found herself hoping to have a conversation with the girl one of these days.

"Why yes," Flitwick smiled, "I do believe she is one of the brightest students I have ever taught, much like you. Truly brilliant, but…"


"She has been rather reticent the past couple of years," Flitwick looked a little sad, "When she first arrived here she was so involved in every aspect of the lesson, then for a while I had to coax things out of her. Lately though, she seems to have gained back some of her confidence, it's been slow, but I'm happy to say that your son has become one of the factors bringing her out of her shell."

"I'm glad," Lily said, feeling proud.

The continued on in silence, Lily consumed by her own thoughts and feeling too distracted to carry on the conversation. Flitwick seemed to read her mind, for he willingly kept the comfortable silence.

Reaching the Hospital Wing, both were surprised to hear a loud exclamation of distaste.

"What did you put in there?!" a familiar voice exclaimed loudly, "That was not a Pepper Up potion!"

The self satisfied voice of none other than Madam Pomfrey answered.

"Well if you stopped squirming, Mr. Potter, and allowed me to run my tests, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Approaching the door, Lily could now hear Harry's voice, softer and drowsier than before.

"You're enjoying this way too much."

Lily opened the door to see her son being laid out on a bed, his eyes already drooping. He blinked when he noticed her enter and gave a lopsided smile.

"Hey Mum!" his voice slurred a little, "Sorry, can't talk right now. She drugged me."

His hand flopped in the direction of Madam Pomfrey before falling heavily. His eyes closed and his breath became even. The Matron clicked her tongue, a soft look coming into her eyes though, and removed his glasses. She drew the covers over him, waving her wand to transfigure his torn clothes into a pair of pyjamas and set about cleaning a few cuts and gashes on his skin.

Lily blinked several times, torn between the urge to laugh at her son's aversion to Poppy helping him, or worried that he needed to be sedated for tests. James' message had said harry was fine! She noticed a bushy haired young girl watching from the bed beside Harry's. There was someone else in the bed, red hair poked up from beneath a blanket. The girl, Hermione Granger Lily realised, sat on the corner, her gaze flitting between Harry and the red haired boy frequently.

Lily smiled when Hermione looked up in surprise.

"Mrs. Potter!" she exclaimed, leaping off the bed nervously, "Professor Flitwick!"

"Hello Hermione," Lily said, proud to have remembered the name to the face, especially when a pleased look came onto the girl's face, she then turned to Madam Pomfrey, "How is Harry?"

The Matron gave a huff.

"Worse than James," she said, her voice bellying her words, "He'll be fine, just a few minor cuts and bruises."

She looked like she wanted to say more.

"I'll be seeing to my students," Flitwick excused himself, strolling over to one of the beds.

Madame Pomfrey gestured for Lily to follow her to her office, shutting the door curtly behind them. She offered Lily a seat, but she refused it, preferring to stand and uncertain of the news Pomfrey was about to give her. Poppy had been around since Lily was a school girl, though back then she had just finished her medical training and was helping the Hogwarts matron of the time. Still, she had always been a firm woman, sympathetic to her patients, but as stern as stone when she needed to be.

"Harry has suffered more than just a few bumps and bruises," the matron said slowly, her voice a practiced mix of empathy and firmness.

Lily's head jerked up worriedly, her brow furrowing.

Pomfrey continued.

"At some point during the course of the evening Harry lost access to his magic," she paused, "There…appears to be no external cause nor does he present with the basic signs of magical exhaustion. I gave him a sedative to be sure though."

Lily swallowed hard, nodding her understanding. Magical exhaustion was rare, but dangerous. The only cure for it was sleep and plenty of replenishing potions. If the body was over stressed whilst it's magic was drained, it could lead to serious side effects; coma, paralysis or even death.

"Then how…?" Lily trailed off, hoping for an explanation.

"Until I have completed a full diagnostic, there is no way to be certain," Madam Pomfrey supplied, "But I do not think it is any kind of spell, at least not one I have ever heard of. Unfortunately, being able to accurately analyse magical levels in the body is still an unrefined art."

Lily was stunned. Of all the news she had expected to hear, her son not being able to do magic was the least expected. In a funny way, she was relieved. This was something she and Madam Pomfrey could figure out. If it had been something more…final, she shuddered to think of what she had been imagining when Pomfrey lead her into the office.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, half to the matron and half in prayer, "It is alright if I sit by him whilst you run the tests?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, opening the door to the office once more. She cast Lily a stern glance, before bustling out and striding right over to Harry's bed, her wand already out. Hermione gave a start at her approach and was told in no uncertain terms to stay out of the matron's way. Lily caught her pleading look and gently placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.

Hermione gave a start, turning wide brown eyes on Lily.

"I'm going to be staying while Harry is tested," she said softly, "Will you sit with me for bit? I'd like someone to talk to."

She was pleased when Hermione gave an eager nod.


Ally didn't hear immediately about the attack on Hogsmeade. Most of the students who had been involved were either in the Hospital Wing, or being questioned by Aurors. She and Mickey had sat in the Common Room for what seemed like hours, just talking. Her mind was still roving over the tale Mickey had relayed, about her dad's disappearance and her uncle's involvement with the Death Eaters.

The way Ally had been brought up, it seemed like the war had ended as soon as Voldemort disappeared, she had never considered there had been a backlash years afterwards. She had heard, of course, of the many trials held in the wake of the dark wizards defeat, but she had never bothered to ask much further than that. All she had known, all any young wizard or witch knew growing up, was that her parents had lived in a dark, terrible time for the wizarding world, but that it was over.

She wondered now if it really was.

Even if it was indirectly, Voldemort's reign of terror all those years ago was still haunting the edges of Mickey's life. She supposed it did hers too. How many others had been effected? And, why was it so hard to move past from? These things hadn't even happened in her life time, yet every facet of her life seemed to revolve around that point in the past. Even though her parents had tried to make her upbringing as normal and happy as possible, anywhere they went in the wizarding world, they were followed by Harry's survival that night all those years ago.

Ally would always be Harry Potter's little sister, the second child, the Boy-Who-Lived's sibling. She'd had the label her whole life. People used to come up and shake her hand because of it, always saying she must be so proud of her big brother, where ever he was.

She was proud though, perhaps not when they came up to her, but after meeting Harry, after talking to him and getting to know him, she could admit that she was proud.

Proud to be Harry Potter's baby sister.

But that was mostly because her big brother was awesome.

At this point, Nick came barging into the Common Room.

"Ally!" he yelled frantically, coming right up to her, "Harry's in the Hospital Wing!"

Allison Potter blinked twice before leaping up.

"What!" she exclaimed, "What for?!"

"There was an attack on Hogsmeade," the green haired boy rushed to explain, dancing from foot to foot, "That's all I know! Chang fell off her broom and I helped take her up to the Hospital Wing with the Ravenclaws and-and I saw Harry being taken in and-"

He carried on, blabbing about what he'd seen before rushing to tell Ally what had happened. Ally exchanged a glance with Mickey, the blonde girl was sitting up straighter, her blue eyes wide as saucers.

"Who'd attack Hogsmeade?" she gaped.

Nick shrugged, but a troubled look crossed his face and his lips pursed a little. His eyes seemed to darken too.

Ally didn't give it much thought as she rushed to the portrait hole.

The way up to the Hospital Wings seemed to take forever. It was like every staircase had decided to move, every portrait was visiting another, and every student was crowding the hallways. She didn't know if Nick and Mickey had followed her out of the Common Room, all she wanted to do was get to Harry.

It was funny, she mused to herself, how much she had come to care for her older brother in just a few short months. In a lot of ways, she had always loved him, but this was different. She now felt like she knew Harry Potter, even if it was just a little. Hearing he was injured had burned right through her, a million images of what was wrong with him flying into her mind.

If there was one thing she had learned about her brother, it was that he was reckless. Punching out boys twice his size and battling Death Eaters when he hardly knew any magic were the kinds of things she had come to expect from Harry Potter. She admired him for it. And she worried about him because of it.

She had always considered herself more like her father than her mother, always wanted to be so. It wasn't that she liked her mother any less, but there were just qualities about her dad that she wanted to have. Her dad was a brave prat, stern, but also funny. He was the ultimate protector, easy in any situation and completely and utterly reckless.

Now she knew what her mother felt like all the time.

She wasn't like her father or her brother in that respect, for all the differences she could see in them, they were both fundamentally like that. The kind of men who would do just about anything to help someone.

Even if it meant putting themselves at risk.

It terrified her.

What had he done this time? What if it was something really bad? What if someone had hurt him? What if he'd gotten in the way of a really bad curse?

Not Harry!

She dashed through the Hospital Wing doors, spotted her mother and launched herself at her. Then she saw Harry unconscious on the bed and after hearing the many assurances that he was going to be alright, she finally started to cry. Big, fat tears of relief travelled down her cheeks and she sobbed into Lily's robes, not caring for the eyes of any of the older students. She didn't care that her mom was trying to hush her, she didn't care that Hermione was shooting her a sympathetic look.

Because Harry was safe.


A/N: So, not quite as abandoned as you thought. You can all shoot me later. I'll admit I've had a lot of reservations about whether or not to continue this story. Mostly because A LOT of the ideas and planning I did was when I was in high school and now, I suppose, looking at it again, it all feels a bit silly to me. I considered just rewriting the whole thing, but to be honest I don't have the energy to do so. I might start severely editing previous chapters, but for now I have decided to keep writing this story in the spirit of when I started it. So my warning; prepare yourselves for horribly AU concepts involving how magic functions, astral projection, transfiguration gone wrong and so much more!

Hmm, you know what? I think I'm going to enjoy writing the rest of this. This story has moved away from what I originally intended to write, which was going to be Harry adjusting to his new family. In hindsight, I think sending him to Hogwarts was a bad idea if I wanted to go in that direction (so was introducing Voldemort), but now I have Where We Only Cry From Joy to do all the emotional, family stuff in. This one I'm just going to have fun with.

~Southern Hearts~