Harry kicked at a tin can that was rolling along the gutter as he ambled slowly up the street. He was moving slower and slower with every step as if he could stave off the inevitable by going so slowly he would never get there. However, as he drew level with Number Four, Harry knew he had only been putting off the confrontation he knew was coming. There was no ignoring the incessant nudge his conscience was getting. The tin can rolled away suddenly, making a hollow sound as it rolled halfway into the road and stopped there, rolling back and forth as if pulled by invisible strings on both sides, like two formless fairies were playing tug-o-war.

He saw the curtain in Number Four twitch as he started up the path to the front door. He paused. Harry knew that if he did not do this now, now that he was here, he would never do it. There was a definite appeal in that course of action. He could turn around, go back to where he came from and never return. Harry sighed heavily and trudged the last few steps up onto the porch and rang the front doorbell.

He looked down at the pristine doormat under his feet. The word WELCOME was plastered across the bristly surface but Harry had never felt so unwelcome in all his life. He studied the tiling on the doorstep. He’d been left here. Hagrid had brought him here. Hagrid had taken him away from here. He didn’t want to come back here. The memories weren’t pleasant and of all the things the Death Eaters had done they couldn’t manage the one thing he would have gladly thanked them for: annihilating this place.

Harry clutched the plastic shopping bag in his left hand tighter and stared at a small, circular hole drilled neatly into the door frame. No, not drilled, nailed. It was a nail hole. After all this time there was still a hole where a nail had forced it’s way to the outside when Uncle Vernon had nailed the door shut to stop his Hogwarts letter getting in. Harry reached out to touch it but pulled his hand back abruptly as the door jerked open. Aunt Petunia stood on the other side, her face paler than he had ever seen it and her eyes darting about frantically.

“What are you doing?” she hissed at him. “Get inside before someone sees you!”

“Is Dudley here?” Harry asked instead.

“Yes,” Aunt Petunia answered quickly. “Now get off that doorstep!”

“Can I see him?” asked Harry shortly.

“What for?”

“He’s my cousin,” said Harry plainly, “and I would like to see him.” Aunt Petunia huffed and turned towards the interior of the house.

“Dudders!” she called sweetly, because the door was still open and her voice could be heard by Mrs Pennington who was sitting in her lounge room at Number Two, with her head out the window. “You have a visitor!” Harry heard Dudley grumble and then a noise like a herd of wildebeest as Dudley thumped out of his bedroom and along the upstairs corridor. Footsteps thudded like drum beats, punctuating his every word as he plodded down the stairs.

“What?” Dudley called. “What is it now, woman?” Harry stifled a smirk. Aunt Petunia pressed her lips into a line so thin her bloodless lips vanished entirely.

“Harry is here,” she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, looking extremely unladylike. Dudley nearly tripped as he ran down the remaining stairs and pushed his mother aside as he reached the doorway. He reached out a beefy arm and pulled Harry inside into a brief one-armed hug. Harry stood on the hall runner as stiff as a board and in more than a little shock at Dudley’s actions.

“I’ve been asking Deddie about you for months!” he exclaimed, carelessly banging the door shut, making Aunt Petunia wince.

“Deddie?” asked Harry, bemused.

“Yeah,” shrugged Dudley. “Dedalus is a bit … well … it’s a bit of an odd name.”

“I just wanted to come and let you know that … it’s finished,” said Harry. “But yeah, you know that, huh, seeing as you’re back here and … not in hiding any more.” Dudley nodded vigorously.

“Was a right creepy house we were in, full of other magical refugees and that,” said Dudley. “Reckon it had rooms without doors and doors without rooms.”

“Completely unnatural,” muttered Aunt Petunia.

“Oh come on you liked that Chumley woman,” said Dudley rolling his eyes. Harry stiffened at the way Dudley so casually threw the name out.

“Well she was normal wasn’t she,” sniffed Aunt Petunia. “Nothing hocus-pocus about her.”

“Good kids though,” said Dudley, “although that older one was stuck up a bit.” Harry turned away so Dudley couldn’t see his smirk. His eyes fell on a photograph sitting on the tiny hall table. It was one he had never seen before. He was used to pictures of the fat, blond baby in bobbled hats and garish jumpers but this one was of two little girls. It was black and white, cracked and yellowing. The older child was unmistakably Aunt Petunia with the same horsey face, all angles. The chubby baby sitting next to her had wispy curls on her head and big eyes that matched her laughing smile as she clutched a tiny teddy bear. Harry reached out a hand to the photograph and jumped, snatching his hand back as if scalded when Aunt Petunia spoke.

“We found that in the house,” she said quietly. Harry looked up.

“Deddie’s really smart,” chimed in Dudley. “He made it so we could see it. Dad didn’t come of course, said it was all a bunch of hokey-pokey, but me and Mum went.”

“Went where?” asked Harry in a strangled voice, staring at the picture.

“That house where your mum and dad got … er, where you lived as a baby,” stammered Dudley.

“When did you go there?” Harry asked in a hollow voice as he stared at the baby picture of his mother in a gilt frame on his aunt’s hall table.

“Oh … maybe, about six weeks ago,” said Dudley, he looked as if he were thinking hard. Harry wondered if Dudley was about to strain himself.

“Why?” blurted Harry. He was reeling and didn’t know what to make of this sort of information and he wanted so badly to pick that photograph up and leave.

“I expect because Dudley wouldn’t leave him alone,” said Aunt Petunia in a tight voice. “Unnatural fascination …”

“I wanted to know what happened,” said Dudley. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet nervously. “Gilbert, that’s the little Chumley kid, good kid he is, he reckoned you was a hero told me a bunch of stories and … have you been there?” Harry nodded.

“At Christmas,” he whispered in a strangled tone.

“There was a drawer,” said Dudley, glancing at his mother. “It was hanging open and I could see this sort of yellowy square hanging out of it. It was an envelope and it had that photo in it.” Dudley indicated the picture on the hall table.

“So you took it?” asked Harry coldly, turning on Aunt Petunia suddenly.

“I-I didn’t have any of her any more,” Aunt Petunia stammered. “I burnt them all.” Harry glared at her.

“That house is not yours and it’s your own fault if you burnt them,” he said slowly and deliberately. “You had no right to even go there.” Aunt Petunia refused to look at him and fixed her eyes on a picture of Dudley in his Smeltings uniform hanging on the wall behind his head.

“Harry,” said Dudley quietly. Harry turned to look at him. Dudley was holding a large, thick parchment envelope in his hand. The door to the cupboard under the stairs was swinging gently. Harry hadn’t even seen him go in there. Dudley extended the parchment envelope to Harry, who took it with a shaking hand.

“There’s another one in there,” he said. Harry wrestled with his plastic shopping bag to peer inside the envelope. A bundle of photographs, creased and yellow with age, nestled in the corner of the envelope. Harry took a deep breath and closed it again before putting the envelope in his shopping bag. He wasn’t going to look at them there, standing inhospitably in the hallway with Aunt Petunia looking as though she’d rather swallow a whole lemon and Dudley looking … friendly.

“Thanks,” he murmured, looking for a way out, wishing that he’d never come; while at the same time almost feeling the envelope burning a hole through the shopping bag and knowing it held some great treasure he knew he wanted more than anything.

“Vernon will be home any minute,” Aunt Petunia said suddenly. She wanted him to leave and the feeling was mutual so Harry took a step back towards the door.

“I, erm, thank you,” he said stiffly. “I’ll um, if I … ah when I …”

“It was good to see you, Harry,” said Dudley quietly. “Deddie reckons you’ve got lots to keep you busy and all, so um if you get the chance to send a letter or two ... well I’ll be at Police College but Mum’ll be able to send ‘em on.”

“Police College?” asked Harry, one eyebrow raised. Dudley nodded enthusiastically.

“I got to talking to Deddie and some fellow he brought around sometimes,” he said animatedly. “Reckon he was some sort of Law Enforcement. Really helped me sort out what I want to do with my life, you know. I sat the entrance exam in July, start next week up at Hendon. I’m going to be a Bobbie, Harry!” Dudley seemed to be bouncing on his toes excitedly. Harry stared at him for a moment before nodding his head.

“Well congratulations then, Dudley,” he said. “I um … had better get going. Um, thanks.”

“Oh hey, Harry,” Dudley said as he reached to open the door, “d’you reckon you could send some of those flavour beans, erm, next time you get a chance? Absolutely brilliant those are. I mean, chocolate frogs are nice and all but the jumping is a little creepy.” Harry nodded dumbly as he stepped onto the porch.

“I’ll see you later then,” he said, standing on the doormat. Harry could see Uncle Vernon’s car turning into the street. It was a new car, probably a company car, but it was immensely shiny and Harry could see his Uncle’s massive bulk taking up space behind the wheel. No one else was out on Privet Drive, the sun was sinking and it was getting cold.

“Yeah I’ll send you a postcard from Hendon, if I can figure out how to get me hands on an Owl!” said Dudley cheerfully. Harry looked past him to Aunt Petunia and the photo on the little hall table and made a decision.

“Thanks Big D,” Harry smiled before throwing a cheeky grin at his Aunt and turning on the spot, Disapparating just as Uncle Vernon pulled into the driveway. Harry arrived at the Burrow chuckling and strolled up to the back door. He was just about to open it when someone inside yanked it open and glared at him fiercely. Harry’s smile faltered.

“Hello Bill,” he said warily.

“Where have you been?” questioned Bill. “It’s been hours since we were at the Ministry!” Harry shrugged.

“I went out,” he said evasively. Bill eyed him suspiciously but kept silent. He stepped back so that Harry could come inside. Harry edged inside warily and Bill shut the door behind him. The kitchen was warm and smelled inviting.

“Harry!” cried Molly from where she was stirring something on the stove. She hurried over and grasped his arms, looking intently into his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” answered Harry, drawing his brows together.

“When you didn’t turn up this afternoon, Andromeda fire-called,” Molly said. “Ron and Arthur have gone to look for you.”

“I’ll just send Dad and Ron a Patronus, let them know you came home,” said Bill. Harry saw that Bill’s hands were shaking as he gripped the back of a chair. “We’ve been worried. I know it didn’t go very well this morning but-”

“That’s an understatement,” muttered Harry putting his plastic shopping bag on the table and running a hand through his hair. He turned to see an indistinct silvery shape go sailing through the kitchen wall. “They might not be able to take Teddy today but the Wizengamot didn’t seem all that eager to make it permanent.”

“It was only ever going to be an interim order,” said Bill helplessly. “The fight’s not over and it won’t be for months.”

“Someone has to talk some sense into this Brown character,” said Harry. “You’re not dangerous and Teddy’s not dangerous. You’re not even werewolves!”

“I know,” said Bill gripping his shoulder. “We will win this fight; we just can’t win it today.”

“Why not?” demanded Harry. “It seems pretty straightforward to me. I mean, Kingsley’s the Minister, why can’t he just … tell them?”

“That would be dictating just like … before,” answered Bill. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out the window. “Just like Voldemort.”

“Most of the Wizengamot seemed to think it was a good idea to tighten controls,” said Harry bitterly.

“We can turn them around, Harry,” said Bill urgently. He spun around to face Harry. “With proper research and a well-prepared case we can make this resolution permanent and watertight. We can’t give up.”

“Do you really think we can?” asked Harry. “Make it permanent, I mean? Make it so you are safe; so Teddy is safe?”

“I think we can,” answered Bill. “We have to.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t listen to you,” huffed Molly banging a cauldron onto the stove forcefully. “You’re Harry Potter!” Harry grimaced and Molly shot a jet of water from her wand into the pot. She might have put a bit too much power behind it because the water splashed out of the pot and sizzled on the flames underneath the cauldron. Bill chuckled softly.

“I’d better get home to Fleur. Everything all right then, Harry?” asked Bill.

“Yeah I just, I had to go somewhere,” answered Harry avoiding Bill’s gaze. Harry stared at the plastic shopping bag. The parchment envelope was inside. His fingers itched to open it but he didn’t want to do it here; it needed to be somewhere private. He had no idea what or who was in those photographs or even if they were all photographs. He didn’t have a chance to excuse himself to go and look at it because Ron and Arthur burst through the door at that moment, Ron skidding hurriedly to a stop in front of Harry.

“Where have you been, you git?” Ron shouted at him. “I thought you were going to see Teddy? Don’t you ever make me have to tell Ginny you’re missing! You can’t go wandering off like that! People want a piece of you. I’m surprised you don’t have bodyguards! If you’re going to go wandering off all the time maybe you need a minder!” Harry took a step back as Arthur put a calming hand on Ron’s arm.

“I just went shopping,” Harry said. “I needed to go shopping.”

“I didn’t see you in Diagon Alley,” said Ron suspiciously.

“No, Muggle shopping,” explained Harry patiently. He stifled a chuckle as he saw Arthur prick up his ears. “I told Ginny I’d bring back a Monopoly set for our Muggle Studies assignment. I’m also supposed to bring her chocolate. Not only do I not know why she will need it next week, but Muggle chocolate is so confusing. I couldn’t just buy a simple chocolate frog; no they had about four different kinds of chocolate frog to choose from! How am I supposed to know which ones she’d like?”

“You can’t get her chocolate frogs!” exclaimed Ron, poking at the plastic bag. He jumped when it crackled.

“Why not? She likes chocolate frogs,” said Harry extracting the Monopoly game from the shopping bag, grateful that everyone had forgotten to ask him where he’d been all afternoon. “You’re just jealous because she has more cards than you now.”

“She can’t count yours,” said Ron, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“I gave them to her,” argued Harry.

“Only so she could say she had more than me!”

“Boys,” said Molly mildly, elbowing Ron aside so she could set some plates on the table. They settled with a quiet clank as she waved her wand to levitate the forks over.

“Anyway, you can’t give her chocolate frogs,” said Ron with an air of finality as he turned the Monopoly box over.

“Definitely not,” said Bill. He winked at Ron. “I’d better be off then. See you all later. I’ll be in touch, Harry.” Bill left and Harry turned to Ron exasperatedly.

“Say what you like,” he said. “I’ll get some chocolate frogs in the morning before I go back. We have lost all the Agrippa cards and the one of that wizard who invented Drooble’s. Maybe we can replace them.” Ron shook his head and muttered something that sounded like ‘no clue’.

After they had eaten, Harry left the Monopoly set with Ron and Arthur who were determined to figure the game out. Molly shook her head indulgently at them and Harry excused himself to borrow Pigwidgeon. After he sent Ginny a note explaining the situation and letting her know he wouldn’t be back until the next day, he went to visit Teddy. Andromeda didn’t seem at all displeased at the temporary nature of the orders Kingsley had secured that morning.

“Oh there’s still a way to go,” she said as she bustled about the kitchen while Harry bounced Teddy on his lap and pulled faces at the baby to make him laugh. “They won’t be able to just barge in and take him though. You don’t know how much that relieves my mind.” Teddy squealed and grabbed at Harry’s nose. Harry gave him a small rubber duck as a distraction.

“Well the fight’s not over,” he said, looking up at Andromeda. “I’m not stopping until it is and his future will be secure.” Andromeda smiled at him fondly before breaking out into peals of laughter. Harry looked down at Teddy who had managed to transform his nose into a replica of the bill on the yellow rubber duck that was now lying on the floor. Teddy was straining to get to the toy, his hair sticking up in black spiky tufts and his face gradually going yellow.

“Hufflepuff, huh?” Harry asked his godson as he bent down to retrieve the duck. “Well, all right then. If you aren’t going to be a Gryffindor like your dad, the least you can do is be a ‘Puff like your mum.” Teddy stopped trying to twist to the floor and looked up at Harry with eyes that resembled Tonks’s and a duck’s bill for a nose. Harry stayed absolutely still as Teddy stared at him.

“She used to do that all the time,” he whispered to Teddy eventually. “Ginny used to laugh because she could turn it into a pig’s snout as well. I think the pig snout looks better with pink hair. You’ve got her eyes you know.” Harry’s breath caught in his throat and he heard Andromeda sniff but he couldn’t take his eyes away from Teddy’s gaze.

“Gah,” said Teddy solemnly.

“I’ve got my mum’s eyes,” Harry continued as the duck’s bill faded and Teddy’s own nose reappeared. Harry ran a hand through Teddy’s soft hair. “And my dad’s hair, but you’ve definitely got your mum’s hair and her nose.” Teddy reached a pudgy hand up to grab at Harry’s cheek where a lone tear rolled down.

“Buh,” said Teddy.

“No one told me, you know,” said Harry. “I didn’t know until I was … at Hogwarts. I didn’t know I had my mum’s eyes and my dad’s hair. I got my knobbly knees from him, too. No one told me.” Harry paused and traced Teddy’s face tenderly. Teddy grabbed at his finger.

“Nuhmg,” murmured Teddy and tried to chew on Harry’s finger.

“You look just like her,” Harry murmured. “She had a heart-shaped face, just like you, and she liked to turn her hair pink. But I hope you get your dad’s sense of balance because hers was terrible, always tripping over things. She was brilliant on a broomstick, though. One day, I’ll teach you how to fly. Your dad was a great teacher. I really miss them.” Harry didn’t try to stop the tears that began to stream down his face. Teddy reached up to catch the tears that dripped from the end of Harry’s nose.

“Harry …” said Andromeda gently. Harry looked up at her. Her eyes were red rimmed but she was smiling at him.

“I’m sorry, I just …” he trailed off and looked down at Teddy who was still gazing up at him intently. Andromeda reached out and smoothed Harry’s hair before patting his cheek gently the way Molly often did.

“That’s all right, Harry,” she said. “Don’t ever stop telling Teddy about them. He’s so much like his mother, some days it hurts just to look at him. But he’s got his father’s determination. They made the right choice when they chose you to be his godfather.” Andromeda dropped her hand to stroke Teddy’s cheek.

“I never knew how much he looked like Tonks before,” said Harry.

“That’s because he always tries to look like you,” murmured Andromeda as she moved away to set out the tea things. “He is so much like his mother.” Harry stared for a moment.

“He is, isn’t he?” he said suddenly. “He’s like his mother.” Andromeda looked at him curiously as she took two teacups out of a cupboard in the corner.

“Why do you sound excited about that?” she asked. Harry smiled at Teddy and tickled his tummy.

“Because if we argue this thing right, that could make all the difference,” he said. “All your dad gave you was your determination, hey little guy?” Andromeda stood motionless in front of the cupboard.

“You could be right, Harry,” was all she said, but her eyes sparkled with what Harry decided to call hope; and Teddy squealed and laughed.

“Where did you go this afternoon?” asked Ron later that night as the two of them lay in bed. Harry turned his head to face Ron. The full moon bathed the world in dim light which poured between the curtains and into the room. Ron was watching Harry closely.

“I told you, Muggle shopping,” Harry answered, hoping he sounded casual and not like his heart was beating faster than the Hogwarts Express. Ron raised an eyebrow at him.

“Then why are you more jittery than Pig?” he asked Harry. “What are you hiding?” Harry turned his face back to the ceiling.

“Nothing,” he replied thinking of the thick parchment envelope at the bottom of his bag. He kept wondering if he should just look at its contents but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He’d never had something so important and so precious that he was so utterly terrified of.

“Well if you won’t tell me, make sure you tell Ginny,” grunted Ron. Harry heard the bedcovers rustle as Ron turned over. He lay in the dim light from the full moon thinking about the werewolf legislation, Teddy, and the envelope in his bag. Ron had unwittingly hit on the answer to Harry’s dilemma over the mysterious envelope — Harry needed to share it with Ginny; he couldn’t open it until she was with him in case … in case he needed her. He suddenly ached to be near her, morning couldn’t come fast enough.

***************

Harry arrived back at Hogwarts late on Sunday afternoon to find Dean and Seamus sitting idly on the steps of the Entrance Hall. There was a sprinkling of students on the lawn and Neville was muttering to himself as he walked along the path towards them. He was covered in dirt and clutched a tattered book that he was feverishly flipping through.

“Harry!” called Seamus. Harry raised a hand in greeting and jogged up the steps to join them.

“Hello,” he said, flopping down beside Dean, dropping his bags carelessly on the top step.

“How is it on the outside?” asked Dean, idly scraping at the gaps in the stone steps.

“Ron says hello,” said Harry, watching Dean’s fingers go back and forth, digging a small sharp pebble into the groove between two stones. “What are you doing?” Dean looked up, startled. His eyes drifted back down to the gritty dust now littering the step. He brushed it away hurriedly.

“There was this dark spot … in the grout,” said Dean shakily. “I th-think it was blood and I was getting rid of it.” No one said anything as Neville sank onto the steps beside them.

Harry watched a group of first years running through the hedges on the edge of the lawn and a small clutch of second years, probably coming back from the Quidditch pitch with their broomsticks. The sun beat down on the children as they played, clouds scudding across the deep expanse of blue.

“It’s a great day,” said Neville eventually. “It’ll be getting cold soon.”

“We weren’t allowed outside last year,” said Seamus softly. “Not really. Could go to the courtyards and the greenhouses but not really much place else. Stopped the greenhouse visits too eventually.”

“It’s good they can play outside,” said Neville. Dean suddenly swiped at the dust he’d created on the step, sending it fluttering into the air where it twirled around, some of it falling back to the steps and the rest blown away on the wind.

“D’you think we’ll ever be free of it?” asked Seamus. “D’you think it’ll ever go away?”

“It’ll fade,” said Neville. “Scars fade.”

“Not all of them,” said Harry distantly drawing his knees up to his chest and staring out towards the Forbidden Forest. A heavy silence fell over the group. It wasn’t oppressive, but it lingered, teasing them and daring them to try and chase it away. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“So, where’s Luna then?” asked Seamus suddenly.

“She’s helping Audrey avoid you, you great prat,” grinned Neville. “Honestly I haven’t seen anyone try and avoid you so much since Lavender after the Yule Ball!”

“Lavender avoiding you, that’s serious mate,” chortled Dean. “Not many blokes she willingly avoids.”

“Shut up,” said Seamus giving him a shove. Dean nearly fell off the step he was perched on.

“She and Parvati have opened a shop,” said Harry.

“What sort of shop?” asked Dean, kicking Seamus’s shoe with his foot as he straightened himself on the step.

“I dunno,” shrugged Harry. “Ron’s been in. I didn’t have time to go in, but it looked like Trelwaney’s wardrobe had thrown up in the window.”

“It’s a Divination shop,” said Neville. “They’re selling things for Divination and if you want, they’ll do a reading.”

“Well, well,” said Seamus, grinning. “Neville knows all about it.”

“Hannah sent me an Owl,” said Neville absently, still flipping through his book. Dean sat up abruptly.

“Does Luna know you’re getting Owls from some other girl?” he demanded.

“What?” Neville asked, startled as he dropped his book. “Hannah’s my friend.”

“Oh yes, very friendly,” smirked Seamus and Neville blushed violently.

“Luna understands about Hannah,” Neville said, bending to pick up his book. “Luna and I understand each other just fine thank you. She’s not the sort to be worried because I am friends with someone.”

“That’s deep, mate,” said Seamus, getting to his feet and dusting off the seat of his trousers. “I’m going to see Miss Audrey and see if I can’t get her to ah … study with me tonight.” He smirked at Neville again and swaggered off to a group of girls a short distance away, strolling across the grounds.

“Lavender’s not doing well, is she?” asked Neville as they watched Seamus approach Audrey.

“No, she’s not really,” replied Harry as Audrey turned her back on Seamus.

“What’s Lavender’s problem?” enquired Dean. Audrey began to walk away. Seamus trotted after her.

Harry briefly explained what he knew as Seamus tried to grasp Audrey’s arm and tripped over something, perhaps his own two feet, and went sprawling, pulling Audrey down with him. Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion at Harry’s words.

“But she was all right,” he insisted. Seamus lay sprawled on the grass while Audrey stood over him and berated him — she was wagging a finger at him and all.

“I know she was,” replied Harry, trying not to smirk as Audrey turned her back on Seamus and stalked away. “Is it any wonder she has nightmares though?”

“I have nightmares,” said Neville quietly. The three of them watched as Seamus stomped back across the grounds towards them.

“I reckon we all have nightmares,” Dean acknowledged. Seamus scowled at him as he threw himself on the steps.

“She’s a bloody nightmare,” he grumbled. “Honestly.”

“You giving up?”

“Nope.”

**************

Har ry was distracted and pensive all evening. The Monopoly set had been set up in front of the Gryffindor common room fire and the seventh years crowded around while Ginny read out the instructions. She’d greeted Harry enthusiastically earlier but they had been interrupted by several second years who had started a fight on the staircase. By the time Harry and Hermione had sent the Slytherin students to Professor Slughorn, the Gryffindors to Professor Crockwell, and the Hufflepuffs caught in the crossfire to the Hospital Wing it was time to eat. Harry saw Ginny look at him concernedly several times during the meal but he squeezed her hand and tried to smile reassuringly. His mind was racing several directions at once as he mechanically chewed his food.

He had enjoyed the freedom that going home had provided and revelled in the chance to see Ron and Teddy, but now that he was back at Hogwarts he had started to fret. Was Teddy all right? Had Bill and Fleur been further harassed? How was Lavender? He also felt mildly guilty that he’d not worried about Ginny while he’d been away. Hermione had also noticed his pensive mood and while Neville and Seamus fought over who would get to be the top hat she caught his eye and motioned to a small table under a window. Harry glanced at Ginny who was laughing at Dean and trying to hold the boot out of his reach.

“Are you going to play, Harry?” asked Neville. Harry shook his head.

“I’ll give it a miss,” he said quietly, looking again at Ginny.

“I’ll be the banker,” said Ginny surrendering the boot token. Dean raised it above his head dramatically in mock triumph. Ginny looked at Harry for a moment before nodding her head at Hermione who had moved to the small table under the window. Harry raised his eyebrows at her but Ginny just smiled and tilted her head at Hermione before handing the instructions to Neville and began counting out the paper money.

“So you throw the dice and then you move around the board and they give you money just for going around it?” asked Dennis Creevey who had been watching the older students with interest. “You do all this stuff along the way?”

“Yeah, seems like it,” answered Neville absently, staring at the instructions in his hand.

“I don’t get it,” said Seamus sighing heavily. “Why is this a wheelbarrow?”

“It’s just a token, Seamus,” answered Dean. “Here, I’ll show you. We used to have monopoly tournaments when I was a kid; it’s my mum’s favourite game.” Dean launched into an explanation of Chance cards and the Community Chest. Harry quietly got up from his chair and joined Hermione at the window. He smiled slightly as he heard Dean exclaim exasperatedly that poking the ‘No Parking’ car with a wand wasn’t going to make it go because it wasn’t a magical board game.

Hermione got straight to the point.

“Pig arrived this afternoon while we were in the library,” she said and looked at Harry expectantly.

“You guys should use Liberty sometimes,” Harry said. “Pig will get worn out if you send him back and forth so much.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“It was addressed to Ginny.”

“Oh,” said Harry flatly.

“Well Ron did send me- er … something also, but-”

“Bit romantic is he?” Harry asked, smirking and trying to deflect the attention from himself. Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said primly and folded her hands on the table in front of her.

“Really?” deadpanned Harry. “I was being facetious.”

“Oh, Ron’s very romantic,” said Hermione. “He sends me little notes and chocolates sometimes and he remembers to put the toothpaste in with it. Sometimes he sends me poetry. I mean I know he didn’t write it, but that doesn’t matter, it’s the thought that counts.”

“Ron sends you poetry?

“Oh yes,” nodded Hermione leaning forward slightly, an unholy gleam in her eyes. “And … he knows just how to hold my hand so he doesn’t squeeze it too tight and how I like him to run his fingers up my arm and he’s got this thing he does where he draws little circles on my back, just up under my shirt. He’s got very talented hands actually, the other day he worked out how to undo the clasp on my robes with just one hand while the other one was-”

“Stop!” yelped Harry. Hermione sat back and smirked at Harry.

“I will,” she said, “if you tell me what happened this weekend that made Ron tell Ginny to look after you.” Harry looked up at her solemnly. He let out a heavy sigh and stared out the window.

“Who’s going to look after Ron?” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong with Ron?” asked Hermione. Harry looked at her; she was chewing her bottom lip and staring at him worriedly.

“Nothing,” said Harry. He was not convincing. Hermione tilted her head and shook it exasperatedly. They watched each other for a moment before Harry dropped his head into his hands.

“Harry?”

“It’s just that … he,” Harry sighed and decided to blurt everything out. “He’s trying to look after everyone. George disappeared the whole weekend. Molly doesn’t even know Ron hasn’t seen him since Friday lunch time.”

“What?” exclaimed Hermione. “Did you look for him?” Harry shook his head.

“Apparently he does it a lot. Ron hides it from their parents so they don’t worry about him,” replied Harry. “Between Hannah, Rosmerta and Aberforth, Ron usually knows where he’s at.”

“That’s awful,” gasped Hermione.

“That’s how it is,” said Harry. “I don’t think Ron realises it’s not normal anymore. Penelope dumped Percy. I just … it’s sort of … well I don’t know why he’s worrying about looking after me!” Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Harry’s hand.

“He’s always worried about you,” said Hermione softly. “He’s always looked after you. You being here is tearing him apart as much as Ginny being here is. You saw him that first day — trying to worry about everyone at once.”

“Yeah, worrying about George and Ginny,” sighed Harry.

“And you,” added Hermione softly. “He tore Ginny apart for worrying you. So what made him Owl her?” Harry stared out the window, played with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt and inspected the initials etched on the table. He didn’t even understand his own reluctance to explain how he’d spent his weekend. He needed Hermione’s help and he knew it but she’d been so happy going back to school, immersing herself in study and books, involving her in another fight seemed cruel.

“Hey look Hermione I think Sirius got happy with a penknife here,” he said, tracing an ornate SB that had been etched into the table top. Hermione shook her head.

“That was Cormac McClaggen with a wand in his fifth year when he fancied Susan Bones,” she grinned. “Sirius carved this over here.” She pointed to a neat box in the corner near the wall. Inside the box a love heart read SB 4 AP.

“I wonder who AP was?” mused Harry.

“Who knows?” said Hermione. “Who knows who he or she was or why you are so gloomy.”

“He or she?” Harry raised an eyebrow. Hermione shrugged.

“Stop avoiding the question, Harry.”

“Lavender Brown’s uncle wants to tighten werewolf controls,” said Harry eventually. “I spent Saturday morning at the Ministry listening to a bunch of pompous gits argue whether or not people who have had contact with a werewolf are a danger to themselves and others.”

“No,” gasped Hermione. Harry nodded grimly.

“Lavender’s having nightmares or flashbacks or something,” he said. “She barely leaves the house. Her uncle seems to think if he locks up anyone who has even looked at a werewolf she’ll get better.”

“Are you exaggerating, Harry?” Hermione asked, eyebrows raised. He looked at her sheepishly. “Tell me exactly who this fellow wants to lock up.”

“Well, people who’ve had contact with a werewolf,” he began.

“Surely not,” scowled Hermione. “That’s going to be practically the entire magical population.”

“Well … I didn’t really understand everything he said -”

“Obviously,” said Hermione dryly. Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

“But I think it’s certain kinds of contact,” he said. “He had a big long list with about fifty different points.”

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “Lavender wasn’t bitten by a transformed werewolf. It was close to the full moon, sure, but it was the same as Bill …”

“Yes and they are going after Bill as well,” said Harry bitterly. Hermione looked up sharply.

“Teddy?” she questioned softly. Harry nodded. “Oh Harry.”

“You have got to help me, Hermione,” Harry said, a little desperately. “I thought of something but I don’t know if it’s good enough and I can’t fight this Brown guy on his level. I think he’s some sort of fancy lawyer or something. He used a whole bunch of big words I don’t even know the meaning of and they had like six blokes with stacks of parchments.

“They want to put Teddy in a cage every full moon–in some sort of refuge thing to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone. How will they look after him? What happens if he cries? He’s just a baby, Hermione! He doesn’t even have any teeth yet — although they are about to come through. He tried to bite my finger off yesterday and then he just looked up at me all innocent; looked just like Tonks did when she was trying to pretend she didn’t just knock over a vase. He looks so much like her, Hermione.”

“They aren’t going to are they?” Hermione asked urgently as she leaned forward, her voice lowered. “Lock him up?” Harry shook his head.

“Kingsley came back from Spain,” Harry started. “He managed to calm the Wizengamot down and there are interim orders and someone’s supposed to do further research. But … Hermione, they are all petrified. They want to pass the laws. Not just for werewolves but for anyone who’s been attacked, whether it was a transformed werewolf or not, and for anyone who’s parents are a werewolf … or were.”

“But … wouldn’t that include Lavender as well?” asked Hermione.

“Probably,” shrugged Harry. “I wasn’t really concerned about her, I was more worried about the fact that they want to lock my godson up in a cage, Hermione!” His raised voice drew a few concerned looks from the rest of the Gryffindors in the room. Ginny was watching him closely and he gave her a tight smile. She returned his look with one that said she was thinking of things to do to him later. Harry let his mid wander for just a moment as he watched Ginny methodically count out some paper notes to give to Seamus who did a little victory dance under the nose of a scowling Neville.

“What does Lavender think?” Hermione was saying when he dragged his mind back to the more pressing issue of werewolf legislation.

“She doesn’t think anything,” he shrugged. “I didn’t speak to her.” Hermione let out an exasperated huff.

“Well that just means you don’t know what she thinks, not that she doesn’t think anything,” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “First thing we need to do, then, is talk to Lavender.”

“We?” asked Harry, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“Of course ‘we’, Harry,” said Hermione softly, “it’ll always be ‘we’.” Harry smiled at her.

“Thanks Hermione,” he said. He was glad she seemed satisfied he had unburdened everything that had been bothering him. He had no desire to revisit his trip to Privet Drive, revealing the parchment envelope at the bottom of his bag. He was practically terrified of it by now. The longer he put it off the more he dreaded looking inside. He also knew that it was best not to tell Hermione about it. She would nag and nag him until he opened it and faced whatever was in there; and as far as Harry was concerned, Hermione was not equipped to help him face it.

“So what happens next?” Hermione asked him expectantly.

“They’ve scheduled a proper hearing or whatever they call it for two week’s time,” answered Harry. “Brown wants something in place by the next full moon.”

“Two weeks doesn’t give us a lot of time,” mused Hermione. She pulled a planner out of her bag and fished around for a quill. Flipping through the pages she began muttering about study schedules and getting permission to leave the grounds.

“Hermione?” Harry asked tentatively. She nodded absently. “I wanted to ask you, is being a werewolf hereditary?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “It’s like a virus or an infection. You have to be bitten — by an actual transformed werewolf.”

“So there is no way Teddy is genetically a werewolf?”

“No,” said Hermione. “I thought you’d read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?”

“That’s what I thought,” Harry leaned forward. “Teddy looks just like his mother. He has her eyes and her face and he’s a metamorphmagus, not a werewolf. But even if he didn’t look like her, he can’t be a werewolf can he?” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Why would anyone need to lock up a child who isn’t actually a werewolf?” she said thoughtfully before leaping out of her seat. “I need to go to the library. I’ll see you later.” Harry shook his head and smiled as he watched her go.

The Monopoly game was still going. Harry watched as Neville scowled while handing over what looked like all the cash he had. Dean was grinning like a Cheshire cat and Harry had no doubt he owned all the properties that had red hotels on them. Harry turned his attention to the tabletop in front of him. Years of initials and carved swirls moved across the scarred wooden surface. He traced the SB initials Hermione had pointed out, realising that they were in Sirius’s handwriting. He searched the table carefully and smiled when he saw, etched carefully into one corner ‘RW +HG’. It looked like a very fresh etching. He was still searching the table when a cry went up from the table in front of the fire.

“It’s not fair,” Neville said plaintively. “You’re Muggle-born. I bet you can play this in your sleep!” Dean was still grinning at Neville as Neville handed over what looked like every Title Deed he had.

“You may as well just have it all! I can never pay you that rent!”

“Thank you Neville,” crowed Dean, organising his new properties meticulously. Ginny handed Neville the money tray.

“Here, you be the Banker, Neville,” she said. Neville started to protest but then his eyes flicked to Harry and he took the tray carefully. Ginny unwound herself from the chair she had been curled up in and padded her way across the room to Harry.

“Where did Hermione go?” she asked softly as she stood in front of him.

“Library,” answered Harry, “had to look something up.” Ginny snorted.

“D’you think we can find something better to do?” she asked him with a grin.

“Yeah, I — there’s… I need to show you something … upstairs-”

“Oh really?” Ginny raised her eyebrows suggestively and then winked at him. Harry blushed and shook his head.

“One track mind, you have,” he muttered as he pushed himself out of the seat. The two of them stole wordlessly up the steps into Harry’s dormitory.

Ginny bounced on Harry’s bed as he threw open his trunk and extracted the bag he’d brought home with him. Ginny sprawled across the bed and peered inside the trunk, reaching one hand inside to poke around in his socks. Harry slapped at her hand.

“Oi!” he cried. “Hands off!” Ginny pouted.

“But I love that pair with the broomsticks on.”

Harry shook his head and rummaged around in the bag and extracted the box of chocolate frogs he’d picked up that morning in Hogsmeade. He handed it to Ginny absently as he delved deeper into the bag for the envelope Dudley had given him.

“Chocolate frogs huh?” she asked. Harry nodded absently.

“We can see if we can find that card of the Drooble’s guy,” he said, pulling out a small battery charger. “Damn, I forgot to give this to your dad.”

“Why chocolate frogs?” asked Ginny. Harry looked up at her, a dirty shirt dangling from one hand and the battery charger in the other. She looked a little perplexed. There was a slight scowl on her face and her forehead was wrinkled as she frowned at the box in her hands.

“You asked for chocolate,” Harry said throwing the charger on the bed and balling up the shirt to lob into his laundry basket. “You said you’d need it. There’s plenty of chocolate in a box of chocolate frogs.” He rummaged in the bag again and pulled out his razor, a pair of socks and a comb before finally locating the envelope. He hastily dropped everything else haphazardly in his trunk and slammed the lid shut. He stopped short at the sight of Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed staring at the box of chocolate frogs as if it owed her a favour.

“I did, didn’t I?” she muttered. Harry sat gingerly on the bed next to her.

“Did you want something else?” he asked quietly. “It’s just … you didn’t really say what sort and we haven’t really had a good chocolate frog jumping contest for ages. Plus we need a new Agrippa and Seamus said there was a new series of cards being released before Christmas. We might get some in this box.” Ginny turned to him and reached for his hand.

“No,” she said, “these are fine; I didn’t really specify. You’re right.” She squeezed his hand affectionately. Harry leaned down to give her a soft kiss and soon the parchment envelope and the box of chocolate frogs lay forgotten on the floor.

When Dean came charging in a short time later he groaned, loudly.

“Should you two be doing that in front of Trevor? He’s a very impressionable young toad.” Harry looked up, startled to find Dean walking out of the room with his hand over his eyes and Trevor sitting on the chair next to his bed, eyeing him with beady, little black eyes.

“What are you looking at?” he asked the toad gruffly and Ginny burst into peals of laughter. Trevor just eyed them solemnly from his perch on the chair before hopping down and across the envelope and under Neville’s bed. Ginny bent down to scoop up the chocolate frogs and envelope.

“What’s in here?” she asked Harry, turning the envelope over in her hands. Harry swallowed.

“I um … I don’t know, not really,” he said quietly. “It’s from Godric’s Hollow; from the — my house.” Ginny had been about to peer inside the envelope but stopped abruptly and looked up at him.

“Godric’s Hollow?” she echoed. “You went to Godric’s Hollow? Merlin, no wonder you’ve gone all quiet.” Harry shook his head.

“No, I didn’t go to Godric’s Hollow,” he said. Ginny waited while Harry battled an internal war with himself about telling her where he’d gotten the envelope. He had wanted nothing more than to share it with her for the last twenty-four hours and now that she was here, holding the envelope, he found himself tongue-tied. When Ginny gently put a hand on his arm Harry looked up at her. She smiled.

“How’s Teddy?” she asked. Harry was momentarily confused. They’d been talking about the envelope and now she had asked a completely unrelated question.

“He’s uh, he’s good — cutting a tooth,” Harry replied. Ginny nodded and Harry wondered what she expected him to say next. Hermione had pressed him for answers, not relenting until he’d told her everything, or so she believed. Ginny just ... waited.

“Did you get the werewolf thing at the Ministry sorted out yesterday?”

“Sort of,” Harry shook his head wearily. “Bill thought it went well but — I asked Hermione to help.” Ginny didn’t try to hide her smirk. She ran the hand on his arm down to loosely grasp his fingers and laid the parchment envelope down on the bed beside them.

“She’ll be completely in her element,” said Ginny nodding. “I don’t think Teddy could have anyone better looking out for him, you know? That little boy is going to be so loved — we have to be careful not to spoil him.”

“You think I’m doing all right as a godfather?” Harry asked suddenly. He pulled Ginny with him as he scrambled back onto his bed, resting against the headboard. Ginny snuggled into his side and he slipped his arms around her.

“I think you’re doing brilliantly,” Ginny replied. “He’s very lucky, just like me.”

“Oh yes, and why are you lucky then?” Harry teased.

“Because I’ve got you,” Ginny said very seriously. Harry looked at her, momentarily lost for words at the seriousness of her tone. It didn’t matter to her that he’d not told her about the envelope and what he’d been up to. She didn’t demand to know what was going on or prod him and needle him until he told her. She was happy just to be with him. But he knew she was worried, he could see it lurking in her eyes. He studied her for a moment; her long eyelashes swept her cheeks as she blinked. Her cheeks were a faint pink because he’d slipped one hand around her waist and was softly stroking her back with his thumb.

“I went to the Dursley’s,” he blurted suddenly. “Dudley gave it to me — the envelope.” Harry leaned his head back on the headboard and closed his eyes. He felt Ginny stiffen beside him.

“What was it doing there?” she asked sounding like she was choosing her words with the utmost care.

“They took it,” he spat, “from the house.”

“How? It’s charmed so Muggles can’t see it.”

“Dedalus took them,” Harry answered, letting out a large sigh. “Dudley’s weird. He’s like … he’s going to be a policeman!” Ginny wrinkled her forehead in thought.

“Is that like an Auror?”

“Well, its law enforcement,” said Harry. “Aurors are probably more specialised than a regular policeman, but I am not sure there is any way to compare. It’s ironic though. He used to beat up me and any other little kid within a ten mile radius. Not exactly law abiding behaviour.”

“I didn’t realise you were going there this weekend,” said Ginny idly.

“I hadn’t planned on it exactly …” he trailed off.

“Well you didn’t do it by accident,” Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

“It was sort of — I kind of …” Harry sighed. “When the hearing at the Ministry didn’t really resolve anything I needed to just get out of there. I was just so frustrated. Remember there used to be that statue in the Atrium at the Ministry? And it got replaced with this absolutely vile statue that got ripped down?” Ginny nodded.

“Dad said it was one of the most disturbing things he’s seen,” she said quietly.

“There’s a big gaping hole in the Atrium now, where it used to be,” said Harry. “It’s like there’s a gaping hole in other places too. It’s nothing like the way it bustled … before. And I don’t know who Kingsley dragged up to speak officially against the legislation but he was the most nervous wreck of a man I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how he makes it out of his house, let alone into some position in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

“It was pretty obvious to me that he was just some person who was reading out something Bill and Kingsley threw together to fight this Brown idiot. He had no idea. He probably wasn’t even in the Department until yesterday! I wanted so badly to just tell them where to go, but there’s all these procedures and … law things. I don’t know how they all work. I thought I did but …”

“Well we can figure it out,” said Ginny. “You got Hermione working on it didn’t you?” Harry laughed slightly.

“Is it wrong for me to think only Hermione can do this?” Harry asked suddenly. He looked down at Ginny who shook her head, smiling slightly.

“I think it’s perfectly reasonable to turn to Hermione,” she answered, “for that.” She was drawing patterns on his chest with her fingers and Harry let himself forget everything else for a moment and just feel her gentle touch. It wasn’t long before he had captured her lips with his own and ran his own fingers up her back and into her hair.

Harry would have probably really enjoyed himself if it had not been for the fact that when he flipped her onto her back his own foot connected with the box of chocolate frogs and sent it crashing to the ground before landing on the parchment envelope. With a groan Harry pulled away and sat up to pick up the envelope. It felt heavy in his hands and they shook as he turned it over. He could feel Ginny kneeling behind him and she rested one hand lightly on his back.

“Aunt Petunia had a photograph on her hall table,” he said softly. “It was a baby picture of my mum. Dudley said they got it at the house in Godric’s Hollow. I wanted to hex them. How dare they go there? I was so angry, Ginny. They went there and they took something.

“But then Dudley gave me … this. He found it there, says there’s another one in here. He kept it for me I think. He’s never done anything nice for me before. What if — what if it’s a joke? What if there’s really nothing in here but some old paper?”

“It’s parchment,” said Ginny softly. “Does Dudley go around with parchment envelopes much?” Harry snorted.

“I’m scared,” he said softly turning to face her, the envelope sitting innocuously between them in his hands, “and I don’t know why.”

“What did the photograph look like,” asked Ginny, “the one of your mum?” Harry shrugged.

“Like a baby,” he said. “She was sitting with Aunt Petunia and holding a teddy bear. I’ve never seen her baby photo before. I want to know if I looked like her when I was a baby or if … if I always looked like my dad. What if there isn’t really a photo in here? What if it’s all a sick joke?”

“Do you want me to look?” Ginny asked him. Harry turned the envelope over again in his hands. If Ginny opened it and there was nothing there it would still hurt. Did he really need Ginny to look at some paper for him? He took a deep breath and shook his head.

“No, but just … stay here, okay?” he said as he looked her in the eyes and upended the envelope in front of him. He didn’t look down, and neither did Ginny. They stayed looking into each other’s eyes for an impossibly long time before Harry slowly looked down at the black and white photographs that lay across Ginny’s lap.