Minerva McGonagall was astonished. Why hadn’t Albus confided in her? In fact, the news she read in the Daily Prophet was the first she had of anything. She was hurt that Albus hadn’t confided in her; lately he’d been giving her the cold shoulder. Whether intentional or not, the result was that she had no idea that Harry had been rescued, and furthermore, didn’t know where he was going. So with that thought in mind, she stormed all the way to Albus’s office.

But she stopped her hand just in time: Albus was speaking with someone. Not one to eavesdrop, she thought that it wouldn’t really hurt to listen this one time.

“ – yes, that’s right, Minister. Harry’s guardian has taken him to his house.”

She couldn’t catch the response, but she did hear what Dumbledore had to say. “Yes, he is definitely appropriate. Don’t worry, Minister, I will check on him soon. I take it that the Ministry of Childcare will be looking into them soon?”

She pressed her ear closer to the door, but she couldn’t here a thing, only a smattering of mutterings.

“BOO!” shrieked Peeves.   

Minerva jumped 3 metres high, and promptly changed into a cat. She hissed and glared at Peeves, whose only reaction was to snicker with glee. Dumbledore, hearing the noise outside, opened the door.

“My, Minerva, what a racket you’ve made! I presume it was Peeves?”

At the cat’s nod, Dumbledore chuckled. “Now, Minerva, was there anything you wanted?”

Minerva transformed, clearly annoyed at being robbed of her dignity. “Why, yes, but if you are busy…”

“I’m never too busy for you, dear Minerva,” said Dumbledore, and held his office door for her, all the while watching Minerva blush.

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Antonin Dolohov was seething. They’d had the Boy-Who-Lived right in their hands, and they lost him! Theo Yaxley, his partner, consoled him.

“At least Nott and Goyle got off. If we hadn’t pressured Malfoy…”

“Yeah, and? Those two are head-cases. We were better without them,” replied Dolohov bitterly.

“But now we have more manpower to re-gain that stupid child,” reassured Yaxley. Sometimes, Dolohov could be such a spoiled child.

“As if you could trust them. Really, if they were actually brilliant, would we be here now?” asked Dolohov sarcastically. “What would our master do if he were still here? Leave them in Azkaban, that’s what. But no! You had to go and blackmail Lucius, as if he doesn’t have enough on his hands. We need him in power. And what are people going to say now? Huh.”

“Relax, Anton. Malfoy can handle himself. What you need to worry about now is how we’re going to continue our business. Those blasted Aurors caught on to our little game too fast,” said Yaxley. “Maybe we should just move to Ireland. Those Irish are so caught up with their little rivalries they’d never notice us.”

“Do I look Irish to you?” asked Dolohov. “And what about my girlfriend? She’s not going to fancy a trip over the Irish Sea.”

Yaxley guffawed. “You have a girlfriend? With at ugly face? No wonder you joined us! For the mask!”

Dolohov glared at him, and gave Yaxley a sound whack on the back. “Oh, yeah? You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?”

Yaxley winced as he hit a soft spot. “It’s not like I have to try. The chicks fall all over me.”

Dolohov mock looked around. “Oh yeah? So where are they, chick magnet?”

Yaxley walked away at that. Dolohov, seeing this, yelled after him, “Wait up, Theo! Oh, c’mon, wait!”

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Severus was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. What was he thinking, taking in Lily’s child? He didn’t deserve little Harry’s love. And all the awful things he’d done…especially to his mother. He didn’t deserve redemption. For all the sins he had committed, he deserved to be punished for each and every one. There was no room for grace in his troubled soul.

Yet, Harry hadn’t seen him that way. His laughter was like a sunshine bursting forth through the window into his once dark soul, like water flooding into the desert. This child didn’t judge him, nor did he look at Severus’s past; instead, he only saw Severus for who he truly was: a man capable of both receiving and giving love, a man with compassion, and a man still struggling to mend his brokenness. He loved Severus for who he was, and Severus wasn’t sure at all if he could accept that. Not that he had a choice, now, thanks to Dumbledore.

Now that Harry was here, he didn’t really see any of James at all. None of his arrogance, or his confident stupidity. No, Harry was all Lily: his penchance for unrequited love and a compassion that encompassed beyond anything Severus had ever done. Yet, he couldn’t see himself caring for the boy long-term. Could he provide for a child? Or, God-forbid, he lost his temper. No, it was better off asking Minerva, or even the werewolf, to take care of the child. And so that was what he had done, or started doing, anyways.

The letter (or the beginnings of one) lay on the desk. Lost in his musings, all he had written were the words, “Dear Minerva.” Oh, the conflict in his mind! Yes, he loved the child. On the other hand, one: he didn’t deserve Harry, and two: he couldn’t care for the child. Finally, he resolved to finish the letter – later.

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Remus was horribly lost. It was probably because he hadn’t been to Diagon Alley in so long, but he didn’t expect his trip to be so complicated. Of course, what he had found in Sirius’s bank vault probably hadn’t helped either. As he stumbled around, he hoped he would meet someone he recognized. How big could the wizarding world be? Apparently really big, because for all the three hours he had been wandering, he hadn’t even found one place or person he knew. And he’d been only gone for two years. Maybe he was in the wrong place? But no, everyone wore robes. Finally giving up, he disapparated to Hogsmeade, where he hoped things hadn’t changed. He really couldn’t deal with all of this.

Upon arrival, he sighed with relief, seeing Honeydukes and the Hog’s Head. Suddenly needing a drink, he entered Hog’s Head, and breathed yet another sigh of relief when he saw Aberforth.

“Remus, my boy! Wonderful to see you again,” rumbled Aberforth. When the man wasn’t bitter, he reminded Remus of Hagrid. “So where have you been, lad?”

“Went to America for a bit,” answered Remus. “How’ve things been?”

“Quiet, nothing special. My brother, as usual, has got his head in the clouds,” answered Aberforth. “Would you like something to drink?”

He didn’t want to be drunk when he saw Dumbledore…err, the other one. So, he said, “A butterbeer, would you?”, and held out two sickles.

“No, lad, you won’t be paying today. It’s on me,” said Aberforth. As Remus started to protest, Aberforth continued, “After all, you haven’t been here for a while.”

“Thanks,” said Remus. “Do you have today’s news, by any chance?”

“Yeah, I do,” answered Aberforth, and rummaged around his counter. “Ah, here’s one.”

Sipping on his butterbeer, Remus moved to take a look at the newspaper. Had he been holding the butterbeer, he would’ve dropped it, as shocked as he was. Naturally, it was about all that had happened to Harry the past few days, but of course, Remus hadn’t really been up to date.

“What happened?” he asked Aberforth, appalled. “Who has Harry now?”

“Albus does,” replied Aberforth. “The poor boy, really. All the things he’s had to go through…and now this.”

“Yeah,” replied Remus, absentmindedly. Slurping down his butterbeer, he told Aberforth that he had an errand he had to run…and that he’d be back later. With that, he ran out the door and on to Hogwarts, forgetting he could Floo straight there.

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Dumbledore was faintly surprised when he heard the swearing and heavy knocking at his door. A very strange reaction, coming from Remus, who was normally very mild-mannered. 

“Come in,” he said.

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last two minutes, dammit!” cried Remus. Oops, he must have dozed off.

“My apologies,” Dumbledore said as he opened the door for Remus. “Now, my boy, what can I do for you?”

“Harry!” He gasped out, breathless. Then, regaining his composure, he asked, “Where is he?”

“He’s safe, don’t worry,” replied Dumbledore soothingly.

“You said he was safe with the Dursleys last time! Now look at him!” yelled Remus, agitated.

“No, he really is safe now, trust me,” replied Dumbledore, unperturbed.

Remus sighed. He would never get it out of Dumbledore; he might as well figure it out for himself. “All right,” he finally replied.