Ginny flooed to the the school, she would be arriving back with Tim all too soon.

Harry reflected that it had been a long fortnight. Tim's report from the Healer's had been disquieting. There was a load of stuff he'd had to get translated out of healerese; "diffuse nerve axis injury" and "neuropathy" and "fey" (Hermione told Harry that muggles referred to it as "post traumatic stress disorder").

It all added up to one little boy who needed a lot of love.

The healer's thought they could help him somewhat. The potions they'd been giving him had helped a little, Harry thought. He mentioned the project he was working on to the healers; trying to find the anti-crucio formula in Snape's diaries. They encouraged him to continue. The few who had taken their NEWT's with Snape agreed that if anyone could develop such a thing, it would be he.

Ernie McMillian, who worked at St Mungo's in the Spell Damage Department, offered to help Harry with deciphering the healerese in Snape's notebooks.

Once this week, Harry had gone to visit Alice Longbottom. She was a survivor of a cruciatus curse that had driven her to madness. Since her husband had died she had very little change in her condition, but Neville had suggested that Harry might have a better idea of what to look for if he knew what kind of damage the potion was supposed to fix. Neville had also kindly given Harry access to Mrs' Longbottom's medical records.

Harry had to carry on the conversation one sided, because Mrs Longbottom never spoke to him. She hummed vacantly, and, now and again, her eyes would meet his, almost seem to recognize him and then she'd drift away again. With a shiver, he was reminded of how Tim did that whenever he thought he was in trouble.

And now this...Harry had no idea how Tim was going to take this.

Harry made some more tea and tipped just a little calming draft into it. It wouldn't do anyone any harm at this point.

Ginny and Tim stepped out of the fireplace. Tim looked apprehensive as Kreacher took his and Ginny's cloaks.

Ginny put her hand around Tim's shoulders and drew him to the bench by the table. She left her arm there and unusually, Tim let her, "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Harry knelt down in front of Tim, the boy's blue eyes were large and frightened. Harry had done several death notifications. He'd even had to notify children before that their mothers or fathers weren't coming home. Only in the cases of dark magic, of course, other types of murder didn't get sent to the Auror's Office.

This was infinitely worse.

Hermione had offered to do the telling, but Harry and Ginny felt it was important that they tell him themselves. She had stayed long enough to talk to Ginny and Harry about how Tim might react, "It might seem odd," said Hermione, "He might be very upset or he might not react at all at first. In fact it's more than likely he won't, children take time to process these things. Whatever he does, just keep calm about it. If you need anything, owl me." she'd said.

"Tim, love," Harry swallowed, "We've had some bad news. Your mum was found dead this morning." Harry had rehearsed this for the last five minutes, waiting for Ginny to get home, just so he could say it in one go. Ginny looked a little shocked at the bald way Harry said it.

Of course, Harry realized, suddenly, that Ginny had never been on one of these. And Harry didn't often talk about that part of his job. At most she'd heard a couple of stories that he and Ron had told when they'd had a few too many.

It was vitally important that the person being notified heard the "D-word" sooner rather than later, they said in training. The shocked person was too easily prey to false hope or they could sink deeply into denial. It was best to get it out there in as few words as possible.

Tim mouthed the word "dead" after Harry said it. He stared into Harry's eyes as though looking for an answer to a question he couldn't articulate.

"Like Nana?" he whispered finally, "She's dead like Nana?"

Harry nodded solemnly, relieved that he didn't have to explain the concept of death to Tim, then hating himself for that relief.

The boy didn't break down and weep. He didn't actually do anything. For a long moment he was as still as someone petrified. Harry looked at Ginny, alarmed by the thousand-yard-stare. She gave a tiny, helpless, confused shrug. After a seemingly interminable length of time, the boy came back to himself to ask, "Where are they putting what's left?"

Ginny replied, "We thought we'd bury her next to your Nana." she said firmly. They'd discussed how much choice to give the child in this. Harry would have left it all up to Tim, but both witches objected to that, saying that Tim needed to feel as though the grown ups were in control, "Did your Nana have a minister for her funeral?"

Tim nodded, "The vicar at the church said prayers when we buried her."

"I'll call him then, is that all right?" asked Harry. They had all thought it was a good idea for Tim to have a chance to say goodbye.

Tim nodded again. Took a big breath, "Are you going to take me to an orphanage, now?" That horrible, perpetual question.

Ginny gave a little sniff, "No, love," she said in a shaky voice, "You're staying here. With us."

"Was she...was she doing something bad? That got her killed? People used to say she was going to get herself killed."

Harry had a sudden flash on Aunt Marge taunting him about his parents dying in a car wreck. All those years telling him that his mother was common and his father a wastrel. His stomach roiled with hot acid.

"Listen to me," Harry said very seriously catching the boy's eyes "Your mother was ill. I think her illness made her a little mad. But the last thing she did before she died was try to protect you." he paused, took another breath, "We think she was killed by a dark wizard because she wouldn't tell him where you were."

"You mean my dad?" whispered the boy, too quick on the uptake for Harry's comfort.

Ginny made a noise in the back of her throat, "He wasn't your dad." she hissed.

Tim looked at her in surprise, "It's okay, Aunt Ginny," in an oddly comforting voice, "I know how babies happen," he shrugged.

Harry didn't want to think too deeply about that. It may be that the facts of "the wands and the cauldrons" were indeed taught earlier in the muggle world these days. However, Harry doubted Tim knew from anything less than sordid.

"It takes more than fathering a child to make a dad." said Harry softly.

"Nana used to say that." said Tim

"She was right." Ginny said, pulling the boy closer, "Your mum wanted to keep him away from you because she knew he wasn't a good man. Your mum loved you alot."

"She always said she was going to find someone to give me to." Tim swung his feet a few times, then was still again.

"I think she meant, she was trying to find wizards." Harry had decided that he was going to give Tim the most charitable version of Mary that he could, "She just didn't know how to explain it. And we're awfully hard to find if you don't know how."

Tim stared at his hands in his lap, "Could I see her, do you think?"

Ginny opened her mouth, already starting to shake her head to answer in the negative, but Harry beat her to it, "If you feel like you need to. Why do you want to?"

"It might not be her. It might be someone else...she might not..." he stopped.

Ginny stared at Harry as if she thought he'd taken leave of his senses, as he was nodding.

Harry took a deep breath, "She won't look right."

"I know," said Tim, "Nana had gone all grey and yellow, when I saw her. She was in hospital...we were visiting." he said it in that slow, composed voice he had, that never failed to make the hairs on Harry's neck stand up. Harry knew, without a doubt, that Tim would be able to see thestrals.

"I'll take you, then. Tomorrow." said Harry.

Tim nodded, looking somewhere behind Harry. Ginny had poured the tea and given Tim a cup, sliding a plate of biscuits over the table too. He nibbled on them and drank his tea. None of them spoke, though Ginny's arm was across Tim's shoulder still, and he leaned against her as though suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

Harry moved to sit beside the child and Ginny handed Harry his tea.

"Can I go to my room now?" Tim whispered, finally.

"Of course, darling," said Ginny, "I expect you might want a little sleep. Do you want me to come tuck you in?" she knew that Harry was planning to spike the tea with Calming Draft and that it was likely to make Tim sleepy.

He shook his head, "I just want to be by myself." He put his plate down. Stood up, "Auntie Ginny?" he asked, turning to her. He didn't say anything more, just leaned over gave her the first hug he'd given anyone since coming to live with them, apart from Lily. He turned and walked up the stairs.

"Kreacher?" whispered Harry as soon as he heard Tim's door close.

"Master?" answered the old elf, from under the table.

"Keep an eye on Tim, I'm not sure if he'll know to come to us if he needs us. If it seems like, well, anything, let us know."

"Well." said Ginny after a while, "I'll send an owl to Mum. She can get us some funeral clothes. I'll send Tim's size over. Just us, do you think?"

"Let's get Hermione and Ron to come too." nodded Harry.

"If we're going to do that, we'll have the whole lot, you know." Ginny said smiling slightly, "Mum won't let us hear the end of it, if she and Dad don't come."

Harry returned the smile, "All right, but tell her not to invite the rest. Poor Tim has no idea the size of the family he's getting. Let's break it to him slowly, right?"

"Do you really think it's a good idea for him to see the body?" asked Ginny worriedly.

"I think he needs to." replied Harry slowly, trying to articulate the feeling he had, "They tell us, in training, that when you do death notifications, you have to make sure it's real for them. Sometimes, it takes seeing the body." he rubbed his face, leaning on his elbows on the table, "I'll talk to Hermione. We'll make sure Mary doesn't look to bad. And Avada Kedavra doesn't leave any marks..." Harry trailed off, glad for the calming draft. In the back of his mind, he kept reminding himself that he would do Tim no good if he landed in Azkaban.

Ginny nodded agreement. Not at all happy, but understanding Harry's logic. Perhaps she was remembering the way she and her mother had insisted on dressing Fred for his burial themselves, "Will you go arrange the vicar?"

Harry stood, "I'll do that now, and Hermione said there were loads of forms to sign, if we wanted to claim Mary's body." He took his cloak and transfigured it into a sober overcoat, against the rain outside.