It took twenty eight days to prepare the potion for Tim, but a little more than that to get ready to administer it.

St. Mungos had to make an application to the Ministry to use an experimental potion. Fortunately, with Ernie's stature as a healer of long-term spell damage, there was really no difficulty, but it did take time. The Healer's Guild had to review the research and the animal studies (which, fortunately Snape had documented so well, they didn't have to repeat them). Snape's name helped too, he had applied for and received several patents for improvements on existing potions, during his life. The process was to be expedited, due to the continuing fear that Tim's condition could deteriorate.

Harry still doubted that Tim would get worse. He took the wand's choosing Tim as a sign that he could get control of his magic. On the healer's orders, Harry had taken to teaching both the children little spells-he couldn't very well teach Tim without showing Lily. Both of them were proficient at Lumos now. It was one of the few things that brought a smile to the boy's face.

Since his mother's death, Tim had become more withdrawn than ever. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Harry found him sitting on the stairs, his chin on his fists.

"Why do you always sit here?" asked Harry, one night after Kreacher had woken him to tell him Tim was up and about (Harry and Ginny were taking turns with it, the same way they'd taken turns when the other three were babies). There was Tim, in his favorite place

"I like in-between places." said Tim, as though it were self-evident.

At least Tim hadn't been hiding in the closet lately.

Al and James came home for Easter break, bringing their energy to the house for a week. Tim was wary of Albus and downright frightened of James, but Harry had warned the boys how highly strung Tim was. Harry was worried about how Tim would adjust to them. Tim spent the first half of the week furtively watching the family again, as if James and Albus' presence would change some vital balance.

A trip to the Burrow seemed to ease whatever worries the boy had. The family spent their afternoon on broomsticks, with Ginny and Harry taking turns giving Tim rides. At the end of the day, Tim was able to take a slow lap around the orchard on Lily's broom, to Harry's utter delight

That night, Harry heard voices in the kitchen. He walked in to find all four eating all the biscuits in the house and talking animatedly. Tim sitting next to Lily and mostly listening, but looking as relaxed as he ever got.

At least until he saw Harry. He tensed, obviously expecting a row.

Harry smiled, "Budge up, you." he said to James.

James flashed him a grin and scooted over. Harry helped himself to a biscuit and listened until he noticed that Lily was starting to doze, "All right, you lot." he yawned, "Get to bed or you won't be worth anything in the morning."

"Right, Dad" yawned Albus, getting up. Lily murmured sleepy good nights, heading up the stairs too. Harry realized that Tim had fallen asleep with his head on the table.

"He's dead cute," said James, "I can take him up, if you like."

Harry smirked, "You think your Dad's too old to carry him?"

"Well, I just reckoned you needed your rest." teased James. He got serious, suddenly, "Is he going to be okay, Dad?" James wasn't serious very often.

Harry picked up the little boy, "Yes, I think so." he replied, sounding far more sure than he felt.

"And we're going to adopt him?" asked, James, still serious, "For sure?

"Yes." Harry wondered how to ask the obvious question, "You're...okay with that, are you?" they'd talked this all through with the children before they'd even applied for their foster care license, but still.

James smiled, to Harry's relief, "Yeah. It's weird, but it feels like he's always been here. If he weren't here...I dunno..." James shrugged, a little embarrassed, "It'd be like if Lily or Al went missing, you know? I mean, he hasn't been here long but..."

Harry nodded as he walked up the stairs, "I know what you mean."

It was several days after the boys went back to school that the Potters got the owl from Ernie. The potion was ready and the permissions were all in order. Ginny and Harry would need to bring Tim to St. Mungo's on the following Monday morning.

Right after they took Lily to school, on Monday, they arrived at St Mungo's. Harry and Ginny had explained as best they could what the healers were going to do and why.

"Will it hurt?" was all Tim had asked.

"I don't think so," Harry replied, honestly, "The healers are going to give you some potions to make you sleep."

"And there's no needles?" Tim asked, nervously.

Ginny jumped in, "No, lovey, no needles. We'll be there until you're asleep. And then we'll be there, when you wake up."

Tim nodded, looking frightened, "It'll fix me?" he asked.

Ginny bit her lip, but nodded, "It will help you feel better. Your joints should stop hurting and you shouldn't be so tired all the time. Controlling your magic shouldn't be so hard."

Tim nodded, unhappily, but he didn't argue. Harry found himself wishing again for a full blown temper tantrum. That would have been healthier than this false maturity.

Ernie's assistant, Miriam, met them at the door, "Hello, Mr. Potter. Mrs. Potter." she smiled, "Hello, Tim." she bent over to greet him, having met him at one of his previous appointments.

"Hi" he whispered, holding Harry's hand and pushing himself into Harry's leg.

She was an efficient young woman. She riffled through a sheaf of parchments as she walked, leading them to the lift, "We're up on the 6th floor." she said, "I've got all the consents here, for you to sign. Did you have any questions?"

"How long should this take?" asked Ginny.

"We think about an hour, but perhaps two. Healer McMillian is planning on giving Tim enough sedation to last for two hours to be safe. And then he'll be sleepy the rest of the day, I should expect. We'll keep him overnight so we can keep an eye on him." Miriam replied, "He hasn't had anything to eat or drink in the last twelve hours, has he?"

"No."

Miriam marked a little square on her parchment, "Good, we don't want him throwing up." she smiled at Tim, who hid behind Harry.

Harry could feel him trembling, he bent over to ask, "Would you like to be carried?"

Tim nodded, a testament to how frightened he was. He hardly ever let Harry carry him when he was awake. Harry picked him up and the boy hid his face in Harry's shoulder.

They got out on the sixth floor, "We're in procedure room four." Miriam said, indicating the room.

It was a bare room, with a bed, a table for instruments and potions and a set of cabinets that covered the whole back wall. From one of these cabinets, Miriam pulled a hospital gown and placed it on the bed, "Can you get into that, Tim? Just take off your trousers and shirt. You can leave your skivvies on. Hop up on the bed when you're done."

Tim nodded, looking a little relieved. Miriam pulled a curtain around the bed and left Tim to it, aware from past visits that Tim was very averse to receiving help.

"I've got forms for you to sign." said Miriam, putting them on the table and pulling out a quill.

Ginny and Harry signed their way through about twenty forms.

Miriam turned to leave, "Healer McMillian and Healer Jones will be coming to administer the potions, in a minute." she said, "Shouldn't be long, he's the first case of the day."

Harry peeked around the curtain. Tim was sitting on the side of the bed, looking very ill at ease, "Come on, Tim, you'll be better under the covers." said Harry, turning down the bed spread.

Tim crawled under the blanket and lay down. Ginny walked around to the other side and took his hand, "We'll be here when you wake up." she said gently, "And one of us will stay over night with you tonight, okay?"

Tim nodded. Harry took his other hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

A woman healer that Harry hadn't met before came in, "Tim Dawson?" she asked, addressing Tim directly, with a kind smile.

Tim nodded tensely.

"I'm Healer Riahnnon Jones." she said, looking at Harry and Ginny as well, "I'm going to assist Healer McMillian. I specialize in sedative-hypnotics." she looked at three pairs of blank eyes, "Sleeping potions. I'm here to keep you comfortable." she paused, so Tim nodded, "You look really nervous." she said gently, "Would you like an 'I-don't-care' potion? I can give you one now, if you like."

"What's that?" whispered Tim.

She smiled, "It won't put you to sleep, that one comes later. This one is a little stronger than a calming draft. It just makes you not care about anything, until we get to the part where we put you to sleep."

Harry was relieved to see that Healer Jones had worked with children before. Her manner and speech were gentle and she was giving Tim a way to feel in control.

Tim nodded and Healer Jones produced a small vial of purple potion, "It doesn't even taste that bad." she said, smiling.

Tim downed the dose. After a few seconds, he lay back with a sigh.

"Better?" she asked.

Tim nodded, his eyes half closed, "Yeah." he said a little dreamily.

Healer Jones turned to Ginny and Harry, now, "I'm going to be monitoring Tim's state while the potion does it's work." she said, "Ernie's asked me to help because he wants to use anti-convulsants as well as sleeping potions and we don't want him waking up."

Harry and Ginny both nodded, firmly in agreement with this plan.

Someone knocked on the door, "Come." called Healer Jones.

Ernie came in followed by Miriam with a tray of potions, "Hello, Tim." he said, "We met last week."

Tim smiled blearily, "I remember."

Ernie smiled broadly, "I see you've already met Healer Jones."

"Mmm." Tim replied.

"All right. Do you understand what we're doing?" Ginny had told Ernie to make sure he asked Tim this. Tim tended to get very frightened if he didn't know exactly what the healers were going to do.

"Y'r gonna give me a potion t'make me sleep. An' then another one t'fix me." Tim mumbled.

"That's right, sweety." said Healer Jones reaching for one of the potion bottles, "Can you take the first one now?"

Tim nodded, obediently swallowing the potion held to his lips. He was asleep instantly.

"Why don't you and Ginny go on out to the waiting room, now?" said Ernie, "We'll come get you when we take him down to his room."

Harry felt a terrible lurch in his stomach at having to leave Tim, but he knew Ernie was right, he really didn't want to see this next bit. Ginny walked around the bed and took Harry's hand. Before she left, she leaned down and planted a kiss on Tim's forehead.

"Let's go get a cup of tea, first." she said, shakily.

Two hours seemed like an age to Harry and Ginny. Ginny tried to knit, but couldn't keep count. Harry tried to read, but couldn't focus. Conversation seemed to fall flat between them. In the end, they took turns pacing the floor of the waiting room.

At last Miriam appeared.

"Yes?" demanded Ginny.

Miriam smiled, "It went really well. And the initial scans look good."

Harry and Ginny both let out their breath.

"They're moving him down to room 402. It's a private room. You can go down, now." Miriam said.

Harry wouldn't feel happy until he saw Tim for himself. He and Ginny nearly ran to the lift.

They got off on the floor and checked the room first. It was empty, obviously waiting for a patient, but he hadn't arrived yet.

Ginny went to the healer's assistant, stationed at the desk, "Where's Tim Dawson?" she asked.

The witch looked at her charts, "Oh, he should be here by now." she said confused, "Isn't he there?"

"Uh, no." said Harry, nervously.

"Well, that's very funny...doesn't take all that long to bring them down...let me see," she muttered, "Well, according to this, he's already here. Are you sure you've got the right room?"

Later, Harry wouldn't be able to tell what prompted his stomach to turn to ice and send him flying down the stairs, drawing his wand, cursing. Maybe it was Auror's instinct, maybe it was sheer paranoia.

He flashed on the man at the funeral. How quickly Tim's father had been able to find Mary. Tracking spells wouldn't work for either the school or Grimmauld Place, but here..! Tim had been here almost three hours...

All of this raced through his mind as he leapt down the stairs three at a time, his heart about to beat out of his chest, both frustrated by and grateful for the anti apparition wards. He couldn't apparate down to the lobby, but if someone had snatched Tim, they'd have to make it past the wards to apparate themselves away.

He reached the door at the bottom, threw himself into the door, spilling out into the crowded lobby. He took a moment to look around the lobby, for anything out of place. People close to him, looked on in startled confusion.

On the far side, Harry saw a man dressed in the robes of a Healer's assistant hurrying towards the front door. The man glanced behind him and Harry saw he carried a child in his arms. Someone had replaced Tim's hospital gown with pajamas and the boy was sleeping, still.

"Stop him!" bellowed Harry, pointing his wand, he feared to use too strong a jinx, for fear of hitting Tim, "Stupefy!" Someone had the bad fortune to, in their panic, try to run, and collided with Harry's spell.

The man was two steps nearer the door.

"Out of the way! Get down!" roared Harry, leaping over chairs. He couldn't get a good shot in, not without hitting some civilian.

The man was at the door. Harry had covered half the distance to him, "Stupefy!" he tried again, as he dodged around another stupidly staring civilian, hitting and shattering the glass of the door.

Harry put on another burst of speed, and chased the man outside.

Just in time to see him turn in place and disapparate.

Harry stared at the place where the man had been, dumbly. A burning, wrenching pain seized Harry's chest. He fell to his knees.

This was a sensation he'd always been able to sense, waiting just out of sight, from the minute James had been born. This was the feeling Molly had always warded off, every time he and Ron did something stupid. This was the pain that had nearly killed her, in the year after Fred's death.

This is what had made his father face Voldemort alone, all those years ago. This was the sensation that had thrown his mother in front of a killing curse.

Harry couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

"Harry!"

From the tone of Ginny's voice, she had seen the man disapparate with their son too. He turned to squint up at her, her wand drawn in her shaking hand, "I was too late...Ginny...I'm sorry..." his voice was shaking and didn't sound like his.

"Oh." That single syllable conveyed utter devastation. Ginny had her hand over her mouth, fighting back tears. She knelt down beside him, to put her arms around him, there in the street.

"We'll find him, we'll find him." said Harry in her ear. A mantra against losing his mind to the awful despair that was welling up inside him, "I swear, we'll find him."