The Knight Bus appeared almost instantly with a loud bang the moment Harry extended his wand. He had removed the disillusionment charms in the alley where last year the Dementors had attacked him and Dudley, then stepped out of it once he checked that no one had noticed them. Stan was nice as always, and commented on how familiar he looked to him, but could not place were he had seen the teen. Harry told him they had not met before, and had refused to say much about him or his companions. He did introduce himself as Duncan Evans, his aunt Petunia Thompson-Evans – she had told him that was her real parents’ last name and that she did not plan on going by the name Dursley ever again- and her son Dudley.

After paying the teen scanned the bus. There were a few passengers who had to be dropped off before them, the bus always dropped people in the order they arrived. So Harry herded his stunned and wide eyed relatives towards the beds on the second floor, where they would have a bit more privacy. Then he suggested they get as comfortable as possible on the beds, telling them about the Knight bus’ policies and the wild ride.

Petunia and Dudley eyed everything wearily, and clung to the beds they were on with all their might. Harry had to suppress a chuckle at their faces, now that he knew what to expect he did not have that much trouble getting as comfortable as was possible. But his relatives were completely ignorant and turning green with each passing moment. They probably had more than a few questions about their ride and what they were seeing, but he could not explain anything there, too many ears. Harry also did not feel like enlightening them at the moment anyway. He suspected he would have to do a lot of explaining later, now that he knew that Dudley was a wizard, he was sure that could wait at least until tomorrow, hopefully longer than that.

‘Merlin! That is weird. Big D’s a wizard,’ and because of him, his cousin had not been able to attend Hogwarts as he probably would have. Harry felt slightly guilty, and at the same time relieved. He did not want to know how life would have been for him with Dudley at school. It would have probably been even more hellish than it got at times with all that happened to him during a normal term.

Harry was sure that getting Dudley up to date in what he should know about magic was going to be not just a bore, but among the hardest thing many had ever done. The fat boy had never been a good student, except for those things related with computers, in those his cousin excelled. The small teen sincerely hoped he was not the one who had to teach him. With the D.A. he found out that he enjoyed teaching a lot, but teaching Dudley Dursley was something else whatsoever. He could probably try anyone’s patience, even St. Mungo’s himself. Perhaps he should sick Snape on Big D.; that would definitely be interesting. He wondered who would kill who first; his bet was probably on Snape, since patience was definitely not the wizard’s forte. The thought almost brought a slightly evil smirk to his face.

As he was deep in thought, Harry had been absently trying to comb his unruly hair with his hands with no success. He owned a comb, but it was lost somewhere deep in his trunk and he really did not want to bother unshrinking the cumbersome thing and searching for it. His packing had left much to be desired organization wise, neither his heart, nor his mind had been on it. There was also the fact that the teen now knew he probably inherited his lack of organization from his mother. His… father was clearly obsessive about it. Five years as his student had taught him that much about the Potions Master.

Petunia had also been thinking. She really did not believe she could sleep at the moment. The ride was hellish and she was still too wound up about everything that happened that day. The woman was grateful that despite the all their wrong doings Harry had decided to help them get away from Vernon. There was no doubt in her mind that if she and her son had stayed they would probably be dead by now. The reason for Lils urgency on her letters became apparent. She probably ‘saw’ what could happen; her sister had once told her that although not often, she had been able to change the outcome of her visions. This was probably one of those times.

The muggle woman peered out the window watching the blurry sights and landscapes passing by for a moment, but at the speed they were travelling looking outside was making her dizzy. She then turned her attention to the contemplative figure of Lily’s child. Petunia could not help but admit the changes on her nephew’s appearance were astounding. Harry had always been a nice looking boy, but now… well he was striking, heads would turn in his direction whenever he went, even if he was very thin at the moment. She could only imagine what it would be when he reached his proper weight and had a growth spurtt.

A couple of the hags on the bus had ogled Harry with rather hungry looks when they boarded, and they kept turning to look at the boy every once in a while during their ride. She wondered how her nephew ended looking like that. Lily had told her in her letters a lot about the man that was the boy’s father, and she had been quite clear that he was actually very ugly; she on the other hand had always been considered a beauty, even if she had been too modest to admit it. The surprising combination of both mother and father resulted in a very handsome boy. The long hair suited his features quite well; leaving it below his shoulders would be a nice comfortable length.

Coming out of her reverie, Petunia spared a look at her son. He was doing as he always did when on a trip. The moment Dudley’s head touched the pillow he was out like a light. In this case it was a blessing as the ride was enough to give motion sickness to the stoutest person. Assured that her offspring was alright, the skinny woman went back to observing Harry, and she noticed his predicament. Without much thought she took out her hairbrush from her handbag, and began carefully and gently to untangle the mass of hair. Her actions startled the teen and he flinched slightly. Looking at her through narrowed, suspicious eyes he asked her.

“What are you doing?” The distrust in his voice was evident and she stopped her ministrations.

“Combing your hair,” was her response before she renewed her surprisingly gentle brushing. The last time she had combed someone’s hair was before Lily went to the magic school. Her hair had reached the middle of her back then. It was very similar to her son’s, except in colour.

“I can see that,” he snapped. “But… why? Why are you being… nice to me?”

“Because I should have been from the moment that… man left you at our door.” She paused for a moment then resolutely went on. She had had almost three weeks to think things over and start changing the way she thought about magic and her nephew. “Har… Duncan I can’t change years of neglecting you, but… but I would like to make it up to you. That is, if you allow me to,” Petunia told him quietly.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that Aunt Petunia?” His voice was cold, and a little of the anger he felt at them came through, even if he did not want to show it where they were. The Knight Bus was not the right place for it.

“It’s never too late to start again… at least that was what Lily told me in her letters. I’m… I’m not sure that it can ever apply to us… but we won’t know unless we try, don’t you think?” There was a hopeful tone in her voice that Harry could not miss. It actually drove the edge of his anger away, leaving confusion in its place.

“I don’t know,” he muttered feeling disconcerted. By all means he should have exploded at his aunt, but he was oddly detached. Probably he was still under the effects of the ‘pearly’ potion. Since Harry had not told her to stop, she had kept brushing his hair, slowly undoing the tangles in the unruly mess. It was extremely soothing, and the boy was surprised that he liked it very much.

“Think about it… Duncan. You are the only one Dudley and I have now, even if we are not related by blood. I suspect that at the moment –until you know what your father will do- it is the same for you. There is also no need to decide today, we all need to do a lot of thinking.”

Harry realized that she was right. He was completely alone now. Si… Sirius was dead, and up until he had read his Mum’s letter, he had considered him his only link to family. Now there was Snape, his… father. But the man was like a wildcard in a game; and Harry really did not believe the Potions Master would accept him as his son. The man positively hated him; for the wrong reasons, true. But the teen did not believe he would easily change what he thought about him, although not looking like a carbon copy of James Potter might help a little bit.

Harry really needed to do some thinking; his Aunt was offering him to be his family, like it should have been, and she did sound and look sincere. He just could not bring himself to trust that she would not discard him again once she was back on her feet. That would hurt more than what they had already done. Because it would really be his fault this time for being naïve.

The boy finally shrugged pushing his jumbled thoughts aside, but he let her finish with his hair. In a way he began relishing the caring human touch he had been deprived off since his parents died. He could probably get addicted to having someone brush his hair, it was… nice and very soothing. Petunia ended braiding it to keep it in a semblance of order and using an elastic band she carried in her purse to tie it. She then suggested that he cut it, at least an inch or two below his shoulder. His kind of hair was easier to keep in order when it was long. Harry silently agreed with her, if there was no problem with it at Hogwarts -he did not recall seeing any boys with long hair- perhaps he would leave it slightly longer than Snape’s. Afterwards they did not speak, but both sat deep in thought.

Thinking about Hogwarts sent Harry’s mind spiralling in Hermione’s and Ron’s direction. What would his friends think about the change? Hermione might not have too much of a problem, she was the more level-headed of them. She would surely understand that he had not known about his relationship with the Potions Master before he read his Mum’s letter. But knowing Ron, he was probably going to fly off his handle.

Ron was most likely going to consider the fact that the ‘greasy git’ was his father a personal affront on Harry’s part. The teen did not want to loose his best friend, but Ronald Weasley disliked Snape and anything Slytherin with a passion; however biased that opinion was. You could not judge a whole House based on the actions of a few that much Harry had been able to learn during his tragic fifth year. Also, in Harry’s opinion, lying to his best friend was not an option, seeing how much he had changed and looked a lot like their potions Professor. Well, he would have to deal with it when the time came, preferably with Hermione close by if not in the same room, and hope Ron would be reasonable in the end.

Thinking about Ron’s reaction made Harry begin to wonder if it had been such a good idea to remove the glamorie, but then he remembered his mother words telling him that it would wear off on its own before the start of term. So there really was no choice about changing his appearance. The teen sighed; he felt exhausted. It had been an emotionally charged day, too much had happened and he had not even begun to recover from the shock of seeing his Godfather die, and learning a few hours later about the bloody Prophesy. But tired as he was, he did not want to go to sleep, and had to thank the potion that he was reacting calmly. Without it he would have probably been carted to St. Mungos as a nut case.

The bus ride was not as long as Harry had first believed and soon they were standing outside the Leaky Cauldron. Before entering, he warned his aunt and Dudley to let him speak and do all the dealings. They should also do their best to avoid gaping and staring at the place and the people inside. Petunia had agreed to let him do the talking since she really knew nothing about the wizarding world, but she was not sure she could appear calm. Not because she was alarmed or even disgusted by being in a magical place, but because she was really too stressed out.

Dudley promised to do his best though, which surprised Harry. Big D was really scared of magic, or at least had been, since so far he seemed to be holding on without having to grab his butt to protect it. The large teen pointed out that it had been a hard day for everyone, and that their nerves were more than slightly frayed, he would do his best but there were really no guarantees.

With those promises the trio followed Harry into the ancient looking pub. Luckily for them the place had very little people around, and no one really paid much attention to the newcomers. Harry immediately took the lead and went to the back where the bar was located, while Petunia and Dudley looked around doing their best not to gawk or appear too muggle. Tom, the Leaky Cauldron’s owner, was behind the counter apparently just ordering some of the glasses. The teen introduced himself, in the soft polite way he always had, making sure to pretend not to know the older wizard or the place.

Tom did not remember booking the room, but Harry explained that the reservation for that specific date had been done a long time ago, via delayed spell. After consulting his books, the inn keeper found it lodged in his ledger. A suite with three rooms –his best- for a Mr. Duncan Evans; the date in which it was reserved did not appear, but it was marked as not cancellable. He knew that was the way some seers operated, and he really wished they did not do that. It tended to mess some of his plans, especially when it was close to start of term at Hogwarts. Those delayed spells only activated on the date they were set up to, so sometimes he ended overbooking and having to expand the inn to accommodate the extra guests, which was always troublesome. At least Mr. Evans had arrived at the start of the summer break when the Leaky Cauldron had several unoccupied rooms.

Shaking his head slightly chagrined at seer antics, the barkeep suggested the trio should have some dinner while he had his house-elves ready the room for them, the cost of the suite included two meals, breakfast or lunch, and dinner. Glancing at his relatives, but especially at Dudley, Harry decided that dinner was not a bad idea, so he looked over for an out of the way place to sit. He did not want to draw too much attention to himself, although he was noticing that his new looks seemed to be doing the work that his scar used to do anyway. The teen was disconcerted. He considered himself quite oblivious to female attention most of the times, but at least three of the witches in the room were staring at him in a way that was anything BUT innocent. Harry shivered, he suspected his ego should be having a boost when older and actually quite attractive witches had their sights on him. He, after all, was a ‘healthy’ teenager and in Snape’s words a walking and taking hormone, but instead the attention he was receiving was making him feel decidedly uncomfortable, and began wondering if looking more… Snape-ish would have been so bad after all.

Doing his best to appear non-plussed by the witches’ attention, Harry found a nice booth near the stairs at the back of the pub, and the three of them headed there. It was only as he approached that he noticed the occupant of the booth beside it and he stopped dead on his tracks, as he stared at the young witch. He knew something must be wrong for her to be there after returning from Hogwarts. He recovered quickly and had his relatives sit at the table and then helped them order dinner.

For a few moments Harry debated what to do, before he finally decided to approach her. He needed to hide his identity from most of the wizarding world, but he would not hide from his friends, especially when they seemed to be in need of help. Harry informed his Aunt that one of his best friends was sitting behind them, and appeared to need someone to talk to, so he was going to sit with her, Petunia just nodded as she took a sip of the calming herbal tea he ordered for her.

Hermione sat alone in the booth with a half full and rapidly warming butterbeer. Her school trunk was on the floor beside her, as well as Crookshanks carrier. The yellow eyed menace still in it, and not looking very happy about it. The young witch seemed to be staring dejectedly into space, and not really aware of her surroundings. This bothered the boy, as she did not even notice when the table behind her was taken.

It worried Harry to see her there, looking downright depressed, which was beyond odd for her. He could not remember seeing her depressed… well at least not after the troll incident in their first year. So seeing her like that now just seemed… wrong. Wasn’t she supposed to be with her parents? Had something happened to them? A sliver of panic threatened to surface, was she attacked by Death Eaters? His mother’s potion managed to calm him before the panic took hold, and he observed her closely. From what he could tell she was alone, and she did not seem hurt, only extremely sad and troubled.

“Hello,” he said softly. Hermione was startled for a moment; she had not noticed when he stood beside her. The young witch was clearly surprised to have attracted anyone’s attention; she had chosen that booth because it was away from the busy parts of the pub. Hermione absently gazed at him, and then did a double take, her eyes wide. “You seem to be in need of someone to talk to, do you mind if I sit?” Harry asked in that silky voice he now possessed and that despite being so similar to his father’s, was able to project warmth and some concern.

“Do I know you?” She countered, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, which brought a warm pleased expression to the youth’s face. Hermione was confused by his behaviour, why would he be… pleased by her distrust?

The boy standing before her was probably the handsomest guy Hermione had ever seen and well, so far, Draco Malfoy had had that place even if he was a git and she hated his guts. He looked to be around her age, his eyes were an incredible shade of green that she was sure she had seen before, and his voice was soft like velvet and oddly familiar. In her experience, bushy haired bookworms like herself did not attract the attention of handsome boys. Well Harry was quite good looking, but it was different, he was her friend it had nothing to do with looks.

Hermione inwardly sighed; with the recent events at the Ministry of Magic she could not be too cautious, despite the little voice that tried to boost her ego a bit. It kept telling her that she should trust her looks more. That catching a guy’s attention was not too farfetched. She was not ugly. Hermione squashed that voice; she knew she was not a winner in the beauty department. She returned her attention to the stranger; he looked quite familiar, she just could not place exactly where she had seen that face or who it reminded her off.

“You actually do know me ‘Mione. Just not looking like this. Can I sit here?” He gestured the seat beside her. Hermione hesitated; she just could not identify who this guy was, although it was less than a handful of people called her that way. Ron and Harry included. Her eyes immediately shot to the teen’s forehead as it was in plain view -he was more around Harry’s height; he was too short to be Ron - only to find it free of the famous scar.

She frowned; Harry was the only one of those she knew capable of casting a strong full face and hair glamorie, as detailed as the one she was seeing, if it indeed was a glamorie. But a curse scar could not be hidden by that spell. He smiled widely now, and his eyes almost twinkled like Dumbledore’s. Merlin, the guy was hot! Then he tilted his head indicating that he was waiting for an answer, this made her furrow her brow again. The mannerism was very much like Harry’s, but if it was indeed her best friend, she wondered how he had managed to cast a spell during the summer break. Hogwarts students were not allowed to use magic the moment they left the Hogwarts Express.

“Yes, you can. But you still have the advantage of me,” Hermione allowed him to sit and saw the boy pull out his wand from his sleeve, and cast an extremely powerful silencing spell. She knew that one, they had taught it to the D.A. The young witch felt the magical surge and felt that she should recognize it. It was too familiar, even if she did not remember ever feeling it quite that strong. She looked puzzled at the teen; he must be older than he looked since he was using magic. So he could not be one of her year mates. Even if she had the feeling that the hot guy before her was indeed Harry Potter probably praying a prank on her.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t a clue?” He teased her raising an eyebrow –something Harry could not do- in a manner that reminded her of Snape. And that was when she realized who the guy looked and sounded like. He had a very strong resemblance to the Potions Master, although he looked way better than the ugly and greasy Professor.

“I might have,” she admitted. “But I’d rather you introduced yourself.”

“I won’t say my name out loud. Despite the silencing charm, someone might be able to find out and at the moment it’s not safe for neither of us. I will give you a clue as to who I am though. Just don’t say my old name in public please, all right?”

“All right, so who are you then?” She agreed, although with what he said she was almost positive it was Harry.

“As of today I’m called Duncan Harold Evans, though depending on some… things I might have to add another name at the end. This name might not sound familiar, but my relatives’ last name might… it’s Dursley…” She interrupted him with a gasp of realization and wide surprised eyes. She was about to call him Harry when he placed a hand on her mouth to stop her. “Remember, don’t say it, it’s not safe ‘Mione.”

“Of course… Duncan,” Hermione’s voice was slightly shaky.

So she was right, it was Harry. The young witch could not believe that she would find her best friend there, and just when she needed help. Although she had to wonder what he was doing at the Leaky Cauldron wearing a glamorie that actually drew attention to him, probably more than his scar ever did. Not that she was minding looking at Harry’s spell work at the moment. A little eye candy never hurt, even if it was her best friend. Also, how was he able to do magic? Shouldn’t the Ministry have sent him a warning? Wasn’t he afraid to be expelled?

“But… what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your relatives? Why are you doing magic? You’re not supposed to...” She began questioning him, not giving him a chance to respond.

“It’s a rather complicated story ‘Mione and I can’t tell you all of it down here.” He sighed and shook his head a little. What would she think about all that happened to him? “But my aunt, cousin and I have a suite here; we can talk there after dinner. It came with several privacy spells, and I have a list of a few others that might make it more secure.”

“I see… So… what can you tell me now?” She was curious. From what Harry had told them of his relatives, they would not be caught dead in a magical place, and her best friend would not go anywhere with them; at least not willingly.

“Things there got really bad…” he began seriously and uncomfortable. He much rather forget what happened that afternoon. “My uncle started drinking when he lost his job some months ago. He blamed me, but since I wasn’t there he took it all out on my aunt, just because she was supposedly related to…”

“Oh dear, that’s awful! He beat your aunt?” Hermione interrupted him, reasoning things out like she usually did. He just nodded confirming it. She then went on. “And H… Duncan, she’s your Mum’s sister, there’s no supposition there.”

“Actually she’s not really related by blood to my mother. You see… she was adopted,” he told her flatly and she gasped at the implications. “Anyway, my uncle became really violent against his own family; he almost killed my aunt and me today. That’s why we left, it was too dangerous for us to remain at the house; and before you berate me about the order…” he whispered the name. And then went on in a cold furious tone of voice that again reminded her eerily of Snape’s. “No one came to our aid, not a soul. I definitely lost my trust in them. This is the second time they leave me to fend for myself when they promised to protect me. I won’t wait for a third time. Vernon really wanted to kill me ‘Mione. He would have if we stayed; when we were leaving he came back with some sort of gun.” She gasped in shock, eyes wide. “As it is, I now owe my life to my aunt and Dudley.”

“But… but at the station they…” she stuttered appalled but did not finish her sentence when Tom approached them, and entered the silenced bubble, if he noticed the charm he did not show it.

“Mr. Evans your room is ready. Your family is already dinning, would you like to order something for you and the lovely Lady?”

“Umm… yeah,” Harry said a bit awkwardly, Hermione had blushed at the barkeep’s words. At that moment Crookshanks decided to yowl. He was angry at being caged, and Harry realized that his best friend probably had no room to stay. Taking a quick decision he regained his composure and addressed the barkeep. “Tom, can another room be added to the suite?”

“Yes of course Mr. Evans, there would be an additional charge of twelve galleons a night, meals included.”

“That’s all right; you must cancel your room then Hermione. My aunt won’t forgive you if you stay on your own, she’ll want to catch up on the gossip.” She caught up on what he was offering and followed his lead. Years of getting into mischief together gave them the practice for this.

“I had not booked a room yet… I really wouldn’t like to impose Duncan, even if it’s been a couple of years since we’ve seen each other.”

“Nonsense, it’s no problem at all. She’ll be delighted,” Harry insisted and they settled the room. Tom sent a house-elf to pick Hermione’s trunk and cat carrier and send them to the suite. He was to set the kneazle free and provide him with milk, water and food. Then they ordered their dinner and two butterbeers, which popped on the table once the barkeep had reached the back of the pub.

“Do you think that sounded believable?” Harry asked a bit worried after he took a swig of his butterbeer. He was not a bad liar per se, but he did not like to lie in the first place; and the small story was a spurt of the moment thing that they both would have to remember and work on now that he had set it into motion.

“It might need a bit of work to polish it, and we’ll have to ensure your relatives cooperation, but it does explain why we’re both sitting together chatting so… amiably.” She paused for a moment then added. “Thank you… Duncan, God it’s going to be a bit hard to get used to the name. I really had no place to stay,” her voice broke a bit and her lip quivered like she was about to cry.

“Why don’t you tell me why are you here? I can finish my tale at the suite. I expected you to be safe at home with your parents by now.” He saw her bite her lip again, her eyes water slightly, and then she took a deep shaky breath.

“My… my parents are getting divorced,” she stopped to take another deep breath.

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that ‘Mione… I… I really don’t know what to say, or what to do to help,” he spoke softly with sincere concern for her. Hermione gave him a watery smile.

“You’ve already helped… I had no where to go… no money. Not even a way to tell people what’s going on.”

“Then it’s settled you’ll spend the summer with me, and don’t worry about money. I suspect there’s enough in the vaults to support all of us.” He informed her, in his mind there was no question about keeping her close the whole summer.

“I really don’t want to be a bur…” She began only to have him interrupt her.

“You’re not, and never will be. You’re my best friend, the truer of the two of you. He’s turned his back on me once, almost did a couple of times before, and probably will do it again once he learns some things I just found out today. But you… you haven’t turned on me ‘Mione. Be sure I’ll be by your side whenever you need me.” Harry told her with sincerity and complete conviction. His words were what finally made her cry; she had not allowed herself to do it when her situation had been so uncertain. He scooted to her side, and awkwardly placed an arm on her shoulders. She buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him while she cried softly; their dinner forgotten.

“Things between them have been bad for… for a while,” she began between sobs. “But… they had not wanted to tell me. You know… not wanting to worry me, they thought that I had enough with my grades and all that the three of us usually get into.

I knew they fought more often, though they… they tried to hide it. I just… didn’t see this coming. Mum… Mum had an affair with a client, during our fourth year. She… was living with him when I returned for the break… I noticed Dad was acting odd and Mum… supposedly travelled to several congresses. Now I understand why they did not object when I spent a large part of the summer at Headquarters last year.

When I left, Mum went back to… to HIM! And… and… she… she only came back on winter break so I would not… I would not suspect. I knew something was wrong! I just… I… I was afraid to ask! Can you believe it? I’m a Gryffindor and I was afraid!”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that ‘Mione. I learned last term that we’d be more stupid than Malfoy if we were not able to admit we’re afraid. I would probably have been afraid to ask too… Do you want to go on?” He inquired softly not wanting to push her. She nodded, a bit more reassured by Harry’s words.

“We certainly aren’t more stupid than him. Only Crabbe and Goyle have that dubious honour. Besides, where would that leave us?” She said trying to lighten the weight in her heart a bit. She was not really successful. “Today after they picked me up, they started arguing… oh Merlin it was awful! Mum and Dad rarely argued in front of me, on those occasions they did it… it was not snarling at each other like wild animals, like… like today. I… I could only watch and… try to talk them into calming down. It was then that they finally told me the truth. Mum wanted me to take sides… but I… I couldn’t… I love them both… so I…”

“So you ran away because you can’t choose between them,” Harry finished putting everything together. She nodded and cleaned the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

“I’m not sure if things are going to be better with your parents ‘Mione, but count on me to be there… Do they know where you are? I can send Hed with a letter so they don’t worry.”

“That’ll… that’ll be good, perhaps not tell them where I am. I really don’t want to have to choose sides. But they probably want to know that I’m alright, I… I just left while they were at each other’s throats.”