A/N: Hello dear readers, apologies for the ridiculously long wait. But I'm sure you know how it is when real life barges in through the door. I am also going to give you a recommendation: Plan your timeline better. I miss-calculated the time difference I had planned to use, which meant I had to go back and adjust a bit in the previous chapter and will have to try and compensate for it in this and probably future chapters. Soo... Plan your stuff better. Just a tip from the coach. Been there, done that, and all that rot you know.

So without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter eleven – Next morning

When Harry awoke the following morning, it was to the feeling of fur against his hand, the smell of coffee and toast, and the sound of a car passing by outside.

Wait, a car? Harry groggily thought and opened his eyes. It took a few moments of surveying the blurry room before he remembered that he wasn't at Hogwarts, but in some faraway land with his father. He looked down to see the big deer sleep calmly on the floor beside him. Not even considering the possibilities of accidentally waking his father up, he begun to lightly stroke Prongs' fur. It was somewhat bristle, and not soft like he had expected. He quickly snatched his hand back though as Prongs' ear twitched, but he didn't appear to have woken up.

For the first few minutes Harry simply lay there, looking at his father and marvelling over him being alive and well. Soon enough though nature called and he slipped out the bed, tipping out into the hall where he stopped. Now where was the loo?

"If you're looking for the rest room, it's in the hall, first door on your right when you get down", a gruff voice startled him from below. He looked down the stairs and saw a middle aged man in glasses stand there with a steaming cup in his hand. Realizing that this must be the owner of the house Harry slowly walked down the stairs and stopped in front of the man.

"Hello", he said shyly. Just how did you greet someone in whose house you've entered and slept in without asking first? The one who had saved your father's life? The man took a sip of his coffee.

"Morning. Mind telling me your name, kid?"

"It's Harry Potter, sir."

The man leaned forward and looked closer at him, making the fourteen year old fidget under the scrutiny.

"Hrmf. You do look different from the pictures with light hair. Is your father still sleeping?"

"Yes sir. Uhm, thank you. For saving my dad, I mean."

"You're welcome. Go freshen yourself up, kid, there'll be breakfast in the kitchen when you're done."

The man – was it Knox? – headed off into another room which seemed to be the kitchen from what little Harry could see of it from his current angle before he slipped of himself into the loo. A few minutes later he re-joined the man in the kitchen, who gestured for him to sit down and it as downed the last of his coffee.

"Now, I'll have to leave for work, so listen up", Knox said as he put the cup down in the sink and grabbed his coat. "Don't leave the house without me or your old man, don't break anything and don't spoil your dad just because he has a hangover. And if you're still hungry or want to eat something later on, feel free to grab something. You're too small for your age and I've seen exactly what malnourishment can do to the body."

Harry sipped on the juice. "Uhm… just what do you work with, sir?"

"I'm a coroner."

"Coroner? Isn't that someone who cuts up bodies to find out how they died?"

Knox snorted and shrugged on his coat. "It's a bit more advanced than that but it's close enough. I'll see you later."

Harry sat unmoving in the kitchen for a minute after the man left before he shook his head and started to eat. This must be the strangest morning he had ever had.

After finishing his breakfast and doing the dishes, Harry looked around the house. It had an overall cosy feeling. Downstairs there was apart from the loo and the kitchen a laundry room and living room, and he also found a stairway to a basement, though he didn't go down there. He walked up the stairs and observed the photographs hanging on the wall at the same time. All of them depictured a boy with a slight resemblance to Mr. Knox, and Harry realized it had to be his son, though it didn't seem like he lived here though. Had he moved out perhaps?

Arriving to the top floor, he carefully peeked into the rooms. The first one was where he had slept, and he saw that his father was still snoozing in his animagus form. The next two didn't take long time to look through, as it seemed to be the master bedroom and what Harry suspected was the son's old room judging by the child-sized bed he had spotted. Both rooms felt too personal for him to invade on, so he quickly closed the door to those.

The last one however seemed to be a makeshift library, with old fashioned school posters showing various parts of the human anatomy fastened on the wall. Harry stepped into the room and curiously started to browse amongst the books. There weren't many fictional books – the few he could see were on the bottom shelf, with a collection of fairy tales, romance and a couple of adventures. He had expected thriller and crime novels just by judging him from his brief meeting with the man, but then again, considering it was what the man worked with Harry supposed he wouldn't have been too keen to read about it either. He had plenty of medical books though, and Harry pulled out an old one which seemed to be on an introduction level.

Promptly sitting down on the floor, he opened the book and began to read. It wasn't like he had anything better to do right now anyway.

Sometime later Harry got up from the floor and stretched. The book had been surprisingly interesting, and he wondered if Madam Pomphrey had studied similar books to become a healer. He fiddled with the hem on his pyjamas and looked at the clock. It was already noon, and he wondered what would be served in the Great Hall-

He froze for a moment. It was Tuesday today.

It was noon.

He wasn't at Hogwarts.

Professor McGonagall is going to kill me! he thought as he dashed to the guest room.

"DAD!" he screamed.

The animagus shot up but crashed down again just as fast, failing to get up on two legs in his current shape. Groggily shaking his head, his father turned back into a human.

"Wha…?"

"Dad, I've missed school!"

His father blinked slowly and scratched his neck. "I'm glad you're taking your studies seriously son, but aren't you exaggerating the situation a bit?"

"You're not the one who has to face Professor McGonagall! Seriously, it's lunchtime now and I had Transfiguration first thing in the morning!"

"Did you remember to count in the time difference?"

"Ah, oh, no not really, but it's not so big, is it?"

"Harry, it kind of is. When Dipsy picked you up it was around nine o'clock, right? And when you arrived here, it was nearing six in the morning. That's a nine hour difference, so you have a few hours left before you have to panic."

James let out a yawn and got up on wobbly feet, while Harry tried and failed to hide his embarrassed blush. His father stumbled over to him and put his arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry about it, sonny. It was a long day for both of us yesterday, some miscalculations are fine. Now how about we get something to eat? I don't know about you, but I could kill right now for a full English breakfast."

After the greasy meal the both of them settled down with cups of tea in the living room couch. James looked at his son over the rim of the mug.

"Do you really want to go back to school right away?" he bluntly asked. "Because we can easily pull you out a few days if you want to."

Harry perked up at that. "Really? It won't be any problems if we do that?"

"Not at all, I'll just have to write a letter and possibly blood sign it."

"Blood sign?"

"Normally it's only used on official documents and some business contracts, but you can also use it as an insurance to the recipient that the writer is who they say they are, which we will need since they don't know who 'Maes Hughes' is."

"Why not use your real name?"

"There's a few reasons for that. The first one is that Maes Hughes is my name just as much James Potter is, and I've grown to be more used to Maes by now. Secondly I don't want to reveal to the magical community yet that I am alive. I do plan on coming along with you to England and to look into some stuff regarding Voldemort, but I might be hindered if they know just who I am. If I instead pose as an Investigator or even a civilian I can sniff around in the shadows much easier."

"Oh. So how does a blood sign work?"

"Usually you sign with an item known as blood quill, but as they're only available in the ministry and Gringotts, you can also prick a finger a smear a drop of blood by the signature. It's just enough for them to use a spell to confirm the blood and the signature matches, but not enough to use to something. All we need is to add a reason for why we're temporarily pulling you out."

"Can't we use the Tournament as the cause?"

"Tournament? What tournament?"

Harry squirmed and chewed on his lip as he realized his father hadn't been informed of what had happened at school. Taking a deep breath, he began to explain, and by the end of it James' knuckles where white and his jaw hard. Slamming the mug onto the table he got up and began to pace wile ranting about all the things he would do to the one who had put in Harry's name when they found them and then continued with some rather colourful threats about Dumbledore and what he would do to him for not preventing it in the first place. After a while his father sat down again and buried his face in his hands. Harry put his hand on his father's shoulder.

"Dad…? Are you okay?"

"…Yeah, I'm fine," he answered and pulled his son onto his lap, holding him tightly. "I'm just worried."

Harry squirmed out of his father's lap, not enjoying feeling like a toddler. James chuckled humourlessly and got up.

"Let's go write that letter, kid. There's also a few certain spells I'd like to show you."

"Really? What kind of spells are they?"

"Oh you'll see. It will be the start of some good, old fashioned mischief."

With that he pulled out some papers and envelopes from a drawer and began to write.

And if he had more fun than was proportionally reasonable, well, who was he to complain?

Harry glanced at the letter in trepidation.

"…Are you really going to send that to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes. Now, let's go and finish your mother's coffers before we ask Dipsy to send the letter."

"Coffers?"

"Oh you're gonna love them", James said and began to explain in details how he had engraved the last connecting runes and how they were constructed. Harry grinned.

"Wow that sounds brilliant. And I'm really looking forward to not needing Dipsy to transport me; it was bloody awful."

"Wizarding ways of travel tend to be. And usually, the longer the distance the worse the experience is, so at least your future trips won't be quite as awful. Now let's see… where did I put them… Aha! There they are."

Harry looked at the trunks his father pulled out. In his opinions they looked like normal wizarding trunks, with some pattern he realized was neatly carved runes. James plopped down on the floor in front of them and signed for Harry to sit down beside him before he cut his finger and began to write the runes.

"So why do you use blood?" Harry asked.

"It's to make it easier to connect them", James explained. "Think of it as trying to move a heavy object with wheels instead of without. It's still heavy, but not as heavy as it would be without and it's much easier to steer it."

"Oh, I thought it was to make it so only family members could use it."

"Nah, many have tried but yet no-one have succeeded with that. The closest there is would be the Fidelius charm, but that one isn't fail-proof either."

Harry glowered. "Because you can be betrayed."

"Yes. But what has been done is done, all we can do now is to attempt damage control and improve ourselves. There, that was the last rune! Now, look and learn as I activate the runes."

The young wizard look at his father as he placed his hands on each trunk and took a few steadying breaths. At first nothing seemed to happen, but soon the runes began to glow with a slowly increasing strength. But he also noted that his father began to look sweaty and slightly shaking. Just as he about to put his hand on James' shoulder the glow abruptly disappeared and his father gasped before flopping down on his back.

"DAD!" Harry screamed.

"Hah… hah… I'm fine, kiddo… Just a bit tired."

"A bit?! You're calling that a bit?! Are you bloody mental?"

"Heh, it's not that bad", he said and patted Harry on the arm, calming the teen. "I'll be right as rain in a moment. Hey, do you want to be the first one to pass through them?"

Harry perked up. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, kid. Go on, your old man isn't going anywhere."

The young wizard scooted over to the closest trunk and opened the lid. It was like looking into an empty room from the ceiling, with a sturdy ladder just below him. Eager to explore he climbed down and looked around. It was about the same size as the Gryffindor common room, with plain wood on the floor, the walls and the ceiling. But at a closer look he could see there were runes carved on the battens, looking just like the trunks' outsides. Disappointed there weren't more to see he climbed up the second ladder and opened the lid, peeking out of the second trunk. James grinned at him.

"Did you like it son?"

"Yeah it's brilliant!" Harry said and climbed out. "Bit empty, though."

"Eh, we can put up some paintings there and maybe a couch. Dipsy!"

CRACK!

"Master Maes called for Dipsy?"

"Yes. I have two errands for you. First, I need you to take one of the coffers to Potter manor. Secondly, I need you to owl this letter so Dumbledore receives it when he's in the Great Hall. Can you do it for me?"

Dipsy huffed. "Of course I cans! I is old, not useless. Anything else?"

"No that is all. Thank you, Dipsy."

With another crack the elf was gone along with the named items. James turned to Harry.

"I've planned for us to go out in a bit, so why don't you take a shower while I find you some clean clothes?"

"We're going out? Where?"

James grin widened.

"Oh you'll see. I promise; you are going to love it."

The morning of the first of November – just as Dumbledore was about to leave his office for breakfast – Minerva barged in, looking quite concerned.

"Albus, do you know where Mr. Potter is? I was just told by Ms. Granger that he's neither in the dorms nor in the common room."

Albus stroke his beard. "I'm afraid I have no idea. Perhaps he got up extra early to avoid the crowds? Let's go to the Great Hall and if he does not show during breakfast we'll arrange a search party for him."

They both tried to show a calm demeanour in front of the students, but as breakfast trickled by without a sign of Harry both Dumbledore and McGonagall began to fidget and glance at each other. Albus was about to call for a house elf to ask if he had been to the kitchen, but before he could an owl dropped a red, quivering letter before the Headmaster. Something which was not missed by the students who fell silent, staring at the smoking envelope. Who dared to send Albus Dumbledore a howler?

Knowing ignoring the letter would make it much louder, Albus gingerly opened the seal and let it speak, revealing a stern and furious male voice.

Headmaster Dumbledore!

How could you fail stopping people from entering others into this nefarious tournament – which was cancelled for a reason I might add. Honestly, how could you think a simple age-line would be enough? Why didn't you ensure that it would only accept notes from those who posted their own names? Or that the goblet itself could not be manipulated? Had you done this Harry would not have been forced into a competition he didn't want to enter at all. For this reason I am withdrawing Harry from school a few days and I have attached the necessary paperwork. Oh, and one more thing: I will come back along with Harry, and when we return I expect a full investigation to have been initiated. And trust me; I will take part of those reports.

Respectfully
Maes Hughes

The letter tore itself into pieces, revealing a normal, white muggle envelope in its place.

"Good heavens!" Minerva exclaimed. "Last time I saw someone send a howler with an attachment was when James bragged about Harry's birth and sent us a photograph. Albus, just who is this Maes Hughes?"

Albus hummed. "Alas, I am afraid I have never heard of him. Perhaps the attachment will reveal more?"

Pulling out a paper he read through it and found it to indeed be a form for temporarily withdrawing Harry, blood smeared signatures from by both Mr. Hughes and Mr. Potter. He threw the charms to test the signatures validation, and they briefly glowed a light blue in confirmation. Frowning he cast a different charm to see if he could reveal what sort of relation it was between them but it was too little blood to show anything more than that it was close enough to approve the withdrawal. Minerva huffed.

"Well obviously the paperwork is correct. But I have to admit I though only parents or guardians could withdraw a student."

"So did I", muttered Dumbledore. "But it will have to wait. Minerva, could you ask young Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger if Harry have mentioned this man? I will send a letter to Mr. Potter's relatives and Gringotts to see if either of them knows who he is. Alastor, would you mind starting the investigation?"

The old auror grunted. "Sure. So what will you do to return Mr. Potter to school?"

Albus sighed. "For now, nothing. The papers are in order and legally there is nothing we can do until a week has passed."

All he could do was hope.

A/N: Sorry if I disappointed you with a filler like chapter, but there were some things I felt I had to put in in order to make future chapters sensible, and this was the best place to put them. I hope you enjoyed it anyway!