Author's Note: This fic is not intended to strictly adhere to canon. Though many (or most) of its characters and recognizable elements of the plot and/or text are of course property of JKR, this story is written as AU. I don't own anything except my original character(s) and plot that deviates from the Harry Potter canon universe.

So apparently the 'line of dashes' that I mentioned and thought I had begun using a few chapters back – lines that I intended to separate the little italicized recap at the beginning of a chapter from the body of the new chapter itself – haven't been showing up…sorry if that's caused any confusion!

Chapter 11: Revelations

"You were wrong when you said the first time that you and Harry ever saw each other was today at King's Cross. I'm sure you don't remember, but you two have seen each other before…"

Izzy evaluated the old man skeptically. How would he know if Harry and I had seen each other before today? I just met the man – not even half an hour ago! What are you playing at, you crafty old bugger?

His pale blue eyes twinkled anew behind half-moon spectacles as she answered, "Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"Well, you see…" he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "Once upon a time, I knew two remarkable boys – the best of friends. When the two boys grew to be men, married equally remarkable witches, and began having children of their own, their greatest hopes were that their children know the kind of friendship that they shared themselves. So the two men, who still spent a great deal of time with one another – even with their very busy grown-up lives, made sure to always bring their babies along when they met so that their children might play together and – with any luck – one day grow to be as great of friends as the two men."

He didn't know why he had decided to tell the story as if it was a nursery-rhyme – such style was obviously quite infantile to an eleven year old, even more so to one who had lived through all that Elizabeth had already.

Perhaps, by recounting it as a 'once upon a time…' tale, he had wanted to separate the story he told Elizabeth – of the great friendship that once existed between her father and Harry's – from the reality of her father's ultimate betrayal. After all, he did not wish to cause either child any more pain than he unknowingly already had.

Or maybe recounting the past as a fairytale wasn't for the children's sake at all. Perhaps it was his own method of coping with painful memories of the War, especially the betrayal and tragedy of the Marauders – memories which had (in his mind) become inexorably embodied by the two dark-headed children in front of him.

"The two men who were such great friends…" he looked at Elizabeth to confirm she had indeed been following the story.

"The two men were James Potter and Sirius Black – Harry's father and yours," he finished quietly.

"So our fathers were best friends?" she asked. He nodded.

"And Harry and I played together when we were babies?" she further clarified. Again, he nodded.

She chose a spot on the wall several feet to his right and stared at it as the gears in her little head began to turn. He knew she would probably need several minutes to wrap her brain around all the implications of his story and formulate the questions he knew she would want to ask. So he sat back, in his own thoughts, as he waited for her questions to come.

If it had been just Harry beginning his education at Hogwarts this year, he might not have had to recount the full story of the Black-Potter relationship and how it was relevant to the events that had occurred on October 31, 1981. But as it was, other students (or more likely, the parents of other students) would hear the name Black and gossip, especially if the little girl who held the name was obviously close friends with Harry Potter.

No, he had no choice really. If he didn't share his knowledge of their families' pasts with the two children upfront, they would still learn of almost all of it through the Hogwarts Rumor Mill. More likely than not, others' versions of events would be told in a much harsher light of exaggeration, half-truths, prejudice, speculation, and incompleteness. He would rather they heard the tragic reality of their pasts from himself.

But he'd wait until Harry was awake to tell them the full story, when both children could have the opportunity to ask whatever they needed. For now, though, he knew Elizabeth needed something to occupy her mind while she waited for Harry to wake.

"Professor, is that how Harry and I can talk then? Is it because we've known each other since we were babies?" she began with the first of what he assumed would be quite a few questions.

"I suppose one might say that, in a way, that contributed. What I believe to be the reason you two are so uniquely connected is the similarly unique scar you both share. That's right," he continued at her look of shock, "I know you have a scar to match the one on Harry's forehead. I must say, though, that Muggle – what's it called?...take-up?"

"Make-up," she corrected.

"Right, well, that Muggle make-up does do wonders at hiding it beneath your fringe. The things Muggles come up with sometimes astound me," he shook his head in wonder.

"And they can be downright useful in the magical world too. Your use of Muggle make-up is a perfect example – though I'm sure you had no idea of it when you applied it to yourself. You see, Elizabeth, if you had attempted to hide your scar using almost any magical means of disguise, a sufficiently powerful witch or wizard – such as myself…and likely Professor McGonagall as well – would have recognized that you were using a magical concealment to alter or hide some, if not all, of your physical features."

"As it is," he continued in explanation, "With just that Muggle make-up and your own hair covering the scar, no one would have ever known it was there – no matter how powerful they might be. It –"

"Well then, how did you know it was there?" she interrupted, regarding Dumbledore with suspicion.

"I, my dear, knew it was there beforehand. I saw the scars fresh on both your foreheads, the night that they were inflicted. But I believe that's a story for later, when Harry can join us."

He could tell where this conversation was beginning to lead and – not wanting to go in that direction until Harry was awake – decided to drop their conversation for a while, hoping she would do likewise and he would not have to find a means to divert her attention elsewhere.

"I believe I'll go discuss a few matters with Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, if you'll please excuse me?"

It was clearly a rhetorical request so she didn't bother responding. She just lay there, holding onto Harry, thinking about all that she had learned in the past few minutes.

Several hours later, Madam Pomfrey and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall sat in the nurse's personal office at one end of the Hospital Wing, quietly having tea. Hagrid had excused himself long ago to attend to the thestrals which had been left waiting, still fully harnessed, outside the school's main doors.

Madam Pomfrey had frequently left to check on her patient and the little girl that had fallen asleep on the bed with him but, as there had yet to be any significant visible improvement, the three adults just sat quietly waiting for some change and sporadically engaging in an occasional conversation.

Following her most recent trip to the main ward, Madam Pomfrey had returned with information on a different patient than the one they had been expecting an update on.

"I've just run several diagnostics on Miss Black, while she's still sleeping, and I have to say I'm not terribly impressed with her condition either. Oh, she's in nowhere near the state of Mister Potter but her health is far below what I'd prefer to see in an incoming first year student," Madam Pomfrey assessed.

"Specifically, Poppy?" Dumbledore wondered.

"Well, like Mister Potter she's terribly undersized – though it doesn't seem to be entirely nutrition-related. It's also likely to be partially genetic in her case – you remember how petit her mother always was, even at her full adult size. Malnutrition is still an issue for Elizabeth, however. She suffers from several nutritional deficiencies, just not to the severe degree in which Harry does. Where Harry looks to have been frequently starved, Elizabeth has been fed regularly but the meals were of poor nutritional content and of smaller portions than what her body truly required," she explained.

"Also like Mister Potter, she has had more than her fair share of broken bones. Not enough to definitively tell me that she too has suffered physical abuse at the hands of a caretaker though. She may just be clumsier than the average witch. Luckily, none of her breaks appear to have been recent and I assume she received professional medical care for most, if not all of them, since they all appear to have healed in the correct positions – unlike many of Mister Potter's previous breaks, which I will need to reset at some point."

She paused before continuing with the finding that most troubled her in Elizabeth's diagnostics.

"What concerns me most with Elizabeth is a congenital deformation in her left hip that has never been treated. Perhaps the Muggle healers were unable to identify it through any of their own diagnostic means or perhaps they had no available methods to treat such an issue. In either case, I imagine it has caused her a great deal of pain over the years and it surely would have prevented her from being able to move and play in exactly the same manner as her peers."

"I am able to treat the condition but it'll take at least two day's worth of Skele-gro treatment to fix it by removing the current femur and pelvis and then re-growing them in the correct shape. It will be fairly painful, but if she consents then she should regain the full-potential of joint mobility and normal use of her left leg," she concluded.

"With your permission, Headmaster, all I'll need is the approval of her guardians and Miss Black's own consent before beginning. I thought it might be best to get it done now, before the term really gets into full swing and while Harry's confined here anyway – since it doesn't seem that she'll be willing to leave his side anytime soon."

Professor McGonagall gave a slight uncharacteristic chuckle at Poppy's last observation, while the Headmaster grinned and regained a bit of the twinkle his eyes had lost at first hearing that Elizabeth's health was poor as well.

"If you believe it's the proper course of treatment, Poppy, then I defer to your vastly more knowledgeable opinion on this matter. As for the timing, I agree with your reasoning for wanting to begin right away. However, the approval of her guardians may prove to be a slightly trickier matter," he said, the last sentence spoken almost as a sigh.

"Albus?" - "Headmaster?" both witches seated in front of him questioned at the same time.

There was now no mistaking the sigh his mouth released, before he began his resigned explanation.

"I suppose if anyone at Hogwarts should be made aware of certain truths regarding Mister Potter and Miss Black, it should be you two. After all, Poppy, you are responsible for their medical care, to which upcoming revelations are likely to be relevant. And of course, Minerva, as Deputy Headmistress you've a right to be included in such a vital secret. You are also likely to be Harry and Elizabeth's Head of House as well – if Miss Black's earlier behaviour is any indication – just as you were to all four of their parents," he observed thoughtfully, grinning as he mentioned the spunk they had all clearly witnessed in Elizabeth earlier.

"I have a great deal of information to reveal, but I'd prefer to only have to do this once so I'd rather wait for both children to awaken before beginning – they deserve to know the full truth as well," he said.

"Poppy, might I use your Floo for a moment?" he politely asked.

"Of course, Headmaster. The Floo powder is just there on the mantle," she informed him as she pointed to a purple velvet pouch, held together by seams of bright red stitching and closed at the top by a draw-string tie.

It was indeed sitting on the mantle above the large fireplace that monopolized nearly an entire wall of Madam Pomfrey's office. The two witches watched the Headmaster retrieve the pouch with curiosity plain in their expressions, wondering what need he had for the Floo.

"I greatly appreciate it," he thanked as he opened the pouch of Floo powder and tossed just a pinch into flames as he made his way onto his knees – not the easiest of tasks for a man of his considerable age, however sprightly he might seem.

Once on his knees, he stuck his head forward so that it was enveloped by the emerald green flames while the remainder of his body stayed crouched on the hearth outside the fire.

"Andromeda Tonks," he called as his head entered the flames.

"Hello, Andromeda. How are you, my dear?"

"Good to hear. Ted and Nymphadora are also well I trust?"

Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were only privy to Dumbledore's side of the conversation. And while neither wished to appear to be eavesdropping on a possibly private conversation, both paid rapt attention to the conversation nonetheless and gleamed what they could from the one side available to them.

"Excellent. Well Andromeda, I'll get straight to the point. I'm sure you of all people were well aware that the Hogwarts student body was to be joined by two particular new first year additions this year…"

"Yes, yes, of course. Well, their arrival at the castle actually ended up taking place under less-than-desired circumstances…Calm down, Andromeda! I'm well aware!"

After several moments, during which it could be assumed the Headmaster was still receiving an earful from the hearth on the other side of the Floo fire, Dumbledore was finally able to continue.

"Yes, if you could please make your way over now, I think that would be for the best. Yes, the address is the Office of Madam Pomfrey, Hospital Wing, Hogwarts Castle. See you soon," he finished and then removed his head from the flames as he backed away from the hearth and slowly stood once again, turning to face the witches he'd left to their tea while using the Floo.

At the raised eyebrows on both their foreheads, he explained, "Minerva I know you're quite familiar with Andromeda. And, Poppy, I'm sure you must remember her daughter, Nymphadora, who just graduated this year. However, have you ever met Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora's mother?"

When Madam Pomfrey responded in the negative by shaking her head, Dumbledore went on, "Nymphadora's mother, Andromeda Tonks, was born Andromeda Black, cousin of Sirius Black. Andromeda, like Sirius, was disowned by the Black family due to a difference of opinion on the importance of blood purity and her decision to marry Ted Tonks, a Muggleborn," Dumbledore explained.

"Sirius and Andromeda were raised very closely – often in the same household, due to her mother's mental instability. As adults, the two were brought even closer by their common beliefs and the resulting alienation both faced from the rest of their prejudiced family," Dumbledore told the nurse.

"The House of Black formally disowned Andromeda upon her marriage to Ted. With Sirius, however, it was the opposite case. He chose to disown them – the House of Black, that is – for their decision to openly and publicly support Voldemort in the War," he disclosed, finishing his background on the recent history of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

The fire behind him roared to life once again as the green flames reached even greater heights than before.

"As Sirius' closest living – non-estranged – relative, Andromeda became Elizabeth's official guardian when her father was sentenced to Azkaban. Guardianship of Harry, on the other hand, is quite a bit more complicated and while Elizabeth was not raised by Andromeda and her family-"

"That was not a choice in which I was given much of a say, now was it Albus?" a rather small woman with jet black hair, a complexion nearly olive in tone, and a fierce glare interrupted Dumbledore as she entered the office through the fireplace.

"You know if I'd had my way, both children – but at the very least, Elizabeth – would have been raised by Ted and I," she leveled at Dumbledore, almost accusingly.

Dumbledore sighed before speaking. Andromeda Tonks may have believed the sigh was one of resigned acceptance – an acceptance that the two would never agree on this issue. The two other witches in the room, however, knew better after having learned the exact consequences of the Headmaster's past decisions regarding custody.

"Andromeda, I'm sure you remember my Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall…" he began the introductions (or re-introductions, as was this case).

"Of course, Minerva, lovely to see you again," she greeted politely, moving forward to touch a cheek to one of Professor McGonagall's in the sort of pseudo-kiss that was a standard greeting among the high society of Magical Britain.

"And this is Madam Poppy Pomfrey, Hogwarts' own mediwitch – and quite a talented healer, in her own right," Dumbledore continued, introducing the newcomer to a witch she'd never actually met before.

Though she had never before had the pleasure of meeting Madam Pomfrey, Andromeda was quite familiar with her reputation among the nation's magical medical community as a first-class healer. As the mother of a witch who could manage to trip over her own feet while lying down asleep in her own bed, Andromeda's first action (after her clumsy daughter had received her first Hogwarts letter) had been to ask a few friends at St. Mungo's what they thought of the Hogwarts school nurse. Madam Pomfrey had been highly praised by each friend.

In fact, more often than not her friends actually enthusiastically touted the Hogwarts mediwitch as likely proving to be the solution to Andromeda's problems with getting Nymphadora to allow her body to heal fully and properly, instead of just covering them up and hiding them using her abilities as a Metamorphmagus.

So no, Andromeda Tonks had never met Madam Poppy Pomfrey in the flesh. She did, however, feel as though she knew the woman and was unendingly grateful for her presence at Hogwarts over the past seven years. Only the frequent attentions of a highly gifted healer could have allowed her daughter to survive her own lack of coordination to have reached graduation relatively intact.

"Ah, yes, Madam Pomfrey. I've heard quite a lot about you from my daughter, Nymphadora. Knowing her, I'm sure she had a great many more occasions to visit you, while she was in school, than she'll ever admit to me," Mrs. Tonks teased her absent daughter, as she bent in a respectful curtsy – her manners unintentionally highlighting the pure-blood upbringing Dumbledore had mentioned to Madam Pomfrey before the elegant woman's arrival.

"Perhaps. Thankfully though, it was rarely ever – if at all – for anything beyond the odd bruise or cut here and there, always relatively minor really," the ward's matron assured, returning a curtsy in greeting.

Andromeda smiled, "You're far too modest, Madam Pomfrey. Or possibly you wish not to worry me, but I like to think I know my daughter better than most mothers know their children – and what Nymphadora lacks in grace and coordination she makes up for in curiosity, a penchant for adventure, and a talent for trouble."

"Though I'm sure she appreciates your continued discretion where I am concerned, I hold no illusions that her school years peacefully passed without injury. In fact, I'd guess that her marks could have been predicted by the number of visits to you here each term – probably about once a week, on average, correct? There is no doubt in my mind that I owe you a considerable debt of gratitude for Nymphadora's continued survival, Madam Pomfrey. So thank you for what I'm sure was indeed very hard work," Andromeda laughed, as she gave the now somewhat flustered healer yet another polite curtsy.

"Well, now that we've all been introduced, let's cut to the chase shall we, Albus?" Andromeda put forth in a no-nonsense tone. While this air of pragmatism directly contrasted the polished, formal tone of her greetings and the teasing manner she exhibited when discussing her daughter, the characteristic was quite familiar to those who knew her well.

"Indeed, have a seat, won't you, Andromeda?" he gestured to a chair he had just transfigured out of an empty waste bin behind her. She wasted no time in taking her seat.

He figured he may as well just get it over with – telling Andromeda the news of the children's conditions – so she could tell him off, and they could move forward with their business.

"Andromeda, Harry was unconscious when he arrived here at Hogwarts today," he briefly paused to await the gasp he expected but never received from Andromeda.

"According to Elizabeth, he wouldn't have made it onto the train at all had she not taken matters into her own hands. Once they arrived here at Hogwarts, he was immediately brought up to Madam Pomfrey, for medical attention. In addition to running diagnostics on both children, we also spoke to Elizabeth regarding several issues – mostly to do with Harry and his injuries – before she fell asleep. No need to worry about her, right this second, she's just napping. Harry, on the other hand…"

He stopped, temporarily, unsure of how exactly he could best inform Andromeda of the seriousness of his condition without causing her to panic. In the end, he thought it best that the professional of the group laid it out – or at least that's how he justified the act of cowardice to his own sense of pride.

"Madam Pomfrey, perhaps it's best if you were to continue and give your professional diagnoses of the children's medical conditions."

Hogwarts' ever-competent nurse did just that, explaining and detailing the precise nature of first Harry's and then Elizabeth's medical statuses, all the while including her own thoughts on how these conditions came about, how she planned to treat them, and the future prognosis she held for each child.

Andromeda asked several questions throughout the conversation and, while these were clearly directed at Madam Pomfrey and her professional knowledge, never once did Andromeda's gaze waver from Albus Dumbledore. Both parties involved in the stare-down outwardly displayed more and more emotion in their expressions as the discussion went on – Dumbledore looking ever-more ashamed and penitent, and Andromeda increasingly furious.

When Madam Pomfrey had concluded, Andromeda simply asked, "Is that all?" To which Madam Pomfrey replied in the affirmative.

Andromeda Tonks surprised all three Hogwarts staff members when she said nothing further, broke her focus away from Dumbledore, and abruptly stood from her chair to promptly exit the office into the ward's main room, lined with neatly-made but currently empty beds – not sparing even a single glance back at the shocked faces she had left in the office.

She quickly made her way to the one bed that was occupied and took up the seat at the bedside, which Elizabeth had abandoned several hours earlier. She raised a hand to run softly through one child's hair, and then the other's, before bending forward at the waist to sit with her elbows resting on her knees and wait for one to wake up.

Professor Dumbledore had been surprised at his former pupil's reaction to their bad news. Knowing Andromeda's spirited nature and the fire she exhibited when it came to those she considered family, he had expected yelling and irate lecturing. Instead, she had just left the office and joined the children in the ward. He, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey had of course followed and now stood around the occupied patient bed waiting for any changes that might come.

He spent this period thinking over every aspect of their situation – past, present, and definitely future until his thoughts were interrupted by a now-awake Elizabeth's excited proclamation.

"He's waking up! I can hear him again, he's waking up!" she practically shouted.

Though Dumbledore himself could see no outward sign that this was the case, he trusted that Elizabeth would know better than anyone if it was.

Professor Dumbledore turned his attention to the two small children entwined on the infirmary bed – one still seemingly unconscious. Harry's forehead was now pressed to Elizabeth's cheek as she used one hand to hold it there, the other arm still around his body holding it tight against her own.

The others all cast him looks of doubt as they looked on at an as-yet still unconscious Harry. All but Andromeda, that is. She did not bother to raise her questioning eyes to Dumbledore, but instead moved them back and forth between the children.

Just before Madam Pomfrey intended to point out the boy's unchanged state aloud, all were surprised by a soft noise from the bed.

"Mhmm…" Harry moaned, more confused and disoriented than anything else, "Iz?"

She said nothing in response. At least, not that the rest of them could hear.

It's me, Harry. I'm right here. You okay?

Izzy, where am I? What happened? Why does everything hurt so much?

We're at Hogwarts, Harry, remember? The train ride and then that little boat? You were pretty out-of-it. Your uncle hurt you pretty bad last night, worse than we thought. And I know it hurts but I think some of the aches are actually because you're getting better.

She could feel his confusion and frustration, unsuccessfully trying to remember their journey from King's Cross – which just so happened to be the last point from which he had any clear memories.

So we made it then? We're actually at Hogwarts? Disbelief was clear in his mental 'tone'.

We made it, Harry. We actually made it, we're finally here. But you'll have to open your eyes to see for yourself.

Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, half-blinking repeatedly in an effort to avoid the pain of the bright light as his eyes adjusted to it.

After the boy's first sounds and Elizabeth's failure to respond verbally to Harry's call, Dumbledore was quite certain the two were communicating silently with one another. So the Headmaster took advantage of this period of silence to get the ball rolling on other things.

"Fawkes," he called his familiar and was joined by the majestic phoenix only seconds later.

"Hello, old friend, it's been quite the day. Would you mind terribly fetching the Sorting Hat for me? I assume the Ceremony has concluded and it is no longer in use in the Great Hall. Great thanks, my friend," he addressed the phoenix before it returned a single steady note of reply and disappeared in a flash of flames.

He turned away from where his familiar had just vanished into thin air and back to the children on the bed, where he found that young Harry had begun to open his eyes and was blinking them rapidly in adjustment.

"Ah, Mister Potter, we're so glad to have you join us," the Headmaster welcomed.

"Thaaa-," Harry tried to speak but his voice left his mouth as more of a croak. He held a hand to his dry throat as he turned his eyes pleadingly towards Elizabeth.

"He needs water," she stated bluntly. Then she rolled her eyes at Harry and huffed before she corrected, "He would like to ask if he could please have a little bit of water."

Madam Pomfrey jumped a bit as the meaning of the words clicked in her head and she set off to fulfill the request, realizing that this was something she would normally have already thought to do.

Harry's annoyed glare at Elizabeth had Minerva McGonagall once again struggling to maintain her composure. What was it with these two small, black-haired children that had her so off-balance? As amusing as the two boys had been, even Harry and Elizabeth's fathers – both of whom she'd been quite fond of – had never managed to 'throw her off her game' (as they had liked to refer to their goal when trying to break her stern composure) in such a manner and certainly not without even trying!

For some reason, the interactions between the two children in front of her and even the sassy attitude Elizabeth had displayed before Harry woke had her constantly battling a case of the giggles. She had no idea why the boy and girl amused her so – certainly they were not the funniest students she had ever had. So what was it?

As she pondered this, Poppy Pomfrey had returned bearing a glass of water with a straw, which she held near Harry's mouth as Elizabeth actually placed the straw between his dry lips.

After gulping down nearly the entire glass, Harry let the straw fall from between his lips as his now-rehydrated tongue darted out to moisten them once again.

He thanked Madam Pomfrey with a nod of his head as he began clearing his throat in preparation to retry his hand at speaking with his voice.

He swallowed one more time before beginning anew, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Mister Potter," the mediwitch politely replied.

No one else spoke. Since even Dumbledore seemed content to merely observe for the moment, Madam Pomfrey took the lead to satisfy her medical concerns.

"Mister Potter, we've been speaking to Elizabeth while you were unconscious and she tells us that your present injuries were inflicted by one Vernon Dursley and that this is not the first instance in which he has injured you in such a manner. Is this correct, Mister Potter?"

Harry had turned to Elizabeth in shock when the nurse had mentioned his uncle by name.

You told them!? … How could you, Izzy? You know what'll happen if he finds out I told someone!

Izzy felt Harry roll through a spectrum of emotions – first his surprise at hearing Vernon's name spoken by the mouth of a stranger, then his outrage that Izzy had revealed such information without consulting him – which he considered a betrayal of sorts, and finally his fear of the repercussions he would face when or if his uncle ever found out that Harry had (however indirectly) told on him.

His fear was then joined by anger. Izzy knew what Uncle Vernon would do and yet she had told anyway – and told a bunch of strangers, no less!

Harry had only been allowed to fume for a matter of seconds before his anger was overtaken by Izzy's own, as she removed both of her hands from his body and crossed her arms over her chest as she ranted.

How could I? How could I!? … How could you even ask me something like that? Of course I know what your Uncle Vernon will do if he ever finds out! How could I not? And that's exactly why I did it!

Her rage had actually caught Harry off-guard, keeping him silent as she mentally chewed him out. He had expected her to be remorseful for opening her mouth to strangers on a topic that she had no right to share without his permission. Instead, he found her thoroughly pissed-off – at himself, no less.

Our entire lives I've had to watch as he beat you for no reason. Every time I've watched as he hurt you and hated myself for not being able to do anything.

Maybe I wouldn't have said anything, at least not today, if it hadn't been so bad last night. Maybe I would have just been happy enough to have you safe, away from that monster, and here with me for now. But that's not what effing happened! Last night he went too damn far, so I can't – no, I won't just sit back and watch him get away with it anymore! Not if I can help it!

Her fury had her so worked up she was now panting slightly. At this point the 'tone' of both her thoughts and her feelings softened drastically and her voice sounded quiet, almost teary, in his head. The shift in her attitude was enough to prompt Harry (whose body was now responding a bit better to his commands than before) to turn on his side facing her and wedge the arm previously trapped between their bodies underneath her slightly-smaller frame, wrapping both arms around her shoulders and pulling her body against his. She had uncrossed her arms and now they lay against his chest, folded in half at the elbows and sandwiched between their bodies, as she gripped the collar of the hospital gown with her tiny fists and buried her face in the nook bounded by Harry's chin and collarbone on two sides, his neck and the pillow beneath his head on the opposite two.

Harry, the nurse said that you would have died if we'd gotten here even an hour later than we did. You almost died, Harry. I've never been so scared-out-of-my-mind in my entire freaking life, you idiot.

He could feel hot, wet tears dripping onto and easily soaking through the thin material of the hospital gown that covered his shoulder.

And now he felt like a world-class jerk for yelling at her.

'S okay, Iz. I'm right here and I promise not to go anywhere anytime soon. Okay?

She just nodded her head against his shoulder as she tried to force an end to the sounds of her sobs and staunch the flow of tears.

Andromeda observed the children as they apparently carried on a full conversation between themselves without ever speaking a word. She had never seen anything like it.

Just then, Harry opened his eyes again and found the faces of four still unknown adults looking back at him.

The stout, matronly witch who had brought him the water began to re-cast his diagnostics and apparently approved of what she found.

"Now that's looking much better. Still be here for days yet, recovering, but totally out of the woods now," she announced to the room.

The dark-featured woman seated right up next to the bed spoke next, "So Dursley? That's who did this?"

There was no point lying to try and back-track now, they already knew.

"Yes, ma'am," he shyly answered.

"Well then, that's the end of that, now isn't it?" she seemed to speak to no one in particular, but had nonetheless effectively ended that entire line of conversation for now with a harsh glare up at the ancient looking wizard behind the half-moon spectacles.

No one was quite sure where to take the conversation next. The silence between them all was rapidly becoming awkward and uncomfortable. Fortunately for the entire group, Fawkes chose that very moment to return from the quest on which Dumbledore had dispatched him. Clutching the tattered school Sorting Hat in his beak, Fawkes had brought them a relatively straightforward option to pass the time before they must inevitably turn the discussion to more serious matters.

"Ah! Thank you, good friend. I greatly appreciate your help. I suppose I shall not return to the office for quite some time still, but I owe you a treat when I do so remind me," Dumbledore assured his familiar, excusing him to return to his warm, comfortable perch, elsewhere in the castle.

Once the magnificent magical bird had gone once more in a flash of flames Dumbledore turned to the two unsorted children, delicately holding the school's sentient Sorting Hat in both hands.

"Mister Potter, Miss Black, this is the Hogwarts Sorting Hat. The Sorting Hat examines the hearts and minds of incoming first year students to place them in the House that best suits their individual personality and values. Unfortunately, you two missed its annual song but that should have no bearing on the Hat's placement of either of you," Dumbledore explained.

"Here, Miss Black. Why don't you put him on first, as Black comes before Potter alphabetically," he said as he passed the worn, old Hat to Elizabeth on the bed.

Somewhat anxiously, Elizabeth placed the Sorting Hat over her head, where its excessive width caused the brim to fall far enough down her face as to cover her eyes. Everyone watched and waited for several minutes until Elizabeth removed the Hat, without it having declared her House assignment.

She passed the tattered Hat over to Harry as she answered the confused looks on everyone else's faces by explaining, "The Hat told me to give him to Harry and have Harry put him on before he can make any decisions."

The looks of confusion were replaced by ones of shock, informing Izzy that her answer had not been as clear an explanation as she might have thought. She couldn't have known, but the Hat had never done something like this before.

Following her instructions, Harry put the Hat on next and, after only thirty seconds to a minute of deliberation, exclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!" Followed closely by another, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry removed the sentient accessory and passed the item back to the Headmaster.

Out of curiosity, Dumbledore donned the unique hat, who was in fact more of an old friend than just a hat, hoping for a quick explanation of the odd behaviour.

Ah, Headmaster! A delight, as always. Yes, I figured you would feel that an explanation was required.

I'd like to preface with the fact that I do not, in fact, owe you – or anyone else – explanations for any of my placements, nor the manner in which I determine them.

However, out of my rather great respect for you, your deep concern for the well-beings of both Miss Black and Mister Potter, and the possible implications of what I've learned today, I will tell you that my reason for not sorting Miss Black until after I had examined Mister Potter as well was that I felt the two must be sorted together.

I have to say, Albus, I've never seen two individuals so thoroughly and inexorably connected. Not even any of the hundreds of sets of twins I've sorted over the years have been linked in such a manner.

Yes, yes, it's just as you thought. Their minds and souls, while clearly defined and totally distinct from one another, are somehow fully integrated as well.

They live in a state of constant connection – always connected, even when they are unaware of such. It seems that the years of separation, during which both children were completely socially isolated, have led them to both the ability to somewhat control aspects of the connection as well as an irreversible dependence upon other aspects of it.

While their minds and souls are connected but separate, they share a single magical reservoir. Their magical cores are so tightly bound to each other at the moment – in an effort to heal Harry's body – that it's almost as though they were one, but when it comes to their reservoir they truly have only one between the two of them.

Yes, that's exactly what you saw earlier. His body was drawing magic directly from her core to heal itself, by way of their shared reservoir.

It seems they require direct physical contact in order to draw from one another's cores. However, their shared magical reservoir should always be available to both no matter where they are.

I believe the reservoir has been combined since both survived the very curse that first connected them as infants. Since then, it has developed in a never-ending cyclical – not to mention somewhat exponential – nature.

Separation required their magical cores to strengthen in order to be able to access and utilize magic from the shared reservoir – which was stretched quite thin by the distance between them. The growth of their cores, in turn, caused an increase in the amount of magic available within the reservoir.

As they aged and experienced situations that required ever-more magic to be drawn from the reservoir, it would again become stretched thin across the distance of their separation and the cycle would begin again.

I should warn you, Albus…now that they have been physically reunited, not only have their cores – which are several times larger than that of the average witch or wizard – drawn tightly together, but their magical reservoir is no longer stretched across any sort of distance.

All in all, what I'm trying to say is that both have far more power than other children, which may become problematic and possibly even dangerous to the other pupils they share classes with. Until they can be taught to properly sense the amount of power they are drawing upon while casting spells, be very careful of allowing them to participate in wand-heavy subjects.

There may also be other unanticipated consequences of their reunion, so pay close attention and beware.

Good luck, Headmaster!

And finally, the Hat had fallen silent in Dumbledore's head.

After both Harry and Elizabeth had apparently been sorted into Gryffindor – although she wasn't positive that this was, in fact, the case due to the strange manner in which the Sorting Hat had done it – Dumbledore put on the Hat while Andromeda observed another silent conversation between the two children on the bed. No one had filled her in on the earlier conversation that had been had with Elizabeth; she could just tell that this was indeed what was happening in front of her by their slightly glazed eyes and the body language they displayed – just as if they had been having a conversation out loud – despite never opening their mouths.

Harry's eyes shifted from one adult to another, moving to Elizabeth's own in between each shift. They finally settled upon Andromeda and she got the distinct impression that Harry was becoming rather frustrated with Elizabeth, who could not see the woman as she faced the other way. Silence once again filled the Hospital Wing and Harry seemed to be studying her carefully.

Roughly a minute after Dumbledore had first disappeared under the Hat, Andromeda broke the silence of the ward by interrupting the children's conversation.

"Well, since it seems that he's too busy to properly introduce me… Hello, Harry, Elizabeth," she announced, nodding to each of them as she spoke their names.

"My name is Andromeda Tonks, but that's my married name. My maiden name was Andromeda Black. I am your father's closest cousin, Elizabeth."

"Cousin?" Elizabeth asked as she turned over in the bed to face Andromeda, so that Harry was essentially spooning her.

"But they only send kids that don't have any family to the orphanage, "the girl mused. "Oh, unless their relatives don't want them…" she concluded with a mix of embarrassment and pain.

Seeing hurt cross the face of the tiny eleven year old, as she came to the conclusion that Andromeda had been given the option of taking her in but had not wanted her, broke the older woman's heart. Elizabeth's eyes had clouded with tears, but she was clearly fighting to keep any from falling as her face took on a defiant air in the struggle. Harry's arms tightened their hold on the girl's slightly smaller body, which lay alongside his own.

Andromeda quickly moved from the bedside chair to sit on the edge of the bed next to Elizabeth, leaning forward to place her left hand on Elizabeth's cheek where her jaw met her ear and running her right hand through the strands of the girl's silky, straight jet black locks – not unlike Andromeda's own.

"Oh sweetheart, please don't ever think that I didn't want you. I did. Very much so," Andromeda consoled.

"In fact, I begged that I be allowed to raise both of you. Yes, you too, Harry," she assured the boy, after noticing his shock.

"I wanted you both, but they wouldn't let me have you. Safety reasons – at least that's what I was told," she said with a glare in Dumbledore's direction that might have killed the old Headmaster had his eyes not still been protected within the Hat at that moment.

Almost as though he had felt the death-stare from Andromeda, Dumbledore emerged from underneath the Sorting Hat only seconds later, staring at both children with wonder and excitement.

His enthusiasm was instantly quashed by Andromeda's harsh tone as she leveled him with a single glare and demanded, "Get talking, Professor. My patience has worn thin."

"Huhuhm," he nervously cleared his throat.

She continued on in a commanding tone, "You're going to start at the beginning, tell the entire story – and anything else you might know. You will leave out no details – even if you are aware that some of us already know them – so that we all get the complete picture. And then you will answer any and all questions that we may have. Have I made myself clear?"

Professor Dumbledore sighed in resignation. "Yes, yes, you're right, Andromeda. You all deserve to know the truth. But where to begin…"

After several moments of silence he appeared to have chosen what he believed to be an appropriate starting point.

"Ah, yes. Harry, has Elizabeth shared with you the information I gave her earlier? That your fathers-," he was cut off.

"Were best friends, yeah," the boy quietly interrupted. He immediately looked as though he regretted having done so, lowering his gaze and appearing to shrink in on himself, but any of his fears were alleviated when the old Headmaster continued on as though nothing had happened.

"Yes, practically inseparable. Well then. When your parents went into hiding in the late summer of 1981, they used the Fidelius Charm to do so. Under the Fidelius Charm, the protected information – in this case the location of the house in which you and your parents were hiding out – cannot be known to anyone who does not learn it directly from the Secret Keeper. Even those who have already been told the secret are unable to pass the information along by any means they might attempt. The Secret Keeper is the only one who can reveal the information. The Potter's made it known that their Secret Keeper was Sirius Black – your father, Elizabeth," the old wizard revealed.

Both Elizabeth and Harry's faces showed touches of surprise but otherwise remained mostly clear, leading him to believe that they had decided to reserve judgment for the moment. So he continued.

"At the time of your births, Magical Britain was deeply entrenched in war with a dark wizard, calling himself Lord Voldemort, and his supporters, the Death Eaters, who believed that maintaining the purity of magical bloodlines was of the utmost importance and that only those born into traditional magical families should be allowed to practice magic. Not all of these traditional magical families, known as purebloods, believed in Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters' ideas of blood purity though. Some pureblood families – like the Potters and your mother's family, Elizabeth, the Moody family – were staunch supporters of the Light and believed in equality regardless of ancestry or blood."

"Harry, your mother – as you may have guessed by your aunt's extreme aversion to all things magical – was Muggleborn. During the War, Muggles and Muggleborns faced the greatest peril from Lord Voldemort and his forces than any other group in our society, simply because they had not been born to witches and wizards. 'Blood-traitors', or those purebloods who chose to defend Muggles and Muggleborns, were not far behind – the Potters and Moodys were considered 'blood-traitors'."

Dumbledore paused to take several very deep breaths and prepare himself. The next part would be the hardest.

"Elizabeth, your father's family – the Blacks, of which Andromeda here was also once a member, was a Dark bloodline. Most of the family's members supported Lord Voldemort and devotedly upheld the ideals of blood purity. Andromeda was officially disowned by the House of Black for her marriage to a Muggleborn wizard, Ted Tonks. Your father, Sirius, publicly denounced his membership and declared himself a defender of the Light but was never disinherited from the family, after the death of his brother left him the only Black within the direct male line. Is all of this making sense so far?" he asked.

Both nodded in affirmation, but the slightly confused look to their faces made him doubt that they really did understand all the implications the various bloodlines and allegiances held. He decided to continue, regardless. He could always return to this information later, if need be.

So far, he had really only been addressing the two children still lying in the bed before him. The three witches present had all been alive – if not active participants – during the War against Voldemort, so they were more than familiar with the background facts. Moving on he was sure to be questioned deeply, as much of the upcoming information would be new to the three witches, as well as the children. He sighed heavily before beginning…

"On the evening of October 31st, 1981, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, and Sarah Moody Black, were murdered by Lord Voldemort himself in the Potter home, which had been hidden for months under the Fidelius Charm on the outskirts of the village of Godric's Hollow. The only way Voldemort could have possibly discovered the Potters' location is if he had been directly told by the Secret Keeper himself, Sirius Black."

He paused for nearly half a minute, to allow the new information to be fully absorbed. While everyone knew that Sarah Black had been killed the same night her good friends the Potters were, Dumbledore had managed to keep secret the fact that all three deaths had in fact occurred in a single attack on the Potter home by the Dark Lord himself.

"After killing James, Lily, and Sarah, Lord Voldemort approached the crib, in which two babies laid. When he lifted his wand again, he cast an Avada Kedavra killing curse directed at the crib. For reasons unknown, instead of killing one or both of you with the curse, he was struck by his own curse as it rebounded back at him. You two are the only known survivors of the Avada Kedavra curse," he informed the children.

All three witches simultaneously gasped in dramatic fashion at this new information, from their various positions around the infirmary bed.

He then cast Tergeo to remove the Muggle make-up from Elizabeth's face, before continuing, "And that's what left you both with your very unique scars."

Andromeda had once again leaned forward, this time in a flash, and brushed Elizabeth's fringe away from her forehead to reveal the very distinct lightning-bolt-shaped curse scar that perfectly matched the one located in exactly the same spot on Harry's forehead.

The older woman's mouth fell open but no sound came out. She stared at the children like this for several seconds before she realized her mouth was hanging wide-open in an unflattering manner and moved a hand – the one that was not otherwise occupied with Elizabeth's hair – to cover it.

Andromeda managed to remove her gaze from Elizabeth's scar just long enough to cast it upon Dumbledore as she hesitantly clarified, "Both of them? They were both hit with a killing curse from You-Know-Who?"

Dumbledore solemnly nodded in confirmation. No one spoke for minutes following the big revelation. The witches needed time to process, while the children didn't know what to ask.

"No," Andromeda's firm voice finally broke the silence. "No, I don't believe it. I don't believe any of it!"

Dumbledore, having not expected that they wouldn't believe him, concernedly turned to the black-haired witch and tried to convince her, "I assure you, Andromeda, all that I have recounted thus far is the truth. I said that I would give you all the truth today and I intend to keep my word."

"I believe you," she answered. "That's not what I meant when I said I didn't believe it."

She turned her head to gaze out the window behind the hospital bed's headboard and sighed.

"What I don't believe is that Sirius would have done such a thing. Sirius loved James, Lily, and Harry – I never believed that he would have surrendered them to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But now…now I know he didn't do it. He would never have endangered Sarah and Elizabeth. They were literally his whole world. He would have died before allowing anything to happen to the two of them…" she trailed off.

Her head snapped back to the scene in front of her, her gaze locking with the Headmaster's.

In a tone brooking no doubt, she reiterated, "He didn't do what they say, Albus. I'm positive. I know it with every fibre of my being. He didn't do this."

Without waiting for his response, she spoke again, this time seemingly more to the occupants of the room in general rather than Dumbledore alone.

Anger, conviction, and determination were clear for all to hear in her words,"We have to do something. Sirius Black is an innocent man."

Author's Note: That ending probably gives you a pretty good idea of where this fic is headed in the very near future.

I think this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written to date…yay, for long chapters!

Let me know what you think please! REVIEW!