AN: Whoa, okay, so it's been like...six years since I updated this story?! I have NO IDEA where the time went and for that I am so so SO so so sorry! I beg your forgiveness a thousand times over. Between writing my senior thesis, actually passing my thesis, then graduation, grad school, and moving off into the Real World like an Actual Grownup, things completely took over. I can't promise that updates will come fast and furious since my job (which is uhMAZing by the way) is really fast-paced and coronavirus has turned everything on its head, but I will try my absolute best to return to writing and updating at a more regular schedule.

As always, thank you so much to everyone who favorited, followed, left reviews, and kept coming back to this story and never gave up on it. I can never thank you all enough. I have revised this chapter slightly from its original version for sense and clarity, but otherwise it largely remains the same.

Read and review! Your feedback is the reason I came back to writing!

All my love,

Laerwen

"Albus, where have you been?" Professor McGonagall was waiting for him when he entered his office by the fireplace. The gargoyle who kept watch on the door tried to tell her that the Headmaster wasn't in, but she'd gone inside anyway, determined to wait him out.

The version of Albus Dumbledore who stood brushing soot off his robes was one she hadn't seen very often. He was off kilter, stewing, and completely indignant if you knew what signs to look for. There was no twinkle in his eyes, and his wand was held so rigidly in his hand that she got the impression he'd recently used it.

"I've been to Surrey, Minerva, and I don't want to talk about it," he said dismissively.

"You didn't go and talk to Harry's relatives..."

"I did, and I don't wish to discuss it."

"But why would you do something like that?'

"I wanted to inform them that they'd most likely be getting a summons from the Ministry-"

"And to prove to yourself you were right about placing the boy with them in the first place?" McGonagall gave him a far too superior gloat for his taste.

"Well, you didn't honestly expect me to take the opinion of Lucius Malfoy as sufficient evidence to question their character, did you? I had to see for myself what kind of people they are."

"And?"

"And I don't want to talk about it!" He huffed into a seat behind his desk. "Dursley... he ... he... he shot a hole in my hat!" Dumbledore whipped his hat off and poked a finger through a large, and singed, hole in the fabric.

"But I thought the Dursleys were Muggles? Surely he didn't have a working wand!' "He had a gun, Minerva. A rifle, I believe, it's called, and he shot a hole in my hat... I think he might have been aiming at my head. I was so surprised, I barely had time to raise a shield to protect myself."

"Good gracious! You weren't hurt, were you?"

Dumbledore gave her sour look as though he'd swallowed pickle juice. "The day I'm that feeble, the portrait of my younger self can take over as Headmaster."

"Don't be ridiculous," McGonagall said, and he brightened a bit, his pride soothed, until - "I'd never allow a portrait to steal my job. You can have the office back when I'm dead."

"Your concern is truly awe inspiring."

"Don't pout, Albus. It makes you look like a fuzzy prune." She patted his shoulder. "At least you've settled the matter of whether or not they can take Harry. It's out of the question."

Dumbledore started to squirm in his seat.

"You aren't honestly still considering them as suitable guardians." Minerva raised a thin black brow in disapproval and stared at him coldly over the glittering lenses of her square spectacles.

"No. No, I'm not, but I think...er... I think I may have knobbed things up on that front."

"Albus! Language! What if one of the students heard you?"

"Sorry Minerva," he patted her hand. "But I'm a bit out of sorts."

"I'd imagine so. Getting shot at sounds dreadful. I didn't think they were suitable parents, but I never imagined the man would be capable of attempted murder."

"It wasn't the father. It was that whale of a juvenile delinquent they call Diddle, or Puddles... Dudley, that's it! 'Home from school' they said, as though that's not a nice way of saying "suspended". He pulled the rifle out of the closet, thought he'd bring it to his father when things got heated, and the lummox dropped it."

"How heated?" she asked, disapprovingly. "You didn't lose your temper did you? Albus... did you turn that man into a newt? So help me..."

"Nothing like that, my dear, but they weren't exactly overjoyed to see someone from our world step into theirs. It seems that the rifts between Lily and her sister have only gotten worse since Lily died, and the idea of caring for Harry is of the utmost distaste for them."

"Then I don't see a problem with anything but their manners. Surely they won't contest for guardianship."

Dumbledore started to squirm again.

"Stop that Albus. He didn't hit you in the backside, too? Should I get Poppy?"

"Poppy's expertise would be of little use in this case, Minerva, and I dare say you might feel obliged to transfigure me into something newt-like by the time we're done.

"What did you do?"

"I may have, unfortunately, in the course of the discussion of Harry's care, and certainly before the shooting incident... that is to say, I let it slip, that..."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! What? Did? You? Do?"

"I only meant to impress upon them the need for a legal guardian for Harry. Someone to look after his interests and serve as a trustee for-"

"You told them about the Potter fortune, didn't you?" Minerva snapped.

"Nothing specific. I just said that since Harry's godfather was unable to care for him, as stipulated by the Potters' wills, that they were the next in line to handle their estate for Harry."

"Have you gone daft, man? Did that hole let your mind out the top of your head?!"

"Um... lemon drop?"

The next words out of Minerva McGonagall's mouth may not have (technically) been Unforgivable, but they were, without a doubt, loud, memorable, and anatomically impossible.

Harry'd never thought he'd tire of talking about Quidditch, but that was before he'd been forced to share a room with Ron Weasley. And a table with the rest of them. Whatever initial doubts the red headed clan had about trusting someone raised by a Malfoy, they disappeared the instant Harry was placed on the House team.

Ron had talked non-stop since dinner that night, then on into the Common Room, and finally their dormitory. He was talking again when Harry woke up for breakfast, and for one terrifying moment, it looked like he might even follow him into the bathroom - he stood outside and continued his lecture on the History of Quidditch, not leaving out that all of his brothers had played the game and that he hoped to try out himself the next year.

At breakfast, Harry hoped to have some peace and quiet, but he'd forgotten that Ron could eat and talk at the same time.

"Oo hafs t'be" Swallow. "The youngest Seeker-" Shovel food. "N'hudred years!"

"I guess so," Harry shrugged. "But only by a few weeks. Draco's not much older than me."

"Blimey. Two firsties." Shovel food. "On'da team 'fore we'c'n even try out!"

"Oh, would you please stop that?" Hermione shrieked as his exclamation sent flecks of porridge onto her sleeves. "You keep spraying across the table like that and it's going to get in the food the rest of us are trying to eat!"

Everyone in the immediate area took a moment to examine their possibly contaminated charger plates and tureens before a trio of agitated kitchen elves popped onto the table, took a peek, and glowered at Ron. Two popped out with the ruined food, while the third marched over and took Weasley's utensils and plate.

"Until you is learning to eat, you can be eating fruit or you can be eating on the floor!"

She popped out as well and fresh platters of hot food appeared for the other students. A shriveled orange and half a walnut appeared in front of Ron.

"I thought elves were supposed to be helpful!" he shouted. The orange and the walnut disappeared, replaced by a tub of peeled potato skins. "Oi! You can't do that! They can't do that, can they?"

"I think they just did," Hermione said and made a show of adding fresh blueberries to her porridge and taking a huge bite. "Mmmmm."

"Come on, you wouldn't let me starve, would you?"

Hermione started to push her bowl across the table, and Ron smiled, reaching for it. Just before he got his hands on it, she called out: "That was wonderful, thanks. I'm through!" The bowl popped out of sight as the table cleared.

"Just my luck getting stuck in Gryffindor the same year as a couple of wannabe snakes," Ron groused.

Yes he did want to be a snake, Harry thought. He glanced over at the Slytherin table where Draco was still being congratulated by the Quidditch team and no one was slobbering their breakfast all over him. Draco wasn't having to sit in the middle of the Weasley defensive line. Draco got to pick his own seat. Draco never got headaches that made him so sick all he could do was nibble dry toast. Harry looked up at the teachers' table, and saw Snape trying to figure out what was wrong with him, but he didn't feel like talking to Snape.

That weird teacher with the freaky turban noticed him next, and Harry put his head down again to avoid their stares. He'd been looking forward to coming to Hogwarts for years, and now that he was there, the stupid school wouldn't stop spinning long enough for him to enjoy it!

It was official. Their fall from grace was complete. Lucius Malfoy had Weasleys in his house, and they were there by invitation. They were also impressively punctual. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived at the front door and knocked just as the clock struck the arranged time for their meeting.

"Arthur, Molly," Lucius said as Dobby let them in. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Neither was I," Molly said, shortly. "Arthur insisted it would benefit Lily and James' son, so for that reason, I agreed."

Lucius nodded. "Dobby, take Mrs. Weasley to Cissy's sitting room," he said.

The eager elf hurried off to do as he was told and Mrs. Weasley followed reluctantly.

"Do you think it would help if I assured her we had no intention of poisoning either of you?"

"Probably not," Arthur said as he followed Lucius to his office. He expected Lucius to take a seat behind his desk, which would put the man in a seat of power the way the room was arranged, but instead he sat in one of the two chairs near the bookcase and offered Arthur the other.

"I assume you can guess why I asked you here."

"I have a guess," Arthur said. "But I'm not sure why you think I could help you. Family arrangements aren't in my department."

"But Muggle relations are. Since Harry's known next-of-kin are Muggles, I assumed you would be involved, or that you could at least tell me if their behavior is normal for that world."

"An interesting point. I may have to bring it up when I return to the Ministry. Most of the Officials there are well meaning, but you're right about them not knowing how to act among Muggles. They tend to walk on eggshells, as though they'll break the poor dears by standing too close."

"Eggshells?" Lucius asked, confused.

"A Muggle saying," Arthur clarified. "I get myself in the habit of using them so it's easier to converse if need be. They have some of the strangest colloquialisms you've ever heard. One of my office staff overheard one saying he had a frog in his throat and filed a three page incident report, assuming someone had used magic on the man, before we discovered it's how Muggles say they're hoarse."

"How odd."

"And that's one of the mild ones. I've been trying to convince the school they need to add a term of "Slang", as they call, to the Muggle studies course, but they don't see the need. It's sad, really." Arthur shook his head, lost for a moment in the injustice of it all.

"Are you familiar at all with these particular Muggles and the region they come from?" Lucius asked, bringing him snapping back to the present.

"Surrey's not far from London, so there's not much difference in behaviors."

"So it's not socially acceptable or a Muggle custom to lock a baby in a boot cupboard full of dust and spiders?"

"I should say not!" Arthur exclaimed indignantly.

Lucius nodded again. It was a small comfort to know that at least most Muggles didn't go around shoving their offspring in closets. He'd wondered how they maintained the population with the inevitable mortality rate such actions would cause.

"Most Muggle families dote on their children, especially the infants. Are you saying Harry's relatives behaved that way?"

"Unfortunately," Lucius drawled.

There was an exceptionally loud shriek of "THEY DID WHAT?" from the direction of Narcissa's sitting room that told them she was at the same place in the story as Lucius had been.

"Sounds like Molly just got the news," Arthur cringed.

For a moment, Lucius felt sorry for Dumbledore if half of what Severus said was true, but the feeling didn't last long. "I have documentation from St. Mungo's if you'd like to take it to the Ministry," he said. "Harry's condition was rather dire when we received him. And, we didn't take him by force. Harry's aunt practically threw him out the front door."

"There will still be an inquiry," Arthur warned. "And I can't promise, even if his Muggle relations aren't granted guardianship, that he'll be returned to you. I understand you were afraid you'd lose Harry, but my colleagues aren't likely to excuse the secrecy, and, forgive me for this, the deception."

"What does an inquiry consist of?"

"Normally, a Ministry official will interview the child and the legal guardian, have the stories verified, and go from there. Harry's old enough to speak for himself, though I'm not sure how much weight his opinions will carry as he's well below the age of majority."

Lucius nodded again. The door to the office slammed open and a furious Molly Weasley glared at her husband.

"We are leaving. Now," she snapped.

"Did something happen?" Lucius asked.

Over her shoulder Narcissa looked surprisingly pleased about something, and he had a sinking feeling that she may have insulted Molly.

"Oh, you can bet something happened," Molly seethed. "And more's about to! Arthur, let's go! We are going to Hogwarts, and I am going to give that old meddler a piece of my mind!" She slammed the door shut again and both men jumped.

"I guess I'm leaving," Arthur said, almost apologetically.

"And I thought Cissy had a temper..." Lucius mused.

"It's always worse with redheads." He stood and held out his hand to shake Lucius'.

Lucius hesitated a moment out of habit, but shook the man's hand. "Please inform me of the time and date for the inquiry as soon as possible," he said as an unfamiliar owl swooped in and delivered a letter. It didn't even wait for him to open it before flying off again.

"I'll contact you as soon I find out... something wrong, Lucius?" Arthur asked.

Unbeknownst to the man himself, Lucius Malfoy's face had paled beyond a respectably Pureblood tone and his legs had given a momentary indication of buckling, but ever the aristocrat, he covered both signs of weakness as soon as he was made aware of them.

"A man with wide holdings always has some trouble or other, Arthur," he said. He knew how it sounded, like another dig at the Weasleys' lack of fortune, but for once it was unintentional. And Arthur wasn't the sort of person to mention the slip, regardless of its intent. "I knew once word got out about Harry some of my ventures would be affected. I was simply ... surprised... by the signature on this one. The man in question rarely takes up his own quill these days. Apparently I outrage him beyond the weakness of his condition."

"To lay such burdens at a child's feet, or on his head," Arthur said disdainfully. "It's atrocious."

"Atrocity is one of his particular talents. I hope you'll forgive my speaking ill of someone not here to defend himself, but I'd hoped the old fellow was long since dead. I guess he held off the reaper."

"If the letter's at all threatening, I could suggest an official inquiry. Extortion is still illegal, even if the victim is you. And if there's a physical threat against the boy..."

"Nothing so material," Malfoy said with a weak smile. "He prefers to damn me with his disappointment."

"Ah. Family." Arthur put his hat on and prepared to leave. "Even the Ministry has no jurisdiction over tiresome relations, I'm afraid."

"ARTHUR!" Mrs. Weasley's voice blasted through the room again. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "If we did, I'd have Molly's great-aunt Kit in exile. The old bat tried to jinx me during our wedding toast." He laughed; Lucius tried. Arthur collected his wife from the foyer, and once they were outside, the two Disapparated.

Narcissa waited for Lucius to come out of his office, but he stayed rooted to the same spot, staring at the letter.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The inevitable," he said, and handed it over. There was only one line, consisting of four words and written in a shaky hand as though the person who wrote it had been extremely nervous or infirm: YOU DISAPPOINT ME, LUCIUS. The only signature was a miniature of the Dark Mark on his own arm.

Molly Weasley made good on her threat to fill Dumbledore in on her opinions of his actions where Harry was concerned, which led to the gargoyle being told not to let her into the Headmaster's office unescorted in the future. And Arthur Weasley made good on his promise to keep Lucius apprised of the situation at the Ministry.

To everyone's dismay, the mention of the Potters' estate had exactly the effect McGonagall had feared and the Dursleys (mainly Vernon) were insisting they be given control of Harry at once, claiming they were his relatives after all, and it wasn't in their nature to turn their backs on family. A date was set for the inquiry, which would be carried out in Surrey, as the Dursleys absolutely refused to set foot in any sort of magical office. All involved realized that wasn't something that bode well for future interaction, but it couldn't be helped.

So, at the specified time, one Ministry official, one Auror, the Malfoys (along with Snape, since he was the only one personally familiar with both sides), and Harry were to Floo from Hogwarts to speak to the Dursleys. Dumbledore was to come as well, but warned by both McGonagall and Molly Weasley to keep his twinkly opinions to himself.

They kept the meeting from Harry as long as possible, not wanting to stress the boy too badly, and on the morning of the inquiry, he was collected by Snape from Flitwick's class.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"To meet your Muggle relatives," Snape said, trying not to sound too disgusted.

"Why?" Harry was panting slightly as he trotted to keep up with the Potions Master's long strides.

"Because the Ministry wants to see if they're suitable guardians for you."

"But I already have suitable guardians. Mum and Father are suitable."

"Yes, but the Ministry may not agree. They may think that you'd be better off with blood relatives."

"But, I don't want to leave..."

"I know, Harry," Snape said as he led the boy to his office. "But it's not up to us. We'll be going in a few moments, but before we do, someone wanted a word with you."

He opened the door and Lucius Malfoy stood from the chair he'd been waiting in.

"Father!" Harry ran to Lucius and buried his face against his side. "Uncle Severus says I can't live with you and Mum anymore. They want to make me live with Muggles. I don't want to live with Muggles. I want you and Mum and Draco and Dobby, and even Button... what are you wearing?" Harry stepped back when he realized that his father wasn't wearing his usual robes, but a Muggle suit and tie.

"A requirement for the day," Lucius said. "Your relatives aren't used to magic or people in robes. We're dressing to make them comfortable."

As he spoke, Snape removed his teaching robes and transfigured his clothes into a suit, still black, but not his usual style, and Lucius left Harry in a T-shirt and jeans with trainers for shoes, only making the concession of putting a Gryffindor crest on the shirt to give Harry something familiar as an anchor.

"I don't want to make them comfortable. I bet they're still awful!"

Lucius didn't want to argue the point, because from what Snape had told him of Petunia Dursley as a young girl, it seemed that her treatment of Harry as an infant wasn't a one time thing.

"Dry your tears," Lucius said. "We're not going to cry in front of the Ministry officials or the Aurors, are we?"

"No Father," Harry sniffled. "But I don't want to live with Muggles. Can't I just tell them that?"

"I'm sure they'll ask you, Harry, but I'm not sure what good it will do. I don't know yet who the Ministry is sending, but I am familiar with Madame Bones. She's questioned me before because of some unpleasantness the Aurors have had to investigate, and while I wouldn't go so far as to call her friendly, she is fair. Be respectful and answer anything she asks you without hesitation. Hold your head up - no matter what they may say, you are my son, and I expect you to act like it. Look her in the eye, the Ministry Official, too. Don't look to your mother or me for answers. You know what's right."

"Yes, Father... is Mum coming?"

"She's in the Headmaster's office, delivering a notice to Madame Bones that we were given the night we took you in."

"Draco?"

"No. He's in class. It's bad enough they've dragged you away, I won't have them taking both of you away from your studies." Seeing the still dour look on Harry's face, he added, "Besides, the two of you in the same room are more than one poor Auror's able to handle. You'd scare Madame Bones stiff - she's only used to criminals."

Harry smiled.

With a moment's consideration and debate, Lucius bent and picked Harry up, hugging him around the middle. Harry wrapped his arms around his father's neck and hugged tight - he hadn't been picked up since he was a very little boy, but it felt good to be able to hug his father like that without having to be embarrassed or watch his manners.

"The portkey's due to leave any moment," Snape said after a minute or two. "And I don't think arriving late would do you any favors."

Lucius nodded, gave Harry one last tight squeeze, and set him down. He handed the boy a handkerchief to wipe his face; Harry tucked it into his pocket when he was done, and Lucius wasn't so cruel as to ask for it back.

"Remember that your mother and I love you," he said, seriously, then grabbed Harry's hand, threw a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle into Snape's fireplace and whispered, "Dumbledore's office," before stepping inside.

At the precise time, the inquiry party of Harry, Snape, Malfoys, Dumbledore, Madame Bones (who wasn't at all happy with her mauve suit), and Mr. Weasley (who was the Ministry official, and who was practically floating over his blue suit) departed at the gates of Hogwarts by portkey (a de-fuzzed tennis ball) and into the empty house at Number 5 Privet Drive. The crossed the street in a line, allowing Arthur Weasley to knock on the door and make their acquaintances. Petunia Dursley answered, wearing a pink house dress and a sour smile that only got more frownlike when she recognized the man behind Mr. Weasley.

"You!" she exclaimed.

"Hello, Tunie," Snape smirked and brushed past her.

Rather than waiting for the others to enter, she followed after him, hissing in a hoarse whisper. "Vernon may have allowed hosting a couple of officials, but you certainly weren't among them! You're not welcome in this house! Get out! OUT!"

"Is there some problem, Mrs. Dursley?" Arthur Weasley asked mildly.

"I will not have this... person... in my house!"

He looked quickly between Snape, who was still smirking, and Petunia who was stewing, not quite sure what to do. "Severus is here at the Ministry's request," he said finally. "Although I'm the resident expert on Muggle affairs, there's no real substitute for personal experience, and he was the only one with previous knowledge of you and your sister. He's also fairly close to Harry, and-"

"Fine, but I want him out of here as soon as you're finished. And don't even think about poking about in my kitchen!"

Mr. Weasley gave Snape a questioning look; Snape shrugged. "Long story. She thinks I killed her cat when I was twelve by doing something to its cream bowl."

"Did you?"

"So long as it's what she believes, whether I did it or not is beside the point," Snape said, and joined the others in the sitting room where everyone else had taken seats on the couch and chairs.

Arthur followed, not at all comforted by that answer.

"Harry, why don't you sit over here," Petunia offered him a seat next to Vernon, but he shook his head and backed into the space between Lucius' knees so he felt guarded on all sides.

"Let the boy alone, Mrs. Dursley," Arthur said. "He's nervous enough as it is. Do you know who I am, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"Answer with words, son," Lucius chided gently.

"No, sir."

"My name is Arthur Weasley," he said. "I work for the Ministry of Magic. Usually, I wouldn't be the one called for something like this, but it involves Muggles, and that's my department. They hoped I'd be able to facilitate things with your... family... here."

Madame Bones had taken a large blue quill from her bag and set it against a long sheet of parchment. Whenever someone spoke, it wrote down their words so everyone could see them. "To make sure the account's accurate," she said, when she caught Vernon gawking at it. Madame Bones didn't smile, but at least her voice was nice. "Standard procedure for an official inquiry, and quite reliable."

"There's a girl named Bones in Hufflepuff," Harry said.

"My niece," Madame Bones smiled.

"And Ron's my roommate," he turned to Arthur now.

"Yes, I've heard all about your appointment to the Gryffindor House team," he smiled. "Congratulations."

"My brother's on his House team, too," Harry offered.

"Wonderful!" Arthur responded.

Vernon Dursley cleared his throat. "I thought we were here to discuss matters of the boy's family trust, not rooming assignments and team placement."

"I think we're all aware of the reasons this meeting was necessary," Dumbledore said with an uncharacteristic chill to his voice. "Where's your son, Mr. Dursley?"

"At school. Goes to Smeltings, you know. Very exclusive roster, Smeltings, but he was a legacy because of me, so it was easy enough to get him in. Most selective school in Britain, I'd say."

Lucius Malfoy coughed.

"I have a few questions to start us off if you don't mind," Madame Bones interjected before things became more awkward.

"Of course."

Madame Bones stood and faced the Malfoys with a blank expression on her face. Harry backed further into his father's arms, as though afraid he'd be wrenched forcibly away at any moment, and Lucius pulled him up onto his knee. He was still small enough to fit.

"Mrs. Malfoy. I understand it was you who approached Harry's Muggle relatives and removed the child?"

"Yes," Narcissa replied.

"And to your knowledge, these people were given custody of the child after the deaths of his parents?"

"Yes."

"And did they tell you from whom they acquired the boy or how they came into possession of him?"

"Harry's aunt, Mrs. Dursley," she nodded to the horse-faced woman, "said that Dumbledore gave him over to them because they were his only living relations."

"Dumbledore?" In the background, the quill was scratching furiously at the parchment.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps, the Headmaster could explain to this Inquiry why there is no record of placement with the Ministry. Why no Official was assigned to oversee the child's care and why no visits were scheduled to monitor his well being. And why he took it upon himself to place the child in the first place when it is not within his powers to do so."

Every eye in the room turned to a very shocked and out of sorts Dumbledore. He'd expected Madame Bones to focus on the Malfoys and the Dursleys, not him.

"It was imperative that Harry be placed with blood relations," he said. "Lily's sister was the only one he had. There was no time to take him anywhere else."

"Yes, I know that the conditions of the boy's survival were unusual, to say the least. Given the someone lax condition of security following the disappearance of You Know Who, I can understand your desire for secrecy. Perhaps you could provide us some insight as to how your proposed guardianship arrangement was received by the Dursleys?"

"They took the boy in, of course," Dumbledore said.

"Willingly? Was there no resistance? No argument?"

"They said nothing against the idea," Dumbledore replied.

"Mrs. Malfoy, when you spoke to Mrs. Dursley, was she happy with the arrangement proposed by the Headmaster?" Madame Bones turned to Narcissa again.

"No Madame."

"Yet she agreed to care for him?"

"However poor her treatment of the boy, I don't think she would have resorted to outright murder to be rid of him. Neglect yes, but not so severe as to leave an infant on the doorstep in late autumn."

"I don't understand, Mrs. Malfoy," Madame Bones said. "Did Petunia Dursley keep him outside? I thought it was a boot cupboard?"

"Mrs. Dursley retrieved the child from a cupboard. Headmaster Dumbledore left him on the front step, which is where the Dursleys found him the next morning. In his basket."

"Mrs. Dursley," Madame Bones turned to Petunia. "It's my understanding that you have no memory of any of these events?"

"None at all," Petunia said, shortly.

"That would be my fault," Narcissa said. "I'm afraid I lost my temper and Obliviated her memories."

"Would you undo the Obliviation, please?"

"We were asked not to bring our wands."

"Ah... yes... well, under the circumstances, you may use mine, as it is an official request." Madame Bones handed over her wand to Narcissa, who took great pleasure in the uneasy look on both Dursleys' faces.

"Now stay still," she warned. "This is tricky with someone else's wand, you understand."

It was obvious that they didn't, but she didn't give them a chance to complain before she hit Petunia with the reversal to counter her Obliviate.

Petunia sat stunned for a moment before Madame Bones spoke again, "You should have the memories now, Mrs. Dursley, as though freshly made. In your own words, tell us what transpired the day you received custody of Harry."

"I went outside to get the morning paper, and tripped over a little box...no, a basket. It had a sleeping baby in it, and when I took the boy in out of the cold and unwrapped him, there was a note. It said the boy was my nephew and that his parents were dead," she spoke in a distant monotone. "It was horrible."

"I'm sure it couldn't have been easy to find out your sister died like that," Arthur kindly interjected.

Snape scoffed. "That's not why she was upset."

"Indeed not," Petunia continued in her dreamy state of recovered memory. "We'd gone many happy years without so much as thinking about my sister and her freakish life, and the previous night, my husband brought her up, and then to find her issue on the porch...it was too much. What if one of the neighbors had seen whoever dropped him off? However would we have explained their appearance? It was exceedingly difficult to forget I had a sister when her son was staring up at me with her eyes. And all he did was cry and want to be held. And he ate like a horse, and always needed changing. I couldn't stand it. Putting him in the cupboard was the only way I could get a moment's peace."

"Did it not occur to you that you could have contacted someone to take him?"

"And how would I do that?" Petunia asked. "I have no owl, and I had no idea your kind of people even had a government to speak of. Besides the note said keeping him in the house was the only way to make sure the ones who killed Lily didn't try and finish off the whole family."

"Mrs. Malfoy, did you do something other than reverse the Obliviation?" Madame Bones asked, giving Narcissa a hard look over the rim of her monocle.

"Of course not," Narcissa smiled. "But, as you know, things get tricky with other people's wands. Anything could have happened..."

"I see," Madame Bones sniffed in annoyance.

"All in the past, of course," Vernon finally butted in. "We were young parents, with a baby of our own. Had no idea what we were doing really, and no idea where the extra funds would come from to care for them both. Had we known the boy had provisions, it would have made things a mite simpler."

"I'm sure," Madame Bones said.

"We certainly never would have handed the child over to strangers had we been apprised of his true state of affairs. But they seemed like good people, and more than adequately funded to take him, and of course, we thought they were family... though I guess we were wrong on that front, too. I bet they never even talk about his Mum and Dad. Filthy liars, the lot of them."

"You don't talk about my Mum and Father like that!" Harry snapped.

"It's all right, Son," Lucius soothed. "They don't know us, only our actions toward them. It wasn't the best impression on either side."

"Harry, do you know anything about your family?" Arthur asked. "Not the Malfoys, I mean the family you were born into."

"Mum showed me pictures," he said, "and she let me talk to them. There weren't any after school, but I know what they were like then."

"Rubbish!" Vernon Dursley spat out. "Talking to pictures. Pictures talking back. You shouldn't waste the time of important people with silly children's talk. You're too old to believe such things. Coddled and spoiled, no doubt. Well you won't get that here. Here you'll get discipline!"

Tears formed in Harry's eyes listening to Vernon. "Please don't make me live with them, Mr. Weasley. Can't you tell he hates me? He doesn't even know me, and he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you, Harry. He's never seen a picture move. See the ones on the walls? Muggle pictures stay still." Arthur reached for a framed photo of the family at the beach, scanning it long enough to decide their son wasn't a very pleasant looking person, and handed it to Harry, who shook it in an attempt to make them move.

"They don't talk or anything?"

"No."

"But they must be miserable to be stuck like that!"

The longer Harry and Mr. Weasley talked about the oddity of Muggle photos, the angrier Vernon got. Sure, he wanted whatever money was coming to the boy, but this was too surreal. The picture passed from Harry to Lucius, then Narcissa, and all the way around the group until it reached Mr. Weasley again.

"Bless them," he said, like he was speaking to a child. "Such simplicity." Then he sat the photo down on the table again.

"It's not normal! None of you! You needed this freakishness knocked out of you when you were young! Replace it with good, decent sense! Maybe if someone had taken that boy's parents in hand, he wouldn't be an orphan and wouldn't have to be tossed about to sponge off hard working people who only want to live their lives!" Vernon exploded.

"Please, Mr. Weasley...please!" cried Harry.

"Arthur," Lucius said once he trusted himself not land in Azkaban by dealing with Vernon in front of an Auror (though Madame Bones looked like she was weighing the options of getting away with a few indiscretions herself). "Don't give Harry to them."

"That's not your decision, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore interjected, seriously regretting ever mentioning Harry to the Dursleys again.

"Nor is it yours," Lucius coldly pointed out. "Arthur, I'm not going to pretend we've ever gotten along as friends, and I'm not going to pretend that a good bit of that isn't on my own shoulders, but I am asking you not to take your dislike of me out on my son. If you want to find him another home-"

"NO!" Harry shouted. Tears were forming in his eyes again, and his face had gone quite red.

Lucius gave him a warning look. "If the Ministry chooses to find Harry another home, away from Narcissa and myself, then at least don't let it be with them. Send him to Cissy's sister. There's no love lost there, but the Tonkses would have to be an acceptable alternative. He's a Muggleborn, and she's got a daughter who's a bit older than Harry-"

Snape mumbled, "Hufflepuff cauldron melter..."

"Well on her way to becoming an Auror from what I've heard. You can't get much more suitable than that."

"Now see here!" Vernon raged. "That boy's legally mine, and I won't stand for any sort of funny business. Just because some freak with friends in high places thinks they can swindle me out of-"

"Be quiet, Mr. Durlsey!" Madame Bones actually raised her voice. "Andromeda still isn't a blood relation, Lucius, I'd be inclined to agree with you if she had any legitimate claim on Harry, but..."

"But they do," Narcissa said. "The same one I did - Sirius. Sirius was named Harry's godfather at birth. He has no other relations; Regulus has disappeared, and is most likely dead from all we can tell. Andromeda, Bellatrix, and I are his closest relatives."

"Sirius' title would have been stripped as soon as he went to prison," Madame Bones pointed out. "It's not valid."

"But it WAS valid when Harry was orphaned," Dumbledore said. "He hadn't been tried yet. Check the records and see for yourself."

"Loopholes, Albus? I'm shocked," Snape scoffed.

"If it takes granting custody to Andromeda to keep him safe, so be it. But if you hand him over to those...two," (Narcissa's breeding won out over her temper, but it was close), "know that you're sending an innocent child off to be abused again."

"Please don't, Mr. Weasley, Madame Bones," Harry sobbed. "Please."

"We will check that, I promise you," Madame Bones assured them. "But it will take time. And should the need arise before then, I think we have to continue to consider the Dursleys his guardians."

"No!"

"It's only temporary son," Lucius said, with restrained fury. "And you'll probably never see them again because you'll be at school, and if you do have to stay here, you won't be alone. I'm sure Mr. Weasley's son would come and see you, and I don't think we could find a restraint strong enough to keep Millicent away."

"Oh no!" Vernon snapped. "If he's mine, he's going to a regular school. None of that ridiculous finger waving and spark shooting. I won't put out a penny for it. And there'll be no freakish popping in and out. He'll have normal friends, assuming he's capable of making them. I won't have it!"

"His education was arranged before he was born, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said, severely. "Paid in full, by his parents."

"You still need permission from his guardian to take him out of the country. I won't have it! There'll be none of this obscene hocus pocus and pointy hats!"

"You can't stop me from going to school!" Harry cried. "You can't!"

"Listen to the mouth on that little reprobate!" Vernon seethed. "Just listen to the insolence! One week with me, boy, and you wouldn't be running that mouth, I promise you! I'll snap that blasted wand clean in half and you can watch it burn! See how much use magic is to you in the real world!"

Harry turned terrified, pleading eyes to his father, who had shot to his feet, as angry as he'd ever seen him. Lucius' hand on the head of his cane was stark white at the knuckles. He tucked Harry behind him and the lardish Muggle found himself not facing a child whom he could loom over easily, but the frozen glare of a Death Eater who was not going to be intimidated or stand aside while his family was there.

"Watch your tongue, Muggle, or you will find yourself without one," Lucius snarled.

Though no one had ever seen the face behind his mask, Snape recognized the steel in his friend's eyes that only settled there when some unfortunate soul was about to meet an unsympathetic end, and knew his friend was dangerously close to crossing a line he couldn't erase.

Lucius' grip on his cane had changed so that his hand now rested below the silver snake's head, and it would only take a small push to strain his temper beyond its limit. No matter what the rules of the day, Snape was aware that Lucius' wand was encased there, well within reach.

"Consider," Snape spoke from his position leaning against the wall in an effort to break the stand off between Lucius and Vernon, "the long term effects of your actions, Madame Bones."

"Such as?" the witch in question asked.

"Such as the temperament you will instill in The Boy Who Lived," he answered. "I am all too familiar with Petunia Dursley and her views on our world, and I can tell you in excruciating detail the kinds of values she would instill in her nephew concerning his talents and gifts - by Pensieve if you'd like to see the memories. How do you think a child subjected to that will respond should he ever be called upon to fulfill the destiny so many seem to think he has? Will he leap to your defense? Or will he remember the people who threw him to the wolves? By that time, would he even have the skill to defend himself, much less anyone else?"

"A very Slytherin view of things, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"Just the voice of experience, Albus," Snape sneered. "Harry, what would you think of Madame Bones or Mr. Weasley if they sent you to your Aunt and Uncle's house?" All the attention now turned back to Harry again.

"I'd hate you!" Harry screamed.

"What if it was it was me or Professor Dumbledore?"

"YOU WOULDN'T!" Harry exploded; he looked dangerously close to exhausting himself with the fit. "Professor Dumbledore... please," Harry ran to him. "You said I could trust you. You said you'd protect me and that Hogwarts was like family. Family doesn't let someone go get hurt when they can stop it. I don't care if you break my broom and never let me fly again... but let me stay here, with mum and father."

"Flying brooms? NONSENSE! THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A FLYING BROOM!"

"I think that's quite enough out of you, Mr. Dursley," Madame Bones said, and hit him with a Silencing Charm, but Vernon continued to scream and redden even without a working voice.

"If you make me go with them, I'll poison him!" Harry said. "I will. Tripp taught me how, and Uncle Severus taught me more than that! I'll make it so I can't stay with him. He won't be there!"

Vernon Dursley's face went from purple to white, just before he fainted. A small smile appeared on Lucius' face, as well as Snape's, and though she'd never admit it, Madame Bones wasn't looking too upset, either.

"I know my husband," Petunia said, coolly. "He will not change his mind about this... unnatural state of affairs concerning the boy. We have a son the fre-" she paused at the deadly look from Snape. "The boy's age, and I won't have him exposed to someone so unstable."

"He's not unstable," Dumbledore said. "He's upset."

"He threatened my family, and now you want to threaten it further by painting a bull's eye on us all for the sake of my sister's mistakes. I don't think so. If the boy were to come home with us, you'd never see him again. As I, rather than Vernon, am Harry's actual relative, perhaps you could give me whatever needs to be signed to transfer his care to your government before my husband wakes up. I fear his desire for a quick fortune is clouding his judgment, and that placing the boy here will only mean misery for all involved."

"A very logical, and almost compassionate, decision, Tunie," Snape scoffed.

"Whatever gets you off my furniture fastest," she spat back.

Madame Bones produced a quill and parchment with the appropriate words to dissolve the Dursleys' guardianship and Petunia signed it quickly. "Thank you, Mrs. Dursley. You've made my job much easier. For now, we leave the boy where he is - meaning the school. No matter his living arrangements come the holidays, this is where he'd be for now anyway," Madame Bones said. "We will return to the Ministry with our record of this meeting, and check into the claims put forward by Mrs. Malfoy as her cousin's proxy. Once that's done, we can proceed further."

"But who is to be Harry's legal guardian in the meantime? If he needs an advocate or permission?" Narcissa asked.

"I will." Once again, Snape spoke from his spot against the wall.

"Minerva is his Head of House," Dumbledore said. "If anyone should be in charge of his day to day needs-"

"I'm familiar with Harry. He's familiar with me. And since I'm in the dungeon and he's not, he won't be forced to feel like he's under constant scrutiny."

"You can't honestly expect an Auror to agree to allow you stewardship of a child - this child, of all people," Dumbledore scoffed.

"Why not?" Snape asked. "They've gotten glowing recommendations from you on my behalf for years. You've personally vouched for me on more that one occasion. You aren't changing your position now, are you?" His voice hardened and became softer, taking on the dangerous quality so many erring students knew was the harbinger of danger.

"Is there some reason Professor Snape should be excluded from consideration?" Madame Bones asked, leveling her attention at Dumbledore. "It was your word that secured his position in the school, and if there's something that makes him unsuitable as a caregiver, I would think you would have mentioned it before now."

"Not unfit, no," Dumbledore said quickly. "But he's a bachelor. He's never had children to look after."

"Uncle Severus has looked after me lots," Harry said. "Draco, too."

"I've looked after thirty children at a time, four classes a day for almost a decade," Snape drawled.

Arthur whispered something to Madame Bones; she whispered back. "Professor Snape will be entered as a proxy guardian for the time being. If you will all certify your presence here, we shall adjourn. Arthur, will you please revive Mr. Dursley? I'd do it, but...well... I don't want to."

Arthur nodded to Madame Bones with a slight grin for her last words and woke Dursley up; he wasn't happy to discover he'd lost control of what was, undoubtedly, a fortune beyond his dreams.

One by one, each person present stepped forward and placed their finger to the bottom of the official record parchment, and a drop of blood appeared, followed by their names, in neat script. Madame Bones was the first to leave, followed by Arthur, then Dumbledore and Narcissa with Harry. Leaving wasn't nearly so time sensitive as arriving, so they could go one at a time through the Floo.

Snape and Lucius brought up the rear, only Lucius didn't seem in a hurry to leave. "I'll only be a minute," he said when Snape paused at the door. "Muggles or not, it doesn't affect my breeding and I intend to give them a proper farewell."

"Lucius..." Snape warned.

Lucius tossed his cane toward the door, and Snape caught it out of the air.

"Feel better?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm not sure if he's safer now or worse off," Snape grumbled. "And you might want to shut her up. She may be thin, but she can screech like an owl."

"Duly noted," Lucius said, and wandlessly Silenced Petunia Dursley before she could protest.

Snape left the house, and the Dursleys, to Lucius and walked back across the street to return to Hogwarts.

As soon as the door was closed, the man Lucius had been pretending to be surrendered to the one he actually was. "Let me make something quite clear, Muggle. Dumbledore and the Ministry and the Aurors will tell you how there's nothing to be afraid of from my kind. How we're all the same, really, and should learn to live together. I am not of a like mind."

Lucius paused long enough to nod through the window in a very genteel manner to someone who was passing.

"I may wear your clothes today, because I must admit, I have worn many faces when the need arose, but we are not the same, Muggle. We are not equals, Muggle. I am a Pureblood, Muggle, though I don't expect you to understand what that means."

"Stop calling me that," Vernon snarled. Petunia had the good sense to keep still.

"It's all I will ever call you, Muggle. You are not worth giving a name. There are house elves I hold in higher esteem than you and yours." Lucius sneered, knowing they wouldn't understand the significance of that statement.

"N-n-now l-l-l-look here, sir," Vernon Dursley said, puffing up. "Y-y-y-you can't tr-tr-treat me this w-w-way in my own h-h-home!"

"Are you actually trying to threaten me?" A blonde brow arched high on his forehead. Magic or no, Lucius Malfoy was a formidable opponent, and in the close quarters of that tiny sitting room, he seemed bigger, taller, and much more intimidating. Especially once he started stalking forward in such a way where it was obvious that if Vernon didn't back up he'd be trampled. "Don't threaten me, Muggle. You're a novice at the craft, and it's insulting...if mildly amusing. Your safety net just Flooed back to Scotland, and without them, I don't have to pretend to tolerate the fact that you are polluting the air I breathe with your stench."

Petunia Dursley made quite a show of trying to distract him, but to no avail. He never took his eyes off Vernon.

"Perhaps your wife is aware of the way things work in my world," he said coldly. "She seems familiar with Severus, so I wonder if she's aware I was his mentor, which is to say whatever opinion she holds him in, you can magnify it tenfold on my account. And perhaps she will understand the gravity of my telling you that whatever limits Severus has in his behavior, I do not possess."

Petunia turned an unhealthy shade of puce and took a seat on the couch.

"Good. At least one of you has a working mental process. Surrendering my wand in no way makes me harmless," he hissed, bearing down on the obese man who was trying to run in reverse, as though making it to the kitchen would afford him some kind of protection. With a wave of his hand, the swinging door behind Vernon turned to a stone wall.

"I am more than capable of ending your life without it." He closed one large hand around Vernon's beefy neck, and it was only the actual circumference that kept him from closing off the man's windpipe. "But I prefer methods that don't leave suspicious marks. And you can believe me when I tell you I have ended men and women far your superior, and that all of them were begging me to do it before they fell."

He let go and Vernon slumped down the wall. "I very vividly remember the condition my son was in when we saved him from your dubious graces - do not think for one moment that you have earned my forgiveness for that. It's a skill I don't possess. Endanger my family, or even look at them in a way that I deem inappropriate, and there will be no safe haven for you in this life, nor will I allow the solace of moving on to the next until I am satisfied that you have paid for you arrogance and treachery. Your screams will haunt the dreams of children all the way to London. Or, perhaps, I'll simply transfigure you into a block of wood and use you for a Yule Log."

He put his hat on to leave like he'd just gotten up from afternoon tea. Neither Vernon nor Petunia moved to stop him. "And for the record," he said. "That's how you threaten someone. If the party in question feels they have something to say when you're finished, you did it wrong. If they're stunned silent, you hit your mark. Don't make me review the lesson, Muggle. If I have to speak to you again, they cease to be threats and become actions. And in my world, punishment is reciprocal. Hurt my son, and it will be yours who suffers for it."

He tossed a look at Petunia. "Your tongue will loosen in about an hour, and you-" he turned to Vernon, "-can consider yourself in my debt for the gift of silence." At the door, his face returned to the immaculate aristocrat with perfect poise. "Thank you for your hospitality. The tea was wonderful, and you have a lovely home." Then he gave them a polite nod, and left in a much better mood than when he'd arrived.