Ok, I wasn't planning any more stories outside of the ones I'm continuing, but I dreamed this, and thought, why not? And it's really, really whimsical so if you don't like the whimsy of Harry becoming a girl, don't read it.

The eyes have it

Prologue

Petunia stared into Lily's eyes, which were looking at her with confusion over why the boy was being punished, the way Lily had looked before That Boy had explained that Lily was a witch.

And then this boy was changing in front of her, and she was looking at Lily at the same age, four years old, when they were still friends.

Petunia fainted.

When she came to, there was a cushion under her head and a blanket over her, and Harry was holding her hand. He still looked like Lily.

"Aunt P'tunia? I ... I didn't mean to upset you. But I saw pictures of her behind your eyes, and you seemed to be hugging her, so I thought if I looked like her you might like me more."

Petunia shut her eyes and wondered how she would have felt if her own father had treated Lily the way Vernon treated Harry.

"Thank you for trying," she said. "I ... I think you'd better change back before your uncle gets home."

"I did try but I don't know how," said Harry. "It was a big WISH and I don't know how to unwish. Aunt P'tunia, I want to use the bathroom, but I've not got the right bits."

"It's a total change to being a girl?" Petunia was shocked. "I ... give me a hand to get up and I'll come to the bathroom with you and, er, explain how to ..." she hoped that magic had understood the intent and had connected everything up properly. Having to take a child with no private parts at all to hospital was terrifying.

Fortunately, magic does understand intent when wish magic is involved, and Harry was too young to be embarrassed.

"I'm surprised that evil old man in the pimp suit hasn't shown up," said Petunia.

"Oh, it doesn't make a noise like moving or shifting things does," said Harry, as if that explained it. Maybe, thought Petunia, it did.

"Well, we shall need to talk to someone of ... those types," she said. "I ... we need to get you changed back."

"I like being a girl," said Harry. "Nobody will call me a sissy if I don't like football and like to draw."

"Well, we still need to talk to someone, in case it causes any problems," said Petunia. "I don't know what your uncle is going to say."

Harry shuddered.

"Didn't he like her?" he asked.

"Your mother? He hated her and all she stood for," said Petunia. "I ... it wasn't fair, I was the older, and she got to go to a special school and do magic."

Harry hugged her spontaneously.

"We must see if there's a way for you to do magic too," he said. "If ... if you want to be a freak too."

Petunia burst into tears.

"I wanted it. And I've persuaded myself I hate it but I still want it," she sobbed. "But Dumbledore said I never would be able to do it. I have hated him from then, he wouldn't even let me go to school and study the things that didn't need magic."

"He's a horrid old man in a pimp suit," said Harry, parroting back what he didn't really understand. "I bet he doesn't know everything."

"Well, I expect it's too late, but you never know," said Petunia, not wanting to dampen this unwonted desire to help her. She thought the boy ... the child ... had stopped wanting to please.

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Unseen on the floor, a small black residue of evil, which had been ejected by the change, wriggled, helplessly.

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Vernon Dursley came through the front door in his usual ebullient way. He stared at the little girl standing on the stairs with his wife.

"What, another bloody freak from your family?" he roared, starting forward. He stood on the small black residue of evil, slipped, flailed wildly, knocking off his mother's decorative barometer and landing heavily on his back, smashing his head on the floor, and being hit by the brass end of the barometer on his forehead split seconds later.

Petunia and Harry both screamed.

Petunia ran for the phone to call for an ambulance, and Harry sat hunched up on the stairs. Neither of them noticed the small black residue of evil on Vernon's shoe vaporising and entering the zig-zag scar caused by the falling barometer.

Inside the living host, the horcrux frantically started searching for a magical core. It was to be disappointed, but it had made its choice, and the magic of its construction was leached out in making some kind of connection.

The ambulance crew knew nothing of horcruxes, but plenty about head-wounds. Petunia declared that Vernon must have had mud on his boots to have slipped; and there was a greasy stain on the floor. The ambulance crew were used to domestics, but they were more used to clearing away the remains of scrawny women like Petunia from assaults by big bullies like Vernon, so if she pushed him or booby-trapped the floor, they decided not to get curious about it. Especially as the scrawny woman's daughter was about the age so many men started interfering with. And if the ambulance crew jumped to some wrong conclusions this was not about to impact on Petunia.

Petunia phoned Mrs. Polkiss and asked if she could keep Dudley overnight as his father had suffered a nasty accident. Mrs. Polkiss reluctantly agreed. Petunia bundled Harry into the car, with a hat over his now rather red hair. Children at that age were sexless.

The Accident and Emergency admittance room was scary, and Harry hung close to Petunia as she answered questions about her husband for the records. At last they were shown into a small waiting room, and Petunia was brought tea, and Harry was given a glass of juice.

Petunia turned to Harry.

"Harry, if you want to stay being a girl, we can't call you Harry. Would you prefer to be Harriet or have a flower name like the other girls in my family always have had?"

"I want a flower name," said Harry.

"Hyacinth? Holly?" Petunia wondered.

"Does it have to begin with –h-?" asked Harry.

"I suppose not. I don't know how much of a fuss the other sort will make," said Petunia. Harry frowned.

"Well if they haven't got better sense than to wear Cadbury purple velvet suits, I 'spect their ideas are silly," he said. "I like Dandelions but I don't think it's a name. I like Daisies too."

"Well, if you want to be Daisy, you can always change it to a more formal Marguerite when you are older, which is a kind of daisy."

Daisy nodded.

"I can be Daisy Harriet," he suggested.

"Daisy Harriet Jamie; some girls are called Jamie, it's a bit American but if your father left you any money it should help."

Daisy nodded.

"Am I still Potter?"

"No, you can be Evans for now. This is difficult. We need to check with their sort to see you haven't been hurt by changing, but I want to keep it from that old man. And what shall I do about Dudley? And Vernon when he recovers?"

Daisy slipped her hand into Petunia's. Apparently being a girl made her more wanted.

"Tell Dudley the freak went away and you got him a sister," he said. "He won't care." She thought for a moment. "And we could run away from Uncle Vernon if my father did leave any money."

"Unfortunately we can't. The old man would know if we left; he put up wards made with your blood for some reason."

Daisy wrinkled her nose.

"Yuk!" she said. "Is that the stones round the garden that tingle?"

"I ... probably," said Petunia.

"Oh, that's easy then," said Daisy. "We can take them with us. We can put them round the car, and then round where we go to live."

Petunia stared. Could it be that easy? The old buffoon had already stopped them moving once, but of course they had intent to leave the wards.

"It's worth a try," she whispered. It would take a lot of planning, but she could do it.

The doctor attending Vernon came in.

"Mrs. Dursley, could I have a word?" he asked.

Petunia went out of the room with him.

"Mrs. Dursley, I'm sorry, but your husband is in a persistent vegetative state, there is no brain activity at all," said the doctor. "I would not recommend keeping the life support."

Petunia swallowed. Vernon had a nice little life insurance policy, and she was sick of his temper.

"Turn it off, then," she said. "No point letting his son hope fruitlessly."

As the machine was turned off, the horcrux struggled in its host, but had no longer got enough magic to do anything but die quietly along with Vernon's body.

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Daisy was outfitted hastily by Petunia on the way home from the hospital, taking advantage of the St Elizabeth Hospice charity shop.

"It would have been nice if the old fool who dumped you had arranged for us to have your keep," s Petunia had said. "I didn't like your father, but he dressed like Onassis meets Rothschild. He must have had some money to help towards your upbringing. But stuck in Privet Drive and unable to move to a place where we could entertain properly, your uncle couldn't get the promotion he wanted. It wouldn't have been far to Birchtree Approach, but the houses are far superior."

Daisy nodded; the bus into town overlooked Birchtree Approach for a brief glimpse over a bridge, and the houses were large, surrounded by big gardens, well set back from the road, and had double garages. Some of them had swimming pools.

"I think I had uncles," she said.

"Well, we shall see about finding out about them." Said Petunia.

Dudley stared curiously at Daisy.

"This is your new sister," said Petunia. "Play nicely with her. You'll have to keep all your things in one room though, she needs your second room."

"Why? She can sleep in the cupboard under the stairs with the freak," said Dudley.

"Dudley Dursley, you are not being nice to your sister," said Petunia. "The freak has gone, and you are not to refer to anyone as a freak again."

"Well, she'll have more room in the cupboard then, won't she?" said Dudley. "Daddy says ..."

"Dudley, your father's manners have rubbed off on you and they are disgraceful," said Petunia. "There are freaks who can do magic but not all people who do magic are freaks. Your sister can do magic. She isn't a freak."

The next few days were weird for Harry/Daisy. Dudley got to share the chores and was yelled at by Petunia if she thought he wasn't trying hard enough; and he got to sleep in the fold-out bed Petunia had found in the charity shop, and it was a lot nicer than the thin mattress under the stairs. It was the best time Daisy had ever had.

It was as well, thought Petunia, that neither of them had started school. That would have been most embarrassing and difficult to explain. And really, the old coot should have provided some means of emergency communications. He should have foreseen something like this, and suppose someone who wasn't one of that Lord Thingy's men came sniffing around, as an innocent patsy of the bad guys? And what if Dumbledore had lied, and he was the bad guy pretending to be a harmless headmaster?

It helped that the barometer, which Vernon had never understood, had been smashed and Petunia had thrown it out. It was of sentimental value to nobody but Vernon, and had Petunia but known it, it held charms to enhance animosity and negative feelings. Removing that from the house left Dudley far more stable, and less likely to attack his cousin. He started losing weight as well, not being inclined to comfort eat because of the vague negative ambiance.

And with the insurance money, Petunia went quietly house hunting, hoping to be moved in with a son and daughter before they started school in September. London was too expensive, but she wanted to leave Surrey. Staying in the same county made it too easy to track. She considered moving back to Manchester where she had grown up with Lily, but it was a rough neighbourhood, and moreover she did not know if That Boy still lived there. She did not want to run into Severus Snape. It would be handy to be a short train journey away from London, for the magical world, but off the radar of Albus Dumbledore.

She short-listed houses in Crawley, in Sussex, and Gidea Park, Romford, in Essex. Time to take the children to look them over.

The house in Gidea park was nice, a 1930s semi with oddly-shaped bay windows which curved away from the house and then ran straight, the other side of the curve being completed by the bay of the house next door, a very Art Deco look. The front garden was a reasonable size and the back garden ran a long way back, giving room to be divided into areas for play, a vegetable plot and a region of flowers outside the back French windows. An old mulberry tree grew near the house, and several apple trees towards the other end. Quaintly, there was a toilet under the stairs, sunk several steps down, as well as an upstairs bathroom.

The house in Crawley was not quite as nice, being unremarkable, and a plain, brick semi, though Petunia reflected that being unremarkable was not necessarily a disadvantage. The cost of repairing the curved sections of fancy bay windows would, after all, be considerable. And getting them double glazed would cost a bomb too. It had been the garden as much as the quirky nature which had attracted her there. This house had a smaller garden, though it was near a play park, and fate took a hand when they visited the play-park and saw a small girl the age of the Evans children, since Petunia had reverted to her maiden name, being harried by several other children.

Daisy was off like a streak, and Dudley glanced up at his mother.

"Go help your sister," said Petunia. Lily had been beaten up in the play park more than once; it was one thing the Snape boy had been good for, helping her out. When Lily wasn't doing the same for him. Petunia wished now that she had joined her sister, and she wasn't about to let Dudley make the same mistake.

The woman rushing over towards the other little girl gasped as Daisy took her hand and the bullies flew backward.

Petunia strolled forward.

"Petunia Evans. It looks as though your daughter does accidental magic too," she said.

"I'm sorry, Mummy, they were hurting me," said the other child. "And they put my books in the mud again. I didn't mean to do freaky things."

"Darling, you have to defend yourself," said the woman, putting her arms around the child. "My name is Emma Granger, and what do you mean by 'accidental magic'?"

"I mean what your daughter falsely calls 'freaky things'," said Petunia. "My sister was a witch and so is my ... daughter, Daisy. Dudley hasn't shown any signs of being a wizard; I never learned magic either," she sighed. "And the self-opinionated, smug, self-satisfied magical community won't tell you about it until you are nearly driven to distraction by it when she reaches her eleventh birthday and you get the letter from their school in Scotland, followed by the visit from a patronising old biddy who tells you that you can take up their offer, or have your memories modified, and the magic bound on the talented child, something I understand will kill them young."

Emma Granger gasped.

"You sound quite cynical about it," she said.

"I am," said Petunia. "They also won't tell you that they are fighting a war, and a magical terrorist killed my sister and is targeting my daughter because her mother did a ritual which caused him to be temporarily killed, and no, I don't understand it because they won't give you a straight answer."

The Evans family ended up at the Grangers' nice detatched house for tea, dinner, and staying the night, with Daisy sleeping in with Hermione, and Dudley in the second guest room.

And this is when Petunia decided to trust this nice, normal family with the whole story, including Harry's original status as a boy, which had Dan looking horrified for a moment at a boy sleeping in his little girl's bed until Petunia assured him that the change was total, and that Harry/Daisy was happy to stay that way.

"And my sister was at a disadvantage too, because they won't tell you their customs and how to go on in their world, or that it was only because she married a rich man that enabled her to have any respect in their bigoted society," said Petunia, bitterly.

"But if we don't accept their society, we have our memories wiped," said Dan, flatly.

Petunia nodded.

"And Dumbledore just waltzes in and interferes with lives like ordinary folk were so many pawns," she said. "About the only people I think wizards can't mess with is the goblins, who do the banking."

"So, we need to be in the good with these goblins," said Dan. "Are there any books on them?"

"I don't know," said Petunia. "There's a place in London called Diagon Alley, but you can't get in there without someone magical showing you where it is; it's hidden by magic. I was planning on taking the children there and getting some books, and seeing if Daisy's inheritance is affected, and sending an owl – they send letters by owl – to one of Daisy's father's friends."

"So can one of our magical children see this place?" asked Dan.

"Yes, I think so," said Petunia. "Lily could, when she went to get her kit. And actually, I could see it, I can see a lot of things, but I can't do anything."

"This needs to be done in two parts, then," said Dan. "First, we need a reconnaissance mission, to get books on the society, how to blend into it, so nobody realises our children are new blood until they know them."

"Harder said than done, the purebloods all know each other."

"Crap. Well, we can look at our options. And maybe we can see if there are any books on foreign wizards. How opposed would you be to moving abroad? Emma and I would do anything for our little girl to be happy."

"It wouldn't bother me," said Petunia. "Escaping totally from Dumbeldore and his machinations would suit me fine."

"We're going to have to start explaining to our little girl that not all teachers and grown ups are infallible," said Emma. "She has such a hard time relating to other children, she sees grown ups as the only people she can trust."

"I don't trust anyone easily," said Petunia. "But you're in a similar situation to me, except not at risk yet from the dark lord nobody will name. And Daisy reckons we can bring the blood wards with us."

This necessitated more explanations, and the Grangers frowned.

"So tell me this," said Dan, "These wards protected Harry, as she was, as long as your house was his home. But your husband was extremely averse to magic, and was abusive. So what on earth keeps an abused kid from considering some place as 'home' as soon as they've gone to somewhere else which seems better, like boarding school, or staying with a friend whose parents are accepting?"

"Believe me, Dan, I am of the opinion that Dumbledore thinks he knows best and thinks he knows everything, and if I may use a vulgar expression from where I grew up, he's one as knows everything and knows nowt."

Dan and Emma both nodded.

"We've both met academics with similar belief in themselves," said Dan. "And I've served in the military and I could tell you about some officers who consider themselves to be Sun Tzu, Clauswitz, Julius Caesar and Bismarck all rolled into one, where generally they'd be hard pushed to be Sir Redvers Buller."

"I've heard of Julius Caesar," said Petunia.

"Well, the rest are also famous for their wartime competence, and Buller was a man promoted above his ability," said Dan. "Well, if we have a war, and Daisy has an enemy, I'll instruct our three on tactics, strategy, and logistics. When they are old enough they can join a rifle club. In the meantime, something we were considering for Hermione is a karate club. If they can handle themselves physically, they have an advantage against people who have to draw wands to be able to attack. People who live by the gun, and I wager that wand-users are no different, will tend to assume that they have the weapon and don't bother with things that might save their lives, like unarmed combat."

Petunia nodded.

"Much as I dislike the idea, I fear you're right, Dan. Now we will have to get back to those wretched wards tomorrow, but perhaps we can plan a day in London for that reconnaissance. Let me do the talking, I'll ask for aid to get to the Owl Post to urgently contact a relative in the Wizarding world."

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The midweek excursion to London saw Dan and Petunia and the children entering the Leaky Cauldron. They had decided that looking like a couple with children would attract least attention, and as Petunia knew where she was doing, she was the obvious choice of the two women. None of the children had wanted to be left behind, though Dudley was nervous over going into a place full of people he was learning not to call 'freaks'.

Tom, the barkeeper, was fairly accommodating about a family needing to send news.

"You might do well to get yourselves an owl, so you can contact relatives," he said. "Eyelops Owl Emporium, but you will have to change your muggle money at Gringotts."

"I've been to Gringotts before; thank you," said Petunia. Tom tapped the bricks to allow them out into the alley, and Petunia led them into a different world.

"Gringotts first," said Petunia.

"Wait a moment, let's go into that book shop and see what they have on goblins," said Dan. "We can always ask them to hold books we choose until we have been to get money, and if there are no wizards who read books in bookshops, I'll be much surprised."

"Very well," said Petunia.

The children were attracted to the children's books of course, and Hermione frowned at some brightly coloured histories of Harry Potter.

"How can a little boy do all this?" she asked.

"He didn't," said Daisy, tersely.

"How do you know? Do you know him?" Hermione got excited.

"Cross your heart and hope to die if you tell what I tell you unless I say you may," said Daisy.

Hermione knew how to cross her heart and hope to die. The quick golden glow of magic was a surprise.

"I used to be Harry Potter, but I wanted to be a girl, and it was accidental magic," said Daisy, in a low voice. "Dudley doesn't know. I ... I guess you can tell your parents."

"But they shouldn't write things that aren't true," said Hermione. "I'm going to show Aunt Petunia."

The adults had decided that adopting dutch aunties and an uncle would make life easiest.

Petunia leafed through the books Hermione showed her, and frowned.

"It can't be legal to do this without royalties going to the child whose supposed life is written about," she said. "Something else to take up with the goblins. We will need one each of those ridiculous things."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," said Hermione.

Dan was scanning through a book on goblins and their customs and etiquette.

"We'll leave learning gobbledegook until later," he decided. "A half-hearted effort will bring us nothing but scorn. The children should learn that too. And from what I'm seeing in spell books, they need Latin and perhaps Greek. I am thinking we need to find more children who have magic, so we can set up our own private school to prepare them properly."

"Can we do that? Isn't it the law for children to go to school?" asked Petunia. Dan gave a feral grin.

"The 1946 education act says that all children between five and sixteen years need to be given an appropriate education at school or otherwise. This covers kids who have tutors, and you can opt out of state education and either use a private school, or what they call 'education otherwise' which is essentially home schooling. We had been considering it for Hermione considering how much trouble sending her to nursery school has been, and how many times we've had to replace the windows when she comes home upset and her magic breaks everything in the room. You may have noticed we just don't have knickknacks."

"I wondered if it was a minimalist choice."

"No, it's self-preservation. Hermione has a strong will and a lot of anger. All our ornaments are packed away in tissue paper because she gets upset when she breaks things."

"We've had that happen too," said Petunia. "Vernon wouldn't let Harry into the parlour."

They made their way up the alley, Dudley hardly able to keep his eyes of moving pictures of quidditch players.

"I want to do that," he whispered.

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The goblin teller looked down his nose at the obvious muggles.

"I need to talk to someone about the Potter estate, and let's not waste your gold and mine with smalltalk about it," snarled Dan.

The teller looked startled.

"Come this way," he said, leading the group into a private room. Shortly, another goblin appeared.

"My name's Griphook; I have authorisation to deal with queries about the Potter estate," said Griphook.

Dan nodded his head.

"Then if you can help me, I shall wish your gold great growth and your enemies permanent withering," he said.

"You are knowledgeable. And yet you are a muggle," said Griphook.

"I want to do business with you, and I believe in courtesy in the realm of another, and the following of their customs," said Dan. "And I'd rather be courteous to goblins, for I've reasons not to fully trust wizards."

"Well now!" said Griphook. "Maybe we can do good business. What can I do for you?"

"Before I waste your time, will it render the Potter estate inoperable if Harry James Potter has, with accidental magic become Daisy Harriet Jamie Potter Evans?" asked Dan.

Griphook glanced at the little girls.

"I'll need a heritance test," he said. "I took the liberty of bringing the ancestry determination equipment for the purpose, since none of you look like Harry Potter. Though the little miss looks like Lady Lily Potter."

"James was a lord?" Petunia blurted out.

Griphook grinned a nasty grin.

"It's not used most of the time, but yes," he said.

"What do I have to do, Mr. Griphook?" asked Daisy.

"Just let me prick your finger, Miss Evans, and let it drip onto this parchment," said Griphook. Daisy did not even squeak, and watched the blood as it dripped, and the words forming.

"Magic has accepted your change of name," Griphook pointed. "But it shows you are the only child of James and Lily Potter, and that you are the only living descendent of the Peverells. The outer line merely lists what magical houses you have in your bloodline, and as the descendent of a pure bred wizard, that is going to be most of them. You are eligible to access your trust vault when you have your key."

"How do I get that, sir?" asked Daisy.

"Your magical guardian holds it until you are eleven," said Griphook.

"Mr. Griphook, I imagine that will be Dumbledore whom I neither like nor trust," said Petunia. "He does not know of Daisy's change of sex, or at least he never turned up to bind her magic like he did with the first extreme bout of accidental magic."

"He bound Mr. Potter's magic? That's not legal," said Griphook.

"I'm not sure if a lot of what this Dumbledork has done is legal, Master-accountant," said Dan, who had a good eye for uniform and had read how the goblins marked their garb. "I can't think that leaving a child on a doorstep in the small hours in November is legal, nor expecting people to put up with being warded in a way that they cannot move home if they want without their permission let alone having a child dumped on them without permission."

Griphook's ears went up.

"Sir, I believe you may want to have an appointment with Ragnok, who loathes Dumbledore," he said. "He is the Director. And Miss Evans must go to St Mungos to have her magic unbound, and the children will need inoculations against magical diseases. They are given as potions, not the needles of the muggle world. I am sure we can negotiate to issue another key, and handle Miss Evans' accounts for her."

Dan nodded.

"Thank you. How nice not to need needles! And please, call me Dan; I think we are in for a long and fruitful friendship in the mutual destruction of our foes. And will you accept muggle money to pay for a heritance test for my own daughter?"

"We accept any money," said Griphook. "Any money is good money, and can be invested in the appropriate world."

"Then I'll open an account with you, if I may, for my family, so I can draw your money to spend on books," said Dan.

"Certainly. Permit me to acquire another heritance pack," said Griphook.

"A moment; did Lily and James leave wills, please?" asked Petunia.

"They did; and Albus Dumbldore, in his capacity as leader of the wizgamot had them sealed," said Griphook.

"So any friends of theirs might be deprived of bequests too?" asked Petunia.

"Indeed, Miss Evans. And who knows what secrets are hidden," said Griphook.

"Do you happen to know what secrets are hidden?" asked Petunia, shrewdly.

"Why, I could not disclose that," said Griphook. "But I think you'll find a copy of the will in the Potter vault, and the Potter heir is quite entitled to remove books and documents from the main vault, just not money."

"And what books and documents would you advise Daisy to remove?" asked Petunia.

Griphook gave an approving grin. Petunia made a mental note to never irritate goblins; genial ones were scary enough.

"I would advise the family grimoire and the diaries and journals of Miss Evans' immediate family," he said. "Also the copy of the will, a certain map, and the ring of heir, which Miss Evans may wear until she is of age at seventeen, or emancipated, which will give certain protections against such things as legilimensy and mind-control spells and potions."

"Good God," said Petunia. "Leg .. what?"

"Legilimensy. You might call it mind reading," said Griphook.

"I would think that ring would be a good idea," said Petunia.

"I'll dispatch a runner with that list, whilst I test Miss Granger," said Griphook. "The account will be billed for our consultation of course."

Hermione was bursting with questions, but her father had forbidden her to even speak to a goblin unless spoken to. She was jigging up and down with excitement.

The test was performed, and Griphook grinned.

"Ah, Miss Granger, last heir to the Dagworth-Granger account," he said. "A descendent of squibs; those born to a magical family without magic. A familial connection fairly close to the line Prince, as well. And since Eileen Prince was disowned, I believe that makes you heir apparent, which should stand you in good stead at Hogwarts, where Severus Snape is your cousin and would probably do a lot to be re-adopted back into the Prince line. Nobody bothers to actually disown Squibs, so the line is recognised."

"Severus Snape? He was a friend of my sister's," said Petunia.

"Indeed? I understand he doesn't make friends," said Griphook. "Well, well, you may have blackmail material with your sister's journals as well as a key to something he desperately wants. Use it well."

"We will never misuse a weapon given to us by an ally," said Dan.

"I like you, Mr. Granger," said Griphook. "You know how to talk to goblins and you have a cunning I admire."

"Thank you," said Dan. "Oh, one last thing. The last matter; Dumbledore set up blood wards at Petunia's house, to protect Harry Potter, and said they could not move. Daisy thinks they could be moved."

Griphook frowned in thought.

"If it's the blood of the relative protecting, there is no reason why they should not be moved. Alternatively a greater protection could be the absorption of Lily Potter's protection to try to awaken magic in her sister, if Miss Daisy Evans is willing to use her own blood too."

"Oh yes! And can Dudley?" asked Daisy. "He's my cousin."

Griphook considered.

"I don't see why not. Even as Miss Granger might be able to open some magic in her parents with a magical adoption. I'd like Daisy to go to St Mungo's first, though; and I will see about having the blood wards moved for you."

"Can I leave details of the property to which we are moving, and ask you to see to the conveyancing as well?" asked Petunia. "That way, Dumbledore is less likely to find where we have gone."

"Certainly. Will the heir also authorise calling the Potter elves to organise the move?"

"Elves?" asked Daisy.

"Oh yes, the Potter family has several elves. They will need to bond to you," said Griphook.

"Isn't that slavery?" demanded Hermione.

"Not at all, Miss Granger," said Griphook. "Without wizarding magic, elves die. Some wizards treat them as slaves, however, which is wrong, but good wizards treat them as lesser members of the family. Lady Lily Potter was very particular. Miss Evans, you must call the Potter head elf, touching your ring as you do, which will be with you shortly."

Indeed, at that moment a goblin came in with a couple of small boxes. Griphook rolled his eyes and snarled something in gobbledigook. The goblin darted off, and returned with two wands.

"These are dedicated wands," said Griphook. "This one will enlarge and reduce packages magically; the other will permit you access to places like Diagon Alley. Put on the ring, Miss Evans." He opened one box which held a ring. Daisy cautiously lifted it out, and as directed slid it on the forefinger of her right hand. It shrank to her size.

"Will it grow with her?" asked Petunia.

"Yes, always," said Griphook. "Now tap it and call for the Potter head elf."

Daisy did so, and a liveried elf appeared, to the startlement of all but Griphook.

"Where is Master Harry?" demanded the elf.

"I didn't like being Harry so I became Daisy," said Daisy. The elf peered.

"You looks like Mistress Lily," he said.

"I wanted to," said Daisy. "I need to meet everyone to ... to bond?"

Four other elves appeared, and with instructions from Denny, the head elf, Daisy bonded with each. They looked very relieved.

"Our magics were slipping, Master ... Miss Daisy," said Denny. "Why has you not come home to Potter Manor to bond with us?"

"There's a Potter Manor?" asked Petunia.

"Is it Mistress Daisy's wish that I answer and obey this one?" asked Denny.

"Oh, yes," said Daisy. "We didn't know we were allowed to live anywhere else."

"Please come with us to our old home ready to move to our new," said Petunia. "Dear me, it hasn't got enough rooms for you all."

"We will find room for ourselves," said Denny, firmly.

"Can they have access to the trust fund?" asked Petunia.

"Yes, if you give it," said Griphook.

"Good; they will find it easier to buy things like wizarding clothes for us so we don't stand out, and books if we find we need one," said Petunia. "If they can pop from anywhere to anywhere like that."

"Elves is good at fetching and carrying," said Denny.

"Can you take passengers?" asked Dan.

"Oh yes, if Miss Daisy says we may."

"Please consider the Grangers to be my family," said Daisy.

"Then perhaps we should go home, and ask you to get the books we put aside in Flourish and Blotts, and take Petunia and Daisy to St Mungo's," said Dan. He was taking the wizarding world in his stride.

"No problem!" said Denny.

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The healer in St Mungo's was horrified that a child's magic should be bound, but ascertained that Daisy had no lasting damage, and had managed to undo a lot of the binding herself. With potions to protect against spattergroit and dragonpox, Denny popped the tired pair back to the Grangers' house to collect Dudley, and then to Privet Drive. Here they proceeded to clean what Petunia had thought she had already cleaned, and produced a chicken supper better than anything Petunia could ever remember eating.

"Always treat your elves well, Daisy," she said. "Elves are wonderful."

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The goblins warded the new house, and the elves carried the stones to the right spots around the property to as not to disrupt the pattern, having already moved the furniture. Petunia drove Dudley and Daisy to their new house, and they settled in. Griphook put Dan in touch with a child of squib parents, who had qualified as a school teacher in the muggle world, and Mafalda Prewett moved in with the Evans family and ran a school for three children which included the customs of the wizarding world and potioneering techniques as well as the usual range of subjects available to muggles. Their physical fitness training was taken on by Dan. A couple of other children of squibs joined them, from the Hitchens family, and a wizarding child who had been bitten by a werewolf. She was a thin, ill child, whose parents were grateful to find people who would accept her despite her affliction.

"When I grow up, Lucy, I'm going to find a cure for werewolves," promised Hermione.

It was a year round before Griphook thought it safe to try a ritual with the ward stones. Dan had met with Ragnok several times, and Ragnok was investigating ways of removing Dumbledore as a trustee of Daisy's vault before she turned eleven.

"Please, Mr. Griphook, if I'm adopting Aunt Petunia and Dudley using blood, can I adopt Uncle Dan and Aunt Emma, if Hermione helps? So we're all family?" asked Daisy. She was still Daisy and had no desire to be Harry.

"I ... I don't know," said Griphook. "It ... yes, it should work. Dan is a member of the Dagworth-Granger family, and technically a squib by descent. It may not work with Emma."

"I'd like to try," said Daisy. "I wish I could adopt you as my uncle, too."

Griphook gasped.

"Would you like me as an uncle?" he asked, seriously. "It will give you some goblin magic, and would make me a member of your family line."

"Oh yes!" said Daisy. "I love you, Uncle Griphook."

It was an odd ceremony. Griphook had spoken seriously to Ragnok, who had given him permission to become a member of the Potter family. Never before in the history of goblin kind had a human voluntarily offered to be a family member of a goblin. That meant that Griphook's new nieces and nephew could be taught goblin fighting techniques and warding skills without it being a breach of the treaty; and arguably, Griphook might consider applying to carry a wand when Daisy had defeated Voldemort. The goblins had a fair idea what the dark lord had done, and with a bit of research had discovered that if it had been a horcrux in Harry Potter, it had died in Vernon Dursley. They did not bother to mention this research to their human allies; it would only have upset them.

And the ceremony drained the blood wards into Petunia and Dudley before a full blood-adoption ceremony by potion and blood sharing, and drained and weak, those participating were glad to be fed pumpkin juice and iced biscuits by the elves. Emma was scarcely more able than a squib, but Dan and Petunia both found themselves quite able with magic, and Dudley managed his first accidental magic in summoning the biscuits he could not be bothered to get up to reach for.

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Albus Dumbledore was away for the weekend, as he often was, and when he came into his office on the Monday morning, he was horrified to see that the wards at 4, Privet Drive had fallen.

He had no idea that the wards had not been at Privet Drive for something more than a year.

He apparated there immediately, but could see nothing untoward. There was no car in the drive, and when he knocked, nobody answered. This was because Mr. Frank Jones and Mr. Peter Belson, who now owned the place, were both at work. Albus broke into the house with magic, unaware that he had tripped several muggle burglar alarms, as the young gay couple who owned the house had a number of valuable antiques, this being their line of business, and he was most surprised when a wail of sirens heralded the arrival of the old bill. Albus was most concerned, there was only one family photograph showing two young men, and photos of Petunia and young Harry were conspicuous by their absence. When it became apparent that the police were about to enter, he apparated away, unaware that in a very short time, his fingerprints would be on record as a thief.

Albus had heard of house swaps for holidays, and wondered if this was what had happened; after all, the wards had not changed at all, so Petunia and her whale could not have moved with the boys.

He went back to Hogwarts, and hastened to the book which recorded those born in 1980. There was no Harry Potter. A few names he did not recognise, obviously a larger number of muggleborn than usual, but maybe Dudley and Daisy Evans were distantly related to Lily Evans. A Dagworth-Granger at long last! That was exciting, but the name Harry James Potter had disappeared. Albus felt a wave of sadness overtake him. The boy was dead. An accident on holiday, perhaps; and he might never find out. Though perhaps the young men who were staying at 4 Privet Drive might know more. He would go back this evening and ask them.

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The young men in Privet Drive were not happy to see some oddly dressed old geezer. They assumed Dumbledore was some kind of user who wanted to blackmail them for their love, and told him to leave in no uncertain manner. Albus, however, managed to legilimens them first, and discovered that they had bought the house a year ago. He found out that they had moved from Brighton, and decided that Petunia must have moved there in a house swap in order to keep the wards up.

He was arrested for accosting a young boy with messy black hair on the sea front, and his fingerprints, when taken, were shown to be those of a known sneak thief. Albus knew better than to try to obliviate too many muggles at once, and learned whilst in custody that any policeman in the country had access to his fingerprints through something called computer files. This was a frightening development, and the sooner Tom could be got out of the way, and muggles properly controlled, the better it would be. He waited until he was alone in his cell to apparate away, having unlocked the door with alohamora to make the muggles think they had left it unlocked. Muggles were stupid enough to forget to lock doors, after all.

He barely made it out before the sergeant arrived, alerted by the electronic alarm on the door. Albus Dumbledore's picture would be in every daily by the morning as a fugitive sneak thief and suspected pervert.

It may be said that the Dagworth-Grangers and Evans families found this highly amusing.

Next up, the school years