Disclaimer: All characters you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1

A Day in the Life of…

When Aunt Luna came to baby-sit, it was always a stressful situation for Ben Ignatius Potter. In fact, most of his younger years had been filled with stories of the odd sort.

He had been scared of the ScalpyNellers under his bed, even though they were merely scavengers and fed on dandruff. It just wasn't something to look forward to, waking up with small, beady eyed creatures shifting greedily through one's hair with a small coin bag in tow. Even though his mother dismissed the story without fail, he couldn't shake the suspicion that it was a ruse. That if such creatures existed, they would surely end up under his bed. Trouble had always found his father, no doubt it would find him, and add up for those times his father had escaped.

So wide-eyed and too embarrassed to tell his parents, he had had sleepless nights for months. Then there was the story of the mole people. One day Aunt Luna swore she looked up and saw a bald, short man taking a turn in the garden. She had run to fetch the camera, and at the sight of her, he shrunk, sprouting fur like mad, and had disappeared into the high grass. She had spent the rest of the afternoon milling about in the grass to catch the mole man for negotiations.

Ben didn't go out for any turns in the garden. They had to be still underground, lurking talking about taking over the land dwellers.

Of course, there were the good stories. The ones about his father and the final battle against Voldemort, his duel with the dragon in mid-air, being chased by fire, the fiendish Death Nibblers in the Department of Mystery…those sorts of stories were of the good kind. It was a mix of salt and rare treats, honestly. Father never talked about his past and yet it seemed everyone in the world knew of it.

But he wasn't a baby anymore. He was nine, mind you. Nine years old and a half, actually He didn't need a baby-sitter, and especially one that made him scared of his socks and his own teeth.

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"Ben, we're about to leave! Where are you?"

On his trainee broom, he zoomed across the field behind the small house in Godric's Hollow, keeping his head low. He had a plan this time. It was a very sophisticated one, if he said so himself. He would simply hide until his Aunt Luna left and his parents would have no choice but to leave the house to himself.

Ben straightened his glasses and found a small, shaded area behind the old memorial for the war. He often spent time here, during those sleepy slow, cat-like days, and traced those names, wondering if he could ever be a hero himself. Now, it was a hide-out, where he kept all his secret treasures. And they would never find him.

It was about time his parents woke up and accepted this declaration as final. His father had faced Voldemort during his first year at Hogwarts.

That's only two and a half years, he thought darkly. Yes, this was where he took his stand.

He screamed when someone tapped him on his shoulder. He tripped, falling face forward and his glasses flew off his face, hitting the stone with some finality. He screamed again.

"Ben!" His father was running across to where he lay sprawled out in the most unmanly condition ever.

"I'm sorry," someone whispered from behind him. His Aunt Luna stood against the memorial with a puzzled look on her face. "I didn't expect for that to happen. Though it does happen sometimes when I touch people."

"It's not your fault, Luna," his father said slowly, looking at Ben with suspicion. Then he looked at the broken spectacles at his feet. Sighing, he bent down and repaired them with his wand. Ben quickly got to his feet, his cheeks burning.

"What was this about then?" his father asked, sternly. "Your mother has been looking for you for half-an hour. You know tonight is very important to us, and-."

"And I didn't stop you from going," he retorted. "I never do. As if I'm going to blow up the house…" he trailed off, remembering who was behind him.

His father let out another sigh. He placed a hand on Ben's back and started to lead him inside, with Aunt Luna trailing after them humming softly under her breath. Ben silently thought that it would be one of those nights. He dragged his heels upon the ground, kicking up as much dust as he could.

His mother greeted them with narrow eyes and pursed lips.

"How did you find him, Luna?" she asked.

"The sunlight was reflecting off his glasses," his Aunt Luna replied, cheerfully. "At first I thought it was a code. But that makes no sense because I think Benjamin wanted to escape detection."

Ben winced at the use of his first name. He saw that she had worn that old necklace again, and it smelled of old butterbeer and onions. He glowered at the floor.

"Oh, really. He didn't do a very good job of it, did he." his mother said. She took his hand and sat him down on the chair…not very gently either.

"Do you know that there are still rogue Death Eaters out there?" she began angrily. "Do you know what goes through my mind when I can't find you?"

His cheeks burned a little more fiercely and his neck was surely red by now. He nodded.

"We'll discuss with him later, Gin. We have got to go," his father said, leaning down and placing his worn glasses on his flushed face. They both left the room, sprinkling of Floo Powder spilling on the rug as they made for the hearth.

"Aren't you going to say a good-bye?" his aunt whispered, looking strangely alarmed.

"No." He crossed his arms.

"Benjamin says good-bye," she called into the parlor. She looked at him. "With love."

He gaped at her. Then he heard the fire flicker, and his parents were gone.

"Why'd you do that?" he demanded.

"You should always say good-bye," she mused. "You're in a very foul temper today, you know. Perhaps you have been bitten by something."

He shrugged.

"What should we do?" she asked, roaming around the kitchen and eying the pans with delight.

He shrugged again.

"Would you like to hear about the Quibbler's new investigation? There's proof that-."

"No," he said, immediately.

"There's no need for you to be rude," she said, ruffled. She rummaged through the pots, bringing some out. "You know, I've heard that children act badly when they are hungry. They're stomachs turn them inside out if they're left empty. It's like one of those raccoons Muggles have. Instant black-holes and vortexes, and I can't imagine-"

Ben laid his head down on the table and closed his eyes. He listened to her mull about the room, and while he was hungry, he was well aware of her cooking from past experience.

"One time I didn't eat but little for weeks. It would have been a wonderful time to be a black hole."

"What happened?" he muttered against the table.

"They were not very kind," she said, simply. "But they never were in that place. I don't think he cared for my story."

She placed a bowl in front of him, and it looked like soup. Perhaps it was, he thought with some small hope. She sat down opposite him, smiling.

"I always look forward to our visits, you know. Work keeps me very busy."

"You and my parents both, then," he said, gloomily.

"But I'd hate to get bored though," she said. "And you are at the school in the village. And…"

Ben looked up, and saw that she was staring into the soup bowl with sudden intensity.

"It appears there is a message in my soup," she muttered, raising an eyebrow. Not knowing quite how to respond, Ben remained silent, after pushing his own bowl away.

"I told him not to contact me here." Aunt Luna pulled back her chair and hurried into the parlor. Ben sat there for a minute, too stunned to move then made to get up.

"Do finish your soup, please."

Unsure of the circumstances of said soup, Ben looked around, assessing the situation. He promptly poured the soup into his Uncle Neville's rare herbivorous plant he had given them for the holidays. Finished, Ben peered around the doorway quietly.

Only to be knocked over by his aunt.

"Something unexpected has happened." He noticed she was talking to her necklace and was more than a little alarmed.

"Oh, he's gone…Benjamin, are you well fed and watered?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "The soup was great."

"Then you can come to work with me," she said. "Since you won't become a parallel dimension."

Aunt Luna grabbed his hand. Soon the kitchen was empty expect for some dirty dishes and a thoroughly full plant.

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