Disclaimer: Don't own HP, but I do own Diana/Grace!

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews and support shown through favorites/follows! I have not abandoned this story. I apologize for how long it took me to reply. I recently graduated from college and had started working full-time + studying for GREs + applying to grad school, so things have been a bit busy for me. But! I will try and make time for this and WoW…and possibly start another story hehe.

'thoughts' are the thoughts of the characters

-thoughts- are the insights and interjections from the Grace part of Diana's personality

"dialogue"

-parseltongue-

Harry is six-years-old at this point in time, so the year is 1986.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Diana awoke with a moan and slapped a hand on the alarm clock to stop that god forsaken noise. 'Ugh…why am I waking up so early on Tuesday? I don't have to go to work today…' Diana glared at the bright red 6:30 on her clock before rolling over to go back to sleep. As she snuggled into her blankets, she felt like she was forgetting something important. Shrugging it off, she fell back asleep.

-POV switch-

A distant, annoying noise roused Harry from his peaceful dreams. It was the sound of Diana's alarm clock. Harry shot up and stumbled from bed. 'Breakfast! I gotta get breakfast ready for Miss Diana!'He knew Miss Diana wasn't like the Dursleys, and that he was Miss Diana's Dudley, but still! Miss Diana bought so much for him and allowed him to eat three whole meals – and snacks! The least she deserved was breakfast.

So Harry peeked into Miss Diana's room and saw that she was still sleeping. Puzzled but slightly relieved, he tiptoed downstairs, wincing with every loud creak of the steps. 'Doesn't she have work this morning? Maybe yesterday was only because he was new and now I gotta work again…' Harry mused. Well, if that's true, Harry resolved to be the best he could be so that Miss Diana could be proud and love him and let him be her Dudley again.

With that thought in mind, Harry continued into the kitchen and –after some trial and error – pulled out the needed cooking equipment and materials and started frying up breakfast.

An hour and a half later, the table was properly set, the food arranged on the table, and no sign that Harry had even cooked. Everything was cleaned and put away where he found it. Harry looked at the spread proudly, sure that Miss Diana would love it and maybe love him too.

He heard a thud from upstairs followed up silence and then a thundering down the stairs, and there was Miss Diana practically flying into the kitchen still in her pajamas looking rumpled and sleepy-eyed and already babbling. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry Harry! I usually sleep in today since I don't work Tuesdays –and did you make all this? Harry! You didn't need to! You should have woken me, that's so dangerous!"

Harry shuffled his feet, eyes welling with tears, and lip trembling. He had upset Miss Diana!

"I'm sorry Miss Diana! I only wanted to make you happy since you bought me so much stuff," he mumbled, looking down. He heard Miss Diana take a deep breath and felt her kneeling before him before he was engulfed in a hug.

"No, no it's okay. I'm sorry for yelling, you didn't deserve that. You did a very good job preparing breakfast. I was just upset because cooking by yourself at your age can be very dangerous. Next time if you want to cook, let me know and we can cook together, okay?" Diana asked gently. Harry nodded, flushed with a warm feeling in his chest. Miss Diana was upset because she was worried about him! No one worried about him ever.

"Now, let's enjoy this wonderful spread you've prepared," Diana announced, lifting Harry into her arms and carrying him to the table. She deposited him in a chair and went to sit in another. "Thank you very much for your hard work, Harry." Harry nodded shyly.

After a few moment of silence broken only by the sound of cutlery on the plates, Diana spoke up, "As I said before, I don't work on Tuesdays nor on Thursdays, so we have today all to ourselves. After we wash up, we can spend some time on your summer work, then have a quick nap, how does that sound?"

"I don't have my summer work with me," Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"That's okay Harry-dear, what school do you go to? I can ask around and see what reading assignments you have and we can improvise."

"I go to St. Gregory's," Harry replied quietly. After all, the Dursleys never cared about his schooling as long as he didn't perform better than Dudley.

"Wonderful, some of my co-workers have children. I will ask them. You're in Year 2, correct?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Great! For now though, hmm…well, what would you like to do Harry? What do you do in your free time?"

'Free time? What free time? I don't get to play like Dudley does. Maybe, she'll let me watch the telly!' "Can we watch the telly, Miss Diana?"

"Of course we can. We'll see what's on. What's your favorite show?"

"I don't really have one. I think Dudley likes Mr. Benn though."

"Well that's okay. I don't watch the telly much to be honest. I mostly read after work before retiring for bed. Do you read much Harry?"

-Shift-

Diana sighed. Trying to establish a connection with a 6-year-old boy who she only met the day previous was more difficult than she had anticipated – even with all the possible truths of his persona and future floating around in her head. That actually made it more difficult! How was she supposed to treat him when she had so many different futures and versions of him imposing upon his present self (if her alternate memories can be trusted…)?

And he was just so skittish and uncertain! He didn't seem to like anything. While she understood that his mentality stemmed from the Dursleys' neglect and deprivation, it certainly didn't make things easier for her. And yes, she realized how selfish she sounded, but really, she just was not prepared to handle a strange 6-year-old boy. Her dreams of fostering or adopting children differed vastly from the reality and she wasn't sure she could handle it.

'But,' she resolved, 'while he is in my care, I will give him the best care I am able.' Diana turned her attention back to Harry, who was on the floor enraptured with the program on the telly, a look of concentration of his face and amazement in his eyes. Diana's resolve hardened. 'Yes, I will take care of him.'

Suddenly, as if triggered by Diana's thoughts and feelings, images bombarded her, flitting through her mind's eye too quickly to process and blurring together. Diana shut her eyes despite knowing that the action would not help. For what seemed a lifetime, Diana felt as if she were drowning in all the images and knowledge flooding her mind when it stopped just as suddenly as it began. She opened her eyes to see Harry still busy with the telly, noting that not even 5 minutes had passed.

And seared into her mind, overlaying the image of the happy 6-year-old lounging on her living room floor, was the image of an older, more weathered Harry broken and bleeding surrounded by a crowd of who she presumed were muggles. And under Harry's body, she glimpsed a child's body, as if Harry had died protecting it. To pour salt into the wound, the muggles surrounding his body were celebrating, spitting upon his corpse and cheering in what looked to be triumph.

Tears pricked Diana's eyes and fury burned in her heart. She could not afford to ignore the possibility of her dreams, of magic, being real. Because if they were and she ignored them, Harry would die a painful death in a fruitless endeavor to save a child's life. Despite the hardship of caring for another being, let alone a skittish, possibly magical 6-year-old child, she would not –could not – allow her vision come to pass.

'Perhaps this weekend Harry and I should explore London…' she mused, ignoring the ache in her head as she watched Harry's enjoyment of a simple and ordinary pleasure.