Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 4

"Unnghh."

James smiled. "Mate, you shouldn't have polished off that bottle of brandy last night."

"Unnghh."

Remus chuckled as James tipped him a wink. This was an exchange that had taken place countless times in their friendship. "You know, when Lily gets back, she's going to have your hide if you spew on the rug."

"Unnghh. Fuck you Prongs. Would you please cast that bloody charm? Where's the goddam porridge?"

James took pity on his best friend. A quick draw of his wand, followed by a muttered incantation while rolling his wand in a tight counter clockwise motion saw Sirius straighten up. Still a bit frowzy, despite the effects of the Sobering charm, Sirius muttered, "Thanks. Where's the porridge?"

Sighing, James turned back to his breakfast. "The porridge is right in front of you Padfoot."

The room was quiet after Sirius' soft, "Oh."

Two cups of tea and a tall glass of cold coffee later, Sirius was in a much more coherent mood. "Where are Lily and the kids?"

"They ran out to get Harry some new clothes. The shite that those fucking Dursleys gave him wasn't worth burning." The glower on James' face became a self-recriminatory scowl, "And they're stopping by the Healer's to see if anything can be done about the malnutrition."

All three men were openly scowling now. After a moment's consideration, Sirius asked, "You guys wanna get drunk?"

James smiled when Remus reproved their friend, "Sirius, it's nine in the morning. You're already hung over, you don't need to be drinking any more booze."

"I dunno, Moony. I think a little hair of the dog is exactly what I need to set me up just right."

James was openly laughing now. He loved it when Sirius baited Remus like this. Both men knew what the other was doing, but enjoyed the back and forth between them. Though James routinely thought of Sirius as his best mate, it was only due to the fact that he'd known the padfooted one longest. In his heart, Sirius and Remus were interchangeable.

Tossing his napkin on the table, James laughed, "Come on you tossers. Moron over there and I need to go to the bank." Hefting an open letter from the table, he explained, "Maturin says there are a few kinks that we need to be present to work out."

.oOo.

Harry was in the dressing room for the seventeenth time since they arrived at the store. Hermione was, in her turn, impressed that Lily had spent five thousand pounds on clothes without blinking. Sure, Hermione's parents were well off, but this kind of wealth begat a way of life that was foreign to her.

There was something else on The Smartest Witch of the Age's mind, though.

"Lily," she began. When the redheaded mother of her boyfriend turned from the shirts the attendant was offering, Hermione glanced at the young woman who was helping them.

Catching the meaning, Lily turned back. "Those look great. Could you please hand them to my son and fetch some trainers in size nine? Thanks."

Lily sat on the couch that's seems to be required outside all changing rooms. Usually, it's packed with husbands, but today, being first thing on a Tuesday, Hermione and Lily had it to themselves.

"What's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking about Sirius' proposition," Hermione began. When Lily's expression sobered, Hermione asked, "It's extremely generous. I'm flattered and honoured that he's offered such a thing to me. At the same time, I feel as if I'm choosing between the magical world and the mundane." Grimacing, she concluded, "I feel as if I'm choosing between being an active witch and having my parents in my life.

"Would it be too much of an imposition to ask how you felt about effectively leaving your family behind?"

Hermione was gladdened when Lily took her hand, a warm smile on the older witch's face. "In a sense, you do have that choice in front of you. However, it's not just because of Sirius' offer." With a serious expression, Lily digressed, "He meant every word he said, you know. He would treat you as a daughter. I believe he already thinks of you that way on some level."

With the hint of a blush, Hermione nodded. Hermione had no aunts or uncles, so her parents were the only experience she'd had with family. She already considered Sirius and Remus to be uncles of a sort and it was a wonderful feeling.

"Back to the topic." Lily's eyes became unfocused as she remembered, "I grew apart from my parents as I got older. Part of it, I suppose is natural. I was growing up, spending ten months a year in Scotland while my parents were in southern England. I changed." Shrugging, she admitted, "It happens. It didn't mean that I loved, or do love them any less, it's just that I didn't belong with them any longer. It was a bit of a shock when I realized that I felt right - I felt like I belonged - in the magical world."

Turning to Hermione with a broad smile, she told her, "I didn't choose James over my parents. I belong with him and him with me. It's the way I want my life to be."

This idea resonated with Hermione. She knew that she and Harry belonged together. Concurrent to that, it had been a wonderful moment during third year when she realized that she felt comfortable, that she truly belonged, in the magical world.

"Thanks, Lily," Hermione whispered. "It means a lot to me that you trust me to tell me this."

Stroking Hermione's hand, Lily replied, "It's not a problem, dear." She hesitated before asking, "Have you reached a decision?"

Hesitantly, Hermione nodded. A small tear escaped her left eye before she admitted, "I have, but I'm afraid. I don't want to leave my parents behind."

Embracing the younger witch, Lily cooed, "You don't have to sweetie. Remember what it says, `He shall leave his parents to cleave to his wife', or something like that? We're supposed to form new families while the old one fades somewhat. Your parents will always be important to you. Even though my parents are gone now, I still love them. It's the natural order of things."

Harry poked his head out of the door, causing both witch's expressions to perk up. About five changings ago, he got over his embarrassment about buying new clothes. Stepping out of the changing room, he asked, "How's this?"

Unconsciously, Hermione licked her lips before husking, "I think it's a bit of alright."

The peals of laughter from Lily combined with the hungry expression on her boyfriend's face, brought The Smartest Witch of the Age back to her surroundings. Blinking in her astonishment at her behaviour, Hermione realized she'd been undressing her boyfriend with her eyes in front of his mother. Fortunately, said mother had an excellent sense of humour.

"Now, now," Lily giggled. "None of that." Turning to the attendant, she told the girl, "We'll take that outfit as well. How are we doing on the shoes?"

.oOo.

"What do you want?" the goblin snarled.

James smiled, "I do so love goblins. No beating around the bush. How are you Asscrack?"

Sirius snickered as Remus smilingly shook his head.

The goblin peered at James before huffing, "Richmond. Thought you were dead. Raised a glass that day. You know damn good and well that my name is Ashcraik."

Waving a nonchalant hand at the teller, James breezily replied, "You know I'm horrible with names. Blackmoor and I were told we needed to be here to settle some details." The hanging question was unsaid.

Nodding, Ashcraik hopped off his teller's seat, beckoning the humans to follow him.

"He loves me," James muttered through a smile. "He must've really missed me."

"He hates your guts but admires your courage," Remus countered.

With a hurt expression, James held the door for his compatriots. "You wound me, my dear Moony. I firmly believe Asscrack loves me."

"ASHCRAIK!" came the shout from further up the hallway. Sirius snickered again.

Eventually, they were shown into an elegantly apportioned conference room where Stephen Maturin was waiting for them with a well dressed goblin. Standing, the solicitor greeted them, "My Lords, Mr Lupin. Shall we?" he gestured to the table where a few stacks of parchment awaited them.

Remus slinked off to the side, pulling a shrunken book from his pocket as he did so. Sirius groaned as he sat next to James. Both Earls looked at the piles in front of them. In a comically unplanned moment, both men swapped their piles with the other."

"Lord Blackmoor, the bulk of your forms deal with your accession to your position, the vesture of title and assuming control of the Black Family trust. My assistant shall walk you through the forms." Turning to the immensely tall and broad shouldered man who stood by the wall, Maturin commanded, "Padeen, help his lordship through the forms."

Turning to James, Maturin scowled. "My Lord Richmond, your case is somewhat more delicate and complex."

"You're dead," the goblin belched.

"Maybe not so complex after all," Maturin winced.

Puzzled, James asked, "What do you mean I'm dead?"

"You were ruled as deceased by the Ministry, sir," Maturin told the visibly angering James.

"Yes, but that moron of a Headmaster told me that my will was never opened, much less probated."

Snorting the still unnamed goblin snarked, "And the Headmaster of Hogwarts means what here?"

Smiling again, James repeated his earlier declaration. "I really like goblins. What do we do?"

"The easiest course of action is to probate your will, which I assume leaves everything to Lord Potter?" Maturin delicately reinserted himself into the discussion.

James nodded, "With some philanthropic bequests, but, yes, the bulk goes to our son."

Turning to the goblin, Maturin gestured, "Our esteemed colleague is proposing that we finalize the probate of your will. It was never finalized, as Lord Potter never replied to any of the goblin requests for his presence. Lord Potter will then gift the fortune back to you."

"At what cost?" James asked, his gaze switching from his solicitor to the smug goblin. He chose to ignore, for now, the implication that someone was tampering with his son's mail.

"No cost at all, my Lord," the anonymous banker announced.

Sceptical, James rebutted, "Everything has a cost, especially moving this much money around."

"Actually, not one galleon will leave the Potter vaults, except the bequests. We'll use that as a tax write off for the year. We'll bring Lord Potter in to the bank and in one signing session, we'll execute the plan."

"My hand is cramping thinking about it." Narrowing his eyes at the goblin, he asked, "What's your name?"

With a shark like grin, the goblin replied, "Fahgmahther, and don't do it. I know what you've done to Ashcraik, Shighape and Bongholio so don't go messing with my name, human."

The contortions on James' face gave away the difficulty he was having in holding in the bon mot, but eventually, his will won out. "I would never do that. So, I repeat, what's in it for the goblin nation?"

"You'll owe us a favour."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Usually our fees would top out around half a million galleons for a transaction of this size. We're doing it for free."

With a softness that defied the ferocity of his tone, James replied, "You can't buy me. Now or ever and I don't like the implication that you think you can. Take your half million galleons and stuff them up your arse." Turning to the solicitor, he stood, "We'll find a different way."

"Listen you walking roast," the goblin barked, "Your favour will be called in by asking for some public relations work by you and your son."

Frowning, James asked, "That's it?"

With as incredulous an expression that was possible for a goblin, Fahgmahther gibed, "Didn't you read the Prophet today? You and your wife are now `The Parents Who Lived'. Between you and your son, you're about as close to superstars as exist in Britain today. Couple that with your son's forced participation in Dumbledore's lunatic Circus Maximus, and you've got an excellent opportunity to say some positive words for the goblin nation."

"To what end?"

Leaning forward, Fahgmahther snarled, "We want a voice on your Wizengamot and we want a vote."

Whistling, James leaned back in his chair. Sirius had stopped signing minutes before while Remus' book was forgotten on a side table. "That's a tall order," James opined.

"It is. But not unreasonable," Fahgmahther countered in a sensible tone before relaxing into his own chair.

A smile playing on the corner of his mouth, James asked, "Who are you Fahgmahther? I mean, everyone knows that Ragnok is the Head of the Great Goblin Horde, but who are you?"

Absently picking at his claws, Fahgmahther replied, "Everyone knows that Ragnok is the Head of the Horde? Hmm, sounds like hearsay to me."

Sirius barked a laugh while James openly smiled. "You're good, Fahgmahther. I like you." Turning to his smaller pile of forms, James signed quickly. As one they all rose to leave once he was done. James made an appointment for the next day for the legal fiction of over a billion galleon fortune changing hands twice.

"Oh, Maturin," James said with a forced casualness. "How goes the other issues?"

With a smug smile, the Irish solicitor replied, "His Lordship has agreed and we merely await the bureaucratic wheels to turn."

"Excellent." James' smile was remarkably shark-like.

Sirius took the moment to hand the solicitor a folded slip of parchment. It was best to refrain from speaking of the topic prior to its execution. "We've yet to finalize the details," Sirius explained, "But get the forms and whatnot moving. I want to be ready to move on this soon."

Maturin pursed his lips as he read. Handing the slip to his assistant as the big man lumbered by, he told Sirius, "It shall be done, sir. I estimate two days to make the appropriate preparations..

Adieus were bid by all as the humans made their way to the door. They were met by the mysterious goblin.

"I've been told you were an irreverent man, my Lord," Fahgmahther grinned as they all made their goodbyes. "I'm glad to see that you are."

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you Fahgmahther. May your enemies be crushed under your heel."

Fahgmahther gave a short bow to acknowledge the complement. "And may you slay your enemies while hearing the lamentations of their women."

James grinned before turning to leave the room. He flung his parting shot over his shoulder, "You're a different one, Fuckyourmother."

Growling, the goblin muttered, "I knew he'd do it. I knew it." The last thing he heard as the fearsome threesome left the bank was Sirius' snickering.

.oOo.

As Lady Richmond was being examined by the Healer for any abnormalities resulting from her extended stay outside time, Healer Smythe's nurse sat in the waiting room with the famous Boy-Who-Lived and a teenaged, girl; his girlfriend if the distance between the two was any indication. They were alone while she was steadily working through a mountain of insurance forms.

The teenaged girl was leaning on her boyfriend as she rested her head on his shoulder. The soft smile on his face as he rested his eyes made the nurse at the desk smile.

"How're you doing?" she heard The Boy-Who-Lived ask.

The bushy haired girl replied, "Right now, I'm brilliant."

As she was wont to do in these situations, Nurse Agatha Harkness stole a glance at her worn wedding ring. She was an incurable romantic, despite having buried her man three years beforehand. Regardless of that, she loved him still.

"That's good," The Boy-Who-Lived replied. "But what about…all the other stuff. I feel really bad about what happened yesterday."

The girl, who Agatha assumed must be his girlfriend, snuggled deeper into him causing the young man to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Don't feel bad. It's not your fault that Skeeter's a bint any more than that Heir of Slytherin nonsense during second year was your fault. In both cases, it was a bunch of pitiful people who couldn't mind their own business."

The last, spat a bit waspishly from young Harry Potter's girlfriend, jabbed a bit too close to home for Agatha. Her eavesdropping became more surreptitious.

He turned to his paramour without opening his eyes. Softly, he placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Almost too soft to hear, the girl whispered, "I love you."

"Love you too," he replied softly.

"What are going to do at school?" he asked after a long minute.

"About what?" she asked, a hint of trepidation in her voice. Agatha's eyebrows furrowed. Apparently, all was not well in paradise.

"Well, the tournament and …other things are going to make things dangerous for you."

She jabbed him in the side. Now she sat up, opening her eyes. "Don't," she ordered forcefully. "Don't take away my choice."

Agatha was almost taken aback as much as The Boy-Who-Lived. Confused as to what was being referenced, Agatha could tell it was important. He recoiled under the strength in the girl's words. After he considered for a second, he nodded, his head drooping.

Insanely curious, Agatha ignored the two owls who were trying to drop off their packages. Paying close attention, she barely heard him tell his girlfriend, "I can't lose you Hermione. My parents, Sirius, Moony, any of them I can lose and still go on."

He looked up with a teary expression that tore at Agatha's heartstrings, "I can't go on without you. You've always been there. You've been my best friend since I could honestly say that I've had friends. I need you. I've always needed you, but I now realize just how much I need you."

The young witch leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her boyfriend's lips. "I always shall be with you. Remember, I promised?"

He smiled faintly as he remembered. Closing his eyes, Agatha saw that it was his turn to lean into her for support and comfort.

Had Agatha not been watching the teens and only heard the exchange, she would have sworn that it was a young married couple talking, not two teenagers. The entire exchange struck Agatha as immensely different from any she'd seen among her own children or when she herself was a teen. These two had the beginnings of an adult relationship and it was heart-warming for the old witch. Unsure as to why, it just made the eighty year old witch feel good about life. Watching the young lovers, she felt that all would be right in the world, so long as those two loved each other.

As covertly as possible, she tried wiping away the unbidden tears. The hand settling on her shoulder caused her to turn in surprise. She saw young Harry's mother standing over her shoulder, a tear of her own on her pale cheek.

"They make me feel strong," the Lady Richmond told the nurse.

Nodding, Agatha concurred. "I'd swear they were in their thirties with a babe of their own, not teens."

Lily's face crinkled as she smiled, "They will be soon enough Agatha. I'll make sure they bring their children here for Healer Smythe to check on them."

Patting the hand on her shoulder before it was withdrawn, Agatha replied, "You do that, milady. It'd make this old witch mighty happy to see those two grow and blossom even more."

As the teens trudged over to the Healer's door, Lily turned to show them the way to the back. Before they left, Lily muttered, "I'll be sure of it."

.oOo.

Lily insisted that Hermione accompany her and Harry into the examining room. A bit uncomfortable, the bushy haired witch Gryffindor'd up and followed her boyfriend into the sterile room.

Harry hopped up on the examination table while Lily and Hermione sat on the cheap chairs. It seemed to Hermione that even in the magical world, the healers had the same office goods supplier.

A sandy haired, rotund wizard rolled into the room a minute later. With a "Hullo, hullo," all around, he moved to Harry.

Healer Smythe's back was to her, but Hermione could tell by Harry's expression that the first place the man looked was at Harry's scar. She gave her beau a smile while shaking her head, hoping to encourage his forbearance.

After the usual ears, nose and throat visual inspection, Smythe cast a long incantation diagnostic spell, finishing with a bit of flair while pointing at a blank scroll of parchment.

"Now we wait," the jovial healer announced before tunelessly humming a song. Seconds later, script began to form on the parchment. Hermione's expected reaction by the healer was immediate.

He frowned.

Then he furrowed his brow.

Finally, he began darting his eyes from the slowly withdrawing Harry to the still scribbling parchment.

With gravity, Smythe set the parchment on the table. He caught Lily's gaze before cutting his eyes to Hermione. The teenaged witch bowed her head, hoping Lily would allow her to stay for what was to come. She had a feeling that Harry would need her.

Lily was obviously of the same mind as she told Smythe, "She can stay. Hermione's completely in our trust."

With a sigh, Smythe replied, "Very well. The diagnostic is very disturbing. Mr Potter, I'd ask you if you would please remove your shirt?"

Harry's wild eyes bounced from the healer, to his mother before settling on Hermione. Every aspect of his being screamed to escape. His breathing picked up to a pant, his hands clenched while he kept scanning for an exit route.

Slowly, Hermione rose from her seat. Catching Harry's gaze, she whispered, "I love you Harry. Your mum loves you. We all love you, nothing will ever change that." She kept repeating herself as she approached him. By the time her hand caressed his shoulder, he was calm.

As he looked deep into her eyes, Hermione could feel the questions emanating from him: Will it be alright? Will I get hurt?

So low that the others wouldn't hear, Hermione told him, "I'll never leave you. Never." Putting her mouth next to his ear, she voiced her hope in an effort to distract him, "I plan on being the mother of your children. The lady of your house and the wife you've always wanted. I'll never, ever leave you."

With a shuddering breath, he nodded. Hermione took a step back, allowing Harry to shed his covering. His eyes were riveted on hers as he unbuttoned the shirt. Hermione could tell that he was too afraid to meet his mother's gaze. Would he see anger? Pity? Fear? Disgust? Or worst of all, would he see approval?

The healer moved behind Harry when the pale blue shirt fell to the floor. The whisper of the cotton on the tile was the only sound in the room. In her peripheral vision, she saw the healer examine her boyfriend. His eyes closing in pain, the healer nodded in acceptance of what his eyes were unwilling to see.

She saw Smythe turn to Lily, catching her gaze. Hermione knew that Harry needed to face his mother; the time for avoidance was over. In an attempt to force him to look at her, she turned to see the redheaded witch, trying to drag his attention with her gaze. Mutely, Lily was slowly shaking her head in an unspoken attempt to deny what she'd feared. Her familiar green eyes were wide as tears streamed down her face.

In a flash of insight, Hermione could tell that Lily must have suspected that Harry had been abused. Her reaction was recognition that the only thing the healer was inspecting must have been the webbed scars that the flogged bear ever after.

Glancing from mother to son, she saw Harry relax infinitesimally. Her reaction must have reassured him that he wouldn't be rejected outright. Lily cocked her head to the side, an unspoken query. May I look?

"I need you to look."

Turning back, Hermione saw that Harry was looking at her. Surprised, she realized that Harry wanted her to look on his scars as well. Her stomach rebelled and the pooling tears overflowed. "I don't know if I can," she whispered through her sobs.

"I understand. But we need to do this," he replied.

Confused as to this turnabout in his attitude from caged animal to fount of wisdom, Hermione merely accepted it as fact. Together, she and Lily circled around the examination table. As one, their breath caught when they saw the full extent of the damage.

Hermione's vision went black as the floor rushed up to meet her.

.oOo.

"James, get Sirius and Remus."

Looking up from the book he was reading, James was concerned to see the tearstained face of his wife. Bouncing to his feet, he moved to her side. As he tried to gather her into his arms, she shrieked, "Just get them now!"

Wide eyed, he backed away, "Ok love. I'll get them right now." With a deft movement of his wand, he cast a familiar Communication charm. It was a spell that Remus had crafted in their seventh year so the friends could call each other to their location. Seconds later, he heard pounding feet as his mates ran to join the Potters.

"They're on the way, love. What's going on?"

Now Lily collapsed into James arms. As Remus and Padfoot bounded in the door, breathless from running to join James, Lily moaned, "It's Harry."

Morphing back to his human shape, Sirius growled, "What about him?" Remus closed the friends, his eyes narrowing.

"His back…"

James choked back a cry, as he immediately knew what Lily was talking about. His wife had shared with him her fears about Harry's upbringing. It took Remus a moment longer to understand to what Lily was referring.

"His back? But…oh. Oh no. No, no, no, no. Not Little One. They didn't!" He was shouting by the end while Sirius just slumped to the floor, devastated.

Falling to his knees, the reserved man sobbed. As an automaton, Sirius moved to Moony's side, holding him in the loosest of embraces.

"They're going to die."

James was surprised. He'd expected Sirius or even Lily to pronounce the fate of his sister and brother in law. Remus had always been the quiet one who counselled patience and tolerance. Never did he expect such a swift and violent judgement from Moony. Looking closely, James saw more than a hint of amber in the colouring of his friend's eyes. The Wolf was moving to the fore of his friend's personality.

Furious, Remus stood. Shaking off Sirius, he demanded of Lily, "Can you take us there?"

Her expression hard, she nodded. Vengeance burning him up from the inside, James turned to his wife to obtain the location of the Dursleys. In the corner of his eye, he saw Remus and Sirius straightening up. However, from behind him, he heard, "Wait."

Turning, he saw a pale faced Harry with his arm around his girlfriend. "Wait, don't kill them."

Incredulous, James stared. Every fibre of his being demanded blood for blood, pain for pain. Too overwhelmed with guilt, pain and rage, he could only watch Remus bark, "They deserve to die."

"Like Peter?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Sirius hissed. "Exactly like Peter."

Finding his voice, James growled, "Harry what they owe you can only be paid…" but he was interrupted by the shout of his son.

"YOU ALL OWE ME!" Panting hard, he leaned on his silent girlfriend. "None of you were there when I was tied to the bannister on my fifth birthday while Vernon whipped me bloody. None of you were there when Petunia forced me to crawl through the roses for tracking mud into the house. None of you were there when days went by with no food or water. Don't tell me what you're going to do because of what happened to ME!"

The adults were shocked into sober silence. Silent tears flooded Harry's face as he slowly broke down into soft sobs. The days since his parents' return had been full of turmoil. Issues and events long past were being dredged up to be re-examined in new light. With all the emotional churn, the old pain was at the fore and it was overwhelming for the teen. Hermione's soft chant of, "I've got you, Harry. I'm here," was the only other sound in the room until Sirius fell to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.

Remus followed him, holding his friend as tears of his own dripped off the end of his nose. Like a magnet, James was pulled to his son. Through his own tears, he huskily asked, "May I?"

Harry's understanding of his Dad's meaning was clear as he threw himself into his father's arms. Over his son's shoulder, James saw Lily approach Hermione. The young witch had her hand over her mouth as she tried to supress her sobs.

Harry had been hurt so badly. They all felt the punishing blows of guilt and shame for their failures. Failures in action, of trust in others and of planning. In their love and caring for the young man, they were acutely aware of their failures.

So much pain.

So many wounded.

So many casualties, years after the last spells were cast.

They were the Last Casualties of the Blood War of Voldemort and still they suffered.

But now, they were healing. Albus Dumbledore was many unpleasant things, but he was right about one thing. Love is the most powerful thing in the world.

.oOo.

"I won't kill them, but they have earned retribution," James announced a while later.

The family had calmed, eventually sitting to a spontaneous tea. Hermione had commented that, "Rain or shine, it's always time for tea in Britain."

"What's on your mind?" Sirius asked with narrowed eyes.

Lily sighed, "As much as I'd like to Crucify my sister into insanity, Healer Smythe will inform the Aurors about everything tomorrow. By sundown, the Dursley family will be in Azkaban."

"Not good enough," Sirius growled. Harry pondered that Sirius was the only one present who could honestly make that judgement.

"I need to check the grimoire, but if I remember correctly, there's just the ticket there."

James caught his son's eye, "Come on. You need to see this."

Gently disentangling himself from his girlfriend's embrace, he gave her a soft kiss before leaving. With all the emotional outpouring over the previous few days, he felt no embarrassment about the minor sign of affection for his Hermione.

Catching up to his striding Father, Harry asked, "What's going on Dad?"

James paused as he pursed his lips in thought. Harry waited as patiently as he could until James explained, "All magical families have secrets. Mainly, those secrets are spells crafted by the family, for the family." With a deliberate look, he added, "There are also secrets about the family which are recorded in the grimoire." Things that you can't tell Hermione until after you marry her." Harry blushed, but saw quickly that his father wasn't teasing; he was deadly serious.

Turning into the library, they headed to the back corner. Harry saw an old desk that was scarred with age, but nothing else was on it. As they approached, Harry's father told him, "Only the head of the family or the heir can access the book. Once removed from its stand, any Potter by birth or marriage can read it, but no other."

The tingling of magic crossed over Harry's scalp as he closed the old desk. Slowly, a gold stand was revealed, on which was a huge book. Nearly two feet long, the book was securely bound with iron hinges on its heavy leather binding. Reading the name on the cover, Harry turned to his Dad in confusion. "Gryffindor?"

With a solemn nod, James approached the book. Opening it to the front, he read aloud to his son, "On this day, in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand and Forty One, I have wed my beloved Aine Potter. My gift to her and our descendants is this grimoire to replace that which was destroyed by the enemies of my beloved's family. As I have no other surviving relations, I have given myself over wholly to Aine's family who has welcomed me into their warm bosom. May our Lord watch over and protect them as we beseech Him to pour out his best blessings over all.

"Given by my hand at the home of the Potters, Rowan Hill."

James set the book back on the stand as he finished, "It's signed `Godric'."

Floored, Harry sank into the chair next to the table. Vaguely he heard his father flipping pages as he searched for a spell. The focus of Harry's attention was on something Dumbledore had told him a few years before after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco. "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," the old man had declared as The Boy-Who-Lived stared at Gryffindor's sword.

"I thought he'd been speaking metaphorically," Harry mumbled.

"Hmmm?" James asked.

After explaining the reference, Harry asked, "Does the grimoire discuss the sword?"

Shaking his head, "I don't think so. Godric made the initial dedication and a dozen or so spells and potions. After that, it's all Potters."

"What does it mean?" asked Harry.

Confused, James didn't reply besides a frown.

"Do we, like, own Hogwarts or something?"

Chuckling, James replied, "No. We do have a seat on the board of governors, though. I don't think that has anything to do with our illustrious forbearer, though. I think it has more to do with the number of zeros in our vault balance."

A grim smile crossed his Dad's familiar features, "But I found what I was looking for. Let's get back."

Grabbing his father by the arm, Harry told him, "Dad, don't do anything that will get you in to trouble."

A cocky smile on his young face, James protested, "I never get…"

Interrupting his father, Harry scowled. "I need you and Mum here, not in Azkaban. You promised me you'd be here for me from now on."

Deflating, James nodded. "We won't get into trouble. Even if the Aurors find the spell, they'd never know what it does." Jabbing a thumb at the now closed tome, James reminded his son, "Family secrets, right?"

Nodding apprehensively, Harry acquiesced. He had a hard time trusting adults. In fact, upon reflection, he had to admit that he didn't trust any adults. He sort of trusted his parents, but not really. Not yet, as they hadn't earned his trust. This was his father's first chance to earn his son's trust.

Matters speeded up. Before Harry knew what was going on, his Dad had created a portkey to Surrey around which the family had gathered. All looked to Harry for permission to leave. By unspoken consensus, they all agreed that it was Harry's right to call off the whole thing.

Looking around, Harry realised that the whole family needed this closure. As long as no one got in trouble, Harry didn't have a problem...

Turning to his girlfriend, he tried to get a read on her opinion. As he was her font of courage, she was his conscience. Harry didn't think he could live with her having a bad opinion of him for having condoned whatever his parents had in mind. More than anyone, he was surprised to see the hard expression on her face. Her determination to see a measure of justice, or even punishment, was what pushed him over the edge.

Turning to his Dad, he told him, "Let's get this over with."

.oOo.

Hermione was expecting a home much more evil. Instead, she was transported to a house in middle class suburbia. The houses weren't dripping with blood. Screams didn't reverberate from the walls of the houses nor were their open graves in the front gardens.

Shaking her head at her internal distraction, she focused on their intent. Harry's hand firmly in her own, she followed James and Lily up the path to the front door. Vaguely, she was aware that Sirius and Remus were casting a series of charms on the house. Glancing over at Remus, the usually sober, gentle man had an expression of malice and borderline hate that surprised her. He noticed her watching him, so he mumbled, "Notice Me Not."

Nodding her understanding of the spell Padfoot and Moony were weaving, she stopped behind Lily. James turned to his wife, "You ready for this?"

Hermione couldn't see the auburn haired witch's expression, but by the silent reply, she could imagine the look of resolution on Lily's face.

With a sharp movement, James reached out to rap the door knocker a staccato rap-rap-rap.

"Who the hell is that?" Hermione heard a male voice ask from inside the house. Her lip curled in anger as she realized it must be the infernal Vernon Dursley. The man who whipped my Harry, she reminded herself.

The clackety-clack of a woman wearing high heels approached the door. The tension building in Hermione blinded her to all but the plain blue door in front of her. Her body coiled for action, she didn't notice that her nostrils were wide, her breath deep. All were physical preparations for a fight. Her natural instincts were preparing her body for the attack she so desperately craved. The love of her life had been brutalized by those behind this drab blue door. She screamed silently to rend and tear, to have justice for Harry. To have retribution. Craving the vengeance for which her body screamed, she waited.

The door opened.

The woman who opened the door was laughable. Incredibly homely, the housewife was overly thin with a ridiculously long neck. Her designer dress and pearls were ludicrously out of place, as was her perfectly coiffed blonde hair.

Hermione could tell that Petunia Dursley immediately recognized her sister. "No…no…you're dead. YOU'RE DEAD! STAY AWAY! YOU'RE DEAD!" the woman shouted as she backed into the house, stumbling over her three inch heels.

James and Lily shadowed the panicking woman. Behind them, Harry and Hermione followed. Feeling something in her hand, she looked down to see her vine wood and dragon heartstring wand held in a casting grip.

Deciding to get a measure of control over herself, Hermione holstered her wand. A glance at Harry revealed resignation on his face. She had been expecting anger. She'd even been preparing herself in case he was excited to see his tormentors punished. It was an unlikely situation, as she knew him to be a better person than that, but he'd only be human to want to see them hurt as he'd been hurt.

"Who the bloody hell…NO! Get out of my house you Freaks! OUT! NOW!"

The first spell was cast by Sirius. The Silencing spell made the event much less boisterous for all. Remus' Body Bind, caused Vernon, Petunia and the heretofore silent Dudley to crash to the floor, immobile.

"Hello, Petunia," greeted Lily in a low, ferocious tone. "Didn't believe you'd ever see me again, did you? I expect not, else you wouldn't have tortured my son."

In a surprisingly cruel voice that Hermione never thought she'd hear from Harry's father, James told the assembled Dursleys, "I'd love to inflict pain on you for hours because of what you've done to my son. You'll be spared your deserved fate only because he asked me to refrain from killing you." The eyes of the Dursleys cut to the stone faced Harry, but he didn't react.

"You shall remember everything, and yet nothing," James told the stricken muggles. "First, I'm going to cast a spell on you so that you all relive every moment of pain that you've visited on my son - but you'll do it from his perspective. You shall feel and live each moment seven times seventy for every occurrence of pain that you visited upon my son." Half turning to Lily, he finished, "Then Lily will remove the memory of us being here. You'll suffer, most likely for the rest of your life, but never know why."

Hermione strode forward, "I hate you. You hurt my Harry when you should have cared for him. You spat on him when you should have loved him. You're animals and deserve much worse than this, but have no fear. The Aurors will be here tomorrow. Tomorrow, you'll go to Azkaban to meet the Dementors." There was a flash of understanding and fear in Petunia's eyes, but no more than a flash.

Remus strode boldly up to the prone family. With his deliberate strides, Hermione was afraid that the lycanthrope had lost control of himself. She knew that he'd been struggling with his rage since he found out about Harry's abuse. Drawing her wand, she waited to see if she'd need to immobilize Remus for his own sake. She knew the kind hearted man well enough to know that he'd regret lashing out at these people.

Standing over Petunia, he spat in her face. Scowling, he turned to Vernon to repeat the action. To Dudley, he muttered, "You're not worth my spit," as he walked away. He didn't stop as he made his way out the front, the door banging on the hinges as he left.

Sirius walked up to Vernon. Squatting on his haunches, he stared into the man's eyes for a full minute. It must have been an interminable sixty seconds as those dead Azkaban eyes bored into his petrified piggy eyes. Abruptly standing, Sirius kicked Vernon in the head. His face contorting in anger and rage, Sirius visibly forced restraint on his actions. Hermione could tell that he wanted to beat the fat man to a bloody mess, instead he turned on his heel, leaving behind a sweating Dudley.

An acrid smell assaulted Hermione's nostrils. Turning to Petunia, she saw that the woman had pissed herself. Snorting in dark humour, she turned to Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived was wearing a sad expression. With a solemn voice, he told his aunt and uncle, "I just wanted you to love me a little. Not a lot, just a little."

James took Harry's words as his cue. In a slow chant he used large wand movements to weave a tapestry of magic in the air. Lily, Harry and Hermione took a step back as the glowing yellow energy pulsed and coalesced in the air. With a shout, he brought his wand down in a sharp movement.

The block of magic slammed into the immobile Dursleys, wrapping them in its clutches. A movement in her peripheral vision showed Hermione that Lily was releasing her relatives from their bindings. All three relaxed for a short moment before it began. Forcing its way into their bodies, the magic of James' curse began to work. The three muggles screamed in pain as their punishment began.

Tears ran down their faces as they sobbed in agony.

"No, no, please stop," begged Vernon.

"I'm sorry, please don't," wept Petunia.

"No, no, please, no more," moaned Dudley.

Softly, Lily incanted, "Obliviate." It was time to leave.

.oOo.

Slowly, Harry woke. The night had ended in a blur. When the portkey home dropped its riders in the entry hall, it seemed that everyone was too emotionally worn out to say anything. One by one, the family drifted off to his or her rooms. Lily had given her son a hug before she kissed the crown of his head. She parted with a long look at Hermione and a soft, "Love you," to her son.

Shortly afterwards, Harry found out the meaning behind the long look.

Arriving back in his room, he sat on his bed in a bit of a stupor. A few minutes later, a nightshirt clad Hermione slipped into his room. Padding up to him, she whispered, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Tugging him upright, she pulled at his shirt, "Go get cleaned up. I'll wait here."

Obediently, he trudged to the en suite bathroom for the usual brush, flush and wash. Ten minutes later, he stumbled back into his room.

Emotionally, he felt like a limp dishrag. His emotions had been through the ringer. First, he'd had to admit the truth of the abuse he'd suffered as a child. He knew that Hermione had sussed out the truth based on his hints and innuendo from the end of the previous year. While grateful that someone knew, he'd still not actually had to tell anyone. The Healer's inspection had ended that emotional shield. She'd been there for him to give him the hope and courage he'd needed to admit what the others already knew.

What would he do without Hermione? She was his rock, his anchor, his…his everything.

Confronting the Dursleys had been strangely anticlimactic. He'd expected raging denunciations coupled with witty and sarcastic verbal jabs. Instead, he'd seen three pathetic people lying on the floor, one of them soaked in her own urine. It seemed strangely fitting that his final experiences with his aunt and uncle was just as dissatisfying as the rest of his life with them.

Like an empty glass, he was exhausted. Rolling back into his room, he paused in surprise when he saw Hermione waiting for him while in his bed.

"You'll need me tonight and to be honest, I need my best friend, too," she announced. With a tired smile, he cocked an eyebrow at her. "We're not doing that, so get your mind out of the gutter," she mock scolded him with a hint of a smile.

Tossing his shirt on the chair, he slipped into bed next to his girlfriend. As soon as he settled, she scooted over to him, snuggling up to his side. Without even a goodnight kiss, he muttered, "'Night," as he was falling asleep.

Based on his position when he awoke, he hadn't moved all night. Neither had she. Unable to stop his smile, he grinned like a loon as he buried his face in his girlfriend's hair. The soothing effect of her presence had allowed him to sleep better than he'd ever done. He decided right then that waking with her next to him was now his favourite activity, one he'd try to repeat as often as he could.

He felt her stir. His grin widened as she hummed her good morning. Her soft, small hands roamed over his chest as she woke. "Good morning," he greeted in a low voice.

"How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"Wonderfully. I've never slept so well. You?"

After placing a soft kiss on his chest, she told him, "It's an experience I intend on perfecting with repeated practice."

"Oh really?" he teased.

Squeezing him tightly, she replied, "Most definitely. But right now, I really need the loo."

After one more squeeze, she bounded out of bed to head to the WC. Harry watched her go, the early morning light giving him the hint of her green knickers. With a hint of the Marauders' influence, he called out, "Green?"

Impishly, she flipped up the tail of her shirt, flashing him a fine view of her posterior.

"Yep, most definitely green," he called to her laughter. Ten minutes later, they changed places. "What's on the schedule today?" he asked.

"You and your parents are heading to Gringotts to fix your inheritance situation," he nodded as he remembered his Dad explaining the situation the previous day. "I'm going to head to my parents' house with Sirius to talk about the magical protection situation."

With affected casualness, he asked her, "You're going to do it then?"

Worming her way into his arms, she gave him a soft kiss. "Based on everything I've read and talked about with your Mum and Sirius, yes I'm going to do it. My parents may have some objections, but so long as there's no impediment, I'm going to do it."

.oOo.

Sirius, Hermione and Lily left for Kent right after breakfast. Lily had insisted upon accompanying the other two. "I can tell her parents exactly what she'll have to expect from magical society; the good and the bad."

Hermione was nervous. This was moving quickly, but in her heart, she knew it wasn't a whim. The question before her was how to deal with her parents if they resisted her accepting Sirius' offer. The night before, as she lay in Harry's sleeping arms; she realized that this was her place. She wanted to fall asleep next to Harry and wake up with him every day for the rest of her life.

Therefore, it wasn't a question of whether or not she would accept Sirius' offer of the virtual adoption. She was accepting it and had already told him that this morning.

In a rare moment of tact, Sirius softly asked, "Are you sure? You seem…hesitant."

Shrugging, Hermione replied, "My parents."

Frowning, he replied, "Are you afraid they'll resent your choice? You don't have to…"

She interrupted him, "I'm afraid they'll make me choose between them and the magical world when I've already made my choice."

Looking across to the room where her green-eyed paramour was talking to his father, Sirius realized what her decision was. "You love him."

Without looking away, she nodded.

Placing a tender hand on her shoulder, he drew her attention back to him, "It will be alright in the end. I'm not sure how, but it will work out for the best."

With a humorous twitch of her eyebrows, Hermione asked, "When did you get all wise?"

"I got some quick tuition from Moony last night."

"Didn't you get drunk last night?"

"Naw, that was the night before last."

As the portkey that James had enchanted deposited them in the back garden of the Grangers, Hermione took a deep breath. Reassuring and steadying herself, she told herself, "I'm a witch and I love Harry." These were the reasons she wanted to do this.

Growing up is a process for all teens. For most, growing up was a gradual evolution that started around thirteen. Over time, they found their interests lay outside the home. While they still loved and cherished their parents, the pull of life would, over time, become too strong to resist.

For others, like Hermione, this process happened in a moment - a decision or event triggered the instant maturation in outlook and opinion. For Hermione, it was that moment when she met Harry's eyes across the drawing room when Sirius outlined his offer. She couldn't live without him. The Smartest Witch of the Age never could have lived without The Boy-Who-Lived, but only then did she acknowledge that essential truth. There was never any other option but to accept Sirius' offer. Everything changed.

With a bold step forward, she led the three magicals up the back steps and into the house.

.oOo.

"Ah, Harry. I'd like to introduce you to one of my favourite goblins in the entire world. Shitheap, this is my son, Lord Potter." It was midmorning. The Potter males had an enjoyably lazy morning before heading out to the bank. Harry and James had chatted about school and Quidditch, getting to know each other better.

Harry goggled at his father's stones. As far as he knew, no one fucked with the goblins and lived, yet here was James making fun of their names. The goblin teller, in his turn, glared at James before barking, "Ashcraik told us that you were back, human. He also told us that you hadn't changed a bit."

"And you missed every moment that I was gone, didn't you?" James bantered.

Grunting, the goblin slid from his seat. Without waiting for the two Potters to follow, he headed to the side door, which led to the conference rooms.

Once ensconced in their side-by-side chairs, James leaned over to his son, "Remember, this should just be a big exercise to see how many times you can sign your name in a morning. If things get dicey, let me handle it."

Reaching for a quill, Harry nodded. The dishevelled nature of Maturin's toilet gave testimony to the late night by all to prepare for the meeting. "My Lords," he began with a slight bow. "Despite the vast quantity of parchment to be signed, notarized and filed, this is a very straightforward operation. First, we shall read the will of James Potter, twenty third Earl of Richmond, so that we can probate said will."

"I get to be present at my own will reading. Hmm."

The back door to the room opened, admitting Remus, Sirius, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore and Sir Robert Mathison, the director of Mother Wilma's magical orphanage in Wales. As introductions were made, Harry narrowed his eyes at the headmaster as he muttered, "Magical orphanage?" To his credit, Dumbledore didn't look away, merely nodded his head sadly. McGonagall wouldn't meet the gaze of either Potter; her eyes were still swollen from her earlier weeping.

On the front page, the papers had announced the arrest of the Dursleys. In moderate detail, the Prophet also explained the reason for their arrests. Based on what his parents had told him, McGonagall was well aware of his…situation at the Dursleys. Her tears were a mystery to Harry. Guilt maybe? Regret, remorse and shame? Anger began to build in his belly. It was a bit late for his Professors to regret their actions.

In an attempt to get a handle on himself and his father, Harry nudged his dad in the side. "Can we get this part over with?" he whispered.

James nodded before clearing his throat. "Maturin, let's get this done, eh?"

"Of course, my Lord." Settling his green tinted reading glasses on his nose, the solicitor opened the sealed will. After a small pulse of magic, he read the opening formulaic words common to all wills.

Bequests to Hogwarts, Mother Wilma's and its sister firm, the Magical Widows and Orphans Fund preceded the disbursement to Remus of an even one hundred thousand galleons and a seaside cottage in the south of England, near Plymouth.

Sirius' eyes narrowed in malice at Dumbledore when Maturin read that James designated the Lord Blackmoor as young Harry's guardian. Dumbledore watched Maturin with a sad, noncommittal expression. Still, Minerva wouldn't meet anyone's gaze.

Harry was becoming more agitated as the reading progressed. Though the entire event took a grand total of four minutes from start to finish, by the end, Harry was nearly bouncing in his seat. When Maturin finished with, "Given by my hand, this fifteenth day of July, in the year of Our Lord one thousand, nine hundred eighty one," Harry turned to the pasty-faced solicitor.

"Why wasn't this will read before today?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw his father flinch, his face becoming a placid mask. Harry knew his father well enough to know that James had a good idea why the will was held up, but hadn't the time or energy to pursue the matter.

When no one replied, Harry reiterated himself, "Why wasn't this will read before today? My parents were believed to have died thirteen years ago, why wasn't this will read before today?"

Harry closed his eyes in frustration when Maturin looked to the quiet Albus Dumbledore to supply the answer to Harry's question.

Breathing, hard, Harry heard his father's cold voice ask, "Albus? Do you have an explanation for my son's question?"

In a low voice, the Headmaster admitted, "I prevented all post owls from reaching Harry until his Hogwarts letter arrived. After that, I only allowed letters from school and his friends to make it through the wards around his aunt and uncle's house. The Dursleys agreed to keep him only if they weren't contacted by the magical world in any way." He sighed, "As Harry is a celebrity, the post was an avalanche on a near daily basis. His birthday and Christmas was a deluge of unsolicited gifts. I took steps to prohibit this contact from the magical world as the Dursleys requested. As a consequence, no post owls from the family solicitor or the bank could reach him."

"I see." James intoned. Harry opened his eyes to see his father struggling to keep his calm. Deciding to help his father, Harry turned to Maturin, "Is there anything else?"

Taking Harry's cue, the solicitor instructed, "For those of you with monetary or physical inheritance, please sign the form in front of you. The monies specified shall be transferred to your vaults or the vaults of your firms by the end of the day. Mr Lupin," he turned to Remus, "The deed for the property specified has already been placed in your vault, but is being brought here for you to review. I'm sure my Lord Richmond can show you the site."

Remus nodded dumbly as he signed the form in front of him. With a series of flashes, the now signed forms disappeared.

Taking charge for his furious friend, Sirius stood, "I believe that's all. You all may leave." To soften the blow of his stiff words, to Sir Robert Sirius added, "It's been good to see you, Sir Robert. Please, pass our greetings to your lovely wife."

The jovial man gave a quick nod, eager to leave the tense room. Minerva stood, hesitating when Dumbledore remained seated.

"Albus, did you receive my letter?" James asked without looking at the old man.

"Yes, I did. I have no objections to your requests," the Headmaster replied in a sober tone.

"Good." Completely ignoring the old man at this point, James turned to Maturin, "What now?" Harry was surprised by his own lack of reaction to his father's casual dismissal of a wizard Harry held in very high regard until not that long before. Shrugging to himself, he decided to get on with the business of the day. He'd talk it over with Hermione when he got the chance.

Taking his father's example, Harry bent his head to a pile of parchment. His inheritance was staggering. Another thing to talk to his girlfriend about. Wrapped up in trust accession forms and account holder identity forms, he lost track of what was happening around him. The unnamed goblin who appeared at his side helped him through the documents.

Therefore, Harry heard, rather than saw his professors leave the room. His mother had told him that his father could hold a grudge and this was living proof. It was evident that James wouldn't piss on Dumbledore if the man were on fire.

Quiet reigned as Harry signed three stone of forms. Occasionally, he stopped to massage his hand. His father was staring out a window in silent contemplation while Sirius sat next to his friend, reading a magazine. Remus sat on the other side of the table, staring at the deed for his new house.

Harry had to smile. The man had been so disadvantaged for so long that he must be wondering what to do with himself. A hundred thousand galleons was a fortune that would support a family for generations of moderate spending on the interest alone. Harry was glad to see Moony have the freedom to live as he wished.

After signing another stone of forms, Harry saw that his father hadn't moved from the window. Uncharacteristically, Prongs hadn't said anything either.

"Dad?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

There was a long pause as Moony and Padfoot watched Prongs. Maturin silently excused himself from the room with the unnamed goblin on his heels. When the door clicked shut behind the solicitor and banker, Prongs told his son, "No. I'm not all right. I'm not even in the same country as alright."

Turning to his son, he explained, "You see, before our big time jump, we all believed that, while not perfect, Dumbledore was our leader. He would do the best by us all in his decisions. He was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, a group where we all banded together to fight back against the Death Eaters. I thought we were all on the same team, as it were."

His eyes narrowing as his nostrils flared, James spat, "And now I find that he not only sent you to Surrey unsupervised, but also kept you from your inheritance. It's not just the money, either. There are journals in the vaults that tell of the Potters. You've already been to the Hall of Portraits. If you'd been raised by Sirius, you would've been raised at Rowan Hill. You'd have known all about our family and your mother and me. You'd have been raised with what it means to be a Potter.

"My whole life, my Father drilled into me that Family comes First. Everything else is secondary." Scowling, he looked back out the window, "And Dumbledore has kept all this from you."

Trying to ignore the slight to himself and his behaviour, Harry countered, "But I've got you and Mum now. We do live at Rowan Hill, now."

Hesitantly, James nodded. A small crooked smile fractured the calm façade of his face, "How did you get so smart?"

Harry jibed back, "I told him earlier," Harry jerked his thumb at his godfather, "I've known Hermione for too long to be really stupid. Plus, I think Mum would kill me if was a dunce."

James laughed, a hint of the Marauder creeping back. Clapping his son on the shoulder, he told him, "Let's get this done. We need to do a bit of shopping. Your Mum's birthday is next week."

Harry nodded before he remembered. Turning to Sirius, he asked, "How did it go with Hermione's parents?"

Sirius scrunched up his face, causing Harry a moment of panic. "Not so good, then good followed by not so good. She's back at Rowan Hill with Lily."

Ignoring the pain in his hand, Harry began to sign his name with a hurry and focus he'd never had when attending to schoolwork.

"Dad, we're going to have to skip the shopping today. I need to get home."

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first three chapters. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on FanFiction(dot)net.

2. Recommendation for the chapter is Lunch at Maxine's by apAiden. Very amusing and poignant story.

3. Chapter complete 4/23/11

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