Chapter 47- Childcare 101, does this thing come with instructions?(part 3)

Snape looked up from his seat near the fire, interest piqued. "The Mark Remover failed?"

"Not exactly," Minerva supplied. "The product covered his scar as promised, but Mr. Potter was allergic to it."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, eyes lost in the past. "That was one of the main reasons we decided against trying to hide him with a wizarding family after Sirius was incarcerated. That and the strength of the Blood Protection, of course. We had no way of knowing Voldemort's Dark Forces would crumble so easily without him. Hiding Harry away behind the strongest protection we could come up with seemed like the best thing to do at the time."

The bit at the train station seems off," Arthur ventured, breaking the silence they'd fallen into as each recalled their own memories of those dark times. He shook his head sadly. "I still can't believe Harry would lie to Molly about his uncle!"

Molly and Ron, who had both been unusually quiet during Remus and Arabella's briefing, spoke up almost as one.

"He didn't, Arthur," Molly insisted.

"He saw someone, Dad!" Ron said earnestly. "I saw him too, just for a second..." He trailed off and shrugged. "He was a few meters away, but he certainly looked like Harry's uncle."

"But neither of you thought to verify the man's identity before leaving," Snape sneered condescendingly.

Ron flushed angrily, while his mother looked shamed. It was true they had accepted Harry's word without hesitation, but why? The station had been rather crowded, and the man certainly hadn't been nearby. Part of it, at least from his point of view, was his own desire to make things up to Harry. He still felt bad about accusing him of lying at the beginning of the year, but there was more to it than that.

Frowning deeply, Ron allowed his mind to wander, and found himself recalling first year. Specifically the end of the year, when he and Harry and Hermione had entered the Chamber of Keys, while trying to find the Sorcerer's Stone. A corner of his mouth tugged upward. What was it Hermione had said?

"These birds...they can't be here just for decoration..." *

Yes. That was right. At first, they'd all thought a flock of birds was with them in the chamber. They'd watched for a while, then his dark-haired friend had gotten that look he always got when something occurred to him. Ron smiled softly. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see it...

"They're not birds!" Harry said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys-look carefully. So that must mean..." he looked around the chamber while the other two squinted up at the flock of keys. "...yes-look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!" *

Slowly, Ron opened his eyes and raised his head, an expression of dawning comprehension on his face.

"-look carefully!"

"...yes-look! Broomsticks!"

Look...

That's it! Ron leapt to his feet and hurried down to his Pensieve, without bothering to wonder if he should have asked permission or if he was out of line. Arthur and Molly automatically started to call him back, but the teachers in the room, recognizing a student on the verge of discovery, motioned for them to remain silent.

Reaching the small bowl, Ron drew his wand and prodded the silvery mass inside. He'd never once doubted Harry's word on anything he saw because Harry was usually so sharp-sighted! Everyone in his family had noticed-even his mum. When telling tales of their Seeker's Quidditch exploits, the twins liked to joke that Harry could spot a gnat wiping it's feet on the next-door-neighbor's mat, and most of the time they weren't far off the mark. Unfortunately, Ron recollected with a barely suppressed grimace, Harry had been far from his best when the Hogwarts Express had pulled into King's Cross Station.

Trying to remember the instructions his father had given him, Ron searched through the memories he had placed in the Pensieve. "It didn't occur to anyone to question him because Harry's usually so good at spotting things," he explained distractedly as he worked. "But that day-that day at the station...here!" he said when he found the one he wanted, and brought it up for the others to see.

Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and Hermione were standing almost protectively around Harry at King's Cross Station. They were talking about going to Diagon Alley later in the summer. Harry smiled, and nodded, but seemed distracted. Every now and then, he would frown slightly, and scan the station, presumably looking for his uncle. This went on for a few seconds, then Harry got a mildly annoyed expression on his face. He blinked rapidly a few times then snatched his glasses off and rubbed his eyes impatiently.

"All right there, Harry?" the image of Ron asked, when Harry stopped rubbing his eyes and began to polish his glasses with his shirt-tail.

Harry smiled a bit. "Yeah, just tired," he assured.

Ron stopped the memory, then faced the others questioningly, unsure if they'd caught what he was trying to show them. If nothing else, Harry looked pale and tired. Tired enough to make a mistake, come to think of it, but Ron was more interested in his friend's behavior with regard to his glasses.

He needn't have worried. As each viewed the Pensieve, it became evident that the Order members got the message loud and clear. McGonagall and Dumbledore both unconsciously adjusted their own spectacles, before exchanging a significant look.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore stated at length. "That clears a few things up."

"Bollocks!" Sirius disagreed, scowling. "It doesn't explain anything! Say Harry did make a mistake. Go even farther and assume his uncle never showed up! Why would he bother going to Surrey at all? Surely it occurred to him that something was off! Why didn't he just send Hedwig to one of us?"

"I'm afraid that is my fault, Sirius," Albus sighed regretfully. "Harry has gotten impatient with his Muggle relatives and left the safety of his protective wards in the past. I wanted to avoid this if possible, so I told him his friends would be safer if he returned to his aunt and uncle at least initially. I also made him promise that he would contact them only in the most desperate of emergencies."

"I should jolly well think being stuck at a train station qualifies!" Arthur blurted almost accusingly.

"As do I, Arthur," Albus agreed. "Harry, on the other hand, does not appear to. He did not write to me until almost a week later, and then he only mentioned his newly employed status and his scar."

Ron frowned worriedly at that. "Has Harry's scar been bothering him, sir?"

Dumbledore paused, as if considering how much to say. "In a manner of speaking," he hedged. "Harry hasn't complained about his scar paining him, but Voldemort's rebirth appears to have affected it in a few unexpected ways."

Ron didn't look satisfied with the answer, but his headmaster didn't offer any additional information. Sighing, the redhead tried a different tack. "Have you contacted Hermione, sir?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I owled Miss Granger just before I placed the firecall to the Burrow, and if I failed to mention it before, thank you for your assistance, Mr. Weasley. Your insights have been most helpful."

Ron knew a dismissal when he heard one, but he tried to get permission to stay anyway. This was his best friend after all. He knew Harry's quirks better than anyone except maybe Hermione. Unfortunately the adults were having none of it. After being warned not to discuss Harry's current situation with anyone, his father had escorted Ron back to the Burrow in spite of his protests.

Sighing, Ron gave the fireplace one last glare before climbing up to his room. He had a couple of letters to write, and the first one was going to be addressed to the daft git he called his best friend.

_________

In a certain London townhouse, three children aged almost three to almost fifteen stared at each other in a silence that was beginning to become oppressive.

Harry was aghast at the possible consequences of Dobby's actions. Any second now, he expected to receive a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk in the Improper Use of Magic Office, then soon after that Ministry Wizards from the Magic Reversal Squad would come swooping in. He would be expelled...Kitty and Becky would be Obliviated...they would snap his wand...

He'd worked himself into such a state he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone patting his arm. Blinking, he looked down and found himself looking into Kitty's soft brown eyes. Now that she'd gotten over her surprise, she seemed surprisingly calm. Calmer than he felt, at any rate. "Don't worry, it's okay," she assured him, unconsciously mimicking her mother. "Sometimes stuff like that happens when you wish really hard."

Frowning, a bit, Harry regarded her curiously. "What do you mean?" he finally asked guardedly.

Kitty and Becky looked at each other, then seemed to come to a decision. "We want to show you something, okay? Just don't freak out, and don't tell my mom."

Later, when Harry had a chance to think things over rationally, he couldn't believe he'd reacted the way he had. Everything seemed backward. He was supposed to be comforting them for crying out loud, not the other way 'round! The whole situation felt surreal-like it just couldn't be happening.

So he'd nodded.

Becky, who was nearby but hadn't been touching him, approached him and hugged one of his legs. "We play ball, 'Parky," she grinned, trying to make him do the same. "'Parky like ball?"

Harry quirked a half smile at that. "Yeah," he agreed. "'Parky like ball."

Kitty nodded then held out a hand. A few seconds later, she was holding what appeared to be a perfectly round ball of white light.

Harry was impressed in spite of himself. "When did you learn to do that?" he asked curiously. Kitty shrugged.

"A long time ago," she said. "I was just a little kid. My night light had burned out, and I woke up alone in the dark." She hesitated, looking like she thought he might tease her, but eventually, plowed ahead. "I was scared. I don't like the dark," she confessed quietly. "I wished really hard that my light was still working, and this is what happened."

Nodding, Harry glanced at the dark-haired toddler. "Can Becky do things like that as well?"

"Sort of. She can't make her own ball yet, but she can change mine. She likes to make it different colors," Kitty told him. "Mom was really surprised at how fast she learned her colors," she confided with an impish grin, offering the softly glowing sphere to her sister.

Becky seized the opportunity. This was evidently a favorite game of hers. "Boo!" she commanded, touching the white globe. Obediently it changed color, and before Harry's astonished eyes it turned blue. Giggling at his reaction, she pointed at the ball again. "Geen!" Harry smiled when the ball turned green, but Becky wasn't through with him yet. "See?" she asked, looking up at him seriously. Harry indicated that he did. "Good. Now 'Parky do," she said with a grin, eager to get him in the game.

Harry regarded her warily. "Sparky do what?"

Rebecca gave him a guileless look. "Do wed," she suggested.

"I really don't know if I can," Harry admitted. Becky shrugged but didn't let him off the hook.

"Ty," she invited.

"All right," he conceded, hesitantly reaching out to touch the ball. It felt very odd and made his fingers tingle. The thing held it's shape, but didn't have a solid form. It also shone like a light bulb, but didn't give off any noticeable heat. Both girls were looking at him expectantly, he mused distractedly. Red. He closed his eyes and thought about strawberries...quaffles...his quidditch robes... He knew something had happened when he heard the two laugh happily. He opened one eye cautiously, then grinned proudly when he spotted the now red ball.

"Sweet!" Kitty crowed, examining the now ruby-red sphere. "That is so cool!"

"So what do you think it is?" Harry asked curiously.

Both girls looked at him like he was simple-minded. "Magic," they replied, as though it should be obvious.

"Just like in the movies," Kitty grinned, then remembered something. "So," she said gesturing at the living room, "can we watch our video now?"

Albus waited until Arthur returned from seeing young Ronald home, then re-convened the meeting. "What have you discovered, Filius, Minerva?" he asked, addressing his Charms and Transfiguration professors. "Have you discovered why Harry is suddenly immune to tracking spells?"

Flitwick and McGonagall shared a grim look, before the little Charms professor responded. "I think so, Albus," he admitted, with a drawn-out reluctance that made Sirius want to strangle him. Glancing around, the Animagus was pleased to note that he wasn't the only impatient one. Molly, Arthur and Arabella were all on the edge of their seats, and Remus was gripping his desk so hard it creaked.

"And...?" Dumbledore finally prompted.

"By all appearances, a last-resort failsafe mechanism has been activated," Flitwick said, looking troubled. "But I'm not sure why. Mr. Potter's relatives are still alive..." He trailed off and shook his head, frowning.

"Sorry, Filius, but could you back up a bit?" Remus asked, earning grateful looks from Sirius and Arthur. "What failsafe are you talking about, and what do the Dursleys have to do with it?"

So Professor Flitwick launched into an edited version of the events of early November 1981. He told about the defensive magic that had been cast, and how the decision to use Harry's file to watch over him had been made.

"If he was in some sort of danger while under his relatives' guardianship, and required assistance, his folder was spelled to alarm," the Charms professor explained. "The failsafe mechanism was put into place as a last means of defense should Mr. Potter lose his guardians again. When we cast it, we believed it would only activate in the event of their deaths. Since his Muggle family is very much alive, we must consider other circumstances...for example if they disowned or abandoned him, or Mr. Potter refused to go with them..." He trailed off looking exceptionally grave.

"So the Protective Blood Charm that has kept him safe all these years has been broken?" Albus asked quietly. Flitwick nodded, and the old headmaster sighed heavily.

"But why? Why now?" Molly asked, looking grieved. "I still remember when he and Ron brought Ginny back to us...why not then?"

"Yes, and what about when he ran away from his aunt and uncle the summer before his third year?" Arthur put in.

"And just last month when he was portkeyed to that graveyard," Sirius added.

Flitwick nodded briskly, and raised his hands for silence. When they had settled down, he continued. "You're confusing Mr. Potter being in danger, and Mr. Potter having no guardians. The failsafe would not become active as long as he was under his Muggle relatives' guardianship, but his folder should have alerted us when he was in physical danger."

"Yes, it should have," Dumbledore interrupted thoughtfully as though recalling something. "Arabella," he said, turning to face the gray-haired witch, "you wrote to the Ministry regarding the flying automobile incident, did you not?" He waited for Mrs. Figg to nod, then prompted, "And what was their response?"

"Not much," Belle admitted, shuffling through a folder she had brought with her, and pulling out what appeared to be a Ministry form letter. "Initially, they wrote back, and said they had received my letter, and assured me the matter would be looked into." She paused for a second, looking through her folder again, then pulled another letter out. "A couple of weeks later, I got this letter from the Minister's office. They assured me that Harry's folder seemed to be in order, and speculated that it didn't alarm because he had left his uncle's house of his own free will."

"I see," Dumbledore said, frowning thoughtfully, and steepling his fingers in front of him. He glanced up at Flitwick. "Would you agree with their assessment, Filius?"

"Actually, no," Flitwick admitted. "Unless the charms were modified drastically, free will shouldn't have mattered. You are part of the Wizengamot, Albus, I know there was a request for modification early on. Were there others?"

Dumbledore didn't have to think long to answer that one. "No, Filius. There was only the one request, and as I recall, it was resolved before the Charms Specialist was even able to get to it."

The little Charms professor nodded, then paused to gather his thoughts, and went on. "The failsafe mechanism is conditional magic. The lock of hair we placed inside Mr. Potter's folder allows it to be "aware" of his physical state, or as aware as an inanimate object can be. If he had been or had become seriously ill or injured, for example, the failsafe would have activated immediately."

"So does that mean he's seriously ill or injured now?" Remus asked, half-rising in alarm and voicing the question Sirius couldn't bear to ask.

"Not necessarily," Filius cautioned. "There was a timing mechanism built in. Should Mr. Potter lose his guardians, the folder would assess his state. If he was essentially all right, it would alarm just like always, and the Ministry would have ten days to collect him and place him with another family."

"And if they didn't?" Sirius asked tensely, already suspecting the answer. It had been exactly three weeks since the end of term.

Flitwick sighed. This was where things got a little gray. "You must remember, when these charms were set, Mr. Potter was little more than an infant. He absolutely could not be without a guardian. We fully expected that the situation would be resolved immediately should it ever occur, and other precautions would not be necessary. However, since we were technically still at war, we planned for the worst, regardless. Unfortunately, this required many conditional qualifiers, and I'm afraid the folder's behavior might be slightly unpredictable once the ten-day mark passed.

"If a guardian had not been found at the end of two weeks, the folder was charmed to begin gathering information on possible candidates, to sort of help the Ministry along. If a guardian had not been assigned at the end of three weeks, this would be an indicator that the Ministry, for whatever reason, could not complete the task. The defensive magic would activate to hide him and whoever might helping him, regardless of his physical state, and it is very likely that the folder will begin the process of assigning a likely candidate itself."

Sirius' eyes widened in horror. Some brainless bits of parchment were going to arbitrarily assign his godson a guardian? "How do we turn it off?" he demanded, finally finding his tongue.

"We cannot-at least not easily," Albus said, frowning in concentration. "I am on the Wizengamot, but even we need permission from the Minister's office before Harry's folder can be accessed. Unfortunately, Minister Fudge is in no mood to grant me favors."

Arthur suddenly brightened and snapped his fingers. "Percy!" he exclaimed. He got a few odd looks, so Arthur quickly explained. His middle son had gotten a job as an undersecretary in the Minister's office recently. They hadn't seen a lot of him lately because he'd been kept so busy, and he had all but stopped coming to the Burrow to assist with the warding. Still, Arthur was confident that Percy would help them. Harry was practically family after all.

Albus nodded, them turned to Flitwick again. "How do you predict the folder will proceed?"

Filius considered carefully before answering. "It will most likely compile a list of likely candidates from the people Mr. Potter sees regularly. There must be some sign of willingness from the foster family in question to Mr. Potter, and a sign of acceptance from him to them. I cannot, for example, gain guardianship by simply stating my willingness. I must offer it to Mr. Potter in person, and he must accept my offer. Now, exactly what constitutes offer and acceptance is determined by the folder, and I can say that it will most likely become less precise and choosy as time goes on."

The witches and wizards in the room sat in silence for a few minutes, before Dumbledore abruptly shook himself out of his reverie. "All right," he said, clapping his hands briskly. "We have some time, but not a lot of it. Does anyone have any ideas about where he may be staying?"

"It can't be anywhere fancy," Sirius speculated, after a moment's thought. "He told me in a recent letter than he's doing things like sweeping floors and stocking shelves. There's nothing wrong with it, but jobs like that aren't exactly on the upper end of the wage scale. Unless he's working full-time, he can't be earning much more than pocket money, and even then it's dodgy."

"True, Black, unless he's supplementing his income."

Sirius and the others turned to face the Hogwarts Potion Master who was studying the transcript from earlier. "What are you on about?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"I just find his choice of wording here interesting," Snape said, tapping the parchment thoughtfully. " Engorgio! " he commanded, waving his wand at the parchment. When the paper was large enough for everyone to see, he transfigured a stand, and fastened the transcript to it. "Here," he said, tapping the paper with his wand.

Now, if you'll excuse me, the lady who requested my services this evening should be by any moment now, and I really need to get going.

The silence was deafening for a full fifteen seconds, then everyone started to talk at once.

"How dare you!" Arthur and Sirius roared.

"Now really Severus, that was uncalled for," Remus scolded.

"Harry is a good lad," Arabella screeched.

"If his family has abandoned him, as they appear to have done, Potter may not have a lot of choice in the matter!" Snape bellowed back. "And since he's decided to follow instructions for the first time in his miserable life, his options are not exactly varied. Of course you may be right," he said smirking at Black. "There's probably not be a thriving market for scrawny, undergrown boys. Perhaps he's merely peddling Muggle recreational drugs, or engaging in petty theft."

"Enough, Severus!" Albus said sternly, before Sirius finished sputtering, and things got completely out of hand. "I'm sure we all hope that Harry would consider that an emergency, and would have contacted someone if he found himself in such straits. Unfortunately," he added with a grimace, "as distasteful as this scenario may be, until we find Harry, we cannot discount it."

"Albus!" Sirius protested. "You can't believe Harry would do anything like that!"

"No, Sirius, I do not. However, I also didn't believe Harry would ever feel he needed to hide from me, and until today, I believed he was with his Muggle family. I admit it isn't the best lead we have, but we cannot leave any stone unturned. This possibility will be checked out with all the others."

"Besides, Paddy, he's almost fifteen. Prongs started really noticing girls at fifteen," Remus instigated shamelessly, enjoying the horrified look in his friend's eyes. Sirius was entirely to easy to get a rise out of.

"Yes, well. I suggest we adjourn for the night," Albus said, removing a pocket watch from his robe and noting the time. "Everyone try and get some sleep, and we will begin our search in the morning."

* Lines from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Bowling.

***************