The muggle house looked prim and proper with a pretty front garden filled with

roses. It was not the type of place where Amelia had envisaged the last of the
Potter line residing, never mind the Boy Who Lived. She would have wondered why
none of the Potter properties had been used except there was an impressive set of
blood wards surrounding the house singing with Lily Potter's signature and
additional wards with Dumbledore's. It explained why Dumbledore had placed Potter
with his aunt, and Amelia had always understood keeping the address need-to-know,
but it didn't explain why there wasn't a record of visitations to confirm the child
was safe.

Alastor had told her that he'd taken the precaution of 'offering' to check out the
wards when he'd gone to talk with Dumbledore the day before about his Hogwarts job
offer. Dumbledore had refused but as Alastor pointed out to Amelia, his old friend
would not be surprised that Alastor had ignored him, tracked down the address and
gone ahead with his offer anyway. It gave them a wonderful cover for their visit if
Dumbledore had some means of monitoring the residence Alastor couldn't see.

Amelia glanced down at her smart brown pantsuit and nodded to Alastor who had
actually taken the time to transfigure his usual garb into a badly fitting muggle
suit and trench-coat; his magical eye had been charmed to appear normal to a
muggle.

He rang the doorbell and they could both hear the echo in the house. A few moments
later, Petunia Dursley answered the door.

Amelia blinked. Any resemblance she had expected to see between Lily Potter and her
sister disappeared immediately; the horsey brunette in front of her could have been
deemed handsome perhaps, if she lost the snooty air and sour expression. "Petunia
Dursley? I'm Amelia Bones from the DMLE. I sent you a letter"

"Yes, I received it." Dursley sniffed. She ran her eyes over them and peered beyond
them as though to check if the neighbours had noticed them. "You'd better come in."

The inside of the house wasn't large but it was reasonable and not unduly small.
Amelia noticed Dursley darting a glance at the cupboard under the stairs as she
waved them through into a well-proportioned living room. The furniture was well-
maintained although there were signs of aging in the sagging sofa and chairs. There
were pictures everywhere of a plump blond boy at various ages; other photos of
Dursley and an obese man who had to be her husband were in evidence. There were no
photos of their famous nephew or his parents and Amelia's suspicions from the
interviews with Harry's friends came raging back tenfold.

"Harry is outside in the garden doing his chores. I'll get him for you." Dursley
left before they could say anything.

Amelia exchanged a 'this doesn't look good' gaze with Alastor. They remained silent
and soon enough footsteps signalled someone coming into the room, Amelia focused on
her first close-up look of the Boy Who Lived.

As reported, he was a miniature James Potter in features but his eyes were
brilliant green. His hair was a dark mop, the fringe pulled down over his infamous
scar. His clothing was scruffy; oversized t-shirt and shorts that were too baggy on
his small frame hand-me-downs, Amelia surmised, but Dursley was probably hoping
to pass them off as gardening clothes hence Potter being in the garden when Dursley
knew they were coming to interview him. He had nothing on his feet; probably
whatever shoes he wore had been left at the back-door. His hands were wet, red and
scratched; his upper lip had a layer of hard-earned sweat; he'd barely been given
time to clean-up.
Dursley frowned at them all. "I have appointments to keep. Our son is out for the
day but my husband will be home in four hours. Make sure you lot are gone by then."

Amelia stiffened at the sharp tone and watched in astonishment as Dursley hurried
from the room, a small bang from the front door underscoring her departure. What
kind of guardian left a thirteen year old boy to be questioned by law enforcement
on his own?

She turned back to see Potter swallowing nervously and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Firstly, let me assure you that you're not in trouble. I'm Director Amelia Bones,
Mister Potter, and this is my ex-colleague, Alastor Moody. Did your aunt explain
our visit today?"

"Just that you were the police and wanted to talk to me." Potter replied politely.
His eyes shone with curiosity as the concern over whether he was in trouble eased.

"Well, I'm in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry,"
Amelia explained, "which includes the Auror division that is the magical equivalent
of muggle policemen." She gestured at Alastor who remained silent. "Both of us were
Aurors at one time. Alastor here actually worked with your father who was a Hit
Wizard, a special kind of policeman, but Alastor is retired now, and I mainly deal
with prosecutions and try to make my budgets add up these days."

Potter's face lit up. "My Dad was a Hit Wizard?"

"Yes, and a very fine one too until your Granddad died and he had to take over the
family estates." Alastor said brusquely while Amelia assimilated that Potter hadn't
known his father's occupation. "Maybe we can tell you a few stories after our
discussion."

Potter beamed at them happily.

Alastor motioned at him impatiently. "Where's your wand, lad?"

"Upstairs in my room." He pointed upwards.

"You really should have it on you at all times." Alastor chided crisply.

Potter flushed. "My unclehethey don't like magical things."

He was clearly embarrassed and Amelia's heart went out to him; abuse cases had
always gotten to her. She wished she'd thought to bring a young Auror along.

"Hnmph." Alastor said. "Amelia, you'll be setting up the privacy wards down here
while I ensure the rest of the house is secured?"

In other words, she should do a full scan of the downstairs for evidence of
mistreatment while he did the upstairs. She nodded sharply.

"If you're going to use magic, won't I get into trouble?" Harry asked. "Somebody's
house elf used magic here once trying to get me expelled and I got a warning."

Amelia frowned. That explained the misdemeanour for underage magic she'd found on
his file; she'd see about having it expunged. "Our magic will not register as
under-age, Harry, but if there are any issues I'll take care of them."

"Well, lad, lead the way upstairs." Alastor ushered the boy out and Amelia
immediately dived into her bag, set up her quill and began casting her scanning
spell, the results automatically recording onto the parchment.
She headed out into the hall and peered into the cupboard that had made Dursley so
worried; the sight sickened her. There was some clutter of discarded muggle sports
gear and cleaning equipment, but beyond that there was a stained children's
mattress and an old taped up sign that read 'Harry's room.' She closed the door and
moved into the kitchen.

It was immaculate; shining surfaces and a floor that gleamed. Amelia took a quick
look at the neat back garden shoddy trainers which she assumed were Potter's had
been left on the back step along with gardening gear, but no gloves that would have
protected Potter's hands.

She made it back into the living room and read over the parchment, frowning heavily
at the results from upstairs that Alastor had directed to the quill. Her stomach
churned at the litany. She called for her house elf and had her bring some tea,
sandwiches, scones and cake. She packed the parchment away just before Alastor and
Potter came back into the room. Potter's eyes widened at the sight of food.

"I hope you don't mind but I thought some afternoon tea would help make this a
little easier." Amelia directed him to the sofa and he sat down gingerly.

Alastor sat next to him.

"Now, Mister Potter, as a minor you should really have a guardian present. As
Alastor here knew your father, perhaps you'll allow him to stand-in?"

Potter's eyes went to Alastor questioningly.

"I'll be pleased to do it." Alastor said gruffly.

Potter nodded. "OK, then." He looked back at Amelia. "And it's Harry; just Harry."

Amelia smiled at him. "Shall we get the oath over with first then, Harry?"

"Oath?"

"All ongoing investigations require an oath to ensure information doesn't leak

before it is officially released. It also ensures that witnesses cannot collude
with each other." Alastor explained to him. "Have you got the written version for
the lad?"

Amelia opened her bag and extracted a printed copy of the oath. "Here you go,
Harry."

Harry read over the parchment. "What's the investigation you want to ask me about?"

"Sirius Black." Amelia replied bluntly. "Specifically what happened the night he
escaped from Hogwarts."

His eyes darted to hers, and she caught the full weight of the worry, fear and hope
in them before he dropped his gaze, and shifted to look at Alastor to check he
should take the oath. Alastor nodded and Harry picked up the quill, signing his
name quickly and without fanfare.

"Good. Tea?" Amelia poured him a cup, placed sandwiches on a plate and handed the
lot over to him with a flick of her wand.

He tucked into the simple fare eating quickly and efficiently as though used to
rushing. She knew he had been deprived of food in the past; locked up and barely
fed. She handed him another plate of sandwiches as she asked him to describe what
happened in his own words.

His testimony married with the others but it was the most painful to hear; the
personal aspect was too sharp to ignore Pettigrew had betrayed Harry's parents
and caused their deaths, Black was Harry's godfather. The horror of the Dementor
attack had Amelia shivering and she was sympathetic when he expressed dismay and
frustration at the Minister's initial decision not to believe him

He looked over at her finally, his green eyes bright with curiosity again. "Can I
ask why the Minister changed his mind?"

"He discovered that your godfather never had a trial." Amelia answered honestly.
"It has shaken the Minister's conviction that Black is guilty and hence his request
I investigate." She handed Harry a slice of cake much to Alastor's badly hidden
amusement.

Harry swallowed some cake and waved a hand at her. "What about Snape's testimony?"

"From what we've heard there'd be no point asking him anything." Alastor
interjected. "He only saw you three kids, Lupin and Black together, and was knocked
out before anything of note took place."

"And the Headmaster?" Harry asked. "He talked to Sirius too, I think."

"But alone." Alastor commented. "No verifying witnesses except for Black himself
unlike the four of you."

"So will Sirius be cleared?" His young face was so hopeful that Amelia felt regret
at giving him the official answer.

"I can't say, Harry, until I've finished and submitted my findings to the
Minister." Amelia said apologetically.

"Don't forget though that you're not to discuss this interview with your Headmaster
or with your friends." Alastor said. "Or Black."

Harry nodded quickly, streaks of red across his cheeks giving away he probably was
in contact with his godfather. Amelia knew she should probably ask for the
correspondence but couldn't bring herself to deprive the child of anything positive
in his life.

"Well, if Amelia's done," Alastor shot her a look and she gave a nod, stopping the
quill, "how about I tell you a couple of stories about your Dad?"

Harry's demeanour brightened. Amelia watched as Alastor weaved a grand tale about
James Potter's first training session and it was clear that Harry was starved for
information about his parents and heritage. What was Albus Dumbledore thinking?

Three stories later and Amelia brought a reluctant halt to the afternoon.

Alastor paused on their way out and dug into the pocket of his trench-coat. He
motioned for Harry to give his arm and placed a wand holster on it. He pushed
Harry's wand into place. "Practice releasing it from the holster." He said roughly.
"And remember to always wear your wand. You can hide it beneath your shirts now."

Harry grinned at him. "Thank you."

"Remember" Alastor wagged a finger at him.

"Constant vigilance!" Harry replied back promptly with a cheeky grin.

Amelia rolled her eyes because Alastor had jumped on the opportunity to
indoctrinate another person into his paranoia. "It's been good to meet you, Harry."
She shook his hand as they said goodbye and left the house. Amelia couldn't help
feeling wretched that she was leaving Harry Potter somewhere she was certain was
completely unsuitable.

She and Alastor exchanged another look; they had a lot to talk about but none of it
was appropriate for discussion on a public street. They walked down the road
towards an alley where they could apparate without being seen.

A grey-haired woman hovered at the corner of Privet Drive and Wisteria Walk. She
broke into a trot upon seeing them and Amelia noticed she was followed by a cat
no a kneazle. Amelia frowned at the tartan carpet slippers that the woman wore.

"Alastor Moody!" The woman called out in greeting. "Albus said you might be
stopping by today."

And suddenly Amelia was very grateful Alastor had taken the time to provide them
with a cover story. Obviously the woman was Dumbledore's spy in the neighbourhood.

"Arabella Figg." Alastor said politely. "It's been a while." He didn't introduce
Amelia and she kept quiet.

"You don't really think Black's still a threat, do you, Alastor?" Figg asked
hurriedly. "Albus said his sources place Black abroad."

"As do mine." Alastor answered. "But you know what I always say"

"Constant vigilance." Figg said obediently. "Do you want to use my floo?"

"A private place to apparate would be appreciated, Arabella." Alastor said,

glancing at Amelia.

They all walked briskly to Figg's house. It smelled of kneazles and boiled
vegetables. Amelia found her nose wrinkling but otherwise hid her reaction. As soon
as the door was closed, Alastor started with the questions.

"I take it you've been watching over Potter a while?" Alastor asked.

"Since December 'eighty-one." Figg replied. "Albus asked me to keep watch and
report anything suspicious wizards in the area, that kind of thing, give him any
updates on Harry that I could gather. It was the least I could do for Albus after,
well, you remember."

"We caught a glimpse of Potter in the garden," Alastor continued, "bit thin, isn't
he? And I thought his folks left him money. You wouldn't know it by the way he
dresses."

"Well, children can be fussy eaters, Alastor," Figg said, avoiding their eyes, "and
who knows what the youngsters consider fashionable these days."

"Do you really believe that?" Amelia blurted out unable to stop herself.

Figg sighed and her mouth drooped. "The Dursleys are perfectly horrid muggles, I'm
afraid. They've never treated Harry the same as their own son although some might
think that was a blessing. Albus warned me when I complained to him the first time
I baby-sat Harry for them that they might not be as caring towards him as we would
wish, but he was certain that they would do right by their nephew in the end."

"You baby-sit the boy?" Alastor shot Amelia a look that told her to keep quiet.

"Not very often these days he's getting old enough to look after himself or so
the Dursleys would have it. Obviously I follow Albus's instructions not to reveal
I'm a squib or about You-Know-Who or about the wizarding world butit's difficult
and, well, I've thought it best that he didn't enjoy being with me too much
otherwise the Dursleys probably would send him somewhere else."

Amelia badly wanted to hex the woman. She had lacked the compassion to make Harry's
life better when he stayed with her, and followed Albus Dumbledore's word as though
it was law. And why hadn't Figg reported any of the mistreatment she had to have
seen?

"At least someone was making regular reports about the boy's welfare to the proper
authorities." Alastor said briskly, obviously thinking along similar lines to
herself.

"Oh Albus made the official reports. He and I didn't have anything formal, Alastor.
I just contacted Albus every so often usually just after I'd baby-sat Harry."
Figg's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "I always used to smile when I'd see the
occasional photo I managed to take and send to Albus end up in the Prophet."

So that's how pictures of the boy had been released to the public; Amelia had
always wondered. Amelia darted a look at Alastor she wasn't certain she could
stay another moment without yelling at Figg.

Alastor got the message. "Well, it's been nice chatting to you, Arabella, but we
must be off. You can tell Albus the wards look fine."

Amelia smiled tightly as she offered her own terse goodbye and immediately
apparated to the Ministry. Alastor was a moment behind her. They waited until they
got to her office and under heavy privacy wards before she erupted.

"Did I just hear that right?" demanded Amelia. "Did thatthat woman" she was
almost incoherent with anger.

Alastor pointed at her desk. "Get the Ogden's out."

She did and by the time she'd knocked back one drink she'd regained some measure of
control.

"You have to understand Arabella's not been wholly with it since her husband and
her son were killed standing right next to her in a Death Eater attack on Diagon
Alley." Alastor said, nursing his own drink that he'd poured from his flask. "Her
husband was a friend of Albus's so Albus looked after Arabella after his death,
made sure she got her inheritance despite her being a squib, and set her up
properly in her new kneazle breeding business."

"Hence her loyalty to him." Amelia sighed heavily, her ire slightly tempered with
Alastor's explanation.

"Unfortunately Albus could tell her that grass was pink with purple dots and she
would believe him." Alastor agreed. "So, having heard from Albus when she first got
there that the Dursleys wouldn't treat the boy well, it probably never occurred to
her to tell him again because she thought he knew." He sighed. "As for her
convoluted thinking that giving the kid some affection when she watched him would
mean the Dursleys wouldn't bring him back" he grimaced, "well, your guess is as
good as mine."

"She could be right." Amelia conceded. "The Dursleys would probably be that petty."
She poured herself another drink. "The results from the scans are horrifying. He
lived in that cupboard under the stairs for years and there was a long list of
verbal abuse and minor physical injuries. They periodically starved him, Alastor,
sending a kid to bed with no food as a punishment but taken to an extreme."

He nodded. "He has the smallest of the bedrooms upstairs. There are locks on the
door outside; evidence that there were bars at the window at one point. I would
guess he's been locked in before. His furniture is broken, dilapidated. He barely
has enough clothes to justify a wardrobe all of them seem second-hand. His school
clothes are good quality but they're in his trunk. He keeps his valuables under a
loose floorboard under the bed. He has food stored there."

"In case they lock him in there again?" Amelia rubbed the back of her neck. "Any
other child, Alastor, and I would have removed him from that house already."

"Even I know you're going to need to be politically savvy about this." Alastor
comforted her. "Look, Albus and I have been friends for a long time and he isa
great wizard but he's not infallible even if he sometimes thinks he is." He sipped
his drink. "He messed up. He obviously knew the muggles might have an issue
accepting the lad as their own, he dismissed the first report of mistreatment from
his agent who then failed to report further incidents, and he failed to check on
the lad himself. Then, as the boy's Headmaster, he's failed to see the signs of
abuse since Potter started at Hogwarts. The boy's far too thin for his age;
somebody should have noticed."

"Or it's been ignored."

"Or it's been ignored." Alastor agreed dryly.

Amelia sighed heavily. "You know what else bothers me."

"That he didn't know his Dad was a Hit Wizard?" Alastor suggested. "It bothered me,
I can tell you."

"Well, yes, that too," and Amelia, "but what I was referring to was something Brian
Cutter said to me about the new Lord Black."

Alastor's eyebrows shot up is his grizzled forehead. "A new Lord Black? And he's
hired Brian Cutter?"

She explained about the letter from Lord Black to Cutter, the meeting in
Cornelius's office, and saw that he got the political implications immediately;
Moody had never been stupid. "Cutter has a copy of the Potters' will and Sirius
Black was named, after the Longbottoms, as guardian." She put her glass down and
gazed at Alastor. "Albus Dumbledore took illegal custody of Harry Potter, placed
him with the muggles, and failed to ensure that one of the named guardians on the
will got a trial!"

"I can see how it doesn't look good, Amelia," Alastor admitted, "especially in
light of the fact that he didn't place Black in protective custody at Hogwarts
either, but I don't think Albus would deliberately keep a man in prison for twelve
years if he knew he was innocent."

"Not even for his vaunted Greater Good?" Amelia asked pointedly.
Alastor conceded that with a huff. "Admittedly, Albus can justify almost anything
to his greater good but not something unquestionably wrong. Keeping the boy behind
blood wards where he might be unsafe from his relatives, no. Keeping the boy behind
blood wards where he might be unloved, yes. Condemning an innocent man to Azkaban
for twelve years, no. Not stepping in to clear Black's name because Albus thinks
Potter will be safer where he is, maybe."

Amelia grimaced; the lines separating the statements Alastor had made into
acceptable and unacceptable were very thin but they were there. "You know him
better than me." She allowed.

"And knowing him, regardless of my belief that I don't think Albus would keep the
boy there if faced with all the evidence we have of the muggles' neglect of the
lad, I would advise you to get Potter's new guardianship situation sorted out
before Albus ever gets wind of it." Alastor said bluntly.

"Understood." And Amelia knew who she was going to call first.

o-O-o

Sirius reread the letter from Brian again. And again.

Completely cleared subject to Minister's signature.

Did Lord Black have a way to contact Sirius Black?

The Ministry wanted to know if Sirius Black would be prepared to assume immediate
guardianship of Harry Potter.

He read it again.

Remus impatiently plucked it out of his numb fingers and read it. "Padfoot! We did
it!" He slapped Sirius's back, jolting him forward. "Congratulations! Didn't I tell
you sending Bones round to the muggles would increase your chances to get custody
of Harry? You owe me five galleons! And don't think" he suddenly looked at Sirius
who hadn't moved. "Are you OK, Padfoot?"

No. Yes. He really had no idea. His emotions swung in a pendulum from crazed
happiness to complete astonishment to total fear that he was going to mess up with
Harry and what had he been thinking?

Sirius rubbed his forehead and dragged his mind back into focus. Harry. Harry.
Harry. He was doing this for Harry and it had worked. "Sorry," he said, realising
belatedly that Remus was regarding him worriedly, "just," he flapped a hand at him,
"surprised. I thought it would take more time or something."

"But you are pleased?" probed Remus carefully as though he was afraid Sirius would
explode or break or something.

"Beyond happy." Sirius confirmed. He took the parchment back. "I'll write back to
Brian. I guess it's time to come clean on my identity with him."

"Give me an introduction." Remus ordered. "I can liaise with him in future, and
Merlin knows I need to go over some legal stuff with him as your steward. Your
records are in a right mess."

"But I'm still rich, right?"

Remus sighed. "Let's just say you have enough to cover the five galleons you owe
me."

"What five galleons?" asked Sirius innocently.

Remus's eyes narrowed dangerously.