Disclaimer: I am a fan of Harry Potter like you all but I don't own it.

Still haven't got a slice of pumpkin pie yet either.

Chapter 4: Vanished

Albus Dumbledore kept his expression neutral as he tapped the podium with the Chief Warlock's scepter to signal the end of the three hour long Wizengamot meeting, then coolly watched as most of the other Lords and Ladies got up to begin filing out. Others idled about to talk with each other on the black marbled floors in hushed voices though some sounds of laughter from others sharing a joke echoed around the large chamber. The session had been long and arduous, the subject centered around one Harry Potter for the majority of the time.

Augusta Longbottom refused to drop the subject of the boy's whereabouts since she had been in the Leaky Cauldron, even going as far as sharing her memory with the rest of the council.

Dumbledore stopped paying attention to the others to gather up the notes so was caught by surprise by the 'hem hem.'

"Dumbledore, a moment of your time?" Minister Fudge asked while his Undersecretary, Madam Umbridge, gave Albus a smug smile from behind her employer.

"Cornelius," he greeted cordially with raised eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't have much time..."

"That's alright, I won't be long," the minister replied back with a wide politician smile. "Just a couple quick questions about The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Of course it was. Albus refrained from sighing, smiling instead, and brought the papers up to straighten them up on the podium. "Oh?" he asked with a politely curious expression, though he figured he knew what it was about.

"I understand your reasoning on why you do not want to divulge his location, but I thought I may have a word with his guardians," Fudge said as he pulled out his green bowler hat out from under his arm to clutch it in his hands. "See if they'd be willing to accept money to have him in my campaign. It would also allow the public to see that the boy is quite healthy."

"I do not think that is possible, Cornelius," the older wizard replied back. "As I said, his relatives are very private people that do not wish to be disturbed. Harry is also much too young to be subjected to politics, don't you think?"

Madam Umbridge let out a girlish squeal of laughter behind and upraised hand. "Now now, Chief Dumbledore," she simpered. "There is no such thing as too young!"

Fudge nodded an agreement with her. "He already has a public image, I could teach him to cultivate that!"

Fawkes from Dumbledore's shoulder glared down at the Minister, sensing its master's irritation. "I believe it best that he learn more about the magical culture before throwing him to the media sharks," he replied back disapprovingly causing Fudge's smile to falter briefly.

"But they love him!" he said back and smiled wider while waving his hat. "He has been missing for a decade. He's the savior of our world and should be-"

"No, Cornelius. When he's old enough to make the decision himself, we should allow him to. But he should have a proper childhood rather than get trotted about like a prized possession, don't you think?"

Umbridge took a step closer to the podium and smiled up at Dumbledore. "He is national property. If we have him on the Daily Prophet it could get rid of some of those nasty false rumors," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice and Fudge nodded an agreement.

Dumbledore shook his head no stubbornly and tucked the papers under his arm. "I'm afraid that his guardians simply will not approve and have requested that their location remain a secret," he said dismissively. "I must be off, however."

Fudge drew himself up and put his hat on. "Dumbledore, you cannot keep the boy protected from the press and this will only ruin your own image with all the secrecy," he said firmly, refusing to drop the issue. "I can make sure that everything goes away, though."

"I must respect the wishes of the boy's family. Tragedy has already struck them once before, and I wouldn't want to be accused of taking advantage of that." Fudge flinched at the subtle threat and Dumbledore took that moment to walk past them. "I'm sure Harry would love to support you as soon as he comes of age, Cornelius. No need to push for it now."

"Of course," the minister agreed reluctantly. "Good luck on the new term then, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore briskly made his way out of the chambers with an urgency that made others that calling out his name believe him to be too busy to stop. Normally he took his time and would converse with them before he left, but he did not want to stop and answer another question about Harry Potter. All of the purebloods in the chamber had been shocked by Augusta's memories because of the boy's reaction, and having seen it himself, Dumbledore knew there was no attention seeking behind it. The council had dictated that he must send a pair of aurors to the location to investigate what was happening there, though he did get them to agree that Vows could be used to keep the location from getting out.

He made his way straight for the DMLE offices on the same floor, walked past the auror desks, and knocked on Amelia Bone's office door.

"Come in," she called out in a short voice.

When Dumbledore opened the door, he could see her leafing through a lot of papers. A cup half filled with tea sat off to the side of her desk, and there were bags under her eyes. "Madam Bones," he greeted as he closed the door behind him.

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice and she frowned at him. "Dumbledore," she greeted and got right down to business. "You have not replied to a single owl I've sent in the past few days. Do you know how many letters I received because of that Prophet article?"

Dumbledore moved to take a seat. "That's why I'm here today," he replied back calmly and began to leaf through the papers he had brought. "I need a pair of your aurors to investigate the rumors to determine if the boy needs to be relocated or not. The Wizengamot was obsessed about it in today's session. Ah, here it is." He pulled out a paper and places it on her desk.

She frowned at the paper as she picked it up, then began to read it. "An Unbreakable Vow?" she asked as she glanced at him with an arched eyebrow and continued to read.

"We don't want anything leaking to the press," he explained. "If the claims are true, we can't have people taking out their anger on random muggles, of course. Not to mention things like curses and howlers sent to the boy's family while investigation is under way. We both also know that not all of the death eaters were rounded up."

She set the paper down and heaved out a sigh. "Still, isn't that extreme?" she asked. "I can't ask just any of my aurors to take an Unbreakable Vow."

"I was going to request that one of them be Kingsley Shacklebolt."

She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at him. "He's one of your Order members," she stated, then snorted at Dumbledore's surprised expression. "I know my people, no use in denying it. He's been coming and going to Hogwarts since the fiasco started."

Dumbledore's lips thinned briefly, then he leaned forward too. "Madam Bones, what I'm going to say needs to stay between us," he said, then waited until she gave him a curt nod. "I believe Voldemort has managed to resurrect himself."

He raised a hand after she gasped and continued before she could interrupt. "Hear me out. One of the things he did during the last war was to seek out immortality. I am not sure what Dark magic he used to achieve it... but there was no body at the scene. You can check the reports for that. Further, the robbery at Gringotts was over the Sorcerer's Stone, and the Dark Mark he used on his death eaters has come back in the last couple days."

Amelia Bones stared at him for a few seconds in shock after he finished with wide eyes, then she pursed her lips. "That would be the same time the fiasco started," she agreed. "I'll be looking over those reports, though, and having the prisoner's arms checked to verify your claim."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. "I wouldn't expect anything less," he agreed. "However, you can see why the boy's location needs to remain a secret? Most likely, if he's come back, then Harry will be the first target."

She gave a nod of agreement and looked off thoughtfully. "I'll be the second auror," she stated, then she turned to meet his eyes. "But if there is any truth to the claims of abuse, Dumbledore, you won't be getting away with it. I'll not be brushing it away, and without the muggles taking the blame, people will be out for your blood."

He shrugged. "It won't be the first time I've had bad publicity," he said dismissively. "Honestly, I suspect the boy is a bit underfed and hasn't had much love, but I doubt he was beaten or worse. They are the boy's family, Amelia."

"Albus, I've seen a few cases of what muggles have done to their children," she said with a frown. "Even you know a few students that have gone missing. Do you remember Stephen Jones?"

Fawkes shifted on Dumbledore's shoulder as he frowned while trying to recall the name. "Hmmm, he was pulled out during Christmas holidays by his family in his third year about five years ago," he replied back after a minute.

Amelia stared at him for a few seconds, then she leaned over to pull open the bottom drawer in her desk, then tossed a file on top. "And this is what happened a year after that,"she said grimly.

Dumbledore hesitated for a split second, then reached out to pick it up. He began to read the reports and his expression turned grim.

"Beaten until he could no longer move then left in the city dump to die," she stated brusquely. "His body was found three days later by the Scotland Yard. One of their people was part of their supernatural squad and recognized the wand that was close by, so he contacted us. We questioned the family."

Dumbledore looked a little green as he met her eyes. "It says here that they stated that they didn't want... their own child?"

"They didn't want a freak," she corrected grimly. "I admit, these occurrences don't happen often. About once every few years, although as I went back through the records it was more common to see about a century back. Some muggles see their own children as demons, freaks, non-humans, and monsters, then they take it upon themselves to rid the world of something unnatural like that."

Dumbledore closed the folder and set it back on the desk while Fawkes crooned softly into his ear. "I... He was a Hufflepuff. A gentle and quiet child."

Amelia nodded without looking away from Dumbledore's anguished eyes. "Because it doesn't happen often, because Hogwarts is outside of ministry control, because he was no longer a registered student, and because they are muggle born, these stories don't get out," she explained. "Don't get me wrong, most parents do care for their children. Some only neglect them and it doesn't go to this extreme. But this case is exactly why I will be going to the boy's house to do a thorough investigation. If I didn't, and something like this were to happen..."

Dumbledore pales and nodded. "Then it would get completely out of hand," he finished while envisioning things like babies and children being taken away from their families while the parents were obliviated, muggle hunting, and how his own reputation would never come back from something like that. His hand reached up to stroke Fawkes' feathers. "Be as thorough as you must, then. However, the boy's location must not get out."

She nodded an agreement. "And if the Dursleys are guilty?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

He paused mid-stroke down his familiar's back. "I... will leave that up to your call then, Madam Bones," he said with a sigh of defeat. "Only if there is a way to get it known to the public without persecution happening, however."

She snorted. "Last thing I need is an overworked department having to obliviate random muggles who have been targeted by outraged witches and wizards," she agreed. "I'll use Shacklebolt as my future in regards to my more private investigation about you-know-who as well. The Dursely's address, please?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Number four Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey," he informed her as he stood up. "I shall leave this in your capable hands."

She nodded back at him as she started writing a note out. "Good luck with the new school term," she said as he left her office.

Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt found themselves walking down Privet Drive with Notice-Me-Not charms on them an hour later. The lawns were all trimmed, the grass was green, the houses were all identical and they all had white picket fences.

"This is a little unnerving," the tall black man admitted to his superior as they stepped to the side to allow a group of playing children to run past them. "There's no color. Everything is the same! How do we know which is the right house when there are no differences?"

Amelia snorted in amusement at how nervous he was. "House numbers," she explained as she turned to continue down the road. "See? This one is eight. The other side of the street is odd numbers. The muggles don't name their properties like we do because there are so many buildings. They number them and go by street names instead."

He nodded thoughtfully and began to carefully observe his surroundings until she stopped to gesture to a house. "This is the one," she said and walked up the driveway.

Shacklebolt followed behind her and waited as she knocked. A minute later, the door was pulled open by a horse faced woman. "Yes, may I-" she started politely, then snarled, "You people!"

Amelia narrowed her eyes at the reception. "Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." she replied back coolly. "We have some questions for you, Mrs. Dursley."

Petunia went to slam the door shut but Kingsley flicked his wand to immobilize it. "Get off my property, you freaks!" she hissed after a couple attempts. "I don't have anything to do with you likes anymore!"

Amelia stared down at Petunia. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"The boy is no longer here, we gave him away a few hours ago," she replied back smugly.

Kingsley and Amelia exchanged shocked expressions. "What do you mean, gave him away?" he asked first as he took a step closer to the door. "What have you done with Harry Potter?!"

Petunia took a couple steps back when the tall man moved forward which allowed the two aurors to force their way inside. "Just that," she replied back spitefully. "Get out of my house before I call the police!"

Amelia laughed outright at the threat as Kingsley shut the door behind him. "We are the magical equivalent of the police," she explained to the muggle woman. "You could call them, but they know about us. We just have some questions we need answered. Where is Harry Potter now?"

Petunia pursed her lips for a moment as she debated about whether or not to answer, then she shrugged. "I don't know," she informed them in a matter-of-fact way. "A man came by a few hours back with custody papers which I signed. He said it would be filed by your ministry people and we would be left alone. So shouldn't you know?"

They both blinked in surprise. "Did you get a name?" Amelia pressed.

"No," Petunia replied back promptly. "He did suggest we find a new home, though. Said the wizarding world believed the boy's lies about abuse and that we'd be persecuted."

Amelia smiled in return though it held no humor. "He was right about that. May we look around your house for evidence of these allegations, Mrs. Dursley?" she asked politely.

Petunia drew herself up and put her hands on her hips. "No you may not," she said indignantly. "The boy already packed all of his things and left so there is nothing left here."

Amelia looked to Kingsley and nodded. He raised his wand and pointed it at Petunia as Amelia bared her teeth with a larger smile. "You are obstructing an investigation, Mrs. Dursley. Please step aside and allow us to search your home before we are forced to immobilize you."

Petunia kept her stance for another few seconds, but when Kingsley opened his mouth to stun her, she threw her hands up in surrender. "We're fine upstanding citizens," she protested as she moved to the side. "The boy was telling lies. We get phone calls from his school often since he causes so much trouble."

Amelia beckoned for her subordinate to start searching the house before she pulled a notepad out of her pocket to start questioning Petunia. "What kind of trouble?" she asked in a professional voice.

Petunia folded her arms across her chest and leaned up against the hallway wall as Kingsley moved past her to go upstairs first. "Well, he was found up on the roof one day," she explained. "Claimed the wind blew him up there! Another time, he dyed his teacher's hair blue."

Amelia nodded and she wrote. "Sounds like accidental magic," she agreed. "Was there ever any punishment?"

Petunia nodded and glanced up the stairs worriedly. "He's not going to do unnatural stuff up there, is he?" she asked distastefully.

Amelia looked up from her notes and pinned the other woman with her eyes. "He will do what's necessary to find out the truth of these allegations," she replied back coolly. "What was considered punishments when he did magic, Mrs. Dursley?"

Petunia narrowed her eyes. "We never beat the boy if that's the lies he's told," she stated primly. "We would send him to his room without dinner or give him extra chores. Figured if he kept himself busy, then he wouldn't have time to cause trouble. Didn't work very well, though."

Amelia paused after she finished writing and looked at the other woman. It didn't sound like she was lying, but it didn't sound like the full truth, either. "You can give me the full answers willingly, Mrs. Dursley, or we can force it out of you at a trial using potions," she started calmly, then her eyes and voice hardened. "That's not the whole truth. What. Were. The. Punishments?"

Petunia paled and swallowed hard. "That was it," she denied while shaking her head, but her eyes flickered over to the cupboard door down the hall.

Amelia caught that. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Petunia. "Open the door," she ordered, and when Petunia shook her head no, she shot her with a stinging hex.

Petunia yelped in pain then quickly backed to the cupboard. "We didn't have room," she explained while standing in front of the door with a heavy lock on it.

Amelia gritted her teeth. "Open it," she ordered again. "And don't make me tell you twice."

Petunia gave the wand pointed at her a fearful look then unlocked and opened the cupboard door. Amelia waved her wand so that Petunia would back away from it, then she moved over to look inside. "You kept a child in here?" she gasped as she looked into the tiny space with nothing but a cot, a thin blanket, some cleaning supplies, and spiderwebs.

Petunia gathered her nerves together and put her hands on her hips defiantly once again. "What would you have me do?" she hissed. "We didn't want the boy. His parents got themselves blown up and he was just left on our porch. Nobody asked us if we wanted to take him in, and we weren't going to deny our own child just to support something unnatural like you people."

Amelia stared as the hateful vitriol spewed out of Petunia's mouth, then she drew herself up. "Petunia Dursley, we will be taking you and your husband in for full questioning," she stated. "You can come willingly or you can come in ropes. Where is your husband?"

Kingsley's heave steps were heard coming down the stairs. "Amelia?" he called out before seeing her below him through the banister. "I saw no signs of another child's room. There was the master bedroom, another boy's room, a room filled with broken toys that looked fairly unused, and an unused guest room."

Amelia gestured to the cupboard door with her free hand. "That's because he lived in here," she replied back coldly without looking away from Petunia. "Where is your husband at, muggle."

"You can't take me! I'm not magical and don't answer to your ministry," she sneered back defiantly. "The man that took the boy earlier said I would be immune to your laws."

Amelia smiled coldly. "Well, as the paperwork for that hasn't gone through, but the paperwork for this investigation has, I am currently authorized to take you and your family into custody." A stream of ropes came out of the end of her wand to bind Petunia and she looked up at Kingsley. "Auror Shacklebolt, you are to remain on premise to collect the rest of the residents here, including the other child. When you obtain her husband, please place him in a separate cell. The boy will need to go to the children's department."

Petunia burst into tears as she struggled against her bindings. "Don't hurt my son!" she shouted. "He's a good boy and completely innocent!"

Amelia flicked her wand and levitated the woman up. "So was Harry Potter," she said coldly as she placed her hand on Petunia's shoulder then disapparated.

When Vernon came home an hour later, he was greeted with a stunning spell at the door by a tall black man in robes. Dudley, coming home thirty minutes later after hanging out with his gang at the park all day, was treated more gently with a sleeping spell.

By nightfall, the Dursleys were being questioned by the head of the DMLE under veritaserum. The story that unfolded that night wasn't anywhere as bad as the story of Stephen Jones, but it was still a terrible tale of neglect, starvation, and encouraged bullying.

Now Amelia had to search for the elusive adoption papers to find out where Harry Potter had disappeared to.

Teleporting was one of the worst sensations Harry had ever experienced in his life. Definitely not the worst, that award went to being stuck up in a tree all night when Aunt Marge's dog wouldn't let him come down, but it was still up there. He felt like he had been sucked through a tiny straw, and his stomach felt like it had come out of it turned upside down. As soon as he felt the checkered floor under his feet, he collapsed to his knees and threw up all over it.

"First time apparating?" asked the man who brought him to his new home with amusement. "Don't worry, the feeling will pass in a moment."

After a few heaves, his stomach did settle, and the mess on the floor abruptly vanished when he settled back on his heels to catch his break. Harry looked up in surprise to see the man take off his hat to reveal a bald head. "Uhm... sorry," he said meekly, hoping he wasn't in trouble.

The man looked down at him and quirked an eyebrow up. "It's fairly normal for most people to get sick after the first time they side-along apparate," he explained with a crooked smile. "Nasty piece of work, that aunt of yours. Wanted to hex her a few times."

Harry gave a small smile back and slowly got to his feet again, relieved that the man didn't seem upset that he threw up all over his floor. "She's... not so bad," he said, feeling the need to defend her actions. "She just doesn't like wizards I think. Or anything unnatural."

The man pointed the wand at his suit and wiggled it a few times to transfigure them back into robes as he shook his head. "You shouldn't defend the actions of people whose own actions condemn them, Harry," he chided gently. "They don't deserve your sympathy, not after everything they did. I'm Quirinus Quirrell. Didn't want to introduce myself to a muggle woman like her." He offered Harry his hand as he smiled down at him.

Harry gawked at the Quirrell's heavy robes before he took up the hand. "Harry Potter, but you already know," he said with a blush. "I uhm... thank you? For bringing me here?"

Quirrell chuckled with amusement then flicked his wand to levitate the trunk and Hedwig's cage up into the air. "Ah, I'm just doing as my employer requested," he said. "Though it's definitely a pleasure to have brought the savior of the wizarding world out of such a terrible house. My employer is the one who brought you, though. Follow me and I will show you your room for the night."

Harry nodded in confusion, then started to follow Quirrell, his trunk, and his owl. They went up a grand flight of stairs then walked along, Harry too scared to ask more questions, but he observed his surroundings. It appeared to be a large mansion, though most of the rooms they passed has sheets covering furniture and cobwebs hanging on the chandeliers and in the corners. Dust was so thick in some rooms that the carpet appeared brown rather than whatever colors it truly was. The halls they traveled were lit with old style gas lamps.

"My employer recently inherited this house," Quirrell explained in a smooth and cultured voice. "Just a couple days ago, as a matter of fact. He was thinking of selling it but decided against that when we saw what happened at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry stopped in his tracks and wrapped his arms around himself, mortified and feeling sick from anxiety. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to cause a fuss then," he whispered as he stared down at his feet. He saw Quirrell's black and shiny shoes stop and turn when the he turned to look at Harry.

"Harry, nobody is blaming you," Quirrell said gently. "You're not in trouble. We saw what happened. I'm a half blood, like you, but I was exposed to both worlds unlike you. I know abuse when I see it, Harry, and I informed my employer why you reacted the way you did."

Harry took a few deep breaths to calm down enough to look up at the gentle sounding wizard, half expecting an upraised hand to grab him up. Not seeing that, his nausea lessened slightly and he nodded to show that he was listening.

"You see, muggles and wizards treat their children very differently," he explained. "Those that grew up only knowing about the wizard world, they don't hear stories about abuse. Our children are the heirs to our houses and our familial magics. Some of the more traditional households might seem cold to their children on the outside, since showing affection publicly can be frowned on, but they are all treated well."

Harry gave Quirrell a skeptical look and he returned it with a chuckle. "It's true," he insisted. "See, we all have magic. It was explained to me that our very magic keeps us from hurting our own children. The only exception to that is if someone is insane." He shrugged. "That twists our magical cores into something unusual, and most people get destructive when that happens."

Harry shuffled in place causing a bit of dust to puff out of the carpet. It did reveal a burgundy color, not the brown that he thought it was. "What is a magical core?" he asked, holding his breath and hoping the question wouldn't anger the man.

Quirrell rubbed the top of his bald head with his free hand and smiled. "Well, that's technically something you'd learn in school," he started, then grinned. "It's complicated. But the most basic explanation is that it's the pool of magic inside of us wizards that allows us to cast spells. I'll answer more questions when we get to your room, okay?"

Harry smiled back and nodded an agreement then the two of them resumed their journey. "You'll be occupying the east wing second floor," he said. "The west wing third floor belongs to the master, and you are never to venture there uninvited. The first floor of the west wing is the dining room, the south wing is the kitchen, the east wing contains the ball room. This used to be an old muggle mansion, a squib in the master's family had inherited it, and the master in turn got it. A squib is someone born into a magical family that doesn't have magic. And here we are," he said as he gestured to several doors. "Pick out the room you'd like in this corridor. Each one should have a sitting room, a bedroom, and a bathing room. They'll all be dusty, but I'll clean that right up."

Harry hesitated, but at Quirrell's encouraging nod, he crept forward past the man to open the first door. The room wasn't lit, but the sun streamed through the dingy windows on the opposite wall to reveal a room with doors on the left and right walls, a large empty bookshelf, a solid looking desk, couches and a table in the center of the room that had sheets covering them, and a few other things under sheets he couldn't figure out. "This one is fine, Mr. Quirrell," Harry said.

Quirrell set down the trunk and owl with another flick of his wand then nudged the boy into the room. "Lumos. Come now, you have the pick out of five rooms. Properly look about, silly boy!" he said as he walked past Harry to fling open the bedroom door to shine the light inside. "We're going to need to get a couple house elves to get this place up to par."

"House elves?" Harry asked as he approached to look into the room. Inside was a king sized four poster bed, a smaller writing desk, another book shelf as well as more shelves for knickknacks, and two doors.

Quirrell walked into the room and tried to pull open the first door. "House elves are -alohamora- are little creatures that love to cook, clean, garden, and take care of our needs," he explained and continued tugging. "It's stuck, not locked." He tucked his wand into this robe, took the handle in both hands, then yanked. The door popped open causing a cloud of dust to puff out and the bald man to stumble back a few steps while Harry let out a sneeze. "Ah, let's see... a closet!" The wand revealed a large walk-in closet. Another wave of the wand with a muttered incantation and the cloud of dust clumped up into a decent sized dust bunny that fell to the floor. "Anyway, most purebloods have them. My master just came back to England from overseas and you should be meeting him sometime in the next few days."

Harry nodded from the doorway and watched as Quirrell made his way to the other door. "This should be the bathroom," he said, and the door opened up this time though it was creaky. "House elves can also do repairs to things like this. Come look. Most likely the master may want to do renovations. The bathing room, as well as everything else here, will end up what you would find in a wizard home rather than an outdated muggle house."

Harry made his way over to stand next to the chatty wizard that he was starting to get comfortable with. When he looked inside, he could see a large brass tub, tarnished with age, an old porcelain toilet that looked like it needed a new seat, and a sink. The wooden poles of the towel racks looked like they would need replacing, too, but... "This looks wonderful," Harry said with a large smile. "I really would be happy with this room, sir. It's more space than I think I'd ever need and I'm willing to help clean and cook and stuff with the house elves to earn my upkeep..." He trailed off when he caught Quirrell's pursed lips and his smile faded away as his voice did.

Quirrell raised both his eyebrows at the sudden expression of a kicked puppy that Harry had. "No, no, you're not in trouble," he reassured quickly. "It's that... well... we don't expect you to do that work. My master didn't go through the trouble of obtaining the paperwork to adopt you just to turn you into a mere servant, I'm sure." His lips twisted into a slightly cynical smile, but it was gone so fast that Harry thought it might just be the lighting. "No, he has other plans for you, but don't ask me what they are since he hasn't told me of them yet."

Harry nodded mutely while struggling with a sudden fear of the unknown since nothing good ever happened to him. "But... why?" he finally asked while looking away, wrapping his arms around himself once again.

Quirrell stood there struggling with himself quietly for several seconds. Before serving his master, he was a professor. He cared for his students, he enjoyed seeing how their eyes lit up when they learned something new. He wouldn't consider himself someone that loved kids, but seeing a child looking so vulnerable in front of him while knowing it was the Dark Lord himself that wanted him brought here... And he didn't know why. "That... is something I don't know, Harry," he finally replied sincerely.

Harry's hands tightened around his arms as he held himself. He was saved from the Dursley's house... but he had never felt more alone than at this moment. "Did your Master know my parents?" he asked quietly without looking up.

"You could say that," Quirrell answered back, then continued before Harry could ask him more uncomfortable questions. "I cannot give you the answers you seek, Harry. Those are more personal questions you should ask my Master. Or actually, it would be better if you let him tell you... he's not the kind of person you can just ask anything about."

Harry swallowed hard and nodded but stayed quiet so that he didn't risk tears. Don't ask questions. That was one of the main rules to survive around the Dursleys. The feeling of loneliness widened further.

"I can answer any questions about magic, wizards, and our world you may have though, Harry," Quirrell offered gently. "You aren't the first child that came to the wizarding world that didn't know anything about it. Muggles sometimes have a magical child though they themselves aren't magical, a phenomena that we've yet to answer the why of also."

Harry looked up and gave a nod with a small smile to show his gratitude. "How does magic work?" he asked.

Quirrell laughed and reached out to pat the top of Harry's messy hair. "That's the hardest question of all. You might as well ask how electricity or gravity works. Magic, too, is a force of energy. Our wands help channel our magical cores and the incantations are like commands. I'll give you some examples."

And so Quirinus Quirrell started teaching Harry basic magical theory while using cleaning spells in the same way he would try to instruct how electricity works to a wizard while turning appliances off and on. Harry grasped the basics of it relatively quickly and his fear and loneliness melted a little bit while watching the magic being shown to make room for the awe he felt.

A/N: Thanks again to everyone that's following and reviewing! Getting an email letting me know I gave a new fave/follower helps me not to forget that I have a project going on here. I am hoping the glasses I get in a couple days help alleviate the photophobia I have so that I can write out more chapters and maybe even start doing digital art again =)

Have chapter 5 about halfway written up =)