Chapter Seven: Breaking and Fixing

"I guess … I should get this over and done with, right?" Daisy murmured.

"That would be my advice. And I'll be there with you," Harry promised. "You won't have to do it alone."

They took the Portkey Dumbledore gave them, and arrived in a hallway somewhere. Harry didn't have much chance to wonder whose house it was before they were greeted with "BOY!"

As much as he wanted to grimace in dread, he kept his face neutral—he had to stay strong, for Daisy, or she'd be more frightened than she was already.

Vernon advanced, his face purple. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing two days ago. The remaining Dursleys appeared behind him, watching the scene.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said politely.

Vernon was just launching into a rant about Harry's freakishness being the cause of his family's homelessness, while Daisy shrank back and was practically trying to hide behind him, when the tirade was interrupted.

"Mr Dursley," came Remus' tired voice. Harry wondered how long someone with Remus' patience could spend with his uncle before he gave into temptation and cursed the man. "Harry can no longer live with you, so I believe the fact that he has bothered to come here at all shows that he actually cares enough to make sure you are all right."

"No he doesn't," Vernon growled. "He just wants to make sure our deaths won't be on his conscience!"

"Well," Remus said, even quieter, "whose fault is that?" After a moment he said in a normal tone, "Harry, why are you here?"

"Daisy," Harry said, nodding at her. The others in the room all craned their necks, surprise on their faces, having not noticed her before. "Go on."

Her hand tightened painfully on his, and he squeezed it gently, trying to smile encouragingly. "Don't worry, I'm right here. So's Remus, and he's allowed to use a wand on them."

"Not helping, Harry," Remus muttered as the other three Dursleys blanched, and Dudley edged further away.

Daisy took a deep breath. "M-Mum … D-Dad … I …" She swallowed.

"Yes?" Petunia said, not impatiently but without any gentleness.

"I-I-I … got a—a H-Hogwarts letter."

A stunned silence fell in the room. Remus got over his surprise quickest, and smiled reassuringly at Daisy. Dudley was the one to break the silence.

"No way. Now I've got one of those freaks for a sister too?"

Daisy flinched, and Harry glared at his other cousin. "Dudley, shut up. She's not a freak."

Petunia looked as if she were about to faint. "No … no … no, not possible … no daughter of mine …"

Vernon's face, which had already been beetroot, was now contorting violently. Harry hadn't thought it was possible for his uncle to look any uglier. "YOU!" he finally burst out, slamming his fist down on the hall table so hard it broke. Remus drew his wand but Vernon either didn't see or ignored it. "BOY! YOU'VE CONTAMINATED MY HOUSEHOLD, MY FAMILY! GET OUT, GET AWAY FROM US, YOU FR—"

"MR DURSLEY, THAT WILL DO!" Remus yelled, and sparks flew from his wand. All three Dursleys flinched, and Vernon fell silent, though it looked a painful effort. "Mr Dursley," Remus continued, a lot more calmly, "I am afraid that is not how it works. Your daughter —"

"She's no daughter of mine," Vernon spat.

At these words, Petunia did faint. Dudley only glared harder at Harry and Daisy, hands clenched into fists.

"Harry," Remus said quietly, "perhaps the two of you should leave."

"Yes," Vernon snarled, looking not just at Harry but at Daisy too. "Leave and never come back!"

Daisy, pale and shaking from head to foot, clung onto Harry as he activated the Portkey, and the scene disappeared as they were transported back to the Hog's Head.

Minerva put down her book and sighed, staring longingly at the crack in the curtains that let in a sliver of mid-afternoon sun. As a vampire, she was not overly fond of the sun, always donning a wide-brimmed hat of some description when she stepped outside, but she loved summer evenings—and one was drawing nearer, taunting her. Despite the pain and exhaustion she still endured from the attack, she longed to be outside, to fly. But it would be days before that was possible, and in the meantime, she was stuck in bed, with far too many unpleasant thoughts battling for supremacy in her mind.

Teasel Ferre was thankfully much lower down on her list of worries, even now Albus had broken to her the fact that she'd proposed to him numerous times. Unfortunately that was because the newer worries were more serious. Minerva wished jealousy of a colleague was her biggest problem.

But no. She was still smarting internally over her sister's actions; the rejection, after all these years, hurt a lot more than even the Silver Flames had. But even this paled in comparison to her two biggest concerns.

Tom Riddle had broken into her mind—she had been afraid of the event occurring for years, but thought the fears irrational, as one of the few benefits of being a vampire were the natural defences around thoughts and memories. It was only this reason that had prevented her from demanding Albus teach her Occlumency. Merlin only knew how long he had been working at chipping away at hers. If he had done it once—within the Privet Drive wards at that, and bringing them down with his entry—then he could certainly do it again. Minerva suddenly felt very vulnerable.

But her biggest worry was Harry. Minerva hadn't been exaggerating when she had said she would have advised Harry to go into hiding. In fact if it weren't for the prophecy, she might still have been seriously considering it. The wizarding world didn't like vampires at the best of times, but for a celebrity such as Harry to be revealed as one—he had never before known shunning like he would experience then.

As long as nobody knew, he should be all right. But if anyone found out … Minerva couldn't help but be frightened for her student; probably a lot more so than he was. She had lived for half a century knowing the penalty for stepping out of line. In fact, she had probably been lucky last year that Dolores Umbridge had never tried to charge her with anything. For Harry, it probably hadn't sunk in yet. Minerva knew she had a temper, that on occasions had got the best of her—Albus had rebuked her out of anxiety on more than one occasion—but she knew Harry's was, if not equal to hers, then greater. Again, Umbridge was a case in point.

Minerva had almost never been so happy to see Albus as the moment he poked his head around the door, breaking her train of thought. "Ah, you are awake. Would you like something to eat, my dear?"

"I'd like someone to talk to," Minerva grumbled. "I can't concentrate on reading with everything on my mind."

He smiled at her. "Of course. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you further about Harry and Daisy."

Minerva sighed. One more worry. "I don't know, Albus. I don't have any ideas."

"No," he murmured, coming in and sitting with her. "Me neither; that is what worries me. I wish I knew what to do."

In the next room, there was a thump of something falling to the floor. Albus raised his eyebrows. "Do you think that's Harry back?"

"How should I know? Go and look; you're the one who can walk around." Minerva gave him a push, and he chuckled as he stood and left the room.

Daisy crumpled to the floor as soon as they arrived, and didn't bother to try and get up again, dissolving into sobs. Harry knelt down next to her and pulled her close, hugging her as tightly as he could. He had some idea of how she was feeling, having once longed for the Dursleys' approval and acceptance—the difference between them was, he had given up a long time ago.

"Shhh," he murmured, kissing the top of her red-blonde waves. "It's okay; it'll be okay, I promise." He didn't know how, but he didn't know what else to say.

The door opened, and Dumbledore looked in. "I thought I heard you come—ah," he said, spotting the weeping Daisy. "Can I assume that they weren't very receptive to the idea of going to Hogwarts?"

"Actually, sir, they disowned her," Harry said quietly.

Daisy clutched Harry, if possible, even tighter, and Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Oh." The surprise was quickly taken over by sympathy. "Oh, my dear child, I am so sorry."

"I-I c-can't believe … M-Mum and D-Dad … wh-what's g-going t-t-to hap-pen to m-me now?" Daisy hiccupped. Dumbledore drew out a handkerchief and passed it to Harry, who gently wiped her cheeks.

"You're staying with me," Harry said firmly. There was no question of it in his mind; he would take the Ministry of Magic to court if he had to, and if they refused he would do as Professor McGonagall had suggested and change his identity. Nothing was too extreme. "I'll look after you."

He had almost forgotten Dumbledore's presence; the man cleared his throat hesitantly. "Er, Harry, you are not even sixteen yet—"

Harry fixed Dumbledore with a glare. "I don't care. She's my family."

Dumbledore chuckled at the look on his face. "Actually, if you had let me finish Harry, what I was going to say was that you cannot be a legal guardian until you are of age, however, I am sure that wherever you live in the meantime, we can accommodate Daisy as well. Nobody will be splitting you up, I promise."

Harry blinked. "Oh," he said, now feeling rather foolish. He had been leaping to conclusions again. Maybe he had just learned to expect opposition in everything he did. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome." He smiled kindly at Daisy, who had stopped crying now and was just slumped in her cousin's arms, looking torn between miserable and relieved. "You know, child, Minerva was disowned as well. She understands what you're going through; I think talking to her may be beneficial."

Daisy hesitated, and looked up at Harry. He nodded firmly.

"Okay," she said in a small voice. "Can I do it now?"

"Of course."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Harry asked.

After a moment's thought, Daisy shook her head. "It's okay, Harry. I'll see you in a bit. Thank you."

A silence fell in the room after Daisy had gone next door. After a moment, Dumbledore broke it. "Harry, I believe I have a plan for yours and Daisy's living arrangements—that is, if you are both receptive to it."

"What is it?"

"Well, I have been wondering how to produce the strongest possible protection for you. Blood magic is always the strongest, and since Minerva Turned you, the two of you now have a magical bond—one that is only made stronger by the fact that, if I am not much mistaken, you two had an emotional bond before the event."

"Er … emotional bond?" Harry queried.

"You cared for her, did you not? More than just as a teacher, I mean."

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted.

"Precisely. And I know for a fact that she cared for you. The bond that forms is based on those feelings, and ties you together forever. That blood magic is built on the same premise as your mother's sacrifice: love. And makes it just as strong."

"So …" Harry twigged what Dumbledore was getting at. "You're suggesting I—we—live with Professor McGonagall? Er … does she know you're suggesting this?"

He received a chuckle in response. "I am suggesting you live with us, and yes I did discuss it with Minerva, although I knew what her answer would be before I asked. You're important to both of us, Harry. And I don't just mean because you're the Boy Who Lived," Dumbledore added quickly, as if he realised how Harry might take that statement.

"Us? You mean, you two are …"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "And here I thought someone with your curiosity would have worked it out long ago. Minerva and I are a couple, yes."

"Oh!"

"You didn't wonder why we were living together?"

"Well," Harry said, "since it was an inn … I just assumed it was a convenient place for you both to stay."

"Oh … now you mention it, I suppose it could look that way. But no, we do actually live here during the holidays, at least while Voldemort is around. When he's not, we usually travel."

"Oh, right. So, are you two married?"

"Not technically; she's my mate." At Harry's confused look, Dumbledore elaborated. "That is the vampire equivalent of marriage. I take it Minerva hasn't talked about relationships with you yet?"

"No."

"Ah. Well, you had better remind her."

"I will." Harry turned the conversation over in his head. Living in the Hog's Head, with the Dumbledores and Professor McGonagall?

Well, it certainly beat the Dursleys. "I'm in, Professor," he said. "About living with you guys, I mean. I'll have to run it past Daisy, but I think she likes it here, so there shouldn't be a problem."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said happily. "In which case, forget the 'Professor'. It's Albus."

TBC …