Potter's Army Chapter 4: The Post Elf, a harry potter fanfic

Potter's Army

Summary:

AU. The last of Potters army: the Golden trio, the twins, Ginny, Draco, Luna and Neville are accidentally sent back to their infant bodies after the fall of Hogwarts. Harry gets the shock of a lifetime. HG.

A/N

Well so much for once a week : )

Sorry but I began writing another story, something which I shouldn't have done but couldn't be helped. It's not up yet, I'm still working on it but in the meantime here's the next chapter of Potter's Army.

Anyway sorry for the wait, I don't own anything you recognise, and now on with the story…

12th of December, 1983

Thock, thock, pause.

In south-western England, in Wiltshire, a handsome manor house stood surrounded by grand and manicured grounds. Inside one of the rooms towards the back of the house, was a large an exquisite rumpus room, with high ornate ceilings made of marble, and rich guided furnishings. Two black, leather lounges faced a magnificent fireplace, currently cold as it was the middle of the morning. The early light of the sun struggled through the clouds to shine through the long windows, as if trying to bring some weak warmth to the aloofness of the room. It had an overall feeling of expense and nobility to it, but also loneliness. The silence was overbearing, but when there was a sound, it echoed throughout the entire mansion.

Thock, thock, pause

The Lord of the manor had left for work at the ministry two hours ago; the Lady had been invited to a social get-together for morning tea. Unfortunately no children were allowed so the young master of the house had been left home in the care of the house-elf.

Thock, thock, pause.

This young child of three and a half was sitting on the floor behind one of the leather lounges, facing one of the marble plated walls. The child was dressed in green silk sleeping clothes, and had blonde hair had grown just past his ears. He was barefoot, but seemed not to notice his small, pale feet on the cold floor. Every ounce of his being oozed boredom as he repeatedly threw a small silver ball, bouncing it off the floor, to the wall, catching it, and throwing it once more.

Thock, thock, pause.

Draco Malfoy was utterly sick of being a tiny child. He was tired of being treated like a baby; he was angry at being weak, annoyed of being small, frustrated, bored, and to top it all off, he was lonely.

It sounded strange seeing as he'd grown up the first time as an only child, and been perfectly fine with it. But before that day in the Great Hall when his life had been turned upside down, he had spent nearly a year surrounded by people at all times. The crew of Potter's Army had all come to rely on each other, they were more than Draco's friends, they were practically his brothers and sisters. The siblings he'd never had, the friends he'd never even imagined someone could have.

Thock, thock, pause.

Draco snorted as he mused and threw the ball once more, who would've thought that Potter, Golden-Gryffindor-boy-who-bloody-wouldn't-die-Potter would actually be his best friend? Not to mention the Weasel clan, Longbottom, Looney Lovegood and a Mudblood of all people! But Draco's whole perceptive of things had turned around the day he refused to murder Albus Dumbledore, the day he had turned sides just like his favourite Slytherin professor. He had learnt that how much money you had in your pocket, could never buy you real friends. Learnt to appreciate other people, and that their outward appearance meant nothing. With Hermione, while Draco still believe he had higher status in society then her, it didn't mean she deserve to die over it. She was a person too, and admittedly a very clever one at that. Having friends had changed Draco, and to suddenly have them taken away like that, it was absolute torture.

Thock, thock, pause.

Not that I don't enjoy being with my family again. Despite being supporters of Voldemort, they really weren't that bad as parents go. They did care for him and Draco had missed them when he'd changed sides. But his Father had never really been the same since he was caught and taken to Azkaban at the end of Draco's fifth year. His Mother had been terrified that Voldemort's plan would be the end of her son, and had worried constantly for both the males of the Malfoy house. Neither of his parents had ever wanted their son to become a Death Eater, to experience torture, to inflict pain and to murder others, but they hadn't a choice in the matter if they wanted to stay alive. Really Voldemort had screwed up his life, and he'd be damned if he'd let it happen again. Draco determinedly decided that he'd do what ever it takes to stop the Dark Lord this time.

Thwack!

Draco accidentally miscalculated a throw and it hit the corner between the wall and the floor, bouncing off on a tangent, and finally rolling under the other black lounge. Draco slumped down, and let out an agitated breath glaring up at the ceiling as if it were its fault. He wondered for a moment if life was laughing at him, then shook the notion out of his head disgustedly. Merlin I'm as bad as Luna.

Groaning he thumped his head back into the lounge, and then did twice more for good measure. If he didn't find something to do soon, he was literally going to go mental. He had enjoyed this life at first, relaxing in the company of his family again, and not having the threat of war hanging over his head everyday. But now he just wished something would happen, there was only so much relaxation one could take after all.

He had tried to keep an eye on the news, and heard a lot of things that didn't make sense. Like Harvey Potter defeating the Dark Lord several months before it had happened last time, and Pettigrew's involvement in the twin Potter's kidnapping. Then later on he'd heard of Pettigrew's capture and imprisonment in Azkaban. In the months after the Dark Lord had fallen, the Death Eaters had been running around like headless chickens. Many of them had been caught including the Lestranges, Barty Crouch (Jr), Dolohov, Mulciber, and Rookwood, though some like Rosier, Wilkes and Travers had been killed by Aurors. His own Father had pleaded the Imperious Curse and managed to escape Azkaban along with a few other Death Eaters.

The Daily Prophet had news about the Aurors work, Caradoc Dearborn had been killed in the capture of the Lestranges, Auror Fenwick was murdered by Rosier when he tried to arrest him, and Moody had been seriously injured by Dolohov. Fortunately he had survived, but he had retired from his work as an Auror. Barty Crouch (Sr) also retired after his son had been arrested, and Amelia Bones took up the position of Head Auror.

"Is sir not feeling well?"

Draco shot up with a startled yell, scrambling away (rather undignified) on his hands and knees from the house-elf that had suddenly appeared next to him.

"Dobby! Don't do that!" Draco gasped, the shock still running through him. Dobby, the house-elf, was now watching him with simpering eyes big as bludgers, ears downcast and he wrung his hands distraughtly.

"Dobby apologises! Dobby is very sorry for scaring sir; Dobby is a bad, bad elf! Bad Dobby!" turning to the leather lounge he began to repeatedly bash his head against it, quite a bit harder then what Draco was doing.

Draco rolled his eyes at the elf's melodramatics and sighed lightly, he'd almost forgotten about Dobby. He hadn't really had much interaction with the elf, mostly because they were never really left alone together, but also because house-elves were trained not to be seen. He had been meaning to talk to Dobby though. Draco had seen what the house-elf was like when he was in the Hogwarts Hideout, and had been amazed at the difference freedom had made in him. Dobby at first had been afraid when he saw Draco at the Hideout, but Harry had quickly assured him that Draco had changed. Before this Draco had never given house-elves a second thought, and had treated them the same way his Father did. But it was hard to not start acting more civil to them when he had Granger nattering in his ear about 'house-elf rights'. While Draco thought that was absolute dragon dung he did begin to treat them less like servants and more like equals, besides they had helped Potter's Army hugely by suppling them with food. Without the elves they wouldn't have stood a chance.

Causally reaching forward Draco grasped the back of Dobby's dirty pillow-case… thing… and yanked it back, pulling Dobby away from the lounge and away from certain self-injury.

"Dobby," he said firmly, putting his face inches away from the house-elf. Dobby sniffed and opened his eyes fearfully, standing limply in Draco's grasp. Draco was suddenly struck with the realisation that he and Dobby were the same size; he scowled and was glad that Harry wasn't here to see this. His friend would be cracking his head off laughing. Turning his attention back to Dobby he noticed the house-elf cowering from him, and realised he was still scowling. Swiftly clearing his expression he started again.

"Dobby, under no circumstances are you to injure or hurt yourself as punishment in any way, understand?" Dobby just gawked at him, wide eyed and completely speechless – his jaw even went slightly slack. Too late, Draco realised that an ordinary three-year-old going on four, would never speak like that. Oh well he thought, mentally shrugging. Dobby was still gaping at him, and Draco refrained from rolling his eyes again. "Understand?" he repeated resolutely. Finally Dobby swallowed his surprise with a huge gulp and nodded his head fervently. "Good," and Draco let go and stepped back, narrowing his eyes slightly as he took in the house-elf before him.

He had never really noticed Dobby's presence last time he was young, but he had noticed the house-elf's absence after his second year. His father had been so angry that Harry had tricked him like that; his cold fury had even made him lose control over his magic, something that had not happened to the Malfoy lord in years. Draco had been amazed when Harry had recounted the story of Dobby to him one night in the Hideout. To think that this little elf had Apparated all the way to Surrey to warn Harry… wait… Apparated…Harry…DOBBY CAN APPARATE TO HARRY!

This sudden revelation crashed down on Draco, and he felt copying Dobby and banging his head against the lounge. It's so obvious, why haven't I thought of it before? Thoughts and plans started racing through Draco's mind, about what this new advantage could mean. He could write a note to Harry, find out if Potter was in the same situation as him, he could see if he was alone in this abnormal condition or if others were in the same state! Getting more excited by the second, he failed to notice Dobby's growing agitation and nervousness as Draco outwardly just continued to stare at the house-elf.

Finally a tentative, "Master Draco, sir…?" from Dobby brought Draco back to the present. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he cleared his throat, the excitement and the hope had rendered him speechless and he didn't trust his voice at the moment. How am I going to get Dobby to do as I say? I'll have to ask him really carefu… What am I thinking?! For a moment he'd completely forgotten that his situation; he didn't have to ask Dobby, he could just order him to do as he said. Back at the Hideout he always had to be polite to Dobby and ask him nicely to get him to do anything for him and… oh right I sill haven't answered the house-elf – note to self, 'Stop spacing out…'

"Dobby," he started, then hesitated thinking hard. A few seconds silence past.

"… yes, sir?" Dobby was watching him warily, still wringing his hands, but he was now backing away from Draco slowly, a look on his face that clearly said 'master is acting strange.' In any other circumstances Draco would have scowled and thought that was rich coming from the most mental house-elf in the Northern hemisphere, but as it was the Malfoy heir was too distracted.

"Wait here," Draco commanded and dashed out the room, leaving Dobby blinking dumbly behind the lounge.

Harry happily climbed the stairs in his house in Godric's Hollow. He never realised how much he loved walking before. The fact that he could put one foot in front of the other made him ridiculously proud and deliriously happy. Rather silly really… But Harry didn't care; he was seldom allowed to do anything by himself and nearly always had someone in the room with him, so it was a rare moment when he found himself alone.

As he walked up the stairs he paused to look at a family portrait that hung on the wall. It was the first one they had of the whole family, with Lily sitting in a chair holding a one-year-old Rose, James standing behind her proudly with his hands on her shoulders, and on either side of her stood Harry and Harvey. Rose was a gorgeous little girl with black curls that framed her baby blue eyes, she was smiling and gurgling happily and Harry watched as his Mum looked down at her lovingly before looking back out of the picture. He watched his Dad lean down and kiss Lily's hair, before raising a hand to ruffle his own. Harvey had the same shade of red hair as Mum but it was messier, he had hazel eyes and was a bit on the chubby side, but he didn't have to wear glasses. Harvey in real life could sometimes be very annoying and would throw a tantrum to get what he wanted, but in this photo he looked like a perfect angel. Harry then turned his attention to his three-year-old self, watching as the boy looked around at his family with a huge grin, before laying his head on his Mum's shoulder which was just the right height. Lily had thought he looked adorable when she saw the portrait, which made Harry feel slightly mortified.

Coming back to himself, he turned away from the portrait and continued up the stairs. The Potter house was actually pretty big, and Harry had gotten his own room from Harvey's just last month, something he was eternally grateful for. He had worried that he would have to share with his twin for his whole childhood much like Fred and George had done. Not that he didn't love his brother, Harry loved all his family because they were just that; Family. But honestly he didn't think he could stand to share a room with a three-year-old for much longer. His new bedroom was simple enough, but at least three times bigger then his old bedroom at the Dursley's. Dark green carpet covered the floor, and light blue wallpaper was on the walls. James was a bit of a Quidditch fanatic and had charmed the wallpaper to have Puddlemere United (he supports them) players fly around. But Harry loved the ceiling the best, his mother had charmed it to act like the night sky outside, showing the stars and the moon at night.

With an easy sigh, Harry opened the door to his bedroom and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. Running a hand through his hair and yawning, he turned to fall onto his bed, and froze.

There was already someone on it.

Someone with large, bat-like ears and green eyes the size of tennis balls.

Harry had a strange sense of deja vu.

"D-Dobby?" he finally choked in amazement. Dobby's eyes bulged and he hoped off the bed trembling on the floor.

"Sir knows Dobby's name! Sir knows who Dobby is!" the house-elf squeaked, somewhat loudly. Fearing someone would come up in to check what all the noise was about; Harry quickly hurried to hush his house-elf friend.

"Shh, Dobby, please be quiet… and stand up."

Dobby opened his eyes and hesitantly stood up, shoulders still hunched over as he wrung his hands nervously and gazed wide-eyed at Harry. Harry abruptly realised that Dobby was the same height as him. Damn, why am I always so small? He was glad none of his friends were here to see this; Draco would probably crack himself laughing. Wait… Draco! Dobby is still the Malfoy's house-elf, so does that mean that Draco is…

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry whispered, keeping one eye on the door, expecting someone to walk in at any moment.

"Sir, Dobby was sent by Master Draco sir, Dobby is to give Harry Potter sir a message, sir."

Harry blinked, how many sirs was that? Then the actual words sunk in.

"Message? What message?"

"This one sir," and Dobby pulled out a thin envelope from inside the pillowcase he was wearing, and offered it to Harry.

"Err… thanks, Dobby." Harry said turning the letter over in his hands, one word was written on the outside, 'Harry'.

Unfortunately he'd forgotten what Dobby was like before he was freed, and much to his horror the elf burst into very noisy tears.

"Dobby has never been thanked by a wizard before – like an equal –"

Aw, crap! Harry panicked; someone was defiantly going to hear this.

"Shh, Dobby please be quiet," he tried to shush the bawling creature. A thump from downstairs made Harry's heart beat even faster. "Dobby, I swear if you don't shut up right now…"

"Dobby is sorry sir, Dobby will try," the house-elf gave a soggy sniff, using his arm to wipe his nose and eyes. Harry was silent for a few moments, listening hard for any sounds downstairs. Luckily there wasn't any. Heaving a sigh of relief he turned back to the letter in his hand.

Ripping it open he pulled out a piece of parchment, curiously reading the messily scrawled writing.

Potter,

If you can read this,

Write back straight away

Or are you too famous to reply?

Harry felt a grin spread across his face, yep definitely Malfoy. He quickly looked around his room for something to write with, unfortunately another problem with being a three-year-old was that they don't usually have quills with them seeing as they can't write, and there was no way he would have any ink in his room. The closest thing he had to any writing instrument was a box of hexters, these were a bit like muggle texters but you just touched them to the parchment, imagined what you wanted drawn; and wallah! Unfortunately that was the full extent of their abilities; they were unable to write words.

Damn, I'll have to go downstairs to the study.

"Wait here," he told Dobby firmly, then rushed back out the room, and the house-elf was left blinking behind for the second time that day.

Dobby 'popped' back into the Malfoy Manor, where he was practically attacked by Draco.

"Was it him?! Did you give it to Harry? Did he write back? What did he say?!" he shook the house-elf's shoulders desperately.

"Master, Dobby did as sir ordered! Dobby has Harry Potter's reply!"

Draco!

Merlin I'm glad to hear from you

It's been a while, hasn't it?

And I'm not famous, or haven't you heard

Harvey's the Boy-who-lived

My supposed brother.

Quickly scribbling a reply he sent Dobby on his way again.

Harry waited anxiously in his room, impatient for the house-elf to return. Seeing Dobby like that had been so out of the blue that Harry almost had to convince himself that it had happened, and that he wasn't really just dreaming. Inside he was cheering his friend's brilliance of using Dobby to communicate, and he wondered if they could reach their other friends in this way too. Then suddenly Dobby was back, and with another message from Malfoy.

It hasn't been "a while", it's been years

What the hell is going on Harry?

One minute we're in the Great Hall

The next it's bloody 1981.

And yes I heard about Harvey Potter,

The new Boy-Who-Lived

What's the matter, got tired of being famous did you?

And don't try and tell me you had nothing to do with it,

I bet you did something stupid and nearly got killed again,

Bloody Gryffindors.

Harry laughed when he reached the end, then turned to the new role of parchment, quills and inkpots he had piled on his bed. He had smothered them up from the study; hopefully no one would notice they were missing before he could return them. Today both his Mum and his Dad were working. They usually tried to get different shifts so at least one of them could stay home with their kids, but they both had to work on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

Sirius was luckily able to change his shift to allow him to have Thursdays off, so he was able to baby-sit that day, and Remus looked after the Potter children on Wednesdays. Today Remus was the guardian adult and he was currently in the living room, half reading, and half keeping an eye on Rose. Harvey was still asleep.

Grasping his quill firmly, Harry began to write laboriously again, his small hands made it difficult to write, and he now had ink staining his fingers.

Alright I won't deny I had something to do with it

But Harvey isn't really the Boy-Who-Lived

I still am,

The Wizarding world got it wrong.

And in my defence I did have a plan of sorts

It just went horribly wrong.

In fact I have no idea how I'm still alive

I should have died that night, but I didn't.

I have no idea what's going on

Or how we came to be here

Though obviously it's something to do with the

Enchanted Ceiling exploding.

Hermione will probably know more then me

But I'll have to talk with her first

I don't even know how many of us are here.

I know Neville is and now you,

Do you know of anyone else?

Maybe we can use Dobby to send a message to Hermione

And to the Weasleys too

I think they had something to do with Pettigrew's capture

But I'm not sure.

Harry

Harry frowned at the message, it was rather long but that couldn't be helped. It was the first time he'd been able to have a proper conversation with someone, something he had been greatly craving for sometime now. When the news of Pettigrew's arrest got back to him, he had desperately hoped that the Weasley children had something to do with it. Harry knew that the rat's capture might have been pure chance, but he wanted to believe that it was his friends doing, because that would mean they were here with him. Harry had some trepidation in finding out that this was untrue, he knew if it was false his friendship with Ron and the twins would never be the same, but dreaded it more so with Ginny as then he couldn't be with her.

Harry missed the fiery red-head dearly, so much that it almost hurt. She had been there for him constantly in the Hideout, and he for her, and it was only now that he was separated from her that he realised just how much he loved her. Harry didn't want to even begin to imagine what his life would be like without her. He dreaded that she wasn't here, but really was just a two-year-old child and not His Ginny at all. So he pushed all thoughts of the Weasleys away until he knew for sure, but the nightmares didn't help. It didn't seem to matter how much time past; in his dreams he remembered his past-life as if it had happened yesterday. He saw the faces of the fallen, felt the pain all over again, and watched helplessly as Voldemort struck down those he loved and laughed at the Boy-Who-Lived. His dreams didn't allow him to forget.

Draco didn't know of anyone else, but he did give permission for Harry to send messages to their other friends. Dobby was only too happy to oblige, he had giggled (yes giggled) that he hadn't had so much fun in years. The house-elf didn't really understand what was going on, but then it wasn't an elf's place to question its master. Draco had impressed on Dobby the importance of not being seen by anyone else, of obeying Harry as well as himself, and above all of not telling anyone what they were doing. 'Especially my parents.'

So it was at the end of a few hours of tedious writing and of Dobby playing 'The Post-Elf', Harry had three more replies lying on his bed.

From the Weasleys –

HARRY!

We're so glad your okay

We weren't sure when we heard about Harvey

And the fact that you're a twin like us.

Harry, this is Ron, we met your Dad and Sirius by the way

We thought your Dad was you for a moment

Yeah but at least our plan worked with Pettigrew

(Yeah that was us)

Shut up Fred, I'm writing.

Ginny says 'Hi' and that she misses you

We all do really, its bloody awful being a three-year-old.

Speak for yourself, being five is the best

Yeah we can get away with anything

Talking of getting away with anything

How'd you pull off the whole 'brother of the Boy-Who-Lived' thing?

Never mind that, I want to know why we are here in the first place!

Well obviously, ickle Ronniekins, it's because of the Ceiling at Hogwarts

Don't call me that! Ignore them Harry,

I think being five-years-old again has warped their brains.

Hey you'll never believe it but our uncles; Fabian and Gideon

You know Mum's older brothers

They're alive!

And thanks to you it seems

Yeah, we think it's because Voldemort was defeated earlier this time

Anyway did you manage to get in contact with Hermione?

I know you said you talked to Malfoy

But what about Neville or Luna?

We'll have to organise to meet someday

Though we don't know when

Because most of you are only three years old

And Ginny and Luna are only two

Then there's the problem of our parents too

We'll try and work something out

Ron, Ginny, Fred and George.

A letter from Neville –

Hey Harry

Good to hear from you

I'm happy I'm not the only one here.

I can't believe we went back in time!

And my parents are here with me

You have no idea how great it is to have a family…

Oh wait, maybe you do.

I'm glad to hear about Draco and the Weasleys

Do you know about Luna yet?

Not that I don't care about Hermione of course

I'm worried about her too, and everyone else.

Yeah, right, so anyway tell me when you find out about her

Thanks

Neville

The letter from Hermione made Harry smile, (it was written in crayon) –

Harry, oh my gosh it's so good to hear from you

You have no idea what is its like for me here

Being stuck in the muggle world means I had no idea what's going on.

So you saved your family, that's great!

And Ron and the others managed to catch Pettigrew

And Neville has his parents

It seems like everything's good, except that we are all really young.

I can't believe what happened, going back in time like that,

I thought we were done with time travel in our third year

But this time it's different because we are actually in our younger bodies.

It was definitely the Enchanted Ceiling that did this,

The dragon must have made the magic unstable

And the raw magic of the explosion caused us to go back in time

Unfortunately I don't think we can ever get back,

Without growing up of course.

Then again it might not be so bad if we can change things.

I know you saved your family and all Harry

But that plan of yours on your birthday was extremely reckless

You could have easily died

As to why you didn't die, I think I have an idea

But I'll have to do some research first.

In the meantime your brother is the Boy-Who-Lived

I'm sure you can do without the fame anyway.

Sorry but I'm running out of crayon here (don't you laugh Harry Potter)

We should try and organise for all of us to meet

Regrettably we will probably have to wait for a bit longer

Until we are older,

Enough that we don't have to be watched twenty-four hours a day by adults.

I can't wait to see everyone again, say Hello from me.

Hermione

Unfortunately Luna couldn't write back because she was only two-years-old, but using Dobby they did find out that she was their Luna. Harry was ecstatic to finally hear from all his friends, and he was thrilled to hear about everyone's news. If things kept going like this they would win the war for sure. There was only one part of the letters that made him pause and think.

"In the meantime your brother is the Boy-Who-Lived," Hermione had wrote.

When Harry first read it, it almost sounded like Hermione wasn't surprised that he had a brother. But that was impossible, he didn't have a brother in his other life, she probably had just accepted it… yeah that was it… But Harry couldn't help the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he was missing something.

31st of July, 1984

"Hurry up they'll be here soon!" Lily yelled at her husband as she frantically put the finishing touches on the cake. It was Harry and Harvey's fourth birthday and everyone was rushing about with the preparations for the celebration. Lily had made a huge triple layer cake with red and gold icing that sparkled, and the words 'HAPPY BIRHTDAY!' were written on a plark.

James and Sirius were supposed to be helping with the decorations, but were currently having fun with the helium balloons. Sucking in large amounts of the gas and then talking to each other and to Harvey, whom was shrieking with laughter at the funny voices. Remus was conjuring chairs for the party guests, and also keeping an eye on two-year-old Rose for Lily.

Harry was upstairs putting on his new emerald green robes that Lily had laid out for him. He looked at himself in the mirror, and couldn't stop the broad grin that spread across his face. It was nice to have clothes that fit him, but he still couldn't get over his reflection. The small, cute, little four-year-old boy in the mirror grinned and waved back at him cheekily. Harry finally turned away, shaking his head in amazement. Leaving the room, it was all he could do not to jump and run and shout for joy. Not because it was his birthday, no, because of who had been invited to it. The Longbottoms were coming, and with them would come their son Neville. After three years, Harry would finally get to see one of his friends.

It hadn't been hard for Harry to convince his parents to invite Neville; he had just moped around until someone noticed he was unhappy. Then he had told them that he was lonely and wanted someone his own age to come to the birthday party. Not two hours later he had been informed that 'The Longbottom family are coming and they have a son just your age!' Harry beamed at his parents, thanked them, hugged them and skipped off to play outside, singing merrily. (Not really, but he had been really happy about it).

Bouncing down the stairs and into the decorated living room, he looked around cheerfully at his family and at the room. It really did look good, the comfortable furniture and coffee table had been moved against the walls, leaving an open space in the middle. Coloured streamers and balloons decorated the room, giving it a festive feeling, and delicious smells were wafting from the kitchen.

Apart from the fact that Harvey was famous, they were a normal loving family. His parents cared for him and Rose just as much as they did for Harvey; it was just the fact that the red-head boy was famous that caused any difference. People were always asking about Harvey, wanting to see him, or take a photo, and his parents always had to try and deal with that. So in public it was always a little different than in private, but Harry guessed that was to be expected.

He certainly wasn't jealous of Harvey; he definitely didn't miss the attention the 'Boy-Who-Lived' got. He was completely fine with being 'Just Harry' and finally having what he always wanted, a normal life, a normal family that was alive and well and around him everyday. And it'll stay that way. No way am going to let Voldemort or anyone else hurt my family again. I'll protect them this time around with everything I've got.

His parents were worried though, the other day Harry had overheard a conversation between Lily and James when they had thought he was asleep. Lily was worried about the future, and the attention that Harvey would get. His Mum worried that he, Harry, would grow to be resentful of his twin and the fame as he got older. Harry couldn't help the smile that had spread over his face at that, since he knew it would never happen. His parents loved him and cared for him, and that was more than enough for harry. He still woke up to Lily's cooking and went to bed after she'd hugged him and his brother. James would ruffle Harry's hair as he walked past, even though he knew his son hated it. His Mum and Dad, Sirius and Remus bought him birthday and Christmas presents, of course the rest of the Wizarding world only bought Harvey presents, but Harry had never been a fan of attention and really didn't care.

A wail brought him back to reality with a jolt. The noise was coming over from where a flustered looking Remus who was gently rocking a crying Rose in her baby chair, trying to get her to quiet down.

"Shh… Rose… shh… what's wrong?"

Harry rolled his eyes; Remus hadn't noticed Rose's doll had fallen onto the floor. He walked over and picked it up.

"Hi Uncle Moony!" Harry said smiling at his young looking mentor. Remus half-turned and smiled tiredly at him.

"Hey Harry, Happy Birthday cub."

"Thanks!" Harry leaned over Rose's chair, waving the doll in front of her. Rose stopped crying and her face lit up.

"Hawwy!" she exclaimed happily, then grabbed the doll and began to chew its nose.

Remus sighed gratefully and stood up straight, smiling wider now.

"Phew, thanks Harry." He surveyed the room, taking in its transformation, before looking back down at Harry, "So looking forward to the party Harry?"

"Oh yes, very much," Harry said sincerely.

"You're going to love what your parents get you and Harvey." There was a table against the wall with a few presents stacked up, of course it would soon fill up completely as the other guests arrived.

Time dragged on for Harry, he glanced at the clock every few minutes, willing it to go faster. After about half an hour of this people began to arrive, some Apparating outside, some Flooing over, and some even took a port-key. Nearly everyone from the Order came; as well as some Auror friends of James and Sirius. Amos Diggory and his wife and son came; it had been a shock to see a seven-year-old Cedric. Some of Lily's co-workers at St Mungos Apparated in after another fifteen minutes, but still there was no sign of the Longbottoms. Worry and doubt began to spread its tendrils through Harry. What if they weren't coming? What if something had happened to them? Where are they?

The fire turned green and Frank Longbottom came out. Dusting off his robes, the twenty-eight-year-old looked around the Potters living room and caught sight of his younger friend.

"James!" he called out, grinning as the black-haired man spun around.

"Frank! Hi," he greeted him pushing his way through the crowd to get to him. "You made it."

"Yeah, sorry I'm late, Alice is bringing Neville,"

"Oh, she is? That's good, someone to keep the boys company then."

Frank nodded happily, before reaching inside his robe and pulling out two packages.

"Got the gifts for the twins here." He waved them about lightly.

James's mouth opened slightly, and his eyes clouded for a second as he stared at the two presents amazed, then a slow grin took over his face. "Wow, you got one for Harry too, that's really good of you. Not many people remember that Harvey's got a twin," a small frown formed on his brow, and he muttered almost to himself, "I hate it when people ask me 'How my son is going,' they make it sound like Harry doesn't exist."

Frank shifted uncomfortably, awkward because he himself had forgotten until this morning. "Yes well, actually, Neville was very insistent that we got one for Harry too, so–"

Their conversation was interrupted as the fire turned green again, and Alice stepped out holding Neville. Alice had a kind, round face, with short fair hair, and brown eyes, the boy on her hip had her same eyes but had his Dad's shorter brown hair.

"Alice!" Lily yelled, manoeuvring around a group of laughing people and hugging her best friend.

"Lily, its good to see you," Alice greeted her warmly. She put Neville down, and he right away started staring around the room, as if looking for someone. Frank and James walked over to their wives, Frank placing a hand proudly on Neville's head.

"This is my son Neville," he introduced,

James smiled down at the little boy, who was looking back with wide eyes.

"Hello Neville. You know, Harvey and Harry are about your age, why don't I go see if I can find them," James turned around, scanning the crowd for any sign of his sons. "Ah, there's Harvey over there."

Sirius was holding Harvey, introducing him to some of the guests. Over the noise though it was almost impossible to hear someone from the other side of the room, so James disappeared into the crowd again to go steal his son away. Meanwhile Alice and Lily had struck up a conversation about work.

Neville shifted impatiently under Frank's hand, Frank looked down at him surprised. His son was usually quite calm and tolerant, but now he seemed pretty anxious about something, Frank wondered if it was because he really wanted to meet the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Hi!"

Frank looked around at the voice but saw no one, and then he looked down. A small boy, about Neville's age was in front of him grinning madly. He was practically a mini-me of James Potter except shining, emerald eyes were hidden behind glasses, and a scar in the shape of lightning bolt was on his forehead, this must be the other Potter twin, Frank mused.

"Hi!" Neville grinned insanely back, making Frank blink; his son wasn't usually this out-going, he was actually pretty shy most of the time.

"Wanna go play outside?"

"Sure!"

And before Frank could even object, both boys were gone. James appeared before Frank now holding a squirming red-headed four-year-old.

"Hey, what happened to Neville?"

Frank shook his head slowly, still trying to understand it himself. "A green-eyed alien abducted him,"

"What was that?" James asked above the noise, closing one eye in pain as Harvey started tugging somewhat harshly on his hair, whinging that he wanted to get down.

"Err… nothing… he went to go play with Harry," Frank explain, watching amused as James tried to control his son, obviously distracted.

"Oh… Oh? Really, well I guess– OWOW! Harvey let go of Daddy's ear! OUCH! Frank, buddy, little help please? Arr-ah-AH! Stop laughing!"

A/N

I'm trying to get through each year as quickly as I can, so sorry about this chapter; the next one will hopefully be more interesting, as the group will finally come back together! : )

So please tell me what you think!