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The sound of raised voices downstairs woke him some time later. Harry reached for his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, then slid out of bed and headed for the door. He could recognise Molly's voice, angry and protesting, as soon as he opened the door, but the other was quieter, and it wasn't until he was halfway down the stairs, right before they turned to open out onto the kitchen, that he recognised Dumbledore's voice as well. "Now Molly," he was saying. "You don't know that. I've talked to them, and I'm sure that with the incentive I've offered, things will be different." Harry was almost surprised to realise that the man sounded the same as he always had— gentle, wise, caring. It just seemed wrong, given what he knew now, that there would be nothing different.

Molly wasn't having any of it, and her voice was far from calm. "I don't care what they said, Albus! He's not going back, and that's final! They are vicious, disgusting creatures, and the way they treated him is illegal even by their own laws! He is not safe there, not at all!"

"I understand your concern, Molly, but he gets certain protections from being with a blood relation that just can't--"

"I don't care!" she interrupted. "It's not worth it! If they knew about the Death Eaters they'd give Harry to them! Whatever protections he gets there are irrelevant. Albus, do you really think that Arthur and I are helpless? Can any passive defence really be better than a houseful of wizards? If you're worried, give him a Portkey that can take him someplace safe if there's an emergency, but don't you dare even consider sending him back to those people. I will not allow it!" As she yelled at him, Dumbledore must have been backing up, because he had just barely moved into Harry's view, just the back of his head and his robes.

"It's not that simple, Molly," he insisted. "They've threatened that if he's not back in another day, they'll go to the Muggle authorities and report him as a runaway and a thief. Harry would never be able to go back without being in danger of getting picked up and put in one of their prisons, where he'd be completely vulnerable."

Harry was listening so intensely that he didn't notice the other listener who crept silently down the stairs to stand at his side, so he jumped when a small hand wrapped around his and gave it a comforting squeeze. His heart pounding from the surprise, he looked down to see Ginny standing quietly beside him. Her expression, as she glared at the back of Dumbledore's head, was full of distrust and a startling amount of hostility.

"So he doesn't go back then!" Molly snapped. "Who cares? He certainly doesn't! Why would he want to see those people again?"

Harry was too focused on hearing Dumbledore's reply to give Ginny's reactions much thought, yet. But he made note of them for later. The Headmaster sighed deeply. "Molly," he said, with that infinitely patient, calm voice of his. "They're the boy's family. No matter what, he'll want to see them sometime. And that's his world as much as ours is; it's the world his mother came from. What right have we to cut him off from it? To destroy any chance of reconciliation with his only living family?"

"They're not family! Family doesn't treat a child like that!" Molly's angry voice had been rising steadily, but when she spoke again, it was in a deliberately controlled tone, still tight and angry, but quieter and calmer. "Why don't you ask him, Albus? Ask the boy if those people mean anything to him. Ask him if there's anything there that's worth living with people who take as much pleasure in torturing him as any Death Eater would. If he wants to go, I... I'll let him," she said, her voice breaking as she made that concession. "But if he doesn't, I won't let anyone take him away!"

Harry took a step forward. "I won't go back. If you send me back again, I'll run away again. If I can't run away, I'll call the police. They aren't my family and I hate them!"

Molly wiped at her wet eyes and moved to stand beside Harry, wrapping a protective arm around him. "See, Albus? It would just drive him into more dangerous situations. If that woman is in gaol-- where she belongs, I must say!-- then he certainly can't live with her. If you make him run away, who knows where he'd end up, and in how much danger! Child or not, a person can only take so much."

Dumbledore frowned at Harry. "How long were you listening, Harry?"

"Long enough to know you want me to go back. I won't!"

"Harry... they've threatened to make you a criminal in your own world if you don't come back," the Headmaster said gently. "And you can be assured that I've talked to them quite... extensively, about what's acceptable and what isn't. They know now that there will be consequences if they don't behave in a civilised manner, and that their idea of 'discipline' will not be tolerated."

Harry shrugged. "Tell them to drop it then," he said. "I won't go back." He turned to Ginny. "If he makes me, tell Hermione to have Rita Skeeter do a story on how my relatives treated me."

She nodded, her hostile gaze never leaving Dumbledore. Harry turned back to him in time to catch the quick flicker of emotions across his lined face as he half turned and saw Ginny standing there. Surprise, or possibly shock, and then, for a fraction of an instant, suspicion, but it was all gone in the space between one heartbeat and the next, and then he was back to being a tired, concerned old man again. Almost anyone watching, if they'd seen anything at all, would have dismissed it as their imagination. "Dear child, do you realise what you'd be giving up?" he asked earnestly.

"Abuse?" Harry asked. "Being starved? Being forced to work like a slave? Having to be around people who hate me?" He sighed. "Don't get me wrong," he said, willing himself to believe his words, "I know you were only trying to do what's best, but you were wrong. It was a mistake."

"I don't disagree, Harry," the man said with a deep sigh, then crouched down to look him in the eye. "It was handled very, very badly. I gave trust where it wasn't deserved, and didn't pay attention to what should have been obvious, and for that I owe you an apology." The words were so sincere, as was the pain and guilt in those washed out blue eyes, that Harry didn't really know what to think. It seemed impossible that this could be an act. "But the steps that should have been taken before have been taken now," Dumbledore went on, "and the reasons for placing you there haven't changed. It's not just that your aunt's and cousin's blood ties give you protections that can't be duplicated elsewhere, Harry. It's also so that you have a chance that few other wizards ever have. You can belong to both worlds. You can truly understand what it means to be both Muggle and Wizard. You, more than anyone else, represent both, because your enemies are a threat to both worlds. Do you really want to lose one of them over old grudges, even if steps have been taken to ensure they can't hurt you anymore?"

"You seem to think that I like the Muggle world," Harry said. "If I never set foot in it again, I'd be happy."

"It's the world your mother came from, Harry," he said, a touch reproachfully. "Having to live without magic can produce people of remarkable strength and versatility. There's a lot we can learn from Muggles, things that we've never bothered with because we had magic, even if the non-magical way would be more efficient."

Harry shrugged. "Why should I care?" he asked. "What good has the Muggle world ever done for me?"

Dumbledore smiled tolerantly. "Well, it produced you, for one thing. Your mother was a remarkable woman, and her magic was strong and vibrant in a way rarely seen in pureblooded wizards." He gave Harry a little conspiratorial smile. "A fact which infuriated them, of course. Your own magic is much like hers, and I think that a lot of your strength comes from whatever fortuitous heredity produced hers. And, however much I regret the way your family treated you, I cannot deny that the adversity produced a remarkable young man of outstanding character and strength."

"Tell me," Harry said quietly. "Do you know how my first Hogwarts letter was addressed?"

If he hadn't been watching the Headmaster's face so closely, he wouldn't have caught the flash of irritation that preceded his puzzled frown and head-shake. "I can't say that I do, Harry. The invitation letters are specially spelled to find the young wizard or witch anywhere, and to continue until delivered, even if they move several times."

Harry nodded. "You might want to have someone start looking at them before they go out," he said. "Mine was addressed to Harry Potter, Number Four Privet Drive, The Cupboard Under The Stairs."

"Albus!" Molly gasped, scandalised. "How could you be so careless! Isn't there someone to watch these things?"

He sighed, leaning back against the wall tiredly. "There is now, Molly. After this year... well. Let's just say that young Harry wasn't the only magically talented child who needed intervention." His eyes were haunted, and for a moment, he looked every bit like someone who'd lived through 900 long, painful years, then he looked up at Harry. "There was a good reason to leave you there, Harry. It was the only place I could be certain you would live to even receive the letter. While your home and the place your mother's blood dwells is one and the same, Voldemort cannot touch you there. Her blood lives in you and in her sister, and there lies your refuge. Her sacrifice made the bond of blood the very strongest protection I could give you. You only have to return there once a year, but it must remain your home. It must remain a place you can retreat to in safety. I explained it to your aunt when I left you with her, and I'm explaining it to you now. Her willingness to take you into her home, however grudgingly, is the only reason that you lived to step foot in Hogwarts. You arrived not as happy or well-nourished as I might have wished, but alive. Not driven insane and crippled by curses, but healthy. And neither were you the spoiled, pampered little prince the wizarding world would have made you! You were as normal as anyone could have hoped, given the circumstances, and stronger than we dared wish. None of that could have happened here. None of it!"

"But if my mother's blood lives in me, doesn't that give anywhere I call home that protection?" Harry asked.

Again, he would have missed it if he hadn't been looking for it, but catching the odd little flickers of emotion was becoming easier for Harry every time, and he saw the man's eyes tighten for just an instant with irritation before his expression changed to one of thoughtful surprise. "Why... I... don't know," he said, stroking his beard. "Perhaps so. At least, it could provide the basis for the magic, if nothing else, and the charm could be recast for your current dwelling. But as I said, it wasn't just the protection from Voldemort. It was also protection from the wizarding world's adulation. Now you don't seek out and glory in the attention you're given. You want to earn the respect you get. If you'd been raised as their darling little hero, that almost certainly would not be the case."

"So?" Harry asked. "Was it really worth it? Did you know they broke my arm when I was six, and nothing was done for a week, aside from locking me in my cupboard?" He sighed. "Like I said, I don't doubt that you meant well. I think you just don't understand how... how cruel some people can be. I wish I was like you," he said, sadly.

"There now, luv," Molly said, pulling him close to her side. "Don't you even think of it. It's all past now, and it's going to stay that way." She glared angrily at Dumbledore. Can you change the location of the charm or can't you, Albus?"

The Headmaster looked from her angry gaze, to Harry's defiant one, to Ginny's cold, accusing eyes, and back again. "I believe so," he said, finally. "But I can't be certain. Molly, if it doesn't work, your own family would be in terrible danger. You know that."

"Part of my family already is, Albus!" She gave Harry another protective squeeze and kissed his forehead. "And the rest would be, anyway, just from taking sides, and you know it very well. So you just do whatever spell you have to, and let me worry about us."

"Very well, Molly, if you're sure that's what you want," he said. "I could find someplace in the castle, though, there are plenty of unoccupied suites in the teachers' wing..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Albus. He needs a family, not some dusty, empty old rooms," she said. "Imagine what sort of mischief a boy could get up to, alone and unsupervised all summer!"

Then she flushed and turned to Harry. "Unless... you'd feel safer there, dear? I'm sorry, I didn't think to ask what you'd prefer."

Harry shook his head. "I'd rather stay here."

"Then you shall," she said firmly, and smiled at him before turning back to the older wizard. "There you have it, Albus. He'll be staying with us and that's that."

"If you all insist upon this, then of course he can stay, Molly. I'll want to place some protective wards around the place today. I'll need to do a bit of research, but I should know about the other by morning, and I'll be back to take either his formal acceptance of this place as home, or your formal invitation for him to do so, or possibly both... I'm really not sure what will be needed yet."

"Whatever it is, you'll have it," she said. "Now, will you stay for lunch, Albus? I was just about to call the other boys in from their game."

He shook his head. "Thank you, no. I have several very dry, dusty old books to search through, so I'd best get started." He smiled, his soft blue eyes twinkling with their standard impish charm. "I'll take you up on that some other time, though. Missing out entirely on your cooking would be simply too heartbreaking to contemplate."

She blushed at the compliment and returned his smile. "You know you're welcome any time. Harry, Ginny dear, would the two of you set the table please while I see the Headmaster out?"

"Of course, Mum," Ginny said, with a sweet smile, the very picture of innocence.