THE BOY WITH DRAGON POX


Summary: A young Muggle is in hospital and the doctors are looking for a
blood donor from a close relative. Harry has a plan to help. Pre Epilogue.

Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. Any character you might recognize belongs to her
genius. She's a much better story teller than I am, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Chapter One: A Search and Introductions.

Eleanor Statterin was desperate when she called her old boyfriend.
"Robert, Michael has what they think is a rare type of blood disorder. They're
looking for a blood donor that'll match but it's hard because he has a rather
odd incompatibility with all the blood they've tried so far," she said on the
phone.

Robert O'Neil gripped his cell phone tightly in reaction to the words.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes," Eleanor said. "We think there are other cousins on my aunt's
side but we can't seem to find anything, even a name. Could you help us find
them?"

"I'll do what I can," he said, "but I have to stay within the guidelines of
department policies. I'll talk to my boss, see what we can come up with."

"Thanks so much, Robert," Eleanor said. "We're just at our wit's end
right now."

"I can understand that," Robert returned. "I'll get started right away.
Give my best to everyone and a good hug to that hellion of yours. He always
had a special place in my heart. Like the child we never had."

"Oh you hopeless romantic," Eleanor said with a chuckle. "We would
have made beautiful babies together. How's your wife and kids then?"

"Everyone's fine," Robert said. "Roland is nine and loves football.
Wants to play for Manchester United, of course. Mary is seven and as cute
and wonderful as can be. Loves horses, naturally. Anyway, I better let you
go and get to work. Once again, hugs to everyone, okay?"

"Thanks Robert," Eleanor said.

Detective Constable O'Neil turned to his computer and did a rough
search, got a last name that simply dropped out of sight then a couple
others and traced the most promising down. The files said he sold mining
and drilling equipment, moderately prosperous, though there was a gap in
work and income about thirteen years ago. A bit odd for a salesman. Lives in
Surrey. That was less than an hour away so he made a call and got a time to
talk to them after work. Then he went to his boss and explained the situation
with a request to take a couple days off to help find these missing cousins.

Petunia Dursley met Robert at the door with a painted on smile that
seemed permanent. "Yes, do come in. Vernon is getting changed. He'll be
out in a minute. Would you like a cuppa?"

"That would be most kind of you, ma'am" Robert said politely.

As she handed him the hot cup, Vernon came out to the living room
and asked, "What is it we can do for you Constable?"

"For starters, please call me Robert," he said as he stood and shook
hands. "This isn't a criminal investigation, I'm helping a friend out. I have
permission from my boss to find a relative of Michael Statterin, the son of
Eleanor Statterin. We've known each other since school, you see. Anyway,
her son, that's Michael, is in hospital and they're looking for a compatible
blood donor. Your son, Dudley, I contacted him already but in searching the
family tree there is mention of a Lily Evans but I can't seem to find anything
about her. No record after grammar school far as I can tell."

Vernon and Petunia exchanged horrid looks, not at all missed by the
constable. Something about Dudley?

"She's dead," Petunia said with a tremor in her voice. "Both of them,
him and my sister both gone. That was a very long time ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Robert said automatically. He saw that look
again. "She was married then?"

"Yes, they were," Petunia said. "She had to get mixed up in that ...
with that man."

He saw the two people exchange looks, knew what he was seeing but
had to push this to conclusion without offending. "Is there something
uncomfortable about all this? I'm only here to help find a donor for Eleanor's
son. I don't wish to intrude on any family difficulties."

Vernon snorted then put on a grin like it was a well worn mask. "Oh
no, no difficulties anymore."

The grin didn't extend to his eyes, Robert noticed, and got curious
about the history here. But he wasn't here for history, he was here in this
increasingly complicated and strained situation for reasons other than his
personal and professional interest.

"Well, sir, I'm glad to hear that," he said casually. "Are there any
children still around?"

A wave of anger passed over Vernon's face.

Petunia glanced at her husband then said, "Yes. A boy. We brought
him up but we haven't seen him in years," she said, putting on a face that
said she wanted to say more but decided she shouldn't share with a
stranger.

"Do you know where he lives now?" Robert asked. Many times he'd
been in worse conversations but that was professional. This seemed so much
more personal than interviewing a suspect in a crime, like he was rubbing an
old scar that still hurt and these people had done nothing to earn a nose-
rubbing.

"I think I can help you," Petunia said, shooting a look toward her
husband. "He sent us cards and pictures."

Vernon's face turned pink then red, he sputtered and said, "I thought
we agreed to toss that rubbish out!"

Petunia gazed evenly at him with her lips pursed in anger, glanced at
Robert then back and said pointedly, "It seems at the moment we could help
save a boy's life. We owe him that much, Vernon."

She turned to Robert, tremoring with strain but used a pleasant voice
to say, "I have all the pictures he sent. I'll get them. His address is on the
envelopes." A sharp look toward Vernon and she walked out of the room.

Vernon sat in his chair with a look on his face that wasn't pleasant and
Robert thought back to the last time he'd bollixed something up with the
Misses and paid for it later. It looked like Mr. Dursley wasn't going to have a
nice evening at all.

"Cost me my promotion," Vernon muttered. "Worthless little git. Had
to take leave for a year. Nearly lost the house."

"Pardon sir?" Robert said though he heard every word.

"Never mind," Vernon said, glaring into space.

Petunia returned and handed Robert a handful of letters. "If any of
these can help that poor boy out, you use them. If I could ask a favor,
though," she said. Robert nodded and waited.

"Please, I'd like to keep the photographs. His children are just darling."

Another look shot toward her even redder faced husband said it was
going to be a long night for the poor fellow. That last remark wasn't for him
as Constable or someone trying to find a relative. No, Vernon was going to
have a long night.

The return address was from Godric's Hollow, wherever that was. He
glanced through the photos, two then three children growing up, the last
ones with two boys about ten and eight, both wearing long cloaks, the
younger girl a pointed hat with a broom in her hand, one of the old
fashioned kind with straw tied to a warped branch. They really were
engaging. The picture almost looked like it was alive with the smiles of the
three youngsters. He blinked then handed them to Petunia.

"Very nice looking kids," I said. "Once again, I thank you for your time
and most generous hospitality."

"He saved my son's life," Petunia said. "Maybe he can save another."

"That is my hope too. Once again my thanks for all your help, Mrs
Dursley," he said, slipping his hand into his jacket. "My card. If anything
comes up you might think could be helpful."

"Very nice to meet you Constable," Petunia said as he started to his
car.

When he was a few blocks away he stopped, opened his phone and
typed. "Hmm," he muttered softly. "Too long to drive there today. A phone
call would work."

A short search into the police server and he found a phone number,
gave it a ring and got an answering machine. Message left he headed back
to the office where he looked up the name on the envelope and found
another mystery. No work listed, nothing from Inland Revenue, a driver's
license that was current, passport, many trips abroad with family, a lot of
money for someone that didn't seem to be earning any. It didn't add up
which was triggering his detective sensibilities. But then again, there was no
indication of criminal history, no arrests, not even a parking ticket so that
left out crime to explain the money and the anger he'd seen.

Even brokers paid corporate taxes but that path wasn't helpful either.
With a warrant he could dig into the records but he didn't want to go that
far, not yet, the man wasn't a criminal and deserved his privacy. Then he
found nothing in the personals or social nets either. Apparently he had a
couple Email addresses and cell phones so that could provide some means of
finding out more if he needed to. But it still added up to a mystery.

"So, Mr. Potter, who are you really?" he asked aloud and went back to
typing searches.

Back at the hospital later that afternoon he was sitting on Michael's
bed with a checkerboard between them while his mother and father were
chatting with the doctor away from the boy's hearing.

"So, Michael, you been good while you've been staying here?" he
asked.

"Yes, Uncle Robbie," the seven year old boy replied.

"How's the food? Dating any of the nurses yet?" Robert asked.

Michael giggled and moved a piece. "Food's okay. Nurse Clarissa
promised me a date but I have to wait til I'm old enough. I'm old enough
now don't you think?" The boy looked up with bright eyes.

Robert snickered. "Yes, you just might be, mate. You doing school
work while you're here?"

"Yeah," the boy said with a snort. "Mum has Lizzie next door getting it
from my teachers. I wish she'd just forget so I don't have to do any more
fractions."

Robert made a move on the board to set up a double. "I use fractions
all the time at work," he said.

"You do?" Michael asked and absently moved into the trap.

"Well, sometimes anyway," and winked. Both snickered at the joke.

Robert's phone rang and it took a second to realize what the number
meant. "No moving my pieces while I'm gone or I'll turn you upside down
and dip your hair in the toilet," he told a giggling Michael with a grin, got up
and went out in the hall.

"Detective Constable O'Neil. Is this Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir, it is," the voice said. "What is it I can do for you, Constable?"

"Well, nothing official, not in the legal sense," Robert said to reassure.
"You see, my friend's son is quite ill and the doctors were looking for a blood
donor. Eleanor is related to you through your mother's family. We're trying
to contact everyone we can to see if there's a suitable match."

"I see," the voice said. "If there's anything I can do to help, I'm
available."

"That's very good of you," Robert said. Didn't sound like someone
trying to hide anything. "Can you make an appointment with your local
physician? I can send the needed information and forms for testing."

"That's quite alright," Harry said over the phone. "Where can I meet
you?"

"I'm at Radcliffe Hospital right now," Robert said. "In Oxford. If you
like we can set up an appointment here in the next few days, if that's what
you'd prefer."

"Just a mo. Let me talk to my wife." A minute later he said, "I can
meet you there anytime. Thirty minutes be alright?"

"Are you in Oxford, Mr Potter?" Robert asked.

"Not at the moment," Harry said, "but Radcliffe, that's close to the
University. I'll be there as soon as I can get changed and app ... get there.
What's the room number?"

Wondering just how this was going to all happen, Robert said, "Twelve
fifty eight but don't put yourself out. Tomorrow would be just fine. I'm just
happy you responded. I'm sure the lab here can draw blood for matching in
the morning."

There was a pause, then the voice said, "Half an hour. No problem."

When he rang off he couldn't help but wonder more. First a mystery
man, his family acting so oddly at the mere mention of him, Vernon's bluster
and barely civil, rabid dislike of the man. Then he calls up and says he'll be
here in half an hour, traveling half across the country to do it. Maybe he was
in London, but no, his phone was in Dorset. At least the dialing code was in
Dorset. Perhaps one of those forwarding services.

True to his word, in half an hour there was a knock on Michael's room
door. Eleanor got up and there stood a rather smallish man with unruly black
hair, an engaging smile and glasses with a small smudge of dirt on one
cheek. Robert got up and placed himself between Michael and this man who
shouldn't have been able to get where he was standing in so short a time.

"Mrs. Statterin?" the man asked.

"Yes?"

"I believe a Detective known to you has been asking for me,
he said. "My name is Harry Potter. If I can be of any assistance to you or
your son I put myself at your disposal. I understand we're related through
my mother's family."

Eleanor turned to Robert and got a slight nod. "Do come in Mr. Potter.
This is my son and the light of my life, Michael."

Harry looked at the boy and saw the spots around his neck, frowned,
then put on a happy face. "Glad to meet you, young man. My name is Harry.
How you feeling?"

The boy smiled shyly and shook the offered hand. "Pretty good. I beat
Uncle Robbie in checkers today."

"You did?" Harry asked with a friendly voice, moving closer and looking
again at the spots under the boy's chin then at the man standing close by.
Didn't seem to be the natural father, they didn't look that much alike. But he
did look concerned for the boy.

"Sure did," the boy said and leaned in close to quietly continue, "I
think he let me beat him. He does that sometimes but don't tell him I know."

Standing back a little Harry said with all seriousness, "If you're that
good at checkers maybe we could play a game of chess if we get the
chance."

"I can play chess, a little," Michael said and beamed a grin.

"I just bet you can," Harry said. The hopeful doubt he had faded as he
looked at the spots again when the boy raised his chin.

"Mrs. Statterin, you have a fine son and I'd like to take him up on a
game or two later, with your permission," Harry said and glanced at the man
eying him carefully. Police officer. Had the look. Two and two made four in
the Muggle world too.

"Now, I should properly introduce myself to the Constable here. He
went to a great deal of trouble to track me down," Harry said.

He turned to O'Neil and offered, "A cup of tea? Then we can talk to the
doctors and see if a blood test would be helpful."

Robert saw a look, something that looked familiar, one police officer to
another. He made a slight nod of his head in recognition. "I could use a good
cuppa. My treat, though."

Harry grinned. "Most hospitable of you sir. Shall we?"

As they waited for the elevator to reach them, Robert asked, "Who do
you work for, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm in law enforcement like you," he replied easily,"though I doubt
our paths would ever likely cross."

The elevator arrived and they stepped in. A few people waiting started
for the door then stopped, the doors shut and they were alone.

"If you don't mind me asking what agency do you work for then?"
Robert asked.

"Auror's Office. Could you tell me what time it is?"

Robert glanced at his watch and said, "Seven thirteen."

"Take my hand," Harry said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Take my hand. I'll explain in a few minutes," Harry said and gently
took a hesitant touch of fingers in his. "This'll feel a little strange."

Robert started to say something then the world dropped out from
under his feet, twisting him inside out and back again and leaving his
stomach roiling. He was standing in darkness, outside, on a lawn when his
stomach gave a heave and he lost his lunch on the grass at his feet.

"There, better out than in, like a good friend of mine used to tell us,"
Harry said as he patted the man's shoulder.

Robert managed to stand up, looked around and reacted instinctively,
hand going for his weapon. He saw Harry reach into his sleeve and pull a
stick out, pointing it at him just as he got his service automatic out of the
holster. As he raised it he heard words.

"Accio bullets cenare'."

There was a slight tug on his gun hand as he continued to raise it,
pointing the barrel at center mass without thinking then adjusting his stance.

Harry smiled then opened his hand to show just over a dozen nine
millimeter shells in his palm.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said. "If you had discharged your weapon there
would have been so many questions to answer and I don't think you'd've
been able to answer very many of them."

Robert stared as the hand was held out to him. "Take them, please."

Robert held out his left hand and Harry dropped the bullets onto his
palm, he stared at them for a moment then at his weapon, clicked the
release and stared wide-eyed into the empty magazine. "How? What the
...?"

"Michael doesn't have a blood disorder, not like you think," Harry said.
"Constable O'Neil. I need you to listen to me carefully. First thing is
everything I'm going to tell you stays between you and me and the trees. I
need your solemn word you will not repeat anything we talk about to
anyone. I cannot emphasize how important this is to you."

Robert glanced at his gun, fingered the bullets in his other hand and
looked up. "What is going on?"

"Your word as a keeper of the Queen's peace and as a man," Harry
said. "This is very important. To you most especially."

Robert looked this strange man in the eye, saw no deceit and nodded.
"Alright, for now. My word."

"I won't insult you by asking for anything more," Harry said. "You're a
man to hold to his word. So, first off, we are at Southfield Golf Course.
That's about three kilometers from Radcliffe Hospital. About the same from
Oxford university. Could you tell me what time it is."

"Time?" Dumbly he looked at his watch again. "Seven fourt ... teen,"
he said and frowned.

With his brow furrowing in questions he said, "In the elevator it was
seven thirteen and now it's seven fourteen. We're three kilometers from
Radcliffe you say."

"Constable Oneil. Can I call you Robert?" Harry asked and got a nod.
"Good. Michael does not have what the doctors think he has. He has a form
of Dragon Pox I believe. Very early stages. It can be disfiguring or fatal if
not treated properly. They won't be able to cure it."

"Dragon .... Pox?"

"Yes. Wizards get it. Thought we had it pretty much taken care of but
it sometimes comes up out of nowhere," Harry said. "A blood transfusion,
now that's an interesting approach, though I'd have to talk to Hermione
about that but it seems like an interesting idea. Neville has said it is a
genetic disorder but Madame Pomfrey doesn't agree. But then again, she's
still working with eighteenth century potions." Harry finished and gave
Robert a grin.

"Potter," Robert said. "I hope you understand when I say I'm totally at
a loss. I haven't understood a thing since you said Michael didn't have what
... what the doctors said." He looked at his useless weapon then holstered it.

Harry didn't need to think about what to do next. Michael was a sick
child, and though the doctors were doing their best, it wouldn't work. It
wasn't the time to be subtle.

"Okay. You'll need to suspend your detective's index of suspicion for a
few minutes and just accept what I'm going to say," Harry said. "I'm a
wizard."

Robert guffawed. "Like Gandalf? Potter, I can't ..."

Harry said softly, "Lumos" and his wand lit. "Repello muggleton,
muffliato, protego." His wand pulsed with light at the words.

He turned back to Constable O'Neil. "I said I'm a wizard. Gandalf was
fictional. I'm not. I just made sure no one would disturb or overhear us.
Notice how quiet it's gotten?

"There's a whole other world out there. We have kept the Muggle
world and the Magical world apart for generations on generations. From the
sixteen hundreds, I understand."

Robert had a strange look on his face but Harry continued. "Sorry.
Magical and Muggle, non magical world. It's been centuries since there has
been contact between us. I was raised as a Muggle. One of my best friends
was Muggle born. My wife and her family come from a long line of Pure
Bloods, though if you use that word around Ginny she'll likely turn your hair
purple. For starters."

"Muggle. Pure Blood. Wizards. Right." Robert muttered.

"I'm head of the Auror's Office, British Ministry of Magic. I hunt down
and capture Dark Wizards. Criminals, if you will," Harry said. "What Michael
has is Dragon Pox, if the spots mean what I think. Like I said, I'll talk to
Neville to be sure but I've seen it before. Ron's daughter had it but she's
been free of it for a year now."

"Dragon Pox," Robert said, trying to get his head around all that had
happened in the last five minutes of his life. A life he thought he had a pretty
good handle on. Until this moment.

"Yes," Harry said seeing thee look in the man's eyes. "I suppose the
real question for you right now is all this I've been saying, is it bull or what."

"Uh yeah," Robert said and looked at Harry again, suddenly realizing
the both of them were bathed in the light from that stick. There was no guile
evident in his expression or body language. "You're serious. You're telling
me you do, you have magic, you do magic I mean. You want me to believe
you're a wizard and that's your magic wand."

Harry gave a soft chuckle. "Yes. Holly with Phoenix feather core. Only
one other like it was ever made," he said with a certain finality to his voice.
"Had the Elder wand for a few hours but, well, never mind that for now. The
important thing is for you to not just believe what I say but to truly accept it.
This is very important. As an Auror, I can do what is needed without directly
alerting the Ministry, though I'll have to explain to Shacklebolt why I've
chosen this way of doing things. It's a touch risky, what I'm doing.

"I've been wanting to make contact with Scotland Yard or some such
for a long time now. I think we can help each other out in certain cases,"
Harry said. "Also, St. Mungo's could use a little shaking up, get into the
swing of modern medical care. There's so much Muggle medicine could offer
us, though I doubt the reverse would be true. Except in Michael's case."

Robert stared at the man in front of him. "Yes, Michael. I'd make a
deal with the devil himself if it would help Eleanor."

Harry gazed evenly back at O'Neil. "I see. You two?"

"A long time ago," Robert said wistfully. "Almost got married, but I
went to the Academy and we sort of fell apart after that. Still love her in a
certain way. I'm married now and I love my wife and kids more than life
itself."

"As a husband and father, I couldn't agree with you more," Harry said.
"Now, though, we need to figure out how to have Michael seen by Neville
and some Healers. The sooner the better.

"What you need to do is talk to Eleanor, make her understand Michael
needs to be seen by a specialist. That's going to cause problems with the
hospital staff. That can't be helped but we'll need to be, uh, careful in what
we say and do. Can I count on you?"

Robert thought a moment. A deal with the devil himself he'd said. "If
it's for Michael, I'm your man. Now, just to satisfy my curiosity, could I see a
bit of magic?"

Harry laughed. "Tell you what. I'd like you to meet Kingsley
Shacklebolt. He used to work for the Prime Minister. Of England. Muggle
England," Harry said. "I think you'd make a good liaison officer between our
departments. You up for something completely different?"

Robert chuffed and Harry stared at him. "John Cleese," Robert said
with a grin.

Harry thought a moment then burst out in laughter. "Yes. When I need
a good laugh he always does it for me. If this works out like I hope it does,
it'll be that. Something completely different."

"All of this is real then?" Robert asked. "You're a wizard, an Auror you
said, and there's a whole other world out there I've never heard about.
Never even imagined?"

Harry chuckled. "You'll see tomorrow. For now how about we have that
cup of tea. Would you mind apparating again? I can get us pretty close to
Radcliffe without being seen and we can visit with Michael some more.
Charming young lad. He'd like my Lily I think. And you have some difficult
work to do."

Robert O'Neil frowned. "Will I blow my cookies again?"

"Probably. I nearly did the first time I did side-along with Dumbledore
but I was only sixteen then and used to odd things." Harry gave a short
laugh and said, "After a while, you get used to it. Ready?"

"Have at it, mate," Robert said and held out his hand.
o

THE BOY WITH DRAGON POX

Summary: A young Muggle is in hospital and the doctors are looking for a
blood donor from a close relative. Harry has a plan to help. Pre Epilogue.

Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. Any character you might recognize belongs to her
genius. She's a much better story teller than I am, too.



Chapter Two: Meeting with the Minister


"Kingsley," Harry Potter said jovially, holding the elevator grate open.
"Good to see you again."

Kingsley Shacklebolt frowned and said in low, quiet tones, "I have a
certain notice on my desk at the moment, Potter. Care to explain?"

"Certainly, sir," Harry cheerily answered. "Your office or mine?"

"Better yours," Kingsley said. "Secretaries are always chattering. I was
one for some time, if you remember."

"Of course, sir," Harry said, stepped into the lift behind the
Minister and pushed the button for level two.

Shacklebolt sat opposite Harry and pursed his lips after hearing about
the hospitalized boy. "I understand your reasons but did you have to have
contact with the Muggle police?" he asked and got a nod. "Michael Statterin
you say?"

Harry nodded again.

"I'll look into it. I'm sure Filius or Minerva will have records on the lad
and his family," Kingsley said. "Wizard? You sure of this?"

"He has Dragon Pox, I'm pretty sure of that, though Madam Pomfrey
should have a look along with Neville ," Harry said. "Seems he's a wizard in
the making. Since he is, assuming I'm right so far, then he might as well
have a little exposure to our world before he has to enter it like I did: cold
and hard with bunk on how to deal."

"Yes, that can be rough on a Muggle born wizard," Kingsley agreed.
"His parents? You think they'll handle it at his young age? Will they be a
problem?"

"With a healthy son, no, no problem at all," Harry said and leaned
forward. "If someone came to you and said they could cure your daughter of
a fatal disease, wouldn't you accept the help and anything that came from
it?"

"There is that," the Minister agreed, nodding his head.

"You know how much I've been trying to set up some form of
cooperation between our world and the Muggle world," Harry said.

"Yes. I've read all the white papers you've sent," Kingsley said. "Your
points are valid in every way but there is a long precedent for the Statute.
So far, I don't see much to change my mind on that."

Harry sighed. An old argument. "There's always the Jugson case,"
Harry said. "If we could have had help from the police we would have found
him long before we did and those Muggles he killed would still be alive. I
don't see how two dozen murders is proper justification for secrecy. Nor do I
see their deaths as the price we must accept for our safety."

His voice rose and his hand slapped the desktop. "They had families,
Kingsley. They left behind orphaned children, I have a particular affinity in
that area, you know. We could have prevented it but for an ancient rule we
haven't questioned in decades."

Kingsley sighed while waiting for the Auror sitting in front of him to
calm down. "In my heart I hear you. As Minister, I must enforce the law just
as you must as an Auror," he said heavily. Then he leaned in a little closer.
"I do, however, agree there needs to be a bit of room to maneuver.

"You want this Constable O'Neil, you want him as liaison between the
Muggle police and the Auror office?" he asked.

"Yes I do," Harry answered.

"You trust him?"

"I think he's an honest man that thinks of others before himself,"
Harry said. "When we apparated I did a bit of legilimency to be sure I was
doing the right thing. If there had been a doubt, I'd've Obliviated him right
then.

"But if I had, then Michael, the boy in hospital, would be doomed."
Harry sat back a little. "So yes, I trust O'Neil."

Shacklebolt let out a long sigh and nodded his head. "Keep it low key.
It gets out of hand I won't be able to protect you as I'll be removed from
office and you'll be in the cell next to me in Azkaban. There are always
people looking at this Ministry with envy for the power it has."

He sighed again and sat back in his chair. "If only they could see the
terror I feel every day for fear I'll make a mistake, to be responsible for so
many people, they just don't know, they don't understand. Don't make us
targets."

Both men looked at each other then Kingsley said, "It might be better
to meet him out of this arena, away from watching eyes."

Harry grinned. "I do believe I should tell Ginny to make dinner for at
least two guests. Do you think I should bring Ron Weasley into this?"

Kingsley sighed at the turn of words. "You never do go part way with
anything, do you Harry? Since you've likely put him neck deep in this
already, yes, Ron. Hermione too. She's Muggleborn. She'd be a help. Need a
babysitter? My wife adores your Lily."

"I think we'll be okay for this first meeting," Harry said with a grin. As
soon as Kingsley Shacklebolt left, he turned to his fireplace, tossed a pinch
of Floo powder on the grate and murmured clearly, "Godric's Hollow, Potter
House." As soon as the green mist coalesced he said, "Ginny, love of my life.
Guess who's coming to dinner?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry met Constable O'Neil and Eleanor Statterin at a cafe'‚ in Old
Martson that had seen better days. The Pot and Bowl needed a few gallons
of paint, the wood scrubbed, new curtains; all in all, somewhat of a tawdry
place to invite friends. "Good to see you could make it, Robert, Eleanor.
How's Michael?"

"Pretty much the same," Mrs. Statterin answered. "So, we're going to
dinner?" Her eyes flicked around the store room at the back of the cafe'‚ with
its overstuffed shelves and dusty containers.

Harry grinned. "Yep. You'll like my wife's cooking. It's going to be a bit
of a picnic. You're going to meet some of my friends, Ron and Hermione,
you'll like them, and a few others. Anyway, Ron works with me and will be a
big help along with Hermione. We've all been friends for, well, since I was
eleven. Met them on a train to school. Bit of a story, that. Along with Neville
and Madam Pomfrey, perhaps a Healer from St. Mungo's too, if possible."

"St. Mungo's?" Eleanor asked.

Harry sucked in his breath. "This is all for Michael. I have, lets see,
how to put this. Let's just say for now there's some information I have
available that'll help your son. Ron's daughter, Rose, she had something
much the same not long ago but you'd not know she was deathly ill today.

"Now I have to ask a favor of you, Eleanor," Harry said. When she
gazed at him cooly he said, "I have to ask you to not say anything about
what you might learn tonight. Not to anyone except your husband and I'd
like to be there when you do."

"I see," she said, glancing at the constable by her side, then around
the dimly lit room. "Well, Frank's sitting with Michael while I go to dinner
with a stranger in this ... place. Sure. What else should I do? Dance a jig in
public? Of course I promise, if it'll help my son. You a father?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said. "Three so far. And I'd give my life for them in
a heartbeat, just like you would for Michael, so I accept your word to keep
this under your hat for a little bit. We'll bring Frank into it after you are
conversant in some things you, uh, won't quite understand at first."

At her frown he went on, "Sorry to be mysterious but I can promise
you'll understand by the time you return in a few hours. You ready?"

A long sigh came from the anxious mother. "I don't really know but
that's not going to stop me. I'm up for a leap of faith right now."

Harry stood and led the two to the back of the room, standing them in
front of a monstrous fireplace that would have been the rage two hundred
years ago. He took a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it on the cold grate.

"Ginny. I have company coming," he said into the green, flame-looking
mist. A glance at Robert and he said, "Security. Call ahead or it's lockdown.
For, uh, work, and the kids."

A face appeared composed within the cold green flames. "Okay
sweetheart. Good luck," the wavering image said out of the hearth.

"Uh, what was ... what did I just see?" Eleanor asked.

"This is going to be interesting for you," Harry said. "Trust me. I
showed Robert a bit of this yesterday and he trusts me now, more or less."

"I'm not going to blow eats again, am I? Not a good way to ingratiate
one to one's hosts," Robert said.

Harry laughed. "Oh no. This is much more sedate. No problem at all.
All you have to do when I toss this powder onto the hearth is hold my hand
and we'll be at my home in no time. Literally."

Eleanor had a nervous look when she asked, "Robert? What is this?"

He grinned back. "I trust Mr. Potter. Let's just do as he asks. I'm sure
it'll be as interesting as he says."

"Ah, jeez," she said. "I can't believe what I'm seeing anyway. Might as
well find out what's behind the looking glass."

Harry snickered and said, "Bit of a blow up over that one. Anyway, just
take my hand and step into the flames. They're quite harmless."

She did as asked and Robert joined her, stepping into the maw of the
green lit fireplace with cold fire dancing about her feet. She stared at it.

Harry took a handful of Floo powder, loudly and clearly said, "Potter
House," and tossed the dust at their feet.

Ginny smiled at her guests then stood back as Mrs Statterin let out a
shriek, looked around wild-eyed and slowly caught her breath.

"I was like that the first time I traveled by Floo," Ginny said with a
grin. "But then I was only six. Mum said I nearly blew her shoes off I
squealed so loud."

She reached out to take the woman's shaking hand. "There you go
dear. Let's get you a cloth so you can clean up a little. Always the problem
with the old Network. Dusty fireplaces. Gets you all smutty."

"Mummy? Who's all these people?" a cute red haired girl with wide
eyes asked when she skidded to a halt close to the fireplace.

"Lily flower, please introduce yourself properly to Mrs. Statterin and
Mr. O'Neil," Ginny said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Lily Luna Potter," the girl said and
shyly held out her hand.

"Good to meet you, Lily Luna," Robert said. "My name is Robert
O'Neil," took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. "This is Mrs. Statterin, my
friend. She has a boy I think is just your age."

Lily turned to the gaping woman at the hearth. "You do? Is he coming
to play too?"

"Uh, no, not this time," Eleanor managed to get out, gazing at the
young girl in front of her, perfectly at ease with people standing in her
fireplace.

"Can I have a cookie mummy?" the small girl asked.

"Not before dinner sweetheart," Ginny told her daughter. "Now, why
don't you go out and play with your brothers. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione
are coming so you'll have lots of cousins to play with."

"Can I get our brooms out?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes dear," Ginny answered, "but you can't go past the fence."

"Oh goody," she squealed. "Nice to meet you. Bye daddy," she said
and was off in a swirl of red hair.

Ginny turned to the mother still standing at the hearth. "Come along
and I'll get you a hot towel, dear. This must be a little overwhelming to you."

Eleanor stopped, turned, stared at the huge Brown owl perched by the
door and smiled weakly. "It was until that darling girl of yours introduced
herself. She wasn't worried so no reason for me to be. Might I ask where I
am and what just happened?"

"Welcome to Potter House. Let's get freshened up, shall we?" Ginny
said as she led her away. "You see, the Floo network ..."

O'Neil turned to Harry. "That wasn't as bad as that other thing.
Apparate?" and got a nod. "Yes, well, it's all very strange still but then your
wife was there and that lovely bundle of energy introduced herself so
politely, it ... just like with my kids. Not quite what I was expecting."

Harry laughed. "I should show you Knockturn Alley then. That's an
eyeopener. Come along and I'll show you the washroom. Old Floos are so
messy. Glad I got this modern one installed when we built the house."

When they came out there were others in the living room. They all
stood up in the presence of guests and Harry said, "I'd like to introduce
Robert O'Neil of the London Metropolitan Police and Eleanor Statterin,
Michael's mother."

Introductions were made and they all shook. Ron leaned in close to
murmur to Harry, "Muggles? You sure about this?"

"Absolutely," Harry said with a grin. "This is the opportunity I've been
waiting for and there's a child with Dragon Pox in a Muggle hospital that
needs our help. He's the main focus for now. He's going to be getting his
Letter in a few years anyway, might as well bring the family into our world
and get them used to it."

Hermione moved in close. "You're completely mental, Harry, but at
least I know Ron's in good company. How many rules are we going to break
this time?"

"A few," Harry replied with a conspiratorial grin.

"Should we hold anything back?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Harry said. "Shacklebolt's going to
be here."

Hermione's eyes flared wide. "Jumping right off the cliff as usual," she
said with a grin growing. "Count us in."

There was a shriek outside and Lily stomped into the house. "Mummy!
Hugo took my broom and won't give it back."

Ron started to move but Hermione put a hand on his arm. He settled
and told the girl, "Tell him if his father has to come out there to make him
behave it'll be a grounding and no broom for a month."

Lily got a grin on, turned and ran out through the door with red hair
dancing about her shoulders. "Hugo, you give me my broom back right now
or else I'll ...."

Ginny called after her. "No hexing young lady or it's the same for you."

Robert looked around at the people he just now was beginning to
understand and appreciate as being just regular folks. "Brooms? Hexing?"

"They're just practice brooms," Ginny said. "Not fast enough to injure,
not seriously, though they all have skinned knees and elbows. Toughens em
up and they have so much fun."

"I see. I think I see," Eleanor said. "You all are friends then?"

Harry laughed and said, "That's a longer story than we have time for
but I will say all of us have saved each other's lives many times over. More
than friends. I trust them, I have trusted them with my life and many
others'. I ask that you trust them, though you're lucky enough not to have to
eat mushrooms and trout for weeks on end to be able to do that."

Hermione snorted. "Harry, I tried everything I could to make them
palatable. You know that."

Harry smiled. "Yes you did and it was always wonderful to eat your
delicious cooking." They traded knowing looks.

Eleanor couldn't keep up with everything being said but understood the
root level of things. These people were as close a family as could be. A lot of
love was in this house. She could trust them. It was as simple as that.

She waited and when no one spoke she said, "I heard you say you
think my Michael has something the doctors don't understand?"

Hermione said, "It's not that they don't understand, it ..." and she saw
the look she was getting. "Harry says it's Dragon Pox. Rose had it and we
nearly lost her it came on so fast. Sometimes it goes epidemic, like in
seventeen thirty two when ..."

"Hermione," Ron said softly.

Hermione got a look then asked, "How long has Michael been sick?"

Eleanor thought back. "It's been a few weeks. We took him to the
doctor and he said the lab tests said he might have leukemia. White blood
count or something. But you're saying it's this ... What is Dragon Pox?"

Hermione paused, glanced at Ron then said, "It's a long story. The
important part is it's a sickness only wizards and witches get. You do
understand what that means?"

"Wizards? Witches?" Eleanor asked. She had a look of incredulity for a
moment then relaxed and said,"So you're saying Michael ... he's a wizard?"

Hermione started to laugh from a memory of her parents but thought
of the distraught mother anxiously sitting in the chair looking for guidance.
"It seems that way," she replied seriously.

"Happens to the best of families," Ron said.

He smirked and Hermione frowned at him. "Ronald. Really. This is
serious."

"Sorry dear," Ron said.

"Yes," Hermione said with amused exasperation and turned back to
Eleanor. "Yes, it means your son is a wizard in the making, though we'd have
to check with Professor McGonagall to be sure. Anyway, if it's Dragon Pox it
can be cured but it's a bit difficult. He'll have to go to St. Mungo's Hospital
for treatment, of course. Is that acceptable to you?"

The mother sat still a moment. "If it'll help my son, anything."

There was the sound of a deep voice then a rushing sound and Ginny
got up. "Company's here. If you'll excuse me," and left the room. A moment
later she led a tall, handsome black man dressed in a three piece suit and a
gold ear ring into the room. Ron and Harry stood up instantly.

"Eleanor Statterin," Harry said. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Kingsley
Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic for the United Kingdom."

"Sit down you two. You're not fooling me for an instant," he said in a
deep voice that matched his size and the men traded conspiratorial grins. He
turned to the stunned mother. "I am honored to meet you, Mrs. Statterin.
Please, call me Kingsley, my lady." He took her hand and touched his lips to
the fingers resting on his palm then nodded to Robert solemnly. Both felt
they had been singled out for an award just for being who they were, the
man's charisma was so strong.

He looked around the room. "I take from that introduction you have
told these two just about everything?" he asked and got nods. "I see. Full on
charge, Harry, yes? And you, Weasley, you went along with this crazy
scheme despite the Secrecy Statute?"

"Of course I did, sir," Ron said without hesitation. "Any mate of Harry's
is a mate of mine."

"I'll never be able to keep you two under control," Kingsley said with a
growing grin. "Dumbledore trained you well and I'm proud to have you
working in the Ministry no matter the trouble you cause me."

Both Aurors stirred uncomfortably. Kingsley went on to say, "And for
your further information, I'll never admit to having said that to anyone
outside this room."

The three of them shared amused looks and Kingsley sat down, Ginny
and Hermione moving to fetch tea, leaving two Muggles, the Minister of
Magic and two unruly Aurors in the room to chat.

"So you see what we must do to help your son," Harry was saying.
"The only real problem is to secure permission and a modicum of
understanding." He gazed cooly at Kingsley. "A little cooperation between
our Healers can surely lead to better care, especially if someone comes in
that one hospital can't help with."

Kingsley nodded his head, "Yes, yes, and the next thing is to have St.
Mungo's brewing up Skele Gro for their bone healing."

Harry nodded. "Seems like a good idea to me."

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "You need to spend a few years reading our
history pertaining to contact with the Muggle world. It hasn't turned out very
well. Not once. It's why we have the Statute. You must understand that after
all this time."

"To tell the truth, Minister, we're falling so far behind the Muggle
world, in a few years they'll be able to do everything we do, only with
technology instead of wands. They have X-ray machines that can see into
your heart and watch it beat. I've seen it myself. We can't do that. We have
a lot to learn from their medical knowledge," Harry said. "Have people in the
Ministry looked at it from that angle?"

Kingsley sighed. Ginny and Hermione came out from the kitchen with
tea followed by Neville and Hanna Longbottom along with two black haired
children, the girl with an Elf owl on her shoulder. Standing alongside was a
sharp featured, matronly woman dressed in very old fashioned clothes. The
two dazzled visitors and the Minister remained seated as the new folks
hugged and shook hands, spending a minute catching up.

"You two go outside and play," Neville told his children. "They have
their brooms out so be nice and they'll share."

Ginny piped up saying, "If they don't, tell them I said to share or I'll
come out there and make sure and they won't like how I do it. Scoot. Have
fun."

The two kids sprinted out the door, the girl stopping to put her tiny owl
next to the huge Brown owl already there, reached into her pocket and
handed both birds a treat, told hers to play nice then joined her brother. The
two owls looked at each other a moment then turned to look out over the
field as the two kids ran across the grass, seeming to think avoiding
recognizing each other was best all around.

Harry spoke up. "The Minister and I were talking how Muggle medicine
could help at St. Mungo's."

Kingsley sputtered his tea, holding the cup away from his clothes.
"That's not exactly what we were discussing, Potter."

Harry snickered. "Madam Pomfrey, allow me to introduce Eleanor
Statterin. She has a boy in hospital with what I think is Dragon Pox."

The older woman's eyes flared. "Oh my. Tell me, how long has he had
red spots under his chin? Has he a rash on his feet? Green complexion?"

The conversation waxed and waned, two, sometimes three strings of
talk going on at once until Lily came in to tell Ginny she was hungry and she
really just had to have a cookie.

"Half a cookie and I better be able to see half a cookie on the table
when I get out to the kitchen, little lady," she told her daughter. "We better
get things started. Hard to say what the boys will get into if we don't get
them fed pretty soon. If they get hungry enough best be counting your
fingers on a regular basis."

After they all ate their fill of steaks, burgers and salads, the adults
settled in the living room with tea, the kids heading upstairs to play with
flying dragon toys.

Eleanor sipped her tea and said, "I hope you understand what I'm
going to say and not take offense but you all seem so different than I'd
imagined up to a few days ago. You have kids that need hugs or time outs,
you're roasting over propane, there's a dishwasher, all the kit I'd expect to
see anywhere in London. And you all talk about such regular things like how
the kids are doing in school and what kind of car is reliable. I thought that if
you're wizards, you could just poof something you wanted into existence."

Hermione started out, "Well, according to Gamp's..." and Ron put a
hand on her arm.

"It's not that easy. Loads of restrictions," Ron said. "Hermione could
tell us all the rules but you wouldn't understand and we'd be here all night
discussing the ins and outs of how it all works."

Hermione huffed and said, "Ronald."

"You would dear," Ron said.

Hermione let out a sigh with a contrite grin. "Yes, I guess I would."

"I keep telling you to apply to Hogwarts," Ron said. "No one knows
more about both our worlds than you do. You're wasted at the Ministry.
You're smarter than all of us put together."

Hermione politely blushed, gently squeezing her husband's hand.
"What we need to do is make a plan, Ron," and she caught Harry's eye. "A
real plan, not like we did before when everything went bunk and we'd just go
along until we could get away. Without half my skin burned off this time if
you please."

Ron looked innocent and Harry snickered, saying, "I promise. And no
dragons."

"Yes. Good idea," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "As long as you're
both in on this, let's see how you've thought your way through it then."

Harry turned to Ron and nods were exchanged. Harry said, "Basically
two ways things can go. First the easy way: Eleanor talks to her doctors and
they agree to let Michael be seen by another doctor they don't know and
have never heard of in a hospital that doesn't exist.

"Second: the hard way. They make a fuss and we intervene. Then
either they let Eleanor and Frank take him out of the hospital, there could be
a real put out made then, or we go in with wands blazing and do what needs
to be done."

Kingsley spoke up gruffly. "I'd not be in favor of taking the boy out of
the hospital by force. All kinds of repercussions to deal with."

Harry responded, "Then we have to hope the first way is on for them.
That's what I'm working toward."

Kingsley gave Harry a stern look saying, "And you'll happily make all
the trouble in the world, more trouble than you can imagine, if they can't be
bothered to see it from your all-knowing point of view?"

Harry cooly returned the look. "We're talking about a boy's life. That's
the only thing we need keep in mind." He glanced at the boy's mother and
tried to look reassuring.

"Yes, well let's try to keep things tidy, shall we?" Kingsley said. "I need
you two to keep me informed. Privately. For now, I should be getting home
or my kids will be putting up a bother and I'd rather not have to call you two
rogues in to justify my missing another evening with my wife."

He turned to the mother and said, "It's been an honor to meet you, my
lady. I hope we can work things out in a calm and considered manner. That
is, without letting these two gentlemen run roughshod over the British
Medical system so I have to pay a courtesy call to the Prime Minister. Again.

"I must bid you all a good evening and my thanks for a most delicious
feast, Ginny. As always, it's been good to be in your home once more. As
soon as my son is better I'd like to invite you all to my place for dinner.
Professors Longbottom and Pomfrey, it's been good to see you again. Please
stop by the Ministry if you get a chance." He got up, lightly brushed his lips
against Mrs. Statterin's fingers, nodded to the quiet constable, gave
Hermione and Ginny a hug, Ron, Neville and Harry got warning looks, and
headed out to the kitchen. There was a rushing sound from around the
corner.

Ron grinned and said, "Well, that went pretty good, Harry. Just like
you said it would."

Hermione gaped. "You planned this all out?" and got a grinning nod.
"That was ... Brilliant."

Harry's grin widened, "Thanks, Hermione. Coming from you that's a
high compliment."

Eleanor looked around the room. "So, you're going to help Michael?"

Harry smiled. "Of course we are. We just had to get Kingsley on our
side in case something went wrong and we couldn't get your son to St.
Mungo's without having to resort to, uh, doing things in an untidy manner.

"And if we do, the Minister will back us up. I'm sure of that," Harry
said. "Did you hear him say he was going to give the Minister a call?"

Hermione frowned. "That's not what he said at all. He said he didn't
want to have to make a courtesy call, likely to explain why two Aurors that
should know better went rushing in with wands out and expect him to make
amends simply because you're too hasty to do this the right way. Calmly and
with a proper plan, for once."

Harry kept his grin. "So, you're going to help us then, Hermione?"

She smiled back and said, "Of course," then frowned.

Harry chuckled and held out his hand. Ron sighed, dug in his pocket
and handed over a few sickles with a grin.

Hermione frowned harder. "Ronald. Just you wait until I get you home.
Betting on me. I never."

Ron put on a look of purest innocence. "But dearest, you don't know if
I was betting for or against you."

The Longbottoms joined in the laughter that followed, Madam Pomfrey
smiling to herself, the three wives and mothers exchanging looks before
giving each other smiling nods.

Harry said, "And now we have to get Madam Pomfrey and Neville into
Radcliffe to take a look at young Mr. Statterin, with your permission of
course, Eleanor."

Eleanor shook her head with an amused smile. "I wondered if you
were going to include me in this plan of yours. Of course she can take a
look, just to make sure if nothing else. I'll talk to Frank and we'll make the
arrangements.

"But now, though the meal was most enjoyable and the company
probably the most interesting I've ever encountered, I'd like to get back to
Michael. Frank's had a long day at work already. He's got to be dead on
his feet and he's absolutely barmy at checkers."

Ginny took her hand. "I'm so sorry to have kept you so long. The men,
you know how they can be when they're planning something naughty. Let's
get you freshened up and we'll get you back to your family. Someone has to
make up for the way Harry and my brother have treated you."

Harry stopped and exclaimed, "Ginny, we've been perfect gentlemen!"

"Of course you have, sweetheart," Ginny said and strode away with
Eleanor, a grin on her face.

Harry muttered quietly, "One of these days I'm going to come out on
top of these conversations. Always wanted to throw snowballs in hell."

"I heard that," Ginny said, turned to the mother as she walked, "If
Michael turns out magical, please allow Hermione, Hannah and me to help
you get through things. We'd be most honored to assist in any way," she
said.

Ginny squeezed Eleanor's hand. "And if he isn't, you're always
welcome to come visit. I'd love to meet your husband and son. I can Floo to
London or wherever so it's really no trouble."

Ron laughed and went to the door to call his kids, Hermione fussing
over them for a bit before Flooing them home.

Harry looked at Constable O'Neil. "You were rather quiet tonight. Any
thoughts you'd like to add before I take you home?"

Robert gave Harry a level gaze. "I was here for Eleanor so I let her
lead. But I want to say that before I met your friends I wasn't entirely sure I
was right in trusting you and letting Eleanor trust you. Now I'm sure. I'd be
proud to be of service to your Auror department. It's been a most fascinating
evening, but it's really time I get home to my family too. Is there any way
you could drop me off near my car at Radcliffe?"

Harry smiled. "How's your stomach?" He laughed at the look he got
saying, "Sorry. Joking," and grinned.