Chapter 1
━━━━━━━━ ✥ ━━━━━━━━

The door to Matron's office was offensive in some sort. On one hand, it stood as a protective barrier that kept the woman on one side of the orphanage and the children on another. As long as she was in there, they could pretend like she didn't exist and that Aleyne, the place that was meant to be their home, wasn't so bad after all.

On the other hand, however, the very sight of the thing made the scars on Adhara Black's hands sting. She's been summoned to the room only so many times, and none of the meetings were pleasant.

Though, this was the first time Adhara showed up voluntarily. She clung onto the metal ring right above the handle, already aware of the resonating sound it made when knocked against the wood.

Her eyes were stuck to the floor. She watched her right shoe meet the door, scratching the bottom with her toe where the floor met the door. It was heavy and wide enough to not let the sound reach the other side. She knew this. She's done it before. Every time she stood in front of it actually, when she hesitated to walk in.

Someone calling her name broke her out of her thoughts.

Adhara turned towards the voice and found her roommate.

"Yaritza."

Yaritza Shafiq first showed to Aleyne at the age of seven, when her pureblood family figured she was a squib and decided they didn't want her anymore. Adhara and she have been sharing a room ever since.

She was two years older and also a lot taller than her, but they got along just fine. They looked out for each other at the Aleyne, but never got in each other's way. Leaving the other to do as they pleased as long as they didn't bring the trouble back in their shared bedroom.

The other girl pushed her long dark locks away from her face before nodding in acknowledgment. Yaritza gave her roommate a one-over before glancing back at the door.

"What did she call in for this time?" she asked, her accent coming out at the end. Being out of contact with her Egyptian family for so long, most of it was almost gone, her accent only showing for certain letters. She taught Adhara the language, in an attempt to keep speaking it with someone. But Adhara thought the real reason might have been to annoy Matron.

Adhara gently set the metal ring back in its place before shaking her head. She tried to wipe her sweaty hands on her jeans before remembering she had her grey mittens on.

"Nothing. I need to ask her something."

She watched Yaritza blink a few times before the words finally settled.

"...what?" She waited for her to clarify but Adhara didn't know what else to say. Yaritza was used to her silence anyway. "You need to ask something?"

"Yes."

"Must be important then."

That wasn't a question. It was barely a statement. Her voice lacked any sign of curiosity and that's exactly how Adhara preferred their conversations. Neither of them expected the other to share and neither of them meddled in each other's affairs. They asked questions and accepted whatever answers they got in return.

They both came up with this system ages ago to avoid any sort of fights. It worked pretty well so far.

"You could say that."

Yaritza nodded once again. "Very well. I'll see you after dinner then."

Adhara watched her figure disappear completely before taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She tried to pretend to be more brave than she actually was. Hopefully, it would work. It normally did.

She brought her hand back on the metal ring and waited.

━━━━

Harry Potter has been shocked many times in his life. He was shocked when he magically ended up on the roof of his school. He was shocked when Hagrid showed up at their front door, announcing that he was a wizard. You could say he was shocked when he found Quirrel instead of Snape at the end of the maze.

In fact, he was even shocked when the Dursleys shoved him inside Dudley's second bedroom at the beginning of summer instead of his shabby little cupboard.

But this. This wasn't shock. This was beyond it. Every other time something happened, Harry was able to recover very easily. Or find some sort of explanation right away.

For instance, the roof incident was most probably just the wind (the poor lad wasn't even considered for Ravenclaw, leave him alone). Hagrid used his umbrella-wand straight away so that was explained quite fast. Harry being wrong about the real villain of the story shouldn't be too surprising (again, he's not in Ravenclaw). And the Dursley's sudden 'considerate' behaviour must have something to do with Harry's recent acquisition of a wand.

All in all, fairly good explanations. But it seemed like he was having trouble making sense of the current situation.

Harry stared, eyes as wide as his mouth, at the doorway. He stood frozen in place, right in the middle of the hall as he took in the 12-year-old girl at the front door. Her hair was shorter than when he last saw her, barely reaching the line of her jaw now. The area under her eyes seemed more purple, making her tawny skin look lifeless. But her scowl was still in place and her shoulders still didn't rise and fall.

He faintly registered Aunt Petunia ask him a question. He didn't hear her though, still stunned at the sight of Adhara. She wasn't wearing her Hogwarts uniform and Harry realized it was the first time he saw her wearing civilian clothing. The blue jeans she had on barely reached her ankles and her grey hoodie looked worn out, with its frayed edges and faded colour. Her wand was sticking out of the pocket of her hoodie.

Adhara nudged her chin towards his aunt, which snapped Harry back to reality.

"Well?" Aunt Petunia's lips thinned into a line until they were barely visible. She craned her long neck down at her nephew, arms on her hips and foot tapping the floor, looking like she was waiting for Harry to answer her question.

But Harry didn't hear the question.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He hadn't meant to sound sarcastic, but it came off as such anyway. Maybe he was too used to it.

Aunt Petunia looked seconds away from exploding. Her lips disappeared completely as she pointed a finger towards Adhara Black.

"Who is that!? And how did she find my house?"

Harry looked back at Adhara. "That- Well. That's Adhara."

Petunia waited for him to continue. She was still tapping her foot.

"Adhara Black. My-uhm." He didn't know what to call her. His classmate? His friend? They had a weird sort of relationship. He wouldn't call her his friend but he trusted her enough to tell her about his relatives. It's was weird. He tried to find the right word to describe Adhara and settled for the official term. "She's my god-sister."

The tapping stopped. "God-sister?"

"Yes."

"You don't have a godparent."

"Yes, I do actually. A godfather."

Petunia looked indignant. "Why are we raising you then?"

Harry wanted to argue that she hadn't really raised him but bit his tongue. He simply answered the question.

"Because he's in prison."

"....what?" Her voice sounded a bit quieter, but Harry couldn't be too sure.

"Yes, he umm-"

"Killed a few people," Adhara, thankfully, cut him off. "He's a murderer."

Harry got his second shock of the day. How could she just tell people that? Especially to Aunt Petunia. A murderer's niece, at her doorstep! That was completely out of the ordinary! Not normal at all! Surely she'll drive her away now if she wasn't already planning on it before. 

He slowly turned his head back at his aunt, right in time to see the colour drain from her face.

"I-I see. And are you in contact with this. This godfather?"

Adhara's expression didn't change, it stayed just as calm, just as emotionless. "He's my uncle. And my only living relative."

"O-oh! Well-"

Adhara took her wand out of her pocket, letting it casually hang at her side.

Aunt Petunia's eyes practically bulged out of her head as she stared at it. She sneaked a look out the window, scared that one of the neighbours would catch them doing something abnormal. 

Harry scoffed then. He was starting to have enough of his aunt for today. "I think I should show her my room, now. Right?" He was finally finding his voice back.

Petunia glared at him. Her lips pursed once more and Harry could tell she was grinding her teeth together, something she did whenever one of the neighbours made an unpleasant comment and she had to continue to act civil, for fear she would come off as strange. Harry enjoyed seeing her that annoyed.

"I suppo-"

Harry didn't wait for her to finish. He grabbed a handful of Adhara's sleeve and darted upstairs, straight into his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him and he rested his head on the back, protectively keeping his arms over it to make sure no one would enter. Which he's sure no one would, but he wasn't thinking straight right now.

Adhara leaned against the edge of the bed, taking in the mostly empty room. "I thought you slept in a cupboard."

"How did you get here?!" He yelled instead. He didn't care for small talk. He wanted answers.

Adhara sighed. "You gave me your address on the train. Remember?" She rounded the bed towards Harry's desk, dragging a finger over the surface. Dust collected onto her finger, which she swiftly wiped on her jeans before looking back at Harry.

He watched her as she dropped a plastic bag on top of the table and sat on the wooden chair that was in front of it, acting as if she'd been here countless times before.

But Harry wasn't going to acquiesce in her indifferent behaviour. He still had a lot more questions and he wanted answers. "Why are you here?" None of this was making sense to him at all.

"Needed an excuse to get out of Aleyne," she shrugged. "Do you want me to leave? I brought food."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Food. McDonald's. Chips." She vaguely gestured at the grey bag. Adhara took in Harry's shabby appearance, making Harry grip the hem of his large white shirt. "Want some?"

"I don't need your pity." Harry frowned.

"It's not pity. It's my lunch."

"Then you eat it."

"I already ate my burger."

"Then keep the rest for tomorrow."

"It's McDonald's, Harry. You can't leave McDonald's for the day after, it'll spoil." She took a brown bag out of the plastic one and set it on the bed.

Harry huffed his cheeks. He didn't need anyone's help, but he could smell the chips from where he was standing. And Adhara extended a burger towards him, wrapped in yellow paper like it was some sort of peace offering.

Crossing his arms in front of him, Harry tried his best to resist but Adhara kept waving the burger under his nose and he didn't eat breakfast yet. He licked his lips. "I never had a McDonald's burger before."

"There's a first time for everything."

Harry eyed her, still quite frustrated at the situation, still very confused as to what just happened, but even he couldn't deny the small bit of relief he felt when he saw her at the door. He reached out and grabbed the burger out of Adhara's hand.

━━

Adhara watched as Harry swallowed his sandwich in only three massive bites. She couldn't help but wonder if he picked up the habit from his redhead of a friend. Or perhaps he was just that hungry. Her nose wrinkled against her will anyway.

"Do you think your relatives will let you leave the house?"

Harry stopped midway from reaching for the chips. Adhara's original plan didn't involve taking him out of this house. It only involved getting her out of Aleyne. Harry was meant to only be an excuse. But maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the process of planning this entire thing, she realized she was putting more effort into reaching Surrey than she did in escaping the orphanage.

And besides, the radiator reeked with the smell of hot oil. She was not staying here.

"No, I don't think so.

"Why not? Have you ever tried?"

"I don't think we should risk it."

Adhara raised a brow. "Don't want to risk it? Aren't you Harry Potter, the most reckless student of Gryffindor House?"

"I'm not that reckless-"

"You illegally smuggled a dragon."

"You're never letting that go, are you?"

"Never."

The side of Harry's mouth quirked up. But that quickly disappeared when he remembered the topic on hand. "Aunt Petunia already doesn't want you here. She might get rid of you completely if we ask to leave."

"Oh, so you do want me to stay?" she teased.

He snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he just implied. He gave Adhara a pointed look. "Oh, shove off." He made a grab for his pillow to throw it in her direction but Adhara slapped it away fairly easily.

Both his brows rose up. She stood on the other side of the room, so her speed had impressed him. "You'd make a good keeper."

"I rather be chaser."

Now, that surprised Harry. Again.

"What?"

"You heard me. But we are getting off-topic, your aunt won't do anything. She's too scared."

Harry's head tilted to the side. He waited for her to clarify.

Adhara sighed once more. She thought it was obvious, why wasn't he getting it? "She's scared of our godfather. Didn't you notice?"

He shook his head.

"She is. And she thinks he and I are keeping in contact. So in extension, she's afraid of me."

"But you're not in contact with him. Right?"

"No, obviously. But she doesn't know."

"Obviously," he mocked, just to be annoying. "How come?"

Adhara ignored that. She had her arms crossed when she continued: "I didn't deny it when she asked. Told her instead that he was the only living relative I've got left. So she assumes we must be writing or something."

She watched as realization drew to his face and had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"Not to mention we can always just threaten her with magic. But I'm assuming you're already doing that."

Harry didn't even bother denying it. Of course, he was. It was the smart thing to do. And after what she just told him, he didn't think Adhara would care.

"Good. Now grab your wand and a jumper. It's cold out."

"I only have the one Mrs. Weasley made me for Christmas."

"Then I guess we're buying you a jumper today."

━━━━

Harry didn't believe Adhara when she said she'd be back the following week. All they did the first day she showed up was walk into three different thrift shops and buy Harry three new jumpers—Harry didn't have money, so Adhara paid for him, but he promised he'd pay her back. It wasn't anything extravagant, and he thought she might have been bored (but honestly, who could tell what she was feeling).

He didn't think she'd be back, and yet, exactly six days later, Adhara was once again standing at the doorway of the Dursleys, with her grey hoodie, but this time she wore black trousers instead.

Adhara somehow managed to convince the Dursleys to let them out again—Uncle Vernon was there this time. He looked just as pale as Aunt Petunia. Harry noticed how Adhara always innocently held onto her wand whenever she spoke to them. Always loosely hanging at her side, but she never pointed it at them.

Harry should start learning some of her tricks.

(But mostly, he thought it was because they got to get rid of him for few hours. It was a win-win situation for both parties.)

The morning was chilly, so Harry thought he could get away with wearing one of his new jumpers. But as they reached the museum, the sun started to make an appearance, and now he was regretting his choice. He curled his fingers along the hem of the jumper, bright red with black stripes. He thought Adhara and he might stick out, two kids walking into a museum without any adults, but as he took in the several groups of children that surrounded them, he realized that they blended right in.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was excited to get inside. There were posters of dinosaurs everywhere, and Harry never saw a dinosaur exposition before. The Dursleys normally left him with Miss Figs whenever they brought Dudley anywhere. And, on the rare occasion they couldn't find anyone to babysit, Dudley made sure to ruin the day for him. But his aunt and uncle weren't here today, and neither was Dudley. So they weren't a problem.

The only problem was the security guy who was checking everyone's ticket.

Adhara spoke first: "I'll go buy our tickets, wait here." She started to make her way towards the ticket booth when Harry caught her by the elbow.

"Wait! I-" he paused, trying to find his words.

Adhara simply stared.

"I don't want you to buy my ticket," he continued. "You already bought me jumpers." He grabbed a fistful of the fabric of the one he wore today, clutching onto it tightly.

Adhara noticed how uncomfortable he looked. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

Harry started to think. He inspected his surroundings again, carefully taking in every detail. A lot of people seem to be coming and going out of the museum: there was a family of five, two grandparents and their grandchildren, several groups from day camps all wearing the same colour shirts. Some groups wore blue, others wore yellow, and one other group had red t-shirts on. Kids entered the building, all in tow. Their parents or their camp counsellors handed the security guard a bundle of tickets, and the guard let them in with a smile on their face. They would then shift their attention to the next adult.

Harry got an idea then. He let go of his red sweater and met Adhara's eyes again. "What colour shirt are you wearing under your hoodie?"

Adhara furrowed her brows.

━━

It turned out Adhara wasn't wearing a red shirt under her hoodie. She didn't even own anything red. That didn't matter at the end as the guard barely took notice of if her when they snuck in with the red t-shirt wearing camp kids. They went their own way the minute there were no more guards in sight. Still, Adhara mentioned how it'd be a good idea to stick close to a family or another day camp in case they raised any suspicion. The idea turned out to be unnecessary since there were kids running about everywhere and no adults managed to control them.

At the end of the day, when the pair finally decided to leave, Adhara, without even looking at Harry, said: "You're sneakier than I thought."

Harry shrugged. Just because he got caught for breaking rules often didn't mean he never got away with some of it. "I have to sneak in food from the fridge at night sometimes," he said, and then realized how foolish he sounded.

He started to fiddle with the wrapper of the lollipop they got for free at the museum. But Adhara didn't comment. And Harry almost told her how the Hat offered him Slytherin.

Almost.

━━━━

When Adhara was eight years old, she sometimes snuck up to the third floor of Aleyne where the older kids stayed. She eavesdropped onto the conversations of the few of them who brought back stories from Hogwarts. She would listen and listen and listen until her heart felt full and her hands were cold again.

It was a habit she formed very fast. She thought it was a very useless habit, one that didn't really benefit her in any way, and yet it was one she kept still.

Adhara looked forward to these weekly meetups. They never caught her so far, so she kept sneaking out. Crouching by the door of their bedroom, hands on her ankles, she sat right at the corner of the hall where she could stay hidden. It was nice to hear them talk about their dreams. There were four of them, and they were all turning 15 soon. They didn't dream of Hogwarts anymore, but of their life after Aleyne.

However, it sounded like tonight's topic wasn't Aleyne, nor was it Hogwarts. On nights like these, Adhara would exhale sharply out of annoyance and sneak back into her room.

But then, one of them said something that caught her attention.

"Why do you think he even had her? Wasn't he a Death Eater?"

"Must've regretted her the moment she popped out," another one added, "poor girl. Her mother left her for being magic and her father basically ran off when he found out about her."

Now, Adhara wasn't completely sure it was indeed her they were speaking of. Few others at Aleyne would fit that description. But that didn't change that she did as well. Her nails dug into her ankles.

She didn't want them to be right. But obviously, the same thoughts filled her head as well. It was the reason why she couldn't open her father's diary. Too afraid to find out his real thoughts about her. About her non-magical mother. About muggles in general.

He was a Death Eater after all. But then again, he sounded so genuinely caring in his letters that Adhara sometimes questioned if he really was.

Because why else would a Death Eater warn her about staying away from the Dark Lord?
Shouldn't he want her to join him?

Regulus Black was an enigma. Absolutely none of his stories added up. And why did he sound like he was so close to his death in the letters? Did he really get in too deep and tried to get out only to fail? Adhara herself, a half-blood, was living proof that he hadn't actually hated muggles. Or was she just a mistake? A mistake from which he had to run away?

Was she being delusional for trusting a mere stack of paper so much?

Adhara didn't know. And she didn't want to find out.

She hadn't realized she had her eyes snapped shut until she couldn't hear the faint whispers anymore. The lights of the bedroom were turned off, leaving Adhara in complete darkness. Holding her breath, she quietly made her way back to her bedroom, deciding that this was the last time she snuck out to listen to stories.

━━━━

When Harry was still very young, he thought Petunia was his mother.

It was hard to not think that. At first, he thought, the memories of his own mother might have been fresh enough for him to remember her, but those slowly faded away. Now, he could barely make out the colour of his mother's hair, all he saw was the dark outline of a silhouette. And for the longest time, he thought that silhouette belonged to his aunt.

You can't blame him for that. Petunia was the only female figure in his life, and Harry could barely remember how a real mother was supposed to be. It wasn't hard to believe that he mistook the indifferent look on her face for affection.

It was only when he noticed how differently she treated his cousin that he realized there was something wrong. And even then, he thought there was something wrong with him.

Because why else would a mother hate her own son?

Harry still remembered the first time he called her that. How angry she got and how she revealed to him that she wasn't his mother. That his own parents were dead and he was left all alone with no family.

After the incident, she made sure to remind him that he was unwanted here. A no good freak who was disrupting the otherwise perfect balance of her perfect family and life.

He didn't need her to. He knew he was unwanted. He saw it in the way they ignored him. He saw in the way they left him out of any family events. He saw it in the different way he and Dudley were treated.

It was obvious how different he was from them. He stuck out too much whenever they were seen together, with his older and dirtier clothes. With his messy and all-around uncontrollable hair and darker complexion. Harry had glasses and they did not. Harry always frowned and they always smiled. He was smaller and thinner than his cousin.

He was way too different from them.

Harry stood in front of the sink, elbows deep in dishwater. He still couldn't properly reach it and still required a stool. There was a window right above the sink so he could see the family outside. They were having lunch because, apparently, that's what normal, ordinary families did in the summer. They had their meals out in the garden while the youngest orphan cousin of the family did chores inside. In order to deserve his own lunch.

Rinsing the last of the plates, he reached at the bottom of the sink to unplug the drain. Harry scoffed at his own thoughts. He hopped off the stool and dried his arms on the towel.

He brought his attention back to the family outside. Harry wasn't as delusional as he was before. Petunia wasn't his mother. Dudley certainly wasn't his brother and Vernon was nowhere near his father.

He found it ridiculous that he ever thought they were. But memory was a funny thing. He couldn't even distinguish the memories of his own mother from the ones of his aunt, and yet he remembered this small detail. He remembered how angry Petunia got when the word left his mouth.

Aunt Petunia didn't get angry the same way his uncle did. When Vernon got angry, he always turned red. His face would puff out and his eyebrows would reach his hairline. And he always yelled.

But Aunt Petunia didn't do that. She shouted only at the small infractions. When she was really angry, when she was livid, Petunia goes completely quiet at first. She starts talking quietly, and slowly builds up from there. She looks at him with wide bulged-out eyes and by the end, the corners of her mouth are always quirked up.

She smiled when she was angry.

It was absolutely terrifying, and Harry has only seen her that mad three times. When he called her mum the first and only time; when a teacher from school noticed his mistreatment and called to check if everything was alright at home; and when Hagrid showed up with news about Hogwarts.

Harry dragged his eyes off the family on the other side of the window. He tugged on the edge of his large shirt with his wet hands, trying to even out his breathing again. He hadn't realized he got angry, and tried to tell himself there was nothing to be angry about.

Petunia spoke the truth when she was angry. Harry wasn't their family. And they weren't his. He should be relieved to not be part of the same family as folks like them, not angry.

Harry pushed the stool in front of the counter, where a stack of dishes and utensils were laid out. He grabbed the tea towel, climbed onto the stool, got on to dry them. The window wasn't in front of him anymore and the family was out of Harry's sight.

━━━━

Adhara and Harry decided they needed to visit Gringotts. Harry didn't want her buying him anything and, Adhara was running out of money anyway.

She asked Harry to retrieve his key that morning, but apparently, he didn't have it with him.

"What do you mean? Where is it?"

"Hagrid kept it. I suppose Dumbledore should have it by now."

They were outside the Dursley's house. It looked identical to the one next to it and the one next to that. Uniform houses were spread out throughout the neighbourhood, with no blot nor smudge in sight. It all looked too perfect to be true, nearing artificial.

Adhara sat on the edge of the sidewalk with her hand resting on the cement behind her. She was leaning back, putting all her weight onto her hands. Her winter mittens protected them from the gravel, so it didn't hurt much, but then again, she didn't really feel anything on her palms. Adhara stared up at Harry, who wasn't sitting but standing in the middle of the quiet street, right in front of her. And he had the audacity to look innocent.

Adhara didn't know what to say. How could someone be so dense? "Why didn't you keep it?"

"Don't know," he shrugged. "I don't exactly need money unless it's for school books and stuff."

Years of practice to keep her emotions in check and yet, somehow, this boy, who she's known for barely a year, always managed to get on her nerves. Adhara stared, trying her best to keep her face impassive, which, surprisingly, she found difficult to do.

But apparently, Harry was starting to get used to reading her because he could tell she was annoyed. He figured he's meant to, at the very least, look guilty, but he's never been able to show any other emotions than the ones he felt. And right now, he did not feel guilty. Not even in the slightest.

"What do we do now?"

Adhara let out a very slow breath, managing, somehow to not roll her eyes. Honestly, what else did she expect? "I suppose we talk to the goblins. Tell them you lost your key and they'll make you a new one."

Harry looked confused. "Can they do that?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't they? Believe it or not Harry, you aren't the first person to lose their key."

"Won't they be angry?"

"They're always angry."

━━

"Key?"

"I don't have it."

"You don't have it?"

"I lost it."  Harry thought he would've been more frightened in front of the goblins. He remembered the first time he came to the bank, how uncomfortable the whole situation made him. Though, he surprisingly found himself to be very calm as the goblin addressed him. Even when he pulled his lips back and exposed his pointy teeth.

"Well, Mr. Potter. Whatever shall we do then?" the goblin asked, seemingly quite amused at the boy's predicament.

But Harry didn't like being belittled, let alone underestimated. "You can make me a new key," he shot back, "After all, isn't that your job?"

He felt Adhara's hand on his wrist, silently telling him to stop antagonizing the goblins, but even he could tell she wasn't happy with their attitude.

The goblin's smile turned more icy. "I cannot simply give away the key to the Potter vault to any wizard who walks in here, claiming to be Harry Potter. I am afraid our security is more tight than that."

"You can do a heritage test," started Adhara, "to see if he really is a Potter."

Harry slid his hand into hers, gripping tightly. Harry may not be afraid of the goblin, he may even be slightly irritated by him, but that didn't change the fact they were still two kids (one, eleven and the other twelve) challenging a goblin. He also noticed how suddenly quiet the hall got. He couldn't hear the loud stamping and shuffling of the other bankers anymore. Harry thought the sudden chill in the room might have something to do with what Adhara just said.

The goblin switched his attention on her. He leaned in forward, his grin already gone, replaced with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes instead. He didn't wear glasses, but his long elongated finger still reached for the space between his eyes, as if to push back a pair he normally wore.

"Not many witches and wizards know about Gringott's blood rituals."

"Not many witches and wizards need to."

The creature swiped a tongue over his teeth, making ice run down Harry's spine. "And who might you be, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Adhara Black."

He glared once more, "I see." The goblin turned back towards the bespectacled boy, "If Mr. Harry Potter is alright with a heritage test, then we shall proceed to-"

"I am, " Adhara's hand tugged around his own for a second, "let's get this over with."

The goblin frowned.

An hour later, they were standing in front of the entrance to Gringott's, Harry was holding a brand new key in his hand.

"Don't lose it, and don't give it to anyone else."

"I'll try not to."

Adhara exhaled loudly, exasperated. Harry smiled.

━━━━

"You're ill."

"Am not."

"Are too."

It was raining outside, alternating from a slight drizzle to a shower almost every hour. It's been raining for about a week by now, and it didn't seem like it would stop any soon, keeping them stuck inside of the Dursley's home. It wasn't a full-on storm; the clouds weren't that dark, and it wasn't very windy either. If anything, it helped cool down the blazing heat from the week before.

Yet, Adhara sat in Harry's bed, coughing and sniffing and denying being sick.

"I think there's medicine downstairs."

"There's no need for that. I'm not ill."

Harry gave her an unimpressed look. He took in her watery eyes and red nose she desperately tried to keep dry. She kept glaring at him.

"I could bring you tea?"

"Your relatives wouldn't like that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't care. They don't like me anyway." He rushed out the door before Adhara could protest any more.

His relatives were in the living room, occupying themselves with the telly. It was a weekday, so his uncle was at work, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were the only ones there. Harry tried to tiptoe into the kitchen, as to not bring any attention to himself, but of course, that didn't work. Petunia could hear gossip about their neighbours from the other side of the fence, she obviously noticed her nephew's footsteps no matter how quiet he was being.

"What are you doing? What do you want?"

Harry stopped in his track. His aunt was sitting in the living room chair, knitting needles in hand. Dudley was too engrossed with whatever he was watching on the television to actually pay attention to him. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Tea. I was going to make some tea for Adhara." He didn't have his wand with him, it was back in his room. He couldn't threaten her with a pig's tail if he needed to, so he had to think of something else.

"And why would you be allowed to do that?" She threw the needles into the basket of yarn and stood up. "She comes into my house, stays under my roof, and now she dares to demand tea? Absolutely not!"

"She keeps coughing and-" He had to think of something else. His wand was in his room, Adhara was also in his room, most probably still coughing because she was sick but she didn't believe she was sick and she needed tea and he needed to form a plan but his wand up in his room with Adha-.

Adhara.

Adhara never threatened with magic. She always had her wand, yes, but she never explicitly used it. She tended to go for another method. Something more efficient, more sneaky.

And Harry knew how to be sneaky.

He balled his fists inside his pocket. "-and it makes it hard to write, you see. Thought tea might help her."

Petunia paled. "Wri-write? What are you writing?"

Harry tried not to smirk. "Her uncle wrote back yesterday. She wanted to include me in the letters, so we decided to write back to him today." Harry didn't like Sirius Black. Not at all. But he did admit his name came in pretty handy. "But she keeps coughing and sneezing, which gets in the way. You wouldn't mind if I got her a cup of tea, would you? Merlin knows what her uncle would do if her letters arrive late." And just to be certain that his comment had the effect he wanted, he added, "you know, cause he's in prison. For murder. Cause he's a murderer."

He watched his aunt's mouth open and shut a few times before she stole on her words."N-no. Of course not." She stumbled back into her seat, gulping slightly before speaking again: "Kettle's already out."

"Wonderful." Harry grinned.

━━━━

The record shop wasn't new. But it wasn't very old either. The owner must be a very passionate collector because every inch of the shop was occupied by either a vinyl record, some old shellac records or some sort of record player. The walls were covered with an ugly floral wallpaper, which someone desperately tried to hide with many, many posters.

The shop had two floors. Upstairs, a record player was available for the customers, allowing them to listen to the many albums before purchasing them.

"Which one do you wanna listen to next?"

Adhara scanned the pile of albums in front of them before picking one up at random.

They listened to the first one only halfway through before realizing neither of them actually liked the music it played. They picked up five albums in total and planned on listening to more later if possible.

Harry raised a brow at her choice. "Really? That looks so plain and boring. It's all white."

"The muggle-borns at Aleyne keep talking about a band their parents always used to listen to," she shrugged. "This is them."

Harry only nodded before opening the envelope. Neither of them actually planned on buying one, it's not like they owned a record player or anything. But it was nice to simply sit down and listen to old hits. There wasn't anyone downstairs when they came in, so the both of them thought they could get away with spending a few hours at the shop. After all, this sitting area was made to do just that, right?

They thought wrong.

A tall, quite lanky-looking, man appeared from the stairway right at the beginning of the fourth song. Brown hair was combed neatly against his scalp, and it looked like he used gel to keep it flat in place. The man, who was most probably the owner, was donning a leather jacket that matched his dark trousers.

It didn't suit him at all.

"Out!"

Harry and Adhara exchanged a look before looking back at the owner. His nostrils flared with every breath he took, and the finger he was pointing at the stairs was slightly shaking. He held a phone with his other hand.

The kids didn't understand why he looked so angry. They weren't doing anything wrong at all. Wasn't the point of this place to listen to music? Maybe they took too many albums?

Harry spoke first. He knew how to talk back at angry adults. "The records are all intact, don't worry. We'll put them back."

"No. You aren't going to touch any of them anymore! I don't need your dirty little hands ruining my collection!"

Adhara spoke next. She knew best how to stand up for another. "We didn't ruin them. They're still in perfect condition. We're sorry about the mess, we'll clean it up."

The owner heaved in one last breath. "Don't you get it? I don't want you anywhere near my records. I want the likes of you out of my shop!"

Adhara took in their shabby appearance and thought at first that might be the problem. But Harry caught on faster.

She grabbed her satchel, planning on paying for at least one of the albums.

She presented a stack of muggle money to the man. "Look, we can afford one. We'll just buy one from you, that way we won't have any more problems, right?"

The owner, for some reason, turned even more red when he saw the bills. "Where did you get that? Did you steal it?!"

"What?" Adhara narrowed her eyes. "No," she stated calmly, "this is ours."

Harry, on the other hand, had enough. He didn't like how the man was implying Adhara to be a thief. "Look, sir. We weren't doing anything wrong. If we weren't allowed to listen to the records, why are there so many record players available for us?"

The man snapped his attention at him. "They aren't available for you. They're for the customers." He said the word 'you' with the same tone as the Dursley's said 'freak'. Venom and disgust leaked off the words as they left his mouth.

Harry felt his throat tighten the way it always did in these situations. He marched up straight to the man, jaw locked in place and jabbed a finger right in his chest. "We are customers, you shithead. Maybe those leather pants are cutting the circulation to your brain because it sounds like you're unable to comprehend that we can afford to buy your collection. And no, we didn't steal the money!"

"Why, you-!" The man snatched the front of Harry's shirt, but the eleven-year-old didn't seem to care. He kept glaring at the shop-owner, finger still placed at his chest. He wasn't going to let him kick him around.

Never.

The owner drew back his arm, the one holding his phone, intending to swing at the kid. But before he could make contact, a record hit him at the back of his head, before bouncing off and falling to the ground.

He twisted his head around, coming face to face with Adhara. She strapped her satchel across one shoulder and pointed a wand at the man.

"Adhara, you can't-"

"Harry, run."

"Wha-"

The shop owner barked a laugh. "What's that supposed to be? A stick? Gonna do a magic trick, kid?"

Adhara tucked in her chin, making her eyes look like they were sticking out. Her mouth twisted into a threatening smirk when she remarked: "The stick's quite pointy. Comes in handy when poking eyeballs out. Want me to try it on you?"

The man froze. She didn't look like she was kidding.

Harry took the man's momentary shift of attention to push him away. He grabbed the record that was still playing to throw it at the man too. It wouldn't break, but it was thin and sharp looking, so maybe if he threw it right, it would hurt him-

Wait, what? Hurt?

"No! Not that one! The White Album is expensive!" the owner yelled when he realized what Harry was about to do. It snapped Harry back to reality.

He raised both his brows. Seriously?

"Step back and maybe I'll reconsider."

The man walked away from both of them, hands up defensively. Adhara joined Harry's side as they maneuvered close to the staircase. They gave one last look at each other before Harry smiled.

He stared right into the man's eyes and said, "Here's your album back, asshole." And then he let go of it, letting it fall onto the floor.

Adhara grabbed Harry's forearm and yanked him downstairs. They heard shouts from behind them, but they were too busy trying to escape the place to actually decipher the words. They ran out of the store and into the streets.

They ran and ran and ran until they couldn't see any more shops, any more people and any more buildings. There was only the occasional car, a field of grass on the side and a road leading to a highway.

They both heaved for air, hands on their knees as they stood on the narrow sidewalk.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Do what?"

"Saving me."

"I didn't save you from anything."

"Yeah, you did. From Midge, from the Dursley's and now from that store guy."

"I didn't save you from the Dursley's at all. You still live with them." Adhara took in one last breath and stood up straight.

Harry followed. "So you admit. You are trying to save me."

"I'm not trying to save you, I'm using you. I get to stay out of Aleyne this way."

He paused for a second. His eyes trailed to her hands, where she was wearing threadbare winter mittens instead of her usual silk gloves. And then he said: "I wish I could get you out of there."

Adhara waited for a beat too long before replying. "Why?"

"Just because."

"You won't get anything out of it."

"I know."

She mulled over the new information. Thinking over her words in her head, she finally said: "I wish I could get you out of the Dursley's."

And she meant it.

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