I walk up to the necklace that I'm about to steal for the shadows. It's suppose to give luck to the person who wears it. Suddenly I hear a voice, "Need a little luck?".

"I fear killing Voldemort is more complex than that." Lily's glare threatens death. Of poison being in those damn lemon drops of his. "Then explain the complex to me. I'm a fast as well as a good study."

"We both love Harry," It's not a question, it's a statement. It doesn't matter they are not Harry's parents nor his guardians. It never did and it never will - not since Ron had wrote and confided to her before Christmas on his first year.

Somethings can be changed while others, sadly, cannot. Ariana can live, Grindlewald can be mysteriously killed, Tom can be adopted, but Hagrid is expelled, James and Lily are murdered, Harry is raised by the Dursleys and should have been an Obscurus. Or Harry grows up thinking he might be insane instead of the freak he told he is.

Harry and Gellert Grindelwald have a chat. (Takes place before Iocane Powder.)

Different drabbles based on the dinner scene in Order of the Phoenix.

It was about a minute before a boy, a tiny boy with clothes that looked as though they might shallow him whole, with familiar looking taped glasses and vivid green eyes that till this day Ariana could recall stepped into the hallway. Merlin was he a tiny thing. "Aunt Petunia?" The boy asked cautiously to the woman (Aunt Petunia apparently) all the while staring at Ariana.

Lily's father was a muggle; his father was anything but a muggle - a mere mortal. Yet those facts do nothing to calm the jealousy that rages within him. And why should it? She had his eyes and perhaps that had been why he'd been willing to throw pearls before swine; willing to let the fool of a women live.

Harry has know abuse, death (not death with a capital d that wore the faces of its victims but death with a lower case d) and war in so much of his young (but not young) life. Sometimes it's nice to have peace; to cook, play with Ariana and her goats and, you know, adopt a mass murderer that had killed his parents.

Ariana is quiet. She doesn't talk much. She's learnt that if you're silent you can listen and observe better than you ever could if you were talking. She's also knows if you're silent then those monsters who wore boyish faces would not get anymore perverse satisfaction but she tends to try think about that day and the days that followed afterward.

Whoever said that the wicked had no rest was wrong. No. It was always the hero, always him, that didn't get to rest. Never gets to greet death. He shouldn't be surprised. He's the boy who lived after all. Or was he was the boy that could never die?

The atmosphere of the dinner was already something of a shatterpoint. Aberforth for once in his life was keeping his mouth shut and just eerily watched those around him. He wonders briefly if anyone can feel how tense and wrong this dinner was. No, he doubts anyone at this table does. Albus was too lovesick over Grindelwald. The blonde wizard that was a 'match' for him and his magi

"Why are you helping us? Helping Ariana?" Aberforth asks as Albus is sorting out his thoughts. Harry gives them smile. It doesn't reach his sad eyes that are the color of the unforgivable Avada Kedavra. "Because I could have been one too."

Harry's life (and there for Ron and Hermione's too) and safety at Hogwarts had been as existent as the grace a freshman has when pulling off a panty girdle. Which is a rather crude way of saying none at all. It takes a game of Never Have I Ever to realize that.

Aberforth isn't a father and he failed being a brother but unlike Albus, who put this child in this situation, he wouldn't fail the baby in his arms. (Or Aberforth hears McGonagall ranting at the Three Broomsticks about having to leave Harry with those horrible muggles and decides to "kidnap" the Boy Who Lived so he won't have the same fate as his poor sister.)

When Harry had freed Dobby the last thing he excepted was to see the house elf again but once Dobby shows up at his room Harry can't find it in himself to kick the house elf out. (Side fic to The Definition of Good. Takes place after chapter one of but before chapter two.)

Harry could just close his eyes and imagine Ron's blunt questions, Hermione's knowing (pitying) eyes and questions of why. Perhaps here was a good place after all. Lupin didn't seem terrible. But then again so had stammering Quirrell whose classroom stunk of garlic in fear of a vampire he'd anger coming back. So had Lockhart who,while annoying and useless, besides signing a letter-

Harry can't help but remember the chocolate cake slices and hours of looking at photos of gg's cats, the warm - to the point he feels as though they may burn him - embraces from Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore's soft spoken promises and words that might as well be empty, of Sirius' offer of Harry living with him just gone in a blink of eye because he fell into a veil Harry's godfat-

Harry frees Dobby and ends up adopted by the house-elf. And said house-elf does not at all like the prospect of the wizard who freed him from slavery becoming an obscurus. Originally posted on ao3.

"Why are you helping us? Helping Ariana?" Aberforth asks as Albus is sorting out his thoughts. Harry gives them smile. It doesn't reach his sad eyes that are the color of the unforgivable Avada Kedavra. "Because I could have been one too."