I have found it! I have learned that I may call upon my own Quickening and give it to my son. Once I have transferred it, I will be but a mortal witch. This is a small price to pay to ensure that my child will grow up. Should the killing curse ever be turned on him, it will ‘kill’ my Quickening and leave Harry’s un-activated and able to protect him at another time in his life. I will perform the spells tonight while James meets with Albus.

Harry closed his eyes as tears leaked out. He had again been ordered back to Privet Drive by Dumbledore at the end of the school year, despite the fact that more than one person tried to talk him into letting Harry stay at Headquarters. The Order members had decided that if Dumbledore insisted Harry go back, they would do what they could to insure he was treated better. His aunt had taken the warnings from the Order seriously and had not given him any chores and had even gone so far as to dig around in the attic to locate his mother’s school trunk for him.

He had never guessed at the secrets he would find within the pages of the journals he had unearthed at the bottom of the trunk. Not only was he not related to Petunia Dursley by blood, a fact that apparently Dumbledore knew, his mother was Immortal; meaning she would live forever and apparently, they went around cutting each others heads off! Of course because his mother was Immortal, he was as well. So even if he did manage to defeat Voldemort he was still going to have to run around checking over his shoulder to see if there was someone with a sword ready to hack away at his neck, for the rest of his life!

When Harry had decided to go through the trunk, he had hoped to take his mind off of Sirius’s death and the prophecy. He never imagined finding a new set of problems. He couldn’t tell the Wizarding world of his Immortality. That much was made clear by his mother’s journal, so what should he do now?

Harry wiped his eyes before picking up the journal to continue reading. He could only hope that there would be some kind of answer somewhere in it that would help him.

I have performed the spell and I know that it worked. I can already feel the loss of my Quickening. I know now I will not see my little boy grow up to be a man. It will not be me that teaches him to tie his shoes, sing Christmas carols nor will I be there to teach him to wield his sword. I can only hope that he finds a teacher as good as Adam Pierson, who taught me.

That was the answer. His mother’s teacher, Adam Pierson, was an Immortal and unless someone had taken his head in the last 20 years, he was still around.

Harry quickly reached for his quill and parchment, planning to send a plea to this Adam person to teach him as he had taught his mother.