AN: Hey guys. Chasing Destinies is definitely on hiatus. While I'm trying to work myself out of that hole, I have this new story to keep entertainment up. I'm having a lot of fun writing it and would like any feedback you have. Flames are ignored and criticisms are mulled over. Enjoy!

Children of the Sun: Chapter 1 – "Can you keep a secret?"

Harry Potter really wanted to get drunk.

It had been awhile since Ron and he had last been out. Stress and mountains of paperwork never served to relax him either. That and since the Break-up, he hadn't really been with a girl. Thus, the Boy-Who-Lived turned Auror desperately wanted to get plastered.

Looking around his apartment in London yielded nothing and Harry sighed as he realized a need to go out. Out where people wanting his unfinished paperwork lingered. Out where female friends thought they knew best and annoyed him to death. Out in a world he had saved five years ago and was still receiving frenetic thanks for as though it had just happened.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, Harry dragged a hand over his face before sighing, grabbing his wand and coat, and walking out the door.

He hadn't walked a block before the first person stopped him. "Mr. Potter." He looked over his shoulder. It was an elderly woman with white curly hair and soft, gentle eyes.

He stopped. He didn't know why but he always stopped for these things. It was the larger crowds of all girls that he refused. "Ma'am." He put on his best smile, hoping she would get what she wanted and leave him the hell alone.

"I just wanted to thank you, young man. Thank you from every bit of magic within me. You're destined for great things." She smiled slowly and nodded gravely before beginning to walk again.

"You're welcome, ma'am." He waved after her with his smile in place until she turned a corner. Then his hand and smile dropped and he took off on his journey again. 'Destined for great things?' He snorted. 'Been there, done that, forgot to buy a t-shirt, but I can mail you a coffee mug.'

Harry wanted nothing more to do with great things. He had beat Voldemort and he was through. He just wanted to be an Auror and handle all the little things now. 'Strange thanks though. All the magic within her? Sounds like either a blessing or a curse-' The young Potter shook his head. 'Draco's right. I'm bloody paranoid. I've been fighting so long.' As he turned a corner, he rolled his eyes. 'Blegh. Next I'll be saying Hermione's right too and I need to get back together with Gin-' He shook his head. 'Alcohol is needed.'

Two steps later, he encountered a nightmare.

Yelling girls, waving magazines, and large numbers.

'Shite, a fanclub mob.'

Really not in the mood for it, Harry pretended he didn't see them and tried to go around them. But when the first little witch began to scream with excitement, he stopped caring what it looked like and took off at a run. They followed but he was faster. Running from Deatheaters every day would make anyone run fast. That and playing Seeker in Quidditch at the Weasley's had kept Harry in shape.

When their voices started to get fainter, Harry looked over his shoulder. They were still following. It was a tenacious group today. Some had fallen behind but most of the mob still tore after him.

Slightly frantic, Harry ducked around a corner and walked through the first door he saw. Closing the door, he leaned against it and sighed. Then he turned and looked around.

'I've died and gone to heaven.'

It was a small Muggle bar. Few people were in it, none looked like wizards, and they were all engrossed in the American football on TV.

Approaching the bar, he tried fruitlessly to tame his hair. While he didn't hold for appearances much, there were a couple ladies in the room. He didn't want to look completely ragged. Certainly not as though he'd just run from a mob. Taking a seat at the bar itself, he checked his pocket to make sure he had Muggle money.

A few minutes later, Harry was happily drinking whiskey and watching Americans beat up on each other. Paperwork was far from his mind. Nosy female friends were forgotten. And a need to get laid was pushed from the insistent part of his thoughts to a darker corner.

Then the door opened again, and he was astoundingly glad to be a man.

She was small, blond, Japanese, and looked as though she'd been dragged through hell.

Harry Potter knew that look intimately as he used to see it in the mirror every day. But his attention did not stay on her pitiful look. It didn't even stay on the oddest hairstyle he'd ever seen. Instead, he found his gaze his gaze drawn to her hands. They were lax at her sides and hung there as though they were so heavy they were about to fall off.

Shuffling inside, she approached the bar and Harry got a good look at her. 'Beautiful,' he thought. She was dressed in a smart grey-silver business suit with a long skirt and low-heeled shoes. It complimented her and after giving her a stealthy appreciative twice-over, he focused on her features. Beautiful blue eyes, little ears and nose, and a luscious pink mouth that looked to be made for kissing.

When her head began to turn his way, he jerked his gaze to the nearest TV and felt a blush rise in his cheeks. 'Calm down, Potter! It's not like a cute girl has never looked as you before.' He brought his whiskey to his lips and knew the movement was mechanical. But he also knew her eyes were on him and he couldn't find a way to make his mind work. He tried his hardest to be involved in the TV but it wasn't to be.

"Excuse me?"

'English? Wow.' He looked at her, his flush getting worse. "Yes?"

She pointed in the general vicinity of his lap. "Your stick is about to fall out."

'!!' Harry was speechless and just gawked at her a moment. 'And they say British are forward!'

"Sir?"

"Pardon?" He managed to strangle out.

She merely gestured again. Although, she seemed to have caught on to his train of thought and was blushing as well.

Looking down, he was afraid he was going to see his fly undone or a badly placed gaping hole in his old comfy jeans. Instead, he saw his wand poking out of his front pocket. 'Oh… my stick…'

Tucking it back into the pocket, he nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

Her blue eyes turned slightly piercing and a familiar echo beat inside him. "I've never seen on like that before."

He froze. 'Is she a witch?' He turned a newly appraising eye to the blond. She seemed desperate for some contact and was searching for conversation. Swallowing slowly, he asked, "Are they different in Japan?"

She bit her lip and looked around. No one was paying them any attention. When she met his curious green eyes, she sparkled with mischief. "Can you keep a secret?"

Harry Potter's left eyebrow twitched.

"Airen?"

"Ran-chan?"

He was hiding and for once it seemed his pursuers couldn't find him. Their voices spoke to someone near his hiding place and a deep rumbled reply sent them moving along. But they were on a plane and hiding places were limited.

As it was the three knocks on the compartment door told him the coast was clear and he could sneak out.

Rolling out of Hibiki Ryoga's overhead bin, Saotome Ranma quickly squeezed past his favorite rival and took the window seat. "Thanks, Ryoga. I'd hate to see what happened if they started to fight on a plane."

The Lost Boy simply nodded and looked around. "If this plane goes down, we'll never have the chance to find the cure Nabiki thinks she found."

Both boys grinned.

Looking out the window, Ranma thought to himself, 'That's right. A cure. Who would have thought it would turn up in England?'