Summary: Muggle friends, that is. The morbid, beaten-but-not-broken virtuosos from the rough side of Little Whinging turned out to be some of the best friends a reluctant hero could ask for. Even if they did have ridiculous names.

Disclaimer: I only own my OCs and their band.

And now... ALLONS Y!

Prologue

Seven-year-old Harry Potter hesitated at the fork in the road. Left or right? The heavy footsteps of Dudley and his friends behind him forced him into making a quick decision. He tore off down the left-hand road, quickly leaving his overweight cousin behind. It was only when the houses became run down and the streets became covered in graffiti that he realised he probably should have gone right.

He slowed to a walk, instinctively hunching his shoulders and trying to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Not wanting to return to the Dursleys, where Dudley - and a mountain of chores - was sure to be waiting, he ventured further into the labyrinth of ramshackle concrete flats.

After about five minutes of walking aimlessly, he heard a young girl's voice call out, "Lorcan?"

No reply.

"Lorcan?" the girl called again. More silence. The girl tried again, sounding more annoyed than amused, as she had before. "Lorcan, where the hell are you? This isn't funny anymore, it'll be dark soon."

Harry turned into the darkened alley where the voice came from to find a girl he recognised from school, Trixabelle Loukas. Behind her stood her twin brother, Ezekiel. They were in the same class as him, and Dudley hated them and their best friend Lorcan Khale - who was a year older than Harry and appeared to be missing - almost as much as he hated Harry. They were also the only people in the class who were shorter than Harry - though their extra few metres of attitude more than compensated.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, the twins turned to face Harry. Upon realising that he wasn't their errant best friend, Trixabelle asked: "Who are you?"

"H-Harry Potter," he replied nervously. He'd heard rumours about the black-haired, blue-eyed, half-Greeks, and he wasn't particularly interested in finding out whether there was any truth to them.

"The Dursley kid's cousin?" she remembered. "I hate that bastard." Well, apparently the rumours about her vocabulary were true. "I'm Trix Loukas, by the way. This is Trouble, my twin."

"S-sorry about Dudley," Harry apologised. "I'll help you look for your friend if you want."

"You don't have to say sorry; you get beaten up by your dickhead cousin even more often than we do, it's not your fault," Trouble brushed off his apology. "But if you could help us find Lorcan, that'd be great. It's not safe to stay out after dark here, and he knows it."

"S-sure, Dudley's probably still l-looking for me, and I d-don't want to go back while he's still outside."

"Well, if you help me find us, you can sleep at my house for the night if you want," Trix offered. "Mum and Dad won't mind, they're cool like that."

"I-I'd like that," Harry agreed tentatively. "I mean, i-if you don't mind."

"Course we don't, wouldn't have offered if we did." Trouble grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him out of the darkened alley back to the street, either ignoring or not noticing his flinch. "Now, let's go find the idiot we're forced to call our best friend before he gets himself killed."

They found him three blocks away, cornered by a group of thirteen-year-olds.

"What are you doing down here, little guy?" the biggest taunted him.

"Trying to avoid you," Lorcan replied. He was a good six inches taller that Trouble's three-foot-nine (Trix, despite being the older twin, was an inch shorter than Trouble), but even though he was tall for an eight-year-old, the teenagers still towered over him. "Doesn't seem to be working, though. I think I'll have to try somewhere else, so if you'd just let me go - "

He tried to dodge around one of the older boys, who caught him roughly by the arm. And quickly dropped him when Trouble kicked him in the back of the knee, causing his legs to give out beneath him. Trix pulled Lorcan away from the group and ducked into another side alley as the teenagers started to chase them.

When their footsteps faded away, Trix reached up to Lorcan's shoulders and shook him roughly. Lorcan didn't bother resisting, but just stood there and took it like it was a regular occurrence.

"Don't worry," Trouble whispered into Harry's ear, "that's normal for them."

"Dammit, Lorcan, what don't you understand about "don't stay out after dark"?" she shouted. "You know it's too dangerous! Elian's only six and he knows better than to stay out! Are you trying to get yourself killed, you idiot?"

"Of course I'm not!" Lorcan snapped back, his voice wobbling as Trix was still apparently trying to dislodge his head from his shoulders. "I was looking for you guys before those jackasses cornered me."

Trix relented in her shaking and pulled Lorcan into a rib-crushing hug. "You should have just gone home and waited for us. We would have gotten back fine."

"And what if you'd run into those guys from earlier? What would you've done then, huh?"

"Ran like hell, like you should have." She glared at the taller boy as she pulled back.

"I'm sorry, okay? Now let's go before they catch up to us. Who's the little guy?" Lorcan asked as they started walking, Harry following silently.

"Harry Potter, and he's taller than me," Trouble answered.

"Everyone's taller than you. You're Dursley's cousin, right?" The question was directed at Harry.

"Y-yeah."

Lorcan winced sympathetically. "And I thought putting up with my family was bad. At least I've still got Elian." Elian was Lorcan's little brother, a year below Harry and the twins. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain (so naturally Dudley and his gang missed it) that Lorcan doted on his brother, and anyone who messed with him would get their teeth kicked in.

Trix and Trouble coughed quietly and raised an eyebrow each with creepy synchronisation.

"And the twins and their family, of course," Lorcan amended quickly, unconsciously stepping back from the short duo.

"Better," Trix smiled sweetly and turned to Harry. "He's not quite fully trained yet, but he's improving slowly. Now, we really should get back before Mum and Dad start a search party."

Harry smiled to himself as he and his new companions sped up. Sure, they were violent, more than a little crazy, and Aunt Petunia would most definitely not approve, but he sort of liked these kids.

A/N: I didn't grow up in the best of areas, and I do know seven-year-olds that swear worse than Trix and Trouble. Just so I don't get any pissy comments about the vocabulary of seven-year-olds. Also, I know most thirteen-year-olds wouldn't beat up a little kid, but in OotP, Dudley and his friends - who were fifteen at the time - beat up a ten-year-old, so I'm allowed to make assumptions. And yes, their names are ridiculous sort of ridiculous, but who in Little Whinging knows how to give a kid a normal name? You've got Dudley, Piers... need I go on?