Hi everybody, dreamschemer here. I've been on a bit of a writing binge, and started this new story. It's an AU x-men/harry potter crossover which integrates and changes the plots of both stories. It is written in two parts: part one in England, part two in America, though they won't be written in full, consecutive blocks. Imagine it instead as two different world views, perhaps. Eventually the two will merge.

Other than that, I'm pretty sure the English call flashlights 'torches', if anyone's confused. If you're English and what I'm saying is completely untrue, I'm sorry and tell me what you do call them.

Harry Potter and the X-Men are in no way mine either, btw.

PART I: Life in England

Ch. 1- Lucky Boy

Harry Potter was never destined to be a lucky boy.

At the tender age of one, he'd lost his parents. By one and a half, he was sent to live with a family that would care nothing for him. By the age of four, he'd learned to stay well away from his beach ball cousin, and by age seven he'd been washing all the dishes and taken up most of the garden work. So it might not come as a surprise that at the age of eight, little Harry Potter was abandoned on the streets of London.

But it did come as a surprise to Harry.

He remembered the day clearly; despite the near year that had passed. The Dursleys were going into the city looking for upper tier schools (which would surely accept their gifted Dudley), and had taken Harry with them at the last moment after finding out Mrs. Figg was sick with a cold. It had been an amazing treat for him since he rarely got to go into the city. Harry thought he had lucked out at the time, though now he knew wrong.

Harry had dutifully followed along behind the Dursleys at a respectful distance- he'd gotten a good smack or two walking too close to them before- when it happened. Vernon and Petunia were busy arguing with a tour guide and Dudley was not in sight, running amok in the bathrooms when a smiling school teacher came, escorting him away from the arguing adults

"Hello dear, my name is Ms. Flanders. Come this way, please" She said, and Harry, too flustered to think much about what he was doing, followed. Overall, the experience for Harry had been fun- he was asked to fill out some questions, and write about whatever he liked. The nice teacher smiled and beamed at him the whole way, praising him for his good work. Harry practically glowed at the compliments, trying his hardest to answer them well.

By the end of their session, Ms. Flanders was patting him on the head and telling him how he'd fit right into Thurston Academy, once his parents enrolled him. It was right about then that the Dursleys walked in, Petunia and Vernon conversing angrily about something with another older teacher as Dudley followed behind, poking Petunia with a ruler.

Aunt Petunia ignored Dudley and screeched,"There must be a misunderstanding! How dare you say my Duddykins isn't bright enough to go to this school!" Dudley trotted behind his mother making faces at the nice teacher."How could you not accept a cherub like Dudley?"

Ms. Flanders looked surprised. " Excuse, Mrs…" She looked down at the paper, "Mrs. Dursley. Well, your son is accepted to Thurston," She said, patting Harry's head. Harry looked up at her, confused. "He's quite a bright lad, we'd be happy to have him."

There was a moment of silence, as the meaning of the young teacher's words sank in. And Harry knew by the way the Dursleys were looking at him that he was in trouble. Aunt Petunia's horsey face twisted in malice, and Uncle Vernon looked ready to explode, so purpled in rage. "Boy!" Vernon said in a voice just under a yell.

Stifling a whimper, Harry scrambled over in front of the Durselys, Dudley chortling at his cousin's misfortune as UncleVernon yanked him by the arm and started walking out of the building. "But Mr. Dursley, what's…" The Ms. Flanders' voice trailed after them, fading, as they rapidly made their exit.

Harry's nine-year-old mind was puzzled, but still got the overall reason for their anger: he had done better than Dudley, somehow. Harry knew to always throw games when forced to play with Dudley or else. He wondered just what 'else' would entail this time.

Once outside, Vernon almost immediately lifted his hand to smack Harry, but faltered seeing people around. Harry, who'd instinctively covered his head with his arms for protection, nearly tripped as his beefy uncle grabbed his arm again in a vice grip and dragged him down the street.

"You think you're a bright lad, going and playing nasty tricks now do you? Do you think you're clever, you freak? You wise alec?" Vernon all but growled as Harry vehemently shook his head, warily averting his eyes as he pleaded over and over, "No, Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry, sorry!". The burly man ignored him and pulled Harry into a derelict alley.

"There's only one way to put a cocksure rascal like you in your place!" He roared, slapping the boy now that he was out of public eye. Harry's glasses skidded off his face as he fell from the power of the blow, yet again breaking the spectacles. Harry curled up into a ball, trying to cover his head as the pudgy man towered over him.

"Let's just see how well you can do on your own, you ungrateful brat!" At this, Harry's broken begs for mercy and forgiveness stopped, and he looked up at his uncle with horrified eyes.

"NO! NO, I swear I'll be a good boy Uncle Vernon, please don't leave me, please!" Vernon paid little attention to his pleading other than to give a twisted smirk.

Harry knew what it was like to be homeless. One time the Dursleys went on vacation, and with Mrs. Figg being on vacation too, they decided to leave Harry in Privet Drive. Locked out of the house.

It was only a five day vacation, but it had given Harry more than enough time to learn how hard it was to eat and sleep when he had no place to go. The neighbors abhorred him and would often yell at him or swat him with a broom if he was found sleeping in their gardens, and he was forced to go through dumpsters to find anything to eat. He was just lucky that it was summer and there was little need for heavy jackets and blankets, though it got decidedly cold at some points during the night.

When the Dursleys came back, red as lobsters and even crankier than when they'd left, Harry had never been so happy to see them. He'd been especially eager to cook lunch that day, despite Petunia's howls that he was dirty and would surely ruin the furniture.

Vernon looked down at the boy now begging at his feet as if her were pond scum."Serves you right, you unnatural whelp. Now- get off me!" Vernon kicked at him, catching the black haired child in the stomache and winding him. Harry lay there, breathless and stunned, as his uncle walked out of the alley looking pleased with himself.Harry's eyes, which had already been watering, overflowed in tears as he realized he'd been abandoned.

He tried to keep back the sobs, but he couldn't. Nobody loved him, he was a freak, a smart alec.

XHPXHPXHPXHPXHP

Nearly a year later, the Dursleys were the last thing on his mind. Sure, every once and a while he'd think about his past life and feel a twinge of sadness, but there were so many other important things to think about. Like where to find food, or where he'd sleep tonight, or whether Tyler's gang was going to go after him again.

Weak, incapable Harry Potter was gone and in his place was Alec, a street savvy orphan who knew how to get himself out of tough situations. Harry'd watched and learned from the other orphans about the best places to find food, areas that were warm and would make good shelter during the winter (at the moment it was bloody cold), and learned to swear and steal, amongst other things.

Harry was especially good at stealing; his adorable appearance and quick reflexes made him a quick study from the older kids like Mary. Mary, a fourteen year old girl with black hair and chestnut eyes, thought he was cute and looked after him as much as she could. And it was because of this Tyler was jealous of him and would try to beat him to a bloody pulp whenever he saw him. Luckily, Harry was a fast runner and had already had a few years experience from evading Dudley, so he'd only taken a few beatings.

As it was,Harry was playing it risky today: he was on Tyler's home turf since the grocery store was there, and it was one of the better places to get some food. A friend of his, Calli, had a bad bout of coughs again and Alec was determined to get food and medicine for her. All he had to do was swipe some cough syrup and a little food and he was out of there.

Warily scanning the streets for Tyler and his posse, Alec headed into the grocery store. Trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible he entered the store, hiding his frayed jacket sleeves and worn pants from view. The store clerk must have been blind to not notice him walking inside, but he didn't stop to think about his luck, making his way to the medicine aisle as quickly as he dared.

Looking around for cameras and witnesses, he waited until the coast was clear. When the old lady looking for headache medicine finally left, he timed himself and nicked the cough syrup when the camera was facing away from him. He moved on, covertly scratching off the price bar as he went, and headed for the food aisles. Going through the same routine as before, he stuffed a few bags of food into his coat and moved on, becoming increasingly nervous. He didn't know what had him feeling so off, but it made him want to get out of there as soon as possible.

Alec's unnamed fears were made very clear when he turned down an aisle on his way out to find Tyler on the other end, snatching some food with one of his gang members. Harry stiffened at the sight of the heavy set, dirty blond haired boy. Even for a boy of twelve, he was unusually tall and bulky and clearly more than capable of taking Alec apart. The black haired boy tried discreetly backing away, but the moment he'd stepped he was pretty sure Tyler had seen him. Giving up subtlety, Alec dashed away as fast as he could towards the door, hearing the pounding of two sets of feet behind him.

Alec nearly had a heart attack when he saw the rest of Tylers posse hanging out right outside of the store, but he kept on running, which bought him some distance from their shock at seeing him. Tyler however was still hot on his trail, so Alec tried using every trick in the book in order to get some distance between them. Tyler was a good runner, not as fast as Alec, but had better endurance. If Alec let this chase go on too long, he knew he'd be caught.

Thinking fast, he ran into an alley and lithely hopped a fence. Tyler followed him easily, along with a few others, but he'd lost at least three or four of them. Three after him, after all, made for much better odds to not eat dirt tonight.

Still running, Alec frantically tried to think up a few more ideas. Tyler had become rather efficient at guessing Alec's evasion tactics, though he'd been rather inventive. Alec's lucky streak was famous on the street: he'd never gone more than a few days without food, rarely got sick, and often escaped from danger. Alec just hoped that his lucky streak wouldn't wear out today.

Running past the barber shop, he finally got an idea and headed down a back ally. His lungs were burning by now from running full sprint for nearly ten minutes now, but he only had to keep it up for a little longer. He only hoped everything would be as he guessed it would be, or he'd surely be caught.

Sprinting across a park, he ran straight towards the sewer maintenance door, hoping one of the employees had forgotten to close it again. He thanked whatever gods were out there when his luck held, and slammed the door closed before locking it. Alec collapsed, sliding down the door as he heard Tyler and one of his goons futiley pounding on the door. He was safe, for now. Calli's medicine would have to be delayed since Tyler would doubtlessly watch the door for at least a day. Alec would have to make another food run because of it, but at least he had escaped unharmed.

After Alec had gotten his wits together, if not his breath, he started laughing. It started quietly at first, but steadily grew until he was roaring with laughter, like a man on death row pardoned at the last moment. This clearly ticked Tyler off. "You bloody wanker, you mongrel! I'll get you, you filthy sod!" Alec could hear him shouting, muffled by the door.

"No you won't, you stupid arse! You never do," Alec guffawed, wondering as he said it why he seemed to like living his life at knife point. "It'll be a cold day in hell before you lay a hand on me, you gangster wanna-be, ugly arsed-" Alec went on using several worse obscenities, egging the raging boy on with relish.

Eventually, the banging simmered down. Alec slowly caught his breath and stood. It was dark inside the station, even during daylight. He'd have to find a torch before it got properly dark, or else he'd be stumbling blindly around at night. He also needed to find the generating room, which would doubtlessly be the warmest place to sleep for the night.

Wandering into the equipment room, he quickly made himself at home and dug around for a torch when he noticed something odd. From the looks of it, some wild animal must have gotten into the room; supplies were scattered and upended everywhere, and food wrappers littered the ground. "Great, the raccoons got inside."

Alec slowly weaved his way towards the only source of noise in the building, while carefully memorizing his turns. He'd finally found the generating room, but was more pensive than ever. A light was on inside the room, casting a faint yellow-orange glow into the hallway. Carefully, he looked into the room to find a gas lamp haging off the far wall, and the generator as expected. Alec gave a sigh of relief as he entered the room, thankful for the warmth and light. Setting down all his findings, he opened a packet of salted peanuts and made himself comfortable.

"…mmm…mhhgn…" A voice echoed in the semi-darkness like a moan. Alec jumped to his feet, flattening himself up against a wall. "…TRASK! I'm gunna… gunna… muh…" The voice trailed off, and the room was once again silent.

Alec listened to the rambling, stiff as a board. He'd had no idea that there was someone else in here, someone who was apparently asleep and dreaming. Yet again, Alec heard the man's senseless murmurings. "…Call the team …I said… I said to…" The voice dwindled away into a soft wheeze. Apparently, the mystery man was sick. Alec looked at his bottle of cough syrup.

Knowing that the sick man was clearly not a threat, Alec slowly walked around the generator. He found a solid, gruff looking man lying prostrate on the ground. Sweat covered the man's brow in a thin sheen, giving him an unhealthy pallor. A strange metal band was strapped tight around the man's neck, and his knuckles were all bloody. He made quite the intimidating sight.

Suddenly the man rolled over and spoke again, clearly in delirium. "…haven't got… whatchu'say, bub? …too tired…I-"

The man paused in his rant, the delerium clearing away momentarily. Alec realized with a jolt that the sick man was now looking at him, dark eyes focused on his small form. Alec gulped.

"Um, yeah, I…I was just staying here for a little, and…And here!" Alec pulled the cough medicine out of his pocket, and covetously poured out a dose of the liquid. Calli and the others still desperately needed the medicine, and he was loathe to give it away. But Alec had to help the man. Alec had barely survived his bout of the cold, and could tell the man would surely die without it. He cautiously shuffled closer and laid the medicine within the man's grasp.

The man reached for the medicine, but failed and nearly toppled the small cup. "Hey, be careful!" Alec quickly stabilized the liquid. "Let me do it for you." Going as close as he dared to the stranger, he attentively poured the cherry flavored medicine down the man's throat. The man coughed a little and grumbled, and then his eyes took on their glazed appearance from earlier. The man rolled over and fell into a restless sleep once again.

Alec watched the strange man for a couple more minutes, wondering. The man's clothes, while torn up, looked expensive. And he talked with an accent, one Alec couldn't place. Praying for safety, and that the man was not a killer, Alec curled up next to the generator and fell asleep.