Disclaimer: I don't own anything X-Men or Harry Potter! Basically, if you recognize it, I don't own it.

Spoilers: X-Men after X-Men: The Movie, but before X2 (Logan doesn't leave though); HP takes place before series, but after the Potters' deaths.

AN: I tried my best to make the timelines mesh; my Remus is born in 1966, so I adjusted the X-Men timeline accordingly to make this work. Also, X-Men story line meshes together all the movies (including Origins & First Class, but not The Wolverine because I haven't gotten around to watching that one yet) with a little bit of the cartoon X-Men: Evolution. This is mostly just for Kitty and Kurt, because I don't like how the movies portrayed Kitty and I see Kurt as more of a mix between movie Kurt and teenage Evo Kurt. Other than those two, pretty much everything else is movie verse. And yes, I have made the trilogy, Origins, & FC work together...at least it makes sense in my head. My Victor Creed/Sabretooth is the Sabretooth from Origins played by Liev Schreiber.

Chapter 1: First Meetings

November 21, 1994: "Mr. Lupin? I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting. I'm Professor Charles Xavier. Please come in." A regal bald man in a wheelchair led his tall, thin guest into his office. "Have a seat, please," he offered as the tall man shut the door behind them. "Now," Xavier said as his guest sat, "what can I help you with, Mr. Lupin?"

When the tall, sandy-haired man spoke, his voice was low and hoarse. "Professor Dumbledore told me that you could help me, sir," he said quietly.

Professor Xavier raised his eyebrow. "Oh? And what does Albus think that I can help you with?" he asked.

"He said that you could help me find my sister."

"Ah," said Charles, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "And why does he think that?"

Lupin shrugged. "All he told me is that if anyone can help, it's you; he said that you're the best man for the job."

"Hm. And when was the last time you saw your sister, Mr. Lupin?"

"She was just a baby, so…about sixteen years ago. And please call me Remus. Mr. Lupin was my grandfather and he never really cared for me."

Xavier filed that odd bit of information away for later. "Remus, if you haven't seen her in sixteen years, it will be near impossible to find her."

"Believe me, I know," said Remus with a sigh, running his long, elegant fingers through his shaggy blonde-brown hair. "I've been searching for her nearly the entire time she's been gone."

"Do you have anything that might help me find her?" asked Charles.

Remus pulled a well-worn photograph out of his jeans' pocket. "This is a picture of baby Marie and our Aunt Joan—Mum said that Marie looked just like her sister did as a baby. It's better than nothing, right?"

"Indeed," said Charles, staring at the strikingly familiar young woman holding baby Marie. "Would you mind if I held on to this for a while?" Seeing Remus' uncertainty, he added, "I'll take good care of it, I promise. I should have it back to you some time tomorrow."

"If it would help…" said Remus somewhat reluctantly.

"It would."

"Alright..."

"Thank you, Remus," said Charles. "I'll have one of my colleagues show you to your room."

"That's not necess—"

"I insist," said Charles, looking up as the door was pushed open quietly. "Ah, Scott, would you please show my guest to one of the spare rooms in the teachers' wing?"

XXXX

"Here you are," said Scott, opening the door and gesturing Remus into the comfortable guest room. "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," said Remus, setting his battered briefcase on the bed and glancing around the room.

"You're welcome," said Scott. "The bathroom is down the hall," he added. "Feel free to eat anything in the kitchen that's not labeled with someone's name and if you have any questions, just find me or one of the other teachers; we're all roomed in this wing."

"Again, thank you," said Remus. "I'm actually feeling a bit knackered, so…"

"Oh, of course. Welcome to Xavier's School for the Gifted; I hope you enjoy your stay." Scott left the room quietly, shutting the door behind him.

XXXX

Remus, despite his utter exhaustion, couldn't sleep. He had lain in bed for three hours with no relief and he was getting desperate. Finally giving up, he decided to make himself some tea. Tea always made him feel better; that and chocolate. Chocolate cured everything (except possibly a stomachache from eating too much chocolate and even that was debatable). Groaning, Remus sat up and bent over, groping for the boots he had shoved under his bed. Uttering a soft cry of success, he shoved his socked feet into them carelessly, his old Gryffindor pajama pants bunching oddly as they were half shoved into said boots. His feet properly shod (sort of), he stood up and cracked his neck, groaning as he felt his spine realign properly. Godric, he felt so old sometimes. He padded over to the door (he had charmed his boots to be silent years ago) and grabbed his faded and worn formerly navy blue robe (it had once belonged to his father and still held the faintest scent of him even after all these years). He pulled it on over his tatty white sleep shirt, leaving it untied. He then opened the door, peering around cautiously (old habits die hard—CONSTANT VIGILANCE! and all that rot) before stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind him.

XXXX

Remus was lost; totally and completely lost. The mansion was far larger than he had anticipated. He felt like he had been wandering around for hours (it had actually been no more than forty-five minutes). "Can I help you?" asked a decidedly feminine someone. Remus was startled; he had been so absorbed in his own melancholy and frustration that he hadn't noticed that he was no longer alone.

"I uh—I'm looking for the kitchen, but I think I'm lost."

The mysterious woman laughed musically. "I'll say. You're about three floors above the kitchen and in the wrong wing."

"Oh bugger."

"You're Charles' guest, aren't you?" she asked, her face still too shadowed for Remus to make out.

"Yes. Remus Lupin," he said, holding out his hand.

"Ororo Munroe," she replied, stepping into the light and shaking his hand.

Remus was smitten. The woman standing in front of him was undoubtedly a goddess. Flawless skin the color of hot cocoa, eyes the color of the midday sky, and hair as white as snow. She was of average height, standing less than a foot shorter than him and she appeared to be around his own age, if not a bit older. "A pleasure," he finally said, forcing himself back to the present.

"Likewise," she replied. "Would you like me to take you to the kitchen?"

"If it's not too much of a bother…"

"Of course not; come with me."

Ororo took Remus' hand and his brain once again shut down. So this is what Prongs felt like when he first met Lily, he thought as this exotic beauty led him through the empty halls.

XXXX

Ororo started as Remus set a mug of some hot liquid in front of her before taking the seat beside her. "I was planning on making tea," admitted Remus at Ororo's questioning glance, "but when I saw that you had hot cocoa, I changed my mind."

Ororo smiled brightly at the younger man. "How did you know?" she asked, sipping her cocoa contentedly.

Remus shrugged, sipping his own. "Chocolate makes everything better," he said. "Besides, who doesn't like chocolate?"

Ororo laughed. "True," she admitted. "It's very good."

"Well, I can't take too much credit; it was a mix."

"You're too modest," teased Ororo. "What's your secret?"

"Milk," said Remus. "It makes for much better cocoa than water does."

Ororo laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

The two sat in companionable silence while they finished their cocoa, almost as if they had known each other forever. Then it all went to Hell. "Whatcha doin' up so late, Ro?"

Remus' head whipped around so fast that Ororo swore she heard something crack. His amber eyes narrowed at Logan for a half a second before his face went completely blank. Without speaking, Remus pushed his chair out from the table and walked calmly out of the room, not once looking back. Ororo slapped Logan upside the head. "What's that for, Ro?" he asked as Ororo cradled her sore hand.

"You made Remus leave," she complained.

"I made who leave?"

"Remus, Charles' guest—the man who was sitting in here with me before you barged in."

"Oh, him. Looks a bit sick, don' he?"

"Shut up, Logan," said Ororo. "I was enjoying his company and his hot chocolate and you made him leave!"

"What the hell'd I do?"

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"Never seen him before in my life."

"And considering you remember nothing earlier than fifteen years ago, that means so much," she said.

Logan shrugged. "Maybe he knew me before, then. He looks like he could be old enough. He'd still probably've been a kid, but maybe he recognized me."

Ororo narrowed her bright, blue eyes dangerously. "I'm going to go find him, Logan," she snapped, "and when I bring him back, you'd better apologize for…for…for whatever it is you did." Not waiting for a reply, Ororo stood up and stormed out of the kitchen. Left behind, Logan simply shrugged and dug through the fridge for his not-so-secret stash of beer.

XXXX

Remus' calm face was a façade. Inside, his mind was in turmoil. Over and over in his head he relived one of the worst moments in his life…

XXXX

December 24, 1977: It was Remus Lupin's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he had decided to come home for Christmas. While he was making friends for the first time in his memory (Jessi Martini and Sirius Black wouldn't have it any other way—not to mention his cousin James Potter), he was desperately homesick. He had been pleasantly surprised to be picked up from the train station not by his magical mother Alexandra Lupin, but by his muggle father James Howlett. Eleven-year-old Remus promptly abandoned his dignity upon seeing the man and ran to him (in full view of all his friends), jumping into his father's arms and allowing the compactly built man to swing him around in his strong arms and ruffle his tawny blondish-brown hair fondly, a sparkle of amusement in his brown eyes. After greeting Remus' friends (with a special ruffle to James' hair—he was named after Remus' dad, after all, and was also his godson), father and son left on Remus' dad's motorbike (his mum would have a conniption if she ever found out).

Nothing exceptional happened over break until Christmas Eve. That night was the first night of the December full moon and Remus' dad decided to take his son out for the day—partly to wind him down and get his mind off his impending transformation and partly to do some last minute Christmas shopping. Father and son went about the town together—James telling Remus stories about growing up with his brother Victor Creed and Remus amusing his dad with the many escapades he and his friends got up to on a regular basis at Hogwarts.

The pair was laughing so hard that they didn't hear the multiple pops of apparition behind them. It wasn't until the first spell grazed past James' ear that they realized that they were surrounded by several masked wizards in black robes. Growling, James pushed his son behind him, shielding the boy from harm. James and the wizards exchanged words; all Remus really understood was that they wanted him and his dad dead. Remus' eyes widened in shock as he saw bone claws suddenly extend from his father's hands. Pushing Remus to the ground and telling him to "stay down," James gave a loud roar of anger and attacked the wizards with great frenzy, his claws flying nearly as fast as their spells.

Soon there was only one wizard left. Remus found himself staring at the tip of a wand, which was slowly gathering eerie green light, and he knew in that instant that he was going to die. Dimly he heard a roar of pain/anger/ anguish, but he ignored it and closed his eyes, praying for his death to be painless and quick. But instead of welcoming darkness, there was—nothing. He opened his eyes when he heard a soft thump and stared in horror. His father had killed the final wizard, but in the process he had not dodged the Avada Kedavra that had been aimed at his son. James Logan Howlett was dead.

XXXX

Present Day: "Remus, please! Wait!"

Remus stopped and waited for Ororo to catch up to him. "I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly," he apologized, staring at the floor, arms hugging his chest. "It was exceedingly rude of me.

"Never mind that, Remus. What happened? What did Logan do to you?"

"Ah. So he goes by Logan now," Remus said dully.

"What happened, Remus?" Ororo persisted.

"I saw him die."

XXXX

November 22, 1994: Remus hadn't slept a wink after he'd parted ways with Ororo last night. He was so out of it as he made his way down to the kitchen around seven AM that he didn't even notice the multitude of curious looks he was getting from the students who were just getting up and starting their day. It was only thanks to his near photographic memory and pure luck that he made it down to the kitchen without getting lost.

Once he found the kitchen, he was at a loss. He had no idea where anything was and every bit of manners that had been drilled into him by his aunt told him that it would be very rude indeed to start rummaging around willy-nilly. He stood in the open doorway like a statue for a good ten minutes before someone finally took pity on him.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Remus blinked and looked down at the smiling teenage girl who had spoken. "I-I'm a guest of Professor Xavier," he said. "I wasn't- I-I just—"

The girl, who wore her long chestnut hair pulled up in a high ponytail, grinned and tugged on Remus' sleeve gently. "C'mon; I'll show you around. We're pretty informal breakfast-wise here, but most of the teachers are done and headed to class before seven."

"Oh. That's good to know." Remus allowed himself to be dragged all around the large kitchen as the girl pointed out where different foodstuffs were located.

"Anything is pretty much up for grabs, unless someone's put their name on it," said the girl, showing him the industrial size fridge and freezer. "There's always extra stuff out in the big freezer we keep in the main garage," she added. "With so many kids here, we go through a lot of food. Some of the kids—and the teachers—have high metabolisms and need to consume large amounts of food to keep themselves going. The Professor likes to make sure to accommodate for any possible scenario, so you'll find a wide variety of food to choose from at any time."

Remus looked around, dazed. "I'm getting that."

"Breakfast is pretty much self-serve," she continued. "The teachers take care of the littlest kids around six thirty, but after that it's all up for grabs. Lunch is generally done communally; we all pitch in to pull something together. Dinner rotates on a schedule. Each professor and a group of students are assigned a day to be in charge of putting the meal together. We have leftover days on the weekends, except for special occasions. Of course, sometimes a few of the teachers or the older kids will go out, but there's always at least one teacher here besides the Professor." Remus was in awe of how much this girl could talk. "Are you good finding breakfast now?"

"Tea?" Remus croaked.

The girl giggled and reached into a cupboard above the stove. "Here you go," she said, handing him a box of English Breakfast tea. "The Professor likes this one. Kettle's on the stove. It should be full; most of the kids and teachers here prefer coffee. If not, feel free to fill it in the sink. I'm Kitty, by the way." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Oops, I have to go. I've got class in ten. Mugs are above the sink. Enjoy!" She snagged an apple out of a bowl on the island and ran off so fast that Remus almost wasn't sure she had been there in the first place.

He stood there blinking for a moment. That girl was something else. He'd never met someone who could talk quite as much (or as fast) as her. He shook himself awake and proceeded to set the kettle to boil. While he waited, he rummaged around the fridge a bit before deciding to cook up some eggs and bacon. Maybe this wasn't shaping up to be such a bad day after all.

XXXX

"You wanted ta see me, Professor?"

"Yes, please come in, Rogue."

The brunette girl stepped into his office and shut the door. She sat down on the chair in front of his desk and nervously tucked her white strand of hair behind her ear. "Am ah in trouble, Professor?" she asked.

The Professor wheeled his chair out from behind the desk and stopped beside her. 'Of course not, Rogue," he said.

"Then why am ah here?" The Professor wordlessly handed her a picture, the same one that Remus had handed to him the night before. "Professor, ah don't—"

"Does anything in this picture look familiar to you, Rogue?"

Rogue stared at the picture, enraptured. "A-ah know this," she said, brown eyes wide. "Ah've seen this baby before; ah'm sure of it."

The Professor was slightly surprised by that response; he'd been expecting a reaction about the woman, who he thought looked quite a bit like Rogue. "The baby?" He looked over her shoulder to glance again at the photograph. "You're sure."

Rogue nodded. "A-ah was adopted when ah was a baby; ah have a locket from mah birth family and it has a picture inside it of a little boy and a baby girl. Ah know ah'm the baby girl and the baby in this picture looks exactly like that one." She looked up at him, eyes hopeful. "Professor, is this me?"

"I believe so, Rogue," he replied, "though it was the woman who caught my eye and not the baby. Does she look familiar to you?"

Rogue took a moment and scrutinized the woman in the picture. Her brown hair hung down past her shoulders in slight waves and her blue eyes sparkled as she stared at the child, frozen forever in time. "Sh-she looks a bit like me," she said, awe in her voice. "Is-is this mah mother?"

The Professor sighed. "According to the young man who gave me the picture, no she is not. If you are indeed the child in that photograph, then that woman is your aunt; your mother's sister."

Rogue looked at the woman with a new perspective. "We have the same eyes," she said softly. "Ah mean, the color is different, but the shape is identical. And ah have her nose." She looked up at the Professor, hope filling her eyes. "Professor," she said, "is this real?"

"Very real, my dear," he said, smiling at her.

"A-and the man who gave this to you?" she said, her hold on the photo tightening. "Is he still here?"

"Indeed he is," replied the Professor. "He is currently residing in one of the guest rooms in the teachers' wing."

"He-he must know more about me—about this—if he had this picture. Can ah meet him? Maybe he can tell me about mah parents."

The Professor put his hand on the teen's shoulder. "I should imagine he will be delighted to meet you, Rogue," he said. "First, however, I must tell you the rest of the story that goes with that photograph."

"There's more?" Rogue said, her focus intent on the photo in her hands.

"Yes there is," he replied. "The young man who gave that to me came looking for my help in finding someone dear to him, someone who he has not seen in many years."

"Who?" she asked.

"He is looking for his sister; a girl, about sixteen-years-old, named Marie."

Her gaze shot up from the picture to stare at the Professor. "M-Marie? You think ah could be the sister?"

"More and more each passing moment," he replied, his crystal blue eyes serious. "I think that you just might be."

"Can- can ah meet him?" she asked.

"Certainly, Rogue. I can have one of the teachers bring him up her right now, if you'd like."

"N-no," she said, "ah need some time to think. Can Logan meet him with me? Ah don't want to be alone."

"Certainly," replied the Professor. "I shall facilitate the meeting, so I shall be there as well."

"Thank you, Professor."

"How does this afternoon sound? After the lunch rush, perhaps?"

"That sounds perfect, Professor."

XXXX

"Remus Lupin?" Remus thought he vaguely recognized the brunette man with the strange looking sunglasses as the man who'd shown him to his room the night before, but he hadn't been paying much attention to anything last night…until he met Ororo.

"That's what my birth certificate says," he responded, looking up from the fascinating novel he was reading (not that he could even recall the title) in the ground floor lounge.

"The Professor would like to see you in his office."

"Well, we mustn't keep the Professor waiting, must we?" said Remus. He'd missed lunch (the crush of hungry students proved to be more than he could handle) and was feeling a bit snarky. Not that this man (mid-thirties, was Remus' best guess) seemed to notice, what with the stick jammed up his arse and all.

Remus followed Glasses Man (he was still working on what to call him) up the stairs and through a variety of corridors. They eventually stopped in front of a familiar set of double doors. Glasses Man knocked. "Professor," he said, "your guest is here."

"Come in," called the Professor, his voice muffled by the heavy wooden doors.

Remus pushed open the double doors to make a dramatic entrance. As the doors were pulled shut behind him (by Glasses Man, he presumed), he saw who was in the room and wished that he hadn't drawn so much attention to himself. "What's he doing here?" he spat, spotting Logan sitting on the couch under the window.

The older man's dark brown eyes narrowed. "Look, bub, I don' know what yer problem is with me, but I'm here for Marie. This ain't got nothin' ta do with ya."

The Professor cleared his throat loudly. "I'm afraid that this meeting has everything to do with Remus, Logan. He's the reason we are gathered here this afternoon."

"You're the one who brought the picture?" asked the girl sitting beside Logan. Remus almost hadn't noticed her, she was so quiet.

He stared at her in wonder. Other than the odd streak of white in her brown hair, she looked like a younger version of his beloved Aunt Joan. "Y-you're her," he said. "You're really her."

"Look, bub, I dunno who ya think she is, but—"

"Marie Julia Lupin, born August 18, 1978 and given up for adoption two months later after the death of her mother," he said in an odd sort of detached voice. "You know her?"

"Logan's the one who brought me here to the Institute," she said, looking Remus in the eye. "He's my friend."

"Of course he is," Remus sighed, running his hands through his shaggy mop of hair and beginning to pace in front of the Professor's desk.

"Remus, I don't know what sort of problem you have with Logan," said the Professor, "but surely you can set it aside for the moment; for Marie's sake."

"Of course," he said. "What was I thinking holding a grudge against the man who apparently abandoned me without a second thought seventeen years ago."

"Look, bub," growled Logan, "I've never met ya before."

Remus' laughter was near hysterical. "Never met me? That's rich! I suppose then those first eleven years of my life were just my imagination then?"

"Logan doesn't have any memories before fifteen years ago," said Rogue.

"That's bloody wonderful," said Remus, flopping down into an armchair near the fireplace. "Now I feel like a right prat."

"Perhaps if you told us how you know Logan?" suggested the Professor.

"This was supposed to be about Marie, not me," said Remus, not entirely comfortable with where this particular conversation was heading.

"I-if ah'm your Marie, shouldn't mah opinion count?" asked Rogue.

"Of course," said Remus, his anger deflating. "For the record, I'm nearly one hundred percent certain you are my sister Marie."

Rogue nodded, her brown eyes guarded. "Can you tell me about mah—our—parents?"

"I can, if you'd like. Actually, that's tied in with how I know Logan. Would you like me to tell you now or shall we gather at another time?"

"I-if the Professor and Logan aren't busy now would be good."

"I have cleared my schedule for the rest of the day, Rogue," said the Professor.

"I already told ya I'm here for ya, kid," replied Logan.

"Very well," said Remus. "I suggest you get comfortable then. This could take a while."

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