Hello Everyone =)

I decided to try my hand at an adoption type story. AU of course, the story starts the summer after Harry's third year. I'm going to try to update at least the first two chapters on the same day and hopefully the third will quickly follow.

I own nothing. It's sad, isn't it? I'm sure if you owned it you would share with me 3

Rain puddles and splattered mud made the unattractive street even less appealing. The paint on the backside of buildings had peeled, and the naked wood was dark with moisture. Gray-brown specks decorated the clothing of one Harry Potter, but then he was never very fashion conscious. He trudged along the path, hopping around most of the large puddles and past the back entrance to the laundry mat. Two of the workers were having a smoke break- just cigarettes, probably. They didn't acknowledge him.

Harry was fine with that. After all, there was no reason he should draw attention- just a lone boy wandering the poorer side of Little Whinging in an oversized tee shirt and muddy tennis shoes. Said boy continued his short journey to the very last doorway in the alley. The door- a metal, creaky thing painted pale blue nearly a decade ago- opened to reveal a teenager not much older than Harry himself.

The boy was named Carver and, for an extra fee, was willing to sell Harry soda drinks out back since he was banned from the store. Harry's cheeks had burned with shame when the owner had shrieked at him that he was a dirty ruffian, and yes she knew the way he treated his aunt and she was having none of it in her store. He had run without knowing where he was going and found himself once again in the back garden of the Dursley's home with tears running down his face. He had cried often enough before- in fact he wondered if he cried too much for a boy- but these tears were hot as if he were boiling inside and when he realized that he couldn't go in the house without his family seeing his blotchy face, he had turned right around. On his way back to the store he had met Carver and struck a deal, four pounds for one Andrew Shletz cherry-lemon soda. Carver kept the change.

That had been at the beginning of summer, but Harry had been checking the vending machines for loose change and pocketing coins from the ground for weeks to save up and besides, it was his birthday. Carver happily traded the overpriced beverage for the handful of crumpled cash and ducked back into the store without so much as a "how-do-you-do?" Regardless, the birthday boy was deeply pleased that his treat was icy cold- probably delivered just a few hours ago.

He made his way to the playground on Magnolia road. An hour under the shade of a large oak tree would be heaven on such a blistering day. Harry could already tell that the wet marks left by mud splatter on his clothes were hardening; the stains would be nearly impossible to remove. Not that it mattered; Harry had been spending less and less time at the Dursley's and so avoided any remarks from them. They, for the most part, ignored him and prayed that his mysterious godfather would never make an appearance while he roamed the neighborhood and pretended that Sirius would be coming any minute to take him away.

"That would make a perfect birthday present," Harry brought his soda bottle to his lips as the playground came in sight. He could imagine it easily- he and Sirius would go to all sorts of places, hideaways kept secret by the Order. He had only met Sirius once, but he thought he could picture what his godfather would look like after a few more meals ("You're one to talk, Harry!" as Hermione would say) and a bit more sleep. Whatever the particulars, he was certain that the two of them would be cheerful, make each other laugh. Sirius wrote him of course, but there were some stories that just couldn't be told through a letter, and Harry wanted to hear all of them.

He reached the edge of the park. A few girls in summer dresses danced enthusiastically, if not conventionally, on the benches lining the perimeter while two toddlers squabbled in the dirt, their caretaker drowsing nearby. The largest tree would be at the back right corner… oh. 'Maybe that's why the place is almost empty,' Harry thought to himself. Joseph Kipp had his gang lounging by the picnic tables in the shade. Strange, they didn't usually come out until the sun went down. Harry had taken to hiding when he spotted them walking at night, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe they reminded him of Dudley's friends.

A long whistle caught Harry's attention. His wary green eyes met with Kipp's murky hazel ones and his shoulders stiffened at the older boy's smirk.

"Come 'ere," he gestured lazily, and Harry could think of no way to leave without appearing like a scared five year old, so he hid his grimace and made his way over as nonchalantly as he could. Kipp laughed. "What are you doing walking around, you look hot, mate…" Kipp leaned back on the picnic table like a king on his throne with finger tattoos instead of royal jewels and a collection of rebels with hangovers for a court.

Harry shrugged, glancing at the ragged group of 20 year olds lying half asleep in the heat. "It's summer."

"Yeah, yeah… whatcha got there?" Harry couldn't tell if he was peering at Harry's bottle or if Kipp was just too tired keep his eyes open, but he held up his bottle anyway and answered that is was soda.

"Ah. Course it is," Kipp muttered the last part. One of his buddies chuckled, "Wha'd you expect? The twelve year old's carrying a liquor store with 'im?"

'14,' Harry wanted to answer bitterly but Kipp waved his hand lethargically at both of them, "No, no. The kid's fine. Listen, Harry," he leaned forward just a bit, "anytime you want a drink or somefin', I'll get one for you, yeah?" He grinned at Harry's reluctance to respond, "You can hang around if you want. Where you been sleeping lately? I know- I saw you by the old school building right?"

Harry had gone to the old science building, closed for the summer and for renovations, to find a quiet place to rest and think but he wasn't about to tell Kipp that. "Nope, not me. I, um, I think I have to get back soon-"

"Oh yeah, yeah, I'll let you go in a minute. Wouldn't want to hurt your mate's feelings, would you?" His splayed inked fingers covered his heart dramatically. Harry shied away from the moody glare of the hawkish boy next to Kipp and shook his head no. "I think you might like our little group, Harry. You need anything, you come here. We're that kind of people… help each other out," he stretched his hand out to rest on the back of Harry's neck, forcing the boy closer and demanding his attention. "You're that kind of friend, aren't you, Harry?"

The sharp eyed boy next to him nodded knowingly, "He is definitely that kind of friend."

"Knew it!" Kip celebrated while Harry smiled weakly. "So I'll be seeing you around."

"I-" Harry wasn't sure how to respond. Kipp's hand dropped to the small of Harry's back and he pressed his forehead against the younger boy's.

"Don't disappoint me, Harry," what could have been pleading sounded like an order from Kipp and Harry regretted having ever left the back garden.

As it happens, being at the Dursley residence would not have greatly improved his mood. You see, the Durselys had visitors of the magical sort and they were none too pleased with it either. At least at first.

"And what would the, em, Ministry want with Harry?" Petunia Dursley clasped her bony hands together and laid them on even bonier knees. "Has he done something wrong?" She added hopefully, picturing a lengthy prison sentence and tearful apologies that such a normal family had to put up with an unruly felon for so many years. Dudley, who was hiding upstairs, would be so pleased.

"Oh no," the female one attempted to reassure her. This one's hair was too long for her age and she appeared to have worn her vest over her jacket, both of which clashed with her pink boots. "It's not that, it's just, well…" She turned to her colleague, a middle aged man without Vernon's stately presence who had paired a green bow tied with a yellow shirt.

"A prominent wizarding family has expressed interest in Harry's well being," He explained. Petunia's blood ran cold. What did they mean 'well being'? The boy was fine, as fine as he could be without cooperating with the rest of normal society.

The wizard saw her look of disbelief and was quick to continue: "The family happens to have some legal precedent, but of course you as a blood relative have much more-"

"Wait!" Petunia held up one trembling hand, "You mean there's a couple in the, er, in your world that wants custody of him?" Her eyebrows knotted together, she hardly dared to hope!

"Yes, since you were not technically in the Potters' will. Your relationship with the boy is, of course, weighed very heavily and I'm sure it will override anything they could come up with."

Well that would never do. Petunia wrapped her arms around herself as if to ward off the freakishness surrounding her. "We try. We really do, but I'll tell you the truth. Harry has become… harder to control around here."

"Harry? Harry Potter?" The female's eyes widened in surprise and Petunia knew she had captivated her audience.

"Oh yes," she nodded, "he's hardly ever here. He runs around with those ruffians, homeless I think. Not the type my Dudley plays with. You know, he blew up a dear relative of ours last year."

"Had a bout of accidental magic," the male clarified, but he still seemed concerned. Wasn't Harry a little old for that?

"He was very upset, and I… I'm afraid Vernon and I just aren't equipped to handle a child with m-magic," Petunia nearly choked on the offensive word but managed to get it out and refocused on the struggle of pulling her thin lips into something resembling a sad pout.

"That… that changes things."

Author's Note:

A quick google search said that soda is either "soda" or "soda pop" in the London area so I hope that term works for everyone. Thank you so much for reading! Sincere apologies for any mistakes, God bless