Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

CHAPTER ONE: RESCUED

Harry sat in his cupboard, peaking through vent and listening intently. An old man with a large cane was talking to Uncle Vernon. The man looked angry and impatient and Harry soon heard both men raising their voices.

"I demand the boy is handed to me instantly." The man's growling voice intimidated Harry.

"You have no right!" Uncle Vernon shouted furiously. "I'm calling the police! How dare you barge into my normal –,"

"Save it, Dursley. The boy. Now. Or I will be forced to use force."

"ARE YOU THREATENING ME?" Uncle Vernon thundered. His voice sounded through the entire neighbourhood, Harry was certain.

The man smirked confidently. "Yes. You should know what I am capable of, Muggle. I will not leave without Harry Potter."

Harry gasped. Him? The man wanted him? He had often dreamt of a long-lost relative rescuing him, but he had never thought it would actually happen. And what was a Muggle, anyway?

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, FREAK!" Uncle Vernon was pounding the coffee table with his fist now, spit flying at the older man.

Harry, in a split second decision, decided to make his presence known. He banged on the cupboard door. "I'm here!" he called out. "In the cupboard!"

He saw the old man give a cruel, harsh look and limp toward his cupboard. Harry immediately regretted his decision. This man could be dangerous. Now it was too late.

The man muttered something under his breath and the door swung open. Harry blinked. The man was tall and large. He had thinning auburn hair and two completely different eyes – a dark brown one and an electric blue one that wouldn't stop darting around the house. He also had lots of scars, which made Harry bemoan his decision even more.

"What are you doing in here?" the man said gruffly.

Harry didn't answer immediately. "Sir, I –,"

Not waiting for an answer, the man picked him up and swung him over his shoulder. "You're going to regret this, Dursley!"

Harry tensed. The man placed his large hand on Harry's back and suddenly, they disappeared. Harry felt like he was being sucked into a tube. What was going on?

When they landed, the man placed Harry on the ground. Harry immediately fell to his knees and began retching. The old man awkwardly patted his back and helped him up. "Are you well, lad?"

"Yes, sir," Harry managed to say.

The man grunted. "Haven't been called that in years, lad. The name's Alastor Moody. Everyone calls me Mad-eye, though. Choose what you like best; I don't mind."

Harry nodded. A million questions flooded his mind. "Why did you want me? Where are you taking me? How did you disappear from Privet Drive and reappear... here?"

"One question at a time, lad," Mr Moody said. "Let's see then... It is not up to me to tell you why I had to take you. I'm taking you to a family that was very close to yours; they'll tell you everything. And as for your last question, it's magic, lad. Did your blasted Muggle of an Uncle tell you nothing?"

There it was again! The word Muggle; what did it mean?

"Magic doesn't exist," Harry said simply. "That's what Uncle Vernon says. What's a Muggle?"

Mr Moody turned to look at him with both eyes. He unsheathed a stick and held it up for him to see. "Do you see this, lad? This is a wand." He gave it a wave and Harry's clothes shrank just enough to fit him. Harry gasped.

"A Muggle is a person who does not possess magic. And I'm fairly certain magic does exist. You have it too. Your parents had it, and their parents before them... It's been in your family for millennia."

"Really?" Harry said excitedly. "And it's not evil? Did you know my parents, Mr Moody? What were their names?"

"It is far from evil," Moody said, trying to contain his anger at the Muggles. "I knew them very well; Lily and James... They were incredible people. James studied under me as an Auror; I'll explain what that is later on."

"So why does that family want me now?" Harry asked. "Why not when my parents died?"

"They did," Mr Moody said as they began walking. "But they're very deeply involved in politics. It was very hard for them to get you. I must warn you, they dislike disrespect. You will address them with their respective titles, which I will tell you once you see them. I will also appoint a Healer to check you."

"Is that a doctor? I don't need –,"

"Quiet, boy. I found you in a cupboard. You need a Healer, whether you like it or not."

"Yes, Mr Moody," Harry muttered.

They walked in silence until another question popped into Harry's mind. Aunt Petunia had always said that questions were strictly forbidden, but Mr Moody didn't seem to mind.

"Are you part of that family?"

"No. My ancestors used to serve them. We are close, but we are not related by blood."

The pair reached the tall, elaborately decorated iron gate that surrounded the manor house and Mr Moody opened it by tapping it with his wand. He dropped his hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him through the manor and into the drawing room. They were greeted by a tall woman with long black hair, pale skin and grey eyes. She had a sort of patrician, aristocratic beauty.

"Alastor," she said, rising from her seat. "I see you have the boy." She then turned to Harry. "Harry Potter," she said fondly, longingly. "Welcome back. My name is Cassiopeia."

Harry looked up desperately at Mr Moody. How was he supposed to address this woman? Mr Moody mouthed something and Harry turned back to Cassiopeia.

"I'm very honoured to meet you, madam."

"I will leave you now," Mr Moody said in his growling voice. He inclined his head and left, his wooden peg leg and cane thudding against the floor.

"Mr Moody said you wanted me, madam," Harry began delicately, respectfully. "Is it true?"

"Quite," said Cassiopeia. "Can you imagine why, Harry?"

Harry shook his head slightly. "No, madam."

"Cassiopeia will do, Harry. It is improper for two wizards or witches of the same status to address each other by their respective titles when they are familiar with each other."

Harry didn't understand what the woman meant, but he nodded.

"I am sure Alastor told you that our families are close. Related, even. Your grandmother was my sister. Merlin rest her soul, she was such a lovely woman. Her name was Dorea."

"So you're –,"

"Your great-aunt," Cassiopeia said with a soft smile. "We wanted to raise you... My great-nieces – there's three of them – they loved you. Two of them have children of their own. Bella, however... Well, that's another story for another time. But an organisation took you away from us."

Harry blinked confusedly. "Why would an organisation care about me?"

Cassiopeia smiled sadly. "Years ago, Harry, when you were just a baby, there was this dark lord named Voldemort. He was a pure-blood supremacist, meaning he thought only those from families with a long history of magic in their names deserved magic. He thought himself better than wizards with Muggle families. So, naturally, he killed them."

Harry choked. "He killed people because their relatives didn't have magic?"

"It sounds ridiculous, but you'd be surprised at how many people find it logical. Your father came from a very old family, one with three thousand years of magic in their blood. Still, he married your mother, a woman from a Muggle family. We call such people Muggleborns. They fought against Voldemort, but he was rumoured to be unbeatable, immortal even."

Cassiopeia took a deep, rattling breath. "Then one day, Harry, on the thirty-first of October in 1981, Lord Voldemort found you and your parents..."

"And..." Harry's breath hitched in his throat. He couldn't say it. Cassiopeia knelt down and gently pulled him into a hug. Harry wanted to cry.

"Come, child," Cassiopeia said softly. "Do you wish to meet your family?"

Harry nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He didn't want to think about a madman killing his parents. If there was anything that could take his mind off of it, he was grateful.

Cassiopeia took his hand and led him through narrow corridors and up the stairs, into another drawing room. Three people were in the middle of a heated argument. Harry tried to run, but Cassiopeia kept a firm grip on his hand.

"Andromeda, Pollux, Lucius, if you could kindly lower your voices," she said sternly.

The trio turned to look at her. Cassiopeia nodded back at them. "Harry, these are my great-niece Andromeda, my brother Pollux and my... ah, forget it, Andromeda's sister's husband – Lucius."

"That makes me your great-nephew-in-law," the blond man said amusedly.

The young woman blinked confusedly. "Is that even a real thing?" she asked curiously.

The blond man – Harry supposed that was Lucius – shrugged.

"This is Harry Potter," Cassiopeia said suddenly, interrupting their musings.

The trio stared wordlessly for a moment. Andromeda was the first to react. "Harry," she said gently. "Harry, we're sorry... We would have taken you much sooner..."

"Six years," Pollux said grimly. "It took us six years..."

"Harry," Lucius said finally, "would you please follow me and Andromeda? This is important."

Andromeda narrowed her eyes. She seemed to notice something wrong too. "I'll get my supplies," she said. "Lucius, take him to Reggie's room."

Harry felt a sudden rush of panic at being grabbed by the man. He struggled in Lucius's grip and screamed for Cassiopeia. Lucius gently held him until he stopped fighting.

"Harry," he said serenely. "You are not in danger. Your Aunt Andy and I have to take you to another room so we can heal you."

Harry calmed down slightly and permitted Lucius to lead him away. He was taken to a room covered in dark blue tapestry, a large bed, a bookcase that took up an entire wall and a telescope near the window. Lucius instructed Harry to lie down on the bed. He then pulled out the chair from the desk and sat down beside him, gently stroking his hair.

Andromeda appeared seconds later, a large kit in hand. She handed Harry countless different potions, each more foul-tasting than the last.

"Now, Harry," she said finally, "this is going to hurt, but I need you to trust me."

Harry nodded wearily. Lucius slipped his hand into Harry's for comfort and Harry immediately gave it a hard squeeze in fear. "It's all right, Harry," he said gently, "you can trust your Aunt Andy."

Andromeda waved her wand over Harry in a complicated movement. With each minute that passed, Harry's pain grew more intense and Andromeda's expression more concerned. But Harry didn't cry out. He clung onto Lucius and waited for the end.

Andromeda stopped her spell at some point and started cursing under her breath.

"What is it?" Lucius asked concernedly.

"Shrouding Curse," Andromeda said with badly concealed fury.

"Shrouding Curse?" Lucius said, blinked. "What's that?"

"What's that?" Andromeda demanded, handing Harry another potion. "You're asking me what's that? That is dangerous, Lucius Malfoy! That is the most horrible thing that could have been placed on him!"

Lucius pursed his lips. "That clears everything up," he said finally. "Can you at least tell me who placed it?"

Andromeda looked at her parchment. It was covered in red laser-like letters. She read through it rapidly, trying to find the caster. The name made her choke. She would have never expected that... Not after what happened that night...