I do not own Harry Potter or Charmed or any of the characters that are in them.

This is a rewrite from my original version, so parts will be the same, similar and some completely different.

This is an AU so that means that Sirius did not die.

WARNING: There will be a slash pairing or two. Don't read if you don't like it. Also some OOCness.

I'm going to be posting chapters about once a week.

Summary: Harry Potter has been betrayed by some of those he had trusted with his life. Now on the run, he and Hermione head to San Francisco looking for a quieter life. But when has anything been quiet or Harry? He meets the charmed ones and their children, falls in love and finds out that this is where he belongs. Nothing is that simple though, trouble will find them, and bring with it the past that he sought to leave behind.

Main Pairings: Harry/?, Hermione/?

Poll up for choosing.


Bianca's Flat, San Fransisco

Chris nervously shifted from one foot to the other. Chewing his bottom lip, he fiddled with the small velvet black box in his jacket pocket nervously. He stared at the front door of his girlfriend's flat, knowing that when he went in, his relationship with Bianca would change. His left finger millimetres from the doorbell, hovering over it with a strange feeling of trepidition.

"For goodness sake, you can do this! Just press the damn button!" His muttered voice helped calm him down somewhat. Giving him a bit of control at least. It was something that he could do. That, and the fact that if someone was to see him standing outside in the hall right now with his hand in his pocket and muttering to himself, his fingers twitching by the doorbell, well, they'd probably think he was some raving nutter.

And with that final thought in mind, he took a deep breath and pushed the innocent looking button. He instantly strained his ears to try and hear for any movement from within. Frowning when he didn't, he tried again, yielding the same results.

"She said she would be home tonight," he mused, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He sighed before he looked around him. No-one was coming. Score one to the raving nutter, he thought as he snickered. Yup, it was official, he finally had a nervous breakdown. Shaking his head to get back to the situation right now, he closed his eyes, and orbed into the flat.

He opened them to to see that the lights were on low. Just like Bianca, Chris thought fondly. The curtains were drawn, and the smell of lavender wafted towards him. Raising an eyebrow, he walked into the kitchen, leaving the living-room, and the warmth that it geld.

"Not like Bianca," Chris murmured, his head tilted to the side as he took in what he saw. There were plates on the counter by the sink. As well as two glasses of wine. Both half empty. Chris wrinkled him nose up in confusion. Who did she have round here?

True, she could have her friends round, probably why she had to cancel on him last night, but damn it this was important! He was going to ask her to marry him. He lent against the wall, going back through his recent conversations with her, checking to see if she had mentioned to him anything that he must have forgotten.

Deep within his thoughts, he didn't at first register a noise that came from one of the rooms. As it continued, it broke the young man, startling him slightly. Alerting him to someone else's presence. He grinned, and slipped down the hall.

"Bianca?" He called, turning his head to check for the noise as he did a quick scan of the bathroom. Not there. Another noise sounded from the door to his right. A moan soon followed.

A cold feeling of dread settled into the pit of his stomach. No, he thought. His eyes connected to the white door. Another moan reached his ears, causing him to back up slightly.

"She wouldn't..." Chris told himself. He stood up straighter but glared at his hand as it shook when he reached out for the handle. Holding onto it tightly he heard more noises. Only they were different. One was different, deeper. Just then a sudden cry of obvious pleasure made Chris go rigid.

"Bianca!" A male voice cried out, causing the brunette to loose all colour in his face.

"No," he whispered, his eyes staring at the wood, unseeing. He was hearing things. Bianca, His Bianca, with another man? No, never. And yet it all made sense. Her cancellations, the meetings, the sudden trips. Yes, it was all clear. The distant feeling, the lack of of I love yous. He had always said them, but she would hardly say them back.

A sudden rush of anger flooded his senses. How dare she? Who did she think she was, to make him wait, make him fall in love with her, only to throw it back in his face by cheating on him with another man? But yet even with these thoughts, even with the questions. The pain, betrayal, anger that rolled around inside of him, he couldn't find it in him to open the door. His muscles had all but frozen in place. He bit into his lip. He could hear the rustle of bed sheets, his hearing picking up on the smallest of sounds. How odd, he thought absently to himself, everything seems so much louder now than before. Then, Squaring his shoulders, he forced his hand to move. Slowly he opened the door, and stepped in.

--

Halliwell Manor

Wyatt looked up at the grandfather clock by the living-room with impatience. Chris left to propose to Bianca, his three year girlfriend, at seven, it was now nearing half past eleven. Chris had promised to orb back to tell him the news. True, Chris could be, ah, celebrating, but Bianca had wanted to marry before doing anything else. Poor bastard, Wyatt thought, not noticing that Coop had entered the room.

"Hey, Wyatt, Chris not back then I take it?" Wyatt jumped violently when he heard a voice and throwing up the coloured shield around himself without warning. Coop, who had not expected his nephew to act like that, took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender; showing that he meant no harm. "Woah there! Someones a little nervous..and tense," he quipped, eyeing the blue force-field warily, his greying brown hair all mussed.

"Oops?" Wyatt offered, giving his uncle a sheepish grin, trying to calm down his heart as it beat irratically against his chest. "Why are you here, Coop? Mum and dad are asleep," Coop raised an eyebrow at him in amusement.

"What makes you think that I wanted to speak to them?" The older man chuckled at Wyatt's sudden confusion to his visit. "Anyway, I just wanted to know Bianca's answer as much as you do. No doubt neither of you had bothered to inform anyone about this."

"How did you-?" Coop's laughter had cut Wyatt off mid-sentence.

"Wyatt, you do know that i'm a cupid. I can sense these things. That, and the fact that I had overheard you two speaking about it just before Chris was leaving." Wyatt's jaw dropped.

"You...you heard? But that's eavesdropping!" Wyatt cried outraged, feeling a little stupid for not bothering to see if anyone was outside of the bedroom. Eh, it was worth the teasing that he gave Chris at any rate.

"Wyatt, you live in a house with a lot of people popping in and out at all hours of the day. Do you honestly think that someone wouldn't have overheard you?" Wyatt narrowed his eyes at his uncle. He just grinned back.

"You could have announced that you were there," Wyatt grumbled.

"Yes I could have. But then, where's the fun in that?" Coop laughed and the glare he received. "You could also have been a little quieter. I'm surprise no-one else overheard your conversation."

Wyatt was about to fire a comeback when blue orbs materialised right in front of him. As the lights died down, a thoroughly upset Chris stood in the middle of the room. He was lucky that Wyatt was suddenly worried at his current appearance that he didn't throw up his force-field.

"So, Chris, what did sh-" Coop started, a grin already on his face.

"God! What happened?" Wyatt gasped. Coop frowned and moved around Wyatt so he could get a better look at his other nephew.

"Chris, are you okay?" He stepped forward and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Chris shook slightly, his eyes closed as if he was trying to block something out.

"Lil' bro'?" Wyatt whispered with worry as he noticed the tear tracks on Chris's cheeks. He instantly moved forward and wrapped his arms around his brother and held him close. Chris let out a sob, burrowing himself closer. Wyatt and Coop looked at each other over Chris's shoulder.

"She broke his heart," Coop mouthed, his eyes sad. Wyatt closed his eyes briefly, before hugging the boy closer.

"Wyatt," Chris's voice was muffled. Wyatt, letting his brother go, stared at him. "Wyatt," Chris repeated, his voice shook. "Sh-she cheated on me, Wyatt!" Chris wailed. Wyatt and Coop stood there stunned. Blinking a few times, the words finally sunk into their heads. Bianca had cheated on Chris.

"She did what?" Wyatt hissed, Coop's eyes had widened almost comically.

"How-? Why?" Chris just shook his head.

"Tell me," Wyatt urged pulling Chris over to the couch. Coop joined them, sitting on Chris's other side.

"Chris, it's alright, it'll be better when you talk about it." Coop whispered wrapping his arm around his younger nephew. Chris didn't say anything for a while but then he finally nodded.

"Okay," he finally croaked out. He then started to tell them about the cancellation, his trip over there, the apparently empty flat, the noises that he heard. "And when...and when I opened the door..."

-Flashback-

Slowly he opened the door, and stepped in. The sight that had been placed out before him caused his heart to clench tightly in pain. There she was, his -no, not his- Bianca, in the arms of another man. Chris swore that all of the air had been sucked out of the room. His lungs ached from the lack of oxygen and his vision clouded slightly. The couple on the bed hadn't noticed him entering as they were too wrapped up in the after-glow of sex.

"Bianca," Chris whispered. His voice surprisingly calm in light of what happened. The bodies on the bed jumped in shock as his voice filled the room. Two pairs of eyes swivelled in his direction, both wide in surprise and dread. Blue and brown eyes widened even more if at all possible at being caught in bed together. As if they thought that he would never find out.

"Chris, I..." Bianca trailed off as his light green eyes narrowed on her. How could she explain this away? She pulled the covers up around herself more firmly, averting her eyes to the spot above Chris's head.

Chris tore his eyes away from his girlfriend, and instead focused them on the man in bed with her. His brain working to try to see if he had met him before. The brown hair highlighted with blond streaks had prompted a feeling that he had met the man before, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember who. Strangely the man seemed to know him, and was avoiding his gaze as if ashamed. He should be, but Chris got the feeling that it wasn't about Chris finding out about Bianca.

"Bianca, I'll pick up my things I've left here tomorrow," Bianca looked back at him, her eyes sad and resigned.

"Chris, please, I never wanted you to find out about us," she motioned at herself and her partner, "like this. You have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you."

Chris looked at her disbelievingly. He barely controlled the flow of tears, his heart was beating wildly against his chest and he idly wondered if the other two could hear it. She never wanted to hurt him? And yet here she was having sex with some guy. How long has this been going on?

"Save it, Bianca," he whispered. "If you never wanted to hurt me, then why do it? Why lie?"

"I couldn't. I wanted to tell you, but..." she trailed off, looking at the other man pleadingly. He said nothing as he bowed his head and focus his gaze on the covers intently. "Your just so nice, Chris." She finally continued, "so loving and protective. I just couldn't break up with you."

Chris felt the heaviness in one of his pockets. It was the box. Within it was the engagement ring that he was going to use to propose to her. He felt like a complete and utter fool now. She had played him like an idiot.

"Please, you have to believe-"

"I don't have to do anything, Bianca," and with that last parting remark he spun round on his heal and ran out of the room. He quickly orbed away as he distinctly felt his heart break.

-End of Flashback-

Coop and Wyatt stared at Chris while he told them his tale, his eyes closed the whole time, like he was reliving it all over again. The youngest man was sandwiched between them, drinking in the comfort that they gave.

"She cheated on you?" Coop's repeated, his voice held an air of disbelief, but when Chris looked up at the man, he knew that it was true.

"I'm so sorry, Chris," Wyatt whispered, pulling his brother even closer to him. Chris only nodded once.

"I'm gonna' go to bed, I'll see you two tomorrow." With that, Chris detached himself and walked sedately out of the room, leaving two worried men watching him leave.

-------

October 25th Azkaban

The sound of the waves crashing against rocks were the first thing that met Harry's ears as he slipped back into the wonderful but painful world of consciousness. It was the first time since he had been thrown into Azkaban that he had been lucid. The first time he had awoken, a dementor was outside his cell. Not the first thing you would want to see when you wake up.

He groaned and rolled over onto his back, pain shooting up his left side. He rubbed his arm absently as he stared up at the dirty ceiling. He grinned at the thought of this much filth in the Dursley household. Aunt Petunia would have had a fit. The smile soon slipped off his face however when he remembered that she was now dead.

Shifting slightly, his thoughts took him deeper. He felt like he could never be happy again. It was his fault that they were dead. They weren't even supposed to be in the war. The protection charm had lifted from his home at seventeen, but Voldemort had never gone to attack. Harry still didn't know why, but it didn't matter anymore, they were still dead. The Dursley's still died and he, Harry, couldn't there in time to rescue them. He couldn't save them, he couldn't save the Dursleys or the older Grangers. The Dentists had both been in the middle of fixing Dudley's tooth when the attack happened.

Harry pulled himself out of his morbid thoughts when he felt it. A creeping coldness, seeping in through every part of his body. His breath caught in his throat as his lungs suddenly found themselves struggling to take in oxygen. It felt like ice had wrapped itself around his heart, causing it to beat faster.

Sadness and despair swept through him, momentarily making him forget that his body was fighting against what was happening to it even as his mind registered as to what was causing the drastic change. Dementors. Harry smiled grimly as he shifted, pushing himself up against the wall, trying to put as much space between him and the dementor as possible. He looked through the bars, waiting for the moment to see the huge black, cloak-clad figures to come to his cell. He knew that they were down the hall, feeding off other prisoners until they let their emotionally exhausted mind collapse and mercifully slip into sweet oblivion.

He closed his eyes briefly before he tried to mold himself to the wall. He knew what was coming, and he couldn't do anything about it. He would have to see all those memories that he had shoved into the back of his mind. Things that he had never wanted to remember again.

"Reap what you sow betrayers," Harry whispered to himself, his voice slightly hoarse. A rasping sound made Harry snap his head up. A shadow loomed over him, letting his cell temperature drop several more degrees. guilt and the feeling of being powerless overwhelmed him. Tears sprang up. Voices of the dead screamed out in his mind. Begging, shouting, crying.

His memories of his parents' deaths, Cedric's death, Seamus, Colin and Pavarti dying, Terry Boot screaming as he was held under the cruciatus. Other deaths floated through his mind, taunting him, showing what he had done. What his mistakes had cost him. What Voldemort had taken from him. The betrayal of his friends and family finally came as his trial assaulted him. Memory upon memory flew up, some that Harry couldn't even remember having, and bombarded his consciousness, demanding him to look at what he did.

A small whimper escaped from his cracked lips as he clutched his head in his hands, willing the despair to leave him be. He was tired, so tired, and he knew he wouldn't survive for as long as Sirius had. Hell, he might even lose his sanity by the end of the month.

No...Even his visions from the years passed were forcibly shown. Each and every one that he had. Letting his body slouch in defeat, he felt himself slip back onto the floor, the wall no longer pressed against his back. He wanted to be as far away from the dementors as possible.

A single tear slipped down his dirty cheek as he watched everything that he had seen and lost replay themselves; opening up wounds that were barely healed. Harry silently prayed, even as his mind veinly fought to hold onto the happier memories, that he would soon slip into unconsciousness. Letting this torture be without the flashbacks. Without the pain. With the knowledge that he couldn't help. That he had failed them. Failed them all. And now I won't be able to save them, he thought, an overwhelming helplessness hit him.

-------

Grimwald Place

Hermione sat at the top of the stairs, listening to the conversation going on in the kitchen. Sirius, Remus and Tonks had invited some of the Weasleys to stay for a while, and some members of the order had dropped by, deciding to try and convince the few who believed in Harry's innocence. She sighed and rested her head against George's legs. The tall young man in question stood up leaning over the railing. His twin brother was next to him, their blue eyes normally bright with mischief were now dark and serious. They had refused to go down and see the rest of the order as many had accused the twins of working with the 'murderer' and they had thought that Hermione herself was under some kind of enchantment.

"That's not the point, Sirius," at the sound of Hestia's voice the three unpon the stairs groaned. "He killed five people, five! And you expect me to back you up on this...this campaign to help set him free?!"

Hermione shook her head, snuggling into Fred slightly when sat down next to her. George planted himself behind the two, his hand on the bushy-haired womans' shoulder.

"This is going to get interesting," he muttered darkly, sharing a look with his younger brother.

"I never thought that she had something against Harry, I thought she always liked him," Hermione told them.

"Ah yes, well-"

"-undoubtedly she did. But only-"

"-because she would have been in-"

"-Remus' good books." Fred and George replied, moving closer to peer between the gaps in the banister.

"I agree with Hestia. He hated the Dursleys and he never had any qualms in saying so. You know what he went through, can you think of a way out for him?" Mr Weasley's voice was the next to reach their ears.

"Family support," Fred growled, sarcasm lacing his voice. Hermione closed her eyes. How must Harry feel, to know that most of the family that he had has turned their back on him?

"He is innocent! You have to know that. He's saved lives, take your daughter for instance, and you too, Arthur! He's not evil, he's as good as anyone can get!" Sirius barked out furiously.

"Hardly! I say that we leave him there! And what about young Hermiones' parents? He killed them too! Who would kill their best friends' parents?" Bill Weasley spoke up next, his deep rumble cut through the room.

"Traitor!" George's hissed from above them. Hermione turned her head and smiled weakly at him.

"It's not his fault, George, he doesn't really know Harry," but even her own defence for the eldest Weasley sounded half-hearted.

"Bollocks," was the only reply she got.

"Bill! How can you possibly think that? Harry has done nothing but help us these past eight years, damn it! And now you believe that Harry would actually do something like this?" Anger was in Tonk's words as she added in her say.

"Remember who saved you and Fleur last year from those deatheaters, and this is how you repay him? By turning your back on him when he needs all of us the most?" Sirius's tone was deadly, outrage clearly visible.

"Sirius, I know that he is your godson bu-" All three occupants on the stairs flinched slightly when they heard the cold laughter coming from the animagus.

"Congratulations! You've finally realised that he is my godson. Wow, Bill, you deserve a medal! No, really, you do."

Fred and George chuckled while Hermione grinned. They heard some coughs coming from the room behind the door.

"Sirius Black! Start acting your age! Your thirty-nine not thirteen. Now, I know that your attached to Harry but you must accept that Harry is guilty. You can't let the fact that he is James' son cloud the truth." The motherly voice of Molly Weasley floated out.

"Sirius is not-"

"-going to-"

"-like that," the twins murmured.

"That is enough, Molly," Remus growled. "You have no right in treating Sirius like this in his own home, you cannot tell him how to act, how to behave or what to believe."

"But honestly, Remus, talk some sense into him, you can't just stand there and defend that murderer!" Bill cried out.

"Who is he talking about?" Fred asked, "he didn't classify who. Sirius or Harry," he mumbled.

"He still thinks Sirius is guilty of something," George added.

"Either way he's going to regret he saying anything," Hermione muttered. "I'm just surprised that Ron's not down there."

"That's going too far, Bill. You and your parents are to keep your opinions to yourselves if you wish to remain here. That goes for you to, Hestia," Remus snarled. Fred, George and Hermione could imagine the werewolf to have his wand out right now. He had become a lot more volatile now as the war dragged on.

"What does it matter to you, Remus?" Bill continued. "If I remember correctly, you were one of many who thought that Sirius was guilty and left him in Azkaban. Maybe you are trying to rectify that mistake by believing in a real murderer."

Before anything else could be said, they heard something slam before a loud snarl and the kitchen door banged open, making the three jump up as if electrocuted. Remus, who had nearly forced the door off its hinges, stormed out and shot up the stairs, not giving the three a spare glance. Sirius and Tonks soon followed, their anger reigned in, and they nodded their heads in acknowledgement as they passed. Charlie walked out at a more sedated place. Noticing his two brothers and Hermione above him, he smiled at them grimly.

"You better head on upstairs, mums' cooking up a storm. Poor Dumbledore won't know what hit him," with that, he walked up past them to where his given bedroom was.

"Sounds like some people agreed with us," muttered the twins in unison before dragging Hermione up with them.

"Is it only you two that believes in Harry's innocence out of all the Weasley's?" Hermione whispered furiously, glaring at the door below them.

"No! Charlie also-" George started,

"-Believes in Harry." Fred finished, frowning at the door. "Although I would have thought that-"

"-Mum or Dad would have believed him. Or-"

"-Ron, at least." Fred finished, tightening his grip on the young witch. Hermione sniffed and her back stiffened slightly.

"Yes, well, Ronald was always slow." Hermione growled out, catching the twins by surprise with the amount of venom in her words.

"You still love him, don't you?" George asked softly, running his hand through her bushy mane.

"He betrayed Harry," she told them. "He's been acting differently since Harry was taken away, he's not the Ron that I know...or knew."

-------

Kitchen - same time

Leaning against the counter, Remus Lupin nursed a cup of tea between his long callous hands. His amber eyes flickered from one face to another as his lips thinned in annoyance. The man standing to the left and a little in front of him was in the process of a clench and unclench one's fists as he obviously tried to reign in his anger. Long black hair creating a curtain that blocked the man's face from the werewolf, but he could already guess what it looked like.

"That's not the point, Sirius," Hestia Jones sighed wearily.

Remus mentally snorted at the woman. How closed off her mind was, well, Remus could only guess. But by the looks of things, it was not about to change it's mind on the matter on hand. Now, if only he could convince himself that everyone would leave this room relatively unscathed and as healthy as they were when they had walked in.

"He killed five people, five! And you expect me to back you up on this...this campaign to help set him free?!" Hestia continued, drawing herself up.

"I agree with Hestia. He hated the Dursleys and he never had any qualms in saying so. You know what he went through, can you think of a way out for him?" Mr Weasley queried, his expression held one of great reluctance, as if it had pained him to say it out loud.

He is innocent! You have to know that. He's saved lives, take your daughter for instance, and you too, Arthur! He's not evil, he's as good as anyone can get!"

"Hardly! I say that we leave him there! And what about young Hermiones' parents? He killed them too! Who would kill their best friends' parents?" The deep voice of Bill Weasley broke through as he moved to stand next to his father, facing the two men.

"Bill! How can you possibly think that? Harry has done nothing but help us these past eight years, damn it! And now you believe that Harry would actually do something like this?" Tonks spoke angrily, her hair flashing to that of a dark blue.

"Remember who saved you and Fleur last year from those deatheaters, and this is how you repay him? By turning your back on him when he needs all of us the most?" Sirius's tone was deadly and the look on his face spoke volumes.

"Sirius, I know that he is your godson bu-"

Throwing back his head, Sirius laughed coldly, the noise bouncing around the room even as the convict calmed himself down.

"Congratulations! You've finally realised that he is my godson. Wow, Bill, you deserve a medal! No, really, you do."

"Sirius Black! Start acting your age! Your thirty-nine not thirteen. Now, I know that your attached to Harry but you must accept that Harry is guilty. You can't let the fact that he is James' son cloud the truth."

"That is enough, Molly," Remus growled, speaking up for the first time since they had entered the kitchen. "You have no right in treating Sirius like this in his own home, you cannot tell him how to act, how to behave or what to believe."

"But honestly, Remus, talk some sense into him, you can't just stand there and defend that murderer!" Bill cried out as his eyes pleaded with the older man to believe him.

"That's going too far, Bill. You and your parents are to keep your opinions to yourselves if you wish to remain here. That goes for you to, Hestia," Remus snarled furiously, his wand dangling in his hand, pointing down towards the floor. His grip though, was anything but relaxed. His pack was being threatened, the wolf in him was straining to break free from his control, and Remus was half tempted to let his other side rule for a moment.

"What does it matter to you, Remus?" Bill continued. "If I remember correctly, you were one of many who thought that Sirius was guilty and left him in Azkaban. Maybe you are trying to rectify that mistake by believing in a real murderer."

That was it. Remus pushed himself off the dirty side, slamming his unfinished tea onto the counter, warm liquid spilling over onto the surface and on his hands. He didn't notice. Snarling angrily at the redhead, Remus barged passed anyone who stood between him and the door, throwing it open so that it hit the wall, he stormed off upstairs. He didn't notice the three other occupants on the stairs as he concentrated on keeping his wolf in control. He couldn't stay in that room any longer lest he snapped and let Moony out.

-------

Second chapter done. How was it? Please review, the next chapter will be up in about a week.