A/N: So this was already written, I was just kind of lazy getting it up. Don't expect the next chapter to come as quickly, but since school's ending soon I might have time to write more.

Harry snorted and sat up quickly, the green light of his dreams fading to be replaced by darkness. He blinked groggily, scrabbling around for his glasses. Then he realized that he couldn't find the ledge where his glasses usually sat.

Suddenly Harry realized that he was lying in a bed. A massive bed. He felt almost lost in it, used to the scrunched up mattress in his cupboard. He blinked again, realizing that there was just a tinge of light somewhere to his right. Pushing himself upright, he cautiously scooted to the edge of the bed, and realized too late that this bed was much higher off the ground than he was used to.

Landing with a muted thud on the carpeted floor, he stood and blindly made his way to the dim light. Reaching his hands out, his hands encountered thick cloth, and he pulled. Bright light spilled into the darkened room, revealing a very large room that was nearly three times the size of Uncle Vernon's bedroom. Using his limited vision, he made his way over to a rectangular, brown blur beside the bed and scrabbled over the hard surface, searching for his glasses.

Just when he'd found them and shoved them on his face, the door behind him opened. Harry whirled to see a tall man leaning against the doorjamb. He was dressed in a red sweater-vest over a white collared shirt, with black pants. His hair was reminiscent of Harry's own messy black hair, but it was combed and slightly tamed, and a bit shorter. Not to mention that it was more brown than black.

The man said something in a peculiar language, the syllables incomprehensible and meaning nothing to Harry. When he finished speaking, Harry tipped his head, puzzled. Well, what exactly was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could interpret all of that. Well, he might've heard his name in all of that, but he didn't understand anything else.

The man suddenly closed his eyes, an understanding look flitting across his face. Closing his eyes, he seemed to concentrate for a moment, then spoke again. "Hello Harry-kun. My name is Tohsaka Tokiomi," the man said slowly, enunciating the words clearly. There was a bit of an accent to his words, and Harry figured that he wasn't used to speaking English. "My apologies. It has been nearly three years since I have last spoken English."

"Erm, that's fine," Harry said uncomfortably, fidgeting slightly. "Um, where am I?"

"You are in my house. Dumbledore-san has placed you into my care," Tokiomi said. "As for how long, that remains to be seen."

"So I don't have to go back to the Dursleys?" Harry asked excitedly. Tokiomi raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Harry quickly backtracked. "Sorry, they're my guardians. Or they were, I guess. I didn't like them much, and they didn't like me." He scuffed a foot lightly on the floor, red. "Er, where am I sleeping?"

"What do you mean? This is your room," Tokiomi said, sounding confused. "Where else would you sleep?"

"The Dursleys made me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry said. "Wait, this whole room's for me?" he blurted in surprise.

"Of course." There was a trace of dissatisfaction on Tokiomi's face. "You slept in a cupboard?" he queried.

Harry nodded. "It was small and dark, and there was always spiders," he said. "Dudley—he's my cousin—he liked to stomp over my cupboard whenever he went up or down the stairs."

"Well, there'll be nothing of that here," Tokiomi said. "I have two daughters, and I hope that they will not be as bad as this cousin that you describe." He uncrossed his arms. "You may roam the house as you like, but please take care with anything you find. The basement, my study, the master bedroom, and the library are off limits. The kitchen is also open to you as you wish," he added, his eyes roving over Harry's skinny body. "If you need anything, you only need to ask."

"Um, okay. Thank you, Mr. Tokiomi."

"Actually, my surname is Tohsaka," Tokiomi corrected, though he looked amused. "It is Japanese custom to say the family name first, that is my fault. I would prefer to be called Tokiomi-san for now."

"-san?" Harry asked, confused.

"An honorific." At Harry's uncomprehending face, Tokiomi simplified it. "A sign of respect."

"Oh. Okay, Tokiomi-san."

"Well then, I will go back to my work. My wife is with my daughters, at the end of the hall to the left. I suggest you introduce yourself." And with that, Tokiomi turned and left the room.

Without anything better to do, Harry tiptoed out of the room. The place was so big, and he felt like he didn't belong. It was like he was intruding, and he was still a bit giddy at knowing he didn't have to go back to the Dursleys. There was no way he'd mess this up.

Reaching the door at the end, Harry tentatively knocked. A moment passed, then the door was opened by a dark-haired woman.

"Oh! Um, you… be Harry-san?" she asked in broken English. Harry assumed this meant not everyone spoke English. "I Tohsaka Aoi. Nice to meet you."

"Um, you too," Harry said. Aoi smiled gently at him and guided him into the room. Almost immediately, he was hit with a smell that his mind instinctively labeled 'child'. It had that odd smell that always seemed to accompany small children.

The room seemed to be a nursery of some sort. Two cribs were set against the wall, and the rest of the room was cleared. Two girls sat in the middle of the room. The Tohsaka daughters, Harry assumed.

The larger of the two immediately fell on all fours and scampered over to him as soon as her eyes landed on him. She was nearly upon Harry when her arms and legs tangled, and she came to a halt on the floor. Aoi laughed and scooped her daughter up, who was tearing up and on the verge of wailing. With a small thump, the woman set herself on her rear and began rocking the child back and forth, humming softly.

Harry tentatively settled beside her, keeping at least a couple feet of space between them. "What are their names?" he asked quietly, his eyes resting on the smaller one. She was much quieter, her eyes the same aquamarine as her sister's.

"Names? This Rin," Aoi said, indicating the girl in her arms. She nodded towards the smaller girl. "Sakura."

"Wow." The closest thing to a baby that Harry had seen had been Dudley, and he hadn't exactly been a small, delicate child like the Tohsakas. Hesitantly, he reached out a finger towards Rin, stroking her hair in awe.

The small girl immediately latched onto his finger with her tiny fist, giggling happily. Harry yelped in surprise, and reddened as Aoi chuckled in amusement. She deposited Rin carefully in his arms and picked Sakura up in her own, continuing the rocking motion from before. Sakura yawned sleepily and cooed at Harry, her eyes staring inquisitively at his own emerald ones.

For the next hour he sat there with Aoi, playing with Rin as Sakura slumbered in her mother's arms. At some point, when he was laughing and fending off Rin's attempts to play with his hair, he finally realized that the Dursleys were no longer a part of his life. Now he lived here in this giant house, with his own bedroom. Though he still didn't know the Tohsakas well, he already knew that they were much better than the Dursleys were.

And that made him happy.

Later that day, Harry found himself wandering the mansion. Aoi had excused herself after Rin had finally exhausted herself, and now he had nothing better to do than to just walk the halls.

After a moment, he found himself in the kitchen, which was much bigger than the Dursleys. He poked around a bit, finding a great deal more bowls and sharp things than he thought he would ever find in a kitchen. On a whim, he opened the massive refrigerator. It was well stocked, with lots of green, healthy vegetables that the Dursleys normally never touched.

Distantly, a bell began to toll. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Harry blinked. It was dinner time already? Acting on habit, he began reaching for ingredients and familiarizing himself with the kitchen.

He was halfway done with straining some noodles he'd found in the back of the pantry when Tokiomi entered the kitchen and halted, flabbergasted.

"Not done yet," Harry said absently, stirring the sauce and opening the oven, checking on the garlic bread. Seeing that it was done, the eight-year-old boy grabbed oven mitts and pulled the tray out, setting it on two of the cool burners on the stove.

"Harry-kun? What are you doing?"

"Making dinner," Harry said, confused. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Um, was I not supposed to?"

"You didn't have to," the older man sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you want to, go ahead. I don't think you could do worse than my wife."

A sharp retort of Japanese came from behind him, and Tokiomi looked chagrined as he turned to face Aoi. Harry almost kept watching them, but the ding of the timer reminded him to take the bubbling sauce off of the burner.

Not ten minutes later, he had the Tohsakas sit at the dining table and served the food. Thankfully, Aoi could at least handle Rin and Sakura, since he didn't know what babies ate. He did flush a deep red when Aoi unbuttoned part of her shirt to feed Sakura. Rin sat in a bright red high chair that looked extremely out of place in the extravagant dining room, still somewhat drowsy.

"Good," Tokiomi said in surprise after taking a bite. "Harry-kun, when did you learn to cook?"

"When I was... five?" Harry ventured. "Aunt Petunia made me start cooking as soon as I was big enough. I didn't do well at first, so I didn't eat well that year."

"Was the food that bad?" Tokiomi chuckled lightheartedly.

Harry looked down, fidgeting. "No…Uncle Vernon would send me to my cupboard without food," he mumbled, embarrassed. "If he didn't like a meal, he locked me in the cupboard."

Aoi frowned, and started speaking quickly to Tokiomi. As they conversed, her face paled more and more. Tokiomi himself seemed to be more serious as well, and Harry guiltily kept his head down. He wasn't supposed to speak of his freakiness to strangers.

All of a sudden, Aoi put Sakura down and stood. Sakura whined a bit, but quieted as Tokiomi took her in his arms. Aoi marched around the table and enveloped Harry into a hug. "We never do that," she said firmly.

Harry trembled within the first hug that he could remember. Something glass in the kitchen shattered. Tokiomi stiffened in surprise, his arms tightening around Sakura. The door to the kitchen blew open, one of the glasses on the table vanished, and Rin's high chair switched to a confused yellow green. Harry didn't notice any of this as he threw his arms around Aoi, burying his head in her embrace.

The chaos quieted down. Harry relaxed in Aoi's arms, exhaustion creeping into his body. Tokiomi rubbed his hands against Sakura's back, attempting to calm the agitated girl. Rin was wide-eyed, but had thankfully not burst into tears.

"I'll take him up, Tokiomi said to his wife in Japanese, and switched Sakura for Harry. He cradled the boy in his arms and left the room, heading for the bedroom.

Bumping the door open with his shoulder. Tokiomi entered and set Harry down on the bed. For a moment, he stared at the young child. Dumbledore had warned him about accidental magic, but it had already impressed him. One of those glasses had actually vanished, which bordered on true magic. And he suspected The high chair would remain that horrid color unless it was actively changed back.

Tokiomi was also now acutely aware of Harry's malnourished body. Now that he knew to look for it, he could see that Harry's small body had more to do with a lack of food rather than having a fast metabolism. He hadn't weighed much either when Tokiomi had carried him upstairs.

He was beginning to realize that Harry was beginning to mean something. Before, he had been an opportunity to Tokiomi, a source of income for his expensive thamauturgy and a possible advantage to reaching Akasha. But now that he knew a little more of Harry's childhood, it was getting harder and harder to distance himself from the boy.

Harry was a very real person, with very real problems. Tokiomi finally saw that. Dumbledore had told him sending him to live with the Dursleys was a mistake, though he'd avoided the issue when Tokiomi had tried to delve deeper in curiosity. Now he understood why.

Tokiomi knew he was an arrogant and sometimes manipulative person. He wasn't stupid, and his arrogance wasn't unjustified. He'd recognized Albus Dumbledore to be similar to him, though his arrogance was of a different sort. Dumbledore had a well-meant arrogance; it was due to all of his experience. He'd defeated a dark lord, and he was powerful. He'd taken control of Harry's life and tried to protect him with only his safety and future concerns as a priority.

And Dumbledore had realized and admitted his mistake once he'd found out about Harry's abuse. It was something that, after long thought, Tokiomi realized he was missing.

Consequences just weren't a priority in his mind. He was the heir to the Tohsaka family, he was a very well-respected member of the Clock Tower and the Mages Association, he had a beautiful, perfect wife, and he had two daughters that he loved. He had an extensive thaumaturgy from his father and had made steady improvements to the Tohsaka jewel magecraft.

Various explosions came to mind as Tokiomi's mind skimmed over his improvements. He did have a tendency to jump into his experiments without preparing properly, he admitted to himself. Though he'd had the foresight to set up a bounded field all around the basement, he never really considered the potential harm and damage that his experiments caused. It was because he was so confident that it would work, and when he failed he was arrogant enough to be confident in his ability to rework the theory and get it right the next time.

It was a vicious cycle, and Tokiomi decided he needed to wizen up. Harry was a living, breathing example of how larger manipulation could have long-lasting consequences that were hard to rectify. Dumbledore had placed him with relatives that he'd been confident of in his plans, and had made a grave mistake in placing the boy with them. Tokiomi could easily see the parallels in his own life.

Perhaps this was a good thing, he thought.

Three Years Later

"Harry! Wake up!"

Harry snorted and opened his eyes to see dark text in front of his eyes. Groaning, he peeled his face off the book and rubbed at his eyes, almost dislodging his glasses. "'m up!" he called blearily, and stood shakily. He groaned again; his bum was sore and he had a crick in his neck.

Aoi smiled from the doorway. "I told you not to fall asleep studying again," she scolded. "Honestly, Harry."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, picking at a bit of sleep crust and grimacing at the awful taste in his mouth. His foot came down on a hard gem and he yelped and grabbed his foot. "Ow!"

"Careful," Aoi warned with a smile on her face. "At least you're not as bad as Tokiomi. Or even Rin." She shook her head. "Those two can put sloths to shame in the mornings."

"Rin always drinks milk straight from the carton," Harry complained. "I don't even know how she manages it; she can barely reach the fridge."

Tokiomi appeared behind Aoi, his hair untidy and a carton of milk in his hands. "Someone say milk?" he asked blearily before slugging milk straight from the carton.

Harry sighed, his question answered. Tokiomi was just so... different sometimes. Most of the time the man just bled class and extravagance. He was sophisticated, high-class, and calculating, especially when he had people over. He was the epitome of an elite magus, and he knew it.

And then there was morning Tokiomi. Barely functioning, disheveled, and prone to drinking milk straight from the carton.

Not only that, but Rin seemed to have inherited all of her father's morning habits. She was actually worse than him at the moment, because she often fell asleep again after getting out of bed, even if she was standing. More than once Harry had entered the bathroom at the end of the hall to find the girl slumbering against the wall, dead to the world despite the freezing tile.

Aoi seemed to remember something. "Oh! Harry, you got something in the mail." She handed him an envelope, missing how Tokiomi's gaze sharpened as he lowered the milk carton. Harry took the envelope, which was made of some sort of thick paper, and read the writing in emerald ink on the back.

Mr. H Potter
The Downstairs Library
Tohsaka Manor
Miyama
Fuyuki

Curiously, he opened it and withdrew the contents. His eyes latched onto the letter and he began to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. H Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry stared at the letter for a moment, confused. "It's saying I'm a wizard?" he asked in disbelief. "And why does Hogwarts sound familiar?"

Tokiomi grumbled darkly to himself and drained the milk carton. "Harry, a wizard is different from a magus," he explained. "You have been training as a magus, though I'm surprised that you're capable of both styles of magic."

"Not much of a magus," Harry muttered. "So what now? Am I going?"

"I assume so," Tokiomi said dryly. "It's your decision, not mine."

Harry considered the situation. He was being asked to attend a school for wizards (which sounded positively ridiculous; he was a magus!), they apparently knew him by name and (very exact) location, and he didn't know what a wizard actually was except as a different kind of magic user. "What's a wizard?" he queried.

Tokiomi said, "I don't really know. Wizards are extremely secretive, and most of my attempts to find more found nothing. I know, however, that wizards are capable of much different magic than magi are."

That interested Harry. "Really? Like what?"

"Well," Tokiomi began, "one wizard was able to enlarge a basin."

Harry felt just a little disappointed. "That's it?"

"He took it out of his pocket and, using just a wand, made it," Tokiomi spread his arms and eyed them critically, "about that big."

The boy goggled and Aoi laughed at his expression. "Well, we'll support you no matter what you choose," she said kindly.

Harry blinked and nodded. Remembering the envelope, he began to read the equipment list. Midway through, a thought hit him. "Where exactly am I supposed to get this stuff?"

The door knocker thudded through the house before Tokiomi could answer. Combing his fingers through his hair, he exited the library and made his way to the entrance hall. With one last smoothing of his red jumper and black slacks, he opened the door.

Albus Dumbledore stood there, his eyes twinkling. "Tokoimi-san," he greeted.

"Dumbledore-san," Tokiomi returned. "It's good to see you again, at a more pleasant hour." A yawn overtook him before he could stifle it. "Maybe not the best hour, however," he amended as he closed the door behind Dumbledore.

"I apologize," the headmaster said sincerely. "However, am I correct in saying that Harry has gotten his acceptance letter?"

"He has it, but he's a little confused as to what exactly a wizard is."

Dumbledore frowned. "That may be difficult, even for me," he commented. "Under normal circumstances, the usual response is 'you are capable of magic'. However, it seems that it will not work in this situation." The old wizard stroked his beard thoughtfully. "How is his training going?"

"There isn't much I can teach him," Tokiomi admitted. "He isn't aligned to jewel thaumaturgy very well, and his limited number of magic circuits limits his potential. Right now he's limited to gradation air and reinforcement, since he doesn't have much of an elemental alignment either. If he was solely a magus, I would not consider him a success at all."

"I admit, I was surprised when you told me he was capable of magecraft," said Dumbledore. "Where is Harry now?"

"He's in the library with my wife."

Harry was eagerly going over the shopping list with Aoi when Tokiomi returned with the guest in tow.

To be honest, Harry didn't recognize the man. His attention was captured by the man's massive beard, which was actually tucked into his belt. And his purple robes with actually twinkling stars. And his half-moon glasses.

In short, the old man's appearance fascinated the eleven-year-old.

"Hello Harry," the man said, his eyes sparkling merrily at Harry. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. Do you remember me?"

Harry studied the man long and hard, then shook his head. Then he realized something and he snapped his head back up. "Aren't you the headmaster of Hogwarts?" he asked, holding up the letter.

"I am," Dumbledore said kindly. "I'm here to tell you about Hogwarts." He moved surprisingly quickly for someone so old and sat down in one of the library chairs, adding to Tokiomi and Aoi, "I hope I'm not imposing, but you may want to sit as well."

Tokiomi and Aoi took a seat beside Harry, who was already sitting down, and the headmaster began to explain.

A/N the Second: Yes, Harry's a magus. No, he isn't powerful. Not at all. Leave a review if you're confused, or just do it anyway to feed my ego~!