A/N

Two Harrys: regarding chapters 2 to 6 it is easy to tell the difference. The real Harry (Evans) is the one from Canada. The pretend Harry (Potter) is the one from Great Britain.

Lunar Harmony: no, I don't intend to write a triangle story. This is about a pure Luna/Harry romance. There will be the beginning of a different Hermione/? Romance, but no Harmony.

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The Beginning (years 1981 to 1983)

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Godric's Hollow (Summer of 1981)

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"Thank you for coming," Lily greeted her friend, stepping aside and allowing Remus to enter in the small but cosy house she called home these days.

"Hello Lily," Remus responded with a tense smile. He hesitated for a moment before moving forward to hug her. Lily seemed happy to have him, unlike her husband who had turned a little frosty over the course of the past months – her apparently very absent husband, Remus noticed. James didn't trust him completely anymore, not like before. The reason: all the time Remus was spending with Fenrir and the other Werewolves. It didn't matter to him, apparently, that Remus only did so under Dumbledore's orders. Remus really missed the much happier and carefree times at Hogwarts.

"Where is James?" He asked, following Lily into the living room. A smile graced his lips as he noticed the quietly sleeping toddler. Harry had turned one year old only three weeks ago – a date he had missed because of his time with the pack.

"Out with Sirius," Lily responded, watching him with slight concern. "You look tired."

"Full Moon," Remus deadpanned. He felt tired. It had only been two nights ago and he was still recovering.

"Ah, sorry, forgot about that."

Remus shrugged. "It's alright." He sat down and accepted a cup of tea. "So, why did you invite me here today?"

Lily flashed a smile: "No pussyfooting, ey? Right to the matter at hand." She turned serious and sighed. "It's about Harry."

"Is he ill?" He immediately looked concerned.

"No," she shook her head. "But…" She hesitated. "Do you know why we're in hiding?"

Remus frowned. "I assumed James and you spoiled some of You-know-who's plans one time too many. He's angry with the both of you, isn't he?" Voldemort was a sore loser. The Prewitt twins were living (errr dying) proof of that.

"Yes, but others are still doing so openly. There is another, more crucial, reason – concerning our Harry, as well as Neville Longbottom." Yes, Remus remembered. The Longbottoms had gone into hiding as well. Lily sat down, gathering her thoughts. "You have to know, there is a prophecy – a prophecy about Harry, or Neville, and … Him."

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"So there is a prophecy about Harry or Neville being supposedly fated to kill You-know-who?" Remus summarized a couple of minutes later. He looked quite pale now. Damned Albus, why didn't you tell me any of this? Lily nodded.

"And He knows of it?"

"Yes," Lily agreed. "I don't know how, but Albus is certain that He knows the first half of the prophecy at the very least." She trembled slightly. "He'll try to kill my Harry, Remus."

"Can't Albus protect him?"

Lily frowned. "He put some wards around the house. And he spoke with James about erecting a Fidelius to increase protection."

"Sounds good," Remus nodded, worry lines on his face. The Fidelius Charm was certainly one of the strongest possible wards outside of Hogwarts. "Who'll be secret keeper then?"

"Sirius," Lily answered, sounding unhappy.

Remus face turned a little stony. Sirius had been the one who got James suspicious of him. Right now, he didn't like him very much either. Nonetheless, Sirius was utterly loyal to James and should be a good choice, especially as he was a widely feared duellist. But he was the obvious choice, such a tempting target too.

The two friends sat in thoughtful silence for a while, nipping at their tea while watching the still sleeping boy.

"It won't be enough," Lilly proclaimed, suddenly breaking the silence. Answering his questioning look, she continued: "but, I have some ideas… I already put a blood ward on Harry."

He gasped but said nothing. A blood ward was in a way even stronger than a Fidelius. It protected against dark spells and would deflect the attack, even the strongest ones if the sacrifice was worthy enough. Remus suppressed a sob, realizing that Lily wouldn't hesitate for a second to sacrifice herself for her son. Albus wouldn't be happy to learn about this. He would compare it to Dark Magic, but Remus understood her wish to do everything to protect her son.

"And I want you to take care of him."

Remus frowned and watched her as she fetched an envelope from her pocket, offering it to him. He opened the envelope and pulled a few sheets of paper from it. Some of them looking like official documents – Muggle documents. His eyes widened as he realized their content. "You can't… does James know… you can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious," her expression was pure determination now. "I don't trust Albus in this matter. And I don't trust in Sirius' ability to raise Harry the right way should… should something happen to both of us."

Remus gulped and read the documents a second time. "Harry Evans?"

Lily nodded. "James isn't well known in the Muggle world. Nor is our marriage official over there. We haven't had the opportunity to take care of that until now. Officially I'm a single mother, and Harry's father remains unknown." Her face hardened. "Those documents are official. I really hope we'll never need them but should… should we die; you'll become Harry's adoptive father. I want you to take him away, away from Albus' thumb and all this mess."

"And you really want this?" Remus didn't hesitate to accept the task. He only wanted to be certain of her decision.

"Do I want this? Certainly not. But the precaution is necessary, I think. Do you accept the duty?" She looked so fragile at that moment; Remus had no choice but to say yes.

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Little Whinging – November the 2nd 1981

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Careful not to wake up anybody, Remus opened the door and slipped into the house. He had learned how to break locks the Muggle way years ago, an heritage of his youth as a Marauder. Sirius had been the best at this kind of things, but the door lock of the Dursley home was simple enough.

Sirius – hate like he never felt before burned in his chest. Only once, fifth year ago, had he been this angry when Sirius nearly killed Severus Snape by trapping him with him, a freshly changed Werewolf. He killed them. Remus clenched his fists; his eyes glowing in golden amber. He wanted to kill Sirius, to rip him apart, to punch his claws into Sirius' chest and crunch his black, traitorous heart.

But he couldn't. Remus shuddered. He had other duties. And unlike Sirius he knew his priorities. He had to leave revenge to others, even if it killed him. Harry came first – now, tomorrow and for the next two decades. Lily had trusted him, more than Sirius, more than James' judgement and certainly more than Albus. He would never betray this trust, irrespective of how much it hurt him.

Two days ago, she had died, protecting her son just like she feared. James, his brother, had died as well. And Sirius was to blame. Both Sirius and Albus were. The Potters should have left the country ages ago. It hadn't been right to keep them around, not with Him hunting them so forcefully. And now they were dead. Voldemort was dead as well, or vanquished anyway. There was no body left of him, according to Minerva, so there remained reasonable doubts.

Minerva – her name instantly brought a smile onto his face, a rare sight these days. She had been as angry as Remus, spitting and hissing like a cat on fire. His old teacher had been the one telling him where to find Harry. She had warned Albus several times not to leave Harry with those Muggles. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't listened. No, the Great Albus Dumbledore was above mistakes. Unlike us, mere mortals, he was infallible. Remus had shown her the papers, told her about the plan – Lily's plan. The fiery redhead had been Minerva's favourite, like James had been Albus'. Minerva had been relieved and supportive right on. And she had trusted him enough to allow him to obliviate the whole meeting from her mind.

"Albus can't know about this," Minerva had been adamant. "He would try everything to stop you. Haven't you heard? Harry was the one defeating Voldemort – the boy-who-lived, the chosen one." She was spitting fire again. "He'll parade him around as our heaven-sent saviour. We can't allow this to happen."

And now he was in the house that Lily's sister called home. Remus looked around. Far too clean for his taste. And reeking of citrus too. Searching the house, he peeked into every room. First the main sleeping room, with Petunia and her husband snoring peacefully. Then there was a nursery. A healthy boy if a bit pudgy, smiling and clean, with a stuffed teddy near his chubby arms. But it wasn't Harry.

Where are you, Harry?

A last room – an empty guest room, it had been unused for a while according to the layer of dust settling in. Remus stepped into the corridor once more. Had he overlooked a door? Quietly, he searched the house for other rooms, but apart from a pantry and a small store room there was…

Sobbing – there was a low sobbing noise. Without his sub-human sense of hearing he would have missed it. Remus followed the noise downstairs and to a small cupboard door. Oh, they wouldn't… would they? She was Lily's sister! Despite their past differences he didn't want to believe Petunia would be so spiteful as to leave her nephew, an infant who had just lost his parents, in a cupboard! He opened the door. The stench of faeces reached his nose.

"Oh, Harry," he whispered. The toddler was awake, his green eyes piercing the darkness. Remus' heart stopped, those were Lily's eyes. "Moo'ey," Harry blinked, his little arms reaching for Remus. With soft hands he lifted the boy from his crib. He scrunched his nose because of the smell though. Remus would take care of that as soon as possible. For now, he had to leave this hellhole. Prior to his visit, he had hoped Petunia would turn into a better mum than a sister. He had even wondered for a moment whether Albus had been right about placing Harry with his only blood relatives. But not anymore, with this terrible sight burning his eyes. Yes, they had to leave – this house, Little Whinging and even Great Britain. He had to keep Harry away from Albus' horrific influence.

First things first. Remus pulled a small amulet from his pocket, something Lilly had prepared for this moment. Lily had definitely been a favourite of Filius Flitwick as well, her talent in Charms even surpassing her impressive grasp of Transfiguration and Potions. The tiny but ingenious charms professor had helped her prepare this. With Minerva being obliviated, Filius remained the only witness. It had been a necessary risk. Only with Filius' help had it been possible to create a remedy to protect Harry from any scrying attempt by the meddlesome headmaster. The use of this amulet would break his link to those silver tools Albus used to monitor Harry – the tools Lilly know had once belonged to the Potter family for generations. Even Filius wouldn't be able to use a successful locating spell on Harry any longer. The little tyke would be protected and well-hidden.

Remus sighed and put the amulet around Harry's neck. "I revoke the Potter family protection accorded to you. From now on you are my son and I am your father. From this day onwards and unless you wish otherwise you will be called Harry Evans."

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Hundreds of miles away, in the dark of the night and only watched by a couple of sleeping paintings, a faintly buzzing silvery instrument stopped to work. It didn't explode. It didn't even fume or screech. It only stopped its never ending work of watching over the Potter family. There was no more Potters among the living.

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Longbottom Hideout – November 1981

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Albus entered the cottage without sparing a glance at the Lestranges. Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black, her husband and brother-in-law had been apprehended red-handed, in the hidden cottage Albus had offered to the Longbottoms as a hideout.

"Barty Crouch Junior is in the back room," one of the senior Aurors whispered. Albus nodded, silently watching the mediwitches take care of Alice and Frank Longbottom. It didn't look good. The Lestranges had tortured them for hours, attempting to break their will, to get information about the demise of their late Dark Lord – information the Longbottoms didn't possess from the start. Albus sighed. Barty Crouch junior – what a mess! The political fallout would be immense. While he didn't like the father all too much – Barty Crouch senior was far too eager to use any means, even the darkest of spells, to battle Voldemort's cohorts – he had been a steadfast ally.

He didn't have time for this. He had to be out there, continuing his secret search for Harry. After the Potters' expected death and Sirius' fortunate imprisonment, he had placed the boy with his aunt. The blood ward, cast by Lily to protect her son, had done its duty perfectly. And it would continue doing so as long as Harry was around blood relatives. However, barely two days later, he simply vanished without a trace. There was no sign of magic, no hint of whom his abductor was. And even worse, his tracking instruments were unwilling to assist him in any way. It was as if Harry had ceased to exist. Albus felt ill. He needed that boy. The voices got louder and louder every day. The public, so thankful for his killing Voldemort, wanted to see him. Their saviour. He had to find a solution and fast, before anybody found out about his disappearance.

Albus stepped around the Longbottoms and their healers, followed the corridor down to the nursery. Frank had been so proud of his little Neville. Albus stiffened at the sight of the nursery – a very empty nursery, aside from the cadaver of a freshly killed cat. Neville – where are you? Had he been abducted as well? Albus so hoped otherwise.

"Homenum revelio!" The spell revealed a couple of people in the living room, not differentiating between sane mediwitches and insane Longbottoms. Two more signals – Barty and his guard. However, there was another sign – downwards, behind a hastily erected ward. He didn't have to search for long before he found a hidden cellar. He was certain it hadn't been part of the cottage before the Longbottoms moved in. Two minutes later the sought-after boy was in his arms. Poor boy – with his parents unable to take care of him, his grandmother would certainly have to take over his education.

He started to climb the stairs to the nursery, then hesitated and stopped. No parents – in the end Neville had no parents left. Harry was the boy-who-lived, but it could so easily have been Neville. The prophecy could have been about him. He took another step, faltered. He had a missing boy-who-lived and another boy who had no parents. Nobody would miss him. Lady Longbottom – Albus shuddered for a moment but hastily suppressed the impulse of fear. She would be occupied with her son and daughter-in-law's care. Neville would only be a burden to her, he tried to persuade himself. She was too old to take care of a toddler on her own. And it would be better for Neville as well. Dead parents certainly were better than insane ones. For a moment he imagined eleven-year-old Neville visiting his parents on Christmas, their condition a cruel reminder of this very night.

"Professor Dumbledore?" The Auror's voice from above urged him to act fast.

"Fipsy?" He called for his houseelf. Albus had thought about calling Fawkes but wasn't certain how his familiar would react to this plan. The creature of light was a little stubborn sometimes when facing the realities of life. With a plop the tiny creature appeared, eager to serve. "This little man just lost his parents." Fipsy stared sadly at the boy in his arms. "Please take care of him. Take him to my rooms, I'll follow soon enough. And Fipsy: not a word to anybody."

The houseelf vanished, leaving Albus behind in an empty nursery. "You can still be useful," Albus whispered as he fetched the dead cat from the ground. Nobody would seriously examine a dead toddler and he was a master Transfigurist. When the Auror entered the nursery a couple of minutes later, he found Albus sadly staring at the little boy, killed in his crib.

"Please take him to the morgue. I'll inform Lady Longbottom of her grandson's death." The Auror nodded grimly.

"Barty Crouch's wand?" He demanded. The Auror frowned for a second but complied. This was the Chief Warlock. You didn't deny such a demand even if it was slightly illegal.

"I want to speak to him – alone." The Auror nodded. It wasn't a surprise. Clearly, Albus Dumbledore would wish to learn about the man's reasons not only to betray the light but his own father as well. The Auror had no wish to be the one explaining the "catch of the day" to his boss.

Albus entered the room. Barty Crouch junior was bound and gagged, glaring daggers at him and looking slightly mad. This would be easy. A little memory charm and a suffocating spell. Everyone would believe that they had not only tortured the parents into insanity but also killed the boy.

Poor Longbottoms – what a dire fate.

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British Columbia/Canada – Summer of 1983

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"Wake up, Harry," Remus gently shook the sleeping boy. "We're nearly there."

Three-year-old Harry yawned mightily. He turned around to have a sleepy look out of the bus' mud-covered windows. Scrunching his nose, he whined a little. "Everything is so green. There's only trees out there – don't they have any houses in Canada?"

Remus chuckled at his antics and the older couple to the left watched the boy with soft smiles. "Be nice, Harry. And they do have houses, you know that. But the village is in the middle of a forest. Don't you like forests?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged like he didn't care. "Are there any bears in there? Or wolves?" Harry loved wolves. They were his absolute favourite animal. Sometimes, Remus wondered if it was because of his own furry little problem.

"There are wolves," the elderly man agreed. "Quite a few even. Are you afraid of wolves?"

"Nope," Harry plopped the 'p'. "Wolves are cool."

"I like bears better," the man responded. "But wolves are alright."

Speaking of bears and wolves, Remus asked: "do you know someone called Paul Masterson by any chance? We wanted to visit him and were told he lives around here."

"He lives over there." The elderly lady answered, pointing towards a wooded hill more than a mile away from the village the bus was entering. "You should ask Michiko or Jenny to lead you there. It's a bit hard to find for the first time." She gestured towards a wooden building looking like a 19th-century village school. The whole village reminded him of Walnut Grove, actually, the setting of the "Little House on the Prairie" series.

"I'll sure do that then, many thanks."

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Fetching their things and walking towards the building, Remus took a careful look around. As expected, more than half of the inhabitants seemed to be of Native Canadian descent like the elderly couple in the bus they had taken from Vancouver. However, there were many white and black Canadians as well, and even a number of Asians. Michiko certainly sounded Japanese. Despite his earlier whining, Harry breathed in the sight like a drowning man did fresh air. His eyes were wide and wore an equally broad smile. Remus had spoken about this place for weeks, and hoped to make it a steady home for the boy. Harry needed it after two years on the run.

The past two years had been both better and worse than expected. Lily's groundwork had been meticulous. He had been able to adopt Harry without a bump. Officially, he was now Harry Evans-Howell. Remus had chosen to change his own name to Howell, after his late mother, when they entered the USA. Soon after their arrival, they had left the East coast behind. There simply were too many links to 'good ol' England', too many chances to be seen by someone in Albus' pocket. For months they had toured around, searching for a place to stay. They made many friends on the way, but it was never enough in the end.

Some places had been violently against Werewolves, not even allowing him to stay for a single night. Then, down in Arizona, there had been that bloke, living on his ranch like a small king. He had been nice enough in the beginning. At least, until he started to loudly dream about Remus turning a couple of peasants into Werewolves to create his little own army. It had been a running battle to escape his hungry clutches.

It had been better around the Native Americans of the Middle-West. Most of them had far better relations with his kind. However, it still wasn't enough. Many of them had to live in an even poorer state than him, barely able to scrape together their livelihood. Others had long forgotten their heritage or chosen to turn their sacred places into tourist attractions, complete with many-coloured dances and souvenirs – truly genuine, I swear.

He had nearly given up when one of those "Shamans", drinking himself into stupor every night because he had to live like this, had told him about a place high in Canada. "In British Columbia," he told Remus, "you'll find the Kutenai. They're a bunch of tribes, still keeping to the old ways, integrating their own heritage into a more modern life. A friend of mine was there a couple of years ago. There is this village… their Shaman is Paul Masterson. He has been helping your kind in the past. Perhaps he can help you as well."

Help his kind? Help Werewolves? He didn't dare to hope, but it was a chance he wasn't willing to miss. And perhaps it could be a good place to live, at least for a while. In a few years Harry would need to go to school. Remus smiled, watching the boy. He had his father's hair and his mother's eyes. For a while, he had pondered the possibility of doing a blood adoption ritual. It would hide him even better. But the changes would be irreversible, so he decided against it in the end. He wanted to protect Harry, not take his parents away from him. Sooner or later he would have to tell him about his parents' history, he knew that. In a few years

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Harry would never forget the moment he saw his sister Jenny for the first time.

As they neared the school building, he detected a wooden post right next to the small veranda in front of them. Fastened to the post was an old bronze bell and on the post itself, at a height of nearly 10 feet, there she was, standing silent as a stone statue on one leg only, the other one raised so high her foot nearly touched her head. Her eyes were closed and she looked quite relaxed. She looked older than him, perhaps six or seven years old. Her hair was a dark blond with a couple of light blond streaks. Her eyes had a soft brown colour…

Eyes? Hadn't they been closed just a moment before?

"You're breathing too loudly." She scolded them, sounding unamused like only a small girl was able to. She was clearly interested now. She scrunched her nose. "You're new." She left her stance and put her foot down, but stayed on top of the post.

"Sorry," Remus replied with a grin. "And yes, we are." He watched her for a moment. "Isn't that a little risky? Is your mother alright with you doing your… acrobatics?"

She rolled her eyes. "She sent me up here, Silly. And it's called meditation." His heart missed a beat as she jumped down gracefully, barely making a noise as she landed. "And who are you?" She asked Harry, while Remus still tried to digest her little stunt.

"I'm Harry." He grinned. Remus was a little surprised. Usually the boy was shy around foreigners, children even more so than adults. Now however he looked relaxed.

"Don't you want to know my name as well, little lady?" Remus wondered. "What is your name by the way?"

"I'm Jenny," she answered and grinned. "And I know your name already. It's Silly." Harry giggled.

The girl grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the school. "I'll show you to my mum. She's the best." Shaking his head at her antics, Remus followed her into the building. It was quite bright indoors, brighter than it should have been with only small windows letting the sunlight in. It was nearly like the walls, painted like a forest with the ceiling being the sky, emitted light on their own. He stared at them for a moment. They actually did. He detected small runes that intensified the light reflection.

"Newer studies came to the result that it's better for children to have a brightness of at least 300 to 500 Lux indoors, else they develop short-sightedness."

He whirled around. The Japanese lady in Kutenai garbs was quite the beauty. Nearly thirty years old and looking a tad more athletic than most Asian ladies he had met so far, she stared at him with curiosity. There was nothing to be seen of the children however.

"They're playing in the break room," she answered his unspoken question. Offering her hand, she introduced herself: "I'm Michiko, by the way, the village teacher."

"I'm Remus Howell." He accepted her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. She smelt of cat, he noticed, having an aura around her like Minerva had. A cat Animagus? He wondered. "Someone told me to ask you to be my guide. I would like to visit Paul Masterson."

She stared thoughtful at him for a moment. Apparently, she liked what she saw, because she relaxed and nodded. "I can do that."

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"Please wait out here. You as well, little lady." Michiko left to enter a cave of all things, ignoring Jenny's pout. The small girl didn't stay annoyed for long though. She dragged Harry away, telling him this and that about the forest, explaining what the trees were, what they liked, and needed or not. For her, it seemed, trees were beings with feelings, just like humans. Harry thought he would hate to see her around wood cutters. And for the first time since months, Harry appeared really happy and content. He told Jenny about the Maple trees of the East and the Cactus of the South, sharing notes with the girl and discussing if Maples had other kinds of emotions than Firs. It was an amusing sight.

"Hello Remus, please come in." Remus startled. How could a man so huge this move so silently? Despite his better than average hearing, he hadn't noticed him leave the cave. Paul Masterson was a giant of a man, smaller than Hagrid for sure, but certainly towering over most others with his nearly seven feet. Like Hagrid he had a bushy full beard and long hair, but his were brown-grey. His weight was certainly around 300 pounds, made more of muscles than fat. Remus had expected leather clothes and some kind of claws-and-feathers necklace from the Shaman. Paul didn't disappoint in that matter, and his cave was equally an anthropologist dream come true. There were even old paintings on the wall depicting some hunting scenes.

Michiko was standing in a little side cave, preparing some tea , while Paul lead Remus to a group of wooden seats with furs for cushions. "Have a seat," Paul offered politely. "And tell me, Remus, why you came to my door."

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Three days later

The tribal council had met. Remus had been surprised to see two non-Natives among them: Michiko and a soft-spoken French-Canadian whose aura seemed far older than he looked. Paul introduced Remus, who he was given a chance to speak for himself. He had been quite open, telling them the truth about Harry, and that he adopted him. Most of all however, he had told them his reason for coming, and why he wished to stay.

"We need a safe place to stay. The boy needs a home, friends and, in a couple of years, a school . His parents were killed only two years ago. They knew about the danger they were in and his mother begged me to take care of him, to take him away to another country." It hadn't been a lie, as he really wanted to avoid those. However, he equally still protected Harry's true name in case Albus' influence reached this far.

Now he had to wait outside, still able to listen thanks to his impressive hearing. A couple of minutes ago, he thought he had heard someone sneaking around, but there was nobody to be seen. Remus shrugged and eavesdropped again.

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"But can't you help him?" Michiko wondered. She had been the most outspoken for his case. While Remus had been with Paul for the last three days, Harry had stayed with Jenny and Michiko and the girl had obviously befriended him already. Remus would really hate to separate them.

"Not like you," Paul answered with a sad sigh. Remus' eyes widened. Michiko was a Werewolf as well? But she didn't feel like a wolf. "He's different."

"Different how?" The French-Canadian asked. "Because of the nature of his magic?" Remus frowned. He had already noticed the differences in magic between Paul and him. To make room for Harry, Remus had offered to cast an expansion charm. Michiko had denied such a thing and begged Paul to do something else. Putting his hands against the wall, it looked like he communicated with the wooden building. And the building reacted. It was as if it grew some appendage, modelling it into a new room. It took longer than an expansion charm and it created a real room that could be seen from outdoors, but with space not being a matter, it certainly was a more natural solution. And it actually looked like the room had been there from the start; even the age of the wood and the painting was no different than the rest of the house.

Paul nodded. "His magic is… not tainted, but changed through his long use of wands. It's not coming naturally to him anymore. It's all about being in control and suppressing accidental magic. It's like a tourist trying to learn our dances. They can learn the moves, but it still won't be the real thing."

"But some of us use wands as well – or at least similar things." It was an older woman speaking now. She had been very quiet when Remus pleaded his case, glaring at him like an intruder. Despite her claim, he hadn't seen any wands so far, but a couple of Kutenai and even the French-Canadian wore daggers or some kind of wooden rattle. The Eldest even had a long wooden stick with a loop at its end, not unlike a shepherd's stick.

"It's different," Paul explained. "All of you first learned to be one with your magic. Magic comes freely and naturally to you. It's a part of you, a sense like hearing and touching, an act like breathing. Magic and you are one. For him it is different. They are told from the start that it is dangerous not to be the one in control. They use wands, words and gestures like crutches. Most of them can't use any magic at all without those."

"So you can't do anything for him?" Michiko asked. Remus got the feeling that she didn't like the idea of separating the children any more than he did.

Paul was silent for a minute before he spoke again. "I could teach him some meditation technics, to be closer to the wolf. However, it would never be like with you, or the others. He tried to suppress his inner wolf for his whole life instead of becoming one with him. Now it will always be Remus in control OR the wolf, two souls sharing one body."

.

It continued like this for a while, but it soon became clear, that they would at best allow him to stay for a couple of weeks or months. Only as long as Paul needed to teach him what he thought possible. In Remus' opinion this was the worst possible outcome. Harry would get even more attached to Jenny and Michiko – whom he already addressed as 'Aunt Michiko' – and the departure would be even more difficult.

He already wanted to accept his fate and pondered about how to break the news to Harry, when someone entered the room from the other side. There were some gasps and Michiko growled. "What are you doing here, young lady?" Jenny!

"You can't send them away." There was a little fear but far more determination in her voice. Remus wondered if he would have dared to address such a meeting at her age. Supposedly not.

"Jenny," Paul tried to assuage her. "It's better…"

"No, it is not," she growled not unlike her mother, her anger overruling her fear. Despite not being blood relatives, they certainly shared their temper. "Harry has to stay here. He is my brother and I have to protect him from the dark men." She was utterly in protective older sister mode right now.

Remus paled. What dark men?

"What do you mean, Jenny," the elderly woman asked, surprisingly calm despite the interruption of the 'adult business'. Remus was certain a meeting of British Elders would have ended quite differently.

"The Dark Men killed his parents and they will try to kill him as well if they find him. He'll stay here and I will teach him how to hunt and fight." Remus bit on his lip, trying to imagine what a six-year-old knew about hunting and fighting. It was obvious, however, that Harry understood far more of his own history than Remus had assumed.

"I already learned how to trap hares with a sling." Remus' eyes widened at the sound of Harry's voice. "And I know how to find carrots and berries. They're not ripe yet, by the way," he added. Remus noticed that Harry's articulation had improved by leaps and bounds since their arrival, certainly because of Jenny's example.

The elderly woman chuckled softly. "Very good, Harry. That will certainly help you in life."

Remus imagined Harry's nod. "Jenny's a good teacher."

"I'm sure she got that from her mother," the lady agreed while Michiko muttered something under her breath.

"Harry," the French-Canadian softly interjected, "please come here." Remus heard soft steps. He really wanted to get in there, but he didn't dare. "Does this scar hurt?"

"Nope," Harry denied. "It actually feels good most of the time."

"And when does it hurt?" Remus wondered this as well. Harry had never told him about the scar hurting him.

"When I'm angry."

"I see. Do you know where you got that scar?"

"Remus told me I got it from the man that tried to kill me, the man who killed my parents." Remus hadn't told much about it, but at least the basics, when Harry started to ask questions a couple of months ago. He wanted to wait until Harry was older before he explained the details of his adoption.

"I can feel it, you know. It's the protection of your mother. It is still there, still protecting you. You're feeling better around Remus – safer. Am I right?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "And it's like this near Michiko and Jenny as well."

"It's the strongest around Jenny now, isn't it?" The French-Canadian continued. Harry agreed again. For a while there was only silence, apart from Jenny traipsing around a little in her impatience. "You should go, Jenny." The French-Canadian stopped her with objection. "It's late, and the both of you need your sleep. Else he won't be able to learn anything from you tomorrow. I'm certain Michiko will find something for the both of you to do in reprimand for your nightly excursion."

"You can bet," Michiko growled.

Jenny ignored that part for now. "He can stay?" She asked full of hope.

"We'll have to speak with Remus, but I think it will be for the best."

"Thank you, Martin," Jenny screeched, according to the sounds impacting on his chest like a missile.

"Enough of this, Jenny. Go to bed. You as well, Harry. We'll speak in the morning."

The children left, happily holding hands and grinning broadly as they passed Remus.

"Do come in, Remus," the French-Canadian called Martin invited him back.

Another round, another chance.

.

"I can feel the magic of his mother around the scar." Martin started without hesitation.

"Lily… his mother, she used family magic to protect him," Remus explained reluctantly.

"It was far more than that," Martin rejected the explanation. "She used motherly blood magic to bind her life force to him. She sacrificed herself for his protection." Remus paled about how much this foreigner had been able to unveil from simply looking.

"She knew about the danger and did her best to make certain he survived the attack," the Werewolf explained.

"Does he know it was him they were after?" Remus shook his head.

"I supposed not. I believe it is to early for him to learn about that part. However, there are still traces from both parts of magic in his head, from the dark curse that was used against him and his mother's ward containing it."

Remus gulped. "There is a sliver of Volde… of his magic in Harry's head?"

"Yes," Martin continued. "And both spells are battling for dominance. They will continue doing so until the battle is settled – one way or other."

"How can I help him?" Remus asked, hoping for a solution.

"WE will help him through our example. Only Harry can decide who will win in the end. And that will take years."

"But how? Can't we… I don't know, remove the bad part?"

"No," Martin rejected his plan. "You can no more remove that dark spell from him than you could cut dark emotions from his soul. The ward of his mother and the curse of that would-be killer – both cling to his good and his bad sides. He'll need to find his own way. To decide whether he wants to be a beacon of light or a Lord of darkness. An act of pure light or darkness will be the decisive factor. Whatever he chooses, it will be the end of that magical battle as well."

"Will the dark try to influence him?" Remus was concerned.

"It will try to make him angrier and more violent, that for sure. He'll need Michiko and Paul to learn how to stay calm. And most of all he'll need you and Jenny to never forget what love is. You're his family. Your presence will strengthen his mother's spell."

"I thought it would require the presence of blood relatives." According to Minerva, that had been Albus' explanation for leaving Harry with his aunt.

"No, that was only the beginning. His mother loved him more than her own life. The ward needs love and the wish to protect him to grow stronger, not simply blood." Martin looked around with a silent question in his eyes. One by one, the elders nodded.

"Stay with the Kutenai, Remus Howell. Perhaps you didn't find the salvation you were hoping for, but we will do our best to help little Harry."

.

Hogwarts – same time

.

"Hello Molly, hello Arthur," Albus greeted the couple with a smile on his lips and twinkling eyes as they entered his office. "I want you to meet someone."

He opened a side door and gestured for a boy to enter the room.

"Molly, Arthur, this is Harry Potter."

.

A/N

More about the Weasleys and "Harry Potter" in the next chapter.

Kutenai/Native American etc: I've no real grasp of that culture. It's only book/internet knowledge I use. So, if I get something wrong, please don't be offended, but tell me if something should be changed.