Wow! Thanks for all the enthusiasm; it has blown me a little bit off my feet. You guys are wonderful, and I have so many ideas for upcoming chapters! The first few are going to be more dialogue and explanations than a lot of action. I promise that the wait for it will be worth it though! Keep them reviews coming, I read every one and it keeps me going! Anyway, chapter 2, enjoy my darlings.

Allon-sy!

Harry's POV:

He gently drummed his fingers against the surface of Mrs. Weasleys scrubbed table, staring out of the window. The burrow felt so familiar, the home that he had been denied, and yet it hurt to know that soon he would have to leave.

Harry wanted to run, he wanted to hide under a table and emerge a new man; one that didn't have a lightning scar, knobby knees, or a target on his back. He wanted to be able to kiss Ginny without fear of her death, or walk into the Great Hall at Hogwarts freely.

Rubbing his face, he sighed heavily, his emerald eyes unfocused. A hand was gently pressed to his shoulder, and he started turning around, and his hand instinctively going towards his pocket to grasp his phoenix feather wand.

"Calm down, it's only me." Ginny smiled, albeit a little sadly. Her warm hazel eyes were concerned. Harry wished he could pull her into a hug, and have her rest against his chest for that familiar warmth and security, preferably on the comforting grounds of Hogwarts. However, this definitely wasn't the ideal world, and all Harry could do was give her a tight smile.

"I'm fine, just thinking about the wedding." He lied lamely, and by the small narrowing of Ginny's eyes, he knew she saw right through it.

"Right, of course. Well, I'll leave you too it shall I?" haughtily she stalked towards the rickety stare case. He stood, guilt unfurling within his chest, opening his mouth to call her back, apologize, anything, when:

White light flooded through the room, searing Harry's retinas and making him cry out with pain. It danced in his vision, flickering unidentifiable colours, and with it came a power, deep and ancient. His wand that he quickly withdrew from his back pocket heated beneath his fingertips, and a cry from Ginny made him realize that hers was doing the same. In the white, there almost seemed to be pictures, images of nature that trickled away like water, unable to form for Harry to grasp.

The strange magic- for Harry understood that whatever was happening was of a magical nature, though none that he had ever learnt about- was coming from outside, making the glass explode inwards, and Harry turned away, the sheer brightness of it all becoming too much for him to handle, and he shut his eyes.

Cringing he bashed his knee into the table while rising his wand arm higher. He felt a viscous lick of pleasure about finally being 17, and free to use his magic at will. Still, the meeting he had had yesterday with the minister did not sit well in conscious.

He could hear yelling, panic, and chaos all echoing from upstairs. He groped blindly for a recognizable surface, when he met warm hands and grasped them. Small pants issuing from her mouth identified her as Ginny, and he pulled her too him, despite the fact that if there was any serious threat, there was nothing he could do to protect her.

"What the blimey hell was that?!" Ron's voice was loud, clearing following a group of people down the stairs.

"Ginny?! Harry?! Are you all right?!" Mrs. Weasleys voice was bordering on hysterical, other voice joined in her questioning, Harry only vaguely recognizing Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley.

He blinked open his eyes slowly, blurrily he took in his surroundings like a man coming up from a deep and arduous sleep. Ginny was being embraced fiercely by her mother, but her hand was still in his and he released it as though it had burnt. He pretended to ignore the look of hurt that flashed across her face, or the sharp-eyed glare Ron sent him. He nodded, but turned to face the shattered window as Lupin passed him to peer outside.

Then they heard the scream, "Hermione!" Gasped Ron, going pale behind his freckles "She was looking for Crookshanks…" The adults took the lead as they headed outside, Mrs. Weasley briefly stopping to try and pull rank on Harry, Ron, and Ginny to keep them inside, as well as a bemused Fred who appeared from his ailing brother's room. Of course they didn't listen to her; Hermione was Harry's best friend, and he wasn't about to sit inside when she was under a threat from something that could've been potentially set to harm him.

It was almost too dark outside, the usually wild garden of the Burrow looked forlorn in its recent remodeling for the wedding. The shadows of the tents were pitched against the night sky, and the large field of wheat swayed ominously in the distance.

Everyone's eyes, and feet, were drawn to the same thing though. The white light was fading from the man's skin, but it was obvious he had been the original source. Hermione was crouched beside him, her stuttered words reaching their ears. The Order of the Phoenix gathered around the prone form, and Harry kneeled to observe the new addition.

The man was pale, almost bone white (which unfortunately reminded him of Voldemort) though he seemed alabaster rather than skeleton. His hair was as black as Harry's, but his eyes were a shocking blue; glazed with pain they were still deeper, and more mysterious than even Dumbledore's had been. Questions were being thrown around unanswered, and Tonks gasped as she took in Hermione's bloodied hands, which were currently pushed against the man's wound.

"Hermione, what happened?" Harry asked.

"I don't know! I was looking for Crookshanks and he just appeared in this light!" Hermione answered. "He's injured; we need to get him inside."

Lupin and Mr. Weasley came forward while Ron gently drew Hermione away, though her eyes were still bright with worry and fear. As soon as their hands got under the mysterious man, he went limp, clearing passing out from pain.


"Well, Kingsley should be here any minute, as well as McGonagall. Unfortunately the minister," Mrs. Weasley's lips twisted slightly "Has seen fit to also send Dawlish, to re-assess our wards. Whatever brought the boy through was powerful magic." She glanced over with a weary concern to the teenager sprawled upon the magiced stretcher.

Lupin and Tonks, aided by a shaky Hermione and anxious Ron were tending to him. Both had their wands raised, muttering incantations to dispel infection, and to stop the bleeding. Lupin had drawn a sharp breath when he had seen that the man had an arrow thrust through him. It made Harry think of knights and medieval stuff that he had never paid attention to in a History of Magic.

"Hermione, Ron, can you remove his shirt?" Tonks asked, turning away to pick up a small bottle of the essence of dittany.

"What the hell?" Ron said loudly, and the group who lingered in the shadows rushed forward, only to be met by the same site as Ron.

"How is he even alive?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice.

Scars littered the pale body, long thin silver like trails, like the kisses of knives; others were puckered and raised, each at varying levels of discoloration, white to pink. A large, grotesque burn lay over the man's heart. All in all it looked like he had been dragged through hell and back, several times over.

"These look like there were caused by a sword…" Charlie trailed off, and shook himself, leaning over and plucking the bottle from Tonks, he adeptly applied the solution to the more recent collection of battle scars, and breathed a sigh of relief as new skin instantly crawled over the surface. No one seemed quite sure what to do, but the awkward silence was thankfully spared by several popping sounds of apparition drifting in from outside.

More animation leaked into the room, and Harry Ron and Hermione drew away to their respective corner. Outside, Mr. Weasley was filling in the new guests.

"What exactly happened?" Harry asked Hermione, in a low voice.

She looked flushed, her hands playing nervously with a small beaded bag in her hand. "I'm not too sure," she began cautiously. "I was around the bank of the Burrow, looking for Crookshanks. He likes chasing the gnomes- Sorry Ron. Anyways, there was this massive light, it hurt even when I turned away from it and this rushing sound as though there was something really powerful rushing through me. I ran back around just as the light was fading, and there he was, just lying there! I- It was so awful, he was awake and kept muttering something about 'The old religion is broken' though I don't think he was too aware of that part. He was losing so much blood."

Ron squeezed her hand where he still held it. She blushed but didn't move hers from his, and instead firmly caught both of their eyes again.

"Whatever it was, it was powerful. That was… pure magic, an essence that none of us, not even V- Voldemort could manage. Also the fact that he kept mention the old religion… I feel like I've read that term somewhere."

Ron rolled his eyes at the mention of books, and the tense mood that had been between them since the ordeal was broken. Harry sagged against the counter, Hermione stopped playing with her bag, and Ron grinned sheepishly.

"Well, Merlin knows what happened, but Kingsley and McGonagall are here. They'll know what's going on." He spoke with confidence.

Harry couldn't help but not feel reassured by the faith his mate seemed to possess, a shared look with Hermione confirmed that she too agreed. The boy who was unconscious was probably their age, maybe a year or so older. A blanket had been drawn around him, but Lupin still lingered nearby with his wand in case anything should be attempted.

The thought was unlikely.

It was clear that the teen was naturally pale, but he seemed almost grey with blood loss, and he was as thin as Harry, even more so. He was also taller, with cheekbones that slashed across his face strikingly. Despite his deep slumber, there was an air about him, something that made everyone in the room on edge. It was a sense of subconscious realization that the event of him bleeding in the Weasley's garden would be a bigger even then they could yet comprehend. His young age did nothing to diminish an ancient power that cloaked him in mystery and confusion. Harry kept thinking of the small glimpse he had gotten of his eyes, they had seemed to know so much, much more then someone his age should, more knowledgeable even compared with Dumbledore. This gut feeling that took Harry shook him too his core.

The sharp edge of the counter was digging into Harry's back, but he felt no need to move. His green eyes were unfocused, and a feeling of helplessness crashed in his heart. He was so determined to fight, to beat Voldemort and secure a future for those he loved, but at the same time he was Harry- Just Harry. What power did he really have?

Magic was unpredictable, he knew that it had both light and dark within its capabilities; couple that with a powerful, evil wizard, and the force became virtually unstoppable. He knew his task: destroy the horcruxes, but this new magic, the one that had come with the strange man, it frightened him. No one could name it, and if this was a new ploy used by Voldemort, nothing would stand in his way.

"- if he's a death eater, perhaps Azkaban. The Dementor's are gone, but it would still be a place to keep him away from everyone." Kingsley Shacklebolt slow voice was serious and preceded him as he entered the room, followed closely by McGonagall and Mr. Weasley.

Lupin rose calmly, from where he had been sitting. "He doesn't bare the dark mark."

"That is all very well," McGonagall was as sharp as always, glancing severely around the room until it rested- with a hint of softening- on the unnamed man. "He could be anyone and the use of clear dark magic to penetrate the wards… I doubt even Dumbledore could have done it."

"Perhaps we should just wait until he wakes up. He has no wand, we checked. His is still healing, and he is young. He could simply be another victim." Lupin offered mildly.

"I believe that is agreeable," Kingsley answered diplomatically, and Tonks gave a warm smile to her husband. "Dawlish will be staying, on the ministers orders."

"Brilliant." Harry said flatly in an undertone, his dislike of Scrimgeour evident; Ron snickered.


Misty sunlight was beginning to appear through threadbare curtains, signaling early morning. Harry had only been in bed about 2 hours, the events of the previous night had put him on edge, and sleep hadn't come easy. He had been lazily changing the colour of Ron's ceiling to keep himself amused, as the latter, Fred, and George, had all fallen asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Sighing he rolled out of bed, and pulled on jeans and a shirt, plodding quietly from the room. Soft sounds could be heard drifting from downstairs, and he wondered how Lupin was doing, as he had volunteered to be on guard duty all evening.

McGonagall and Kingsley had left around 3a.m. after many complicated spells to try and figure out the exact magic used to transport the boy inside the protective enchantments of the burrow. It had been unnerving, because all the testing had been sound: none of the charms had been broken, or apparently disturbed by the fact a man had just popped into existence on the lawn.

Hermione had played around with many theories, but she kept returning to the whole 'old- religion' mumbo jumbo. Harry had decided to leave that up to her and not get too involved in her searching, though he himself was undeniable interested.

The smell of warm food finally dispelled the last of any worries as Harry descended the last of the stairs, and he took a moment just to appreciate the sense of family that the burrow offered him.

Mrs. Weasley in her tartan dressing gown, making her army sized breakfast (this time it was actually needed) Lupin sitting at the table with the morning paper, while Tonks lay sprawled across the couch asleep. Surprisingly Fred was awake too, the bandages wrapped around his head hid the wound he had received in early July- Harry still felt a pang of guilt every time he saw it.

The man still lay unconscious.

"Has he woken up at all?" Harry asked quietly, and Mrs. Weasley squawked with surprise.

"Oh Harry dear! Gave me a fright. No- no he hasn't. He's started moving a little bit though, so I suspect soon."

"Won't Kingsley or Professor McGonagall want to be here when he does?" Fred looked curious.

"No, I talked with them. If there is a threat we can send for help easily enough, subduing one injured man shouldn't be too difficult either. I told them I would let them know if any new developments occurred." Serene as always, Lupin smiled kindly at Harry.

At that moment, a moan froze them all in their spots.

Lupin was on his feet in a moment, rushing over to Tonks and shaking her awake. She was up and alert, and both drew their wands, but kept them lowered. Fred moved to stand a little in front of his mother, but still close enough to see anything that happened. Harry jumped off the last step, and moved to stand by Lupin's side.

The boy moved sluggishly, his hands unconsciously brushing against his stomach where the wound had been. He rolled his head, seeming to fight his way to the surface of awareness, and his face scrunched as his eyes peered open and then snapped closed at the light.

They waited a few minutes as he dared to slowly open and close his eyes again, accustoming to the bright sun that was now dominant in the lower levels of the Burrow.

Suddenly he gasped, and shot bolt upright, an expression of pure panic filling his features. He made to move off the stretcher, but hissed in pain, his arms clutching around his midriff. Tonks raised her wand, pointing it at him warningly as Lupin moved closer to help. The boy seemed to realize he was not alone, and looked at them wildly.

"Where am I?" His voice was pleasant, with a littering accent that Harry had never heard before, but bespoke of English, he flinched away from Lupin's outstretched arm until the man stepped back from him again.

"You don't know?" Fred asked incredulous, the boy shook his head. "Oh, well you kinda just appeared in the middle of our garden bleeding to death. After you made your way past our wards to prevent people from doing just that." His voice had a sarcastic edge.

"Magic?" He breathed, agitation was clear.

"You do know about magic, right?" a dubious Fred responded, the boy nodded sharply, but for some reason still looked glazed.

"So you're all sorcerers?" He asked, taking them all in.

"That is an old- fashioned term for us, most go by Witch or Wizard today."

"Today? Oh my god, what day is it?!" The panic was back.

"Erm… August 5." Harry spoke for the first time, and the boys intense blue eyes fixed on him, and raked him up in down, taking in his old jeans and ragged shirt. His eyes then rolled about the room, his lips becoming thinner and thinner.

"I think it's been a little more than 2 days…" He whispered to himself. "..and the year?" he choked out. All exchanged shocked glances.

"1996."

"Oh." The boy promptly laid back down, his eyes closed, body ridged, one arm around his stomach and the other covering his face. Harry shifted awkwardly, aware of the necessity to question him, but not quite sure how to start, so he decided to start with the basics.

"What's your name?" He attempted a light tone, ignoring the warning he got from Mrs. Weasley as he moved closer.

The boy uncovered his face, and looked at him for a moment, before opening his mouth, and answering. "My name is…."

Thank you to all the beautiful people reading my attempt at this story! Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I got to think of something fantastical way to keep you coming don't I? I hope you are enjoying what I have so far, and any ideas or suggestions please feel free to share. I shall update next week. Keep them reviews coming, and feel free to spread the link around!