A/N: As I promised, the third chapter will include Harry. Just to give a quick heads up, this will be set in his fifth year and will not really follow much of the book. I might cite some important events, not quite sure yet, but I will put all my focus on Sephiroth-sama and the others.

Another thing, this will be yaoi but not overly much. And development would be a little slow so forgive me in advance. Heck, Cloud isn't even here yet. (clears throat) Although, I plan on putting lemons here and there, I'll put some divisions so that some readers who may not like it can skip the parts.

I'm also sorry if I don't portray the characters well. I'm trying to make it as close to the original characters as I could. Please don't hesitate to tell me anything. Criticisms are always welcome.

Almost forgot: I don't own any of them. If I did, I'd be pretty rich right now and I'm not.

Thank you very much to Wasabi-sama, Eriol-sama, libsrevenge who reviewed my story. I'm not spoiling anything though! :b

Thank you also to eclipse ze lunachic for putting me in your favorite stories list! I am honored, truly.

And of course, to all those people who read my story, thank you very much!

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

CHAPTER 3

Summer had always been Harry's least favorite season. In the past, before he had even known about Hogwarts, he had always despised it because he would be at the Dursleys all the time. This meant that he could not escape Dudley and his goons bullying him, Aunt Petunia shouting how practically worthless he was and no different from his mother, and Uncle Vernon cursing at him and threatening to not feed him in the next five days, or so.

With Hogwarts, he saw very little of his relatives unless absolutely necessary, and it was, according to Professor Dumbledore, who said that it was for his own protection. Still, he couldn't help but feel homesick. Hogwarts would always feel more like a home than the Dursleys' and he missed his friends quite a lot.

He looked out at his window that faced the street, and ran a hand through his messy, black hair. He wished he could just go to the Burrow or something. Or maybe just outside for a couple of hours. Besides being constantly harassed by the Dursleys, he was prohibited to go outside and take out any and all things that were related to magic simply because one of his windows faced the new neighbor's house. Apparently, they did not want him to be seen by said neighbor who was some kind of rich businessman. Not that he wanted to be seen, really. He was not interested in anybody who would be friends with the Dursleys. They would probably be just like them, or worse.

He would often hear Aunt Petunia say how the neighbors liked the pies she baked and Uncle Vernon tell Dudley that he had to make friends with the neighbor's three sons.

How disgusting. They were being showered by the Dursleys' attempt to impress them since autumn last year apparently. Though, if they were really as rich as the Dursleys thought, why pick some drab street like Privet Drive to build a dream home? It must have been some publicity thing because the neighbor, as Uncle Vernon had said enviously, bought the three properties beside theirs and built the grand mansion from scratch.

It just so happened that Harry's room was directly in front of one of the kids' bedrooms.

Harry sighed. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, to be honest. The sun was shining, no clouds in the sky. It was a perfect day. He debated whether he should go downstairs and risk Uncle Vernon getting angry. Then again, he never really gave much thought to the Dursleys' threats anymore than he did five years ago.

In the next month, he would be celebrating his birthday and a month after that; he would be going back to Hogwarts. His relatives didn't want him there anymore than he wanted to stay so they wouldn't use not going to Hogwarts as a threat.

Mind made up, he walked away from the window and out the door. He still kept himself quiet as he went down the stairs, though. If he was caught by Aunt Petunia, he would never hear the end of it. Really.

He slowly poked his head out form the stairs, hearing Aunt Petunia moving around the kitchen and muttering about neighbors trying to outdo her. He tiptoed towards the living room. Since Uncle Vernon was out at work and wouldn't be home for hours and the television was not blaring, he assumed his whale of a cousin was hanging out with his cronies, probably bullying some defenseless kid.

Good. He wouldn't be home for hours.

He turned the knob, and pulled it open, flinching when it made a barely audible creak that seemed to blare in his ears. He turned toward the kitchen, finding Aunt Petunia undisturbed as she opened the oven and took out a freshly baked set of chocolate chip cookies.

Quickly as he could, he darted out the door and went outside. He was momentarily blinded by the sun but the warmth was something he had not experienced since he'd been back. Looking around, there weren't too many people outside at all. Still, the quiet and the cool breeze was a welcome comfort than being stuck inside all day with relatives breathing down your neck.

He walked a bit and saw the high wall that protected the mansion from wandering eyes. It was just tall enough to prevent Aunt Petunia's snooping around. Thick iron gates painted in black stood at the front, intimidating any who would come near, though the intricate detail of vines and leaves painted in autumn colors made it less daunting.

He had to admit, it was really classy. He turned his gaze back to his direction and was almost past the gate when a baseball suddenly jumped from within, bounced on his head then settled comfortably in his arms. From inside the gates, he heard three different voices.

"You did it again! This is the third time you hit the ball too hard!" said the voice of a young boy, followed by footsteps toward the gate.

"I thought that was the point in this game?" said another voice questioningly albeit emotionlessly.

"I-I'm sorry," another voice said, sniffling. "I didn't mean to…"

"You're making him cry again," said the emotionless voice. "Mom's not going to like this."

"I-I'm not crying!" said the owner of the second voice, but it was evident, even to Harry, that he was if the sniffling and the hiccups were any indication.

"Oh, come on, Loz, don't cry! Geez, we'll just get the ball back and we'll start over okay?" sighed the first voice, consolingly. "You just have to remember to hit it within the gates!"

"O-okay!" said the crying voice timidly, still sniffling.

Harry stood there listening to the conversation, a little curious and amused. He moved just as the gate opened and stood before three ten year old boys, his hand outstretched to give their ball back. His eyes widened as he took sight of them.

The three boys shared silvery white hair and green eyes that reminded Harry of little marbles. His eyes first landed on the sniffling one, who was a little taller and broader than his brothers. His hair was short and it stood up despite its gentle waves. He was also quite shy as he turned away from Harry's eyes, a bit uncomfortable as he sidled closer to the boy who seemed to be their leader.

"Can we have our ball back?" he asked politely but he regarded Harry with a frosty glare as he stood in front of his brothers as if to protect them. Unlike the sniffling one, he was smaller and slender, his hair framing his defiant, elfin face.

The other brother remained unaffected as he continued reading a book entitled "Loveless". He was easily just as tall as the sniffling one but he was slender and slim, and his hair fell limply down his back.

When Harry dropped the ball to the leader's waiting hand and shrugged, about to walk away, the quiet one spoke, his voice breathy and gentle, reminding Harry of Luna Lovegood.

"Thank you for returning our ball," he said, raising his eerie green eyes to meet his. He tilted his head in the direction of the house just a few feet away. "Would you like to come inside for some lemonade and some pie? It's the least we can do."

Harry was about to refuse and their leader was about to protest when the quiet boy said with finality, "I insist", and walked away without another word, the previously crying boy, giving them a shrug and trotting on the winding path towards the house.

"Kadaj, please don't forget to close the gates," the quiet boy called out as he opened the front door, slipping inside with his brother in tow.

Harry found himself in quite a predicament as he didn't even get a word in between the three. The leader, Kadaj, simply rolled his eyes and regarded the boy who lived with an impatient stare which the latter returned rather uncertainly.

"Well? Are you coming in or not?" He said after a moment, opening the gate just wide enough for Harry to pass through. As awkward as it was, Harry wordlessly, went through the gate and followed Kadaj into the mansion.

The mansion was easily the most spectacular house in Privet Drive, and now he could tell why Uncle Vernon was so envious. The mansion was three stories high all decked out in white. There were wide steps leading to the extravagant front door. The front door was made of thick, well polished wood framed by an arch with stained glass around the curve just above the door frame. Above the door was a wide balcony held up by two Grecian pillars that stood at the first step of the front door, their height reaching more than half the mansion's entire height. The balcony was round with railing made from widely spaced marble columns with winding black iron vines tipped in shiny bronze leaves and flowers.

The door to the balcony was made entirely of glass and it was opened that afternoon, allowing the breeze to enter and making the thin cream-colored curtains sway gently. On either side of the large balcony were two smaller ones with almost the same design except the smaller ones lacked the admirable size of the door and the marble railing. Instead it kept the wound vines and bronze leaves, their patterns pointing towards the grand balcony. Directly beneath the smaller balconies were pairs of French windows, all open to admit the summer breeze, the curtains, though light, obscured what was inside.

Bushes of roses, hyacinths, and all kinds of flowers bordered the house and the path Harry was walking on, which he later realized branched out to a tented pool on the other side of the property. There were also a few pairs of strange white trees that bent towards each other, forming a natural archway to the pool. He stared at the fruit that dangled from one of the branches, blinking. He rubbed his eyes and stared, not quite sure he had seen correctly.

"Hey, come on inside already before Loz eats up all the pie," said Kadaj, irritated, breaking Harry's interest with the fruit. He gave one last look before he entered the door first, followed by Kadaj who shut it with an audible click. He forced himself not to think about what could have been a blue apple.

If the outside seemed a bit classy, the inside would have been called sophisticated and modern minimalist. The house was very bright on the inside with the walls painted in cream with thin borderlines on the top and bottom painted in a deep red color. The marble floors were polished to perfection though before Harry could step foot into the marble step, Kadaj stopped him and gestured to a pair of cotton slippers while he reached for his own.

"The cleaner will kill you if she finds out you messed up the floor," he said by way of explanation. "She wants it shiny and perfect just the way Dad likes it."

After putting on silly--yet very comfortable-- blue slippers with little yellow stars on them, Harry followed Kadaj as he moved across the living room area where a large, black leather couch laid in front of a fire. Harry thought it odd that a fire was burning, even if it was a weak one and faintly heard Kadaj muttering about his parents and uncles moving to his Dad's study. Chairs were artfully strewn about the room and, on the opposite side of the fireplace, was a miniature bar, complete with stools, granite countertops, a selection of wines and liquor behind glass shelves and champagne glasses hanging upside down.

Behind a winding staircase was a set of double doors painted in dark brown and intricately carved with what could have been wings with their bases on the brass handles. A small distance away was another door with the same design only it had just one right wing. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw the balcony's rounded floor just above his head, a slightly wide corridor stretching on either side of the house before ending on the opposite side of the balcony with the same winding staircase. There were five doors on the right side just above the bar, paintings hanging on the spare walls.

Looking back to where Kadaj was headed, Harry saw an open archway beside the bar that apparently led to the kitchen if the sounds of tinkling silver and plates were any indication. He went through the archway and saw Aunt Petunia's dream kitchen, one she would never ever have.

It was bright inside and filled with large windows to let in the sunlight. Polished wood made up the cupboards and the large table and chairs. There was a small island separating the kitchen from the dining area and like the bar, most of the countertops were done in granite. The stove was inlaid and below it was the wide door of the oven. Right by one of the large windows was the sink made of stainless steel with brass knobs on either side of the spout.

Sitting on the empty countertop was Kadaj's brothers indulging in pie and lemonade as they said. Only half of the pie remained and the two had set aside two small saucers and dessert forks for them as well as two tall glasses.

When Kadaj approached, he helped himself and placed a slice of pie on a saucer. To Harry's astonishment, the boy whom he thought of as a prat that reminded him incredibly of Draco Malfoy, handed the slice to him first.

"It's bad manners to serve yourself first. Guests must always be prioritized," he said monotonously, shrugging.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly, accepting the offered dessert. He waited for Kadaj to get his own slice before tasting the pie.

It was nothing like he had ever tasted before and it must have shown in his face because Loz grinned. "Our mom made that pie for us," he said proudly. "It's her special du-apple pie from one of our uncle's farms."

"By the way, I don't think we've been properly introduced," said the quiet one of the boys. "I am Yazoo Crescent and these are my brothers, Kadaj and Loz. You are?"

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter," he answered. "Nice to meet you."

The three boys stared at him, then, making him uncomfortable.

"You're not like the others, aren't you?" asked Kadaj, his sharp eyes trained on Harry's face as he drank some lemonade. "This is the first time since we got here that we didn't have anybody sucking up to us. Particularly that big boar in human's clothing next door."

Harry sputtered and choked in an effort not to laugh. At the curious glances, he said, "he's my cousin", and watched those marble jade eyes widen.

Loz whistled. "I didn't expect that. You look nothing alike."

"How come we haven't seen you before?" Yazoo asked, tilting his head to the side. "You are not hard to miss."

Harry grimaced. "I'm not allowed to go outside. My relatives don't like me and they don't want to be associated with me."

Kadaj snorted. "Shouldn't that be the other way around? If it were me, I wouldn't want to be associated with any of them, either, especially your cousin. No offense."

"None taken," Harry replied nicely. "I heard you just moved in late last year. I don't know much because I study in a boarding school so I'm really not surprised you don't know me, too."

"Well, it's really great to meet you. Not everyone here is nice. They just want to get free stuff," said Yazoo, taking another slice of the pie. "I'm sure Mom and Dad would like to meet you. It's the first time we've ever invited anyone from outside."

"What do you think about Privet Drive so far?" Harry asked.

"It's cool," Loz answered. "It's really quiet compared to the city but this place is full of gossips."

Aunt Petunia came to mind.

"Especially the horse-faced lady who brings those nauseatingly sweet cookies", added Kadaj. "I don't like her and I don't know where she sprouts from. Like a fungus."

"She's worse than Dad's stalkers", Yazoo finished, looking at Harry. "She's related to you, isn't she?"

The embarrassment on Harry's face was enough indication and the three boys nodded.

"Figures", said Kadaj. "If the boar is his cousin, it's just natural to have an aunt who's a horse."

"So," Loz began, thoughtfully. "In that case, your uncle must be the walrus with the moustache and the beady eyes."

Harry nodded, stifling a chuckle, startled when Loz pumped his fist in the air. "I'm right!" he shouted triumphantly.

"Hey, what's going on out here? And who's your new friend?"

All boys looked toward the archway where a raven-haired man stood leaning against it, a bright smile on his face. He was very tall, around six feet, perhaps, and muscular, though not so much to be termed brawny. His hair stood in spikes like a porcupine's quills and a few loose locks fell over his right eye. His smile reached his bright, blue eyes, mischievous and very contagious as Harry found himself wanting to smile, too. He was wearing a plain white shirt with a white flower printed in the middle with the words "Gaia's Garden" right below it in elegant script.

The brothers grinned at him. "Hey, Uncle Zack. Is your meeting already over?"

"Sure is", said the easy going man as he languidly walked over to them. "Your Dad's just tidying up a little in the office." He turned to Harry. "So, what's your name, kiddo?"

Harry smiled. He just couldn't help it. "I'm Harry, sir. Harry Potter."

Zack's eyes widened at that but it was gone a second later, his smile returning in full force. "Well, nice to meet you, Harry. Just call me Zack, okay? Formality makes me feel old." He took his much larger hand out to Harry and they shook hands. Harry thought his hand was going to be crushed but Zack had a firm yet gentle grasp. "You be careful around these squirts. They're pretty tricky, just like their parents."

"I'll take that as a compliment," said a soft female voice.

"Mom!" The boys hopped off the counters and bounced to the young lad with long brown hair tied in a pink bow at the top of her head and twirled around each other all the way to the tip. She was easily the prettiest girl Harry had ever seen and she had such a kind smile, too. She was a little small, reaching Zack's shoulder at best, and was physically fragile and slender. Somehow, he could see where Kadaj and Yazoo's willowy forms came from. She was dressed in a pink dress that reached her knees overlaid with a light brown jacket with sleeves that went past her wrists.

"Your pie's the best, Mom," said Loz, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come meet our new friend!" said Yazoo, the quiet boy raising his voice to be heard by his mother.

"He's related to the horse-faced lady!" shouted Kadaj with utter disgust.

"Kadaj, that is not a nice thing to say," the brunette reprimanded, Kadaj hanging his head in shame. "And in front of someone who is related to her, too."

"But Harry doesn't like her. He said it was okay," Kadaj reasoned.

Zack burst out laughing, the brunette glaring at him momentarily before turning back to her son. "Be that as it may, it's still not nice."

"Oh, come on, Aerith, you have to admit she annoys you just as much as she does them, and you don't even live here", said Zack, in between his chuckles.

Harry's eyes widened in shock as his gaze flitted from the woman to the three boys. Were their parents divorced or something?

Catching the look in his face, the woman decided to answer his unvoiced question. "Their father and I were never married but we are still friends and we share custody of the boys." She smiled warmly at him, holding out her hand that was no larger than his own. "I'm Aerith Gainsborough. What's your name?"

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said for the third time that day that no one knew him as the boy who lived. He shook hands with Aerith and returned her smile. "It's great to meet you, ma'am."

"You can just call me Aerith. I don't mind."

"Careful before he bursts," drawled a deep male voice from the doorway.

Harry turned to see an attractive brunette male with short hair framing his handsome face, striding leisurely towards them with a raven haired man right behind him. The man was quite elegant in his dark red dress shirt, arms crossed in front of his chest, outlining the muscles in his arms and shoulders. His uncommonly vivid blue eyes, stared at Harry curiously, before it focused elsewhere.

The raven haired man was a little taller and broader than the brunette, his gait a little straighter and military-like. His amethyst eyes were sharp and oddly bright as he stared down at Harry as well. His hair was short and framed his angular face and he was stylishly unshaven. His mouth was set in a firm line as he stopped beside Zack.

"Sephiroth is going to kill you for messing up his office," he said blankly as Aerith trotted to the large fridge and pulled out another pie. "Thought you should know."

Harry watched amused as the color in Zack's face drained away and his mouth slacked.

"But, I didn't mess it up! I just misplaced some of the papers!"

"If that's what you mean by dropping a stack and stuffing it in a drawer then running away, I'm surprised Aerith lets you anywhere near her office," the male brunette drawled, thanking Aerith for handing him a slice of her pie.

Aerith smiled. "Oh, I don't. Zack and papers don't mix well." She handed a slice to the other raven-haired male.

"Oh, Uncle Zack is gonna get it," the three boys taunted, poking Zack on the side.

"He won't do that! We have a guest in the house!" Zack exclaimed, taking Harry by the shoulders and pulling him with surprising ease before him like a shield. "Harry would be traumatized for life!"

The brunette male took Harry's wrist and pulled him away from Zack's hold. "That can be remedied. We'll take the guest to the entertainment room while Sephiroth breaks all your bones." He turned to Harry. "I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch your name."

"Harry Potter, sir."

The man nodded. "I'm Genesis. Genesis Rhapsodos." He pointed to the raven haired man with his thumb. "That one over there is Angeal Hewley." The raven haired man nodded his head in acknowledgment.

All activity stopped when they heard heavy footfalls approaching the kitchen. The boys looked at Zack and began taunting him again, and Harry was left with anticipation as the man they called Sephiroth drew near.

"He's doing it on purpose!" Zack exclaimed.

"Doing what on purpose?" Harry found himself asking though he didn't expect his voice to be so loud in the silence.

"It's a psychological maneuver," the man named Angeal answered for him. "He's using his footsteps to intimidate Zack and prolong the suspense of whatever is in store for him. It works every single time. Sadly, Zack never seems to learn."

The footsteps ended as the man became visible under the arch. The willful and commanding presence of the man left Harry absolutely breathless. He was just too good to be real.

A/N: Ehehe, so there, they, um, finally met with each other… Phew! That was a long chapter but I think the A/N lengthened it quite a bit. Sorry about that. I hope you like this one. So sorry for the super slow development but I'll get there I promise. Were anyone surprised about the kids? I hope that made some sense. Any questions please don't hesitate to ask.

If you want, you can leave me a review, tell me how I did. Thanks and I'll update as soon as I can.