A/N: Thank you guys for the reviews! I'm sorry about taking so long in getting this chapter out. Now, before you read the chapter, I want you to read this if you will. I am putting this on hold, as most of you probably can tell, but it will only be for a short time. I wanted to catch up on my other story, Seasons Change. After I do, I will continue this. Don't worry though, this story will not be abandoned.

Where are the Children

by: Min

a.k.a. xScenex

(A/N: I don't exactly remember when Dudley's birthday is and I don't feel like finding my book, so blah..)

Knock -- Knock…

BANG!

Jolted out of his dreams, a eight year old boy sat bolt upright on his small cot. His strait, ear-length, dark, cherry colored hair was slightly tangled from his few hours of sleep. His chocolate brown eyes were slightly wide with surprise, but slowly narrowed to their original state when he realized someone was only knocking on the door of the cupboard.

"Boy! Are you up yet?"

Mumbling slightly, the child scooted himself across the cot in the dark until he was able to scramble off of the edge. When his bare feet touched the cold wood of the floor, he hissed in displeasure. He moved his way over to where the door was, then opened it slowly, squinting at the light that filtered through.

"Boy! Hurry up and make yourself presentable! Dudley's friend is coming over for breakfast, and I want you in the kitchen in five minutes to watch the bacon. Do not let it burn, Boy -- or you'll find yourself in your cupboard for a week."

Alexander Potter, preferably called Alex, stood in the doorway of the small cupboard under the stairs, staring idly up at the large, beefy man he should call his uncle, but didn't have the heart to think he was, in any relation, an uncle to him.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," he muttered.

"Don't use that tone with me--"

Alex looked up into the eyes of the man as he cut him off, "Right, Uncle Vernon."

Alex, having just turned eight because of his birthday in May, had learned not to put up with half the stuff the Dursley's did and didn't do to him during the five years he'd lived there. He'd tolerate them, oh yes, but he wouldn't let them push him around. He was, after all, a Potter.

A Potter.

Alex could vaguely remember what it had been like with his parents and his younger brother. He knew magic was real, even though the Dursley's constantly said it wasn't. Alex knew it was real by the fact that he could remember his actual family, and that he had used accidental magic quite a few times.

His Aunt and Uncle had kept trying to persuade him into believing that his parents and brother were killed in a car accident when he was two, but Alex knew better. If it was even remotely true, then where did the tall, pale man with the vivid eyes come in? In his dreams, he could sometimes recall the man talking to a woman who he knew to be his mother as they stood in a large room. Then there was that bright, green light that he could recall being cast twice in the visions, or nightmares, that he'd have occasionally.

Those dreams were the only proof that he had for himself to claim that his family had been wizards, or a witch in his mother's case. Vernon had always told him it was nonsense, 'freakish thoughts.'

If only they'd accept the truth.

"Hurry up, Boy, we don't have all day," the large man grunted, then turned around and, in Alex's oppinion, waddled away into the living area.

"Yeah, yeah."

Turning around, the boy pulled on the string that hung from the ceiling so that a dim, yellow light filtered into the small space from the old light bulb.

Fumbling around in the dim light for a bit, he managed to find a pair of jeans and a shirt that would fit him somewhat normally. After changing and running a comb through his hair to straighten it out, he clicked the light off, then trudged out of his 'room.'

Upon walking into the kitchen, he saw that his Aunt had already started cooking the bacon. He walked up to her, told her that he could finish the job, and watched as she bustled away to the living area with the others so that she could fuss over her 'Dudikins.'

Alex, not really having much against the boy, thought he was obnoxious. While Dudley was younger than Alex, he had still tried to pick on him before with his friends, but soon, his cousin learned that if he wanted to mess with 'the Potter boy,' then he would soon find himself on the end of a loosing fight.

Having his mother and fathers attitudes when it came to arguing or fighting, no one wanted to be on the receiving end. Dudley actually felt quite subdued around Alex, much to the older boys pleasure.

Though, the redhead didn't exactly like that. He hated the feeling of being superior. It was something that he just couldn't stand.

Vaguely, Alex listened to the family in the living room, talking and laughing about how their baby boy was growing up. The boy snorted at this. It seemed as if every year, the boy known as Dudley would just act more like a baby, seeing that he was spoiled. He got everything he had ever wanted -- food, toys, electronics, books he didn't even read -- the list could go on forever.

Flipping the bacon that sizzled inside of the small pan on the stove, the redheaded boy glanced around the kitchen. On top of the table in the middle of the room, he saw that it was piled with presents. It seemed that he got more of them every year, and he idly wondered if the boy didn't already have everything already in either one of his two bedrooms.

A doorbell rang, and Alex sighed. This was just going to be another day of trying to keep Dudley and his friend away from him when they got bored -- in fear of getting in trouble if he defended himself, another day of putting up with the snide remarks of the obnoxious family that had 'adopted' him, and just another day of being 'that annoying Potter boy' that always got in the way.

And Gods, each and every single day hurt.

"-- and have a great weekend!"

The children in the classroom hurriedly moved around the room as they gathered their things in their backpacks and placed the chairs upside down on the square tables. The room was filled with the laughter and chatter of the children and the occasional clatter of things dropping.

Alex was moving slower, not liking to get stuck in the middle of a child rampage as they hurried to get outside of the room. He wasn't really in any hurry to get to the Dursley's home any time soon either. He was thinking about taking a detour to the park anyways.

He picked up his blue folder labeled 'Homework' and opened it up to place some sheets of paper in it with a newsletter telling about what they'd be doing next week. He was about to close the folder when he bit his bottom lip slightly, then leafed through the papers placed inside the right pocket.

After a moment of flicking through the graded assignments, he pulled out a normal, loose leafed piece of paper that was doodled on. He looked down at the picture almost lovingly. He wasn't the best drawer, but he did do a good job on the portrait he drew, especially for being a eight year old.

Sketched out onto the papers surface was four people. Two were adults, and the other two were children. One of the adults -- a woman -- had long hair that he'd colored red. She had green eyes, and was holding the hand of a man with black hair and brown eyes with glasses. Next to the two adults, a boy with black hair and green eyes had a grinning face and next to a redhead that resembled Alex.

Indeed, that was supposed to be Alex. He'd drawn it during their 'play' hour, when he'd had nothing to do. He vaguely remembered the images in his frequent dreams, and drew what he knew his parents looked like. Next to them, the children were supposed to be him and his brother that he remembered also from the dreams. Of course, he could only remember him as a baby, but he figured that he would look much like him. No one had ever told him he had a brother, but deep down inside, he just knew he had one.

Alex had been so focused on his thoughts and the picture, that he hadn't heard his teacher come up beside him.

"Alex?"

With a start, the boy turned around to face the nice woman with a fake smile placed automatically on his face, "Hi Miss Cannon."

"Alex, dear, what's that?" She pointed to the picture that Alex was holding, causing the boys smile to falter.

"It's just a drawing, ma'am."

"Of what? Do you mind telling me?"

Alex sighed inwardly before saying, "It's of my mum, dad, and brother."

Miss Cannon was silent for a moment, before she gave him a small smile, "I didn't know you had a brother."

The boy shrugged, prying his eyes away from hers, "No one told me I did, but I remember him in my dreams."

"Your dreams?" The woman questioned with curiosity.

"Yeah," he mumbled, fidgeting under her gaze, "I have dreams about my parents and him. I don't know his name though."

His teacher watched him with interest. She knew how his parents were dead and how he lived with his aunt and uncle. She'd never heard him talk about any of his family before, unless asked about them. Hearing him talk about having a brother was either his imagination, or he was thinking about someone that would visit his family, "I'm sorry dear."

"It's okay, ma'am. I'm used to it, really," he plastered another one of his fake smiles onto his face.

The woman smiled brightly, "You might want to hurry, dear. The rest of the class is already gone, and your aunt and uncle might get worried if you're not home."

"Right," Alex inwardly rolled his eyes, wanting to correct her about her mistake. Shouldering his backpack, he picked his chair up and placed it on top of his desk before trudging to the door and saying, "Bye Miss Cannon."

"Bye Alex. Have a good weekend."

He stepped out into the hall where stragglers ran about in the halls. Alex still had his drawing in his hands as he started towards the doors on the left wing of the school where he could go to the park without having to cross any main roads.

The day was warm with a slight breeze. There were large, puffy clouds in the sky and it looked as if it might rain any soon if the clouds didn't dissipate. It was the beginning of summer, and school would soon be out. Children were yelling and laughing all over the school grounds, and cars were lined up near the front of the building for the pick-ups.

Sighing slightly to himself, Alex walked almost mechanically towards the back roads that led to the small, secluded park where most old people went, or young couples with small children and babies. The boy liked the park a lot because most of the kids from his school never went there, or they didn't know about it.

Even though Alex didn't have Dudley and his friends to pick on him, he was still an outcast at his school. Not having actual parents anymore gave the bullies in his class reason to tease him, most of the time until he was close to tears. He liked to think himself tough, but he just couldn't keep his posture all the time, especially with his overly large clothing. Around his aunt and uncle, he could act calm, as if nothing ever bothered him. Though, when the kids his age made fun of him, it hurt -- a lot.

Staring languidly up at the clouds above him through the many branches of the trees that surrounded the asphalt road, he felt the feeling of loss in his heart. Just for once in his short life, he wished that there was someone that would accept him for who he was, besides the teachers that were practically forced to like you.

Alex, lost in his thoughts, slowed down for a moment. He felt as if someone was watching him. He turned around quickly, only to see nothing, though he could have sworn he heard some giggling.

Snorting to himself, the boy shook a few stray strands of hair out of his chocolate colored eyes, passing it off as nothing. Peering around, Alex saw a group of swings that weren't taken and slipped up to them. He dropped his backpack onto the ground near one of the poles, and folded the picture in his hands up before sticking it into his pockets then pulled himself up onto one of the rickety seats.

He kicked off the ground lightly, causing himself to move backwards a bit. After moving forward, he kicked back again, this time a bit harder so that he went back farther than the first time. Copying this action, he spent the next few minutes enjoying the feel of warm air on his face; it was much better than the stuffy cupboard air.

Soon, he decided to look around the park and see how many people were around. From where he was, he couldn't see anyone except for a middle aged man, no older than thirty, sitting alone on a bench with a sketch pad in his lap. He would look up every now and then at something on the ground, then he'd resume drawing on the paper.

Alex smiled to himself. He wondered what the man was drawing for a moment, then he saw a small, brown looking… thing on the ground a few feet in front of the man. He idly wondered what it was before looking away.

Some time passed while Harry watched the stranger every once in a while from the distance, until the sky grew reasonably dark because of the upcoming storm. When the wind picked up, cooler than before, the stranger peeked up at the sky, then gathered his things before strolling away down a path. Maybe I should go ahead and leave before the storm hits. I don't think Aunt Petunia would be too happy if I came home dripping wet and dragging mud into the house…

Before Alex could think any further, he felt his swing jerk to a stop as multiple footsteps came up behind him. As the swing was stopped, Alex found himself flying forward into the dirt with a loud thump!

He didn't cry out, though he was shocked. Shaking the dirt off of his face, he flipped his body around so that he could see who had come up behind him.

He recognized three boys that were a year ahead of him standing with their arms crossed as they were snickering. To most people, it would be pretty comical to see three boys trying to look so tough, but to Alex, it was slightly disconcerting. He was outnumbered, and it was obvious that the boys were looking for trouble.

"Well, well, well. Looks like Potty boy is all alone. What's wrong, missing your dead mummy?"

Alex's teeth were clenched tightly. He wouldn't respond to the bullies who were trying to provoke him. Standing up slowly, he brushed the dirt off of his overly large jeans and shirt and quickly grabbed his backpack so that they wouldn't take it from him.

"Leave me alone. I don't want to start any trouble."

He began walking away, then he heard one of the other boys pipe up, "Hey! Look at this! It looks like he drew a picture."

Turning around, the redhead saw that the boy was waving around the picture he'd drawn of his family. He felt around in his pockets to be sure that that was his picture, and sure enough, it was. "Give that back."

"Let's see what Potty drew," the leader of the group drawled, then jerked the paper out of his friends hands to see it, "Aw, it looks like he drew his family."

"Please, give it back." Alex whispered, knowing he'd be close to tears if they kept it up.

"What if I don't want to?"

"I asked nicely. It's not even yours, Dominick," he addressed the leader of the group.

"But who said I would give it back? Maybe I should rip it? You'd like that, huh?"

Having had enough of the taunting, Alex hurried forward and tried to pry the picture out of Dominick's grasp. He other two boys moved forward, each gripping one of his arms before they flung him down onto the ground harshly.

The redhead yelped in surprise and pain as he landed forcefully on rocks and sticks. His eyes watered a bit and he hissed through his clenched teeth, knowing he'd have tons of bruises on his back.

Laughter issued from the three bullies, and Alex felt his face grow red with anger and embarrassment. His eyes flashed with so many emotions at once, and had any of the other boys been staring directly at him at that moment, they probably would have faltered in their taunts.

Thunder rumbled loudly in the distance. The boys shut up as a loud whoosh of wind picked up, accompanied with thousands upon thousands of heavy raindrops. They shuffled around for a bit, and the redhead dimly heard them arguing about getting home until there was no noise besides the pitter patter of the raindrops as they fell heavily with the wind.

Sitting up and wincing, Alex looked around. His picture lay on the ground two feet in front of him, though it was beginning to accumulate the rain. Sighing to himself, he crawled over to the picture, smoothing it out and then folding it before placing it back into his pocket.

Alex was about to stand up when a small movement caught his attention. He peered out through the thick sheet of rain until he pinpointed the movement.

A small, brown kitten ambled over towards him, looking pathetic in the rain. Fur drenched and ears drooping, it mewled pitifully at him.

"Hey there," Alex whispered, holding his hands out for the creature.

It hurried forward and butted its head against his fingers. Alex scratched it behind its ears, smiling slightly. He moved to stand up, but in the meantime, the kitten latched onto the front of his shirt with a small mew.

Alex rolled his eyes and pried its claws out of his shirt, "I can't take you home, the Dursley's would just thrown you right back out."

The kitten looked up at him with large, brown eyes that seemed to hold so many secrets. It seemed as if after looking into its eyes, a spark of knowing and friendship flew between them, and the boy knew he couldn't just leave the kitten in the park.

To prevent the Dursley's from seeing the kitten, Alex stuck it in the front pocket of his backpack. He left it slightly unzipped, allowing the kitten to poke its head out every once in a while as he carried it gently in his hands.

As he hurried home through the pouring rain, he wondered vaguely what would happen if his 'family' did find out about the kitten. He would have to think some things over so that nothing would happen to either of them.

When Alex arrived at Privet Drive, he sighed and entered the house, making sure that the kitten wasn't noticeable.

"Where've you been, Boy?" A voice shouted from the living room.

"I was at the park," he dully replied.

After hearing a small grunt of dismissal, he went to his cupboard. Upon closing the door and turning on the old, yellowing light, he laid the bag on his bed and opened it. The kitten jumped out, still looking slightly like a drowned rat. It's fur was sticking on end, still damp from the rain. The boy, curious to know it's gender, had to look and found out that it was a male.

It began cleaning its fur and curled up on the thin blanket that lay on his cot. Alex smiled slightly and sat down next to it.

"I suppose you're mine now, huh?"

The kitten purred slightly and nudged his hand softly as if showing it's approval. The kitten looked up at him with eyes that rivaled his own. "What should I name you?"

The kitten looked up at him, head tilted slightly to the side. "How about Artemis? That sounds like a good name."

The small animal meowed its approval and Alex smiled. He lay down on the cot next to Artemis, wrapping an arm around the small plush that he had had since he was a baby that looked like a dog. His other arm encircled the kitten, which purred once more in contentment.

Alex, for once in his life, felt happy. He finally had a friend.