He was running. He wasn't sure what he was running to and it didn't matter. What mattered was what was behind him. He could hear the other behind him, could hear that cold voice taunting him.

His legs felt numb, his chest tight and he tripped. He scrambled forwards, turning as he did so and the shadowed figure moved closer, too close. All he could see were those eyes, those inhuman eyes. And there was a word, hissed out and then the green light.

"Harry!" A hand gripped his shoulder, too tight and he jerked-

"Harry!"

He came awake with a start, for a moment, disorientated until he took in the concerned grey eyes staring down at him and the fact that he was in his bed. It was a dream…just a dream.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad," he answered automatically, sitting up when his dad drew back to allow him space to.

The man raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sure about that?"

"Yeah…just a bad dream."

"Alright…well, better get up. You're going to be late for school."

Harry nodded, shaking off the lingering effects from the dream before he got out of bed. He rubbed his forehead after his dad left the room, could have sworn he'd felt some sort of phantom pain there but had no clue where that could have come from.

Stretching, he glanced around the room. He grimaced slightly. It was kind of a mess. He was sure that his dad was going to give him hell about that later. Going over to his dresser, he pulled out some clean clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

Xxxxxxx

At fifteen, Harry was well aware that he was not a normal boy. Of course he wasn't. He probably wouldn't be normal in any world. He had never minded though. Normal was kind of overrated, he figured. Normal meant he wouldn't have the dad he had, he wouldn't be learning the things he did.

He found his dad in the kitchen and wrinkled his nose at the burnt smell. He walked over just as his dad was getting rid of whatever it was he was cooking.

"Still trying that?" He asked, amused. Every once and a while, the man would get it into his head for some reason. Harry was only grateful that he hadn't burned anything down yet.

"I was experimenting," was the answer he received with a shrug.

Harry only grinned and went to the cabinets to find some pop tarts. Despite the fact that it had been over ten years since Harry had first come to live with the man, Cole Turner looked exactly like he had on that day.

Of course, officially, he wasn't Cole Turner any longer and hadn't been since that day. But Turner or Depew…whatever last name he used, he was exactly normal either.

"Alright, I'm gone." Harry pocketed the pop tarts, and waved a goodbye on his way out the door.

Xxxxxxx

"You're coming right?"

"Coming where?" Harry asked distractedly as he made it out the door of school after the last bell had rung. One of his friends, Danny, had caught up with him.

"To the party…Friday night. Zach's place?"

"Oh, yeah, maybe." Harry scanned the parking lot and frowned when he caught sight of a boy near the sidewalk on his bicycle.

"Come on. Stephanie will be there."

Harry fought not to grimace at the mention of this. Stephanie was the girl that sat next to him in English. She'd been giving him looks for a bit but Harry really wasn't interested. Not that he'd told anybody that. It wasn't Stephanie. She was nice enough Harry just wasn't really interested in any girls.

"I'll think about it," he told Danny before making his way over to the boy on the bike. He stopped in front of the boy, a frown on his face.

"What are you doing here?" This was probably the first time the other boy had shown up outside the school like this.

"I need to talk to you," he said, biting his lip and looking even more anxious than he usually did.

"Alright, let's go."

Xxxxxxxxx

Harry had known Christopher Halliwell since he'd been nine. They'd met at a park near where Harry and Cole had been living at the time. Some older kids, kids Harry's age, had been messing with the younger boy and Harry, not even sure why at the time, had stepped in.

They'd been friends since. Harry had never questioned it, despite the fact that Chris was a bit younger than him. There was just something about the younger boy that he'd always liked.

Now, he walked beside Chris, who was pushing his bike. Chris seemed nervous about something but that had become the norm as of late.

"What happened?" Harry asked, when they were far enough away from the high school.

"I had another one of those dreams," Chris admitted, chewing his lip and dropping his head so that his hair fell over his eyes.

"What was this one about?" Harry asked warily. The dreams. Harry was well accustomed to nightmares himself but his were all just that. Nightmares. Weird and disorienting and jumbled. Chris' dreams were different, at least from how the other boy had described them.

"Mom," Chris finally answered simply. .

"What about her?"

Chris hesitated before he mumbled his answer. "She kicked me out."

"What?"

Chris' head snapped up and his eyes were wide and frightened. "I don't know what I did! But she kicked me out. She told me to leave and not come back. She looked so angry."

"But…Chris, look, I know you're theory about them but they have to just be dreams. Your mom would never kick you out."

"She looked different," Chris said after a moment.

"Different how?" Harry pressed him. He was willing to do what he could to convince Chris that his dreams were just that-dreams. No matter how vivid they were or real they felt.

"She looked…younger, I guess."

"Younger?" Harry crossed his arms. "Well, there. You see? So, you can't be seeing the future then." That had been one of Chris' worries over the dreams. That maybe he'd inherited some form of one of his aunt's premonition power.

"Maybe you should talk to your mom and dad about them." He'd made that suggestion before and, just like the last times, Chris shook his head frantically.

"I can't."

"Maybe they could help. You shouldn't keep this from them any longer. You should tell them."

"You mean like you told your dad about the snake thing?" Chris countered, giving him the same look.

Harry grimaced and shook his head. "That's different." And he had told his dad once about it. When he'd been little and hadn't realized what it was he was doing.

"I still can't tell them," Chris said stubbornly, refusing to back down on the subject. Harry knew why. It wasn't because of some dream about his mom kicking him out. It was the ones he'd had about his older brother Wyatt that had him refusing to tell.

"Okay, fine," Harry relented with a sigh. He hesitated a moment. "You wanna sleep over tonight? I've got a lesson with Dana right now but you could come over later."

Chris visibly brightened at the offer. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Yeah." Harry waved it away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Cole Turner was only half the reason that Harry could never be considered normal. The other half belonged to his mother, who he had never met, or at least didn't remember at all. She was the reason that Harry went straight home after his normal school day, only to start a lesson with Dana Burrow, the woman who had taught him everything about the wizarding world and how to use that side of the magic that his mother had passed along to him.

She'd taught him the difference between the magical world that Chris and his family half resided in and the wizarding world that his mother had. The different types of magic.

Harry was aware of several facts. One of which was that the name on his original birth certificate was Harry Potter. Another was that there were probably people in the wizarding world that were still looking for him and that it had taken years for Cole to find someone willing to teach him that wouldn't turn him over.

Harry had to wonder sometimes just what Cole had told Dana in order to get her to agree to it but neither of them ever said. Cole had told him that the main reason why they'd be searching for him was because of some dark wizard that had attacked him when he'd been a baby.

At first, Harry hadn't understood why Cole would go to such great lengths to hide him. But he figured that, if they did find him, he might not be allowed to stay with Cole. Cole was a demon, after all and Harry had never protested the protection for fear of being taken away from the man.

Dana was a good teacher anyway and, for the most part, his lessons went pretty smoothly.

Xxxxxxxxx

Harry was nodding off against his headboard when Chris orbed straight into his room. The older boy jumped and then glared at him.

"I told you not to do that."

"Sorry," Chris mumbled. Harry sighed at the dejected look on his face and scooted over, settling down on the bed.

"Get in," he ordered and Chris immediately followed it, climbing into the bed beside Harry. Harry fell asleep pretty quickly, his breathing evening out a few minutes after Chris had stilled.

Chris watched him sleep for several minutes. His thoughts went to those dreams and how weird it had been with his mom after he'd gotten home earlier. He felt tears sting his eyes and angrily wiped at them.

Rolling over, he snuggled in closer to Harry. If anybody could keep those dreams away, it was Harry.