Hello my readers. Sorry it took me so long to post but I just moved recently, and it's a pain in the ass to find free time. Though it's mostly settled now, it'll probably be a week or two till you hear from me again. I'm still writing these chapters from my phone, so I apologize for it's slight choppy nature, and few misspelled words. I still lack a beta as well, so that still hinders me slightly.

Anyway, here's chapter 4 of asylum. Here we see Harry start to calm down, and Hermione is starting to take control of the relationship. Before the story starts I would like to respond to some reviews.

Lucky Jokes: yes they will be attending Hogwarts. They said it themselves, they are not big enough players to be bugging the higher ups. Right now at least, they will try to avoid making a big splash. As time goes on their action will get bolder, and more outlandish. I actually plan to continue beyond seventh year, but I may just stop there. I'm not a hundred percent yet on what to do past the finale I have planned.

randumbdave: Yes, I do get my Harry Potter rendition from the Dark Knight's joker. However there is a very substantial difference from that joker, and my Harry. To give it a name it would be Batman. Joker still has a goal to chase, however vauge or odd it may be. He's a mad dog, chasing the car that is Batman. Harry on the other hand has nothing to chase. So instead of the controlled mayhem that Joker caused, Harry's is a mere direction of his whims, and the whims of Hermione. So to slightly offset the character I'll throw in a human aspect. Won't be large, but it will have some deciding factors. I can't explain it very well, despite what I just said. Harry has taken his character, I'm writing it according to what I feel he wants.

One more thing. I dedicate this chapter to "god of all." Thank you for being my first reviewer. I appreciate it.

"Excuse" - Talk

Me - Thinking

Doctor - Parsletongue

Chapter 4 - We're crazy?

My mind was lost to thought. The letter was clutched in my hand, Harry trying to read it over my shoulder. Wizards? Witches? I glance at the letter again, the parchment rough under my fingers.

Who the bloody hell names a school Hogwarts?

On another note how are we supposed to get to wherever we need to go for supplies? No instruction, no map, nada. Maybe it's a prank. Helluva prank if someone trained an owl to fight it's nocturnal instincts, and train it as a courier.

Harry's indignant sound catches my attention and I see a second owl. This one has the same envelope that's in my hand, but it looks marginally thicker. Passing the letter to Harry I walk up to the owl. Taking the letter I read the mailing address:

Hermione Granger

In a Field

Left of an Old Oak Tree

I look right and see an out of place tree, the only Oak visible among the other indiscriminate greenery. So maybe it's not a prank, as I don't recall pissing off any psychics. Sighing I open the thick parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and

WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,

Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International

Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

It says the same thing as Harry's letter. Obviously some type of copy system in place. I turn to the second page to see if anything was different.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic

by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory

by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration

by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions

by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

Still nothing. No map, no guide, nothing. My hand peeled back the third page, and as soon as it separated from the second page it fell from my grasp. I stare at it as it made a thud on the ground. The page transformed into a book.

Mystical Mysteries and Muggle Magic

By I.M. Foreman

My hand traces the hardcover tomb, the letters sparkle slightly to my touch. Why did I get one, but not Harry? We're both ignorant of whatever the fuck this is. How could they give me one and not Harry. My eyes narrow slightly as I compared the letters a few more times. They were the same except for the book at the end.

Obviously it wasn't a prank. I felt the power spark as the page transformed, I could feel the energy writhing within the book, and I knew that there were others like us. Others who could manipulate and control the world. Shit. Not only are there others who can control the world in abundance, but they are fully trained.

I look again at the letters in my hand. Fuck, I'm not looking forward to meeting this guy Dumbledore. If his many titles are any indication, he's probably one of the more powerful people out there. I glance at Harry. We need to erase ourselves from this magical tracking system if we are to keep our freedom available.

Sighing I grab the book from the ground, and shudder slightly as a foreign sensation washes over me. Dropping the book again, I notice Harry doesn't seem bothered by lack of direction, he never is anyways. What to do. Shrugging of the sensation I felt earlier I grab the book once more. There's no sensation this time, just a cool breeze curling around the area.

"So?" He nudges me out of my musing. I turn to him, the book slightly heavy in my hands. I don't want to read it. I'm slightly perturbed of the knowledge of others like Harry.

"What?" He smiles at me and holds up the book. I glance down at my palms and see that they were empty. Seems he learned summoning. For a moment I wonder if there was another, official, term for it.

"We gonna read it or what?" Maybe, I'm not sure I trust it entirely yet. I could feel a sort of sentience in the books pages, I barely trusted humans as it were. I wasn't about to put my trust in pages that could lash out slightly with magic. Fingers still tingling from it's earlier probe I decide to let my body calm down first.

"Fine. Lets get to a hotel or something first. It's starting to get cold, and we've stayed here to long." I don't think the police could find us, but my mind whirled with the knowledge of another world. Obviously to have a school then there must be a form of regulatory system. A form of government, or a house structure, must be in place. I shudder thinking about cops that had our energy, our magic. Damnit, all it means is that we just ended up with a huge disadvantage. We can't use our powers to surprise them. We can't use the surprise of our abilities to harm others. A sneer makes it's way on my face, looks like we have to be creative.

"Come on, there's a city not to far from here. I saw it when I was blazing down the main road." I grip the parchment and toss him the book. He deftly grabs it before it hits the back of his head. I stuff the pages into my travel backpack. I stop when I realize something.

"Fuck!" He quirks his eyebrow and a small smile shows some teeth. His canines gleam a bit, and his wild hair seems to shift. I take a moment to recognize reality.

"Damnit, I forgot our stuff was under the bus." Laughing in a choppy style, he sticks his hands down his pants. He rummaged around slightly in his hidden pockets. He does this little show on purpose. He memorizes the entire contents of his trousers, and their pockets, to a photographic degree. Pulling out knives, and homemade explosives, out in a manner of moments, he slows down for show.

"Don't worry about it Luv." He smiles as he pulls out a bunch of gold and notes. We hold no emotional attachment to our stuff, so replacing them is quiet easy. It's still a pain in the ass however. Sighing I start walking after him.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Nice place.

There's a fire place in the living room, large windows, and a hallway leading to several doors. Harry knows my taste quiet well. Looking around I also several paintings decorating the wall. Photos of vacation, or at least memorable, moments adorn desks and table tops. The cackle of the fire soothes me as I look at the tied up family in the corner. Putting a hand behind my head in mock embarrassment, I start walking toward them. They stumble back slightly in fear.

We did just blast them into the corner, and make ropes appear around their huddled form. So fear is a likely product of experiencing something like that.

"Look we don't feel like killing ya'll at the moment. So in order to accomplish this we need your cooperation." Tears trailed down the mothers face, rage corrupted the fathers, and a form of shock-fear danced on the children's. I snort as I lean in toward the mom, and then I rip off the the tape.

"Wh-why are yo..." I backhand her harshly.

"First rule: don't speak. I don't want your voices grating on my ear drums. We won't harm you unless you disobey us. Frankly I don't feel up to much mayhem right now. I can be easily convinced other wise though, so don't push it." With fear she nodded. The father's anger centered on me the moment I struck her. Harry quips at his crows feet.

"Rule two: You will hold this with the utmost care." I place a parcel in her hand, purposely left out between gaps in the rope. I then hold a bright red button in my own hand. I smirked as her eyes widened, nearly dropping the package in fear. Harry giggles and mocks her clumsiness.

"Nah ah ah I wouldn't do that, not unless you're a HUGE fan of fireworks."

"Besides you realize how long it took me to create C-4 while on the fucking run? It'd be a great shame if it detonated prematurely." A white knuckle grip held the package close to herself, her body twisting slightly to try to protect her children from the blast, should it detonate. I chuckle slightly at the fruitless endeavor. My amusement turns toward the red faced husband.

"Though I'm sure you're used to premature detonation, eh?" Harry found it funny at least. This guy just sputtered into his gag. Well I'm not the best at jokes, that's more Harry's thing.

"Rule three: Don't you dare attack us. We find ourselves in need of transportation to a street near a certain train station. I doubt you know the one, as it's a good hour and a half away. I hold our lives in our hands, and it'd be terrible if your kids ended up dust before they could be shit-on by life." They just stare at us in disbelief and shock. I sigh at their disposition. Fuckers never respond the way I want them to, I ask them again while nodding.

They still don't get it. Idiots.

"Harry be a dear." He nods and a throws a knife at one of the kids. It buries itself deep in his thigh. A muffled scream tears though the gag. The father yells into his and flops over, worming his way to the boy. Tears and snot disfigure his face, as his father tries to comfort the crying child.

"Now that we got your attention, here's whats going to happen. I'm going to remove the gags and bindings. Tomorrow we will hop in the car and you will drive us to King's Cross in London. The wifey will sit in the passenger seat, the present I gave her resting in her lap. The kids in the back with Harry and I. We will not stop, and you will not try to signal other drivers, unless, of course, you find living to be unsatisfactory. If you do all this without pissing me off, then I'll give you the switch. Also if you think that tossing the bomb out the window, then I'll detonate it the second the window starts rolling down. Understood, Anderson Family, of 4372 Debrall lane, London?" I finish with the flat side of my gun resting on the cheek of the mom. All they do is nod with fear in their eyes.

I smirk and use my, heh, magic to cut the rope. Their body's sag in a way to relax, though the death grip on my firecracker speaks otherwise though.

The kids immediately scramble away from us, the one with the knife in his leg not getting as far. The father holds him tightly, soothing his fear, and pain. He looks at us with a promise of vengeance in his eyes. The mom just sits there holding the bomb, her mouth open in shock.

"Now onto more important matters." The Father sputters and draws himself up.

Damn. He's taller than I thought.

"Listen here you little-" he pauses as I hold up the button. His small retreat dissapears soon though.

"You won't do it. If you push that, even if it does explode, you don't want to die." Harry out right laughs at this man. I shrug my shoulders as I hit the button. His eyes widen, the woman screams, the kids cry, and Harry holds his sides as he rocks back slightly in his chair. He laughs because the top of the box exploded outwards in a small flare, confetti decorating the space above it. Then as the tense silence stretched on for a few seconds, a jack hopped out of the box. It's happy visage mocking the situation.

In a rage the father lunges toward us, I let his hands take my throat.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN MY FAMILY WITH A FUCKING JOKE!" Oh if only he knew our jokes were deadly, then he'd have paid attention for the punchline. The open mouth of the jester let loose a sickly green torrent of pain. Acid, mixed with some blood thinners, coated the weeping womans face. Her scream distracted the father, a distraction harry used to get close to the kids.

"Mary!" His air preventing grip goes from my throat to his thrashing wife. Screams gurgled through a melting mouth, eyes blinded to everything but pain.

Tch moron

He tries to comfort her as Harry plops himself between the two crying kids.

"Come on down cry! I mean didn't they teach you about breaking rules." In fear they nod to him. They nod to a child that just changed their lives forever.

"Don't you know this is the punishment that goes to those that break rules. Well improperly at least." Their eyes widen in horror at the thought. Their screaming mother forever imprinting an image in their minds.

"Bu-but it was only one!" The obvious older sibling states. I just shake my head. It could be said in passing, but if you broke it, Harry usually made you pay dearly.

"And had they broken more they'd be dead." Harry states with a dismissing wave. His cruel smirk only widens as knives fly out of his sleeve. He presses them slightly to their throats. Bodies tighten up immediately, they seem to recall that we're not normal kids.

I look at the man as he holds his wife close to his chest, trying to calm her down. He avoids the face with anything but a piece of cloth he tore from his shirt. It's full of holes as he tries to wipe off the acid. Most of it ran off with all her blood, but a pocket, or two, are still burning a hole into her skull.

She finally stopped flailing around as the shock set in, and she fell into unconsciousness. The husband set her down gently before rounding on us. His figure falls in dismay as he sees Harry between kids, a blade to each frail throat.

"Careful, wouldn't want to break rule three again huh, buddy?" A smug sounding Harry states. His voice sharp, and menacing.

"Now I believe because of your wife's unfortunate accident" his hands clench in rage "we need to update the schedule" Harry states, with a dark chuckle attached to the end. The guys gaze just hardens.

"Take us now. Hermione in the front, I'll be in the back next to sir-bleeds-like-a-bitch here. The other can stay with acid face. One false move and I slice his jugular." The dad nods in defeat, trying, by the look on his face, not to break rule one.

"Pip, pip! Lets go! I got a train to catch!" He says brightly before dragging up the bleeding kid. Heading out the door, I follow him, right behind the dad.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

The drive was peaceful. It was almost ruined by the kid crying, but eventually he passed out. The dad held the wheel in a hard grip, furious eyes would catch mine every now and again.

"Hmmm, what is this a map of, fucking Mars?" I mutter obscenities into the window I'm leaning against, Harry in the back messing with a huge white paper.

"I'm telling you to let me see it." I think he's holding it on it's side, at least that's what it looks like.

"Nah, I told you I got this." His brow furrows, he turns his head sideways, and then he turns the map clockwise 90°. I feel my eyebrow twitching again. He drops his arms, the map crinkling in his arms.

"Uh, I think we've been going the wrong way. We may, or may not, be in Alaska" He says with a sheepish laugh.

"That's it, give me the fucking map." He hesitates for a second before hanging his head in defeat. He folds up the map, and passes it to me like it's some sort of fragile treasure. I snort in disdain, and lean back in my seat.

"... Harry" I can't believe this. This mother fucker is gonna get stabbed.

"Yes" he perks up when I call him. I just want to hurt him more, like push him down the English channel with cement shoes.

"Why is this thing blank?" He looks at me like I'm the one saying something stupid.

"Well... I don't believe Mars has been mapped yet. So it's reasonable to believe that a map of it would be blank." I stare at him. Honestly, why did I think anything else would happen.

"Though, I agree, some would say that the blank map should at least be red, instead of white, but I disagree. I mean since it is unmapped, how do they know the color of the terrain?" I just stare at him. I turn to the dad to see him contemplating whether or not driving us off the bridge would be a good idea. He just sighs and forces himself to relax, instead. I toss the paper out the window.

"Hey! Do you know how long it took me to draw that?" The father hits his head on the steering wheel, as I palmed my face. I stare at Harry incredulously, he stares back for a bit, before he barks out with some harsh laughter. It's gleeful and wild, settling into some chuckles he pulls out another piece of paper.

"We're fairly close. Turn left when you reach the next light."

...

I just sink back in the seat and rub my temples.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"I appreciate the lift, it would have taken marginally longer to get here if you hadn't been so generous, as to take us." His eyes promise death, but he can't do anything as we're in public. Mothers walk by pushing their kids along, strangers strolling by ignorant of what really happened.

"Just stay away from us forever." Some of the more nosy people look indignant when he says this. I just smile and nod.

Turning around I walk into the hotel we stopped at, Harry's already at the front desk, talking up the secretary.

"So you see we don't have our parents with us, yet. We want to get into their rooms first, so we can surprise them when they walk through!" He flashes her a big smile, his eyes crinkle with the cheesy grin.

"Oh fine. I wish my kids were as thoughtful as you two. Here's the keys to 714, tell Mr. and Mrs. Tellintu I said hello" she waves us off brightly.

"Hmm I don't recall them saying they had kids." She shrugs the, out-spoken, thought off fairly quickly.

Riding the elevator I see a few people upturn their noses at us. While we may looked dressed appropriately for a fair degree of people, these prudish assholes believe we probably belong on the street. The smell we gave off probably didn't help. Fuck the Anderson family. I mainly wanted to eave them alone cause I wanted a shower, but no, they wanted to see what acid taste like.

We eventually reach our floor and hop off. Avoiding a few of the wandering bellhops, we make it to room 714. Using the code given to us by the secretary, we enter a large sized room. Harry whistles at it's unnecessary size. I just shrug off my clothes, and head toward the shower.

Hot water danced across my dirt caked body. I rub cigarette butts, glass, and several lumps of... something, out of my hair. I relax at the near boiling temperature, running my fingers through my brown locks that were being stripped of their natural oils. My shoulders lose their natural ache, my back release it's tension, and my legs wobble slightly under the waters pressure. Pressing my forehead against the bathroom tile, I hear a thump in the other room. I tense slightly, but force myself to relax.

She's dead. Most likely Harry tipped something over, or put the remote in the microwave.

I turn off the water, after letting it sit on cold for a few seconds. Stepping out I start running the towel over my body. Satisfied at my level of dryness, I open the door and let Harry rush in for his own shower. Rolling my shoulders I head to bead, my head throbbing from all the effort I put into today.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

I wake up in Harry's arms, our legs tangled with our nightly motions. I sigh and separate our bodies, embracing the hot air in the room. He mumbles something in his sleep, and rolls over. My eyes trace over the scars on his back. A frown makes its way on my face, he doesn't talk about it. To be fair I don't talk about my past either. However he killed my beast, so I want to kill his.

Shaking my head free of the morning fog, I hop out of bed. I twist my neck sharply, electing a few pops from my spine. I shrug on a sweater, and pull my pants on. Wiping the drool from my cheek I head out the door.

Stepping into the small den, that accompanied the room, I take out the book from my backpack. I slightly trace the carved cover, then start thumbing through the page.

Mystical Mysteries and Muggle Magic

By I.M. Foreman

So you find yourself to be a future wizard, or witch, of the magical world? Well since you have this book, clutched in the meaty meat of your meaty hands, then that means that you know a great vast knowledge of nothing, concerning the magical world at least.

I blanch at the diction of the book. Foremen seems... not of sound mind.

Don't worry I have created this book to help fill the void left in by your ignorance. Call me Doctor Foreman, here as an educator, though I suppose that would make me Doctor Professor Foreman. Has a nice ring, no?

Anyway, there are a few key terms to be made aware of, along with some general rules and such, so you don't come off as stupid. The first subject I'll expand on shall be that of key terms found within the magical areas of the world. The second will be some custom and courtesies, so you don't accidentally start duels, and blood feuds. The third shall be how to get to certain places within the magical world. The last will be references, should you want to endure further exhibitions into the knowledge of how not to stomp on toes.

I immediately decide I can't stand the fucker. Seriously, the errors found in the introduction alone sucks. No table of contents, no page numbers, it's like the writer just wrote down whatever he wanted, and moved on.

Sighing I slide a finger through a random page toward the back. Hopefully I find the "third part."

S... so in retrospect, having relations with her was a bad idea. Now as I was...

Fuck this guy. Seriously, what the hell? I thumb through some more pages.

As you could imagine, to be unknown for such a large amount of time, the magical world is hidden. So it only makes sense that it is a bit of a hassle to pass the barrier found between muggles and magicals.

To find these places, the ones not described in the book, or where my direction leave something to be desired, one merely has to be observant. Look for the unseen, the unheard, the irrational. If you pass by a location, a person, and feel a sense that you've seen it, them, or done it before, then it's magic. This sensation is most comenly referred to as deja vu, this feeling is actually the cognitive thought ignoring what was really there, what really happened.

I tell you the first time I...

He leads off into a twenty-three page tangent on how a thing named TARDIS worked, and how he found a secret use of it. Barmy that one.

There are a number of places that naturally cross over into the magical world. Sometimes muggles stumble across a few unregistered one or two, and end up in our world. Depending on where they are found first, a number of things can happen. Generally their memory is wiped, a simple obliviate, or they can be bled dry by a nearby coven of vampires. The magical world tries to keep track of these areas, but magic deems when one opens and closes, also where that happens. It could range anywhere from a persons livingroom, to a ice sheet in the Arctic. Some of the more permanent areas turn into heavily decorated entrances. One such place is King's Cross.

King's Cross is primarily a piece of the muggle community, but a certain part of it is a heavy traffic area to magicals. Now to introduce the prospect of observation, the exact location I won't reveal.

My eyes narrow as I picture an old man, I'm strangling him by his scarf for some reason. I hold no interest in reading the, I suspect, ravings of a madman, so I close the tomb. So all I do is look for something unseen?

Asshole, I hope you're dead.

AN: No they did not have sex. They merely sleep together, and have a slight disregard for clothes.

AN2: Who caught the Doctor Who reference before I mentioned TARDIS?