Albus Dumbledore looked dumbly at his instruments, hardly believing his eyes. All of them were showing readings: health, age, location, everything. It meant he was alive, it meant Harry Potter was alive. For the first time since the boy had gone missing, the headmaster allowed himself to hope. In the background, a phoenix sang.

London was huge. How were they supposed to find an entrance to a secret metahuman community in this place? It's been five days and still they haven't found anything. Not to mention it was raining again. But he had gotten this far, he managed to find his "aunt" on an entirely different continent after all. Aunt, the word left a vile taste in his mouth. All the words she uttered, all the insults. He couldn't shake them off his mind. At least, he told himself, she had the sense to abandon him instead of taking him in. It may not have made sense to another person, but it did to him. What would his life be like if he lived in a house where he was hated and reviled? How would he have turned out? At least this way, he found himself a family; no matter how dysfunctional they were.

The comm link in his ears buzzed and he heard his dad's voice. "Nothing here guys, no signs of metas anywhere. Not even one"

"Nothing here either" Eric replied.

"Sorry guys, can't see anything here" so Uncle Tim hasn't found anything either.

"Nothing here. I think it's time we head back" Grandpa didn't see anything then.

Eric sighed, it seemed so futile now, this search that they were on. Oh he had led them into this; that he knew. He felt guilty for a time, feeling like he had betrayed his father, his adoptive father that is, by looking for another family; yet all dad did when he confessed this was to brush the hair out of his eyes and told him he understood. Dick said that he himself had used to think of what life had been if he still lived in the circus with his parents. Eric may no longer feel guilty about trying to find his biological roots, knowing that his family understood and that he should learn how to control these mysterious powers, but he couldn't help but feel guilty by dragging everyone into this mess.

Hogwarts had a book of names, the enrollment list you could say. On it were the student's full names, addresses, as well as blood status. Pureblood, half-blood, muggle-born; while it does sound prejudiced, was actually essential to approaching a student. Muggle-born witches and wizards normally needed an adult to show them that yes, magic does exist and no, this is not a joke. Purebloods and half-bloods got a standard letter, assuming that at least one of their parents is magical. The only exception to this is rule is if the address was of a non-magical orphanage, either that or they were adopted from one. This normally meant that the child grew-up with muggle beliefs and would, like muggle-borns need some convincing. It was quite fortunate that this didn't happen often, the last being Tom Riddle some five decades ago.

Harry Potter did not belong to any of these categories, he was a half-blood who was entrusted to the care of his muggle aunt and uncle. Within a few years he was gone and was taken in by another muggle household, in America. But The USA was much too big for a search party, and since the muggles didn't even know which state they left their nephew in. (apparently they just kept driving and driving until they nearly ran out of gas, refilled and then kept going. Their goal was to get the child as far as possible from them, regardless of the state) All they knew was that they left him in an alley of some kind.

Ordinarily they would have treated him like a muggle-born, and have one of the professors to explain everything. But Harry Potter was The-Boy-Who-Lived. He and his family needed someone to explain that to them. Instead of the "magic does exist" conversation they would need a "magic exists and your son is an internationally known idol of the wizarding masses who brought down a powerful dark lord when he was one. Yes, one. Oh and be careful, his followers, the Death Eaters might still be around and would dearly want him dead" conversation. It was a much more delicate matter. It was for this reason that Albus Dumbledore himself would deliver the letter.

And so that was where Dumbledore found himself, outside a five star muggle hotel, looking for the penthouse suite. A jolt of nervousness went through him as he read out the address for the receptionist (The Royal Hotel, Penthouse suite number 3, the last bedroom on the right) not including the last bit however, he knew better than to include that one. He watched anxiously as the man paged the suite.

"Mr. Wayne? Al-bus Dumb-el-door is here to see you. Yes, Dumb-el-door."

"Tell him" Dumbledore told the receptionist, "that it has something to do with his son, the one that's turning eleven this year" He hoped that this Mr. Wayne was Harry's father and just to make sure, placed the age he would be this year. He couldn't be sure that they didn't change his name after all.

The receptionist hailed one of the bellboys and asked him to lead the aged wizard to the suite. The bellboy looked bemused at his clothes and Dumbledore started to doubt his choice in coming in a robe, too late now. He was greeted by a man whose long hair was tied back.

Dumbledore offered his hand, "Albus Dumbledore, it's a pleasure to meet you"

"Richard Grayson, but my friends call me Dick" The man took his hand in a firm grip before showing him in. Grayson? Shouldn't it be Wayne?

In the center of the room were three others, seated around a circular glass table. He only took notice of one. He looks, exactly like his father, but with her eyes. Lily's eyes

A cough startled him out of his thoughts

"I assume " Dick said, his face betraying nothing, "that you're here for my son?" He nodded to Harry, who was quite understandably tense.

" Quite so, Yes" the wizard replied, his eyes twinkling.

The eldest, a man who looked like he could be the father to Dick and the other, still silent male in the room, stood up. "But why ask for one of my sons? Timmy" He gestured to the person whose back was against the window, "isn't eleven" he chuckled a bit.

"My mistake" Dumbledore said cheerfully, "I didn't know who answered the phone." At least he hoped it was a phone.

"Bruce Wayne" The man introduced himself, "The one beside me is Timothy Drake" If he was his son then why did they have different surnames? " Or Timothy Drake-Wayne if you prefer" Dumbledore nodded, "and Eric Grayson"

Dumbledore handed Harry—no-Eric his Hogwarts letter "This is an enrollment letter from my school.

"Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry" Eric read aloud, his mouth forming a surprised O. He exchanged looks with Dick. This was it, witches and wizards. They've found them. Or rather they found us Eric thought, amused in spite of it all. Speaking of which, how did they?

"Gee, Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Bruce blinked, "As in magic wands and pointy hats?" Bruce the socialite made it sound like a joke, the Batman in him was subtly pressing for information.

"Don't forget the broomsticks" Tim muttered, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. Dick snorted. Information gathering aside, Eric did find it kinda funny and had a hard time keeping his chuckles under control.

"As it happens, yes. Magic wands, hats, and flying brooms are real" That shut them up.

"Are you alright sir? I mean, magic? Really?" Didn't shut Bruce up apparently.

"Stereotypical isn't it?" Dick scowled,

"Very" Tim's mouth tilted upwards before becoming neutral again. Eric smiled, looks like its about time to put the shocked look out of the way, and make way for the "no way" look. Dad got it right though he mused, it was very stereotypical

"Is this some kind of prank?" he asked, letting his amusement come out this time.

The old man, as Eric has come to privately call him, looked as cheerful as ever.

"I'm afraid not" The elderly, wizard smiled at them in this weird grandfatherly way.

Dick's eyes narrowed, "prove it" Dumbledore took out this stick, wand they all deduced mentally, and waved it. Suddenly the circular table started floating, along with everything on it.

Dick, Eric and Tim let their surprise show, knowing full well that hiding it would make them seem more suspicious. Still, they knew quite well that there were metas out there who could do this (Raven for example) and more. Bruce, who was used to acting dumb, promptly fell out of his chair.

The table instantly floated back down "I'm deeply sorry for the shock I just caused you"

Bruce nodded dumbly, Dick looked like he'd seen a ghost, Tim froze in place, and Eric stared. We're a bunch of good actors aren't we? Eric inwardly smirked. Still, they were surprised, they just wouldn't normally show it so…openly.

"So magic is real" Dick said slowly, "and Eric has this…magic"

"Excellently put Mr. Grayson" Dumbledore smiled.

Tim looked curious "So basically he's a meta human right?" They all watched Dumbledore, trying to asses his body language and wondering over his response. To their surprise the wizard's reply was: "meta human?" If Dumbledore knew how much information that one question gave them, surprise would be an understatement. These wizards and witches were mostly cut off from the world outside their society, if they didn't know about something as headline worthy as meta humans then they most probably didn't have the technology available. After all Superman, the JLA, the Teen Titans, Batman, Nightwing and other costumed vigilantes made the news regularlythen they probably didn't have a way to receive it. This of course led to the conclusion that theirs was an isolated society, one that was probably too concerned about things that happened internally to bother with the rest of the world.

The thing is, they did have contacts here, how else could they have found them? And how do they keep all of these a secret from the rest of the world, a world full of aliens and such. So these people had little outside world contact, and nonexistent knowledge of important events and figures. Most likely haven't seen modern technology, let alone have a high-tech base. (whether criminal or otherwise) They have the advantage there. However, they would make up for the lack of technology with their magic, making them entirely dependent on it.

Bruce laughed, "You know, Superman? Wonderwoman?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't quite understand what you're saying"

"Nevermind" Tim sighed, "its nothing important"

"So this Hogwarts, it's a school for—wizards and witches?" Dick frowned. Population of their society was large enough to necessitate a learning institution then. Dumbledore nodded his eyes twinkling once more.

"My parents, the biological ones, did they go there?" Eric asked

"Yes, my boy, two of the brightest in their generation. We mourned their deaths and are very sorry for your loss"

Eric stared at him, mouth in a grim line. "How did they die?"

Dumbledore inwardly winced, "It is quite a long story you see…"

I thank you all for still keeping up with this, most especially Bumpkin. Know that you're the reason I actually decided to write this chapter.