This is a Bruce adopts Harry story.

Hulk's Son

Chapter 1: I Just Want to Get Away

Harry Potter's breath was ragged as he ran. His feet hurt in his ratty, too big trainers. But he kept running. If he stopped running that meant that his cousin and his friends would catch him. If they caught him it would mean bad things for Harry.

This game of cat and mouse dubbed 'Harry Hunting' was nearly a daily occurrence. It had been happening since the beginning of the school year. Ever since Aunt Petunia had agreed to let Dudley walk home from school by himself. Harry had been walking home by himself since he started school or at least Aunt Petunia had made him walk a good few yards behind her and Dudley when she came to pick him up. Harry was certain she had hoped to lose him, and that he wouldn't be able to find his way back to Privet Drive.

Harry tried slipping out of class before Dudley and his friends. He took longer routes home to avoid them. However, there were just some days that Harry couldn't escape them. Dudley, of course, was never involved in the actual chasing due to his massive weight. But he had plenty of friends to do the job for him. Harry was fast but even he couldn't outrun a whole pack of his fellow six-year-olds.

Harry decided to duck behind a bush in an attempt to rest a bit. Hopefully they wouldn't see him, and they would just keep running past him. It worked and the group of bullies sprinted past without catching sight of Harry's hiding place. Harry cautiously waited a few minutes before extracting himself from the bushes. He hadn't accounted for the fact that Dudley was so far behind the rest of the boys that he would just be rounding the corner when Harry stumbled out of the bushes.

"He's over here!" he screamed, his face red and flushed from exertion as his chins quivered.

Harry's panicked gaze shot back down the street. Dudley's loud scream had brought the other boys back, and now Harry was boxed in. He had no choice but to sprint across the street, into a little alley between two houses. Unfortunately, Harry's luck had run out for the day, and there was a fence blocking his path. If it had been a chained link fence Harry would have had no problems climbing it. But it was one of those nice, tall wooden fences. There weren't any gaps for Harry to squeeze through or any footholds to help boost himself over the fence.

"We've got you now, Potty," Dudley wheezed.

Harry turned around to glare at the group of grinning boys. He hated it. He hated that Dudley was able to turn everyone against him. He hated that Aunt Petunia told his teachers he was a liar and a thief. It made Dudley's job easier because parents told their children to stay away from him. He hated that he was alone.

Harry was always alone. He never had anyone standing in his corner. Not at school, and certainly not at home. There was no one for him to talk to, no one to listen to him. His relatives hated him. When they weren't pretending he didn't exist he was being yelled at or forced to do chores that were far beyond his age.

Harry had had enough! He wished he could just get away it all. Away from the Dursleys, from Dudley and his goons, away from Privet Drive.

"You think you could get away from us? You're really in for it now," Dudley grinned, smacking his fist into his open palm like he'd seen from the hours he'd spent in front of the tellie.

Harry tried not to cringe away as they loomed closer. He clenched his fists and tried to picture something else. It helped to think of a better place while Dudley and his gang roughed him up.

His mind drifted to the story their teacher had read to them that day at story time. It had been about the rain forests in South America. The place had almost seemed magically with its colorful creatures, and beautiful plants. It was as close to magical place as Harry could imagine as anything to do with magic had been banned from the Dursley household for as long as Harry could remember.

Harry wanted to go there so badly. Anywhere had to have been better than here. A strange tingling started to form in his fingertips. If Harry had paid more attention to it he might have realized that the same tingling had happened just before his teacher's hair turned blue.

Dudley had finally reached him. The much larger boy raised his fist, and instinctively Harry's eyes closed. The picture of the rain forest was still in his head as he twisted away from Dudley to protect his head. Harry waited for several minutes for the blow to come. But it never did. Had Dudley over exerted himself and passed out? If he had Harry was sure one of his cronies would have stepped up to take his place.

Harry cautiously opened one eye. The other soon followed, and both were stretched wide as he took in his surroundings. In shock Harry reached under his glasses to rub at his eyes. The sight in front of him just couldn't have been real. It was impossible. But after several moments of just staring, and the scene in front of him not changing Harry began to accept that it just might be real.

Harry was standing in the middle of the rain forest. The actual real-life rain forest. He didn't know how and he didn't know why but he was there. It was just as beautiful as the pictures from the story. What Harry hadn't realized from the story was just how loud it was, or how warm it was. The sounds of birds and all sorts of other animals were ringing loudly through the tall, vine-covered trees. Harry quickly pulled off his knapsack so that he could shrug out of his jacket. The humid air was a lot different than the chilly air of autumn in England.

Harry was enthralled with his surroundings, and followed the paths of several beautiful butterflies. He laughed up at the monkeys chattering up in the treetops. It was the best day Harry had ever had. There was no one to yell at him, no one to chase him, and there were no reminders that he was unwelcome or unwanted. But soon the reality of the situation seemed to hit Harry. His stomach was beginning to rumble, and the hot air was making him really thirsty.

He knew the rainforest was a long way from Little Whinging, and Harry couldn't just stay in the forest forever. He was old enough to know that eventually he would something to eat and drink. He needed a place to sleep. There were a lot of beautiful animals in the rain forest but his teacher had also told them about the jaguars, and there were lots of poisonous animals here too.

Suddenly, Harry didn't feel as happy as he first did. It was actually scary being out here all on his own. What was he supposed to do now? Tears pricked at his eyes but he pushed them back. Crying like a baby wasn't going to solve anything. In school they had talked about if they were ever lost they should stay in one spot until someone found them. But the rain forest was huge, and no one was going to be looking for Harry here. If they were looking for him at all. The Dursleys would probably celebrate when they found out he was gone.

Harry decided he couldn't just sit around, and wait to be found. He needed to find civilization all on his own. With that in mind he picked a direction and started to walk. He hadn't been walking for that long before he came to a section of the forest where the trees had been cut down. Harry felt bad for the trees and all of the animals who had lost their homes but he was elated to see a truck sitting there. The truck was large with a covered back. It was running but there wasn't anyone inside. He decided to climb inside to wait for the driver to get back from wherever they'd gone.

He jumped up into the back by some crates. The crates had tools, and one even had some water bottles and some bags of crackers. Harry felt bad about taking something that didn't belong to him but he was really hungry and thirsty. There would be a way to pay them back once Harry explained the situation. With something in his stomach he settled down to wait for the driver.

Harry wondered how he had ended up in the rainforest in the first place. Strange things did sometimes happen around Harry. But he tried not to think about them. When strange things happened around Harry his relatives got really mad. The time he'd turned his teacher's hair blue he'd been locked in his cupboard for two weeks. He'd only been allowed out for school, meals, and to use the bathroom. It had happened before the first day of school as well. Aunt Petunia had tried to cut his hair to make it more presentable. But she'd done an awful job. She'd purposely hacked away his hair, and left it in an ugly cut. Harry had been so embarrassed. He'd wanted more than anything for his hair to grow back, and the next morning it had.

Harry had wanted to get away from Dudley and his gang. He'd wanted it before too. But Harry thought that today was different because he had actually managed to picture another place. He'd thought of going another place, and he'd gone. Did he have powers? Did Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon know, and that's why they didn't like him?

Harry didn't know for sure. He knew he was somehow responsible for bringing himself here but he didn't know how or if he would be able to do it again. He couldn't think about it any longer. It had been a long day. He'd been up to make breakfast, then there was the chase, and he'd been walking through the rain forest for what seemed like an eternity to a six year old. He was exhausted, and before long he was drifting off to sleep in the uncomfortable floor of the truck bed.

Harry didn't even wake up when the driver returned or when the truck started off down the muddy, bumpy road. He only woke up when he was roughly dragged from the truck by a very irate driver.

Harry squirmed in the grasp of the large man holding him up by the straps of his backpack. He was yelling in Harry's face in a language that Harry couldn't understand. It might have been Spanish. But he wasn't sure. They'd had Spanish classes during his first year of primary school but this year they had been taking French.

Harry glanced around the dark haired, sweaty man. They were in the middle of a town. Or Harry thought it was a town, it didn't look like any town that Harry had seen before. But considering he'd never been out of Surrey before that wasn't saying much. The buildings were cracked, and made of brown bricks. There were stands with different food set up everywhere on the dusty street. All sorts of unfamiliar people were going about their daily business. A few glanced over to where the man was yelling at Harry but for the most part they ignored them.

Harry was terrified. This place was utterly foreign. The language around him was strange to Harry's ears. The smells were wrong, the sights around him weren't right. This man was angry if the vein pulsing in his forehead was anything to go by. The pulsing vein never meant anything good when it happened to Uncle Vernon.

Harry wished someone would help him.

And for once, someone did.

Bruce Banner rubbed the back of his neck as he walked out of the canning factory. All those years of school to get his multiple degrees, and work in the field of research he'd always dreamed of were wasted. Instead he was in some small South American town working in a fruit-canning factory, toiling in the heat for hours on end to make ends meat.

Bruce shook off the bitter thoughts. He had no one to blame about his situation but himself. He'd known better than to get involved with gamma radiation research. The government had wanted to use it to make new super soldiers. Things certainly hadn't gone according to their plans, and things definitely hadn't gone according to Bruce's plans.

But there was nothing he could do. He'd tried everything he could think of to get rid of the Other Guy. Nothing worked. As long as the Other Guy was there, Bruce would have to stay in hiding. It just wasn't safe for him or more importantly for the world. He could only imagine the devastation that would be caused if someone actually managed to harness his strength. Besides when the Other Guy was attacked people undoubtedly ended up hurt, and Bruce was left picking up the pieces. He was doing a lot better with his transformations than he used to. It had nearly been six months since his last incident but the Other Guy was always there, just beneath his skin waiting to be released.

Bruce was looking forward to getting back to his small apartment. He'd gotten his hands on some new research material that he wanted to look over. He was stopped however by the sight of large man in work clothes holding tight to a little boy while yelling in his face.

Bruce should have just kept walking. It would have been the smart thing to do, for everyone. He couldn't be in stressful situations. He couldn't risk triggering an incident for something that didn't have anything to do with him. But it was a child, and Bruce was never very good at following his own advice. Besides the terrified look on the poor boy's face tugged at something inside Bruce. Unwanted memories from his childhood were ruthlessly shoved down.

He sighed, calling himself an idiot as he approached the man.

He caught on to what the man was saying to the boy.

"You think it's all right to stow away in other people's trucks, and steal their food?" the man demanded in Spanish.

The boy didn't say anything. The poor kid must have been too terrified to speak. Although, there was something off about the boy. He had a messy mop of wild black hair. His clothes were ratty, and too big for his body. No different than some of the other children running around the impoverished town. But then there were the large glasses perched on his small face. They were obviously secondhand but the glasses magnified his eyes, making it easy for Bruce to see the deep, emerald green eyes behind them. Green eyes weren't unheard of in this part of the world but it was very uncommon. The boy's skin was tan but it was more the shade of someone who spent a lot of time out in the sun, not the natural golden brown that was common in these parts.

Bruce shook it off and focused on approaching the man who was still yelling at the boy.

"Tell me where your parents are, boy. I want to have a talk with them," the man growled.

"Excuse me," Bruce interrupted the man.

He turned to glare at Bruce. The boy's green eyes locked with Bruce's own brown. The confusion written across his features gave Bruce a sudden flash of insight. He was almost certain that the boy didn't know a word of Spanish.

"Are you all right?" Bruce decided to test his theory.

"You speak English?" the boy asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

Bruce had the satisfaction of having his theory proven correct but was even more confused by the British accent. What was an unaccompanied British child doing in South America?

"Yes, I do," Bruce smiled at the boy.

The boy smiled back, and opened his mouth to say something. He was cut off by the man who still had a firm hold on him.

"Are you the boy's father?" the man demanded, drawing Bruce's attention back to him. He must not understand English.

Bruce decided to do something really stupid, "Yes, that's my son."

"You Americans, don't you teach your children better manners?" the man demanded eagerly.

"I'm really sorry, he got away from me. I'm just really glad you found him," Bruce smiled, hoping his easygoing tone would calm him down.

The man glared. "You should keep a better eye on your son."

"I know, and I'm really sorry. I can repay you for whatever he's taken," Bruce offered.

That piqued the man's interest. "I suppose that would be all right."

"How much?" Bruce sighed.

The man named an amount that was probably a great deal more than whatever the boy had actually taken. Either way Bruce pulled out the appropriate amount of cash and handed it over.

The man eagerly took the money, and only once he had it securely in his pocket did he release the boy. Bruce pulled the boy over to him, and awkwardly put his arm around him while offering a few more apologies to the man.

"Just try to keep a better eye on your kid, gringo," the Colombian advised as he climbed into the back of a large work truck.

"I will," Bruce waved.

Once the Colombian man was gone, Bruce turned his attention back to the boy.

"Is that man really gone?" the boy asked, glancing at him uncertainly.

"Yes," Bruce nodded.

"Is he coming back?" the boy wanted to know, shifting nervously on his feet.

"No, he's not," Bruce assured.

"Thanks for making him go away," the boy smiled up at him.

"I don't think you were in too much danger but you're welcome anyway," Bruce sent an awkward smile back.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"My name is Bruce," he introduced uncomfortably. "What's your name?"

"Harry," the boy replied timidly.

"How old are you, Harry?"

"Six," the boy drew himself up to his full height, which was about to Bruce's waist.

Bruce couldn't help but smile at the action.

"Where are your parents, Harry?" Bruce asked.

It was very concerning how Harry could have ended up here. His British accent made it obvious that he was a long way from home. He was also very young, and very alone. How he had ended up in the back of the truck of a tree cutter left Bruce stumped.

"They died when I was a baby," Harry stated.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. Where are your guardians? Who do you live with?" Bruce asked.

"I live with my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and my cousin Dudley. My aunt is my mum's sister. We live in Little Whinging, Surrey. My aunt and cousin are probably at home and I don't know what time it is so I don't know if my uncle is back from work yet," Harry explained.

"Okay… why are they there and you're here? How did you get here, Harry?" Bruce frowned in confusion.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, a frown creasing his small brow.

"You don't know how you ended up on the other side of the world?" Bruce wanted to clarify.

Harry nodded, looking more than a little lost. "Where exactly am I, sir?"

"You're in Colombia," Bruce answered, feeling a little lost himself.

What was he supposed to do with a six-year-old British boy who was inexplicably in Colombia? Was he kidnapped, and he'd blocked out the traumatic experience? No, his condition was too pristine. Harry looked like he'd been walking home from school, and somehow just stumbled into the rainforest.

Either way Bruce would have to find some way to drop Harry off at the American Embassy without being seen. He felt responsible for the little boy, and knew that he couldn't just leave a confused child in the middle of a foreign country without any aid. He needed to get him somewhere safe. Hopefully the embassy could get him back to his family.

"Oh, is that very far from England, sir?" Harry asked.

"It's a little…far. Are you sure you don't remember how you got here, Harry? How long have you been here?" Bruce asked.

"I really don't remember. I was coming home from school. My cousin and his friends were chasing me, and suddenly I was in the rainforest," Harry blurted out.

Bruce felt bad for Harry. He knew what it was like to be the outcast. He'd been one all is life. During his childhood, Bruce's home life hadn't been the best. Coupled with being so much smarter than his peers had caused him to be the preferred target for most of his classmates. Even in college he'd been so far beyond his peers that he'd been looked at with envy and scorn. Now, he was a hunted man because of what was hiding just beneath his skin. He couldn't afford trying to get close to other people.

Bruce focused back on the second part of what Harry had said. He looked truly perplexed about what had happened to him.

"Did anything happen before that? Was there anything strange objects around you or any strange people?" Bruce insisted.

Could there have been someone testing out a new teleportation device? Or maybe it was someone with an ability? It wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibilities these days. Bruce had learned quite a bit about the more secretive side of the world since his own accident, and he knew that there was a lot more out than what the general public knew.

Harry's eyes flickered to his own before immediately glancing away. He twisted his fingers in the holes of too large shirt. Bruce knew there was more to the story that Harry wasn't telling him.

"It's okay, Harry, you can tell me," Bruce assured.

This chapter isn't finished but I sort of lost interest in this story

There would also be more chapters between the first one and the following one.

Chapter ?: A Matter of Blood

Bruce and Harry had been living in their new home for about month when they got a knock on their door.

Bruce thought it was maybe their new neighbor, an elderly woman who was constantly asking Bruce to fix her TV so she could watch her soaps. Senora Morella really needed a new TV all together. It was held together with more duct tape and chewing gum than any wiring. But she was a nice old woman without any family. She minded her own business, and only expected Bruce to fix the things in her home when they broke, something Bruce was more than capable of doing.

Harry rushed to answer the door. He liked old Senora Morella because she brought Harry homemade candy every time she visited. The old Chilean woman loved Harry too, and Bruce suspected that she was breaking her own things in order to have a reason to come over.

So it came as a surprise to Bruce when, after answering the door, Harry didn't immediately come waltzing back in to their living room to gorge himself on sweets. Instead he could hear Harry speaking to someone with a voice that was far too soft and smooth to be Senora Morella's. Frowning Bruce made his way towards their front door. He found Harry standing in the hallway with a pretty young woman. She wore her long black hair in a braid wrapped around her head. She had smooth copper skin, and dark brown eyes. Strangely enough she was wearing deep purple robes embroidered with golden thread. Despite the strange clothes there was a very official air to her.

"Dad, this is Talisa, she works for the Magical and Muggle Child Relation Services. She says I'm magic, dad. That's what I've been able to do all this time, and she's magic too," Harry exclaimed, excitement clear in his clear green eyes.

"Harry… what have I told you about strangers?" Bruce glanced warily at the woman standing in their home.

"I assure you, senor, that I'm just here to help you and your son," Talisa assured, her manner was so professional despite what she was claiming.

"She's like me, dad. She can do what I can do. Show him what you showed me," Harry encouraged eagerly.

"Harry," Bruce warned, still very much ill at ease to have some stranger in their new house talking about magic, and filling Harry's head with wild ideas.

"I understand your concerns, senor. As it is my job to introduce non-magical parents of magical children to the magical world I'm often met with quite a lot of skepticism. I have no problem at all in showing you."

Bruce tensed as she removed a long, smooth wooden stick from her pocket. She glanced around the room, and then with a quick flick of her wrist and a whispered word the potted plant beside the door turned into a turtle. His mouth dropped open as the turtle butted up against his foot, and proceeded to keep lumbering along as if it hadn't just been a plant.

"Isn't it incredible?" Harry grinned excitedly.

Bruce felt like he might need to sit down. Turning a potted plant into a living-breathing creature definitely defied the laws of physics.

"Can we keep him?" Harry asked of Talisa as he swept up the turtle.

"I'm afraid he's not indigenous to this part of the world. I'm going to have to return him to his original state," Talisa smiled at Harry.

With another wave of her polished stick the turtle in Harry's hands turned back into a potted plant. Harry pouted but returned the plant to its original place.

"Perhaps we ought to sit down, and have this conversation in a more comfortable location?" Talisa offered.

"Yeah, okay," Bruce nodded.

Harry bounded into the living room. Talisa followed behind him, and Bruce trailed after both of them. His mind was trying to wrap itself around what he had just witnessed. He'd seen Harry do all kinds of different things before. But nothing that couldn't be explained away by science. It was another thing to have his abilities labeled as magic, and witness someone using an honest to god wand to do it.

They settled into the living room. Bruce and Harry sat on the couch while Talisa settled herself in a chair across from them.

"Allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Talisa Ruiz. As Harry explained I work with the Magical and Muggle Child Relation Services for the Magical Mayan Empire. I know this is Harry. What is your name, senor?" she asked politely.

"Um… my name is Bruce. Bruce Banner," Bruce offered, completely forgetting he was supposed to be giving a false name.

"Dr. Bruce Banner," Harry corrected.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both," Talisa smiled, luckily there was absolutely no recognition of Bruce's name.

"Yeah, you too. Um, so when you say magical, you mean…?" Bruce frowned.

"I mean that I belong to a community of people who are gifted with incredible powers more commonly known as magic. Harry is a part of that community and that is why I am here," she explained.

"How do you know Harry is a part of this community of yours?" Bruce wanted to know.

"I know this must come as quite a shock to both of you. It's not something that is easy to accept," she murmured. "But I'm also sure that there have been many signs. I'm sure Harry has done things, unexplainable things, when he's upset or even really happy or when he wanted something? Objects moving or changing color?" she prodded.

"Yes," said Harry.

Bruce just nodded.

"It is because you are a wizard, Harry," she explained gently.

Harry looked both excited and nervous.

"A wizard?" Bruce laughed.

All of this time thinking that Harry was a mutant or someone had experimented on him, and he was supposed to be some sort of wand waving wizard?

"Yes, a wizard and I am a witch. Males are wizards and females are witches. There are communities of witches and wizards throughout the world. We are a race of people just like any other. We have our own culture and governments. We just keep to ourselves, and remain hidden from the non-magical world. However, it is not uncommon for a child with magical abilities to be born to two non-magical parents, and that's where my job comes in. Introducing non-magical parents to the magical world is confusing, and challenging," she began pulling a few books out of her bag.

The titles were in Spanish but he was able to read them. One was The History of Magic while another was Welcome to the Wizarding World.

"Magic? Really?" Bruce wasn't quite ready to believe that magic was what Harry could do.

She chuckled. "You are a man who likes logic aren't you?"

"I'm a scientist," Bruce shrugged apologetically.

She nodded. "I understand, but perhaps as a scientist you will be able to better grasp the situation. Don't think of magic in the terms of spell books and wands."

Bruce glanced sardonically down at the polished wooden stick on the coffee table.

"Yes, they do play a part in all of it. But for the moment just think of magic as being a genetic ability to manipulate energy. Over the years witches and wizards have evolved this ability to make it easier for them to use. Just like people are always developing new technology. For example we created wands to better concentrate and direct our power. Our spells give our magic focus and purpose to tell it what it needs to do. As you have probably seen Harry's magic is often sporadic and doesn't always accomplish what he might desire it too."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered, no doubt remembering the many incidents that have happened over the years. The tai chi had helped focus Bruce's, and Harry's abilities but there were still times when he tried to use his abilities and things didn't end up like he'd planned.

Talisa's words were so logical. In a way it made so much sense. Why couldn't magic be a genetic ability not unlike the X-gene? Maybe it was just the way that it had been portrayed in movies and storybooks that made it seem so childish.

"How did you know about Harry?" Bruce wanted to know.

It was a little concerning that they had been able to track them down to their home.

"Most magical governments have traces over populated areas to catch the use of magic by minors. Firstly it is for the purpose of making sure non-magical people don't see someone performing magic, and secondly we like finding children from non-magical families young. It makes it easier to explain what's happening to them. We value our secrecy above all else. After all there have been many instances where magical people have been persecuted when we were discovered," she informed him solemnly.

"Right, I can understand your desire to remain hidden. There are people out there who would do anything to get their hands on that type of power," Bruce nodded. He could relate only too well.

"Yes, exactly. That's why I do what I do. I want to help magical children and their parents transition to the magical world. I want to help them understand their magic, and that it is a normal occurrence. It's important to ensure their parents accept them," she insisted.

Bruce's thoughts drifted to Harry's relatives. They certainly hadn't accepted him. The thoughts of Harry's relatives, no matter how unpleasant, had Bruce considering the possibility that they might have known that Harry was a wizard. Bruce wondered if that information would be relevant for her to know.

Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Do you think they knew? Do you think the Dursleys knew about me?" Harry whispered.

"I don't know, Harry," Bruce murmured.

"You believe you know someone who knows about the magical world?" Talisa questioned.

"My relatives. I used to live with relatives in England," Harry explained.

"I'm not Harry's biological father," Bruce added.

"Oh, I see. Do you know if Harry's biological parents are wizards?" Talisa questioned.

"My parents died when I was baby. My mum's sister didn't have magic. In fact she hated it. We weren't allowed to say the word in the house," Harry admitted.

Talisa scowled. "They don't sound very pleasant."

"They weren't," Harry assured. "That's why I'm glad I found my dad."

The smile Harry sent him caused a warmth to spread through him. There was a spike of happiness from the Other Guy as well. At least he knew he was doing something right with his life.

"It looks like a good match," Talisa agreed.

"I haven't actually, officially adopted, Harry," Bruce admitted.

He figured it was better to be honest up front rather than have her find out later.

"I see," she murmured, frowning.

"Is that a problem?" Bruce questioned.

"I can look into Harry's background for you, and set up a formal adoption that will be recognized in the wizarding world and non-magical world," she offered.

"That would be great," Bruce nodded, feeling a hint of relief.

He would like to have some official claim on Harry in the event that someone ever did try to take him away. Even though the thought of someone looking into his past was more than a little terrifying.

"Right, so tell us a bit more about the wizarding world," Bruce requested.

She beamed happily at him and proceeded to tell them all about the magical world hiding right alongside their own. Bruce was shocked to learn all about the magical creatures out there. Wizards and witches worked to preserve and protect this creatures from humans, and to protect humans from them. There were also all sorts of different magical plants and potions. Talisa promised to get him a book on potion ingredients and potions.

She informed the two of them about a local magical market they could go to, to purchase more books and get in touch with the magical community. Wizarding school didn't start until a child turns eleven. There were several good schools in South America. The wizarding population was much smaller than the non-magical one. The countries were also spilt up much differently than the countries known to the non-magical world. There were three main governments, which had broken up Central and South America. There was the Magical Mayan Empire, the South American Wizarding Government, and the Wizarding Aztec Association.

Bruce and Harry had just moved in to the Magical Mayan Empire. They were a little more hands on with their muggleborn population than the other two countries. They had an entire organization devoted to introducing and helping muggleborn children acclimate to the wizarding world.

There was an International Confederation of Wizards made up of representatives from the different wizarding governments who made up laws that all wizards and witches were expected to follow throughout the world. The most important law was International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and breaking this law was normally dealt with very harshly. Only immediate family members or spouses were allowed to know about the wizarding world. The International Office of Magical Laws oversaw that this law, and all the laws created by the ICW were enforced.

Talisa talked with them for the entire afternoon. Harry was thoroughly enamored with knowledge of the wizarding world. He asked Talisa endless questions, and insisted that Bruce and he go visit this magical market as soon as possible. When it was nearing lunch time Talisa promised to return next week with information about Harry's past, and how to begin the initial process of adopting Harry. She also promised that she would personally take them on a trip to the wizard market.

Once she was gone Bruce began to make dinner. Harry sat at their small kitchen table to start leafing through the books Talisa had left for them.

"Dad, are you all right with me being a wizard?" Harry asked suddenly.

Bruce quirked a smile, "Harry, I've always been all right with your powers. Why would that change now?"

"Now it has a name. It's magic, what I can do. Doesn't that change it?" Harry questioned worriedly.

Even after two years, Harry's insecurity left over from his time with his relatives still reared its ugly head.

Bruce walked over to Harry's side. He crouched down in front of him so that Harry was forced to look directly at him. There wouldn't be any way to avoid him.

"Harry, I love you. I don't care if you're a wizard or a llama."

That earned him a little smile.

"You're my son, Harry. I don't need blood or a piece of paper to tell me something that I know with my heart and soul. Even the Other Guy knows that. You're our son, and I'm afraid to say that you're just stuck with me. Got it?" Bruce moved to tickle his sides.

He was instantly rewarded by loud peals of laughter from Harry. After a few moments of tickling Bruce let go. He kept his hands on Harry's shoulders but he leaned back a bit.

"Are you nervous about learning about your biological parents?" Bruce asked.

Harry shrugged, glancing away. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always said they were no good."

"I think its safe to say whatever your aunt and uncle told you was a lie," Bruce told him.

The Dursleys were one of the rare few who Bruce wouldn't have minded setting the Other Guy loose on. The Hulk grumbled in agreement in the back of his head.

"Do you think we can buy a flying broomstick?" Harry asked, grinning slyly up at him.

Bruce was glad for the change of subject.

"We'll see, it depends on how fast they go," Bruce answered.

"Ahh, dad," Harry cried.

Bruce laughed and ruffled his already messy hair.

"Come help me with dinner," Bruce waved him towards the counter where he could stir the mac and cheese.

For the next week Harry was a ball of energy. Bruce was barely able to contain Harry's excitement as the day drew closer and closer to their trip. Bruce had read through both of the books that Talisa had left for them. After a week of letting the information sink into his brain he was beginning to truly accept that the magical world existed. He wasn't exactly thrilled about calling it magic but without a better word to describe he decided he better just get used to calling it that. Besides that was the term that the entire wizarding world used, and if Harry was going to be a part of the wizarding world than Bruce was going to have to familiarize himself with it to ensure that Harry was safe in it.