Harry really could not believe his eyes, it has been great a few years since he saw Peter, the last time they were together had been just before the Hale fire. All these years and Harry had thought him dead. He had mourned him, sad that a person who had such a huge impact on his life for the little time he was in it was gone forever.

"Why don't you come in, we can catch up" The previously thought to be dead man says as he opens the door wider and gestures him into the hotel room.

With Peter breaking his internal monologue Harry is shaken from his staring realising that everyone is waiting on his next move, but Harry couldn't move he was in shock. Here was this man, someone he had cared greatly for, that he believed to be dead for the last ten years just standing there, like it was an ordinary day. Like people who you believed dead just opened hotel doors all the time. Realising that he couldn't just stand outside the door forever, Harry forced one foot after the other until he brushed passed Peter and made his way into the hotel room, Stiles and Jackson following after him. He heard the door close and turned back to Peter (and what was it with Peters that everyone thought dead suddenly walking around like they weren't supposed to be?)

And continued his staring, Harry honestly could not think of anything else to do much less say.

"I suppose you have a lot of questions?" Peter asked with his signature smirk in place.

Harry let out a loud snort.

And just like the weird atmosphere that had fallen on them was broken.

"But first I'm guessing introductions are in order, Derek this is an old friend of mine and your mother, Harry Potter. Harry this is my nephew Derek"

Harry stuck his hand out to shake.

Derek just glared at him.

"Awkwaaaaarrdd" Stiles mumbled underneath his breath.

Peter turned to smirk at him. And suddenly Harry was afraid. Very very afraid.

"I'm guessing since you came with them that you are acquainted with Stiles and Jackson?"

In that moment Harry had never wanted to kill someone more in his life. Not even Voldemort.

"Stop being creepy Peter" Harry managed to say in reply over Stiles' spluttering and denials.

Peter just continued to smirk his smug little smirk.

"And just how are you acquainted with Stiles" Derek asked well more like demanded.

Harry honestly was surprised he even understood the question there were a lot more growls than actual words in that sentence. Before he could reply, Stiles cut across him. "I'm more interested in how exactly he is acquainted with Peter"

"Well that's a long story" Harry signed, and gestures for them all to sit down.

Beacon Hills, ten years previous.

Harry was bored out of his mind, he was currently walking around a town in California, Beacon Hills. He was also extremely lost and without out clue or idea of how to get back to the hotel where he and his relatives are staying.

His uncle Vernon who works for a drilling company called Grunnings had to unfortunately ( for both him and his relatives) bring him along on a business trip as his usual babysitter Mrs Fig was unavailable and his friends were currently not talking to him for some reason or other (Harry couldn't be bothered to figure out why) so he had no one to stay with whilst they were away.

And heaven forbid they leave him alone in the house with his freakish self. He might just burn the house down and not even have the decency to kill himself in process. How unforgivable of him. To say there was no love lost between him and his only living family he had left would be an understatement.

Harry looked up from the pavement to ask a passer-by for directions back to the hotel when he realised that his ruminating had taken him away from the town centre and now, he was even more lost. Just as he was about to turn back and retrace his steps a man came running out of nowhere (more like stumbling) and collapsed right in front of him.

Harry took a step back in surprise. He let out a shaky breath and moved closer to man to see if he was alright and it was at this moment that numerous things happen at once.

First the man shot up from the floor and proceeded to stare at Harry like he was the one that just came out of nowhere and collapsed. Second there was a sound of a shot going off and some yelling and shouts coming from the directions the man came out from. Thirdly Harry upon hearing yelling (which he heard quite clearly as "Hurry the freak of nature is getting away") took offence and immediately decided to help this man get away from whomever he was running from.

He really hates the word freak.

He moves closer to the mystery man and proceeds to grab the man under the armpits and heaves him up (Through the chores he's forced to do and Quidditch training Harry had built up quite a bit of muscle and strength). Harry is pretty sure whilst he was doing this, he hears growls and snarls coming from the man. Given that man is currently attempting to glare him to death, Harry thinks that isn't too far out of the reach of possibility. He slings the man's arm over his shoulder and proceeds to drag him along the street.

"What are you doing?"

In his shock at actually hearing the man speak, Harry almost drops him, as it is, he just readjusts his grip and holds on tighter to the man. Seeing his struggle, the man actually manages to get his feet to work and takes some of his weight off of Harry.

"I'm helping you" states Harry, baffled as he thought that was quite obvious.

"Yes, I can see that, but why?" The man manages to spit out through his pain. It's at this point that Harry realises that the man's other hand is clutched to his side and that he is bleeding. Probably from a bullet, Harry thinks to himself.

"You're hurt and people are chasing you"

The man smirks condescendingly at Harry like he thinks him to be naïve, a great number of things can be used to describe Harry but naïve has never been one of them.

"How do you know if I'm the good guy?"

Harry frowns to himself thinking back to the yelling he just heard, he really hates the word freak.

"In my experience, people who are carrying guns and yelling about freaks of nature are hardly ever the good guys"

The man stares startled at what Harry had just said.

"Still doesn't make me the good guy" The mystery man argues back. Harry shakes his head in disbelief anyone would believe that this guy didn't want his help.

"I really don't like the word freak."

Back to Present time.

"Wait he was the one that saved you from the hunters that day?" Derek exclaimed in shock.

But he's human, unlikely to be trained like the hunters were, Derek thought to himself also by the look of him he wasn't that much older than Derek, but then again Stiles is also human and untrained and has saved Derek from a lot of things not just hunters. So, he really shouldn't judge a book by its unassuming cover.

Peter just nods and states "He's stronger than he looks"

"Wait, Harry's a werewolf" Stiles bursts out.

Silence.

Peter chuckles.

Jackson facepalms.

Derek just looks done.

Harry let's out a snort and says "No, I'm not"

Derek looks if even possible 1000% more done then before.

"You're not surprised that Stiles thinks you're a werewolf; you already know about us" Jackson finally pipes up after being silent for the entire duration of the explanation.

Harry turns and looks at him and thinks to himself this one looks too pretty to be a werewolf.

"No and yes, I already knew about Peter and Derek but you? I didn't know about you"

Jackson looks confused.

"You said us, not just Derek and Peter you said us implying you were talking about more than just them"

The confusion on Jackson's face clears up. And he lets out a quiet "oh"

"Hey! What about me? I could be a werewolf" Exclaims an indignant Stiles. Everyone let's out a collective disbelieving snort.

"There's no way you're a werewolf, you're too clumsy" Harry replies. Stiles just let's out an offended huff and pouts to himself. Harry thinks it's quite cute, as if he could sense the direction of his thoughts (probably smelt the chemo-signals) Derek glares at him.

"Damn Stilinski, Harry has only known you day and already he knows you so well"

Harry smirks.

Derek continues to glare.

"Which brings us back to, how exactly are you acquainted with Stiles?"

Silence.

Harry has faced Voldemort, a thousand-year-old Basilisk, Dementors, dragons and god knows what else, Harry is not afraid of Derek Hale.

Yet his throat is suddenly dry, and he really really wants to run away.

He is definitely extremely afraid of Derek Hale.