Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...

Author's Note: This is a slight crossover with Sharon Green's book series "The Blending", but you don't, by any means, need to read it to understand. I won't be making reference to anything in those book, I'm simply borrowing the concept.

I hope everyone enjoys this and would appreciate reviews... Good or bad. (Please be constructive in criticism. I can't improve if I don't know what's wrong.)

Rated "R" for child abuse.

Blended Water

Chapter One: Water's Gift

I wonder sometimes about pain. I really don't understand it that well. One would think that being beaten savagely once would be painful, but being beaten savagely a second time before those wounds could heal would be worse. It is not so for me.

Yesterday afternoon I received the first beating, it wasn't the first time my uncle had ever struck me, but it was the first time I would classify the offense as a beating. It was harsh, and it was not over even after I lost consciousness. When I woke up I was still lying on the floor of my bedroom but the sun was just peaking in my window. Dried blood caked my eyelids and my eyelashes were stuck together but when they were finally open my clock told me it was just nearly seven in the morning. I was badly injured. Pretty seriously I would guess.

I didn't move, I was afraid of injuring myself further.

It was about nine when my uncle came back for another go. I know this beating was worse. I watched with a detached horror and fascination as he took a kitchen knife to the tender flesh of my abdomen. But I felt nothing. No pain. I was numb, and cold, very cold.

It was about an hour later that my aunt and cousin came home. They had been away on a weekend trip. My aunt took one look at me and let out a horrible shriek. She was angry at Vernon, convinced he would bring my freak friends down on them all. I hoped so.

She decided she would clean me up. Treat the wounds as well as she could. She drew a bath, cold water, and had my uncle toss me in, cloths and all.

That's where I find myself now. Surrounded by the hazy comfort of water. The water was cold when I was tossed carelessly into it, but now it's warm, comfortable. I thought it would turn pink, or red when my blood mixed with it, but it hasn't, not yet. It's helping get rid of the numbness. That's worse than pain I think. I'd rather feel.

As the warm water runs over my wounded muscles and flesh I feel a sort of satisfying peace. It's smooth movements remind me of something I've forgotten, some tender touch that I have deprived of so far in my life. The water is still clean, untainted by my blood, yet I'm somehow clean too. I wonder if I used magic, accidentally or course, to clean the water. A sudden panic swells inside me and I want the water dirty. If the Dursley's think I was doing magic...

~

Tired blue eyes snapped suddenly, wide with surprise. Instantly awake, Vallant stood and walked to the window. The ocean beyond churned with unease and Vallant looked toward the sun.

"I have felt it, it is time." he smiled slightly, a sort of sad expression that made him look older than he was. He turned and left the room, navigating quickly through the large building until he stood on a precipice of stone over the water. He looked down at the violent waves that crashed against the base of the cliff and smiled widely before jumping off.

~

The sudden and unexpected loss of water had me gaping for a few disorienting moments as my uncle pulled me from the bath by the scruff of my neck. He feet dragged against the hardwood floors and water pooled beneath me as he held me there and looked me over as if I was some insect. He didn't notice the clean water at first, and he tossed me back in my bedroom first. The floor again. I wished he'd toss me on the bed. Wishful thinking.

A sudden yell from the hall had alerted me to the fact the my uncle had noticed the water. I hear a distant argument and know that my aunt is trying to placate him. It wont work, but perhaps I'll get a few seconds of peace.

He returns, enraged, and beats me again. I didn't realize the dirty knife he used on my abdomen was still in the room until he picked it up from where it lay next to me and held it before my eyes.

He called me a freak then I think, and some other choice insults. He told me I needed to be punished to burdening them. I felt the blade as he pushed it into the tender flesh of my forehead. I watched him, with my eyes open for a moment. The numbness took too long to set in that time...

~

Vallant grimaced as he lifted the fifteen year old boy off the floor after wrapping him in a blanket. Harry Potter was bleeding profusely from multiple cuts all over his body. The worst was a jagged cut that led from his hairline through his now mutilated left eye and down half his cheek. It was then that Harry's right hand caught his sight and he grimaced again. He looked around the floor for a moment but found no sign of the two missing fingers.

He shuddered visibly before a look of determination and concentration overtakes his features.

It would be the last time Harry Potter was ever seen at Number Four Privet Drive. In fact, it would be that last time Harry Potter was seen for a very long time.

~

The sound of the ocean was what first drew him from the gentle cocoon on unconsciousness. He realized, before opening his tired eyes, that he was definitely no longer at his Aunt and Uncle's. Other than the sound of nearby waves, the smell of the room indicated some sort of hospital area and the warmth of the blankets surrounding him was too comfortable to be anything the Dursley's would provide.

Opening his eyes he realized two very important things right off the bat. First was that he did not seem to need glasses to see properly, and second, that he could not in fact see properly.

He felt bile rise unbidden in his throat as he remembered in what state his uncle had rendered his left eye. And at that remembrance came the others, and he lifted his right hand and stared at the crisp white bandage covering the stumps that had once been his ring and pinky fingers with a morbid fascination.

He put his hand down resolutely and turned slightly to study the room. The walls were a cerulean blue with large windows and flowing white curtains. Infirmary beds lined both walls but were all empty. In fact, other than Harry there was only one other occupant of the room.

Turning his face completely to the right Harry studied, for a moment, the man who had fallen asleep in the chair beside his bed. He seemed to be in his mid to late thirties with black hair that shined blue in the light. The hair was short and well kept and the only sign of his earlier preoccupation with the five o'clock shadow that indicated he had been too busy to shave. His skin was tan, like he spent a great deal of time outdoors and his hands, which were folded neatly in his lap, were callused and weather warn. He wore a white long sleeve shirt and dark pants, and the crease in his brow showed his worry even in sleep.

Harry shifted slightly for a better look. With out understanding the situation Harry thought he'd be a little more nervous than he was but he seemed quite docile at the moment, and a strong pull toward the man beside him was also a mystery to him. It was as though he knew the man, but couldn't for the life of him think of where they could have met before.

As though conscious of the boy watching him the dark lashes of the man before him fluttered before opening to reveal clear indigo eyes. Instantly there gazes locked and Harry felt the pull grow stronger. The man before him lifted his cool hand to Harry's forehead, smoothing back the black locks as he felt for any indication of a temperature.

"How are you feeling young one?" his voice was deep and soothing, a sort of calm voice, like a pool of clear water.

Harry took a moment to try and answer. It was a loaded question, he knew that at least. "Better than I was."

The man's eyes saddened and filled with concern, as though he suddenly remembered exactly what the boy before him had been through.

"You're safe now young one, they will never hurt you again."

The admission from this complete stranger filled Harry with a calmness that was both unexpected and extremely welcome.

"Who are you, and where am I?" he asked after a moment.

The man smiled slightly. "My name is Vallant Lorand Astyan, though where you are is a little harder to explain." Vallant rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You're on a small island in the Atlantic ocean, though closer to the United States than to Europe. The Island is in the heart of what the world calls the 'Bermuda Triangle', or 'Devil's Triangle'." Harry's mouth formed an 'O' but he said nothing and Vallant continued. "This is a sort of training facility."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Training for what?"

Vallant seemed excited by the topic and leaned forward in his seat. "It's not trained for what, young one, it's trained in what." he cleared his throat mock importantly and Harry suppressed a chuckle. The man's easygoing demeanor could lighten the worst of moods. "Well, young one..." he stopped for a moment and looked at Harry as though remembering something. "I do apologize, but what is your name?"

Harry seemed taken aback by the request and for a moment did nothing. Then he straitened himself into a sitting position and extended his hand. "Harry James Potter." he replied.

Vallant smiled and shook his hand firmly. "Now, back to the explanation. Well... Harry do you believe in magic?"

Harry let out a snort of laughter. "Of course I do, I'm a wizard."

Vallant tilted his head to the side as though looking at Harry from the slightly altered angle would help him to figure something out. "Well that's odd." he said, more to himself than to Harry. He shook his head a moment to clear it and continued. "I'm not sure whether that will make this conversation easier or harder." He smiled brightly and raised a fist. "I will rise to the challenge!" he declared and Harry snorted with laughter again.

"Well," he continued, feigning indignance at Harry's snort, "back to the point." He held up his right hand, palm up and Harry watched intently as water appeared there, seemingly from nowhere, and swirled into a ball floating slightly above his palm. "I guess the wizard quarter of the world would call it elemental ability. I control water, and this place, trains other's with a similar gift to control it. This is the house of Aquarius, who was the first fourth level water practitioner, and he created this school at the peek of his power. He has since been transformed into legend, though his legend is not always very accurate. He is the Merlin on the water element." He paused for a moment and let Harry assimilate what he had said.

As Harry sat for a moment thinking Vallant glanced to the window across the row and closed his eyes, finding contentment for the first time in a long time. He turned back to the green eyed boy before him and continued. "This training facility has become quite exclusive over the last millennia and now only fourth level practitioners can set foot on it. To be completely honest with you, you and I are the only ones on this island right now, and I've been here for nearly four years without company." He shook his head and continued. "I assume you are wondering why you're here. Well, first of all you should have realized by my explanation so far that you are a forth level water practitioner, or you will be with a little training... In normal circumstances it's a member of the guild that collects potentials, that's what you are, and brings them to where they will be trained. Guild members have no elemental ability themselves, but can sense it in others. However, just before my birth a prophecy was foretold. It was about me, and another. I've never been told what the prophecy contained, the guild didn't deem it was necessary, so to this day I remain in the dark." Harry immediately sympathize with Vallant and gave him a small smile of encouragement. "What they did tell me was that I was to remain on this island and hone my skills until I felt the other was ready."

"The other?" Harry asked when Vallant seemed to drift off into thought.

He snapped back and smiled apologetically. "The other person named in the prophecy... you."