Title: True Identities

Author: Gia

E-Mail: divinechild18@hotmail.com

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: None

Time: 5th Year

Summary: One dinner with his Sirius in the Leaky Cauldron changes Harry's life forever. A man, desperate from the loss of his own son, insists that Harry Potter is his son. What will Harry's friends do to get Harry back? And will Harry be able to handle the truth?

Disclaimer: I own not a thing.

Author Notes: Me back! ^_^ There's going to be more stuff with Harry/Edward and his parents. There's nothing remotely interesting to say, since I appear to be in yet another cynical mood. Woe worth this cruel hap that I must taste this misery.. -_-.. Ah, an in a poetic mood too. Lovely.

Anyway, my thoughts on the story so far. I'm going to tone down a bit, Harry's distrust of them, so as not to create Mark-Haters out there, since that wouldn't be too good. ^_^ But I'm not going too easy on it. Harry will talk to them and vice versa, but there isn't going to be any trust factor in this. That's going to be earned. The hard way.. Hahahaha..

Also, you might find little Edward (you'll know what I mean when you see it), to be a little morbid, but he just didn't act well to his parents always going on trips. You'll know what I mean when you reach that part! ^_^

***

"You see," he asked bitterly, "She isn't my mother. And you? You're going to claim to be my father? My father wouldn't do such a thing, and he's more noble than you can hope to be."

Those words hit Mark like a ton of bricks. Playing over and over in his head, while his inner self kept yelling that he was his father, and that he wouldn't do such a thing. But I did.. He thought sadly. I hit my own son.. I'm no father.. Wordlessly, Mark backed up, and left the room, leaving his wife staring after him and his only son not even bothering to watch him leave.

Grace was torn between running after her husband, and staying here with Edward. It was a tough choice, but Grace felt it would serve them good if she chose to stay with her son. Maybe this way, she could try and get him to trust her before explaining anything else dealing with their relations. She turned her head to face Harry's, and inwardly winced at the blank expression on his face. "Aren't you going to go after him?"

"I.." she sighed deeply, "It's best to leave him alone. Besides," she gave what she hoped was a friendly smile, "I wouldn't want to leave you here alone, now would I?"

"Of course, we wouldn't want the captive to be left to escape. Best to guard him." he replied bitterly. He turned his head. "I know how the whole kidnapping thing works, no need to cover it up with lies." His mind's eye brought him to the events of the TriWizard Tournament.

Grace turned to him sharply, wondering what he meant by that. She couldn't meet eyes with Harry as he turned his head, and instinctively knew it wasn't going to be very easy getting him to talk, much less trust her. She pulled out her wand, feeling Harry tense at the action, but all she did was conjure a chair for herself. Seating herself, she turned to him and spoke as gently as she could.

"Harry.. I'm not going to pretend this is easy for you. I want to apologize for my husband's actions, but he.. We needed to talk to you. It doesn't make any sense, I know, but if you'd just listen to us. At the very least don't treat us like we're here to kill you." He turned to her, expression still blank but he was listening. "I think it would be best for all of us, if we explain bit by bit. Would you just.. Give us a chance?"

Harry stared into her warm eyes, and he was hit again by sudden familiarity. Not only from her actions and expressions, but it reminded him of Remus, during the Shrieking Shack incident. When he kept stating that needed to know the truth, needed the chance to tell the truth, about how Sirius was innocent. It was a similar situation now, excluding the kidnapping factor of course. It was so crazy that-- it was actually believable. But still.. He searched Grace's eyes, checking to see if there were any ulterior motives to this. Seeing no hint, Harry decided that he would at least listen to what they had to say. They weren't going to tell him the true reason they brought him here, Harry knew that for sure, but obviously they were going to be cautious about going about with telling him. Whatever it was, it had to be something deep. So deep, that it caused a man to become desperate enough to kidnap him for no apparent reason.

"I guess.. I will hear you out. But, I don't trust you, or him at all. And if I see anything that even deals with Voldemort, I'm going to use any chance I get to escape."

Grace nodded solemnly, proud at how Harry handled it. She would've been worried if he had trusted so quickly, even if it would benefit her and her husband. Clearing her throat, "Well, the first step I believe will be introductions. My name is Grace Blake, and my husband Mark." She held out her hand, feeling odd at shaking hands with her son.

Harry reached for her hand, and shook it, "Harry Potter. But I'm sure you already know that." He cracked a grin.

Grace laughed lightly, glad at seeing Harry become more amiable, but still, she could detect a sense of wariness underlying Harry's grin. She silently vowed to get her son back, and hoped it would be soon. When they let go, Grace took the initiative to undo the charm that locked Harry's legs together. "I know this is all terribly awkward Harry, but are you hungry at all? I could bring out something, while I get the room ready."

Harry stood up, glancing at her oddly. "Room?"

Realizing that might be understood the wrong way, she hurriedly explained that they had a guest room for him to stay at. He relaxed slightly, and admitted that he hadn't anything to eat. She reached out to touch him on the shoulder, to steer him to the kitchen, but stopped as she saw Harry flinch from the contact. Well, it wouldn't be that easy to gain his trust, even though it still hurt. She strode ahead of him into the kitchen, pulling out and warming lasagna for him. Harry quietly took a seat at the table, watching her as she walked around the kitchen.

Grace was reminded about how Edward used to watch her and Mark silently, as they walked around the room. His green eyes memorizing their movements. It made her regret all those times her and Mark had to leave Edward in the Potters' care while they left for important business. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she set down a glass of coke beside the plate of lasagna.

Just then, Mark walked in, looking very worn out. His eyes widened considerably at the sight in front of him, but he sent a smile in Grace's direction. Rubbing the back of his neck uneasily, Mark approached the kitchen table and stood across from Harry. "I'm sorry about what.. I did earlier. It was completely uncalled for, and I was a complete ass about it." he paused, gauging Harry's expression. Or trying to, since Harry gazed back passively. "I'd like for us to start over, and.. Er.."

He looked at his wife, silently pleading for help in this, but she nodded at him encouragingly for him to continue. "I hope you'll be able to forgive me in time."

Silence.

"I.. I'm willing to give you a chance. You haven't exactly been truthful with me about what's been going on." Harry let his hard gaze soften a bit. "But I'm willing to try."

Mark felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, nothing this as a small step to gaining his son. A small sniffle was heard in the back, but Grace quickly regained her composure from what had recently occurred. She clapped her hands together, "Well, you go ahead and eat Harry. Mark and I will get your room ready."

Silently, they left the kitchen, and took their time in walking up the stairs.

"That partially made up for what you did back there Mark. But I'm still proud of you." she squeezed his hand.

He gave a small smile. "I don't know what came over me, it was just.. The way he was talking, I just wanted our family back together. All those years ago, where I never participated in his childhood life. I regret it.."

"So do I Mark, we were always too busy, or too tired. I'd always thought to myself, that if I ever had a chance to go back in time, it was to spend more time with my only son. We've got that second chance now, and we have to make up for it. But," she started grimly, "We'll have to take it slow. I only hope we have enough time, because Har.. Edward's friends will be out looking for him."

She stumbled over the name, still not used to saying her son's name out loud when it was easier saying it in her head. Mark mumbled his acknowledgement of the problem, but the two lapsed into silence when they headed to the guest room. There was really nothing to tidy up, but Grace just wanted to make the room to give off a cozy feeling for her son. Besides, couldn't a mother dote on her son after 15 years?

After fifteen minutes of aimlessly cleaning up and rearranging the room, they headed down to see if Harry was finished eating. They were pleasantly surprised to see the plate and glass neatly put away after being washed, and the lasagna covered. Harry himself had his arms cross on the table, with his head lying on it. His wand, which Harry must've brought with him, lay a few inches from Harry's arms. Grace crossed the kitchen, and gazed tenderly at Harry's sleeping face.

She slipped off his glasses gently, as her husband came around, lifting Harry up gently. Harry's visage didn't account for your average fifteen year old, since he looked far too young due to his slight frame. They reached Harry's room quickly, Grace laying Harry's wand and glasses on the bedside table, while Mark spelled Harry's clothes into green pajamas. With the tenderness only a mother could have for her child, she tucked Harry in, kissing him softly on the forehead.

It was almost surreal about how perfect everything seemed in this, but it was not so. The complete opposite really. But for now, the two would bask in the simplicity of these small actions, and hope for the best. Quietly closing the door to the room, the two left and headed to their room. They changed and got in the bed silently, still thinking about today's events. Grace turned and hugged her husband, snuggling into his safe warmth. Again, it felt all too perfect for her, and Grace dreaded the day that reality would take from her this second chance with her son.

Soon, both fell asleep in each other's arms. Around one or so, Mark was suddenly overcome with a dream about Edward.

Mark's Dream/Memory

"We've got about twenty minutes left to spare, James. We can't thank you enough about taking care of Edward while we're gone."

James grinned, shaking his head. "It's no problem at all. Harry adores Edward, the two are the best playmates. Why don't you go see Edward again before you leave. Grace and Lily are upstairs with them now. So, Lily told me that you're both riding on those muggle contraptions."

"You mean airplane, James." Mark replied amused.

"Yes, yes, airplane. Are you really?"

"Oh yes, it's really quite nice. Edward seemed fascinated with the toy airplane I spelled to fly around the room."

The two men climbed the stairs. James cleared his throat awkwardly, "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"With all these trips you and your wife are doing, don't you think Edward won't take it well?"

"Edward's mature for his age. I've already explained it to him."

James gave a weak smile. "I guess."

The two finally arrived in the play room, to see Grace and Lily sitting on the chairs lined against the wall, chatting happily with each other. Harry and Edward were on the floor, coloring. When Harry noticed his father, he immediately leapt up, and waved his picture in the air. "Lookie! I drew prongs!"

James chuckled, walking over to Harry. He gently took the picture, and stared at it with mock concentration. "So it is, Harry! You've got a talent with drawing, you do."

Harry grinned proudly. Edward stood up slowly, his picture clutched in his hand tightly, as he stared at Harry and his father. Seeing this, Mark quickly walked up, a big grin on his face. "Edward! You drew a picture too, didn't you?" He approached, picking Edward up swiftly, causing Edward to squeal delightedly. When Edward turned his head to Mark, his ever-green eyes held a solemn look. "D'you have at go on the a'plane?"

Mark gave a reassuring smile. "Yes, Edward, but we won't be long. When we get back, I promise to take you out someplace special. Okay?"

Edward nodded slowly. "Now, will you show daddy your picture?"

Mutely, Edward held up his paper. Mark scanned the picture, and nervously cleared his throat. "Er.. It's nice Edward."

Hearing this, Grace stood up, and walked towards them both, smiling. "Can I see Edward? Go ahead and point out what you drew." Mark resisted the urge to tell her not to, but inwardly sighed when Harry pointed out the picture.

It was really a nicely drawn picture, well, nicely drawn as far as a one-year old's drawing goes. It showed a white airplane, with a blue and red stripe along it. But the end of it was on fire, and there were stick people in the air with something akin to parachutes, which Mark remembered telling Edward about.

Edward pointed to the burning plane, "This ish the plane you aw riding."

He pointed to the first stick figure with a parachute, "That's the driver." He pointed to the next stick figure. "That's a passenger." And bringing his finger down to the bottom of the page, he pointed to two sticks in the ocean. "That's you and mum."

Grace seemed lost for words. Mark looked over Harry's shoulder, seeing James look apologetically at him. This is probably what he meant.. Mark thought. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Where's our parachutes Harry?"

"No more."

Mark gave an uneasy laugh, folding up the paper, telling Edward he'd keep it.

The dream faded out from Mark's vision, as he twisted on the bed. That was the last trip they had, before they found out their son had 'died'. It haunted Mark ever since. Edward hadn't acted positively to their frequent trips, and obviously James and Lily had noticed it, and encouraged Edward's friendship with their son, so he wouldn't' be so sad. The drawing was just showing how Edward hadn't wanted them to leave.

He shivered, but felt his wife's arms encircle him, holding him. Nonsense dreams followed, and no more did Mark dream of Edward.

***

Sunlight streamed through the light curtains, falling upon Harry's sleeping face. His face scrunched up, and he turned away from the light. Unfortunately, this action caused him to fall off the bed, effectively waking him up. Groaning, he sat up, one hand resting atop the bed. He yawned and cracked an eye open. At first look, Harry didn't recognize the surroundings, belatedly wondering if he was visiting Hermione's house, until last night's events hit him.

He sat up quickly, stifling a yawn as he surveyed the room. It had light green paint on the walls, and two white bookshelves on either side. The small brown bedside table held his wand and his glasses. Everything was neat and it looked as if it hadn't been bothered except for cleaning. It felt weird to Harry, since his kidnappers gave him food and a place to sleep, a comfortable one at that. Then again, they had a reason for all this.

On one hand, Harry felt he could leave right now. He had his wand, there were no guards or anything keeping him here from what he could tell, so why doesn't he just get up and leave? Because of the very people who brought him here. They seem genuine about getting Harry to.. What? Talk to them? Trust them? Thinking to deeply into this made Harry's head hurt, he just wasn't a morning person. He'd just wing it, and see what the deal was with him being here if it had nothing whatsoever to deal with Voldemort.

Harry stood up, suddenly conscious of the sounds coming from downstairs. Upon opening the door to his room, he was assaulted with the aroma of food. He immediately headed down the stairs, and stood frozen in the kitchen doorway. Mark and Grace were whipping up a storm. Pans on the stove, pancakes, bread, cream, an all out breakfast buffet. It was appeared too familiar to Harry, something which still confused him to no end. It wasn't anything like morning at the Dursleys, so it couldn't be because of that.

It didn't remind him of the Weasleys, because it was usually more hectic. No, this reminded him of something long ago, something he couldn't quite grasp. He cleared his throat to alert them of his presence. Grace turned and gave a bright smile, something which Harry returned half-heartily, unsure how to respond to this sudden behavior. Mark looked up from his coffee, and gave grin. A grin that fathers share with their sons when they're sharing the same thought about something. It gave Harry a pleasant sensation, but he squashed it down.

"Please, Ed-- er.. Harry, sit down and eat. Grace made her specialties." Mark quickly corrected his mistake when Grace turned to him sharply. Harry either didn't notice it or made no move to react to it, because he sat down and gingerly helped himself to the food. Mark glanced at Harry through the corner of his eye, and the meal continued in silence.

***

It was the start of a regular morning in the Great Hall. Food was eaten heartily by students, and chatter was loud and carefree. The only occurrence were the faint whispers from the Gryffindor table. It was not unlikely that Harry's absence would go unnoticed. It started with a casual look around the table, before noticing the empty spot between Ron and Hermione.

A nudge to the shoulder, and a second person would be alerted to this. A fellow Gryffindor would try catching Hermione or Ron's eye, but they would remain oblivious to that person. It wouldn't be long before someone would come and voice aloud the question that was no running through the Gryffindor's heads.

Where's Harry?

The first to ask: Seamus Finnegan.

"Hold on here, Ron? Hermione? D'you have a fall out with him, or something? Where is he?"

Hermione and Ron's eyes met for the briefest moments. No one had noticed.

"Harry had to go to the Dursleys'." Ron spoke up, lying smoothly. Seamus had an expression that clearly said he didn't believe him. Perhaps by coincidence, Professor McGonagall stood up to make her announcement.

As soon as she sat down, the hall erupted in murmurs. Instantly, everyone was talking about a 'conspiracy'. Hermione's jaw tightened when she noticed a few Slytherins looking over at their table. Did they look smug to her? Or had her imagination gotten the best of her?

She put on an easy smile, along with Ron, and they started their task at reassuring to everyone that Harry was safe. Harry was fine.

When, in fact, Harry was gone.

***

"Remarkable, simply remarkable. There is no reason as to how it was even possible, but that is beside the point. Harry Potter was never the survivor. Edward Blake."

There were sounds of flipping pages and a book slammed shut.

"Regardless. No one must know. Save for the boy himself. But.. There are too many loose ends needed to be taken care of. How will they react to the news?" A deep sigh.

"It must be done. They will have to accept. But there is no way around this. I only hope that Edward will understand without all the answers."

There was the sound of distant footsteps, and a door being shut.

***

Harry.. Er.. Edward hasn't accepted them to be trusting.. Yet.. But just for now, he's going to speak… when he feels like it. Moving on, I hope you like the story so far!

Did I mention I appreciate and adore reviews? ^_^

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