Chapter Four

A smiling, bald man greeted them as they left the plane. Curiosity had Harry eyeing the yellow floating chair as the man spoke kindly, "Welcome, gentlemen, to Xavier's Institute for Gifted Students. I am Charles Xavier, the Founder. My companion," he politely indicated the sheepish looking, blue furred, large, teddy bear, "is Doctor Henry McCoy."

"You can call me Hank, many do." Hank tried to keep them at ease with a friendly smile, forgetting that his fangs were showing. He knew that many found him scary considering he was a walking beast with shaggy blue fur. "I was asked to tend to your wounds."

Harry and Remus glanced at each other. They had seen several of their new comrades trying to keep their faces blank but each saw the fear of rejection and possible pity. "Oh. But I'm fine. I always heal quickly. I just need a shower and a place to hunt."

Charles nodded slowly, understanding the new member's hesitation. Quite of few of his students were wary of the Infirmary and Hank's labs, despite other's reassurances, "Of course, but I would like to insist to have a quick check-up though. Your friend's throat seems to be bothering him. Hank has something that might soothe it."

Harry opened his mouth to argue when a large hand covered it, he faced anarrowed amber stare. "He'll gladly give in as long as I'm there." Remus shoved his Cub towards Hank, "I will force you to go, Cub. You need to be checked. I saw your wound slowly healing. You're exhausted."

Harry pouted, "Moony." But followed, only to stop short, "You will be right there, right?"

Remus held his Cub close. Harry had always hated the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. There wasn't a year that he was forced to remain for a few days rest with some serious injury or bed rest when he stopped sleeping at night. There was a time when Harry's friends always promised to be there for him when he woke but ended up betraying him, turning away. "You know I will, Cub. Come. Let's see what their doctor can do."

The team waited for their guests to disappear into the mansion before confronting a contemplating Charles. "Sir?"

"I have a strong feeling with these two. They won't trust easily." Charles ignored the amused snort from Gambit. The Cajun had been with them for a short time and they still haven't fully gained his trust. Like Gambit, someone had broken their trust, forcing them feel as if the world was after them. Then again Gambit trusted Logan more than the team. Logan, himself, had lived a life of half-truths and pain. These two could possible be able to reach through their guests. "We won't push them any more than we have Gambit and Logan." Each heard the stern, silent warning, "Keep your shields tight, Jean. Something warns me that they won't be polite about our telepathy. I got a strand mentioning traps and promised pain when I automatically tried scanning for them."

Scott frowned, "But, Sir..."

"No, Scott!" Charles turned a heated look to his student he saw as a son. "I would rather we asked and they allowed us." Their shields are unlike Gambit's but feel the same. Where as Gambit's mind is static and lures you into traps, theirs is gone but still warns intruders to turn back before it's too late. Blue eyes watched until Scott reluctantly nodded. "Call the rest of the team. We'll take this to the living room. No need to show off the entire mansion's lower levels if they do not stay."

"Chuck?" Logan had known Charles was silently communicating with his boy. He didn't like it one bit. He really didn't like what Charles had been trying to explain either nor did Gambit, considering the tensing of the Cajun's muscles.

"Telepaths can read the lies within one's mind. Ferals and empaths seemed to sense it. But something tells me that they will know our every intention without needing to be near, or at least the younger one will."

Scott turned back from the hangar's door, "Are we sure we want them to stay?" He was uneasy. Neither telepath could read their guests but knew their minds were dangerous. Now he learned that they could read them without having to be nearby.

Charles nodded, "Yes, Scott. I would rather they remained on our team or at least as our closest allies. They're powerful, the younger one seems stronger than his friend. But we will need to make them feel welcome. They might relax or at least give us some idea of who and what they are."

------------------------------Living Room------------------------------

"We have entered the twilight zone." Hank laughed as he entered the living room to see every member of the X-Men sitting silently. He could feel the tension and hoped to ease it for their guests peering around him.

"Have a seat, gentlemen." Charles pointed to a lone part of the couch.

What they didn't know but Remus suspected that Harry was tired, sore, hungry, dirty, and unbalanced. He was about to let his temper get the best of him and when his temper went, so did his power. "Spanish Inquisition time already?" Harry had already warned them about what he wanted.

"Cub." Remus warned Harry, knowing once the boy started almost nothing could stop his tantrum.

Charles saw several of his students tense, the ones who were susceptible to sudden changes of mind and body. "I felt it prudent you were able to meet the entire team and gain knowledge you might wish."

Harry's feral smirk caused the already tense members to shift uneasily, "Very smart upon your part."

Remus smacked his Cub's left arm, "Behave, Sheik, and give Cub back his control."

Emerald eyes burned with silver streaks as the beast refused to settle down. He was hungry and tired. His human was also hungry and tired. They both felt weak, useless without their balance of animalistic instinct and magical gifts. "My head is ringing because of you, Remus." But Remus ignored the sneer.

Charles tried to ease the dangerously thick tension, "As you might have heard, we are the X-Men. A team I had founded and began to protect the innocent from those who wish to destroy this world. We try helping the Homo-sapiens world from renegade homo-superiors or fellow mutants. I have also turned my home into a school for younger children. It is a place of sanctuary, a place to further their education and to gain control over their powers. We also have other similar homes for students that are not able to come to the Institute or wish to break off from the Institute to make their own headway. We even have a medical staff based in Scotland. They've been quite helpful in teaching students with almost uncontrollable, dangerous mutations that we have not been able to contain. They also help Hank in discovering new cures or further the knowledge of various mutations in hopes of providing efficient medical help."

Harry snorted, wanting nothing more than to sleep with a hot meal in his stomach. Every moment not gaining his desires was wreaking havoc on his control and furthering the unbalanced equation of beast, human, and magic. "Oh, wonderful, more Pureblood versus Muggles."

"Harry!"

"It is. You have to agree with that."

Remus growled low in his throat as he stood before his Cub, who crossed his arms in childish tantrum, "That is not how you've been raised."

A dark brow lifted, "Oh, it is when you count the Dursleys and the narrow-minded Ministry. This was suppose to be freedom."

Remus sighed as he stared closer at his Cub, seeing what it was he had missed. He recognized the signs. Just a few years before, he and Severus had dealt with an extremely moody wizard with the power to level a building as he gained the inheritance of the Potter and Black families. It had been rough that entire week, only easy when Severus had managed a sleeping draught to keep Harry sedated for hours. "What more did you want? We knew the risk coming here. We could have stayed but it would have been a matter of time before you fell into shadows."

Harry looked away, trying to keep from feeling guilty. Remus saw his pain, his unbalance. The amber-eyed man had dealt with his anger before, during his inheritance. Snape had also lent a hand to help when Harry's temper had destroyed the Hospital Wing during one of his tantrums, all without saying a word. His magic had always answered his emotions, the stronger he felt the more dangerous he became. Now with him feeling poorly, severely moody as well, it hurt as he tried forcing magic and beast to fully merge. Nor did it help when reality was catching up. The nightmares, the betrayals, the changes he had yet to confront were swimming before his vision. "I want my life."

Searching his pockets, Remus reached for the shrunken items. He knew Severus had created a stronger version of Harry's sleeping draught. His Cub would need it if their new home wished to survive. In his search of the trunks appeared a small cedar box, holding five vials of dark blue almost black liquid. "Here." He handed one vial to his Cub while re-shrinking his trunks but keeping the box. He then turned to face a stunned crowd, "Is there a place he can rest?"

Charles glanced at the young man, who had passed out the moment he swallowed the strange liquid, "Will he be fine?"

"He needs rest. I had forgotten about his imbalance." Remus knew they deserved to know the danger they would be facing these few days, "Harry's powerful. We faced this once before. He had leveled and destroyed an entire room with his power before we could find a way to help him. The stronger he feels, the more dangerous he can become. Weakness has nothing to do with it. He can draw strength from his surroundings. But what you need to know is that coming here has unbalanced his inner core. He has gone from powerfully trained Wielder to an emotionally wrecked child housing wild magic and a feral beast. Neither has completely merged with his core. Until they do, you will need to be careful around him."

"And that vial?"

Remus held one up to their curiosity. "This was made by a fellow friend. He was a Master at his art. Besides me, Severus was the only one Harry would respond to, that even stood a chance against Harry's power. We learned that this sleeping draught would keep Harry sedated for a full night's sleep. It was the only way to contain his emotions. When he wakes, he'll feel more in control. I must warn you though, he can level your entire house during one tantrum. We learned this the hard way when he literally destroyed his relatives' home, almost killing all four of them. It was only a day after his seventeenth birthday when they had either said or done something that angered him."

"I understand."

"No, you don't. Harry's unique in many ways. What you need to understand is this, don't hide yourself or put on an act. You do, you lose. Since his seventeenth birthday, Harry's always been able to intimately know his surroundings and the people in it. My advice, let him be until five days are up." Remus juggled with his Cub, trying to give Harry a better position to relax. "I have a feeling we aren't done."

Charles chuckled at the dry tone, "If you don't mind, I would like to introduce my students. It's only right. You can explain them to Harry when he wakes." He waited for the hesitant nod. "You've already met Hank," the blue doctor raised a large hand in greeting, "we have given him a separate name, Beast."

Remus frowned, slightly confused, "I'm assuming you all have separate names. Is there a reason? You've heard mine. Remus or Moony, which was a nickname in school."

"Yes. The X-Men, when in battle or on missions, usually have an alter ego. Beast is the codename for Hank." Charles turned to the scowling form at his right, "This is the leader of the team, Scott Summers or Cyclops."

Scott's visor briefly glowed red as he turned his head to find a window. He felt his mentor's gentle but insistent nudge to show his ability. One hand tugged open the window as the other fiddled with the small knob, twisting it to a different setting. Amber eyes had widen at the sight of a single beam of light from those eyes, not once stopping until Scott had reset his visor, "I have the ability to produce optical beams from my eyes. But I must wear these goggles or a pair of sunglasses made of ruby red quartz to maintain control. Otherwise I would continuously create a never ending streak of light."

Remus was curious to learn more. He put it down to his inability to walk away from fascinating subjects. He focused on a lovely redhead and for one moment spared a caring thought to the deceased Lily Potter. This woman could have been her twin. "I am Jean Grey. I go by Phoenix. I have two gifts. Telepathy, the ability to read and project thoughts, which is behind a tight shield for you privacy." She glanced at Charles, "Charles Xavier is also a telepath. One of the most powerful, too. He helped me create my shields to protect me. A telepath can go insane from too many thoughts in their head without proper shields and still may lose their mind if their shields are too tight. We thrive on linking with others close to us. It helps keeps us grounded in a way, I suppose. At least that's the theory Charles and I came up with. My second ability is telekinesis. With this I can manipulate objects by throwing or lifting them. I can create a force field to protect myself and others, even make us fly or hold someone in place." She held out a hand, wrapping her gift around Logan's beer bottle to drag it from him, who yanked it back with a growl.

Remus could see why she would use the word phoenix. Her telekinesis had a fiery shape to it, almost as if she could manipulate fire to her bidding. Interesting, so far. He politely turned to the next figure stepping forward as Jean leaned into Scott's welcoming embrace. He observed and reflected that they were at least lovers if not engaged. Then amber eyes catalogued the dark skinned female. Her hair was pure white, flowing down her back, and her eyes were a soft gray color. She seemed calm and serene, like royalty, a Goddess reigning over her domain without fear. "I am Ororo Munroe. Or Storm. I was once worshipped as Windrider among my tribe, a weather Goddess. I can control or manipulate the weather and few elements like rain or water." Grey eyes turned pure white as a howling wind suddenly rose to whipping action around her body before dying down.

At her side stood a light blue skinned male with something metallic sticking over his shoulders. His fellow friends crowded away, giving him ample room to spread large metallic wings. "I am Warren Worthington. Archangel." He flushed with embarrassment at the steady gaze, "I'm still trying to figure out why I'm on the team. I'm one of their flyers. Use to have feather wings before I lost them and gained these. The only good thing is that they make wonderful shields and can reflect most physical and energy attacks. They also shoot what I call flatchets, loose metal feathers that are flung like daggers towards my opponent."

Remus zeroed in on the comforting slender hand that patted Warren's shoulder with a lover's touch. His eyes stared. Ororo had shockingly white hair. This woman had purple almost lavender hair. Tonks was the only one he knew with the ability to change her hair color at whim. Not only that, this woman was also clad in a tightly fitted outfit. It seemed to have once been a cat suit altered to cover her essential body. The leggings reached her mid thigh as gloves graced her arms. Like her hair, her outfit was a reflection of dark blue to purple. She graced him with a smile, "I am Elizabeth Braddock, Betsy for short. My exotic look won me a top position as a fashion model." Oh, this he could see. "I am also know as Psylocke. Like Jean and the Professor, I am a telepath, just not as powerful. I am also a highly trained martial artist. A Master Ninja, you could say. I also have the ability to focus my telepathy into what I call a physic knife to penetrate my opponent, knocking them unconscious or dizzy." She formed a lavender colored flame around her left hand, shaping it into a crude dagger that flared with power.

"She's scary sometimes. But cool." Everyone laughed at the statement as Remus faced a young man. Probably around Harry's age. "I'm Robert Drake, prefer Bobby though. I'm the Iceman of the team." He proved that by literally turning his body into a figure of pure ice, emitting cold steam. Then back to human. "I got the control of ice and water. Not all that great but I'm learning. Can freeze molecules of water and air, using it to create ice slides, snowballs, sculptures, even projectiles to throw."

"Bobby's th' team clown. He loves a good prank. Always playin' 'em on others." A brunette female gently shoved aside the pouting Bobby. She laughed at him, light green eyes flaring with amusement. One gloved hand pushed aside a thick lock of white. Remus noticed that she had a single flowing patch of white crowning her head above the dark brown curls. "Ah'm Rogue." She held out a hand that he shook, a brow raising at her strength. "As Wolvie says, Ah'm th' scrapper of th' team. Ah'm from th' South, ya born true Rebel gal."

Charles gently took the stand. He knew how Rogue sometimes hated her ability. They had yet to find absolute control for her. "Rogue's mutation is her ability to absorb by skin contact, which is why she's usually covered or wearing gloves. She can absorb a mutant's abilities, manipulating them to her advantage until they fade, depending on the length of touch. She has also been able to absorb the memories, knowledge, and personality of the one she touched. If she holds on to long she can permanently absorb them. It is how she's gained the ability to fly without manipulating her power like Storm or Jean. Nor does she need wings like Warren. She also gained her inhuman strength and invulnerability. We've been working with her to gain full control so that one day she does not need to hide behind barriers of gloves."

Rogue shifted in her place. Remus smiled gently. He understood she felt shamed by her power. In a way, each ability so far could be a blessing or a curse, depending on how the world saw them or the situation they were in. "And the last two?" He remembered the younger male, the Cajun. The man had kept his Cub company on the rooftop.

"I'm Logan. Wolverine or Weapon X, dependin' on who ya meet. I've got one mutant power, healing factor." Logan clenched one hand, forcing out three razor sharp blades to appear above his knuckles before retracting, the wounds healing instantly, "These here were man made. Entire bone structure covered in metal, hard ta break and can cut through almost anythin'. Was some experiment by the government. Got a feral in me, that's the beast." Remus could see the barely controlled animal in blue eyes tinged with gold. "I can go feral at any given time."

Remus heard what wasn't said. The man's beast was a trained killer. All ferals were predatory, even Harry. They knew to defend and attack, to kill if needed. But hearing the word 'government' meant Logan was a trained assassin before he was able to get away. He also had the feeling that the uneasy control was due to a broken mind. He had seen werewolves in human form go insane from having their minds wiped or broken by a stronger wizard. Logan seemed to fall into that category but had a family, friends, who brought him back from the edge when they could. He had friends that had done the same when he lost control of the werewolf.

"Our last member is Remy LeBeau or Gambit. Our Cajun resident." Charles warmly smiled at the lounging figure, who lighted a cigarette with a single finger despite the warning from Scott.

"Gambit can blow t'ings up." He pulled a deck of cards from a hidden pocket in his trench coat, fanning them out. Long, slender fingers carefully grasped one. Remus watched as it began to glow; a steady pink, then red. Seconds later, it slowly drained back into Remy's hand.

"Remy has control over kinetic energy. He can charge inanimate objects to explode. Almost everything in his surroundings can be a weapon, though we've seen him prefer his playing cards. He has a devastating accuracy of hitting whatever target he aims at. A few cards aren't much but the explosion can knock someone out. But a full deck can bring down the roof."

"Gambit also be a Master T'ief. De best in de world." A smug smirk crossed the rugged features, as if he was proud of that fact. Remus figured he would. Harry had made friends with many strange people. Some of them with questionable career choices. After all, Harry was a trained warrior, a wielder of magic with the ability to destroy the world around him if he wished.

"Is there a reason why you wear dark glasses inside?" Gambit tensed. Logan gently murmured to the Cajun. With a reluctant sigh, he lowered the black shades to reveal red on black eyes. Remus didn't react as everyone else around him had at the first sight of those eyes, with the exception of Logan and a rare few. He actually smiled at the sight, eyes bright with curiosity and appreciation. "Better than facing Voldemort. Merlin help me, but if you were in his place, you'd have my vote."

Gambit blinked. Then laughed, "Gambit like y', mon ami." Gambit also knew that the other man felt he was hiding something but wouldn't say a word since he hadn't been telling all his secrets either, barely spilling his friend's secrets while he was at it.

"This is the main team of the X-Men. As I have mentioned, we have other extensions of the team but under another's leadership." Charles glanced at his wristwatch, "And seeing as we have taken most of your time to allow your child's rest, I believe there are two free rooms just below Ororo's loft. Logan and Remy are the only occupants. They can lead the way."

Remus nodded, juggling his Cub into a better position as he stood, "Harry's my Cub, not my son." Seeing the confused looks, "It's a part of who I am. His father was my best friend. I am Harry's Guardian as long as he wishes. Otherwise I'm his confidante, his friend, the only family he has. I know you're curious. It's only right but I gave away more than I tended. I won't betray my Cub. Not ever, not if I can help it."

Charles raised a hand to cut off all objections, "Then follow Logan and Remy. They will show you to your rooms. We shall have dinner ready soon."

"Harry will sleep for a few more hours. Can you send a tray? One with the meat rare? He hasn't had the chance to allow his beast freedom to roam." Charles turned to Jean.

"Logan!" Jean was not going to be conned in changing her dinner plans.

Said man snickered, "Not a problem, Bub. I'll fix his plate. Anything special for ya?"

"No silver, please. I'm allergic to it and Harry won't use silver as respect for me." With those last words, Remus followed a beckoning Cajun to the stairs.

Scott waited until they had disappeared, "Sir!"

"No, Scott. I told you this before. I want them to feel we can be trusted. I'm sure when Harry's awake we might learn more tomorrow."

"With all due respect, Sir, I have a Danger Room session scheduled for the morning." Scott ignored the whines and groans. "Early."

Charles chuckled, "Very well. Perhaps they would like to watch, see a clearer demonstration as to who and what we are. And perhaps their curiosity that I encountered will allow them to show us their abilities." He turned from a gaping Scott to a worried Jean, "Something wrong, Jean?"

"Just trying to decide what I can use in place of our silver. I believe I'll have Remy help Logan make their plates. A trained thief will know what's silver and what's not. Better than me accidentally giving Remus silver and putting him in the lab. Might as well get dinner started before hunger sets in." Charles had been wondering the same. Maybe they will explain tomorrow, Jean. After all, they seemed to have much in common with the resident Cajun and Canadian. Both had hard pasts before becoming our friends, Remy and Logan. Perhaps they are what we need to reach them.