Always

"Chapter One"

AN: As you guys know, I love AU plots. The ages for some things will need explaining.

Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters was built in Westchester - 1950 (coinciding with the start of the Korean War) This is where the story starts.

Harry's Birth - July 31's 1893
Logan's Birth - December 22, 1874

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Harry had never guessed that with him being the Master Of Death that he would stop aging at 17. The age he had been when connecting all three hallows. He also didn't expect to start losing his wizarding magic slowly over the course of 2 weeks and gaining stronger senses like what he'd imagined Remus' to be when he had been alive. It had taken the frozen teenager almost 4 years to get somewhat accustomed to the heightened senses. He was glad he didn't need glasses anymore though.

Now, 40 years had passed between the end of the war and where we find the previous wizarding hero. He was now calling the rugged forests of Canada home. He didn't particularly want to be in America right now. Maybe later when he'd learned how to be level-headed around people not like him. Honestly, he didn't know what he was anymore, or why he'd lost his magic. His MOD powers didn't match his weird werewolf senses. He didn't even know if they were related.

Harry was currently seated in a bar fully knowing he was pushing his appearance for the legal drinking age for alcohol in Canada. Luckily he had some friends back home who could help him falsify documents for his residency in this country. Allowing him to stay in one spot longer.

Currently, Harry was trying to stop glancing at one of the burliest men he'd ever seen. Aside from Hagrid that is. The man has seated three seats over from him and seemed to be slowly enjoying his beer with a cigar puff interrupting each sip. He so desperately held his attention, and Harry couldn't place why.

"Kid. . ." The man said abruptly. "You should take a photograph it will last longer." He added glancing towards the now blushing and embarrassed immortal teen. Harry didn't see the man smirk at the younger male's reaction due to having his face in the bar from embarrassment.

"Sorry." He mumbled, chastised.

"Whats a pretty little thing like you, here, alone, peeping on older men?" The gruff man asked as he switched seats to be one closer to the boy. Puffing his cigar as he moved.

Harry couldn't control the growl that came from him at that comment. He wasn't a kid. That was the worst assumption anyone could make of him, he hated it. He wished he could glamour his appearance again.

For his part, the other man didn't seem to react except for raising an eyebrow. Harry was grateful the man didn't say anything. He didn't want to be chased out of town again by prejudice. "I just moved here. Needed a change from my old home." Harry says unsure why he felt like he could trust this guy. He didn't have any of his usual aversion to the human as he did with others. Usually, he could smell their B.O., their sweat, and the worst of it was tasting their emotions. This man was a blank slate to him and he couldn't help but want to find out why.

"Name's James Howlett." The man says as he offers his hand to shake for the younger one.

"Nice to meet you, James. I'm Harry Evans." The younger man made contact with the other's open handshake, and without warning the two of them were engulfed in the other's pulsing heartbeat which was drumming in their ears, and James for some reason lamented the contact noticing the younger man wore a pair of black gloves that rose to under his clothes. What he wouldn't do to touch the utterly pale skin within them.

"What do I have to do to get you to come on a date with me?" James asked bluntly. What Harry didn't know was that James had the same experience with Harry, as he did with James. Both feral men were unable to catch any whiff of the other man. Nothing. It was like being around an inanimate object.

"Provide me your phone number, and I can call you when I get home?" Harry asked unsurely.

"Brilliant idea," James said, grabbing a nearby napkin and penning his name and phone number on it. Soon after the rugged man finishes his drink, and scoots out from the bar. "I'll be waiting, darlin'." He said in parting as he slowly walked out of the building. Knowing full well Harry was watching his ass. Maybe his visit to his hometown wouldn't be so boring after all.

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Thank you guys for making this fun for me. Don't forget to REVIEW! Reviewing urges me to write more!