A/N: Thank you for the encouraging comments that you lovely reviewers have given me at this stage already and a special thank you to my beta, Marijn!

Now, let the actual story begin...

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Chapter one: Either Us Or Them

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; Monday 3rd of January, year 1944, Near the concentration camp of Buchenwald

I was sitting in the backseat of a shiny Mercedes-Benz that was driving along a sandy road leading all the way to the concentration camp of Buchenwald which located on Ettersberg Hill, quite near Weimar. I was having a good-natured discussion my father, James Potter, about my new job as an SS man at the mentioned camp.

Colonel James Potter had been the influential SS-Oberführer of the concentration camp of Buchenwald ever since the year 1942 - when the former leader, Karl Koch, had been transferred to Majdanek. The car we were in at the time was almost exactly like Herr Hitler's own car, only the colour was different. My father hadn't had the nerve to buy a black 770-K Mercedes-Benz. That would not have gone unnoticed by the other officials, so instead he had bought a dark green one. Who knows, maybe by owning a car similar to his rightful Leader's he felt slightly more important himself, slightly closer to the object of his admiration.

"We are almost there, Harry", my father said, as he put down a glass that had contained Volnay. The second he let go of the delicate glass there was a bump in the road, causing the glass to fall and break into nine pieces at his feet. With a curse he kicked the shards under the seat in front of him.

"Damn those Jews! They can't even build a proper road."

; Wednesday 9th of November, year 1938, Berlin

The bell had just rung and students were milling out of the school. I was a rather new student at the time; I had moved to Berlin just one month ago after living in Britain for my whole life. It had been rather strange to suddenly go to a state school after going to a boarding school for so many years but the other students had accepted me very quickly.

The first thing they had asked me when I entered the school grounds was if I was a Jew. They had had that reserved look on their faces, standing in a semi-circle around me, but when I explained that my dad was an important military figure they were cool. I had got the same treatment before so I wasn't too insulted. Of course, it always stings when someone mistakes you for a Jew but I guess the German students had seen that I wasn't entirely German by my upbringing.

Anyhow, now that I had been to Germany for just over a month I belonged to the "inner circle" of the school. My new friends kept asking what it was like in Britain and why I had come here but I would only answer that this is where I belonged, and where my parents' families had originally come from. I was waiting for Blaz and Raynard at the gates, two guys I often used to hang out with, when Louis and his gang approached me. They were alright, although Louis himself was something of a jackass at times, very often looking for someone whose arm he could twist. I wasn't worried though, he was below me in the school hierarchy.

The smarmy smile characteristic to Louis was in place when he opened his mouth, which was full of crooked teeth.

"Hey, Potter. Have you heard what's happening tonight?"

I looked him and thought, 'God, he needs a brace!'

"No, I haven't. But I've got the feeling you're going to tell me."

He nodded enthusiastically at that. "Yeah, almost the entire school knows about it. Well, at least those who need to know. And it's not just our school; I have the feeling that this is going to be big."

I was getting quite interested now. I kept quiet so I wouldn't seem too eager to hear what Louis Fleischer had to say.

"People are gonna march into the Jewish areas and rough them up a bit, show them their places. Haven't you noticed how snooty they've become?"

I had to agree with him on that one. Just last week some Jewish snot-face had started a fight with a German boy from our school. I hadn't known the lad but I could remember seeing him once or twice. The Jew had lost, of course, since we had defended our fellow-schoolmate. The wuss had wept like a baby afterwards and he didn't stop flooding the street until his mother had come to lick his wounds. We didn't even beat him up that badly. He ought to be grateful we only broke one of his ribs.

"The guys are going to meet right here at the gates of the school at ten tonight. Don't be too loud about it, either. I dunno who it was but someone told me that the one who had planned out the event has given the instruction not to make it seem too organised." It felt almost as if I had just been told a secret war plan.

I agreed to meet the others and as Blaz and Raynard walked up to me, their coats laying over their shoulders, I said goodbye to Louis, who was still sporting that annoying grin of his. I told my friends about the event but they already knew, so once we reached Raynard's house we just decided to meet at the playground of our neighbourhood and walk to the school together that evening.

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The night turned out to be something I had not expected.

I had not been a part of any German youth organisations for too long, since I was still a new citizen. But as far as I could tell all the boys that I could remember from the Hitler Youth meetings were there. The group of guys that I had joined when we went pistol shooting last week; the redhead whose grenade had accidentally blown up quite near him, burning his eyebrows and a bit of his hair; a few boys I remember from the time our group went marching; and one bloke called Derek with whom I had to do map reading.

We stalked to the Jewish neighbourhood near us, just as loud as a big gang of teenage boys usually is. There were at least thirty of us, maybe even forty, I don't quite know. Some of them were carrying a bat or stick of some sort, armed almost like a bunch of hooligans. We felt incredibly almighty, and it was intoxicating, marching down the grey streets where the Jewish women carried their shopping bags and children played.

They all stepped out of our way.

Women were running to get their kids, pulling them aside. The passers-by hurried to their steps and those Jews who had been walking towards us suddenly turned around.

We looked down on them, we looked at the scum that they were and all we saw was diseased filth that was difficult to wipe away just like that. We sure as hell could try, though.

I don't know who it was, but someone had picked up a litter bin and was holding it above their head. It was dark already, the city lamps weren't on but it was clear what the person was up to.

There was a sound of glass shattering and falling to the ground, tiny shards glistening under the dim lights all over the pavement. In a matter of seconds there was another shower of glass somewhere near, then a third one, then a fourth, and then it was happening everywhere around us and no one could keep track on how many windows had been broken.

People screamed and shouted.

Louis and his cronies were beating up a man in front of a store, hitting him with a spade that someone had stolen from the very same shop. The man was spitting out blood, some friend of Louis was jumping on the man's head. Some other Jews were trying to help the man but boys from our side were holding them back, calling them names and spitting on them. I saw Louis raising the spade and hitting down hard, making a disgusting crunching sound. More yells. Some broke into houses and threw chairs through the windows from inside.

I saw the look in Louis's eyes. There was that manic glint there. He had just killed a man and now he was proceeding to join the others in breaking the windows and terrorising the inhabitants of the neighbourhood.

Luckily the man who had died had been just a Jew.

"Harry! Oy, come 'ere!" That was Blaz, waving at me as he stood in front of a store with a broken window. I ran to him and saw that he also had that strange spark in his eyes. Apparently he had received a small cut in his hand from the windowpane he had broken.

"Look what I found", he said and put something on my palm. I took a quick look at Blaz and saw him smiling. "Swiss chocolate."

"Thanks", I smiled back and we followed the other boys. Some stayed behind to finish up with whatever they were doing but most of those that I knew were going onwards, breaking windows and occasionally beating someone up.

It surprised me how little I felt for the Jews. Sure, under normal circumstances it would have been unfair for five people to beat up one person but this was different. If we didn't destroy them then they would destroy us. Dog eat dog.

I broke a window, or two, or a dozen.

I entered synagogues with the other guys and threw fist-sized stones at the colourful glass cupolas, trying to hit some certain spot there. We lit chairs and carpets and altars on fire, laughing at the panicking rabbis who tried to save whatever they could.

I took part in breaking into a house of a Jewish family. The family had gathered upstairs in the apartment's only bedroom. They were standing in the corner, staring at us, children whimpering.

"Please, leave us alone", the mother begged, working as a shelter for her two daughters. The father was standing in the front, holding a lamp in his hands and ready to use it as a weapon.

Someone from our group of five spoke up. "You don't belong here, you revolting pieces of shit. You don't deserve to live but still there you stand, within our very own, German city."

The four other boys approached the cornered family but I stood still at the door way. Deciding to go somewhere else, I ran down the stairs but stopped as I heard the woman shriek. The floor boards creaked, there were several thumps upstairs and the children kept crying. My hand gripped at the handrail like a vice as I looked up the stairs one last time before rushing out.

I saw that some of my classmates were still outside. Blaz was wrestling with another boy in the middle of the street, a few other boys trying to pry them apart. I ran to them, throwing punches at the other boy who still wouldn't let go. I could feel adrenaline flowing in my veins, clouding my thoughts. At first my fits hurt like a bugger but suddenly they were all numb and I could hit, hit and hit as much and as hard as I wanted without feeling anything. I pounded the boy's side, shoulder, back and head, screaming obscenities at him and ripping his hair out. I managed to get the perfect hit, right in the neck and suddenly he let go.

The boy rolled onto his back and stared into nothingness, brown eyes unmoving.

Blaz coughed on his hands and knees, spitting out some blood and touching his bleeding lip. "Harry –" And he got another coughing fit. I think someone brought him some water.

The boy whose name I didn't know but whom I had killed was still staring into the skies and I could see how the surface of his eyes started to dry. I had the urge to reach out and close his eyes but I was too afraid. Something heavy shifted in my stomach. He was dead. There was something scary about death.

Blaz helped me to stand up from where I had been kneeling next to the boy, doing nothing but staring and waiting for the boy to suddenly start breathing again. He put his hand on my shoulder and I turned my head to look at him in the face. Very softly he said: "It was either him or me. You had to do it."

I just nodded, looking down at my feet. Blaz squeezed my shoulder one more time and putting his arm around my shoulder he have me some sort of a male-hug, I think. Without further embarrassment we left the corpse of the Jewish boy behind us and walked with the other boys who were heading further down the streets. We saw other gangs joining us, our crowd building up into a huge, violent wave that destroyed everything in its way. I tagged along, following the other boys' example and acting like a true, patriotic National Socialist was supposed to.

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When I went to the store the next day the newspapers gave the night's events the name Kristallnacht, "the Night of Broken Glass".

Once again the glass had been wiped out of sight.

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Finally, after a long journey, the driver pulled the car over by the gates of the concentration camp of Buchenwald. The guards opened the iron gates in front of us, letting the car enter the camp area but closed them immediately once we had passed.

My father turned to me. "Even though you are my son I cannot give you the privilege of staying permanently with me and your mother while being here. You will have to stay at the SS men's barracks for most of the time; otherwise my reputation as a believable leader might suffer. However, you may visit us as often as you will. You will start working tomorrow. Today you may get settled and wander around the camp for all you like."

By then I felt the child-like excitement bubbling inside of me. It was almost like going to an amusement park where you were allowed to go anywhere you wanted, yet I also knew for sure that the camp had not been built for entertaining people. "I am allowed to go anywhere I want?"

The slight smile on my father's face suddenly melted away. "Believe me, Harry, you don't want to see everything that takes place in here."

My father had told me what concentration camps were about when I had just hit puberty. He told me everything he was allowed to tell me, not saving me from the details at all, and I think it was the right thing for him to do, too. Despite the rather unpleasant measures that were used to get rid of the prisoners I knew that this was right.

The car stopped at the yellow building where the SS men resided. Grabbing my bag and my coat I opened the door and stepped out. "I'm going to visit you soon, father. Tell mother that I love her."

"I will", he nodded.

I closed the door and purring softly the car drove away. I turned around and looked at the building where I would be staying for a rather long time. I took a deep breath and already felt that I belonged here.

A/N: Please, review the fic. Otherwise I get the message that what I write here is totally uninteresting and all my work has been useless.