Note: Please look to prologue for disclaimer and additional notes about the story.

A Dance With Fate

Canopus Carina

Chapter 1 of 20

Monday: 1 August 1977

One glorious morning, about a week since this Harry Potter appeared out of nowhere, he was allowed out of his room. The scars and cuts from before seemed to have healed nicely to a point where they wouldn't see them unless they knew they were there. The same had been done to Remus numerous of times after a particularly difficult werewolf attack occurred. Harry walked cautiously out from behind the elder Potters, unknowing of the dangers a Marauder's household could contain. He took his time observing his surrounding, gauging certain similarities with sharp contrasts from his previous home. Or at least that was what he looked to be doing. What was odd, however, was when he took a deep, closed eyed breath before he even glanced at the other inhabitants of the room.

"James, don't just stand there, welcome your cousin!"

There was a long pause as James did not follow his mother's instructions.

"James!"

"It is okay, Aunt Rebecca, I do not need a formal introduction," the boy spoke calmly. There was a lack of scratched quality in his voice that made the rest of them assume he was actually awake partially before he was allowed out of the room. Remus knew Mrs. Potter was very protective of her charges, himself included if he visited right after a full moon, and felt slightly sympathetic for the boy. He was probably even lucky to leave the room after only a week, in the state he was when he first arrived.

"Hi, I'm Harry, just Harry if you would," the boy continued calmly as if he was used to the stares. But no one seemed to know what to say in return.

"Well, honestly boys," James' mother exclaimed, frustrated, "why don't you just introduce yourselves? He's completely harmless."

Remus couldn't tell why he felt differently, but the boy almost smirked at being called harmless. It wasn't a very good sign. But he would be hypocritical if he wanted to blame him for being slightly dark. He was a werewolf; surely Harry couldn't be worst than that. So he welcomed the boy himself, introduced everyone, and offered him a bowl for his own breakfast. If James was going to be silent for once in his life, he couldn't be opposite from his usual shy self and take the initiative.

"So, I take it you're not a Death Eater?" Sirius demanded, reseating right next to the newcomer and looping an arm around Harry, "or else they wouldn't allow you to stay here. It would be off to Azkaban for you! But that doesn't mean you don't have other secrets you want to keep from us. So what are they?"

"Isn't the point of a secret that no one else finds out about them?" Harry countered, not minding the blatant disregard for his privacy.

"Maybe you didn't catch from the introductions, but I'm Sirius Black," he paused to find any reaction to his name. There should have been something instead of just a patient stare. Everyone knew of the Blacks at least and their hand in the dark arts. But no reaction at all, just a look, "-white sheep of the Black family, purveyor of mischief. It is my job to know your secrets."

"Surely you have your own secrets you should be holding onto while you can. If you try to take on another person's, your own will be tumbling out of control." Again, instead of looking scandalized in the very least for such intrusion, Harry calmly stirred his cereal. A small smile graced his face as he started speaking again. "And believe me, I have too many to tell over a single breakfast."

Looks of confusion was spread throughout the room at the strange statement. Remus himself was trying to create logic from the statement. Would the secret searcher feel they needed to give a secret of their own therefore loosing a secret? Or did it mean they could forget to withhold certain information when getting in the mood of telling tales? Both, or even neither? He had smirked while being called harmless, could it be he would threaten them with danger to get something out of them? Somehow he couldn't see any of it happening, but determined to remain cautious. The mysterious Harry let the others speculate his previous statement in peace, softly crunching on cereal, but never let his eyes wander from the room's other inhabitants. It showed training in battle strategy: Know all opponents positions, no matter their current situation.

"Do we get to know why you are here?" Peter asked unsure due to the silence.

Harry turned his weary eyes to Peter where something peculiar happened. The rather guarded eyes flashed with several emotions in quick succession. "Maybe," he said mysteriously and continued on his cereal.

It turned out that James didn't just have some random person popping out of no where who just happened to be his cousin. He was James' father's cousin's grandchild, which made him a second cousin once removed. And he had clearly inherited the male Potter looks, the tale-tell black hair that listened to no one and boyish face bone structure. They had met before, but when he was one or two years old, so long ago that Harry didn't remember him. He didn't know for sure, but Remus figured Harry was about sixteen, so that would probably make James about three. An age too young to remember meeting people as well. Perfectly understandable.

Even when they checked the Potter's family book, it proudly displayed Harry Potter under Christopher and Cynthia Paol Potter. What disturbed them is that under his parent's names it stated that the three of them were in hiding, and after some research, they found that it was because of a blood feud between Cynthia's influential family ties and a German wizard family. Peculiar to say the least, but explainable in its own right. When asked where they were hiding, Harry simply said, "I can't tell you much, as it would ruin the whole point of being in hiding, but we primarily in America so I could go to school, but I had been traveling a lot in the past year."

But what they couldn't understand is why Harry would be attending Hogwarts with them come September 1st. No where in Hogwart's history had there ever been an exchange student or even a transfer student, and they couldn't think that the headmaster was crazy enough to break that tradition. No matter whom the person was. When they asked him, Harry could only shrug.

"Professor Dumbledore didn't really leave any room for negotiation," he answered at length, "but it would probably be better for me to be there other than somewhere else. It would the most resourceful place."

The others waited semi-patiently for him to continue and explain the hidden message behind it, primarily why Hogwarts would be the best place to be. What resources could be hidden in the castle that this stranger would need to use? But Harry remained silent, opting to recline in his chair and stare into the fire that was alight close by. His eyes held such depth to them, holding many secrets, that Remus started to doubt his earlier assumption of Harry being sixteen. With such eyes, he looked about forty while his body had remained in his teen years. He couldn't hold back the question: "How old are you?"

"Just turned eighteen yesterday, actually," he answer softly, not turning from the flames. "Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," Remus trailed off. The other Marauders turned to him questioningly, but now wasn't the time to get into detail on the peculiarities Harry held. It was hard to force his mind to recognize that the new boy was actually older than them, and not two years younger as he had first thought. He quickly categorized the information in the back of his mind for further consideration later as Harry finally turned to Remus with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't ask questions you don't mean," Harry argued with an amused look.

"We have just met," Sirius interrupted. "How could you know that about Remus already?"

Harry actually looked frightened for a second or two before that emotion vanished from his eyes and was replaced with the amused look again. "Just look at him, he seems the curious type. And the curious type ask important questions to get answers."

Remus didn't want to go down the dark road of how he had been too curious long ago which always came back to haunt him. He didn't want to think he could go back to being curious other than school related subjects and end up in dark trouble again. So he concentrated on masking his face with an aloof expression while he was analyzing Harry more closely.

Harry didn't refuse to answer any question, though seemed to answer with answers that only prompted one thousand questions more, except one: why was he not still with his parents. Did something happen to them? It was something the others understood was something they shouldn't prod. Each of them loved their parents dearly, with the exception of Sirius but he considered the Potter parents to be better parents for him and he loved them just as much, and would be devastated to lose them. Something like that, especially at a time when the pain was so new, was just something they mentally swore not to get into.

End of Chapter 1 – 1,577 words

Posted: 21 May 2007