A/N: Well, I'm back to this fic again! (Finally some of you are saying…) I must say I was happily surprised by the number of reviews I got for the first chapter. I hadn't really expected half of what I got. I'm sorry it took me so long to get back to chapter two of this fic, but I had some writers block, and had to balance this with school (which I need to do better in if I want to do a very nice program at Cambridge over the summer), my (virtually non-existent) social life, and of course, Rise of the Forsaken. But enough of my ramblings! On with the show!!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or Elfen Lied.

"talking"

'thinking'

SSParceltongueSS

Chapter One: Reunion

Harry Potter jolted up as he heard the sound of thunder crashing outside. He was sitting in his bed in number four Privet Drive, breathing hard and sweating, with rain pattering the window across from him. For a moment he couldn't help but look around frantically, half expecting to see someone else there. Then he gained control of himself and sighed.

Two weeks of summer had passed, two weeks since the department of mysteries, two weeks since Sirius' death, two weeks since Harry had been possessed by Voldemort, and two weeks since Dumbledore had seen fit to inform Harry that it was destined to come down to him and Voldemort in the end. In those two weeks, Harry had been through hell.

Every night he was plagued by dreams. Most involved him reliving the deaths of Sirius and to a lesser extant Cedric, as well as Voldemort's possession, but no matter what it was he saw he always ended up waking up covered in sweat as if he had run a marathon. To top off the lack of sleep, the Dursley's had decided to make his life hell, well more so than usual anyway, and he hadn't received any word from any of his friends!

'Do they even care? Do they have any independent thoughts aside from what Dumbledore plants in their heads?' Harry thought bitterly. Then he shook his head. 'That's foolish of me to think.' Came his next thoughts with a self-chastising flavor. 'Of course they care. Why else would they be my friends?'

When that thought finished passing through his head he blinked. What the hell was that? How did he go from raging and angry to self chastising and forgiving? 'Could it be that-'

"Boy! Do you know what time it is!? Keep your freak mouth shut or else! I swear, we should've left you at the orphanage like we meant to!" Came the voice of his uncle from down this hall. Harry only dimly realized that he must have made enough noise in his sleep to wake his uncle, for the word orphanage had sent images careening through his mind.

A mishap with magic.

A beating, followed by a long car trip.

A building that had clearly seen better days.

A woman that was unnerved by "freakishness."

Bullies harassing a girl his age, calling her freak.

Pink hair, red eyes, horns, and friendship.

Twinkling eyes, and a flash of white.

Then, suddenly, the images stopped and faded from Harry's mind, becoming fuzzy and indistinct. He realized that he was lying on the floor, and heard the pounding footsteps of his uncle approaching his room. Shaking his head to clear it, he quickly stood up and faced the door. Within seconds the door slammed open, revealing the fat form of Vernon Dursley, whose face was already puce from rage. He had eyes only for Harry, eyes filled with an almost murderous gleam.

"Freak! This is the last straw! I am tired of this foolishness! First I, a perfectly upstanding man, am burdened with your freakish self for years after your freakish parents got what all of your lot deserve, then I am threatened by your freakish friends, and now I can't even sleep because of your moaning! I swear freak, this is the last straw!" Vernon was sputtering with rage by the end of his rant and began to move towards Harry, intent to harm him clear in his beady eyes.

Harry was unable to move out of Vernon's way immediately because he was still disoriented by the visions(?) he had received. As a result, Vernon was able to kick Harry from where he was on the ground, sending him into the wall on the other side of the room. Harry gasped in pain as he hit the wall, the air being driven out of his lungs. He raised his head from and saw his uncle closing in on him, intent on beating him more. Time seemed to slow down for a moment as the realization of what had just happened and what was about to happen crashed over him. Then suddenly, Harry felt like something within him snapped.

The temperature in the room began to drop at an alarming rate, causing Vernon to stop nervously. He watched as Harry slowly picked himself up from the floor, keeping his head bowed. An aura of unease radiated from him, an aura that compelled Vernon to leave as fast as possible, yet the fat man stubbornly retained his position. "I told you boy, I'll have none of your freakishness." He said, his voice a bit uncertain.

Harry remained silent for a few moments, before he raised his head and locked eyes with Vernon. His eyes were no longer the same as they had been before. Before they had been downtrodden, either full of guilt or of useless anger. Now his eyes were dark, a green that drew in all light around them, and that gave off a feeling of inhumanity.

Harry stared at his uncle for a few moments, feeling the fear radiating from the man. He felt as if a dam had broken inside of him, letting power that was previously blocked up flow freely through him. The feeling was… magnificent. Acting on impulse he locked eyes with his uncle.

"Leave," Harry said in a deadly calm voice.

For a few moments it looked as though Vernon might protest, but then the fat man's eyes glazed over and he silently left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Harry couldn't help but stare incredulously at the door through which his uncle had left. He raised his hand before his eyes and stared at it. It didn't look any different, still had four fingers and a thumb, still the same pale color as the rest of his skin, yet he could feel the power running through it. The power running through his entire body.

All of that power, shunted into a person that was used to feeling almost hopelessly powerless, was too much for Harry's body to take. He had only enough time to stagger to his bed from where he stood before the power overwhelmed him and he collapsed, sweating onto the bed.

Harry groaned before slowly opening his eyes. Looking around, he beheld a great void, filled with nothing. He looked down to find that he seemed to be floating in the darkness, with nothing visible beneath him. It was a very disconcerting realization. Slowly he pulled himself to his feet.

"Nice, isn't it?"

Harry immediately whipped his head around in an effort to find the source of the voice. He looked in a circle around him but beheld nothing.

"Over here."

This time Harry turned towards where the voice came from and came face to face with him. The person he was facing looked exactly like he himself did, except his seemed to glow with power, and his expression was a sneer resembling something like contempt.

Harry reacted the way most people would when faced by a duplicate of themselves. He jumped back a foot, shouting in surprise. The duplicate looked vaguely amused.

"Now, is that anyway to greet someone who's been away for so long?" The duplicate asked.

Harry wasn't quite sure how to react to that, so he took a stab in the dark. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

The duplicate grinned coldly. "Why, don't you recognize me Harry? I mean, it's only been eight years, almost nine, since we last were together."

Now Harry was really confused. "What do you mean!?" He exclaimed.

The other Harry frowned now, before answering in a voice that spoke of power, "I mean that it's been almost nine years since either of us was whole, almost nine years since Dumbledore bound me away from you." The other Harry spat Dumbledore's name with venom that bespoke total hatred of the man. Harry was more concerned with what his Double had said though, not how he said it.

"Your… me?" He said tentatively.

"Bingo." Was the reply.

"But, how is that even possible?"

The duplicate shrugged, "Well, all things considered, our kind have always had a predisposition for split personalities, which is what locked me away with so much of our power when Dumbledore decided to ruin our shot at a better life those years ago."

Harry wasn't happy to hear that. "You mean to say, that I could've been gone from the Dursleys, but Dumbledore placed me back here after finding out what I had gone through?"

"That, and that he blocked off your power, your memories, and put behavioral charms on you." Came the reply from the double, who was now showing as much rage from the idea as Harry had begun to feel. Then he seemed to collect himself, regaining control just before he seemed likely to go over the edge.

"If you want, I can show you the memories, now that you are here."

Harry was angry, desperate, and curious, so there was no way in hell that he was going to turn down such an offer. Steeling himself, he nodded to his double.

The double smiled slightly. "Very well. When you have finished reliving your memories you will awaken. What you decide to do from there is not something I can affect. We are still separate after all. Still, we will meet again." Having said his piece, the double waved his hand, sending Harry careening away, flying into memories of what he had nearly had.

When Harry woke up, light had begun to stream through the window and into his room. Taking a look at himself, he found that he was covered with sweat. Despite this, he felt more energized than he had in his life. He thought back to the experience he had had with his other side, as he had begun to think of it, as well as to the memories that he had regained.

He had realized immediately upon entering the memories that his manipulation of his uncle had been triggered by the breaking of the power bonds, and he realized from his reactions to the memories that the behavioral charms had to have broken as well.

How did he realize that? He was furious. With Dumbledore. Something that had never happened to such an extent before. In fact, he felt a great deal of rage in general; sheer anger from the fact that someone had dared bond him. He didn't quite understand it, but he didn't care much either.

Suddenly he snapped his head around, looking north. He had felt something. A pull of sorts… there it was again! Something was tugging at him, pulling at him. He could feel it in his head, compelling him to seek it out. Without really thinking about it, he left his room and made his way out of the house.

Making his way down the front path to the sidewalk, Harry heard the sound of snoring and smelled pipe smoke and alcohol, a sure sign that his "guard" was Mundungus Fletcher, the laziest drunk to be found in the Order of the Phoenix. Casting his gaze about, Harry was surprised to find that he could easily see the man, lying down in the grass of the Dursley's front lawn. He couldn't help but think about how much the Order seemed to be slipping, to let such idiots as Dung do things like that. Still, he thought, it wasn't really any of his business what they did.

After all, at this point, what screwed over Dumbledore made Harry just a bit happier.

Cutting out of his musings, Harry began to follow the insistent pull that was drawing him to it. It led him up Privet Drive, following the sidewalk til it reached the underpass where he and Dudley had been ambushed by Dementors the summer before. He stopped for a moment when he reached that spot, remembering just how weak he had been at the time, barely able to ward of the Dementors when they came calling. He silently vowed to never let himself be that weak again before he began walking again.

Eventually the pull led him to the park. It was empty when he got there, it being only around six in the morning, so he was surprised to find someone already there, sitting on one of the swings facing away from him. The person appeared to be female judging from the shape of her body, around Harry's age at least. She had pale skin and her hair was down to her shoulders, the color unknowable in the dim light. She wore a somewhat ratty looking hat on her head, down to her ears, an oddity in the summer heat. As Harry approached her, she began to speak in a low voice.

"So, they've decided to send someone new this time, have they? It makes no matter. I'll just kill you like all the others if you try and take me back there."

Harry was struck by how familiar the voice sounded, though he couldn't place it. It almost sounded like… but it couldn't be, could it. What would be the chances of her being there of all places.

"What are you talking about?" He asked the girl, confused and a bit concerned by her words.

The girl stiffened in surprise, before slowly turning around and regarding Harry with eyes that, even in the dim light, were clearly the color of blood. Harry stifled a gasp of surprise when he saw them. Harry and the girl both spoke at the same time in their surprise.

"Harry?"

"Lucy?"

A/N: Yay!!! Sorry for the Cliffy guys. I finally defeated the demon of writers block! (Does a victory dance on the grave of the eternal foe of all writers, trying to enjoy his short victory.) I'm really sorry though… I know this is late!! Still, now you have it, and with the writers block gone and my schedule opening up a bit there should be more updates in general now. I hope you liked it. Now, as always; Like it? Hate it? Either way, please review it!!!

Korrag