Albus Dumbledore knelt as close as he could to the boy without him scuttling away in fear. Wide green eyes were watching him and all his companions. They had finally been able to storm Riddle Manor in an attempt to rescue Harry Potter, who had been captured two months earlier.
What they had found had surprised them.
The Manor was bathed in blood and body parts. As though everyone inside had been literally blown apart. And in the middle of it all stood Harry Potter, beaten, starved and utterly terrified of those that had come to love him.
He hadn't spoken a word, hadn't so much as made a sound. And Dumbledore knew that neither he, nor anyone here would be able to fix the broken boy. If Remus Lupin—who had grown so close to the boy since Sirius's death—couldn't get close to him, then things were dire indeed.
And Dumbledore had no doubts that Voldemort had been able to escape the destruction that Harry had wrought.
"Albus," Minerva McGonagall said softly. "What are we to do now? He doesn't even trust us!"
"Can you blame the boy?" Dumbledore asked softly. He glanced around at his Order of the Phoenix, seeing their distraught faces. "We're going to get him somewhere safe."
"He was taken from Hogwarts," Tonks said, her hair for once a normal straight black. "And what place is safer than that?"
"Somewhere out of the wizarding world," Dumbledore answered. He held up his hand, halting the startled exclamations as Harry scrambled back a few paces. "Quiet. I have to contact someone." And he tuned out those surrounding him.
'Charles? Charles, can you hear me?'
'Albus? Is that you, old friend?' The familiar mental voice answered happily.
'Charles, I need to ask a favor of you.' Albus knew how dangerous his favor was, but he was running out of options.
'And what would this favor be?'
Dumbledore sighed, blue eyes watching the boy. 'Could you take one of my students for me? Keep him safe?'
'Is this student a mutant?' Charles asked, sounding intrigued.
'No.' Albus could have chuckled at the feeling of his friend's shock and confusion, if the situation hadn't been so bleak. 'I believe you've heard of Harry Potter?'
'Ah, yes. I have. But didn't he go missing two months ago?'
'He was found…and not in good condition.' Albus sighed again. 'I've failed the boy too often. Far too often, Charles. I can't keep him safe.'
There was a long bout of silence. 'I'll send Storm, Phoenix, Cyclops and Wolverine to collect the boy Albus. We will do our best to keep him safe.'
'Thank you.'
Dumbledore turned back to his Order. "Friends are on their way. They will be able to keep Harry safe."
"Magic," Jean said as Scott landed the X-Jet in the gloomy graveyard outside a large mansion. "Somehow it just doesn't seem possible."
Ororo, rather, Storm, agreed, but was watching the two males with her. "You two don't seem very surprised."
Logan grunted. "I tend to not be surprised by anything, anymore."
Scott shrugged. "My cousin was a witch." He frowned. "And this boy, Harry Potter, is her son. They told me he died, fifteen years ago, when his parents, Lily and James were killed."
Jean looked up, surprised. "So, this boy, is a cousin of yours?"
"I suppose so," Scott murmured. "I was really close to Lily, despite the fact that she was ten years older than me. If I had known he was still alive…"
Logan had stilled at the mention of Lily Potter, his face slack, and his gaze distant. Scott glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and held back a sigh. It was possible, he admitted, but that would be a very, very large coincidence.
Logan shook his head, glancing up at the building with a small growl. "We goin' in or not?"
Scott smirked. "Yeah. Come on." And he headed inside, only to stop and raise an eyebrow at what he saw.
The place was practically painted with blood.
"Oh my," Storm murmured, looking around until her gaze fell on someone standing a little ways down the hall.
"You must be the friends that Albus mentioned," the young woman said, her hair rapidly changing colors. Storm would have thought it was a mutation had she not been told of metamorphmagi by Xavier. "I'm Tonks. Harry's this way."
"I'm Phoenix," Jean said softly, taking a few steps forward and motioning to her companions. "Cyclops, Storm and Wolverine."
Tonks nodded, not saying much, and led them down the hall. They entered the room and were surprised to see others there, all watching an entirely too thin boy sitting against the wall. An older man with a long, white beard turned and blinked in surprise. "Scott Summers?"
Scott nodded, his eyes on Harry. "Sir."
"They told me you were dead," Albus said faintly.
"Funny," Scott replied. "They told me the same about him," he said, motioning slightly towards Harry. Dumbledore said nothing, frowning, and then turned to look at the other X-Men, his eyes widening when they fell upon Logan. But he said nothing.
Storm and Jean went over to Albus to discuss exactly what it was they were protecting the boy from. Although, they had some idea considering the state of the Manor. Scott, however, was frowning, staring at the young man that was staring right back. Come here.
Startled, Scott took a small step forward. And then he moved until he was kneeling directly in front of the boy. Everyone in the room stopped and stared in apprehension as Harry reached out, fingers gently brushing the visor that Scott could never go without. And Harry gently removed it, Scott's eyes already closed to block the lasers that would destroy the frail boy in front of him.
Open your eyes.
The voice wasn't anything like Xavier's. It echoed, almost bouncing around his mind. But it didn't hurt. "I can't," he whispered, and the others began to wonder to whom he was replying. They hadn't heard a word.
Yes. You can.
There wasn't any doubt there. None. And so Scott opened his eyes, and wasn't really surprised when nothing happened. And his headache, although nowhere near the pain that had hit him earlier, was gone. He heard the gasps of his companions behind him, glancing back with clear blue eyes that those present had never had the opportunity to see. Both Storm and Jean looked to be in shock; Logan was busy staring at Remus Lupin. Scott returned his attention to the boy.
Logan took a step forward. "Do I know you?" he asked the werewolf, who was gazing at him sadly.
"You used to," Remus replied honestly, somehow knowing of Logan's amnesia. "Strange. When they couldn't find your body, no one thought that you might actually still be alive."
"You know who I used to be?" Logan asked, looking at Remus with such suspicion that Remus almost cringed.
"You used to be known as James Logan Howlett Potter," he whispered. Tilting his head to one side, he continued sadly, "But I can't tell you more than that. You have to find out on your own."
Logan blinked, glancing at the boy at the mention of the name Potter. "Were we friends?" he asked softly.
"The best," Remus smiled. It was a sad smile, though, and his amber eyes were watching Harry with such a heart-broken look that even Logan was moved. "Take care of our Cub, Wolverine," the werewolf whispered before turning from his friend and walking away.
Scott had gathered Harry into his arms by this point, lifting the boy with an ease that told of his lack of weight. He turned to the others, nodding to Dumbledore as his fellow X-Men stood, still in shock from seeing him without his visor, which was held tightly in Harry's grasp. "Time to go home."