Kailor: Warning! Introducing a few OCs here. DO NOT FEAR, OC HATERS. They are all there for a reason but only a few will do more than be mentioned in passing. And to answer the reviewer who feared Harry would become OC: I thought long and hard how to make sure Harry stayed the same boy despite his changed environment and hair color. Oh, and I did go read Harry McGonagall and Harry Potter McGonagall. Good story indeed. The beginnings are similar. Now, please enjoy chap 2!

Dumbledore made his way to Minerva McGonagall's office. When she answered the door, she raised an eyebrow. "Albus? It is nearly midnight. This is most irregular."

"As was the visit I just received, Minerva. May I come in?"

"Of course."

He briefly outlined the meeting he'd just had with the Minister of Magic. "It is true, what he said. I sent an old friend, Arabella Figg, to live near the Dursleys. She was going to keep an eye on young Harry, make sure he grew up happy. She reported to me this morning and said that the Dursleys never got him. When she saw no sign of him at the house after a week, she paid a visit to Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They were quite confused and sent her away, telling her they wanted nothing to do with her "nonsense" and that, had he shown up on their step, he would have been shipped straight to an orphanage. I've no idea how the Ministry found out, but Cornelius tells me that he won't be able to keep it quiet that Harry is gone. By morning, when the Daily Prophet is delivered, our world will know." While he talked, he watched her carefully.

McGonagall seemed quite distraught that Harry was missing. Her normally stern face was replaced by misty eyes and a slack jawed expression he'd never seen on her before. After a moment of mouthing wordlessly, she drew herself up, closing her mouth. "I told you, Albus. I told you it was a mistake to leave him there! Though now I'm not certain if I'd rather him be with those wretched muggles or not, because Merlin knows where he could be. What if You-Know-Who's followers got him? He could be dead! Or worse, being raised by them! Oh, Albus. What have we done?" Now she was fully crying.

He was already convinced she knew nothing of Harry's disappearance-she had never gone against his wishes before. But he had to ask. "Minerva, I'm afraid I must ask you if you know anything of where Harry may be?"

He watched that famous Scottish temper build behind her square spectacles. Her face grew red and she stood, near trembling with rage. It was very rare that her lips became so thin that he could hardly see them. "Albus Dumbledore, how dare you accuse me of having something to do with this. I admit that I did think about taking the boy myself. I knew he would have a bad job of it growing up with those people. They gave me the most horrid feeling. But I did not take him. I left him there, just as you did." Her lip quivered and she looked away. "Oh, Merlin, I left him there. This is my fault as much as it is yours."

Dumbledore rose to comfort her but she backed up, putting her desk between them and shaking her head. "No, Albus. I think you should go. I need to be alone."

So he left, regretting having asked her anything. He had doubted that she would go against him like that and he had heard the truth in her voice when she said she hadn't taken Harry. A quick glance into her mind had completely confirmed it and now he just felt bad for upsetting the normally calm Transfiguration teacher. He made his way back to his office, planning out the best places to hunt for the Boy-Who-Lived.

By the next day, the Magical World was in an uproar. Despite Albus Dumbledore's wishes, word spread very quickly that Harry Potter, their savior, was gone. The Daily Prophet was filled with theories, as was each person who popped into the Leaky Cauldron or passed through Hogsmeade. Diagon Alley buzzed with possibilities of what caused his disappearance. All of wizarding Britain was searching for him. It didn't take long for two theories to become the main beliefs of the people: one, that Harry had been taken by Voldemort's followers and killed to avenge their fallen lord or was being raised by one of them. The second, and more believed story, was that Harry Potter had gone into hiding. Where he was hiding, and with who, differed with each person who related the tale. Some said he was at Hogwarts, hidden away until he was old enough to attend. A few said Remus Lupin, a known friend of James and Lily, had him and was raising him far out in the countryside. Others believed he had American relatives who had whisked him across the ocean to a place far from Voldemort. Still more were sure that the Ministry had moved him somewhere safe.

But not a single person thought to look at the little castle and its tiny island on the edge of Scotland. So Castle Stalker sat undisturbed as ever. And the Boy-Who-Lived...well...

XXXXXXX

He winced, the rough stone beneath his palms digging into his skin. Grasping for some kind of hold, his fingertips found a small ledge, aching as they wrapped around the small protrusion of rock. The trembling in his right leg was starting to spread and he knew it wasn't from the cold wind coming off the sea. He moved his right foot from its small toehold to a higher space in the rocks, hoping that would ease the strain. For a moment, his foot slid and he hissed, pulling his weight back onto his hands. He glanced down.

Below him, the castle wall stretched down to green grass and the grass sloped away from him, to the loch. The grass below barely stirred, but up where he hung the wind tugged at his body. He quickly looked back at the wall in front of him. He wasn't that far from the ground. The bit of wall he was climbing was the outside, and tallest part, of the stone forestair on the north-east wall of Castle Stalker. But it would still hurt a lot if he fell. Using his outstretched arm, he pushed his glasses back up and wiped the red and gold strands of his hair from his eyes.

"Alright down there, brother?"

He looked up. Clinging to the wall not far to his right was his twin sister. She had the same wild hair, the same length, the same cut, and the same mixture of red and blonde. Their faces were very similar, though she had a thin white scar across the bridge of her nose from when they were small. Her honey-gold eyes, so different from his green ones, were on him, though they kept glancing at the ground. He almost laughed at the sight of her pressed flat against the wall, still as she could be. "I'm fine. You okay?"

"Pssh. Tip-top, lad. Spiffy. Wonderful. Jolly good. Simply corking."

"Are you stuck?"

"You know I'm too short to reach some of these damn holds, Harry."

He did laugh then. He watched as she shifted, hanging by one hand and a foot for a moment as she scrambled her way up another few inches. "There you g-"

"HARRY CONALL LACHLAN!"

He winced, nearly letting go of the wall. His mother usually called him Anrai, the Gaelic form of his name. But when she was really angry, his full name would come out. Together, he and his sister looked down. Below them was his mother, her bright red hair clashing with the green grass. He wasn't surprised to see her hands on her hips: her usual stance when she was about to let one of her children have it.

"AND I SEE YOU TOO, VEN CERYS!"

Ven whistled in appreciation for how much trouble they were in. Putting on a winning smile, she said, "Oh man. Those who are about to die salute you." She let go of the wall long enough to give Harry a small salute. Then she was off, climbing faster than before. Harry forced his aching limbs to follow. Within a minute he had reached the top of the staircase wall and pulled himself over the edge, groaning as the weight lifted from his tired muscles. Ven was already on the landing at the top of the stairs, lying completely limp, facedown. The only thing that told him she was alive was her moans of agony. He collapsed beside her, trying to catch his breath. But it was not to be.

"Well, you two look tired." His mother had appeared beside them with a small pop. With her foot, she pushed Ven over onto her back.

The girl focused on their mother like she had just noticed her. "Oh, hi Mum!"

"Hello, dear. How are your arms?"

"Dead. They can barely move at all," Ven moaned. "It's like we're already being punished for how foolish we were." She lifted her head to glare at Harry.

"Oh," he said, catching on. "Yeah. Hurts. Loads."

"My poor children," their mother sighed. "I feel so bad for you. May I ask what you were doing hanging from the outside wall of the castle?"

Harry sat up, trying to flex his fingers. "We're really sorry, Mum. We've been trying to climb the wall for months now. We thought it would be good exercise." This was mostly true. He didn't tell her they had decided not to do it at one point, but their brother, Leith, had dared them to go through with it.

Ven's head thunked back down to the stone. "What he said."

Faolan Lachlan stared from one kid to the other. "If you're really sorry...and promise never to do something so dangerous again...I guess I can overlook this..."

"We promise," the children chorused.

"And we really are," Harry added for good measure.

Faolan reached out, smoothing his hair from his forehead. "Alright. What really matters is that no one was hurt." She watched the two of them nod fervently. "That means you're okay to scrub down the floors of the Great Hall tonight. Come along."

"Mum, no! Come on!" Ven said. "I can't even move my arms. Look!" She flopped like a fish, throwing in a few winces and groans for effect.

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

That got Ven up. She and Harry followed Faolan down the keep stairs to the ground floor door, across the courtyard, and into the Great Hall.

Their father was sitting at the large round table in the center of the room. "You found them?"

"Yes, Lyall," Faolan said, kissing her husband. "Right where Leith said they would be."

Harry and Ven exchanged an outraged glance. The little brat had sold them out! They would have to return the favor later on.

Faolan waved a hand at them. "Go fetch the others. It's nearly dinner time."

XXXXXXX

As Ven and Harry left, Lyall laughed. "Those two. I swear they're going to give Hogwarts hell when they get there."

"If they make it that far," Faolan huffed. "They're ten years old and climbing the castle wall! By Dagda's antlers, I almost had a heartattack just spotting them."

Lyall didn't reply right away. His eyes had slipped out of focus and he was staring after the children, biting his lip. Faolan took the chair beside him. She slipped her hands into his. "Lyall, what are you thinking?"

The blonde's attention returned to his gorgeous wife. He sighed. "Just thinking...we should tell him."

Only his Faolan could make a frown look beautiful. "I thought we said we would wait until after his first year. You know Dumbledore-"

"I know. But it just feels...unfair to send him in not knowing who he is." Lyall shook his head. "I just have a bad feeling about it." He squeezed her hands.

Faolan squeezed back, her soft brow crinkling with concern. "I know, love. But if anyone finds out..."

Lyall shook his head. He knew she was right. It didn't stop him from worrying though. "Right. Well, if we aren't going to tell him, then we need to train him up a bit."

"What do you mean? He can't do magic away from school."

"Doesn't mean we can't give him, and the others, a bit of tutoring beforehand. And physical training can be just as vital as knowledge. When I was an Auror it was part of our job description to be in top physical shape." His lip curled. "That's changed from what I saw last time I visited the Ministry. But the fact is, I want my children prepared for anything. I saw Hagrid in Hogsmeade a couple weeks ago and we got around to talking about Voldemort. According to him, even Dumbledore thinks the bastard is still out there somewhere. If anyone were to find out who Harry is... Well this is something I've been thinking about since Albion got his letter last year."

Faolan sighed. "Fine, Lyall. We'll train them. Starting tomorrow. We'll tell them it's for their health. Does that ease your mind?"

Lyall smiled. "Not really. But a kiss would." He leaned in and stole one from his grinning wife. When he pulled back his eyes narrowed. "The castle wall, it was? That they were climbing?"

XXXXXXX

The island that Castle Stalker sat on was shaped like an "L", with the bottom half of the "L" being lower than the top half. At the top of the "L" was the castle. At it's other end was the place they called The Point. Where the island turned they had dubbed the two shores on either side the Inner Bend and the Outer Bend. Ven and Harry headed straight for the Inner Bend, thinking they would find at least one of their siblings at the family's favorite fishing spot.

Harry glanced at the mainland, spotting the ward stones in the shallows of the opposite shore. The wards were what kept muggles from paying too close attention to the island or castle and they also kept other wizards or witches from entering without permission.

At the Inner Bend, the trees grew thick, overshadowing the small cove in the crook of the island. There they found Llyr sitting on a large rock and watching the water. Llyr was the same age as them. He'd been adopted just after Harry and Ven's first birthday. He had dirty blonde hair, like their father, that he kept up in a small ponytail. He was the smallest of the boys in the family, even smaller than Harry. He turned dark blue eyes on them as they approached.

"Hey, Llyr. Where's Albion?" Ven said. Albion was the oldest child, adopted at the same time as Llyr.

Llyr pointed to the water, then held his hands up like he was tossing a line out.

"He's fishing?" Harry confirmed.

Llyr shifted his body from one side to the other, pursing his lips. Then he held one hand out flat, palm down and pressed the first two fingers of his other hand against it. He then wiggled his bottom hand away and down toward the ground.

"Or he's drowning," Ven laughed. She hopped down to the water and leaned over it. "Mum will be thrilled. Two children climbing the castle walls. One drowning. The other murdered, once we find Leith."

Harry nodded. "And you know what tonight is."

Ven made a face at him. "Don't remind me." She turned back to the water to find a pair of dark eyes staring back at her. With a yelp, she slipped backwards on the rocks and ended up on her rear. Albion lifted himself from the water as Harry and Llyr laughed. He was Llyr's direct opposite, with his black hair, black eyes, and darkly tanned skin. Where Llyr was the smallest, Albion was the largest. Even at eleven, his chest and shoulders were well on the way to being as broad as their father's.

"Hi, Ven," he said, stepping on shore. He placed a wicker basket at his feet and began to wring out his shirt. "You look surprised."

"I hate you so much."

"Oh, my broken heart." Albion said. Flipping the lid off his basket, he revealed a small pile of still flopping fish.

"Nice haul," Harry said. "Dinner for tomorrow?"

Albion nodded, smiling. Since Lyall had taught him to fish, Albion had spent hours each day doing so. Harry knew he was very proud of himself for each basket he brought home, though he would never say it.

"Have you guys seen the others?" Harry said, remembering why they were there.

Albion pointed to the other end of the island. "Lee and Aurelia were down at The Point earlier. I think Leith is back at the castle, hiding. He told Mum and Da where you guys were going to be today."

"We know," Harry and Ven said together.

"And Anwen. Well," he shrugged. They all knew Anwen, the last of the adopted siblings, could be anywhere.

Llyr pointed toward the Outer Bend. She was there earlier, he signed.

"Could you try to find her? We'll go get the girls at The Point. Leith can hide a little longer." Harry said.

At The Point they found Lee and Aurelia. Lee, the only girl without red hair, looked more like Albion with her short black hair. But her eyes were an intensely bright blue. She was sitting on a log, playing her harp. Aurelia, the youngest child, was seated at her feet, listening. Young Aurelia had their mother's bright red hair and their father's gray eyes. When she saw Ven those eyes lit up and she leapt to her feet. Ven groaned as the younger girl launched into a series of questions. Harry smiled at the seven year old bouncing around his twin.

The four of them hiked back to the castle. Llyr, Albion, and Leith were already at the table when they entered. Leith, the youngest son, was a stocky boy with Lyall's hair and eyes, but none of their father's softness. His hair was shorter and spiked up and he was loud, impulsive, and aggravating at the best of times. When Ven and Harry entered, he smirked at them.

Harry took his seat at the table. "Hey, Leith, you've got something on your face there. Looks like a death wish. Want us to help you with that?" he said. Beside him, Ven carefully studied her dinner knife, testing its sharpness. Leith paled.

"Now, now. Death after dinner, children." Faolan said, placing a plate in front of Ven. Next to it she sat a smoking goblet. Ven grimaced. Her mother noticed and said, "You know the drill. Drink it."

"Yes, Mum," Ven huffed.

Faolan handed similar goblets to Albion, Leith, and their father. Harry watched his sister choke down the potion, laughing at the faces she pulled.

When Lyall had downed his drink, he shivered and cleared his throat. "Alright, kids. Listen up. As you know, it's nearly July. Next month we'll be going to Diagon Alley with Albion and the three of you starting Hogwarts this year. The rest of you will stay here with-"

"No! Not him again!" Leith complained. "He hexed me last year for not announcing myself when I entered the room!"

"That'll teach you, won't it?" Lyall said. "Yes, your uncle will be here again. But what I was going to say is tomorrow we're going to start all of you on training. It will do us all good to get in shape." He ignored the groans from the gathered children.

Faolan silenced them with a simple cock of her eyebrow and they set into eating dinner. At some point their last sibling wandered in. Anwen's dark red hair was filled with flowers and her hazel eyes were painted with what looked like blackberry juice. She hummed as she sat down and Faolan placed a plate before her. No one commented on her appearance. Once the table was cleaned off, Harry and Ven were given a large bucket of soapy water and they set to work on the Hall's floor.

They had barely finished when Faolan returned. "Ven, it's time. Anrai, dear, if you could take her clothes up to your room?"

He turned away politely as Ven stripped down to her underclothes and thrust her over shirt and pants into his arms. As his mother and sister headed to the courtyard, Harry climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. He loved their room. It was the largest, since they shared, and it looked down on the courtyard on one side and the loch on the other. Harry put away Ven's clothes and moved to the window. Down below he watched the dark figures of his da, Ven, Albion, and Leith moving to the center of the courtyard. Faolan stood at the gate, prepared to open it. He glanced up, seeing the clouds slowly shift to reveal the full moon. In the courtyard his siblings were doubled over. Lyall stood still, though his entire body was shaking. In the moonlight he watched them change. Their faces grew, stretching out and darkening as their fur sprouted. Ven's undershirt ripped, hitting the ground. A few more moments and where his family had been were three wolf cubs and a full-grown wolf. The larger wolf led his cubs to the gate, guiding them with a growl and a bark. Faolan pushed the door open, watching the cubs race through. She petted the large wolf's head before he joined the pups. Harry watched until she closed the gate, then turned to get dressed for bed.

Sometimes he wished he were down there with his twin. Then again, it was nice having the bed to himself. He took advantage of this by stretching out across it, covering every inch his small, ten year old frame could cover. He fell asleep to the soft whisper of the loch and distant howls.

Kailor: As always, reviews are loved and appreciated. And good job to those of you who guessed what Lyall was!