Title: Winter Lights

Author: FlippythePenguin

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: AB/lots. HP/JS/A/N

Summary: Anita Blake has encountered several strange police cases over the years, but she has finally come to the strangest case she's ever had. A boy named Harry Potter, devastated from the death of his godfather, has been shoved into her world and in order to solve these murders, it may take the both of them to help save her world- and the magical world as well.

Warning: there will not be HBP in this fanfiction. Later on in the story, there is a possibility bits of the story line will be included, but right now it is only following up until the end of DOM. If you are offended by the pairings, which will be some slash, and also the many pairings that Hamilton has Anita with, please don't read any further. I will not write any lemons. And I also believe in writing characters the way the author has portrayed their POV's, so Anita will be in 1st person, and Harry in third. It's too weird to try changing it, it doesn't feel right once you start writing.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are property of J. K. Rowling and I am not trying to take any of her millions of dollars. The same applies to all of Laurel Hamilton's characters. The only character I own as of this chapter is Heather.

My beta is the lovely XattilaX-theMONKEY. Go love her :]

Update: 12-25-08

Chapter Three: Here We Go Again

I made sure the wizard was locked in Nathaniel's room before I could breath right again. I hadn't exactly been thinking straight when I decided to bash him like that, but I had needed to take action. He was just a kid, and I had never really understood kids. After all, when I was younger I had dead dogs crawling into bed with me. Normal kids didn't have to deal with crap like that.

Harry was, though, in denial- big time. What ever it was that the small boy had been taught had obviously been a lie- and he wasn't taking the news very well.

My lover, and part of another one of my confusing trimviuates, Damian, was currently guarding the young wizard. About five seconds after I had knocked him out, my vampire servant had walked into the kitchen looking as if he wasn't affected by the boy that lay unconscious in my arms. Which, of course, he wasn't.

Ever since I'd gotten the arduer under control I'd been having to eat a lot more to hold it off. Our unawares of this had almost caused Damian to die- more than once.

It wasn't something I was proud of.

Micah was standing besides Nathaniel, his face a blank mask. Caleb was curled up on one of the kitchen chairs, looking ready to cry. That alone was enough to put me on edge. Cherry and Zane were standing close to each other, both wearing identical looks as the one Micah wore. I couldn't read any of their expressions.

Jason walked forward, holding out the wand to me. I slowly took it from him, twirling it in my fingers. It seemed unreal that something so small was a conduct for so much destruction.

"Are you okay, Anita?" Micah murmured, and I turned to meet the eyes of my Nimir-Raj.

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm just going to call Jean-Claude. I think he needs to know about the kid."

"You said his name was Harry," Jason said.

I turned to stare at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

"You called him Harry earlier." Jason sounded almost annoyed.

"Yeah."

"So why do you call him 'kid' now?"

I think I looked at Jason so long that I blinked several times in stupor. Finally, I gathered my bearings and said, "Well, he is a kid." I gave one last twirl of the wand, and slipped it into my pocket.

Micah's hand took my own, and I looked at him. Our fingers entwined. "How old do you think our young house guest is?" Micah sounded rather cautious.

I shrugged. I was sort of confused. What did it matter how old the kid was? It wasn't our business. "Thirteen," I suggested. "Fourteen."

Micah shook his head. "I believe he is older than that."

"How so?" I demanded.

It wasn't Micah who answered me, though. It was Nathaniel. "Have you ever seen a malnourished child?"

I frowned. "I don't think so. Why?"

"I believe Harry was malnourished as a child, or even neglected. He did not like Jason touching him, or anyone else getting close to him."

"Well, yeah," I snorted. This was all ridiculous. "I'd be the same if I were him, considering he managed to poof out of thin air into my house!"

"We are his pard." Micah retaliated, but not in a cruel way. "He should have felt calm around us, but he did not."

I let this information sink in a moment. "Then how old do you think he is?"

Jason and Nathaniel exchanged glances. It was Jason who told me solemnly, "Sixteen, maybe seventeen."

"You're kidding," I said flatly, and the three shook their heads.

"If he had been younger, Caleb would have been in more trouble," Micah told me.

I shook my head, grabbing Jason's arm. "You're sure he's not a kid?"

Jason nodded, pushing his corn-silk colored hair away from his face so that his sky blue eyes peered down at me. "I'm sure," he said confidently. I let go of his arm.

"Could you tell Jean-Claude about Harry for me?" I asked. Jason watched me curiously, and nodded.

Nathaniel was watching me. "Where are you going?" He asked curiously as I turned around, ready to leave the room.

"Out," I said shortly.

"I will come with you," Nathaniel proclaimed, trailing after me. I froze, and whipped around to glare at him.

Two months ago, he would have cowered before me. Now, he simply smiled cheerfully. "Anita, what if the arduer rises?"

I scowled, searching for an excuse. "Damian might not be able to handle Harry."

"Anita, the young wereleopard will sleep for several more hours," Micah piped up. When I turned my glare at him, he raised his hands, smiling, as he ordered, "Go. Have fun with Nathaniel. There are many of us here, we can watch over Harry."

I turned to Zane and Cherry. The taller man looked steadily back. "You weren't planning on staying long," I told the couple with an accusing tone.

An eyebrow went up. "Plans change," he said easily.

I fixated a glare on Cherry.

"I'm with Zane," she answered.

I wasn't going to win this argument. I knew it, Micah knew it, Nathaniel knew it, Cherry and Zane knew it. Jason stood by me, looking clearly amused. Caleb continued to stare down at the table, silent. With a scowl, I whirled around and stomped down to the doorway, with Nathaniel at my heels. When I turned to look at him, he was holding out my coat to me.

I yanked it from his arms, and he flinched back. I slowly counted to ten in my head while shrugging into my jacket. Nathaniel did the same, handing me a scarf as he trailed after me out the door. I took the wand from my pocket, slipping it into the pocket on the inside of my jacket.

"Anita," he murmured when we got into the jeep. I looked at him. His eyes were focused directly at my face, his violet eyes bemused. "What are you going to do about the boy?"

I frowned. "Nothing yet," I admitted. It was the truth. I had no idea what to do about him. I had no experience with teenagers. My teenage years hadn't been something desired. How many kids had their dead dogs crawl into bed with them? Not many.

I pulled out of the driveway. Nathaniel looked thoughtful. "Do you think he's involved with the same case?" he asked.

Case? I turned to look at him, eyebrow raised, and said, "What are you talking about?"

"The case with the girl about six months ago," he explained. "Remember? You never found the suspects."

"This has nothing to do with Heather," I objected.

"They do have the same type of magic, right?" His eyebrows were furrowed.

"Well...yeah," I admitted slowly, my mind reeling. Heather had been in St. Louis and was attacked, and now Harry had been attacked. Perhaps... "Maybe their magic attracts something in our beasts."

Nathaniel nodded. "When I saw him," meaning Harry, "Something made me gravitate towards him."

"Gravitate?"

"Drew me in. It was like I had no choice."

"No, I know what gravitate means, I was just thinking out loud," I told him.

"Anita! Turn left on the next light!" Nathaniel said.

"For what?" I asked, but I complied to his demands either way.

"You'll see," he replied, and out of the corner of my eye I could see a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I bit back a growl, and Nathaniel's eyes slid to mine. It was almost as if he knew that I was restraining myself. I hated that more than I hated how I had no idea where we were going or what he had planned. I hate that more than I hated that some kid was knocked out cold in my house. Okay, maybe not more than that. But it was pretty close.

As the cars and streets sped by, I slowly allowed myself to lose myself into the case. Heather's case had gone unsolved- and now I knew that this boy, Harry, knew her. I couldn't help but explore the possibility that perhaps there wasn't a case here. Maybe there were forces going on beyond my control, and beyond the control of the police department.

All evidence of Heather's case had gone missing several days after she had been found and hospitalized. Two days after her release, the files and blood works on the evidence went missing. The police had gone nuts, how could they solve a case without evidence?

Eventually it was dropped altogether.

With a frown, I thrummed my fingers on the steering wheel. Even six months later, that failed case lay heavy on my mind. I remained out of the life of Heather Muldoon after I had not been able to find enough supporting evidence to find her would-be murderers. No matter how much I hated it, somewhere in the world those same vampires were probably ready to kill again- or already have- and we just didn't know it.

Heather had just smiled after we told her we couldn't solve the case, thanked us for our hard work, and she'd left, closing the door with her maimed hand and never looked back.

I had wondered what had happened to the girl with the missing finger. I had wondered about what her friends would say when they saw her, what her parents and little brother would say. She had been in the newspaper, and I had heard whispers at crime scenes. Everyone wondered where she had disappeared to.

She had been sent for four months after the case. They found nothing. Her parents had been tightlipped, and had told them coolly the she was at boarding school.

Possibly, only myself and Tammy knew that she was a witch.

"We're here," Nathaniel's voice broke through my revere, and I blinked myself back into focus, turning in the direction he pointed.

A small coffee shop. That was where he had directed me to, and as I parked the car, I took his hand gently in both of mine.

The smile he gave me was worth it.

We found our seats relatively easily. Nathaniel ordered us both coffee, and played with my fingers as he softly told me about some joke Jason had tried to play on one of the newer strippers at Guilty Pleasures.

As I sipped on my coffee, my cell phone went off.

Nathaniel froze automatically, and looked to me uncertainly. I quickly grabbed it and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Anita? This is Dolph."

"What do you want?" I asked crossly.

"We have a crime scene, really strange one," Dolph said, and I could hear the frustration in his voice.

"Strange in what sense?"

"You're the expert, Blake!"

"Right. Give me the address and we'll be there."

I quickly jotted down the address onto a napkin, and tensed at Dolph's next words.

"We?" Dolph asked.

"Yeah, I'm out on a date with Nathaniel," I said slowly.

"He can't come."

"Can so. It's an emergency."

Dolph growled, his impatience getting the better of him. "Fine! Just get here soon, Blake." He then proceeded to promptly hang up on me.

I scowled down at my cell before flipping it shut. Nathaniel took one look at my face, and raised his hand.

"Check, please!"

"I thought you said it was an emergency," I said, staring up at the sky over the house. I fiddled with my shirt for a moment, straightening it, before turning to look at Nathaniel. The wereleopard was staring at the house with an unfathomable expression on his face.

The wereleopard, I admitted to myself, was insanely beautiful. His long auburn hair was twisted into a long braid that was longer then my hair had ever been in my life. When his violet eyes turned to look at me, I was once again struck by just how beautiful he truly was.

"Can you smell blood?" I asked, rather gruffly, trying to shake away my thoughts and put my job back on my mind. I looked towards the house thoughtfully.

When I turned to look at Nathaniel, he gave a helpless sort of shrug.

Dolph shook his head, look mystified. "There is no blood," he said, as he headed up towards the house. I could easily spot his grimace.

"I get the feeling it's crazy on the inside," Nathaniel said.

"You too?" I said, voice tinted dangerously with sarcasm. I marched after Dolph, who conversed briefly with a rookie guarding the entrance. Nathaniel followed after us, his eyes weary.

The rookie guarding the door shot him a rather distrustful look, but looked away when I glared at him.

"It's too early for this shit," I grumbled.

"Ah, you look a bit tired," A rather cheerful voice said, and Zebrowski strolled over, looking as calm as a whistle.

"Hey Anita," He grinned.

"Hello, thorn in my side," I snapped, and gruffly brushed by the irritable man. Nathaniel's fingers trailed across my elbow, and when I turned to glare at him, his eyes were cautious.

"Something doesn't feel right," he said quietly.

I turned to look at Dolph for conformation.

The tall man was glaring at Nathaniel as he answered, "Something isn't right. We have a body with no signs of how she was killed."

I frowned. "Then why would I be called in for a case like this? I don't do this work."

Dolph was scowling. "You got called in, Blake, because Tammy requested you be here."

I stared at Dolph, startled, and turned to look at Nathaniel. He looked as puzzled as I felt. "Where is she?" I finally asked.

Dolph jerked his head in the direction of the house. "Inside." He sounded gruff, and rather annoyed.

I pushed by him, and Nathaniel scurried after me. I slid easily by a couple rookies posted outside what had to be the room that the body was in. I tried to peak in, assuming Tammy was inside the room, but one of the rookies slid in front of me.

"Sorry, miss. Nobody can go through."

I glared up at him. "I'm a federal marshal!"

He looked uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry, miss."

"Blake," Dolph said from behind me, and I turned to look at the tall man. "Tammy's over this way, in the kitchen."

"Right," I agreed, and stomped away from the crime scene.

When I entered the room, I immediately noticed Tammy. She was standing by a little table, with another woman who was fingerprinting a overturned mug

"Hey Tammy," I greeted. She looked up at me, and I could see that she was green. "Aw, shit. You okay?" I asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine."

I studied her face for another moment, before turning to exchanged a look with Nathaniel. The wereleopard was studying Tammy, curiosity sketched into his lilac eyes.

"Let's go outside," she said quietly, and hurried by with her shoulders hunched over. We followed silently. As soon as we moved beyond the premise of the police cars, I spoke.

"Alright, so why did you want to talk to me Tammy?" I asked.

The American-bred witch looked suddenly very weary. She sighed. "It's about the case.." She trailed off.

"Well, what about it? We haven't seen the crime scene yet, and nobody's been offering any information."

Tammy's eyes flickered towards Nathaniel, then she cleared her throat. "I think that this case related to the one six months ago. The one with the girl who got her finger cut off."

"You mean Heather," I said. Tammy nodded, looking uncomfortable. Her eyes flickering towards Nathaniel once again.

"If you have anything to say in front of me, you can say it in front of Nathaniel," I said coolly.

Her eyes flashed back to me, and she opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off.

"No, Tammy. He's with me."

She stared back at me, and whatever she saw in my eyes made her turn away. She took a deep breath, and faced me again.

"It has to do with the society Heather lives in," Tammy said.

"How so?" I asked.

Tammy looked uncomfortable, and twisted her fingers through her hair. "There's a war going on. One that's been going on for many years, and even with brief periods of peace, we've entered the ending of that peace."

"What war?" Nathaniel asked, his head tilted with a look of curiosity. But his eyes looked guarded.

Tammy ran a hand through her hair, and she started to blush slightly. "It sounds really cliché."

"Just tell me!" I practically growled.

"Its war between good and evil."

There was a moment of silence, and I said incredulously, "You expect me to believe this shit?"

"You must," Tammy said softly. "Because if you don't, you won't understand."

"Anita," Nathaniel said. "At least hear her out."

I glanced at my auburn haired lover, then sighed. "Explain then. Quickly."

Tammy glanced around, and said in a extremely soft voice. "It began over twenty years ago, in Europe. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came into power. He wanted to destroy all muggles, completely. The mu-"

"Muggles?" I interrupted. "What's a muggle?"

"A non-magical person," Tammy brushed off my words, and tried to plow on. "Muggles had no way-"

"But why are they called muggles?" I demanded.

Tammy looked at me with exasperation. "I don't know! They just are! Can I continue?"

"Yes," I said sullenly.

"The muggles had no way of knowing. After the fall of Grindlewald, a evil wizard, during the second World War, they hoped for some period of peace. In the late 70's, a new Dark Lord rose."

"Grindlewald was a Dark Lord?" Nathaniel guessed.

"Correct," Tammy confirmed. "But this new Dark Lord was much more terrifying. He had much more power then the previous Dark Lord, and because of this the Wizarding World was thrown into chaos. It was rumored that secret societies were formed, to try to keep You-Know-Who at bay."

"I don't know who?" I said, confused.

Tammy blushed. "I can't say his name."

"Why not?" I demanded. "It's just a name."

"And his name alone caused terror throughout England. He killed hundreds of families with his Death Eaters." She paused and added, "His followers." when I opened my mouth.

"In 1981, he tried to go after a family called the Potters. The Potters were an old family, almost completely pure. The heir to the Potter family, James Potter, married a muggle-born witch. They had a child together, and that child was a half-blood."

"That baby destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry kicked the door, scowling. How did he always get into these situations? Remus had warned Harry that St Louis was an attraction for trouble, but now he wished he had gotten more information before wandering off into America. Hermione had attempted to talk to Harry about his choices, but instead he had run from her.

Thinking about it now, he yearned to talk to the girl.

A knock rung throughout the room, and Harry turned to look at the door as Micah peeked in.

"Harry," he greeted with a little smile, and Harry's glare notched up. Micah was apparently taken back by Harry's anger, but he ignored it as he causally strolled over to the bed. Harry watched him appealingly- he walked so lightly that it appeared as if he floated. He was sort of jealous. If he could walk like that, he could sneak up on Voldemort...

No. He couldn't let his thoughts wander so much.

Micah was sitting on the bed, watching him through large, lazy eyes. His legs were folded, his back arched, a small smile on his face...

Harry caught himself staring, and looked away with a blush.

If Micah had noticed his wandering eyes, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked, "Do you intend to harm anyone in this household?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Depends," he offered in an offhand manner, sliding to the floor.

Micah rose to his feet, staring down at him. Harry watched him from his spot on the floor. Normally he hated to be lower than those he couldn't trust but for some reason he didn't feel the compulsion to prove himself.

Rather, he felt more like sinking lower onto the floor, he longed for Micah's approval, he wanted his approval so badly that it controlled his every single thought, Micah was powerful, Merlin, he was so powerful...

"Harry, calm down." Micah's voice drifted over him soothingly.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry scowled, struggling to calm his heart. What was wrong with him?

"Harry," The man said. Harry slowly looked up into the cat-like eyes. Micah crouched low next to him, and Harry resisted the urge to crawl closer. Instead, he cradled him arms to his chest, and slowly rose to his knees. Micah held out a hand, which Harry took, and helped him to his feet.

For some odd reason, he found it amusing that he was the same height as Micah.

"Do you intend to harm anyone in this household?" Micah repeated his previous question.

Locking his eyes with the man took almost all of Harry's will and better judgment. But he knew nothing could be worse than what he'd gone through the previous year in the Department of Mysteries against Voldemort. Some American with weird eyes wasn't going to intimidate him.

At least, he hoped not.

Taking a deep breathe, Harry said quietly, "I will not harm anyone here unless they try to hurt me."

Micah watched him closely, and Harry got that weird vibe like he was trying to read his very soul. Or at least something close to it.

Whatever Micah saw must have pleased him though, because the man nodded slowly. "Nobody will hurt you."

Eyeing him, Harry said slowly, "And...how do I know if I can trust you?"

"We are Pard." Micah replied.

"Yeah," Harry snapped. "What does it entitle?"

Micah's eyes narrowed on his face, his eyes boring into Harry's. The wizard shivered. The way those cat-like eyes studied him now, it made him feel as if the man was trying to read Harry's mind. Not in the way Snape had practically teared his mind apart- no, not at all. More in a way that was like socks on ice rather than bare feet on needles.

"Do you know anything about weres?"

"Werewolves," Harry said promptly. "Didn't I say my godfathers a werewolf?"

Micah nodded slowly. "What did you mean by he has no Ulfric?"

Harry sighed. Remus had never mentioned that word before, and he had grilled him many times on what it was like to be a werewolf. He could tell that talking about his lycanthropy had hurt the older man, but Harry needed to know the information. There were wolves on Voldemort's side, after all, and Harry needed to be prepared.

"I'd rather not say," Harry said coolly, and he slid back to his previous position against the wall.

Micah appraised him for a moment, his strange eyes studying him with an unfathomable look.

"Alright," the man agreed after a moment. "So you know nothing of what you are?"

"No," Harry replied, fighting back the urge to scowl. "I don't."

"Is there anything you want to know?"

Harry scowled furiously. "Bloody Hell, I'm on the opposite side of the globe, I'm worlds away from my society and my friends and family! And I have a woman cop that's way to trigger happy, smacking guns around, and weird men claiming that there is such things as wereleopards! Of course there is stuff I want to know!" Harry paused to catch his breath, and let himself slump against the wall.

Micah knelt slightly in front of him. Harry refused, at first, to meet those strange eyes. But he found it harder to ignore the presence of the man, and so when his green eyes clashed with the animalistic eyes, he had expected to feel that unexplainable urge to prove himself.

He didn't, though. Rather, with Micah more at his level, and looking at him straight in the face, Harry felt more at home then ever before. Something in him, that part of him that guided him through the years and kept him safe, liked this man. This 'wereleopard'.

"Then ask."

"I don't know where to begin," Harry mumbled.

A small, weary smile brushed Micah's lips. For an instant, Harry could see pieces of Remus in this man. Pieces of Sirius Black. For an instant, Harry thought he could see the weight of the world on the shoulders of one man, and found he understand that weight far more then he should.

"I am the leader of my Pard. Anita is, also. Together we rule as Nimir-Ra and Nimir-Raj. The one who bit you was Caleb."

"Caleb," Harry murmured, storing that name into his mind for a later time.

"We will know for sure if you are a wereleopard when the next full moon comes."

Harry jerked his head up, startled. "But that's in two weeks!" he blurted.

Micah smiled inquiringly. "Yes?"

"I can't stay here that long! I have to get back home, back to school!"

The smile dimmed, and Harry almost shrunk away. "No, Harry. You will be staying with us. I won't risk it. If you were to transform, what then? Would you kill innocent people?"

Harry's stomach churned at the thought. He could picture the night Remus almost made a snack out of him. That, the first day Harry truly talked to Sirius, talked for only a half hour at the most and already agreed to live with him, wanted to run away from everything, wanted desperately for Sirius to be the father figure he had despairingly wished for as a child-

He felt sick.

"I don't want that to happen," he said softly, pushing away the memories.

"I didn't think you would."

Harry briefly shut his eyes, and let his magic wash over him. He knew nothing about this world, and being tense and angry was causing his magic to ripple dangerously like Voldemort's. It was uncomfortable and only put him more on edge, and when he felt the chill of death standing just beyond the door he reacted violently.

He shot to his feet, and immediately felt his magic hiss and rumble around as a separate entity in the air around him. Micah jumped backwards.

"Harry. Calm down," Micah instructed.

Still in panic, his magic wild, Harry hissed, "What is this I feel?"

"I don't understand!"

"This death, it's nearby!"

"Death?" Micah looked at the doorway and back, understanding dawning on his face. "You must mean Damian."

"Damian?"

"He's a vampire."

Harry's mouth dropped open, and he choked on his tongue. He gargled, "Va-Vampire?"

Micah nodded. "He lives in this house, with Anita, Nathaniel and I."

"Lives here? Where, in the basement?" Harry nearly giggled at the thought. A vampire living in a basement, what next? Ron had a ghoul living in his attic.

His magic was drawing in, now that he was gaining control of his emotions. It was still a separate entity as it thrummed just on the surface of his skin, still on edge but definitely more controllable.

"Actually, yes." Micah appeared amused.

Harry blinked. "Oh."

"Now, whereabouts do you live?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest."

"Will your parents be missing you?"

Harry's expression darkened. "Haven't got any of those. I've a house that they left me. That's where I'm staying during the duration of my stay in America."

"I see. . ." Micah looked at the door behind him, then back towards the young man. "Well, how about we try to find your house so you can gather your belongings, and you can stay with us until the full moon?"

"And. . . afterwards?" Harry asked slowly. "If I do transform into this supposed leopard?"

Micah smiled crookedly, in such a fashion that Harry had seen Sirius do countless times. A stab of pain wormed it's way through to his heart, and Harry quickly blocked the emotion.

"We'll worry about that when the time comes."

Micah took several steady steps towards the door, and knocked. "Damian, let us out."

The door creaked slowly open. Curiously, Harry squinted his eyes through the small crack. He caught a glimpse of red, but when Micah opened the door fully, there was nobody present.

"Come along, Harry," Micah called from the hall. "We're going to find your house. You can do magic, can you not?"

"Yeah. . ." Harry said, suspicion curling in his gut.

"Well, can you use this to find your house?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. We can take Jason's car, then."

Harry started to nod, and froze halfway through the doorway. When Micah cast him an inquiring glance, Harry couldn't help but to smile sheepishly.

"I need my wand for that."

Micah sighed. "And Anita took it with her. I guess we're waiting, then."

Harry nodded, and took a huge sigh before following after the small strange eyed man, as it suddenly dawned on him that his life was about to drastically change.

Again.