Harry was ready to scream in frustration, it wasn't Quatre's fault, not really, but honestly they were like conjoined twins, where one went the other was sure to be there as well, don't get him wrong Harry liked Trowa, he was good enough for his brother, didn't mean he wasn't going to tell him to make an honest man out of Quatre though, later.

Right now he was trying to figure out how to get him out of the kitchen. Harry knew that Quatre would tell him, and the others, but Harry wasn't ready to face their reactions yet, Heero's wide stare, coupled with Zechs' gaping mouth, WuFei's questions, Trowa's soft comforts, but mostly Harry wasn't prepared to take the jokes Duo was sure to crack at him.

Harry wanted to tell Quatre, and then hide out in the big tree that was in the back yard, it was where he went to sleep when the forest of his room wasn't real enough. Harry knew he didn't look nervous and that was a hard won skill that he'd learned in the war. After Ginny, Hermione, and Ron had stopped being friends with him, it seemed to give his 'Allies' leave to test his abilities. He hadn't even been safe in his own camp. Only three had stood by him, Sirius, Remus, and Snape, they had laid their rivalry and hate on the ground for him.

There were times he flinched around the others because they were soldiers, and it didn't matter that they hadn't been for two years they still had soldier mannerisms, it was only the way they moved when interacting with people that Harry remembered that much of their fighting had been done with machines, controlled by humans, yes, but there had still been separation between them and their enemies.

He really ought to tell the about his war, before they found out he freaked at the sight of blood in normal situations, he was calm and cool under pressure, had to be, he had more blood on his hands then the others could claim, had felt it spill from the wounds, a Cutting curse, felt it spill over his hands, hadn't been able to keep Draco alive for Snape. He had lost so many like that, it hadn't matter that he was a child, he was the leader of the force against Tom, and every thing was his fault. By the time he was getting ready to end the war, he didn't care who was on what side, and if they had a chance he took them to Snape, secretly, of course.

Harry blew hair out of his eyes.

"Harry?" Trowa asked from next to him, Quatre was fetching something from the pantry.

"Yes, Trowa?" Harry returned not looking up from where he was stirring the stew, "You can out the potatoes in now."

"Am I bothering you?"

Harry looked at Trowa sharply, "No, I'm just distracted; going back brought forward memories, not all of them good."

"Your mother's sister did not like you, did she?" He asked.

"Understatement, Mr. Barton, they barely tolerated me." Harry sent him a smile and made sure Quatre was still looking for the spice they didn't need and didn't have. "But I survived."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Trowa said softly.

Harry flinched violently, recalling every thing that hadn't killed him but had killed any one he could trust with his life off the battle field. On the battle field it had been a strategic advantage to keep him alive until he could face Tom, Dumbledore had seen fit to share the prophecy with every one, off the 'field was another matter.

And it had been rare that Tom came to the 'field, he had gotten tired of being out witted by a child so he had given leave for any one to kill him, whoever managed would have been greatly rewarded.

The stew spilled over as Harry's arm jerked, his body remembering movements long practiced with a wand that he no longer held, the spoon was similar enough, the stew spilled on him and Harry fought the urge to scream, though he had no reason to do so.

Swallowing, Harry first righted the now empty pot, and then he turned to a shocked Trowa.

"Will you call Rasid and ask him to make dinner; I'm going to go change." Harry said.

Trowa nodded, and Harry left.

"Harry, I don't think we have that spice." Quatre said turning around, "Where'd Harry go."

"He went up to change, the stew spilt on him." Trowa explained.

"Was he hurt?"

"He didn't seem to be."

"Tro-love, he could have been burned, the stew was boiling." Quatre sighed, "Call Rasid to make dinner, I'm going to check on Harry, and would you clean up the mess please, I don't want Harry to worry about it." They all knew he would, though most of the time they didn't want to think on why.

Quatre walked up to Harry's room, he knocked twice and when no one answered, he entered, of all the things he expected to see the last one he wanted to see was the one before him.

Harry had pealed the wet clothes off, and changed into dry boxers, that wasn't what shocked him, what shocked him were the scars on Harry's back, new and old, deep and shallow, thick and thin, long and short. So many scars, sure they all had scares, but none like that, theirs were mostly small and scattered evenly on their bodies, theirs weren't as concentrated as Harry's.

"I didn't want you to see that." Harry's voice startled him.

Quatre watched as Harry turned to look at him, and Quatre's hand flew to his mouth, the scars continued on his chest, some wrapping around his sides, and a few disappeared beyond the waist band of his shorts.

Harry slid a shirt over his head.

"What happened? Were you abused?"

"My mother's sister didn't want to dirty herself or her family by touching me; they merely used words to hurt me, words and hard labor." Harry shrugged.

"Then how…?"

"Close the door please, I don't want to be interrupted, if I am, I don't think I could continue today." Harry waited for Quatre to close the door. "Sit." Harry motioned to the end of the bed, watched as he sat before sitting on the other end.

"Remember what I said on the roof, about how I was made to fight in a war… well, the war wasn't the same one you guys fought in, this one was face to face, living to living, no shield between us, most days our shoes were caked with blood, ears filled with screams, while stifling our own. That is where the scars are from," Harry laughed harshly. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. My life was forfeit the moment my mother died for me, she left me with no one to look out for my best interests, Severus tried, I know that, but there is only so much a spy can do for the enemy." Harry whispered, looking at the little pixie that danced on the wall behind Quatre. "He would have tried to save me had I not faked my death."

Quatre drew in a sharp breath but remained silent.

"Moony and Padfoot, well, Padfoot was so reckless and Moony would have followed him into a vat of silver if it pleased Padfoot. I was their best friend's legacy, they never could see me as a child, I was a warrior, and they could never see me as anything else." Harry smiled. "I came here because there was no reason for me to stay. Every one wanted me dead anyway, besides Severus." Harry paused.

"It has to do with how you and Heero kept in contact, right?" Quatre asked.

"Yeah,"

"You said you couldn't tell us." Quatre said, remembering the off hand comment.

"It's different for family." Harry winced, not quite how he wanted to tell him, but too late now.

"Family?" Quatre whispered.

"Yep, turns out my Mum had relations with a Zayeed Winner after his wife died, and her husband couldn't have children." Harry explained.

"You're my brother?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

Quatre scowled, "Why the hell are you sorry, Harry, I'm glad to have you as my brother, I'm not the only boy anymore." Quatre smiled. "Is that why you asked me to help with dinner?"

Harry nodded, "I'm glad you're happy, you get to tell the others."

"Why?"

"I don't want to hear Duo make fun."

"Okay, are you ready to keep going on your story?"

Harry shrugged, "Magic is real, not in a poof you are a frog sense, but in a magic is earth, everything has a tinge of magic, and every country has a Humanoid creature born from it. Elves were born to North America, Vampires to the Russians, Veela to England, Sprites and Pixies to the Africans, Werewolves to South America, Spirits to Japan and China, and Giants to Australia and to all were born Maglika, witches and wizards, they helped spread the other creatures. Before there was a school parents taught their children, and then Hogwarts was made, four houses divided it and it was never united again.

"Tom was born to Merope Gaunt, she was a pure witch, born to a family that had no non-Maglikans in it, she fell in love with a man who was not a Maglikan, he did not love her so she gave him a love potion, and they married, when she became pregnant she felt guilty and stopped giving him the potion, hoping the child would keep him hers, it didn't, Merope gave birth to Tom alone in an orphan home, gave him his name and died.

"He grew up with a knowledge that he was different, it was proven on his eleventh birthday, when he was given a place at the school that was divided, he was sent to the house that kept the darker children, many purebloods, he grew to hate the non-Maglika that he grew up with, they didn't understand, and so Tom went Dark, he sought the extermination of non-Maglikans, and all who opposed his idea.

"But that is not all he searched for, immortality was there too, and he gained it for a few years. Before I was born a prophecy was made, it said that a child born the end of the seventh month would end him, and he went to kill the child, killing first the boy's father, and then his mother, when she refused to move out of the way, and in killing her he split his soul one last time, then, when he cast the killing curse at a child, the soul fragment detached and bound to the child, doing the impossible, he made himself and the child immortal until the piece was removed.

"The backlash, however, sent the remainder of his soul from his body, and he wandered from possession to possession, when the boy was fourteen he found a way to return, and did so, killing one of the boy's classmates in the process, the boy was sent to deal with that on his own, but instead of staying where he was told, he enrolled himself into summer school, a boarding school, where he met Heero, after that summer he was 'kidnapped' and trained for the war he was made to fight in.

"When the war started a year later things went from bad, to worse, Tom razed their hideout and after the boy lost Severus's godson he made a plan, a foolish plan, yes, but it was something, he asked Tom to kill him."

Harry closed his eyes to collect himself, he had been prepared to die, he had made a will for both of his identities, the Harry Yuy one leaving everything to Heero.

"Instead they fought, and Tom managed to cast a curse meant to kill the boy, it merely removed his soul piece, and Harry released all the Magic he had been storing and burnt everything in a one mile radius, but killing Tom caused all the Magics he had collected to be released and the boy took the brunt of it, he hardly had strength enough to get to the hospital they had set up.

"Then they took him into custody and called him Dark, wanted him dead, but he wasn't willing to die anymore, so he made a copy of himself and left."

Harry smiled, "I came here."

"They were horrible, and don't deserve you any way." Quatre sniffled. "You can stay up here, I'll tell the others." Quatre tucked Harry into bed as he yawned. "Sleep well, little brother." But Harry was already asleep.

AN: so um, yeah, Zechs is feeling left out so how many of you would hate him paired with Harry too, it would be a Zechs/Harry/WuFei threesome thing once they buck up and tell eachother, please note that if you don't want it to go that way I have to re-write chapter ten and scrap eleven.

And I may have the makings of a plot, maybe, I'm posting the chapters as soon as I finish typing them, and this story is completely hard drive, no paper since I typed the beginnings of chapter one and once I'd done that I just couldn't find a way to pencil it anymore, is that crazy or what?