I don't own Charmed or Harry Potter!
It had been years since Harry Potter had seen his family, and he had long since come to terms with the fact that he would never see them again. Being the middle child of a family of attention seekers had never been easy, and he had always enjoyed being able to fade into the background. To make matters worse, his older brother was known to have defeated the darkest wizard of the century when Harry was just a baby and said brother was but two years old.
Charlus Potter had always been gifted magically so it was easy to believe he was the one to deflect the killing curse back at the evil wizard. This seemed even more likely when one took into account his younger brother's apparent lack of magic. Said lack had been a bone of contention between the parents of the two boys, and was made worse by the arrival of a magical baby girl, Violet, just a year and a half after the birth of young Harry.
For James Potter, all of his children were precious, and he didn't love Harry any less when it was decided the boy was a squib. To him, Harry's lack of magic made him want to do more to protect the child. He spent hours researching muggle schools, but ultimately settling on muggle homeschooling, handpicking only the best tutors. He knew his son would have very little to do with the magical world, and wanted to do his absolute best to set him up to thrive in the muggle one.
Lily Potter on the other hand showed a marked preference for her magical children. Often she would get on her husband's case for his supposed favoritism for Harry. She herself had very little to do with the child, claiming it was more important to focus on their magical children as they would be the ones the dark wizard, Voldemort, would target when he returned as Albus Dumbledore said he would. She was good at playing on his fears for the well being of all his children, so succeeded more often at distracting him from their son than he was comfortable admitting to. The changes from the cocky, confident boy from his school days to the brow beaten man he was as his children grew was so gradual he had missed it completely until it was too late.
This is probably the reason he was so easily convinced that his son had committed a heinous crime when the boy was just 19 years old.
23 year old Harry Potter looked up from the book he had been focusing on when he heard the chime that had alerted him to the presence of someone in the vestibule waiting to be allowed entrance. "Can I help you?" He asked pressing the button for the intercom, motioning to the child leaving the bathroom to return to the gym.
"I hope so, we are looking for Jason Martens." One of the men in the vestibule spoke, and Harry was instantly on his guard.
He had been working for the rec center since he had shown up in San Francisco at the age of 19. He had been down on his luck, and the man who ran it had taken a chance on him, and he promised he would spend the rest of his days doing everything in his power to repay that trust. The man had told him that if he wanted to repay him all he needed to do was be there for these kids, as for many he would be one of the few people they had.
"Don't know that the name rings a bell, what do you want with him if I do come across him?" Jason's mom had come to him earlier that week and had told him about her ex husband looking for her and the boy. The man sounded like a real piece of work, and he would be dead before he let anyone help him find the boy and his mom.
"We're teachers from his school." One of the men spoke, and Harry's hand tightened on the baton he kept under the desk for protection. He found the thought of either of them being teachers at Jason's school to be ridiculous, as both seemed too wholesome and naive to know anything about the neighborhood and the kinds of people who lived here.
"It's ok Harry, I know them, they're safe." Jason's voice came from behind him.
"You sure, you willing to stake everyone here's safety on it?" He turned to the boy, and hit the button to unlock the door and let the to men in when the 16 year old gave him a nod.
"Can I use the office for privacy?" Jason asked, and Harry motioned the boy in that direction, as a means of giving him permission.
"Keep in mind, we lock up in 15 minutes and I told your mom I'd walk you home." Harry reminded the boy, hitting the button again to let another parent in who was there to pick up a couple of the remaining children. Jason nodded before walking toward the office, keeping the door opened a crack. Harry couldn't help but smile at this. Jason was a good kid, though trust was not one of his strong suits.
To Harry, it seemed like the kid was a kindred spirit. It was clear the boy had been through some stuff that had shattered his trust in other people, much like Harry himself had. The only difference between them was that Jason had clung to his mother, trusting her implicitly, while Harry built a wall around his heart and trusted no one.
Not even ten minutes later the men were leaving, looking frustrated, Jason following them out of the office with a stubborn look on his face. "You all set?" He asked, double checking his roster to make sure Jason was the last child in the building.
"Yeah, just let me grab my stuff." He waited while the kid threw his coat on and led the way out of the building, locking the doors behind them.
"You sure these guys are ok?" Harry asked a block later, well aware of the two of them being followed.
"Yeah, they just want to make sure I get home ok." Jason spoke with an amused shake of the head. "Their aunt is a friend of my mom's." He offered up as an explanation, "I told them I already had an escort, but I guess they thought it wasn't enough."
"They better be careful, they stand out like a sore thumb. It's a good way to get mugged in this part of town." Harry spoke as his hand tightened around the baton in his hand. This neighborhood wasn't safe at the best of times, and only got worse as the sun went down. You were best to make sure you were home when the street lights went on. It was a far cry from the environment he grew up in, but he refused to dwell on that fact. No more was said, and before long he had the boy delivered to his apartment. He waited just long enough to hear the multiple locks slide into place before turning for home.
Thankfully it was only a few blocks to his small, dingy, apartment. The one bedroom apartment had wallpaper pealing from the walls, and a couple of spots where it was discolored due to old water. It wasn't much, but it was all he could afford from his salary at the rec center and after he paid for his online courses. Heading to his fridge he planned to grab some items to make himself a sandwich, but found it was empty. He made a mental note to stop by the corner bodega on his way home tomorrow night and grab a few things. He could go without eating till then. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd gone without in the last 4 years, and it wouldn't be the last.
Booting up his computer, praying it started, he decided to do some of his course work before he went to bed for the night. Not for the first time his eyes moved to the old leather bound book on one of his shelves. He had found it in an occult store and had been inexplicably drawn to it. Imagine his surprise when he found it to be an odd spell book of sorts. This lead him to doing more research, and led to him learning Wicca, witches, demons, you name it.
Holding out his hand, and unseen wind picked up in the apartment and seemed to pick up around the book, almost floating it into his outstretched hand. He wondered how his parents would have reacted to finding out he wasn't a squib, but a witch. He had found out his powers were called Aerokinesis, meaning he could creat and manipulate winds. Would his mother have loved him had she known he had magic, even if it wasn't like the rest of his family's? Would she have allowed him to spend time with his father? Would it have made a difference to her knowing he had inherited it from her side of the family? Would she have believed him when he cried his innocence?
Through his research he had found out his great-great-great...five times great grandfather had been a witch. It would seem the magic was passed down through the men in the family, and he was the first one born in that line since said grandfather. The book he found in the occult shop was a Book of Shadows from a long dead family. The owner of the shop had helped put him in touch with a practitioner who helped him trace his lineage. That was how he found out his powers came from his Evans ancestors.
Finding his head too full of dark thoughts to be able to focus on his studies he pulled out a pen and paper, preparing to write to his best friend. Ron Weasley and his wife Hermione were the only connection he had to his past. He and Ron had been friends since they were in diapers, both of their parents being members of the Order of the Phoenix. The two had stayed friends through Ron going to Hogwarts. Ron had been so excited to introduce Harry to Hermione the summer after the couple got together.
Hermione being a muggleborn helped to strengthen the bond between the three friends as it helped close a gap the two boys hadn't realized existed. The two were the only two who stood by him when he was accused of the atrocities that got him excommunicated from his family. They tried to keep him sane when he felt like he was drowning in despair, and pulled him out of his self destructive spiral. They had begged him not to leave when he decided he would never be able to escape his personal demons in Great Britain, but let him go when he insisted it was what he needed. They gave him what money they could to help him leave and respected his desire to be separated from them and the rest of the world. Hermione gave him a pendant that would alert them if he was ever close to death, and allow them to portkey to him. They made him promise to write them, but also respected his desire to disappear. They made him promise to tell them the moment he was ready for them to be physically in his life again and they would portkey to him in an instant.
So once again he sat down at his table and wrote of his work at the rec center. He spoke in general of his weekly sessions with his therapist, promising that he hadn't had the degree of dark thoughts he'd experienced before leaving. As always, he left out the violence he saw in his neighborhood, not wanting to worry them. Once the letter was sealed he put it on the table with his keys so he would remember to post it the next day. That done, he readied himself for bed, moving his cat, Hedwig, from his pillow, and lying down to try and sleep.
A.N. I would love to hear who you would like to see paired with Harry, Wyatt or Chris? It will be one of the two, I just don't know which one yet. I am leaning toward Wyatt, as I think I read somewhere his character is gay in the comics, but as I haven't read them I don't know if that is true. I also love Chris's character, so wouldn't mind pairing him with Harry.