Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Kingdom Hearts

Been reading Venquine1990's fics where Sora is often Harry's long lost big brother and this idea came to me.

Chapter 1

Lily smiled as she rocked Harry in her arms, he looked so much like James but the sleepy eyes blinking at her were all her. She looked over at where James was sprawled on the floor beside the play mat, hearing baby laughter, chuckling as he tickled Riku's tummy. The twins had been a shock, she'd known she was pregnant obviously, but somehow, Riku's existence had been hidden by Harry. Poppy had been very surprised to find that it wasn't the placenta but another baby that Lily had been pushing for after Harry had been born…right as the seventh month had died. Twins with separate birthdays technically, July thirty first for Harry and August first for Riku.

They were so different in looks, neither she nor James had a clue where Riku had gotten his silver hair from, but she thought it made him look quit dashing. He'd be fending girls off when he was old enough. His eyes weren't her shade of green, having more blue in them, but they'd been told that could change as he grew older, lots of babies had blue eyes after all, they could even darken to brown like James'.

She wished the boys could have met their grandparents; they would have doted on them. At least Charlus and Dorea had known of her pregnancy, her own parents had died in a car accident during her seventh year…and she still missed them. She knew Petunia had had a son herself not that long ago and she wished things were better between them, that the three boys would grow up close. It wouldn't happen but she could dream. Still, once they could come out of hiding there was little Neville, born only the day before Harry.


James smiled as Riku laughed, wriggling on the mat. He loved his sons…still a little shocked that he had two. They were such good boys too, already devoted to each other. That was good, they would need each other, especially if they were forced to remain in hiding for years.

Harry's name was a good old family name, Riku's name would likely cause a few raised eyebrows, but it had been Lily's choice. He had been named for an old family friend, a man she had called 'uncle' as a child but who had died just after she had started Hogwarts. Such a foreign sounding name combined with his looks… he'd either be beating girls off with a stick or the victim of horrible rumours and the like. He'd have his big brother by his side to protect him at least, from either option.

James grinned as Harry crawled over, flopping down on top of his brother who scowled. "That is a very fierce tiny scowl," James teased. Riku turned it on him before squealing in joy and James laughed as Lily walked over with a bowl of mashed pears, two baby spoons in it. it was Harry's turn to scowl then, he wasn't a big fan of mashed pears unlike his brother.

Very few people knew Riku existed or what Harry looked like. Lily had been pregnant when they went into hiding, it had been why they had, same with Frank and Alice. There was no way to hide that they had a child, but when no one had realised she was expecting twins, he saw no reason to advertise that they did. He'd gone to Gringotts, using the Cloak, and had all the paperwork filed, Riku was fully registered as their son and the correct copies were with the Ministry as well, along with their will. Albus had hinted several times that they should send Riku away for his own safety, that once the danger had passed he could come back to them, but how could anyone even contemplate splitting magical twins up? They might not be identical like Arthur Weasley's boys, but they were still twins, and everyone knew that you never split twins up.

Sirius was Godfather to both boys and Alice was their Godmother. If anything happened to them, he knew they would raise the boys well. The responsibility was doing his best friend a world of good, helping him heal from his family and grow up, just like becoming a Father had helped him do the same. He wished they could have named Remus, but the laws had become harsher as the war continued, he would never be given custody of a child.

He sat Harry in his lap and put the spoon to his mouth, leaning down to inhale the familiar baby scent they still carried. He hated thinking of such things, but they'd had several close calls and even the Fidelius wasn't foolproof. He looked up at Lily as she fed a much more eager Riku. The thought of losing her…of losing one or both of their boys…of being taken from them himself…


Sirius laughed as Prongs stumbled back – his hair was now lime green and almost to his ankle, his nose glowing bright red, and his skin lilac. The twins were so magically active already! He was so proud.

He only wished he could visit more, they seemed to grow so much each time. Harry was already walking! Riku wasn't very far behind, never wanting to be left behind by his big brother. It wasn't much of a first birthday party, no other kids, just a small group of adults who knew the secret. Others had sent gifts that had been thoroughly examined but still…

Riku was already sitting on the baby broom he'd gifted him, Harry had his own too but had been more interested in chasing Lily's cat, the poor thing. He was getting on in years and wasn't handling rambunctious twins too well. To spare the poor thing, he changed into Padfoot, both boys squealing in delight.

"Pa'foo!" Harry stumbled over, to grab his fur, laughing. He barely managed to lunge under Riku when the boy threw himself off the broom.

Lily walked in and laughed, drawing her wand to restore James.


Albus sighed tiredly as he sat behind his desk. The war felt never ending, nothing they did slowed Tom down. The Prophecy had been spoken and the two families who fit it hidden away. He knew there was a traitor in the Order though, which meant Tom was aware of that too. As much as he hated to consider it, the prophecy had to be fulfilled to save their world, one family would need to be sacrificed for the greater good but which would he target if given the chance? The Pureblood child who was everything he claimed to stand for? Or the half-blood like himself?

Young Harry would be for the best, he would be the easiest to mould and guide, he had no living family outside those within the cottage…and Lily's muggle sister. Neville had a large extended family in the Longbottom's and while both boys had a lot of magical potential, as did young Riku, Harry was the stronger. He would be the better hope of defeating Tom when the time came. Orphaning two children was not at all ideal, but the boys could be separated; Riku could have a good life with a new family, perhaps even beyond Britain to ensure the war would not end the Potter line. They were young enough that they'd never notice, they wouldn't remember each other.


James held the twins up to the window, letting them look out at the excited children dressed in their costumes. Technically, it was their second Halloween but they had been far too small last year to have any interest at all. Now the bright colours and excitement in the air had them babbling at him and each other, little hands pressed to the glass. It was just a pity no trick-or-treaters would be able to see the house to knock on their door and that they couldn't take the boys out either. Next year, next year they'd be able to go out.

"James don't let them get too cold. Come on, time for cocoa," Lily called, and he turned to see her levitating a tray of Halloween treats into the room for them all to share.

"Hear that, time for yummy treats!" he told them.

"Trets!" Riku cried out happily.

Soon they were settled before the fireplace, the twins drowsing on the rug. James wrapped an arm around her, holding her against his side, kissing her temple. "I love you," he murmured, and she turned her head, smiling at him.

"I love you too."

And then the house seemed to shudder and they froze in horror. "Lily, take the boys and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!," he pulled her to her feet before scooping the startled children up, pressing them into her arms.


"Go!" He pushed her towards the stairs and she ran, cradling the twins close. He watched her go, and then drew his wand, he would not let Voldemort harm his family!


Lily rushed into the nursery, terrified. The Fidelius had fallen…how could that be? Was Peter dead? She grabbed the emergency bag and portkey, juggling it all only for the portkey to fail…they must have put wards up. The only way out was back down the stairs and through the kitchen out the back. She heard the door being blown in and knew it wasn't an option. She went to the window and looked down and then at the children, there was no other way out. She could levitate them down to the ground and then follow. She heard a thud and then footsteps on the stairs, blanching. James…

There was no time, with a wave of her wand she spelled the door shut, barricading it physically and magically. She set the boys down in their cots, stroking over soft hair, two pairs of green eyes watching her.

She had to protect her children!


He broke the protections on the door and entered the nursery to see two occupied cots, not the one he expected. Two children? Twins? Then which was the child of Prophecy? Standing before them was Lily Potter, her expression defiant. This was the Mudblood that Severus wanted spared.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she stood her ground, wand in her hand.

"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now," he commanded, wand aimed squarely at her. Harry must be the child they believed to be the one, twins were not born at exactly the same time, perhaps the other was older and younger enough to have been born on a different day.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead…Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy…" she begged, refusing to move.

"Stand aside," he gave her one last chance.

"Not Harry, take me instead!"

"Avada Kedavra," he cast the curse, watching the green light hit the woman, her body collapsing immediately, just like her husband.

He stepped over the body, looking into the two cots, finding two young boys. One had hair as black as night, the other the colour of silver. He had no way to know which was the child so both must die. He levelled his wand at the black-haired boy who was standing up in the cot, clutching the bars as he stared up at him quietly.

"Avada Kedavra." There was the familiar flash of green light and then everything exploded.


He looked at the two children, both crying, but one with a jagged cut on his face. Darkness lingered in the room, as well as magic. The old man leant forward, examining both boys, before picking up the silver haired child, wrapping him in the blanket before vanishing.


Sirius rushed towards the house, heart in his throat. No…please no…he froze as he found James, his brother in all but blood, lying before the stairs. Empty eyes stared up at the ceiling, and Sirius slowly knelt beside him, shakily closing his eyes. Oh James… he stood and then heard movement above, his wand appearing in his hand. He rushed up the stairs only to stop, seeing Hagrid walking towards him with a blanket wrapped bundle in his arms.


"Sirius," the giant man sobbed. "Lily…she's…in there." He shifted the bundle and a pained cry came from within.

"Let me see," he moved closer, pulling the blanket aside to see Harry, relieved to find he was alive. He lifted his wand and cast the healing spells he knew. "Get him outside Hagrid, I'll…I'll handle things in here."

"Right, thanks Sirius."

Sirius entered the nursery, finding Lily sprawled before the cots. He knew she was dead, but what of Riku? He moved to his cot only to find it empty, no sign of violence or the toddler. His blanket was gone too. He forced himself to go to Lily then, closing her eyes, before rushing out. "Hagrid, the other cot, was it empty when you arrived?"

"Well yeah, come ter think o' it, 's rather strange ter have two," Hagrid admitted.

Where was Riku? Who could have…Peter. That rat! He leant in and kissed Harry's forehead. "I'll be back kiddo," he promised. "Keep him safe Hagrid, I'm going after the rat."


"He must have taken Riku." And with that he took off, leaving a very confused Hagrid behind.


Albus stared at Millicent Bagnold, the woman hadn't done too badly as war time Minister, but she could have done better. He had explained to her about the Potter's deaths and the child responsible for saving them all. She was being stubborn about the child's placement, she insisted the Potter will be read and followed to the letter, as was the law. That could not happen, no one could learn of the second child either. He needed to be able to place them as he decided. He'd already found two appropriate families over in America who could take him in.

He knew enough of the wills to know they had to be kept secret, they could not have the child of prophecy raised by Sirius Black or the Longbottom's. Besides, everyone knew Sirius Black was the Potter's Secret Keeper.


"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern," the newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early - it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Vernon sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... Petunia walked into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, she looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. "No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," he mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" she snapped at him.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd," he explained awkwardly. Petunia sipped her tea through pursed lips and he wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," she agreed stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," he agreed, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Petunia was in the bathroom, he crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there, it was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

They got into bed. She fell asleep quickly but he lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near his family. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them...


He walked down the street, the quiet bundle in his arms as he glanced around. This was the second time within only a handful of days that he would be bringing a child to the World he thought of as a prison, although he wasn't expecting this one to die. He had no real plans for the boy, not when his others still had a good chance of working. Still, it never hurt to have a backup plan and of the twins he had found, this one's Heart would be more susceptible to Darkness. The dark-haired child had some kind of Light protection wrapped around him that would make him less useful.

He came to the square and lay the bundle down on a bench where it would easily be found. The sun was beginning to rise and that meant people would soon be out and about. His purpose fulfilled, he left the Island World behind, hopefully for the last time.


Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it; the nearest streetlamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again, the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Albus slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat.

He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes.

She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," she told him.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Minerva sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no…even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," she answered irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," Albus offered, but gone for good? No, he doubted that very much. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of," he explained.

"No, thank you," Minerva turned him down coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense, for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort," he chided her, honestly not even saying that made up name was rather silly of everyone. She flinched, but Albus, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," Minerva answered, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," he answered calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too, well, noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs," he chuckled.

She shot him a sharp look. "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" It seemed that she had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Albus with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until he told her it was true. Albus, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are…are…that they're…dead. "

Albus bowed his head.

She gasped, obviously not wanting to believe him. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

He reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Her voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But…he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke…and that's why he's gone. It's…it's true?" she faltered but then pressed on. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." It was not safe for anyone else to know the truth, that Prophecy had been at work. At least it seemed that not even Minerva knew of the existence of a second child, and she had been close to the Potter's.

Minerva pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Albus gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. He put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean…you can't mean the people who live here?" Minerva cried, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore…you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," Albus said firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Minerva faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous, a legend, I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future…there will be books written about Harry, every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly," he agreed, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" it would not do for the boy to be aware of too much, he had to be carefully guided once in their World, that wouldn't happen if he was raised by a Wizarding family. Though, if she was arguing about Harry's placement here, how would she react to the boys being split up?

Minerva opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes, yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

"You think it, wise, to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," he assured her.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," she admitted grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to…what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky…and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

"Hagrid," Albus greeted in relief. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir…house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. Though there was summat odd, two cots in the nursery tha' seemed ter upset young Sirius. Mentioned a rat an' Riku before takin' off in a right old rush."

Albus and Minerva bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. The fact that Hagrid had found only one child but two cots and young Sirius taking off like that…had someone taken the younger child?

"Is that where -?" she whispered.

"Yes," Albus told her. "He'll have that scar forever." Thankfully she had said nothing about Hagrid's words on a second cot.

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well, give him here, Hagrid, we'd better get this over with." Albus took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I…could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Minerva, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Minerva whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as ALbus stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Albus' eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," he said finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir." Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," Albus said, nodding to her. She blew her nose in reply before her form blurred and shrank again.

Albus turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their streetlamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was an orphan, not knowing he would wake to find his twin gone, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Petunia Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"


Peri cradled the small silver-haired baby close, smiling softly at him as his hand curled around the blanket in his sleep. Who could have abandoned such an adorable child? They'd guessed his age at about fourteen months, give or take. At least the blanket had his name stitched into it, Riku.

For two weeks the Mayor had tried to find his family but nothing had come of it and she had immediately offered to take the boy. They'd tried for years to have children but nothing had ever come of it, now when Alun returned from sea she would be able to introduce him to their son.