6

Chapter Six: Nothing Where Nothing Should Be

The darkness masked three rather impatient shadows.

"I'm commin' gezz," a southern accent drawled. Soon Rogue emerged from her room fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She had grabbed a hooded sweatshirt and held it and her purse in her left hand. She smiled excitedly.

"I can't believe you blackmailed your way along, and then made us wait," Pyro complained. He sent the girl a hard glare which she ignored, stepping beside Harry her grin grew even wider. Harry, Bobby and Pyro had been passing the rec room when Rogue had emerged, clad in pajamas, wondering what they were doing. Three had quickly become four, the young woman demanding they stop at her room as she wasn't inclined to prance around London in a nighty.

"You and Bobby practically did the same thing," Harry pointed out.

Rogue agreed, sticking her tongue out at Pyro in the process.

"So mature," he stated. She rolled her eyes as turned away, Pyro making his own comical expression at the back of her head.

"So how're we gettn' there," she asked Harry.

"Are we stealing the X-Jet!" Pyro asked excitedly. He bounced up beside Harry, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"Neat," Rogue agreed. Both Pyro and Rogue were on either side of Harry, Bobby trailed close behind Rogue.

"No," Harry said shaking his head. "How would I know how to fly a jet?"

"But, well London is kinda, you know, across an ocean. I don't ride coach." Pyro was honestly trying to figure the logistics of the situation.

"Just trust me, I have my ways." Harry managed to put an evil looking smirk on his face, having seen quite a few evil smirks it wasn't difficult.

The foursome were silent as they crossed the entrance hall. Everyone knew that the teachers lived on the first floor, and while curfews weren't strictly enforced in the mansion, what they were planning wasn't exactly allowed.

Harry lead them out of the mansion and onto the grounds. The moon was full overhead, it made Harry think of Remus absently. Back in his world the werewolf was dead, the moon couldn't trouble him anymore. Still the light did help to cast the grounds into a silver glow. Harry looked around for something suitable for his plans, finally spying a suitably long twig. He held onto it, recalling the lesson Abigail Brimley had given him about various forms of magical transportation. He was also reminded of the witch's unhealthy obsession for a seventies wizarding band called Apocolypto.

Harry hummed a few bars of "Hell Fire," one of the band's more popular songs before raising his hand and waving it as he would a wand. "Portus," he whispered. The twig glowed a faint blue color, which was reassuring considered he'd only cast the spell in lessons. And he really didn't want to risk slide-along apparating, moving three other people across an ocean might be pushing it.

"Take a hold," he directed.

No one moved.

"Go on, just hold on," Harry demanded. The three looked at him like he'd lost his mind but reluctantly grabbed a hold of the stick.

"If this is some sort of lame joke I'm gonna lite your bed on fire," threatened Pyro. "Maybe with you in itttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt" Pyro's voice suddenly echoed around them as a great force lifted their feet from the ground and they were flung into a whirling vortex of air, a sharp tugging of their navels the only real sensation that they were moving.

"Wwhats Gooing Onnn!" Rogue screamed.

"Just Hhold On!" Harry shouted. They really didn't seem to have much of a choice, it was as if their fingers had been superglued to the seemingly harmless piece of wood.

With a shudder they all suddenly landed onto some grass. The sun streamed down on them and they looked around dizzily. Harry had managed to remain on his feet but the others were collapsed and looking winded.

"What the hell was that," Bobby choked. He'd had most of the air knocked out of him when he'd fallen and still felt a little dizzy.

"I like to call it a portkey, but hey cheaper than flying." Harry looked around making sure that no one had seen their arrival. This particular spot was sheltered by a few bushes and tree. He knew it well and had often hidden from Dudley's goonish friends here, so he hoped it would be suitable. Harry tossed the stick aside.

"We're in London?" Rogue asked with surprise filling her voice. She accepted Bobby's hand, standing to her feet and looking around.

"Eh not quite," Harry explained. His examination had left him a little nostalgic, he wasn't far from a playground. "Welcome to Little Whinging, Surrey."

The three mutants looked around. It was an ordinary looking area, only the sun overhead convinced them of the distance they had traveled. There was a road not far from them, but only a few cars had driven by. The height of the sun and the dew on the grass let them know it was still morning.

"Why'd you bring us to Little What's-it Surrey?" Bobby asked. Looking around the place didn't look any different from a normal American neighborhood.

"Well, with all the anti-mutant sentiment I didn't think it would be smart to just pop up in London, they'd have us before a judge and locked up before the end of the day. I think it's best to get into the city the normal way, and Surrey isn't that far. There is a train station we can take a few blocks from here.

"So you know this area, is this where you lived?" Rogue asked. She glanced towards the subdivisions nearby.

"Um, well my Aunt and Uncle did," admitted Harry.

Glances became weary. "So take us to this train station already," Pyro demanded. He had brushed himself off and was already leaving the brush behind.

Harry quickly cut across Magnolia Crescent but couldn't avoid taking the little bit longer path down Privet Drive. He paused for a moment looking at number four. The place had never been home. Now it looked even less like itself. A few toys were scattered about the yard, sized about right for a toddler, a small racing bike was crashed into bush. Harry knew that the Dursely's didn't live here. Even with Aunt Petunia's spoiling nature she'd never allowed Dudley's toys to remain strewn about the yard. No doubt some nice normal family was calling number four home. And the cupboard under the stairs likely housed nothing more than cleaning supplies.

Harry had paused only long enough for his friends to gaze questioningly before he picked up his pace. It wasn't a long walk but he and the other mutants stood out among this area and he didn't want to get them in any trouble. He quickly left Privet drive behind never intending to return, again.

A train left Surrey at 8:00. It was train that quite a few commuters rode, their faces buried in newspapers as they rode towards London and another day's work. Four teenagers were also riding but none of them earned even a glance. They also hadn't been noticed while boarding the train, even though they didn't have tickets. Harry didn't have any money considering his situation, and the other three's American Dollars would have seemed out of place amid the British pounds. And being out of place wasn't something they could be.

"I can't believe this is working," Pyro said with a grin. He eagerly waved a hand in the face of one commuter but the man didn't even seem to notice.

"Stop that, it's not like you're invisible. This just makes people not notice you," Harry explained. He'd cast a strong Notice-Me-Not charm on both himself and his friends before boarding. It was the simplest thing he could think of considering the circumstances. If all went well perhaps the others could exchange their currency in London. That would be less noticeable.

"I've told you," Harry lectured in a rather serious voice. "No powers. They really will arrest you here, then they'll take you to a facility and cut you open to see how you work." Pyro looked ready to snicker. "I'm serious," Harry stated darkly. "This is a quick stop and we need to blend."

Rogue nodded solemnly, as did Bobby, although the ice mutant looked a tad green about what could happen if they were discovered.

"Yeah right, you've got to have the coolest mutation Harry. You'd get us out," argued Pyro.

"Not if you were an idiot about it," stated Harry.

"Sor-ry," Pryo said with a shrug laying back on the seat. He looked harshly at the people gathered around them, most dressed in suits and other business wear. "Are things really that bad here?" the boy asked.

"Yes," Harry answered softly.

The four teens leaned back in their seats listening to the sound of the trains running on the rails.

"So what sort of mutation do you actually have Harry? I've neva seen Logan's healing make a stick take us to England." Rogue, who was seated beside him, had shifted and was watching him with curious brown eyes. Her face was gentle, a smattering of freckles dusted her nose. Harry was close enough to notice the slight flush appear on her skin while he stared at her but didn't answer. The silence continued to drag on for a minute.

"Well," Harry finally said. "I don't know quite what you'd call it. I can do quite a few things. Sorry I didn't say anything about it earlier...I just..." Harry trailed off shrugging his shoulders.

"What sort of things?" Bobby asked. "Like can you freeze things?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Harry nodded.

"Control fire?" Pryro asked, leaning into the conversation.

Harry nodded.

"Geez, what can't you do?" Bobby asked. "Is this sort of thing normal...I mean not that you, um, I just mean— does the Professor know why it's like this?" He scratched his blonde head.

"Well I think it's cool, maybe you can control something on a molecular level or something." Her gloved hand patted Harry. "Can you suck other people's energy?" she questioned.

"Um, not that I know of," answered Harry honestly.

"HA!" Rogue said, pointing her finger towards the other boys.

Bobby grinned with a silly expression. "You've never seemed very proud of it before," he said to her softly. The blonde boy was sitting on her other side and nudged her shoulder with his own.

"Oh well. Ummm," Rogue nodded and straightened her hair while looking at Bobby.

"Don't make me spew," complained Pyro. He elbowed Harry looking for support. Harry found himself grinning at the three of them shaking his head.

After more playful nudging, everyone soon settled into staring out the window. Pyro leaned his head against the glass and promptly fell asleep. Despite the sun shining it was really the middle of the night for the teenagers, somewhere past one in the morning. Harry was rather used to going without sleep, and it seemed the other teens were too excited to really care. Still their rest wasn't long, before an hour had passed the train reached its destination.

Charing Cross Railway station was centrally located in London. The building overlooked both the Strand and the River Thames. But the four teenagers who stealthily left the train from Surrey didn't pay much attention to the architecture as they were swept from the platform and into the railway station. People hustled about, paying them no mind. Notice-Me-Not spells are particularly useful in crowds. One of Harry's teachers, a man by the name of Charlus Brown, had lectured extensively on this fact, just prior to disappearing his clothes and abandoning him in the middle of Hogsmeade— on a Hogwarts's weekend. It wasn't one of his prouder moments, but he'd never forget that spell's usefulness.

Simply put, Invisibility can lead to being trampled if you aren't careful. Notice-Me-Not charms allow you to sweep namelessly through a crowd. Which was what the four teenagers were doing.

The Station itself was just as busy as the platform had been, the morning commute left everyone cranky. People trudged about shoving papers into pockets. The ceiling overhead was frosted glass with iron supports, cris-crossing overhead like a giant net. Signs advertising everything from television shows to toothpaste circled the station, only interrupted by the train schedules which flashed departure times.

Culture shock wasn't as extreme when you still understood the language, but the three American still followed Harry like a bunch of ducklings. Which was just as well considering Harry really didn't want to have to worry about breaking Pyro out of jail.

Finding the exit everyone took a breath of the city air, finding it not much fresher than the air inside had been. Harry waved his hand and removed the charm that had allowed them the free train ride, secrecy wasn't as important now. Also the tourists he'd brought with them would likely be annoyed if everyone continued to avoid their eyes, it made shopping a little difficult.

Harry paused a moment to get a hold of his bearings. He'd really only used this station once when he and Hagrid had rode up for his school things all those years ago. He'd chosen it because he felt that Diagon Alley may be the best place to casually interpret the state of the wizarding world. He'd seen the magic marketplace under peace and war, each aura was distinctly different. Also, despite its obvious limitations, the Daily Prophet had been known to be right on occasion. Either way it was much safer to enter a busy shopping area and leave rather than sneak into Hogwarts.

"Look over there," Rogue said with a grin, "It's one of those double decker buses. Oh isn't that cute. Do you think we can ride one?" she asked.

Bobby was busy checking a paper seller's stand, examining a newspaper.

"You gonna buy that mate," the shop keeper said peevishly.

"You wouldn't know where we could find a currency exchange," Bobby asked the man.

"Americans," the man groaned. His bushy eyebrows rose skyward. "Spect you can find something that way," he said with a jerk of his thumb.

"You got something against Americans," Pyro growled. His chest thrust forward in a challenging manner, taking a step closer to the stand.

"Stop perpetuating stereotypes," Rogue said was a grimace. Her gloved hand grasped the fiery teenager, turning to the vender she smiled sweetly, "Thank you." She's added a deeper drawl to her voice and the man smiled cheekily as her.

"Oh there's the sign," Bobby said. Soon the three had moved over and were quickly exchanging their pocket change for some pound notes. They came back examining the money with interest.

"This looks like money from monopoly or something," Pyro stated.

"It's not very green is it?" commented Bobby.

"I think it's pretty. Look, I think that is the Queen." Rogue was staring with interest at the face on her new currency. "Can you imagine being a princess," she sated with a dreamy tinge to her voice.

"You know that is so weird, just the other day I was thinking about being a princess," Pyro sneered.

Rogue punched his shoulder, "You're gonna ruin this whole thing, Lorr, I need to get more girl friends."

"Didn't know you swung that way sweetie, next time let me know and I'll come watch," Pyro smirked, getting another shove from the Southern mutant.

Harry chuckled at the banter, "This way," he said interrupting what was sure to be another fight. He'd spotted a familiar landmark and was now heading in that direction. Behind him the other three were looking around with interest. Harry considered he'd have little trouble escaping for a few minutes. The others were having fun being tourists, enjoying this unexpected vacation. Maybe he could leave them in the record store next to the Leaky Cauldron while he picked up a Daily Prophet. A simple, 'I've got to use the loo,' would be excuse enough to disappear for a few minutes.

With such a plan in mind Harry and the others began cutting down Charring Cross road and in the direction of Diagon Alley. Along the way they passed a few bookstores, a dozen or so cafes or pubs. The four teenagers didn't look out of place as a few other tourists, maps spread in front of their faces, were moving around ducking into shops. Everyone seemed to have their temptations. They'd nearly lost Bobby when the boy had gazed longingly, drool practically pouring from his mouth, at the window of a pastry shop. Who'd have thought he had a sweet tooth?

"Can't we stop and get something to eat," Pyro moaned as they passed a deli.

"How can you be hungry, by our time it is like two o'clock in the morning." Thinking this Rogue seemed to automatically yawn.

"I don't care, I see good food and I want to eat," the feisty mutant paused again in front of a stand that sold falafels.

"We'll get something, I promise," Harry said. He continued dragging them further. Any moment now a familiar sight would reach his eyes. Now that he was almost upon it, Harry found himself getting excited. He hadn't really been looking forward to returning to the wizarding world, but now that he was close he could feel adrenalin rushing though his blood. His hands almost shook with energy. What sort of world would this be? He'd been avoiding coming because he feared that everything would be worse than how he had left it, but now that it was here he was feeling strangely optimistic.

"Where are we going to anyway?" Bobby finally asked.

Harry had been wondering on this question all night. It seemed odd that they would willingly follow him here without any questions. "There is something I need to check on," he said evasively.

"Is London where you lived?" Rogue asked curiously. She leaned nearer, her shoulder bumping his.

"This is where I was captured," Harry answered honestly.

"Oh," it seemed no one had anything to say to that.

"I don't know why you'd want to leave just to go to Mutant High," Pyro stated, he seemed to have fallen in love with the large city.

"It has its benefits," Harry said under his breath. In truth he still wasn't certain it had been too sane of him to come with Wolverine and Storm. But he hadn't been terribly sane at the moment and it had seemed like a reasonable thing to do.

Harry suddenly stopped. He looked to the left, then to the right. The record store stood looking somewhat vacant, as it always did. The large bookstore, some terrible chain filled with flash and color, also stood in it's usual place. However the building in-between the two was not what Harry had expected. The somewhat dour looking Leaky Cauldron, a pub which didn't attract the notice of most people who passed it, was not there. Harry continued to stare, feeling oddly lost.

He was staring at a Pizza Express.

The building displayed it's name in a manner that demanded the passer-bys to see it, it certainly wasn't hiding the entrance to the wizarding world. On a conscious level, he found himself wondering if he'd gone too far or not far enough. But the more he examined the street, his head turning quickly, the more certain he was that this was were the Leakey Cauldron should be.

"Harry?" Rogue finally asked.

"It's not here," Harry said aloud.

"I think they're just closed," Pryo said. He neared the door and peered at a sign that listed the restaurant's hours. "Yeah, don't open until 11:30. Bad bit of luck, looks like some fine pizza."

Harry followed and soon stood on the stoop, peering into the darkened shop. He leaned forward and cupped his hands to see better in the gloom. His mood was rapidly dropping. Dropping like some atom bomb, and he wasn't certain what would happen if the bloody thing hit.

Indeed, it did look like a fine pizza restaurant. But once again he was filled with the entire wrongness of the situation.

"I know what it's like," Pryo said to him.

"What!" Harry jerked away, "what do you mean," his tone was a little higher pitched than he'd intended, reminding uncomfortably of his thirteen year-old self.

"I said I know what you must be going through man," Pyro reached a hand out and, in a commiserating manner, swung his arm around Harry's shoulder.

"You do?" Harry managed to say. Was Pyro psychic? Harry wouldn't say so, but hell if Trelawny could get it right from time to time who was he to say.

"Yeah, sometimes you just get the yen for a slice from your favorite pizza joint only to find the place not open." Pyro shook his head, his expression conveying all the tragedy of the world.

Harry found himself abruptly pulling away. "Uh, yeah. Guess I didn't think...what with the time difference."

"We came all this way for a– "

"I need to go somewhere," Harry interrupted Rogue. He stepped away from the group wondering what the hell he was doing.

"Uh, okay," Bobby said. "Where to?"

As if I knew, Harry thought to himself. "Just somewhere by myself. Stick to Charing Cross, I'll find you." Harry dashed towards the left.

"Harry!"

He heard Rogue's voice behind him but didn't slow. He rubbed his forehead in a nervous manner, keeping his pace quick. He bustled past people, staring at his feet and the sidewalk. More lost in his thoughts than anything.

Could they have moved it? Spotting a side alley Harry ducked in. He hoped to find a brick wall and hopefully the sound of a bustling marketplace beyond. Maybe a few wizards arguing about the price of newt bladder. But all he found was rubbish bins and twisting path that lead to another bustling London road.

Harry found his breath coming to him in quicker gasps. He blamed it on the hurry. Surely this wasn't the faint stirrings of panic. He turned away from the busy road and huddled in the middle of the alley, slumping against the brick wall.

It had seemed very simple. Demented, but simple. He'd take a bit of a holiday, for his health. Rest up a bit, learn a few more facts about this odd world, then return to the wizarding world and find his place in it. Do his 'recon' and decide what to do. Find old friends, see any family that might be left. In a twisted little delusional part of his mind he'd even constructed this idea about going to Hogwarts again. Not as the famous-boy-who-lived, but just Harry.

Now he couldn't even find the bleeding magical world. Why would they have moved it? That didn't make any sense. He wasn't as well-versed in magical history as Hermione had been, but he was pretty sure that Diagon Alley had been in that spot for hundred, maybe even thousands of years. Why would they move the hub of the magical world.

Then a dark voice whispered something that made him want to vomit.

What if it didn't exist.

It was comical, in that dark sort of funny way. And his reaction was almost cliche, he could literally feel a lead weight seem to settle in his stomach. It was like some empty bottomless pit had opened up.

But the dark voice was back. Doesn't it make sense. So much about this world was different. Hadn't he, on some level, wondered how the muggle world managed to ignore the magical world but attack mutants? Hadn't he wondered how the magical world was dealing with mutation, and yet he'd seen no signs. And wasn't it very odd, now that he thought of it, that a telapathic headmaster would have no knowledge of magic. The man had a gateway into people's heads, he had a vested interest in the way this world worked...and yet he hadn't spotted Harry's magic for what it was. The gnawing emptiness seemed to roar to life.

Yes the more he looked at it, the more it made sense. Tonks had spun some story about Sirius and finding James, and happiness and life with lost family. But had she merely been trying to cheer him up? She wasn't an unspeakable, how would she know what lay beyond the veil. She had been guessing, it was very obvious now. Guessing to make him feel better. And for some reason he hadn't seen that, had so desperately wanted to believe all of that.

No, he was jumping to conclusions. Magic simply couldn't disappear. He'd entered through a magical gateway hadn't he?

Yet, he hadn't been able to see the veil from this side.

Somehow he had to settle this matter, and there was only one thing he could think of to allay his worries. Perhaps Diagon Alley may not be here. Maybe the wizarding marketplace had settled in Nottingham, Bath or Stonehenge. It was possible. But there was one place that he felt he could depend upon. Its placement had been set following natural node lines, the four founders who had built it would have chosen no other location.

With a pop Harry Potter disappeared from his crouching position in an un-named alley in London and with an equally loud noise appeared in Scotland.

The low lying land stretched upward, thick grass growing wild. In the distance lumpy mountains burst out of the grass with shades of gray and tan. Harry spun around taking in the land before him. A large lake edged by a forest was nearby, and in the far distance Harry could see small white houses, seemingly growing out of the green. But in the one direction that mattered most, there was nothing. No castle, no towers, not even a ruin. The cliffs which had housed her looked empty. Perhaps the whole thing would have made a lovely postcard, but it would have been an empty scene.

Harry had, out of habit, apparated at the Hogwart's gates. There weren't any gates; after that first long stare, he found looking at the empty cliff was like looking at something out of his nightmares. It had him remembering something he'd told himself to forget. Why was he such a rebellious bastard.

Other people survived torture. He didn't think he was that special. One of his teachers, a man named Wilson, had been a muggle man who had been captured and held in a POW camp for over six years. He'd endured years of painful questioning, watching as the bodies of his comrades were dragged away and flung heedlessly into a pit behind their prison. Each time Wilson was taken away, there was the chance that he wouldn't return. Or that if he did come back to his little cell his mind wouldn't. He'd watched other prisoners grow quiet with time. The only noise coming from them was a strangled muttering. You didn't need dementors or the Cruciatus curse to drive a man round the bend. But Wilson hadn't been the only man to walk out of there alive and sane. Other men like him had built up a way of surviving even the worst. It was different for everyone, Wilson relied on a small pocket watch that he'd hidden in his shoe and later in the walls of his cell, knowing the time kept things organized. A buddy of his would try and name the birds that flew past his small window, relying on the lessons his mother had taught him as a boy. And Harry fell into his own pattern during his days, scratching marks on the wall to pass the time. Not days, because he couldn't tell that, but he'd make a mark each time he made it back to his cell alive. And as the marks grew to litter the wall, even after all he'd endured, he began to feel invincible.

But those men hadn't had to deal with what Harry did. Their minds at least where their own. That wasn't something Harry could claim. Voldemort enjoyed sending the young man visions. The Dark Lord sent him horrible things, and it was difficult to tell which were real and which were from the imagination of the mad man. He'd witnessed Remus's death first hand, Harry had a feeling that one was real, it had been too much like the proud werewolf to be false. He saw Dumbledore wreaked and bleeding, he saw Ron, Hermione and the other Weasleys tortured and killed without mercy. He saw everything he treasured turned to dust and scattered to the winds. And Hogwarts, it had been a terrible night when he watched her fall. He'd viewed the scene behind crimson eyes and been sickened by the feeling of triumph that soared through his veins.

A torture's wand, blade or whip was comforting, it only added to his sense of control. And a weaker part of him admitted that at least when they were done he could usually pass into nothingness, sweet unconsciousness to ease the pain. But when Harry awoke from Voldemort's games, there was only the silence of his cell and the knowledge that he would find no sleep that night. He'd stare at wet wall and wonder if he had seen truth, or fiction. And then he'd count the marks on his wall. He'd recite the numbers aloud as if they were a sort of scripture.

He promised he'd forget all that.

But seeing those empty cliffs, they had brought that feeling back. But he couldn't blame Voldemort for this desolateness, he'd made this choice on his own. He'd chosen to erase Hogwarts from these hills. All for a bit of peace and a chance to escape.

Without knowing it, Harry's footsteps walked him toward where Hogsmede would be. There was no path and there would probably be no town. But he walked that way the same. Maybe he wanted a stiff drink, and his mind hadn't yet caught up. He found himself counting under his breath and he ordered himself to stop.

It was the sent of smoke that shook him out of his thoughts. The clean air of the fields had vanished and instead the air was charred. He looked around, finding that somehow in his wandering he'd stumbled upon an actual road. It was more of a path than a road, just tire treads with grass growing between.

The path lead towards a black smudge on the green landscape. It had originally been tucked away, hidden behind some thick trees that looked somewhat unusual in the sweeping fields. Perhaps it had once been connected to the Forbidden Forest, but Harry couldn't recall such thick foliage close to Hogsmeade.

Harry continued his walk, he crossed the trees and found himself looking at the remains of a street. It looked not much different than Hogsmeade, smaller but the main street was almost in the same location. The houses didn't look as fancy, simple wooden constructs. Although it was hard to tell their original condition now. Only the support beams remained, standing skeletally. Piles of ash and burned debris was scattered about. Harry saw evidence of couches, beds. Behind one house he spotted a garden growing, unharmed by whatever blaze had happened here.

Somehow he couldn't muster enough emotion. These were obviously some peoples' homes. But his own place, his own home, had also disappeared into nothing. He simply didn't have it left in him to care. Looking around the destruction he felt an odd sense of jealousy. He'd have been content with a burned out wreck at the moment.

Anything to not feel so alone. Harry Potter was now, it seemed, the only wizard alive. The only boy who lived.

After staring at nothing, for who knows how long, Harry finally managed to reclaim some sense of awareness. The hills were still empty, he had seen what he had to see. And so without much thought, Harry apparated back to the London alley he'd come from. He glanced around cautiously, he was back in enemy territory after all.

He didn't have a wand for a Point Me spell, but he hoped that the others would be easy enough to spot. Merlin forbid they'd been picked up by the police, then they really would be in a bind. But thankfully it didn't take long to find them. While a few tourists still mingled about, the street wasn't quite as busy as it had been. He spotted the three not far down the road, emerging from a bakery clutching biscuits and a few buns.

"Hey," he said, slipping back beside them.

"Harry!" Rogue grabbed his arm, a relieved look on her face. "Lorr, we were worried. Hate to explain how we evera got here without passports."

Harry didn't smile, his face wasn't working at the moment. "I just had to check something, not too friendly to strangers if you get my meaning."

"Ah, sure. Want one?" Pyro lifted a bag.

An odd hunger was upon him and Harry pulled out one funny shaped roll.

"It's called a Pizza Hat, the things you Brits come up with," Bobby was eating a similarly shaped roll.

Harry bit into the bread, he didn't pay much attention as he ate it.

"Is everythin okay Harry?" Rogue asked. She was avoiding his eyes as she spoke, staring at the sidewalk instead. Still her gaze would occasionally flicker towards him.

Her concern was more comforting than the food. The muscles in his face were starting to respond again and he managed a lopsided smile. "Not really. People aren't where I left them." It was true enough, although his meaning was more different than she could guess.

"I suppose we forgot, but you musta had friends here. Do you, are you thinkn the government got them," her hand clutched at his sleeve in a nervous gesture.

"I don't think so," Harry said evenly. He didn't expand and the others seemed too uncomfortable to pursue things.

"Well I say we tear this town apart. It's only ten o'clock, got the raw deal with the time change, all fun places probably aren't open...but we've probably got a few hours before we got to get back and the teachers miss us...Lets take a look around." Pyro's energy seemed somewhat boundless, he quickly pushed aside worries and embraced any amusement.

"Sure, I'm up for some wandering," He agreed.

Harry had been to muggle London once on a school field trip. His lunch had been stolen and Pier Polkiss had squirted mustard in his hair. He had been forced to ride with the teacher while on the bus, as no one wanted to sit with him, but that had been fine because the teacher didn't hit him like Dudley would. All and all it had been a pretty good day. Traveling around with the Mutants was a little more fun.

With some handy Notice-Me-Not charms they'd snuck aborad a double-decker bus. It was mostly only inhabited by tourists with cameras and fanny-packs. Rogue had dragged them up to the top. They only road back down Charing Cross before getting off at Trafalgar square.

The other teenagers weren't particularly interested in the history of the square, Pyro had no idea that there had even been Napoleonic Wars. Nelson's Colum was of some interest, although they didn't know who Admiral Nelson was. Rogue was quick to point out that Harry's knowledge of US history was also lacking. The buildings surrounding the square, while admired for their 'old fashioned' look, didn't draw much attention.

The statue of Alison Lapper, a nude depicting a pregnant armless figure was considered somewhat gross and a complete waste of a nude.

"Too bad it isn't the David," Rogue commented with a smirk.

Bobby got the reference but only widened his eyes before quickly crossing back to drag Pryo away from the Lions under the column. He seemed to think it would be a good idea to ride one.

"Ah, Harry's still got the whammy on us, it's not like they'd notice." Pyro was dragged away regardless.

"They're bound to catch you in their pictures," commented Bobby. He gestured to the tourists who where milling about snapping photos and congregating around the stone walls. A school trip had made it to London and most of the children were ignoring the history and chasing pigeons.

"That's a good idea actually." Pyro pulled free and darted into a group shot of three young blondes. He flashed his middle finger and grinned as the photo clicked.

Bobby grabbed the young man's coat, tugging him away from the buxom blondes. "Cut it out, did you forget about the vivisections we can look forward too."

"Ah come on man," Pyro grumbled. "If I'd wanted to take this tour with a teacher I'd have asked one to come along."

"Just cool it," Bobby ordered.

"Too hot," the fiery mutant answered with a smile.

"Check this out," Rogue interrupted. Harry stood behind her with raised eyebrows.

"Souvenirs," she said pointing out a cart that had settled itself not far from them.

With a wave of a hand Harry canceled the Notice-Me-Not charm. "We're all eyes again," he warned the others.

The cart sold the usual collection of souvenirs, hats and buttons proudly showing the Union Jack, a Bobble head of some female politician (humorous enhancements included), miniatures of Nelson's Column, and plenty of t-shirts.

The three mutants picked though the wares debating between what they wanted to buy and what they could afford. Pyro found a black shirt with the Tower of London done with the colorings of the flag.

Rogue was looking at a cute bear wearing the uniform of the police. "He's cute...but considering what the police would do if they found us...not really a comforting bear." She placed the toy back on the stand and started looking through a box of buttons.

Bobby proudly claimed a hat with the Union Jack, putting it on and looking like a right idiot. Still he seemed happy enough and Rogue quickly found a matching hat.

"Wish we'd brought a camera." The one girl among them admitted.

"We can come back some other time," Harry said. "But perhaps now we'd better go."

Somewhere a clock chimed and the teenagers were reminded that morning was coming in New York, and they might need a few hours of sleep to avoid any detection the next day. Harry ushered them to an alley before finding another piece of trash to make into a Portkey.

For a moment, while the others were busy discussing what they had done and arguing over who had the better souvenir, Harry looked back out the London street.

"Ready Harry?" Bobby asked.

Harry nodded, "Yeah lets go."

"Home again, Home again," Rogue chanted. She yawned and leaned against Bobby's shoulder, "It's a good thing we don't have school tomarra, I'm too tired."

Harry agreed. Finding a random piece of trash, a soda can this time, he discreetly cast the charm for a portkey. The gang touched the can a little more

Soon they were rushing through a wind tunnel, the wind whipped their hair about and Rogue's face became lost in the tangle of red that engulfed her. They teenagers managed a little better this time. Not nearly as much screaming anyway, and they were finally dumped just outside Mutant High, a place that was thankfully still cloaked in darkness.

"Couldn't you just have easily dropped us indoors?" Pyro grouched, yawing into his hand as they began trudging back inside.

Harry paused, "Hmm, didn't really think about it," he allowed. Just short sightedness he supposed, Hogwarts never allowed you to portkey onto the grounds. Not unless the portkey was made by the headmaster anyway. A quick and silent spell had them sneaking through the previously locked gates that guarded the school and making their way to the school.

"You know— yawn, I have to say you do come in handy Harry." Pryo slung an arm around the other boy, staggering when Harry batted him away.

They were almost at the entrance to the school when a bright light flashed on flooding the small courtyard with a harsh glare that made them shut their eyes quickly. Harry raised his arm above his head to create some shade, allowing him to see a figure standing in the doorway.

The stunning spell was almost set flying again but a voice quickly caused him to lower his hand guiltily.

"And where have you been?" Scott's voice seemed to tower over the other teenagers as they shrunk away nervously.

Cyclops stepped down, joining them below. His expression was difficult to read as looked down at them; an even more radical looking form of eye wear, almost like something out of star trek, managed to hide much of his reaction.

They blinked adjusting to the light.

"Uh...out for a walk?" Pyro suggested.

"Getting some night air," Bobby agreed.

"Couldn't sleep," Rogue added.

Harry stared forlornly at the teacher, he was dressed in the same leather outfit that he had met Storm and Wolverine in. Somehow seeing Scott clad in leather like this was really killing some of the better fantasies he'd devised involving Storm.

"A walk," a new voice questioned. Jean appeared behind Scott, not wearing leather but dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt. Harry wasn't certain if he was relieved by that fact or not. She arched an eyebrow in the dim light taking in their forms with a steely eye.

She raised her hand and the two silly hats Bobby and Rogue were sporting landed in her grasp, the colors of the Union Jack revealed even in the semi-darkness.

"Somehow I doubt that," she said coldly.

"Totally worth it," Pyro decreed while scrubbing down one of the tables in the cafeteria. He dunked his rag into a bucket of warm water and wiped at a particularly disgusting bit of grim.

"Agreed," Rogue nodded. She pushed a broom around the floor without much concentration.

"They'd never be able to guess how much we got away with," Bobby agreed, a somewhat jittery smile showing he'd really enjoyed his first bout of severe rule breaking.

"It's too impossible for us to get in trouble for it," Pyro agreed.

Harry stared absently at the same spot he'd been rubbing for the last minute. He really doubted that they had gotten away with it, after all their headmaster was a mind reader. Still they all seemed content to think that they'd managed such an adventure and only been assigned a week of lunch-duty cleanup as punishment.

Finally Harry cast a Scourgify charm on the table he was supposed to be washing and sat down.

Magic didn't seem to exist.

Well that was pants. Harry tried for a moment but couldn't find himself feeling any more upset about it. The absence of magic wasn't really hurting him, despite how much he may love it. He was however somewhat lost about what he was supposed to do now. He'd taken it for granted that he could return to the magical world and try and find his parents, godfather and friends. And that was what he missed the most when he hadn't seen Hogwarts on that hill. It had taken him a bit but he'd realized it, uncomfortably.

It was unusual though, it was hard to imagine a world without magic.

Harry looked across the room as Pyro seemed to get into a fight with Iceman, it was a common occurrence between them. Sparked by their very opposite personalities but their bickering never broke out into anything serious. The fire mutant launched a ball of fire at his friend, one which Bobby caught and turned into a ball of ice. He dropped the chunk onto the floor where it shattered. Rogue came over with her broom cursing both boys and swiping the handle in their direction as if it were a sword.

But the show had Harry thinking: were these worlds really that different? True, magic was more versatile, but in the end it was the same thing. Power. And while mutants were chained into only having one ability, they seemed to be able to hone that one attribute into something that could surpass its magical counterpart. And no need for a wand. Maybe whatever it was that made magic had found a way in this world as well.

"Harry, you done?" the others approached looking at the tables he was supposed to be cleaning.

"Yeah," he dismissed, the surfaces were quite sparkling. Ah the wonder of cleaning charms, really could have used those when he was a kid.

"Are you hearing about the results of your tests today?" Rogue asked. She took a seat next to him while Bobby and Pyro examined the tables suspiciously.

"Clean, too clean," Pyro muttered under his breath, running a finger along the gleaming surface before giving Harry a scrutinizing glance.

"Yeah," Harry answered Rogue's question.

He was a little distracted by his previous thoughts and was a little shocked when the girl patted his shoulder comfortingly, "Don't worry, I'm sure you did well." She'd mistaken his disinterest for worry, but Harry didn't try and contradict her.

"More like failed," Pyro said, sitting down as well.

"Don't be so mean," Rogue chastised, swatting him with a gloved hand."

"What, he hasn't been to school since, how old were you?"

"Eleven," Harry answered.

Silence.

"Well, I'm sure you did well," Bobby stated without much enthusiasm.

"You're screwed," Pryo offered his opinion with a grin.

Harry laughed cynically, "It really doesn't matter." Very little did actually. But as Harry sat surrounded by people, in a home that welcomed him, he was wondering if he'd got that all wrong. Maybe this did matter.

A few rooms over Rogue moved through the halls, finally stumbling upon something that looked promising. It was a lounge of some kind where the younger mutants were gathering, and blissfully lacking of the teachers, and importantly Wolverine. She'd exhausted her ability to gather information outside and had decided to risk a trip indoors for the moment. She had learned little thus far, a group of boys playing basketball had spent much of their time talking about girls and impugning the others' sexual prowess while triumphing their own. She'd nearly been found out by laughing at them, boys. She'd managed to overhear a few teens who had been playing with a frisbee mention an attack on the school only the other night, but the students seemed eager to forget that and had quickly moved on to other things. She'd hidden for a moment, but they hadn't returned to the topic. Still...an attack, what exactly had Magneto planned?

But this area would likely be a better spot to get information, provided she could avoid any recognition. It was after lunch and the students seemed to have returned to whatever trivialities they had been pursuing before the noon meal. Mostly card games and few students reading quietly or watching TV. One scene did catch her eye.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" one blonde girl said, embracing a smaller redhead.

"We were all so worried," another girl added, joining the hug with that easy manner that young girls can.

"I'm fine," the girl squeaked, she seemed to be having trouble speaking.

"Thank goodness Harry helped you," the blonde said, she shook her head and bit her lip as if imagining the alternative.

"He must be very powerful, you know," the redhead confided the faintest trace of an Irish accent. "Thee doctors couldn't find a mark on me, even though Dr. Jean had them run every test in the book."

One of the girls spotted Rogue and grinned broadly, she gestured with her shoulder in a welcoming manner.

Rogue smiled gently before slipping away. She closed the door behind her. She looked around the empty hallways cautiously before chancing a shift in her appearance. This time as a boy she'd impersonated before. He walked back outside, his thoughts muddled. Despite this his feet moved swiftly. There was only had a small window before the Professor returned and it'd be good to be gone by now. It was too dangerous to risk more here at Xavier's school. Wolverine, Xavier and now this Harry. There were simply too many variables at work.

Back to the original plan.

In her lab, which was located in the second underground level, Jean Gray uttered a curse of extreme annoyance. In her younger years the frustration might have been enough to shatter objects and kick up something that looked like a windstorm. But she was more composed now, and frankly some of the equipment down here was worth more than the entire mansion. So she took a deep breath and pushed the red button again. It couldn't be helped that she pushed it harder than was needed.

A quiet noise came up behind her and she felt her ire settle some, the noise of wheels gliding across the smooth floor always refocused her.

"Any luck?" Xavier asked softly. He didn't need to be a mind reader to take in her stiff posture and obvious tension.

"This is impossible, it must be broken," she answered, wanting desperately to kick the foul machine but restrained herself yet again.

"Impossible?" Xavier asked, he moved toward her until he was seated beside the monitor, looking at the same little bar that was indicating the processing of genetic material.

A sign popped up, along with a detailed listing of standard information. But as Jean scrolled down she cursed again.

"I've run it through several times now and the read out was just as baffling the first as it was the twelfth," Jean worried her lip as she stared at the machine.

"What do we know," her mentor asked, probing in that calming way that Jean found irritating at the moment.

"Well, if it is any consolation, he's human. He's not a silicon based life form or pod person. In fact, he's too normal. There are no mutations, at least none I can find to any of his genetic structure. There is only this– " she pointed her finger at a whited out portion on the screen, the image which was supposed to have produced a graphic representation of a DNA helix. It was for this feature alone that the machine rung in at over a hundred million. It wasn't exact, the DNA strand was too long for such detailed mapping, but it created a generalized image that helped explain mutation to younger students.

"Is there a flaw with the equipment?" Xavier asked, looking closely at the screen trying to discern why there was, in essence, nothing represented.

"I ran my own blood to be certain, everything is functioning normally.

"With his sort of powers I'd expect to see a great deal of alteration. In most cases there are two typical differences to expect," Jean knew the Professor knew this but he seemed willing to listen to her train of thought. "Usually we see either structural changes to the nucleotides or in most cases a different nitrogenous base, the so called 'x-gene'."

Jean rolled her eyes in an annoyed fashion, any student of genetics knew it would be impossible for one gene to create so many different abilities. In traditional genetics there are four different kinds of nuclitaides, each alike excepting for a differing nitrogenous element: cytosine, adenine, thymine, and guanine. These nitrogenous bases were what linked to each other, resulting in a long double helix chain. However most mutants utilized bases not normally found in typical DNA, still derived in some extent from nitrogen, but also essentially different. These new nuclitides and their resulting combinations were laughingly called X-genes by some of the geneticists who first identified them, but it seemed the general public gladly accepted the term, choosing simplification over fact.

"But alterations are normally in correlating places. Your mutation is seen in aspects that are known to influence brain activity and development. With the mapping of the human genome we know where to look for alterations...and he just doesn't have any where we would expect."

"Where are you looking?" the Professor asked, he himself was having trouble pinning down what Harry's mutation was supposed to be."

"How about healing, I've seen him do that myself. I've studied Wolverine's blood and his DNA indicates significant changes to this portion of the DNA strand," Jean magnified the image.

"Nothing, not a single element out of line. He can block your mental ability so I examined that area, nothing. There is only one major difference— That." Once again se pointed at the bleached out portion of the screen, there was something about that area that didn't seem to be reacting well to the machine that was supposed to be analyzing it.

"Do we know what that portion usually influences?" Xavier asked, peering closely.

Jean fiddled with the keyboard, a frown already on her face. In a moment a group of line and text overlay the image, specific potions of the code were marked for different purposes.

"That is bizarre," Xavier said softly.

"That portion that isn't being read, it shouldn't exist. No other human has something like this. I printed out a more basic analysis, nothing is missing he just seems to have this 'blank" space. Normally I'd assume that it is nothing, maybe it is a glitch, but the machines are telling me there is a lack of something." She tugged on her red hair realizing how convoluted the explanation was. How do you explain that nothing is where nothing should be?

Charles Xavier became very pensive, he looked at the screen and wasn't quite able to feel the same frustration Jean did.

"He said we probably wouldn't understand," he said offered quietly.

"You're willing to accept that?" Jean continued to gaze at the monitor as she spoke.

"For the moment we have no choice."

Jean turned to face him, "Disregarding his nocturnal excursions, he has been some help to us. I can't imagine what we would have done if Syren..." she swallowed suppressing that worry harshly. "He is powerful though," she said hesitantly.

Xavier merely nodded.

Jean ran a hand through her hair, "At least we won't have to worry about Magneto finding out about him," she stated.

"If he doesn't already know," the Professor mused.

"How could he...?" Jean let the conversation drop. Her fingers lazily typed on the keyboard, saving the little information they had gathered. She couldn't help but bring up the visual representation once again. It was still as uninformative as it had been previously.

The pair stayed still for a moment longer, looking at nothing, in the place where nothing should be. Harry Potter had stumbled into their lives, and as of yet it was impossible to know what that would mean.

A/N: Before the storm of outrage emerges, I hope all lovers of the X-gene take a peek at this blog entry. I stumbled upon it while doing some X-men and genetics research. It helped to shape my thoughts involving this portion of the X-men genre. If you really want to argue with me I suggest you read it first. I think some people out there will enjoy this direction, as I did.