Title: Harry Potter and the Horcruxes' Quest

Genre: slight AU, crossover (HP/X-men), slash

Characters: Harry/Scott, cast

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine; they belong to their respective creators

Summary: After OotP, Harry decides to run away in order to train to be ready to face Voldemort. He goes to find the one person he trusted as a child: Scott Summer. Sparks fly. Spoilers for HBP and DH.

Author's note: Many thanks to Aoife, the wonderful beta that corrected my mistakes! If some are left, there mine and mine only.

NB: There will probably be an update every two days or so since the story is already totally written

Harry Potter and the Horcruxes' Quest


The day wasn't going exactly well for seven years old Harry Potter, the term 'hellish' would be way more appropriate to describe the last twenty-four hours he had lived. It had begun at school, during the mid-afternoon break, when Dudley and his little gang of friends had decided to enjoy their favorite pastime, namely Harry-hunting, and the dark-haired boy had had to run away from them. Though he was very quick for his age, his legs were a lot shorter than most of the others' and he had know at once that they would be catching him very quickly; that was the moment when he had wished himself to be away from them and had found himself on the school roof, with no idea of how it had happened.

The teacher, of course, had been livid. Her thought was that, somehow, Harry had managed to climb up there using the stairs, stairs that were formally prohibited from use by children. After thoroughly chastising him, in front of the whole school, she had done the one thing than any teacher in that particular situation would have done, which was calling his aunt.

If he hadn't realized a long time ago that no matter what he said, no matter what he did, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never believe him, he would have tried to defend himself, to tell them that he had didn't know how it had happened. However, he knew that they would say it was what they called his freakiness that was responsible and, therefore, him.

Usually something strange like that happening to him would mean a few days in the cupboard, with two or three trips a day to the bathroom, depending on Aunt Petunia's mood, some food once a day and, maybe, a few belt-slap on the back, depending on the gravity of the offense. That day, though, it seemed that it had finally gone too far for them.

They hadn't punished him physically, nor had they made any move to lock him into his cupboard. They had even given him some food to eat, food that he had been too worried to actually enjoy. Even at seven, he had been able to feel that something was coming and, probably something bad for him. Unfortunately, he hadn't been wrong.

After a brief conversation with Petunia as soon as he had come back from work, Vernon had taken him to London. He had never been there before because they had always made sure that Mrs. Figg would be able to babysit him whenever they took Dudley out, as for not risking him spoil their son's fun. He had long ago accepted the reality of that and he had to admit that, even if Mrs. Figg was strange and had too many cats to count, she was a lot nicer to him than the Dursley even had been. 

Granted, he didn't especially like her but going to her house usually mean a few hours of Dursleys-free time and, for him, it simply meant freedom.

However, once in London, things had begun to get very weird by Harry's standard. His uncle had taken him in a deserted street, far from any crowded place. He hadn't liked it much there, but he knew better than say what he had on his mind so he had just kept his mouth shut and followed Vernon without as much as a sound. He almost had to run to keep up with the man but he had known that trying to slow down the pace, even if it was just a little, would have mean that he would really get it.

Once they arrived in an alley where no one was in sight, his uncle had turned, facing him, and bend down to talk to him. He had told him to wait for him at that exact spot; he had something he needed to do and would come back for him later. Harry had been really scared to be left alone in what looked most like a dumpster than a street, but he had kept his mouth shut and had promised his uncle that he wouldn't move a finger.

That had happened three hours ago and, at the moment, the night was already beginning to fall. Harry was looking expectantly all around, trying to see if his uncle was coming but, deep inside himself, he knew that the man wasn't going to come back, ever. He had abandoned him, like his relative had threatened to do numerous times already, if he didn't cease to exercise his freakiness.

He felt tears pool in his eyes but he stubbornly refused to shed them. Nevertheless, he decided that he shouldn't stay there anymore but, instead, try to find someplace safe, where there were more people and more light. The fact that the only thing allowing him to see even just a little the place he was in was the moonlight wasn't reassuring him. A lot of bad things could happen when it was dark.

He walked around for a while, before beginning to get really tired. He was going to stop for the night and just sleep at the place he was but, suddenly, a man appeared in front of him. He took one look at him before deciding that he didn't like him. He had a mean air about him and, without even waiting to see what the man was going to do, Harry began to run in the direction he had been coming from.

He heard rapid footsteps behind him and understood at once, without even having to look back, that the man was running after him. The boy doubted that he had any good intention in mind so, absolutely terrified that the man would caught him, he closed his eyes and wished with all his strength he was somewhere else, somewhere it wasn't dark.

A couple of second later, he felt his body hit something and, with a surprised cry, he fell backwards, opening his eyes instinctively. The sudden brightness of the daylight blinded him for a second but he soon realized that he had just bumper into someone else, making them fell on the ground too.

Not used to be excused from the mistakes he made, were they intentional or not, Harry was sure to be soon punished so he looked down at the ground and began, in a very fast pace, to apologize.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. Please don't hurt me, I'm really sorry."

He was breathing unevenly, almost crying, but no hit came. Instead, he guessed more than he saw the person in front of him kneel down.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," said person said and there was something in his voice made Harry believe it.

Harry looked up as he heard them, realizing it wasn't an adult. Instead, he found himself looking in the blue eyes of a brown-haired boy, probably a little older than him. Seeing the clothes he was wearing, Harry guessed that he was either leaving in the streets, or that he had gotten really messy playing in a park.

"What's your name?" the boy asked him.

"Harry," Harry answered, speaking normally now that some of his confidence was coming back to him, as he sensed he could trust the other boy.

"Alright, Harry, my name's Scott," the latter answered.

Usually, he wouldn't have given his real name but would have settled for an alias; it was surer when you didn't have a home. On the other hand, he knew that Harry had been honest with him, so he thought he could make an exception, especially since he was just a kid, younger than himself.

"Why were you running?"

"There was a man chasing me. I- I didn't know what he wanted and it was dark and…"

"Dark?" Scotty repeated, frowning. "It's not dark!"

Harry shrank on himself. He was afraid that Scott would think him a freak like his family did.

"I wasn't here. Sometimes, when I'm afraid and really wish I could be someplace else, it just happens," Harry said, shrugging. "I wished really hard to be somewhere it wasn't dark and then I bumped into you."

Harry, not daring to look at Scott, kept his eyes on the ground. He had no idea how the older boy would take what he had just say but he at least hoped that he wouldn't hit him. He didn't think that he was the kind of boy that was mean and there was something safe about him, but he preferred not to hope for too much; there were less disappointment possible that way.

"You can teleport! That's so cool. You think you're a mutant?" Scott asked in a whisper, knowing enough about the opinion of most people on mutant to not want anyone to overhear him by accident, even though, for now, they were both alone in the alley.

"I don't know. I mean, I always thought that mutants were supposed to have only one power?" Harry asked, frowning.

Scott nodded.

"There are, yes," he said.

"But lot of strange things happen around me," Harry stated. "Once my teacher's hair turned totally blue."

Scott laughed.


Harry nodded.

"Are you with your parents?" he asked, curious.

Scott's face darkened.

"They are dead," he told Harry.

"Oh… I'm sorry. Mine too. I live with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia but I don't think they want me home anymore," he added.

"Why do you say that? They are probably worried about you."

"My Uncle took me to London and left me in a street. He told me he had something important to do but he would come back quickly and he never did."

Scott blinked and then his eyes darkened in outrage. How could people possibly do that to their own flesh and blood? He may have run away from the orphanage he had been in because he hadn't liked it there, but he at least liked to think that if he had had any family left, they would have taken him in and loved him. Harry had been with his family and they had abandoned him. That was simply awful and- wait!


Harry shrugged.

"Yeah… Why, where are we?"

"Nebraska. We're in the States," Scott answered, not able to believe that the little kid he had in front of him had just teleported himself across the ocean.

"Oh. I guess there is no going back," Harry stated. "I don't know what I will do now."

Scott thought about it for a little while before taking a decision he couldn't logically explain. He didn't like to be around people all that much when he was in the streets; it may have been dangerous for a kid to be alone, but he also knew that most people he could go with wouldn't hesitate for a second to stab him in the back. If he had to chose, he preferred to be alone than with people like that. On the other hand, he found himself liking Harry, even though he only barely knew him. The little boy was nice.

"Well, you can stay with me. I don't like the thought of you all alone in the street," he stated.

Harry had a hard time believing his luck. Deep inside, he hoped that Scott wouldn't get bored with him too quickly because he also didn't like the idea of being alone. He may never have had anyone to really take care of him like a parent would do, at least with the Dursley he had a roof on the head and knew it was mostly safe.

Harry couldn't help it; he finally jumped on his feet and hugged his apparently new friend.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he repeated over and over.

Scott hugged him back, a tad bit awkwardly, before letting go of him.

"So, how old are you anyway?" he asked, beginning to walk, Harry trotting at his side to keep up.

"I'm seven!" Harry said proudly. "And you?"


From that point in time and for months, the friendship that the two boys shared began to grow steadily. Harry leant a lot about how to manage surviving in the streets from Scott and he would be eternally grateful to whoever had made them meet because he didn't know if he could have made it all alone.

Scott too was very glad that fate had allowed him to meet Harry that day. It was a bit like having a little brother with him. He had rapidly come to consider him as family and he knew without having to hear it that it went both ways. Plus he had to admit that Harry's power of teleportation could come in quite handy.

Of course, up to now, they didn't exactly had time to use it all that much but, with the help of Scott, Harry was learning to control it and he already could do it purposely on little distance. Soon, they would be able to use it to go inside houses or the like, to take some food when they were too hungry. They had already promised themselves that they wouldn't use that power to steal money or objects because they weren't thieves. They would use it for food, because that was their only chance of survival, and maybe clothes if they really needed them.

Still, it wasn't enough yet and Scott had once proposed to take one of the numerous men they had met in the streets up on his offer to gain some money the easy way, so Harry could have had something to eat. Harry hadn't been too agreeable with the idea and had begged him not to do it, saying that he would rather be hungry than knowing Scott had let himself be hurt in order to feed him. The look into his eyes had been so forceful that Scott had never again suggested something like that.

Unfortunately, they still had to eat if they wanted to stay more or less healthy and that was the reason they found themselves running from the cops, having unwisely chose to try and steal some food from a market, without noticing the policeman standing close by.

Scott was dragging Harry by the hand, running through the numerous alleys they both knew by heart now. But even that didn't prevent them from winding up in an impasse. Usually, it was a freeway but the authorities had apparently decided that it was high time for some repair and had closed the street very recently.

Harry clung to Scott with all the strength his eight years old body could muster. He knew that as soon as the cops caught them, they would be put in an orphanage and probably be separated and he just couldn't let that happen. He closed his eyes, hiding his face in Scott's chest, and wished they could be somewhere else.

"Damn, Green-Eyes!" Scott exclaimed and Harry looked up to see what the fuss was about.

His jaw dropped.

"We're in New York," he yelped, seeing the distant shape of the Liberty Statue.

"Apparently," Scott approved. "Why did we end up here?"

"Oh, well," Harry said with a smirk. "I always wanted to see New York."

Scott laughed and Harry took him by the hand, dragging him in the streets, running.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said to an old woman they met. "My brother and I are a bit lost. We were supposed to meet our parents in Central Park but we took a wrong street and…"

"Oh, don't say anything more, sweetie," the old lady cut him.

She then managed to indicate them the quickest way to the park, within a few sentences. Thankfully, they seemed to be close-by.

"You will find it very quickly. And you, young man, I hope that you will take good care of that little angel," she said to Scott.

"Don't worry ma'am, I will."

"Oh, God, I wish that my two little boys would have been as close as you when they were young," she sighed. "Good luck, boys."

"Thank you, ma'am," both of them said at the same time and watched the nice old lady walk away.

After that, they followed the direction and went to the park, enjoying a little bit of peace while they could, because of all the kids being forced to stay in a classroom during the school-day afternoon.

New York was definitively a good change for them. The city was gigantic and, with the unending rush of people, they didn't have any problems blending into the mass, whether it was day or night. Harry was aloes finally able to master that teleportation powers, though he never tried something as big as the two unintentional jumps he had made.

That control ended up being a very good thing because, otherwise, they may have been dead by the time Scott reached fifteen.

Scott had been having very bad headache for a while when it happened and his eyes had been hurting him pretty badly too. Harry, who really hated having to see him suffer but hadn't had a clue on what to do, usually either stayed with him in the hidden place they had begun to call home, trying to ease up the pain by massaging his forehead and his temples or, if in the cases where it wasn't enough, he would steal some painkillers to give to the older boy.

Though he still had been feeling some pain, even with the painkillers, Scott had wanted to go out that day and Harry and he had been walking around for a while, in the middle of the crow when, suddenly, a red laser beam shot from his eyes. The laser reached the nearby construction site, making unstable to metal construction, unfortunately causing the fall of a large piece of metal. Thankfully, Scott was able to pulverize it with another beam, preventing any injuries on the passing people who had begun to scream.

Once the shock passed, the crow turned on them like one and began to shout something about mutants and murderers. They didn't seem to take in account Scott saving their lives but only what they called a mass murder attempt. It became very clear to both boys that they had to get away from them sooner rather than later.

"Close your eyes!" Harry told him urgently and, taking him by the arm, he concentrated on their hidden place.

Once they arrived, Scott collapsed on the ground and, without getting up, retreating in a corner, keeping his eyes tightly closed.

"I could have killed them," he murmured, his voice strangled, trying not to cry. "God, I could have killed them."

Harry felt the tears well up in his eyes as he looked at his friend and he quickly approached him, wanting to offer some kind of comfort. However, as soon as the felt the younger boy touch him, Scott harshly yanked back.

"Don't come near me!" he cried.

"Scott, I will help you with that. I promise."

"No, Harry!" Scott exclaimed. "You can't help me. You have to go away."

He couldn't stand the thought of that new power of his hurting Harry. It would be too much to bear. Harry had to get away from him to avoid getting hurt, and he should continue his own path. It was the only way he could protect Harry from him, even if it hurt like hell to separate himself from his friend.

"No!" Harry cried, tears beginning to run down his face. "You can't send me away. You ca- you can't."

Eventually, Harry took a few steps back and let himself fall on the ground, beginning to sob in his earnest. He was going to be all alone again. First his parents, then his uncle and aunt, and now Scott, they all kept leaving him alone.

"That's not fair. Everyone keeps abandoning me. Why? What do I do wrong?"

God, Scott thought, that wasn't what he had wanted. All he had wished was to prevent Harry from getting hurt, no to hurt him himself. His throat contracted strongly and he had all the difficulty of the world to hold back the sob that threatened to come out.

"No! It's not you. I…. Harry?" he asked confused when he heard the crying getting softer and softer, as if Harry had been walking away. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry! Harry? Harry!?"

Scott began to panic as he vainly tried to pat the ground and gesture in the air with both his hands, trying helplessly to locate Harry in the complete darkness of his closed eyes. He knew that he couldn't afford opening his eyes and his total inability to find the boy was scaring him. He didn't want to be alone.

Harry, who hadn't been moving but only trying to get his crying into check, crawled on his knees where the Scott was as soon as he saw the other boy reaching for him. He took his hand, letting him know that he was still there and quickly found himself sitting on Scott's knees while being crushed in a hug.

Scott hid his face in Harry's neck and, as soon as he felt the warm tears wet his flesh, the dark-haired boy started to cry again.

"I'm scared," Scott whispered after a moment of silence, still holding onto Harry as if he was his lifeboat.

"I won't leave you alone, I promise. I will help you," Harry swore, fully aware that, for once, he would be the one who would have to be strong; Scott had been his anchor for so long, he could at least do that for him.

And he was true to his words. For more than a year, Harry helped Scott, becoming his eyes and the older boy didn't dare open his again, too scared of hurting someone in the process. Harry took that responsibly on himself without as much as a complaint. He would do whatever it took to make sure that Scott was alright and never at the mercy of the bigoted people who had decided that all mutants 

were evil and had to be eradicated regardless of what they did and how old they were. He would invent stories for whenever he was asked about why his brother, as everyone always thought Scott was, didn't open his eyes and if he sensed that there was even an ounce of danger, he would teleport them somewhere else right away.

Sadly, Fate had decided that she had been too clement on both of them and, under the guise of an unfortunate and unexpected explosion, separated the two friends for a very long time.

When Harry slowly regained consciousness, he found himself in a hospital bed. Startling, he put himself in a sitting position, quickly found his glasses on the bed table and, after putting them on, looked wildly around, hoping to locate Scott, but finding out that he was totally alone in the room.

A nurse chose that moment to enter the room and smiled brightly when she saw him awake.

"It's nice to see you among the living, Sweetie. What's your name?" she asked, as she took her stethoscope to examine his breathing.

"Harry," he answered quickly before asking what he wanted to know. "Excuse me, but where is Scott?"

The nurse frowned.


Harry swallowed, fearing to understand what her look means.

"There was another boy with me. He is sixteen. He doesn't open his eyes. Never."

"I'm sorry, Harry," the nurse said gently. "But you were alone when you were found. Is Scott your brother?"

"No," he said, looking at her blankly. "He's my best friend," he murmured.

The nurse had trouble handling the devastated look on Harry's face and quickly excused herself, telling him that she had to go and fetch the doctor that was taking care of him. Once she was out of the room, Harry looked around him once again and saw a letter with an address written in a beautiful green ink. Looking closer, he saw it was his addressed to him and took it, frowning.

Mister Harry Potter

Room 432

General Hospital

London, UK

Harry realized that he must have been back in England. He hadn't been paying all that much attention when the nurse had talked to him and he supposed it was the main reason he hadn't noticed the British accent. Chasing those thoughts, he opened the letter and his eyes widened considerably when he saw the content.

Dear Mister Potter:

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress