Cyber cookies to everyone who figures out what this is crossed with!

One would think a man his age would know better. Or at least read the papers more often.

Albus Dumbledore, in all of his hundred years of experience, had never come across this problem before.

His savior of the magical communities, Harry Potter, was gone. Not dead, as he had frantically checked when he heard, but gone from his aunt's with little to no explanation.

All he could get from the woman was that someone had reported abuse that he couldn't get rid of, and had taken him someplace else. She never cared to ask where.

That someone was called the I.S., though he had no idea what that meant.

Strangely enough, had he actually picked up a paper within the last forty years, he would have learned that the muggles (as they called the non magical folk) had already learned that werewolves, vampires, elves, demons and witches were not only alive and thriving, but they lived among humanity for years.

And they had graciously (well, almost) come to accept that fact. Mostly because the Inderlanders (as they called themselves) and Humans lived separately enough to keep the boundaries there, but still close enough that they had daily contact with each other.

Everyone had come out of the Dark Ages, having lived with humanity since the beginning.

Everyone but the magical communities that based their magic solely on wand use and incantations. They were mostly still ignorant, and they caused no end of problems for the rest of the Inderlanders.

It was so bad that ley-line and earth witches usually said the word 'wizard' as a curse. Warlocks, those with magic but no skill in creating their own charms, were rather happy to be above wizards in the magical totem pole.

So it was with no small sense of glee that the I.S. (those who policed the Inderlanders) took what was clearly a wizard child and placed him in an Inderland foster home.

The repercussions of such a trick would reverberate for years to come.

Christopher, named after the patron Saint of Travelers, which was something of an ongoing joke between him and his friends, was bored. And when he was bored he generally did only one thing when he was grounded from pranks.

He called demons up to chat. It wasn't illegal, just really stupid, because demons tended to be cranky and pissed when called into a circle. And when cranky/pissed, they killed the summoner.

That had never happened to Chris once, because he did something the other summoners didn't. Before he had ever made a summoning circle, he had made a mirror to talk to people in the ever after before summoning.

As a result, the demons he tended to talk to at least had a heads up that he was bringing them over.

It made them much easier to deal with.

So he got out his mirror, and made a call to anyone who was open to chat.

Calling all open lines. Anyone up to chat? I got grounded from my prank supplies again.

A series of negatives went through the line, except for one. Newt and Minias were open, and they actually rather liked him. Particularly Newt, who adored him because he didn't mind her craziness and could calm her down without hurting her.

That was mostly why Minias liked him as well. Chris was the only person this side of the lines who could calm Newt down without getting killed for it.

As a result of that, Minias sometimes dumped Newt on Chris for a few hours while he got something personal done. Chris didn't mind, because Newt usually gave him new demonic charms to invoke that wouldn't land him in jail.

Chris was one of the extremely rare people who could invoke a demonic charm. He had inherited it from his mother, though his father definitely never knew about it. Because he was in regular contact with demons, the enzyme in his blood never turned deadly.

Well, that and Minias had worked a little demon magic to keep it from killing him. He wasn't going to ask.

"Hello Christopher," said Minias.

"Hey Minnie," said Chris, grinning. He hated that nickname, but it made Newt laugh so he dealt with it.

"So what did you do this time to get banned from pranks?"

"I accidentally hit the headmaster with a shave charm. It's not my fault Paul bumped into me while I was invoking it!" said Chris, unrepentant.

Minias raised an eyebrow.

"That's the best excuse you could come up with?"

"Spur of the moment, considering the charm?"

"Point."

Chris rather liked talking to demons. Unlike his roommates in the church orphanage, they were intelligent and didn't have a problem with his quirks. Speaking of quirks...

"Hey, have you ever heard of a school called Hogwarts? I got this weird message through an owl and my roommates are looking rather pissed at me for some reason."

"You have got to be kidding me. I knew your scent was odd, but I didn't think that was the reason!" said Minias.

"Hah?"

"The only way you would get an invitation to Hogwarts...is if you're a wizard born. And for reasons we have yet to understand, they still refuse to come out in the open. They're firmly in the dark ages."

"Wizard? Bugger...that explains the looks. Don't these idiots know I'm strictly an Inderlander? I never get up before noon!"

"And there's more. Judging by that envelope you handed me, they may believe you're the Boy-who-lived. They have this curse that kills people with a touch, and the kid survived it."

"Not my fault they have weak cores," Chris scoffed.

Minias grinned evilly. He found wizards to be more irritating than idiots who summoned him without asking. Chris was possibly the only summoner in the world who could bring one out without worrying about being killed.

"What should I do? If I accept, my friends won't talk to me, and if I don't, then the idiots still come after me."

Minias looked at him with open amusement.

"Accept and make their lives hell for the next seven years. Once you make it clear that you're an Inderlander through and through, they will have to seriously rethink their ideas of staying in the dark. Most of the pure bloods don't even realize the world already accepts witches and warlocks."

Chris suddenly brightened. He would probably get back into their good graces if he made the lives of wizards hell for forcing him to go to their closed off school.

It wasn't like the vampire that ran the orphanage was going to complain. Hell, the man might even give him pointers to really piss them off!

"You've just given me a great idea. Thanks Minias!" said Chris cheerfully.

"Just so you know, Hogwarts isn't on sanctified ground. It is however on four major ley lines that haven't been tapped since before the school was built."

His evil smirk widened even more. That much power was begging to be tapped, and he had the skills for it. He seriously doubted the wizards even had wards to prevent the lines from being tapped.

What greeted him a few days later (upon informing his friends and caretaker why he was accepting, which had them considerably easier to live with) was the largest man he had ever seen outside the ever after.

Aside from the wild look (which didn't actually bother him considering he roomed with Were during the full moon). The man, who's name turned out to be Hagrid the gamekeeper, seemed to take his name in stride.

Apparently his resemblance to the boy-who-lived was enough to satisfy him, despite having hidden his scar rather effectively under a baseball cap. Chris wore contacts, so he wore sunglasses that the caretaker had gotten him.

The only way people would know he was supposedly the boy-who-lived is if Hagrid blabbed.

Thankfully he had ended that fairly quick by telling him that his name was Chris, not Harry. It didn't hurt that he had befriended the man by mentioning the dangerous creatures he was used to dealing with.

Hagrid had a thing for dragons, but was unable to keep one.

Chris was rather impressed by the goblins, who had recognized him for an Inderlander immediately. They seemed to think it was amusing that Hagrid had inadvertently woken everyone in the church up with his banging.

Apparently the person who had sent the letter didn't believe him when he said he slept till eleven at the earliest.

Somehow, he knew he was going to have fun with his night owl tendencies. If only for the chaos he would wreck for them waking him up.

Chris was not a morning person, and he cursed anyone stupid enough to wake him at obscene (for Inderlanders) hours of the morning. Which included anywhere from six to noon.

Hagrid was extremely lucky for the curse proof doors Carl had invested in since Chris learned how to curse using a ley line. The results wouldn't have been pretty. Particularly since Chris had just finished spelling some rather annoying charms, and had just gone to sleep about an hour ago. At seven in the morning.

Chris stepped off the cart with ease. High speeds like that wouldn't phase him, especially since he had spent an entire summer acting as a familiar for a demon and had learned to travel the lines from Newt as a reward.

Carl hadn't been happy about it, but the fact was that with Chris' tendencies to summon demons, being caught on the wrong end of the lines was a possibility, and Chris didn't want to rely on a demon he didn't know to get home. The church was built right outside a line.

Chris scooped a large amount of gold and silver into the bag, which didn't even bulge. He had traded in a favor to get the demonic equivalent of a Diplomat bag, which would make it very hard for someone from the Ministry of Magic (yeah right) to even pick up on the charms he carried.

It had an Expandable Charm, which meant he could dump a Were Pack in it and there would still be room.

He had taken three times the amount of coins needed for first year students to buy their supplies. If the Apothecary he had spotted had what he wanted, then he was so power shopping.

Most Charms shops wouldn't sell things to an unlicensed eleven year old, particularly if they were well known to make charms for Demons.

The Inderland Security's Arcane Division was still baffled as to how he kept he demon smut off his aura. He never foisted the smut onto innocent bystanders, so they couldn't charge him.

It wasn't exactly illegal to make black charms, but it was to use them. Same for giving the black aura to innocent people.

Chris didn't have to. Within a month of summoning demons, he had learned quite by accident there was a soul piece in his scar. That soul piece was absorbing all the taint he gained from making black charms for demons. Not that he was going to tell the Arcane Division that.

(Little known fact: Soul pieces made a permanent demon smut mark on one's aura. There was no way to get rid of it. All Chris was doing was adding to that mark without harming others. The only downside was that it eventually became full, so he would have to find the original soul to put the rest.)

Hagrid had frowned at the amount, but said nothing. Chris waited patiently in the cart for the half giant to return, ignoring the package.

He could honestly care less about whatever errand this Dumbledore wanted the man to do.

Chris went all out at the Apothecary, since it had several things he would be hard pressed to be able to afford outside the alley. It was extremely difficult to find unicorn tail without getting gutted by the horn, and dragon scales were almost impossible to find.

When he went into the bookstore, he raised an eye at the selection.

A wizard's wand was more versatile than the ones earth witches used, but they were a pain to replace.

Still, Chris bought several books that caught his interest, and ignored Hagrid's attempts to change the books.

Next stop was the robes, but Chris only went in under protest. No one said he would have to wear the damn things outside of class.

A pale blond was getting fitted and being a brat about it.

"Great... Like dealing with wizards wasn't torture enough," Chris said, not bothering to lower his voice.

The boy looked at him askance and snorted.

"Stupid Mudblood."

Chris raised an eyebrow.

"Hardly. And it is considered unwise to annoy a demon summoner with several favors with demons in his belt," he replied in a drawl.

The boy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Inderlander?" he asked.

Chris nodded.

"Someone was stupid enough to wake me before noon. He's lucky the living vamp that watches us decided to spring for a spell proof door."

The boy grinned at him, and held out his hand.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Christopher. They never bothered to give me a last name, and frankly I see no need for one."

Draco seemed amused by that.

They left on neutral terms, which was better than most Inderlanders gave wizards.

Hagrid took him to the wand shop, which was the last stop. He left Chris there to get something, which was fine by him.

"Good morning," said the man from behind him.

Chris didn't flinch. He lived with a vamp for crying out loud.

"Are you an Inderlander?" asked Chris.

"You're not the first one to pass through my shop. First demonic witch I've had though," he said amused.

Chris beamed at him. He was the first to get that right on the first try.

"Ah yes, I remember your parents quite well, Mr. Potter. Your mother was a talented ley line witch, while your father was strictly an earth based one. He never knew of course."

"Please don't spread the last name around. I go by Christopher, or Chris for short," he pleaded. He hated spotlight.

"Very well Christopher, let's see which wand chooses you?" said Ollivander amused.

In the end Chris walked out with a thirteen inch redwood and yew wand with a nekomata tail for the core. Ollivander had to mix and match cores to find one for him. He wasn't too happy about the dual wood, but they were the only things that would respond naturally to Chris' aura.

Yew had a double purpose, and Chris was fairly sure the reason Ollivander had frowned so much was because it had grown in a graveyard, which increased it's potency big time.

Hagrid returned with a surprise that made Chris' bad mood for being woken up so early (for him) go away. Hagrid had gotten him an owl.

Owls could be used as familiars, but Chris was rather good at spindling ley line energy without one. Plus he would never dare to place the smut he gained every time he cast on an animal.

He liked animals, even if some of them couldn't stand being near him. Like cats. They couldn't stand him, so he claimed allergies.

The owl was white with black specks, which Chris loved immediately. Mostly because the coloring reminded him of his own soul so keenly.

Pure, except for when he gave his demon smut to the unwanted guest in his head. Whoever was stuck in there was going to pay for it in the end, once Chris could no longer give the smut to the fragment.

Then he was calling in a favor and kicking it out. It wasn't like he would miss a demon favor.

Chris felt like killing someone as he scrambled to get on the train. He was yawning like no tomorrow, since the train left at eleven and he could barely get up at ten.

This was not going to be fun at all.

Well, not for whoever was unfortunate enough to room with him anyway. He had bought a book of reversible curses so he could fulfill his need to hex anyone who woke him up before eleven.

He had promised pictures to his roommates back home. Thanks to the donation Chris had given Carl, they could finally update the kitchen and bedrooms.

Chris finally got a carriage to himself, and thanks to the charm he was wearing, got the regulation trunk up on the rack. It was full of the standard books he was forced to buy. All the real books he had were in his bag. No way was he trusting the children. He barely trusted the boys he roomed with at home.

Within a few minutes of being able to relax, he was half asleep. The Were in the cab had given him a sympathetic look, but had thankfully let him catch up on a bit of sleep.

He was jolted awake when he felt someone enter his compartment without permission.

Dealing with demons gave one a real alertness whenever something unknown entered your sphere.

He glared at the red head before him. The boy was freckled, and from the looks of him didn't understand personal space at all.

"Unless you want to be cursed from here to the ever after, I would recommend either leaving or being quiet," he growled.

Taken aback by the look in his eyes, the boy left. But a girl came in a few minutes later and looked relieved.

"Please tell me you're an Inderlander too," she complained.

"Not a morning person either?" he asked amused.

"If it wasn't for that threat the teacher gave about my magic being taken away I would still be at home sleeping," she answered back.

"Chris."

"Hermione Granger."

"So what type are you?"

"Ley line. Unfortunately I don't have a familiar so my teacher refused to show me how to tap one."

Chris grinned evilly.

"I know how and I've never used a familiar. It's just the demons prefer people didn't know how to use one without a safety net."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't happen to be Chris the demon sorcerer...?"

"That would be the nickname the I.S. saddled me with."

"Is it true that you've cast black charms without having the smut placed on your aura?"

"Trade secret. Want a tip when summoning demons?"

She nodded. She loved knowledge.

"Make a calling circle and ask if someone is available. The reason people die so often when summoning a demon is because they hate being dragged to this side of the ever after without warning."

Hermione nodded. It actually made more sense than it didn't.

"I usually call to see if anyone is available before summoning. If not I don't bother."

"Sounds like a smart idea," she admitted.

Chris coughed.

"Plus it doesn't hurt that I'm one of the rare people who is willing to make a demon charm for them. They hate making them."

The two spent the rest of the trip talking about charms, and ignoring the wizards.