Yo! I'm alive. I know, surprising, right?

Yeah, I'm in college now and the first semester was murder, so I didn't update. Sorry about that but I should be updating more often as long as I keep the chapters around 3-4 K words a piece. If you want longer chapters, its likely to take months at a time. Unlike some other great authors here – I don't quite have that . . . work ethic? Motivation? I'm lazy XD.

Also, those recent reviews were amusing. Especially that demanding guest – it made me burst iut laughing and realize I probably should update. A good number of reviewers also remembered the nature elemental (technically not a wesen apparently according to the wiki) from a later season too named Kinoshimobe that usually is found in Japan.

Oh! And I plan to update my KHR fic soon too, depending on my homework load.

Either way, enjoy!

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Harry James Potter was not a stalker.

Sure, he may have snuck around back in Hogwarts to listen in on conversations and occasionally followed a few suspicious people… okay that doesn't help. But seriously, he was right most of the time. He had a good reputation for finding the baddies. Not that he was labeling these creature-descendants guilty right off the bat, but Harry knows full well how lucky or unlucky his is. Because he was the great, the magnificent, and the almighty Harry Potter after all.

Urgh, cringe inducing complements; some faked to flatter him or get his attention, but some people actually meant it and Harry had long ago decided the later was worse. Harry might have a strong magical core, but he was anything but almighty or magnificent. He was just Harry and that's how he liked it. Seriously, Harry had traveled around the world in disguises just to get away from Britain, eventually learning how to cloak and protect his magical signature to avoid all the people searching for him.

Politics were another nightmare. Now that Harry held the Potter, Slytherin (due to his victory against Voldy), and Black seats, Harry really couldn't just avoid attending the meetings unless he wanted all the purebloods to make more laws against muggleborns or magical creatures. The only joy Harry takes from it is when he cheerfully crushes their greedy ambitions in every Wizengamot meeting, where he basically can veto any bills they tried for with his seats as Lord and his influence as "savior," eternally snickering all the while. As the Man-Who-Conquered, any other the non-prejudiced Wizengamot members followed Harry's unintentional lead with the help of Hermione who, to her overly enthusiastic delight, created laws for the betterment of Britain.

Not that it mattered much anymore, considering the wizarding world doesn't exist here. It should be fine, though, since Hermione can take his place. He has named her as his stand-in or surrogate if he wasn't available – at least this way she could change the wizarding world for the better. Harry might be a leader, but he was no politician and Hermione wasn't called the Brightest Witch of her age for nothing. Either way, Harry should deviate a way to communicate through his trunks connection to Gringotts to contact them his friends if he can't find a way back.

Despite the ache in his chest longing for Hermione, Ron, or any of his long-time friends, Harry was beginning to find it difficult to be sad over the whole "being catapulted into another dimension" thing. If he could talk through one of those communication mirrors or however he manages to contact then, it wouldn't really be much different than him hiding away in the Black house or a nice cottage his parents had left him. To be honest, now that they were out of school, getting together to just hang out or whatever was rather rare with Hermione and Ron with their jobs and romantic life.

Cue shudder as terrible, terrible memories haunt him.

So, as pathetic as it might sound. Harry had very little to miss. After all, he had gone through life just trying to survive rather than actually live. Besides, the ambient magic here was thick and relaxing, almost reminding Harry of a comforter warmly wrapped around him except it wasn't literally a solid, tangible thing unless Harry directly manipulated it. Otherwise it was rather refreshing, rather than cumbersome to feel the magic so healthy and abundant here. Harry imagined an analogy would be a city person breathing in unpolluted (or as much as possible) air. The people here were also clueless about who he was, so he didn't have to worry about anonymity, politics, or never-ending expectations. It was pleasant.

Shaking out of his thoughts, Harry backed away from the bright house, rubbing his eyes to clear the dark spots as he walked away into the night. He was done with trying to eavesdrop for some information. He was fine with skipping a few meals, but just because the poor creature-descendant was jumpy didn't mean they were guilty of something. Considering that the man and his family transformed into rodent-like animal, so Harry theorized it was just in their nature to be alert. Harry didn't like judging them by what creature they were either, although it might give insight to instincts and the like, since he remembers the Slytherin's jeers at Hagrid's half-giant heritage.

Initially, Harry did follow them because jumpy people either tended to let things slip or were up to something from what he's experienced so far and was proven accurate this time again. The man seemed to be one of the best sort of blokes though, considering how he lovingly treated his family and tried to help his neighbors in any way he could; Harry would describe him more as peaceful and docile, if not just a bit nervous around strangers or intimidating predator-decedents.

Harry really didn't like sleeping outside either, he'd had enough of that while searching for Voldy's mini me's. He figured he should probably set up a base or something along those lines. Maybe he could befriend some people, maybe a creature-descendant or two and simply overhear or let them slip up that way. The only issue was that the creature-descendants did see something when they looked at him, at what Harry didn't know, that gave several different reactions. This, of course, would lead to curious inquiries that Harry did not know how to answer without seeming too suspicious yet or lying. Friendships go nowhere if they are based on lies.

Now he didn't expect this whole "new dimension" thing to be easy, in his experience, nothing was easy for him. But boo-hoo, Harry was long used to that too. At least it kept things interesting, Harry was so used to chaos that too much silence and peace made him jumpy since he was just waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop. The nervous ones he was following tended to transform frequently, since they were jumpier at noises, which prompted Harry to add a silencing charm on his clothes and voice.

OoO

Eventually, Harry realized the pattern in their transformations. Every time, although each creature-defendant seemed to have a slight variation, their transformations were triggered by snapping their heads to the side, or something along that line, and occurred either by choice or whenever affected by strong emotion. It was really fascinating to watch, Harry had to stop himself from staring like a moron more often than he'd like to admit.

And as awkward and embarrassed as it made him feel, the best information came with bed time stories to the creature-descendants. Of course, Harry couldn't put much trust in bed time stories, but it was interesting to listen to. Most revolved around these humans that could see them called Grimm's –Harry supposed their magic was hiding their nature from the muggles and that perhaps squibs existed here with enough magic to see them – and how those humans are basically the boogeymen of creature-descendants. The creature-descendants were called Wesen, German according to a language translating spell which simply means "a being" or "creature," which ranged from animal-like species to mythological.

Still, Harry couldn't expect, nor did he want, something terrible to happen to the family just to get some information. He decided to stop creeping around and simply wait for the trouble to come to him. It always does anyways.

OoO

Although Harry could live a few generations just on his trust vault money alone, and probably a few thousand years on the rest, he just didn't feel right using money he never earned for himself. His trust vault maybe, since it was intended for his use, but he swore not to touch the rest of it unless it was an emergency and Harry can't quite fathom needing that much money for any reason. Besides, it was all wizard money and he didn't exactly have Gringotts to exchange it. So, he would have to sell it gold and carrying around gold was suspicious.

It was also impossible, or well, not reliable, to try to live here without any record of existing in the first place. So, Harry was immeasurably glad that Hermione had nagged him about the government and muggle technology. He knew how to fix this. If this was still his world, he could have appealed for citizenship through America's Magical world, but this world felt entirely muggle except for the creature-descendants and those Grimm people they feared.

He found records of a deceased woman old enough to be his mother and resembled him close enough named Mariah Tindall. Since no one shared the vibrancy of his eyes here, he would switch it and say they came from an unknown father. It wasn't impossible, the woman seemed to have similar untamable, thick dark-brown hair.

She gave "birth" and left him at an orphanage due to financial issues, where he was traded around in the foster care system until now when he had his DNA tested and matched the woman. Luckily for him, she had few relatives and her parents had passed away already, so no fake family 'reunions' where he'd have to pretend to be their grandson. No guilt either.

It wasn't all that easy, though, he had to charm and use the confundus charm like a kid eats candy to get her DNA. Then magically inserted and mixed some of his DNA, which he had to do several times to get it right without destroying the DNA samples. He had done this before trying to avoid the wizarding paparazzi, since they had resorted to getting muggles for help fining him using his DNA when he had hidden his magical signature or took a potion to temporarily change it.

In the end, it worked, and he was registered as her child, a citizen of the United States. As a kid passed through the foster care, keeping track of his "records" in the system was difficult enough but a convenient fire kept them from realizing Harry's ploy.

OoO

As Harry was saying, he had no shortage of money. But he didn't like giant houses either. Sure, he liked having space, but big houses seemed like a waste of space to Harry. As is, Harry still has the occasional moments of confusion whenever he wakes up in a nice room rather than the dark and musty cupboard ceiling or a cluttered storage-like second room the Dursley's had "kindly" given him.

Admittedly, it also felt too vulnerable even with wards and muggle security systems simply because he was so used to confined space. Hogwarts was huge, but the amount of people living there for school was enough to warrant it. It was surprising how small Hogwarts could feel with there was several hundred of them in the same room or even just four others in his House room. But normal houses don't have the same sentience as Hogwarts. With the warm magic of the castle, it never felt too big or to lonely.

Harry was just happy he didn't have deal with claustrophobia.

However, he was still picky and there was a limited number of houses or apartments. In the end, he settled cheerfully for a nice one-person apartment with a large kitchen that was open to the living room. The bedroom was simple and cozy, and he spent a good amount of time at the furniture store trying out mattresses for the perfect firm but comfortable bed. The apartment even had a small deck with a beautiful view of the city below and the mountains in the distance.

He also managed to get a part time job at a restaurant after letting them sample his cooking and baking skills. It was a bit more than minimum wage, but again, Harry didn't really care for money in the first place. It felt nice to cook with people who actually appreciate it and will pay him for it. He felt a bit vindicated and almost smug, his happiness was revenge against the Dursley's, even if they would never know. He could imagine how pissed they would feel with how much praise Harry receives for his cooking and tips he gets.

The restaurant was called Screen Door, which was mildly odd to Harry, and served Southern specialties like buttermilk-fried chicken. Harry learned the style and recipes easily and, before long, he was cooking without needing to refer to the recipe or ask for help from one of the senior cooks.

Oddly enough, more and more creature-descendants started frequenting the restaurant, out numbering the human customers with ease. Harry's boss was even a creature-descendant, some dog-like creature with really stunning blue eyes and her woge had her grow short fur that covers most of her face and body except around her mouth. Kenya was stern and precise, but she treated Harry politely and only stared him down before accepting him into the 'group' so to speak.

OoO

He stared at the thin, shining thread of magic attached to his bottomless pouch in his truck that connected to his Gringotts vaults. He grabbed it carefully, just in case he accidently broke the strand, and let his mind follow its connection. His mental body slammed face first into an invisible wall, still holding the string that went through one of the tiniest pinpricks in the wall.

He sighed. This was probably take a while.

OoO

Wandering around late at night in a city wasn't the safest thing in the world, but Harry was a Gryffindor - prone to being reckless and impulsive - and all he wanted was some fresh air/magic and a nice walk. Two weeks had a new routine: get up, go to work, come home and try to contact Gringotts with little progress, read some magic books he found in his vaults, practice magic, going to sleep, and repeating the cycle.

To be honest, this was the most peaceful and calm Harry has felt in . . . well, a while. The cool wind ruffled his already-messy hair and Harry took a moment to just bask in it, turning his head upwards towards the half-moon and just breathing.

Until the ambient magic suddenly hooked around his and pulled, making Harry almost cough up a lung and stumble to the left, where it was directing him. Recovering, Harry activated his mage sight to see the swirling magic coiling around him like an agitated snake. Once he paid attention to it, it made a "road" of bright orange, for some reason, and continued to push him from behind to follow it.

Ever since the living tree thing and just living in the wizarding world in general, Harry braced himself for whatever would happen and followed the figurative road. Eventually, he was out of the main city and in the rows of neighborhoods, where the giant and beautiful houses were nothing like Private Drive's were.

He stopped in front of one house, looking at the door where the magic disappeared behind, and looked longingly back to the city and his apartment, wishing he could just go to sleep now. Magic nudged him again, more anxious and aggressive, so Harry sighed and unlocked it with a quick alohomora, unconcerned with the other muggles since he had already charmed himself with the notice-me-not.

The house was dark, as expected since it was around one in the morning, but the shattered glass of a vase by a broken window was not as normal and gave Harry an entirely different impression of what was going to happen. Shoulders tense, wand out, and a wordless Quieting charm; Harry steps past the glass into the living room where a man stood over another.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry whispered and the spray of ghostly white had the man's body instantly freeze. He fell over, directly covering the body and causing a rather loud banging noise to echo through the room. Harry winced, racing forward to push the man off, ignoring the reverberating growls and glower his glowing eyes held in the dark. The growl cut off abruptly, which Harry ignored since almost every Wesen had paused when looking at him, and instead was trying to find the injured man's pulse.

Harry realized the man has lost his arm and his intestines were exposed, causing him to lose way too much blood, some of which now covered Harry's hands and soaked his pants where he was kneeling, and that the man must have been standing there watching the other die for a good minute or so since he was already too far gone even with potions or what miniscule amount of healing magic Harry knew. He was too late. Harry wished he had run over rather than walking, wondering if the man would even be injured since the magic had given him a rather early heads up, and closed his eyes to respect the dead.

The ambient magic was no longer clustering around him and instead, seemed to integrate the man's tiny squib-like magic into itself. There was a vague sense of loss and a contradictory gain, but no anger because this was a normal cycle of life and magic. This was his first mistake, but no one could expect Harry to know and understand what magic had been pushing him to do. Although he knew it wasn't his fault, Harry would take this as a lesson to trust this new, wild magic more.

While he was distracted by his thoughts, the man somehow managed to slowly break apart the full-body binding curse and lash out, almost hitting Harry if not for Harry's reflexes. The man jumped to his feet, wobbly but able, and woged. His skin decayed, and hair greyed, nasty wrinkles and sore spots appearing as lips withered away and teeth were bared. His eyes even turned glassy and completely dried-blood red with no pupil or whites.

Harry, having seen this once before with a blonde business woman, only slightly reacted with a grimace. The man thrust out his hand and an invisible force flung Harry off his feet, which Harry automatically softened with a silent protego shield, and Harry spun together spells the moment he recovered. His spells were either dodged or reflected by the Wesen's power. Harry's Stinning hex and Levicorpos hit the man almost at the same time, the creature making a terrible screeching noise before being violently pulled by his feet by an invisible rope to hang upside down.

The moment Harry was about to question him, police sirens were loud in his ears and Harry could hear the footsteps outside. The Wesen immediately used his own power to blast himself out the window, disappearing into the shadows just as the front door slammed open and police officers stormed the house.

Harry threw his hands up in surrender, an awkward and resigned smile curling his lips as he chuckled nervously at the police pointing their guns in his direction from the door frame.

"I swear I didn't do this," Harry tried, but their expressions were unsympathetic and unamused. Harry was standing next to the body, murder weapon at his feet and hands bloody in his attempt to save the creature-descendant. All in all, not convincing in the least.

Bugger.

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Heh, heh, heh. Cliffhanger.

For some who thought it was too slow, this was when I had planned for Harry to meet the Grimm characters. It just so happened that Harry meets them while being under suspicion for murder.

*cackles*