A/N: Aloha all, this is the second chapter of my little tale. Hope the reader like it, whether you do or not tell me about it! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!! sorry, just a little ticked that i got ONE review. anywhos this chapter isn't quite as action packed but then again it is rather good. Enjoy!

Thanx to Keybearer007 I have the best grammar around. Anyways REVIEW!!!

Tesla Chapter 2:

Cockpit of the Blackbird, Above Hogsmeade Village, Scotland.

"Professor, we've reached the coordinates you've provided. We'll be landing in one minute." Scott Summers shouted over his shoulder to the hold of the advanced stealth transport. Seeing his mentor and boss nod in acknowledgement, he turned back to the task at hand. Easy, Summers, nice and slow… Nudging the flight controls and adjusting the thrust vectors, Scott gently put the Bird on the ground outside of a small village. Signing in relief, he undid his crash webbing while shutting down the engines and checking the cloaking device that would ensure that the ship stayed undisturbed.

"Ok professor, we're set to go," Scott said calmly as he made his way towards his wheel chair bound leader. "How is this going to go down?"

"Well Scott, first Hank, You, and I will head to the gates and request to see Albus. Then, hopefully, we will be able to perform some basic tests on the lad and ready him for the flight to the states," The professor replied. "What you are all about to see should be kept a secret of the utmost importance. I will explain everything on the way back to the institute." That being said, Xavier began to guide his wheel chair down the ramp and toward the small village. "Come along gentlemen."

Shrugging to one another, Hank and Scott gathered up the advanced medical equipment and followed the professor. Reaching into his cargo belt Scott removed a small communications device and spoke into the receiver. "Stealth and defense protocols Alpha engage on my mark…mark." After hearing an audio conformation that the commands were carried out, Scott replaced the device in the pouch on his belt as he and Hank fell into step behind the professor.

Feeling his comrades at his side, Xavier reached out to Dumbledore and opened a line of communication with the aging headmaster.

Albus, we've arrived. Please send someone to greet us at the ward line and key my two associates to the wards. Thank you.

Headmaster's Office. Hogwarts.

Well hello Charles! You made good time old friend. My deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, will meet you at the gates immediately. Do you still enjoy your tea with two sugars?

Albus was both worried and excited after he responded to Charles' mental call. Standing up from behind his ornate desk and stretching his weary muscles and joints, Albus made his way to the fireplace and made a quick floo call to Minerva. Bending low to get his head in the glowing green flames, Albus spotted the fetching Scottish transfiguration mistress grading papers and sipping some brandy.

"Minerva! What lovely robes. Anyways, could you be a dear and head down to the gates? We have important visitors from the colonies here to meet with me about some very crucial matters," The fiery head of Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling away at this lovely lady.

Blushing like a school girl at the headmaster's compliment and smoothing invisible wrinkles in her robes, she nodded quickly and headed for the door.

Chuckling softly, Albus removed his head from the fire and with a quick scourgify his face was as clean as ever. Humming a little ditty he made his way nearly skipping to his desk. Sinking into the plush chair he began to muse about asking the stern cutie out for tea…and maybe some A… some evening. What a delight she would be…Wonder if she has a meter stick…? Naughty Albus… Oh Dear me. Mentally slapping himself, Albus steered the ship of his mind back onto a productive, though admittedly not as fun, course and shouted out for the head elf, Tuggy.

Within seconds the chubby little house elf appeared before him. Bowing low to his esteemed master, the head elf of Hogwarts croaked out, "What can Tuggy do for master?"

"No need for that Tuggy, I need you to set tea for four in the private hospital suite immediately. Run along young master elf!" Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling away.

Bowing low once more, the elf blushed and with a snap of his fingers disappeared with a pop. Smiling to himself, Albus spied the candy dish on the far end of his expansive mahogany desk. With a great UMPH!, he shot as fast as an old man-child could and captured his prized lemon drop. Popping the delicacy in his mouth he exited his office and made way to the private suite of the infirmary.

Maybe I should have brought some extra lemon drops for Charles; he was always fond of them… Throwing that errant thought to the wind, Dumbledore sauntered to his second favorite person's domain, after naughty teacher Minerva of course, whistling Dixie.

Gates of Hogwarts

Minerva McGonagall was pacing up a storm behind the massive magic-infused wrought iron gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He liked my robes? After forty some odd years the poof finally noticed what I was wearin'. I wonder if what they say is true: size of the wand… Her thoughts and furious pacing were interrupted by a gentle clearing of the throat. Her head back in hand; she looked through the bars and saw quite a site.

"Merlin's great sottin beard! Charles Xavier! What are you doing here?!" The usually stern witch was beginning to resemble one of her favorite second years. Smiling gently at one of his favorite professors turned friends, he allowed the transfiguration mistress to calm herself. Noticing that she was awaiting an answer, he chuckled silently then spoke up.

"Good evening, Min. How are you?"

"I'm doing well. Albus sent me to fetch you. Are you here about the young Potter lad?"

"Yes, my associates and I are here to run a few tests on the boy and discern whether or not we can offer any aide. May we enter the wards Min?"

Minerva blushed, berating herself for forgetting to key the three men into the wards. Hastily pulling out her wand, she opened the gates and waved her wand over each of them muttering an incantation. Her mission accomplished, she bent down and gave Charles a fierce hug, happy to have the renowned philanthropist back in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts (a/n: HAHA ALLITERATION). Finding herself blushing once more, she released the professor and straightened her robes.

"Forgive me; I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On behalf of the faculty and students, welcome to Hogwarts."

"Thank you Madame McGonagall. My name's Dr. Henry McCoy, but, please, call me Hank," the blue furred beast said, taking McGonagall's proffered hand kissing it gallantly. Minerva once more found herself blushing and voiced her thanks. Turning to the redhead in sunglasses, she once more offered a hand.

"Hi there, I'm Scott Summers. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Grasping her hand in a firm but friendly shake, he offered her a roguish smile which she returned.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, may we make our way to the school? I'm sure Albus is getting worried," Charles said, smiling at the suddenly frantic McGonagall.

"But of course. Follow me then, I'm sure Albus is getting a bit fussy."

"Lead on milady!" chuckled Charles as the odd caravan made their way through the grounds towards the school.

Riddle Manor, Manchester.

Home Sweet Home… Riddle thought as he entered the dilapidated house. Over the years the house had slowly gone downhill. Bits of plaster and rotting trash littered the once grand halls and rooms. Bones of small animals and take out were scattered about the place.

"Sweet and holy Merlin, what kind of evil shit drinks that horse piss!?" Riddle muttered as he held an empty Heineken bottle between his thumb and forefinger. Pitching it away from himself as one may toss away a piece of filth, Riddle soldiered on through the knee deep refuse, eyes searching for the Amulet of Dormamuu, the one item that would make his forced possession permanent.

Spying it in a curio cabinet, he flung the damaged doors wide and snatched the amulet up holding it up to the dim light of the moon. A wicked grin spread across his face. Chuckling like a mad man, he started to put the amulet on.

"OI! WANKER! WHAT DO YA THINK YER DOIN IN THE LAIR?!" An irritated voice shouted at the laughing man.

Startled, Riddle stopped what he was doing and turned to face the voice.

"Filthy muggle scum! Do you not know whose presence you are in?! I AM LORD VOLDEMORT!" Riddle bellowed at the young hooligans.

"Oi, Thrasher I fink 'e called you a poofter. You gonna let 'im get away wif that?" One hooligan chuckled to his leader.

Said leader saw red, No one and I mean no one call Thrasher a poof and get away with it! Cracking his knuckles and neck menacingly, Thrasher turned his head to his boys and said in a dark voice, "Let's show this poof why 'e shouldn't mess with Thrasher's boys, Kick his bloody pillow bitin' 'ead in boys!" As one the hooligans moved towards their target.

Gulping slightly, Riddle fumbled with the amulet, dropping it to the floor. One of Thrasher's boys smashed the slightly fragile amulet with his left Doc Martin and didn't notice the small scream coming from the crushed bit of jewelry. Eyes searching frantically for an exit, shaking slightly, Riddle felt the dustered (A/N: Thrasher wears knuckle dusters) fist impact his jaw, shattering it in the process.

BIFF!

POW!
BAM!

OOOF!

The hooligans surrounded the downed Dark Lord and began kicking him viciously. Laughing merrily, they stopped once the wretch quit his moaning and took a step back. Ever the compassionate one Thrasher took a knee besides the battered body and felt for a pulse.

"Fuck me boys, the poofs dead. Serves 'im righ', it does. Let's get the fuck outta here. Come on lads." With a final parting kick to the head and a couple of the boys spitting on the body, Thrasher and his crew wandered out into the night to find some girls and hopefully some booze. Their reputation as the badest gang in Manchester gleaming like the poof's blood in the pale moonlight.

In the realm of death, a very unhappy Dark Lord watched his new form take a vicious beating. Sighing deeply, knowing that getting angry would do him no good now, he pondered what to do. Well I need a new host, that's a must… Hmmm…Transylvania is gorgeous this time of year… Transylvania it is. Re-entering the human plane, Riddle made his way towards the beautiful mountains of Eastern Europe to rest and reassess his plans and try and build a better genocide.

Hogwarts, Private Medical Suite

With the pleasantries out of the way the foursome got down to business.

"Charles, are you sure that you can help the lad?" Dumbledore asked as he sipped his tea.

"Dr. McCoy is a leading researcher in the field of genetics and mutation, I have complete faith in him."

Nodding to his former protégé, Albus addressed the blue furred mutant, who was now sporting glasses and sipping tea with a pinky raised to the heavens.

"Dr. McCoy, when will we have the results of this test? I must admit that I have a very limited knowledge of muggle electronics and medical procedures. How will you be accomplishing such a difficult task?"

Sitting his tea on the table the scholarly beast steeped his fingers and took a deep calming breath, he was forever excited when it came to his equipment.

"Headmaster, when I begin the procedure, I'll take a small blood sample from the boy and place it into the machine. Then I will activate the blood analyzer looking for the genetic markers that signify the X-Gene. The whole procedure should take less than twenty minutes."

"Why don't we begin? The boy is in a magical stasis at this time so it should be safe for you to take a sample, doctor," Dumbledore said around his mug, he himself was excited at the prospect of seeing something done that not even magic could accomplish.

With a gleeful smile, the good doctor opened up his kit and began pulling out swabs, vials, and started up the computer that powered the portable blood analyzer. He then pulled on a thick pair of latex rubber gloves, snapping both as though he was about to give some unlucky person a very unpleasant exam. Taking his supplies to the young boy's bedside, he gave the child a cursory once over and noticed the old scars on his back. Gods, what has this child gone through? Surly Albus knows of this sort of abuse. Filing those images away for another time, he applied some iodine to the boy's inner elbow, gently cleaning it to get a clean sample. With one fluid movement he found a vein and removed a few CCs of blood. Motioning for Scott to step forward, Dr. McCoy placed a piece of gauze into Scott's hand.

"Put some pressure on the bleeding Scott. Unless my eyes deceive me, this boy has low iron and platelet levels. He doesn't seem to clot very well." Seeing Scott's nod, McCoy placed the vial into the machine and fired it up. When the little light turned yellow, He turned to the quietly chatting Xavier and Dumbledore.

"Professor, Headmaster, I'm going to hook the young man up to my diagnostic program and run a few scans. Hopefully we will be able to find any problems the boy may have." Receiving two worried nods, McCoy returned to Harry's side with a number of small sensor pads and began to place them in strategic places on the boy's frail form. Satisfied with the placement of each pad, McCoy attention returned to his traveling med-unit. Fingers flying over the keys, the data he was accumulating was staggering. Lord almighty, this kiddo is strong! Turning to the professor, McCoy blurted, "Professor, you need to look at this!"

With a look of concern, Xavier guided his chair across the suite taking a place beside McCoy. The more data he looked over, the more the usually stoic professor looked gob smacked. Looking on with concern, Dumbledore and Summers moved behind Xavier and McCoy respectively. While Summers adopted the same slack jawed stare, Dumbledore's expression was slightly more bizarre, especially whose face it graced. He was utterly confused: this muggle device was absolutely fascinating on one hand, while on the other he was deeply confused. The little pictures and numbers held no meaning to him and the words themselves were completely foreign.

"Charles, sorry to put a damper on the moment, but what do Dr. McCoy's readings tell us?" Albus asked, voicing both his concern and obvious confusion. Breaking his eyes away from the screen, he stared at Albus, while nudging his blue furred friend.

"Hmm...? What...? OH! Right, well you see headmaster, Harry's body is showing signs of extreme wear and tear. It would seem from a bio scan preformed by this program has uncovered a series of injuries that have healed over time; mostly broken bones and soft tissue bruising." Taking in a massive breath, the good doctor continued. "From what I can tell, young Harry has lived a long painful life. I noticed scars from what I would assume a belt buckle. Tell me Headmaster, where does the child go when not at school?"

Albus felt all eyes fall on him and he gulped. He had suspected that poor Harry may have been abused in the past, but he was certain that the wards and compulsions would stop the Dursley's from harming the boy. Minerva was right all those years ago… Feeling fresh guilt slam against his soul as a wave crashes into a cliff face, Albus spoke his next words softly, "I had suspected some abuse, but I had faith that the wards and compulsions I had placed at his relative's home would protect Harry…" Looking to the sleeping child in the hospital bed he noticed for the first time the signs of abuse that he had missed: the small emaciated frame; the quiet, shy nature; the resistance to positive reinforcement; the awkwardness towards any form of affection.

Why didn't I see it sooner… Harry I promise you I'll try to make up for my mistakes…

Coming out of his guilt initiated stupor, Albus turned to the others. "I will have a stern talk with his relatives and, if I cannot put a stop to this senseless abuse, I will take Harry as my ward." The other members of the group agreed silently that if this poor child continued to be abused, then they themselves would find a solution.

God help those bastards if Logan finds out about what they did… Scott and Hank thought at the same moment. The pensive silence brought about by that startling revelation, was shattered by the beeping emanating from the blood analyzer. McCoy brought up the results and took in a sharp breath.

"The results are in. According to the analyzer Harry is an electropath, meaning he can manipulate electric current. The scans and blood analysis confirm that Harry generates and stores both bio electricity and good old fashioned current. From what I can tell, to negate the harmful effects of such a high amount of voltage, he also possesses what is called a healing factor that renews his cell…" he trailed off as another beep and his nose came within an inch of the screen. "Mary mother of Jesus…" McCoy murmured softly.

"What is it Hank?" Xavier asked softly staring at the strange readings.

"Charles, the healing factor I mentioned, well it would appear that those signs of abuse that I mentioned early have disappeared… His healing factor must have rebooted his cellular structure… In short, his bodily systems are now at peak," McCoy finished, his jaw hanging open a wee bit. By Newton's shiny apples…it's as if his body completely rebuilt itself! The power generation has even spiked!

"Umm…Professor… The kid's waking up," Scott said as the boys eyes snapped open and electricity started to arc off his body.

Harry began to scream as more and more power leaked out of his body. GODS APLENTY!!! Harry screamed in his mind. He looked to Dumbledore and the strange trio accompanying him for help. The fuzzy blue guy shouted over Harry's screams, "We need to get him grounded!" Harry felt two sets of hands grab his and the cold feel of something metal pressed into his sweaty palms. To the others in the room, as soon as the grounding rods were clinched in his hands, the electrical arcs dissipated.

McCoy was a millisecond from breathing a sigh of relief, when his grounding unit began to beep shrilly.

That's not good… McCoy thought as he saw the numbers continually rising at an alarming rate. A terawatt?! McCoy turned and form tackled the others just as the scrolling numbers lighting up the screen hit 1.5 Terawatts.

BOOM!

Picking themselves off the ground, they stared at the ruined unit; softly spark in the silence of the room. From there they turned to face a sheepish Harry Potter.

"Um… Sorry about your machine sir. But, if it's any consolation, I feel absolutely stellar…heh heh?"

"Not to worry son. I'm glad to see you're all right. Sorry about the needle poke and all that. We needed to do some testing," McCoy said while Summers and Dumbledore impersonated carp.

Snickering at the expressions of half the room, Harry turned his attention back to the odd blue fuzzball speaking to him in cultured yank tones.

"Where are my manners? Harry Potter, at your service," Harry said while extending a hand.

McCoy shook the boy's hand feeling his fur stand on end. "Harry, my name is Dr. Henry McCoy. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better."

Wheeling himself to the bedside, Xavier offered a hand to the young man. "Hello Harry, my name is Charles Xavier. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Xavier said. "My associate standing with professor Dumbledore is Scott Summers."

Shaking his hand, Harry had the nagging suspicion that he had heard the name Xavier at some point.

That's a name I remember from somewhere…maybe I heard it on the telly this past summer… Sweet Apple Bottomed Morgana! He's Professor X!

Charles couldn't help but chuckle as the young man adopted the stupefied expression of his headmaster. "I see you've heard of me Harry, good things I hope."

"You're Professor X! Leader of the X-Men!" Harry half shouted before blushing and looking down. "If you're here running tests on me… that must mean I'm a mutie." The sheepish smile/blush was replaced by a pale gray look of sorrow.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Charles, Albus (recovered from the shock of his favorite student blowing up a machine that looked to cost quite a bit of coin), and McCoy asked within seconds of one another.

The young man looked up to face the three, and began to speak in a voice hardly above a whisper.

"When I boarded the Express this year, I was talking to my best mate Ron and he said…"

September 1st, Over God's Country, Passenger seat of a Ford Anglia.

This was such a bad idea… Why did I let this prat talk me into this? Harry thought while his 'best mate' steered the flying car over the pastures of the north of England. The young red head looked ridiculous gripping the wheel, sporting white knuckles and blabbing about quidditch and those damn Cannons.

Good gods… I love quidditch as much as the next bloke, but seriously does this git think of nothing but sports and food? Harry fumed as the redhead stuffed another corned beef sandwich into his gob, juice dripping onto his shirt.

"As I was *gulp* sayin' mate *chew* the Cannon's *munch* have a chance for the League Cup." the disheveled red head finished the thought by making a mighty slurping noise, cleaning greasy fingers.

Good lord man, did your bleedin' mother teach you no manners? That's fucking disgusting, Harry thought watching the git slurp the remaining meat drippings from the wax paper that had once held a sandwich.

With a flourish, Ron crumpled and tossed the wrapper into the back seat, oblivious to the fact that his 'best mate' was slowly turning a nice shade of pale dusty green. "Mate did you read that story in the Prophet the other day?" Ron asked still completely oblivious.

When have I had the time you moron? Harry thought darkly as he quickly recalled his oh so lovely summer at Chez Dursley. "Nah, which story mate?" Could you be anymore vague?

"You know, the one about those dirty muties? A bleeding disgrace they are." With that Ron reached for another sandwich. My sandwich, Harry thought as the red head resumed stuffing his gob. After finishing up the last bit of food they had, Ron returned to his previous train of thought.

"Anyhow, those things should be locked away. A disgrace they are," Ron said with a sagely nod noticing the school up ahead.

"Oi mate we're here! I hope the feast is still on."

How can you think about food?! Harry thought making a face. I hope he isn't serious about the mutant thing, from what I saw on the muggle news, regardless of what the press said they seemed to be helping those people…

When that thought fired, the majestic Ford Anglia smashed into the Whomping Willow.

MORON!!!

Private Medical Suite, Hogwarts

"And that's why I'm worried about mutants. There's a whole dung heap of prejudice associated with being outted and after the year I've had, I'm not sure I could handle it," Harry said held hung low, he knew for sure if his Uncle Vernon found out about this, he'd beat the snot out of Harry as sure as a snitch.

When he looked up he didn't see looks of disappointment, but looks of complete understanding. McCoy spoke up after a moment and patted the boy on the arm. "Harry, every mutant in this room has experienced prejudice in one form or another, but we've all gained strength from it. You are NOT a freak, you are a human being. We want to help you Harry, not hurt you." Looking up at the good doctor, Harry responded with a weak smile. He noticed Xavier and Dumbledore move closer and looked to them to see what they had to say.

"Harry, I would like to bring you to my school to train you to control your abilities. I fear that if you continue to repress them, that you'll either hurt yourself or someone else. At this school you'll be around other children with special abilities and you won't be looked down upon while at the school. If Albus and yourself agree to this transfer, I can arrange magical tuition as to allow you to not only learn of your mutant abilities, but, also your magical ones," Xavier explained in a comforting voice. Taking his cue Dumbledore stepped up to say his piece.

"Harry my boy, I've known Charles for a long time and I know that he will provide guidance and support that admittedly I myself could not give. I think that you should go with Charles and learn to control these new abilities. I would also like to say that you shall not be returning to your relatives' house anymore. I think that the Institute is plenty safe." Eyes all a twinkle, Dumbledore smiled at Harry's obvious joy.

"No more Dursleys?" Harry asked. Receiving four emphatic nods to the affirmative, Harry teared up a bit. "Professor Xavier, I'd really like to attend your school, but what about Hermione, Headmaster? I can't leave her here."

"Not to worry Harry, she can write you as much as she would like And I would ask that you visit regularly." Albus smiled at his favorite students concern for his best friend. "But, Harry, what of Mister Weasely?"

"He can go date a dementor. Over the course of the year, I've found that his friendship amounts to jealousy and greed. And, between you and me Professor, I think he's just friends with me because of my accomplishments and not just for Harry, like Hermione," Harry said with some fire.

Albus nodded knowing that from his own observations, it seemed to be true. "Harry if you're up to the task, I'd like to ask Madame Promfrey to run a few more tests. Then, it's off to the states for some training."

Taking note of the overwhelmed nod from the scrawny young man, Dumbledore made his way to the main ward to search for his naughty nurse. With the aging eccentric gone, Charles told McCoy to pack up the equipment, and Summers to head to the Blackbird to get it ready for their departure. With his associates busying themselves, Charles turned his attention back to the young mutant lying before him.

"Harry, I know this is a bit overwhelming, but don't fret. All will be well," Charles said softly, giving the boy a kind smile.

"Thank you for helping me professor. It's just that wherever I go, trouble finds me. I mean, I just killed a nasty great snake and a bleeding memory. I'm twelve years old!" panting a bit, Harry tried to maintain control of his legendary temper. "I just wish I had no part in this sometimes, ya know?" Seeing the bald professor's nod, he continued. "I'm just ready for some normalcy, but I guess it just ain't in the cards."

"Harry, these trials your going through now will only make you stronger. You've done some amazing things in such a short time. One day, you will find the peace you seek my young friend. For now, play the cards you are given and make the best of any situation. The ability to persevere is not a bad problem to have Harry." Noticing the return of the headmaster and infirmary matron, Charles smiled once more and rolled his chair back a few paces, giving the healer some room in which to ply her craft.

Pulling out her wand and waving over the young man, she gave a curt nod, satisfied that the boy way in tip top shape. "Mister Potter appears to be the picture of health. Get some rest over the next few days and though I do enjoy having you around, I do NOT want to see you in here for a very, very long time."

"Yes ma'am! As much as I find the beds comfortable, I would much rather sleep in my own." Hopping to his feet and grabbing some clothes the young man disappeared into the private washroom.

"Charles, I trust you will be the one assisting young Mister Potter with his new abilities?" Promfrey askd, with a appraising glare which was slightly disconcerting to the unfortunate man who fell within its sights.

"Why yes, Poppy, young Harry will be accompanying us to the states for some training. Why is something the matter?" Charles asked subconsciously picking off the worried mood pulsing from the stoic matron.

Poppy looked around and motioned for Dumbledore and Charles to come closer. When they moved as close as they dared, Poppy softly whispered to them, "It would seem that Mister Potter's core is either merging with the rest of his body, or his core is shrinking. "

"How is that possible?" Albus asked, frightened for the young man.

"Albus, Poppy, I'll have a good friend of mine check over young harry when we arrive. Stephen will be able to tell us what is happening to Harry's core."

"Stephen? You mean Stephen Strange, the sorcerer supreme?" Poppy asked, equal parts surprised and alarmed. That man nearly destroyed the world! "Albus are you sure that's a good idea?" hinting to the aging headmaster that Strange was probably not the best person to look over the-boy-who-lived.

"I'm sure the sorcerer supreme would have access to knowledge that we ourselves may not. He maybe a bit brash, but I feel that he is indeed a good man. If you'll excuse us, Poppy," Albus finished as Harry joined the rest of the group.

"Professor Dumbledore, should I go and pack?" Harry asked, ready to go.

"No my boy, the elves will make sure that your belongings will make their way to Charles' craft." Taking out an old tarnished silver coin, Albus tapped it with the tip of his wand while he murmured out portus and the coin glowed blue for a few milliseconds. "Here you are; this portkey will take you to the ship. I'll be along during the summer to check on your progress, Harry. May the gods watch over you, my boy."

He handed the coin to Charles while harry placed a finger on the small silver disc. Smiling at his headmaster and the woman who had cared for his ails, he waved as the coin glowed blue again and felt a tugging sensation at his navel. He got one more glimpse of two of his favorite people as the world dissolved around him, the coin pulling him into a realm of swirling color.

Poppy then retired to her office on the ward, while Albus wandered back to his office. His only thoughts were filled with the problem of how to explain Harry's sudden disappearance from the wizarding world.

A good cuppa will settle my thought, I wonder if Minerva would like to join me…? with a renewed sparkle to his twinkle, Albus quickened his pace, hoping to get presentable before tea time had passed him by.

A/N: Thanx for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. REVIEW FOR THE CHILDREN'S SAKE!!!!!!!