This is one story I've been sitting on for a year. Currently, I have two notebooks filled with all of the plot and other tidbits in my house, and around 20 chapters shortage of updates here!

The inspiration comes from one sweetlilsunshine, who wrote a similar story called "A Forks Night". Go check it out!

When Petunia Dursley opened the door that chilly morning, she certainly didn't expect to see a young child laying on her doorstep. The shriek she barely managed to contain would have woken up the whole neighborhood, which as a perfectly normal person, she couldn't tolerate. Quickly, she snatched up the note on the child, and paled at the contents.

Her husband came up behind her. "What is it, Petunia?"

"It's hers," she hissed. "My sister's freak son. She went and got herself killed, and the freaks want us to care for it." She looked down at the child, her expression even more pinched then normal. "Get rid of it."

Vernon turned a mottled purple. Freaks? Why would the foist one of them on normal people like himself? "I'll take it to an orphanage right away. Let them deal with it." He roughly grabbed the child, who started crying, and stormed off to the car. He was about to just stick it in a seat, but the thought of a policeman pulling him over caused him to buckle it up into his sons carrier.

Every orphanage Vernon Dursley stopped at refused to accept the brat. They gave excuses about there being no room, or it didn't have people to care for a young child. Frustrated, Vernon Dursley parked on the side of a road to think. Unless he wanted to drive around for a few days, orphanages were out.

"Daddy, can we please get ice cream before we go?" a young American girl with brown hair asked. "You promised!"

"Just a minute," said the man next to her.

A plan began forming in Vernons mind. Quickly, he grabbed the boy from the car seat and rushed outside. "Sir, could you hold this boy for a second?" he asked the American man, offering the brat.

The American looked flustered. "I- well, I guess..."

Once the child was out of his arms, Vernon scrambled back to his car. His wife was waiting at home, and if he knew anything, it would be with a huge pile of rashers and tea waiting on the table.

The American watched as the man who had just given him a child drove off into the distance. He looked down at the crying child in his arms, the gash on his forehead an angry red. "Hello, little guy," he said gruffly. "Shhhh..."

"Who was that, Daddy?" His daughter craned her neck, trying to see into the bundle of child in his arms. "Awwww..."

If one thing was for certain, it was that this was the oddest vacation that Charlie Swan had ever taken.

"Daddy, where's Mom?" Isabella Marie Swan looked around the terminal, a crease between her eyes to show concentration. "I wanna meet her to Harry-Luke!"

"Don't you mean show her?" Charlie chuckled, swaying back and forth in an attempt to calm the squirming toddler in his arms. So far, Harry had done a good job at keeping quiet, but that felt like it was about to change.

Bella giggled. The sound made Harry look at her, and she stuck out her tongue. Harry's face split into a huge grin.

"Looks like Harry's gonna miss you, Bells," Charlie teased, wiping something sticky from Harry's face.

"Charlie?" a shocked voice came from behind. "Is that a child?"

Bella's eyes widened. "Mom!" she shouted, Harry temporarily forgotten as she ran to hug her mother.

Charlie turned around to see his ex. "Hello, Renee. How've you been?"

Renee walked over, dragging a clingy Bella. "Fine. Who's this?" she asked, tickling Harry, who had shoved his face into Charlie's shirt, smearing sticky all over.

"This is Harry-Luke William Swan," said Charlie in a proud voice. "Er, it's a bit of a long story, but he's now my adopted son."

"That's nice," Renee replied slowly, trying to get Harry to look at her. "Is he from-"

"When we were in London, some overweight man dumped him into my arms and ran." Charlie shifted Harry around. "I tried to find out if he was kidnapped, but when nothing turned up, I offered to take him with me back to America. The foster system is so clogged over there, they were glad to let me. I can legally adopt him in six months if nothing turns up by then."

"So I'm guessing you named him?" asked Renee, amused.

"I, uh, yeah," flushed Charlie. "Harry after Harry Clearwater, Luke after my father, and William because they have a prince named that, and Billy Black. I thought it'd be fun," he explained.

"Oh." Just then, Renee's watch exploded in beeping noises. "Crap! That's for the flight back. I have five minutes. Call you in a few months to set up spring break?" But by that time, Renee was almost too far away to reply.

"Dadadadada," babbled Harry happily, drooling a bit. The odd wound on his forehead was just beginning to heal, going from the angry red of a fresh wound to the paler color it was now. It stood out against the pale forehead of the child, whose wispy hair wasn't quite enough to cover it yet.

Charlie turned to the young child in his arms. "Looks like it's just you and me, buddy. Let's go home." And with that, the duo left the airport.

3 1/2 YEARS LATER

"Daddy, why is Bella not here?" Harry-Luke asked, licking his fingers clean of frosting. Charlie, after adopting Harry, had learned how to make more than eggs from Sue Clearwater, who was happy to help her husbands namesake from starving to death so soon after joining them. He wasn't a great chef, but with just two boys in the house, he didn't truly need to be.

"With Auntie Renee, remember?" Charlie kept washing the dishes he was working on. "This Christmas Bella stays there. She'll come up on spring break."

"When is spring break?" Harry picked up his fork and stabbed at the apple slice on his plate.

"In four months."

"Is that a lotta days?"

Charlie smiled. "Yeah, bud."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes. "I want Bella," he whimpered, water making trails down his slightly pudgy face. Suddenly he broke out into all out sobs, standing up. "I want Bella!" he screeched, throwing his fork at Charlie.

A whooshing noise came from the family room, and the sound of broken glass covered the clank of dishes as Charlie ran into the family room. The whole half-decorated tree had lit on fire, flames leaping unnaturally around the tree. Presents swirled around the room, knocking things off of shelves.

Before Charlie could do anything, a crack resonated throughout the room. Two men in business suits appeared, and within a few moments, the room was back to normal.

The taller man pulled out a stack of paper. "Is this the residence of one Harry-Luke William Swan?" he asked, shifting through the papers.

Charlie shook his head. "Um, yes," he mumbled, glancing at the kitchen. Harry had stopped throwing a fit, and his head was poking over the side of the door.

"Daddy?" Harry asked, chewing an apple slice. He saw the men in suits, and ran to Charlie, who scooped him up, burrowing in the safety of a parent.

The shorter man smiled. "I'm assuming you're wondering what's going on."

"I-"

"We'll just tell you," interrupted the tall man. "Your son is magical."

Charlie dropped down onto the couch. "Oh," he said simply after a minute.

"It's strange, really." The shorter man shook his head. "Sorry. I'm Percy Parker, and this over here is Gabe Carvhalo. We're from Salem Institute of Seattle, the magical school for most of the state of Washington."

"We would have warned you sooner," continued Gabe, "but your son wasn't listen on the rosters of enrollment. Is he adopted?"

Charlie nodded. "I got him from England."

Percy and Gabe shared a glance. "Really? How interesting." Percy pulled out a stack of papers. "These are transfer papers, to put Harry-Luke into the Kindergarten class at Salem. All the information is listed. And I wouldn't mention England if I were you. Their government is a bit whacked, and they might try to get Harry-Luke back."

"Tell people he's from Alaska. Over there is anarchy, they won't suspect a thing." Gabe smiled at Charlie, but it wasn't very reassuring. Slightly creepy, if anything.

"Can I think about it?" asked Charlie after a second.

Without a moment's hesitation, Parker and Carvhalo disappeared, leaving Charlie with the paperwork laid out on the table, and almost no understanding about the world he had just been thrust into.

I always thought Charlie might be a better parental figure if he'd had Bella more regularly as a kid. I mean, it would at least force him to learn how to cook, right?

~Wryder