Harry Potter Harry Potter, Raised By Gods

Disclaimer: This is purely fanfiction, I don't own any recocnisable characters or places, nor do I make money from this.

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It was a distinctively normal day in Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The autumn wind was blowing the first signs of the coming winter through the still colourful leaves of the trees. Only the evergreens seemed to stand against the coldest season and felt as if they were bristling with life. It was sunny and that itself was very surprising, for autumn held seldom warmth in his giving hands. The sky was of a wonderful blue and there were still the voices of many little birds singing their hail to the warm sun.

But then there had been nothing resembling normalcy in the last few days going on. That is, if one knew what to look for. The colours of the leaves were just a tad too bright and the wind blew a little bit too soft. The cold he brought with him was just that much too gentle. The evergreens were just bristling with too much life for this season. The sky was too blue for autumn. There were too many birds singing with voices too beautiful for being real. But no one thought of that, they enjoyed the beautiful weather of this unusual late autumn.

So were the inhabitants of 4 Privet Drive. Ah, but not all of them. There was a little boy, no older than three, who was trying to reach a cabinet in the kitchen. Why, you might ask, was he reaching for something he obviously could not reach yet? It was because his aunt had asked him to bring her and her husband, who was coddling his three-year old son, a glass of water to cool then from the late afternoon sun. This, of course, was normal for the family, as they did not like the dark haired toddler particularly well. Au contraire, they downright despised him, but had promised a very powerful and convincing man to take care of him or face the consequences. They had never liked the sort of man he was, but what he could do when they wouldn't take the, at that time, infant in, they would rather not face.

As always when Harry Potter tried to do something he could impossibly do, something strange happened. The first time this had happened was when the blanked had fallen out of his tiny crib and he had cried for it, but his aunt, who had come into the room, had not picked it up. She had been very sure that the barely seventeen month old boy could do just fine, even without the blanket. He did, once the infantile mind had understood that this person in the doorway would not pick it up for him. The blanked had flown to him, slowly but surely. Then it had wrapped itself around him and he had fallen asleep. Of course Harry could not remember these things, but the three-year old child did it again. The glasses floated to him, as had the blanked. He filled them with ice cold water from the fridge and brought the glasses outside.

His aunt did not thank him, neither did his uncle. They acknowledged him with a curt nod and turned to their son, effectively making the other toddler feel very lonely and unloved. In the back of young Harry's mind was something that told him it had not always been like this, that there had been a time where it was him, who had been loved, that it was him, who had held all the eyes of those around him. He did not mind this thing, for he could not ask about it.

That was what he had learnt.

_Do not ask._

The inhabitants of Privet Drive were all doing their usual business, as the little family in number 4. They weeded their front lawns, cut their privet bushes or simply enjoyed the sunny weather. It was until from the very first house the man saw someone walk by that the normalcy held. Suddenly the people became aware, that something very unusual was happening and was going to happen very soon. A kind of mist was lifted off of them, but still, they ignored it and with it the person heading down the road.

The person was clad in long hazel trousers made of a fabric akin to silk, but it did not shimmer the way silk did. The person was a woman, if not her coat or hair told, then her three-inch heels did as they clacked softly on the road. Her coat was hip-long and dark red, around her waist was a belt of the same hazel colour her trousers were. Her hair was a stunning gold and fell in loose waves to the middle of her back. Her presence disrupted the unusual day.

The woman stopped in front of the driveway to the house number four. Behind her the exceptional normalcy had drifted back in. The man in number one, who had seen her, could not remember the short thought of how strange things had been in the last days the moment he ceased to hear the heels clattering on the pavement.

She watched the house intently, seeing things others chose not to see. Then she raised her long fingered hand to touch the things she had seen. For a few moments it seemed as if everything had stopped, the rustling of the leaves, the pitter-patter of grains on the street, the roar of the traffic far away and life itself. It passed and everything went back to normal. Or abnormal as it had been the last few days.

The woman went to the door and rang the bell.

Harry Potter had heard the doorbell and watched his relatives decide if they wanted to see who it was. They had not awaited visitors for today, or else Harry would sit quietly on the floor in front of the couch, making no noise and waiting for the permission to leave his spot. His aunt locked eyes with his uncle and they agreed on something neither had voiced. Sometimes Harry tried to understand, too, but he never did.

His aunt stood up and went to the door. His uncle lifted Dudley out of his high chair and motioned for Harry to go inside, then he also went to the door, where Aunt Petunia was now talking friendly with the unknown person. As soon as Vernon Dursley stopped in front of the woman, Dudley behind his legs laughed shyly. The woman looked smiling at the young boy and reached out to pat his head, glancing at his father for approval. She was granted it and Dudley squealed in delight, making both his parents wonder just who this woman was.

Petunia invited her in and she gratefully accepted the offer. The door closed behind her and this was the moment Petunia Dursley had the feeling that this may be just a bit better than she hoped for. That of course wasn't hard to achieve, the dark haired woman after all just hoped for pleasant company for a cup of tea. The woman was pleasing to look at and had a voice sounding like wind chimes. Had it not been very unusual the last days, Petunia may have viewed things differently, but as it wasn't, she didn't.

"You have a lovely house, Mrs Dursley," the woman said and sat down on the couch after having been offered a seat. "And a wonderful boy if I may say so."

Aunt Petunia laughed delightedly at the compliment and sat down opposite of her, giving the strange woman a cup of tea. Her husband and son sat next to her. Both she and Vernon's mind it slipped, that Harry now sat at the feet of this woman. They took pleasure in doing small talk with her, but it was in the air that the woman was not here for just that. She proved them right when she placed the beautiful teacup on the table and looked up, the mood suddenly serious.

"Mrs Dursley, I assume that you know I didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries with you. And I hope this matter to be over rather swiftly so I can leave you to your perfectly normal life," she said, but the adults knew she was hinting that she knew of Harry.

Cautiously Petunia asked her: "What is it? We both would like to help you very much if it grants us some sense of normalcy."

The woman smiled and only now Petunia saw her eyes, really saw them. They were of a stunning blue, almost colourless in the lack of pigments and the smile lighted something very old and unbelievingly strong in them. However cold the colour, the eyes blazed with warmth enough to envelope the world and burn it to its foundations.

"It concerns this young child here," she said and indicated to Harry, who now watched her curiously. "And what he is. Before you now object to anything I say, I would like you to think about what I said just for a moment."

Too stunned to do anything else Petunia regarded the woman. She did not seem like the rest of _those people _and made a clearly lucid impression. The dark haired of the women looked at Vernon, who was very close to a temper tantrum, but when he saw her pleading gaze he calmed a bit, as to allow the blonde to continue. This alone should have alerted Petunia, as she now knew what the woman was capable of, to the abnormality of this situation. Still, she waited for the woman to continue.

"I am perfectly aware that you do not want to have him here, but were forced to do so by someone you both greatly fear, despite of never having seen him. I know that man and I know also that he is capable of really force you to keep Harry, but I know more than both of you do concerning Harry's presence here.

"There are protections around this house, held by the blood you and your nephew share, that make this house one of the most secure existing here if not the safest one. These protections will also warn this man should an unfamiliar person like me leave with Harry, because this man fears that happening. I can offer you assurance that if you let me take young Harry with me, this man will be incapable of finding out that Harry left until Harry meets this man face to face. I can also offer you to forget my visit, but not Harry, should he want to ask you just why Harry is no longer with you."

"Will these so-called protections fail once the boy leaves?" Vernon asked, looking if keeping the child would ensure the freaks to stay away. Even though he didn't like his nephew he would put up with him, if that secured his family.

"Yes, they would fall when Harry meets that man, but no one like that man would want you any harm. I can offer you such a protection, but I cannot do more I am afraid."

The boy in question looked from one adult to the other, his cousin having left outside once he was bored. Harry did not understand. Who was that man they talked of? What kind of protections? Was the woman going to take him with her? But most dominant was one heartbreakingly simple question: _Would this woman love me?_

Petunia nodded slowly. Then she asked: "What will we tell if they ask why Harry left and we can't remember you?"

The woman chuckled, it was a worryingly lovely sound. "You will say that he has found a place so secure that every protection pales in comparison and that you know he is safe. They will not be able to gather more information about him from you, I can assure you. Will you let me take him with me?"

Petunia glanced at Vernon, but his look clearly said it was her decision, he had always supported her when it came to her sister's family and he would support her now, too. She looked out to her son, playing with a tuft of grass and ripping out more, and back to the woman. Could she trust her promises? It did not cross her mind that this could be some sort of test and she really did consider keeping the boy, but eventually her wish to forget her older sister overruled every other reason Petunia could think of.

"Yes, take him with you. I cannot give him what he needs most, I see that. It was presumptuous of anyone to think differently, after all I did not like Lily much," Petunia said, mentioning for the first time the name of Harry's mother in his presence. "Though I did not wish for her to die and find myself despite everything mourning my sister from time to time. I would welcome it if you took Harry and raised him as yours."

The woman inclined her head, her smile benign. "Then I will take him. I appreciate your honesty, Petunia Evans, for I know it is hard for you to admit what you told me. Please accept my promise to do my utmost to keep this world separated from yours."

"We will, thank you very much," Petunia said. Finally the ghosts of a past she did not want seemed to leave.

The woman stood up and held a hand out to Harry. He looked questioningly at it and then up to her face, frowning. Choosing not to say anything he took the offered hand and was immediately hoisted up into her arms. He snuggled against her chest and was carried out, his aunt seeing them to the door. Once the woman stepped out on the porch she turned around and bid good-bye. The door closed behind her. Only now Petunia Dursley realized that the woman had never given her name, and that the woman had called her by her maiden name.

She again stood watching the house, seeing things others chose not to see. She raised her hand to touch what she had seen and something changed around the house. It was neither breeze nor feeling, but it was definitely there, locked firmly in the ground and around the whole town a ward made of blood. Then the moment passed and everything went back to the abnormal normalcy of the last few days.

The woman turned again to the end of Privet Drive, the young boy still in her arms. He had watched her curiously as she touched empty air, but had failed to see what she clearly saw there. Instead he had felt the nearly imperceptible change and had idly wondered if his relatives could now still remember the blond woman.

Once they had left Privet Drive and were walking down Tulip Road, Harry swallowed his nervousness. He was not sure if this woman had the same rules Aunt Petunia had, but he desperately needed to ask something. If it was an emergency, he surely was allowed to ask, wasn't he?

"Miss? Where are we going?" he peeped from his spot in her arms. Immediately she looked down to him and smiled a very nice smile and Harry saw it was a special kind of smile, one that was only for him.

"We are going to my home, Harry Potter. From now on onwards I will be your guardian," she answered kindly.

Harry nodded shyly. "What do I call you, Miss?"

The woman laughed. He did not know why she did, then she gave an answer: "You can call me Freya or Mother, but everything you like is okay."

"Can I call you mum?" he had never had a mum, well, he did, but he couldn't remember her.

This time the woman shook her head. "No, Harry, no, you can't call me mum. I do not wish to take the special place of Lily from you, but you can call me Mother. Many have called me that, but I was never mother myself."

Harry did not understand, but nodded nevertheless. He had not noticed where they had walked to in this short time, but he looked around when Freya stopped. They were standing in front of an impressive building, it had many towers and the windows were all stained glass and where light shone through the top of one of the towers it reflected beautifully on the lush grass. The building itself was a natural white and seemed to glow from within. Harry felt his mouth hang open and closed it, he turned to look with wide eyes at Freya.

"Welcome home, Harry."

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Thank you for reading this :) I hope you liked it! Please leave a review saying what you thought of it, I'm not entirely sure if I should continue... Though if someone follows it or something I guess I'll write on, then someone likes it, ne?

Well, enough of the talking. See you in the next chapter?

RedMamba


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Harry Potter, Supernatural