A/N: This is my newest story. I have decided to try my hand at writing a crossover between Harry and the X-men.

Warning: This is a definite AU. The characters will more than likely not be in character as much as many would like. Then again, I'm not JK and cannot do them the justice she can. It is also a slash story. So if you don't like, then please don't read.

Summary: It's the summer after Harry's fifth year. He develops a new ability that some may consider to be magical, but in fact is a mutant ability. He soon finds himself going with Professor X to learn how to control his new power. At the same time a new threat is lurking on the horizon that will change the dynamics of the war.

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JK Rowling and Marvel, Inc respectively.

Also I want to give big thanks to NexusAntonids for going over this chapter and betaing it for me.

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Harry had been back, stuck with his horrible relatives for just over three weeks now. So far it was a much better summer than any of the previous ones. Sure, he was still forced to do a majority of the chores, but not all. Another difference that made it better was that he actually got food to eat. However, just because it better than the others didn't mean that his relatives wanted him around. No, the only reason for this happening had to do with what took place upon his arrival at Kings Cross. There his relatives had been told that under no circumstance were they to treat him badly by several Order of the Phoenix members.

Just because this summer was better didn't mean all that much too him. He was having nightmares just about every night that he would awaken from in a cold sweat, his body shaking uncontrollably and tears flowing down his face. The nightmares, most of them were about the night at the Department of Mysteries. Where he'd led several of his friends to in the belief that the only person who truly loved him; his godfather was being held prisoner by Voldemort and tortured for something. However, it turned out that the vision he'd had of this had been false and was in fact a trap specifically set for him. In the ensuing battle many members of the Order of the Phoenix, including his godfather arrived to rescue them. In the end he had helplessly watched as the man was sent through the strange fluttering veil that was known as the death veil, by his very own cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange.

It was also that very same night he found out by Albus Dumbledore that there was a prophecy regarding him and Voldemort. Basically, the prophecy stated that either one of them had to kill the other in the end. It was this that the evilest man known in the wizarding world that had caused him to be given a false vision; a vision that would ensure his attendance so that Voldemort would gain the knowledge of the entire prophecy after Harry had retrieved it from the shelf that it sat on. It was these nightmares that fueled his guilt over the death of Sirius.

Another thing about his nightmares was that they weren't all about that night. There were a few where he would find himself watching helplessly through the eyes of Voldemort as he tortured his followers or revealed in the pleasure of torturing and killing innocent people. It was these visions that he would wake from in pain from the various curses that had been used. They also fueled his guilt, not guilt because of what had happened to Sirius, but guilt that he couldn't help those that were innocent.

There was one good aspect so far, if you call it that. Unlike last summer, he was getting letters on a regular basis from his friends. Yet no matter what they wrote, they never told him much about what was happening in the wizarding world. Some days he couldn't help wonder if like last summer, they had been told not to tell him anything. He fervently hoped that was the case, and that it was simply a precaution on their part. After all, he didn't want them being intercepted and good old Voldemort finding out where he lived. Even though he already suspected that the snake-man did know where he lived.

It was now two days before his sixteenth birthday and once again he found himself in the throes of a nightmare, but this one was very different. He was in complete darkness, not even a pin prick of light could be seen. He felt fear rising within as he tried to move, only to find that he couldn't. It was as if he'd been hit with a, Petrificus Totalus. At this thought his breathing became erratic as he began fighting whatever held him. That is until he was stopped by a strange voice.

"You are a magnificent specimen. I will be pleased to make you mine. Yes, you will make a fine bird of prey. A knight most worthy you will make." The voice stated in its deep bass tone. Then it spoke once again. "This puny world will be mine as it should be." With that said, a laugh began to sound. Not any laugh, a laugh that was as deep as the deepest cavern, as low as the deepest roar a dragon could ever make, as cold as Pluto's atmosphere.

Harry felt a fear like none he'd ever felt before creep up his spine as he stood there frozen while the voice laughed. The fear he was feeling was far worse than any he'd ever felt before. He wanted to scream, to shout at this voice that he was not someone's knight or pawn, but he found that he was unable to speak. It was like a silencio had been cast on him as he was forced to listen to this voice. Then suddenly as if someone had conjured a bucket full of ice, he jumped up, wide awake with his heart feeling only the coldest of despairs.

This despair that he was feeling was far worse then he had been feeling ever since that night when he inadvertently caused Sirius to fall through the veil. He had started to come to terms with this little detail only a few days prior as he had sat in his small bedroom mulling over the entire event. Begrudgingly coming to the understanding that Sirius had done exactly what he was doing, trying to rescue the one person who meant the most to them. Still, even with this new found understanding, he knew that he was partly to blame because he had gone off half-cocked; forgetting the mirror that he received from Sirius and the fact that Snape was a member of the Order.

Sitting in the darkened room, the despair began to ebb away to be replaced with confusion and fear. His entire body began shaking uncontrollably as he relieved the nightmare in his mind's eye. His shaking was as bad as if he'd been hit by a crucio. While the nightmare replayed itself, he became certain that it had not been sent from Voldemort. But if it wasn't from him, then who was it from and why did they send it?

It was these questions that had popped into his brain as he tried to get himself under control.

It was well over twenty minutes before he managed to calm down. Even then those questions were still running through his head. He began to wonder if he should send a message to Dumbledore about it. After all, he always sent the man a message after any vision or nightmare he had of Voldemort. He debated this for awhile until he finally decided that since it wasn't a vision from Voldemort, then he didn't need to bother the Headmaster.

Yawning, he glanced over at the clock with squinted eyes and was able to make out that it was after two in the morning. Stretching a little, he decided that he needed to get some sleep before he would be awoken to cook his relatives their breakfast. He lay back down and burrowed under the ratty old blanket, closing his eyes he tried to go back to sleep, hoping that he wouldn't have another nightmare.

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A thousand miles away in a mansion in upstate New York where it was just after eight in the evening, a rather distinguished bald headed man of middle-age was wheeling himself down of the long hallways. He was heading directly for the strange metal door that stood at the end of the hall. This man had felt Harry's presence when said teen had awoken from his nightmare. At the same time he had also felt the presence of the voice from Harry's dream. The two things had caused him to come out of his meditative state rather abruptly. At the same time his gut began telling him that the boy he had sensed would be another one of his students. It was also telling him that he knew who the voice belonged to. If that was the case, then a situation of great importance was brewing, one that could and would be far more destructive than anyone had ever seen before.

This distinguished man was known as Professor Charles Xavier, better known as Professor X. He is known as a very powerful mutant in the United States. That doesn't mean that mutants don't live in other countries, it just means that he vast majority live in America. Where they try to blend in and live their lives without conflict.

Professor X was powerful because of his telepathic abilities, having the ability to communicate with anyone on a global level and even on a galactic level at times. He can even erase, create, and manipulate thought and memories of anyone. He can control the actions of others, mentally induce pain, paralysis, and even unconsciousness if he so chooses. This even includes going so far as to killing someone in their mind.

Professor X had another thing that made him well known. It was his mansion that was known as the Xavier Institute for the Gifted. It was a home and school for young mutants. He had created the school many years ago because of the fear and persecution that mutants received from the general populous. Even the families would persecute any mutant that was in their family for simply being different because of a gene that they had. It was for these reasons that the school had become a place to help nurture young mutants with their powers and live a life as normal as possible.

At the time of the founding of the school, he had also created a group that was known as the X-Men. It was this group that made up the majority of the teachers. Another thing they did was to protect both the mutant and non-mutant population from one another. The reason for this needed protection was two-fold. There are many mutants who believe that they are superior to humans because of their abilities and therefore should ruble the world. While on the other side, there were many people who wanted to either cage the mutants or destroy them completely.

He abhorred both these views, believing that both mutant and human can peacefully coexist. It was one of the things that he fought for every single day of his life. Remembering that it was views like this that had caused many horrible wars.

Reaching the door he waited until it opened so that he could enter. Inside the room there were banks of computers and various other pieced of equipment needed to operate the machine housed within. On one of the smaller counters in front of the computers was a metal helmet with wires leading to various computers. It was this that he was headed to

This set-up was known as Cerebro. Its function was to augment his telepathic ability, allowing him to locate any person in the world. Specifically it was programmed to find mutants wherever they may be, especially those who posed any kind of threat to humanity.

Cerebro had been a big help in finding students for the school, especially those that were currently residing within the walls of the mansion. It also helped in the successful recruitment of mutants that were like minded in their belief that one day they could live peacefully with every one else.

Placing the helmet on, he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to fill with the various thoughts and feelings of the world's population. He was able to distinguish those who were mutant and concentrated on them. As soon as he separated them from the others, he began zeroing in on the one that he had felt earlier in his meditative state.

It didn't take long before he found him in England. Narrowing it a little more he was able to find him in Surrey. He was then able to pick up on the person's surface thoughts since he didn't want to go any deeper without permission. The surface thoughts and feelings he was picking up wasn't much of a surprise to him, after all, most young mutants felt loneliness, despair and fear.

What did surprise him was the sheer power that he felt within this unknown mutant. It felt like waves of energy crashing into his brain. He hadn't felt anyone this powerful in very long time. Even then he'd only every felt one other person this powerful. It was when he and then partner, Erik Lehnsherr had gone to visit s young girl and her parents. The girl was like him, a telepath, but also was a telekinetic. This new mutant felt just as powerful as her, but in a very different way.

The last thing that had taken him by surprise was that he could sense this unknown was not young of age. In fact he felt more like he was around the age of fifteen. This was a little disturbing since most mutants showed their abilities at a much younger age then this.

Making a quick decision that he needed to get to England right away and meet this new mutant, he took the helmet off and placed it back on its stand. He quickly sent out a mental message to three of the x-men, telling them to meet him down in the hangar for a mission. With that done, he turned around and wheeled himself out of the room to go and meet the others, completely having forgotten the others presence that he had felt earlier.

A few minutes later, he wheeled into the hangar to see that the three men he had called were already there awaiting his arrival. The first one he noticed was Scott Summers, known as Cyclops because of the red visor that he wore at all times. He was a young man that he'd known for a few years now and had been one of the first to be recruited for the team.

Scott was a quiet man with a passion for cars. He was of average height and build but had the strength to hold his own when the needed arose. Currently he was the leader of the x-men because of his leadership skills. A stickler for the rules also helped with his position even though most of the rest of the team didn't like the strictness that he required of them. Still, he was a very loyal man and at times knew that the rules needed to be bent if not broken.

The second man waiting for him was a shorter stockier built man with a beard and a cigar sticking out of his mouth. Logan, better known to every one as Wolverine was the complete opposite of Scott. He was loud, rude, and very crude at all times. He enjoyed breaking the rules, saying that rules were meant to be broken. Another thing was that he would tell you how it was whether you like it or not. Still, he was a good man or he would never have become part of the team. He was just a man who had a lot of issues that he needed to work out.

The third and final person waiting for him was Robert Drake, Iceman to most, and Bobby to his friends. He was like Scott in height and build. Bobby was one of the newer and younger members of the team; being only sixteen. He was one of those guys who liked giving fun, telling jokes and getting into trouble like most teenagers. But what made him an ideal member for the team was the control that he had over his mutant ability.

Reaching the three men, he quickly filled them in on what transpired earlier, resulting in their need to go to England right a way.

"With all due respect, Professor, why do we need to go now? It doesn't sound as if this mutant is a threat at the moment." Scott said his voice ringing with confusion.

"You're right Scott he is not a threat at the moment. That however is not the reason for this trip. From what I was able to discern with the help of Cerebro he is as powerful as Jean is. I was also unable to discern exactly what is mutant ability is. I also know that he is or will be unable to control these powers without the proper training. It is for these reasons that this trip is needed," Professor X explained calmly aware that they needed to know more than just the basics like he had first told them.

"Professor, why am I here? Surely, Cyclops and Wolverine are more than enough power if something should go wrong."

"You're right Bobby, but that is not why I want you on this mission. The reason is because this mutant that we are going to meet is about your age. I would feel more comfortable having someone there who is around his age that can sympathize with him." Bobby blushed lightly at the compliment that the man just gave him.

"Chuck, if he's as powerful as Jeanie, then why have we not known about him before now," Wolverine asked in his gruff manner while stubbing his cigar out with the palm of his hand.

"I don't know the answer to that Logan. I'm hoping that he may be able to explain that to us all. But right now we need to get going and meet our young Mr. Potter."

"That's his name," Scott said.

"Yes, Harry Potter. I was able to gather that with the help of Cerebro," was the reply from Xavier as he set his wheelchair in motion towards the ramp of the Blackbird.

Soon the jet was rising up out of the cavern on its way to England. Unknown to the passengers on board they would find themselves involved in a war that they would have gladly stayed out of if given the chance. Not to mention a fight to help someone find their own way in the world.

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It was currently four thirty in the morning in England. The Ministry of Magic was as silent as a crypt except for the occasional sounds of people moving around. They were there to capture any would-be trespassers or that intended on doing damage. They'd always been there for the reasons, but the team had been enlarged quite a bit in the past month.

Now there were three stationed on every floor of the building and six in the atrium. This had been an immediate order from Amelia Bones, Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department after the battle that took place at the beginning of June that led to the public announcement of Voldemort's return to life. Not to mention the trespass of Harry Potter and several of his friends into not only the building but the Department of Mysteries as well, resulting in Voldemort and several of his followers also entering the supposedly secured building.

At the present time, down in the Department of Mysteries a strange event was unfolding. To be more specific, it was unfolding within the room known as the Death Chamber, where a strange veil fluttered in an unknown wind. A brilliant light had begun to emanate from the veil as it grew in size and brightness. Soon it encompassed the entire chamber and if any of the guards had walked in at the moment, they would have been blinded from the sheer intensity of it.

Then just as quick as it had come it was gone, plunging the room back into its dimly lit self. In its place a man now lay face down on the ground just in front of the veil with black matted hair. The man wasn't moving, not a single twitch could be seen, giving the impression that he was dead. This was made even more certain by the paleness of the man's skin.

Then suddenly an arm moved then a leg twitched, indicating that the man was alive. A few more minutes past as the body slowly moved and twitched as if coming to life for the first time. In one quick move the head jerked up and the eyes snapped open to reveal blue eyes. The eyes didn't look as alive as the body was acting as they had a haunted look to them as if the person had seen hell and lived through it.

The stranger jumped to his feet only to stagger slightly from the obvious disuse of his legs. While his eyes were darting every which way, taking in the room that he was currently in. It was at the precise moment that his eyes fell onto the veil that his mind was flooded with memories. He was forced to close his eyes as he remembered coming here to rescue his godson only to end up battling his 'loving' cousin. The spell hitting him and how he flew back into the veil, helpless as he heard his godson's voice calling him.

Soon the memories passed on and his eyes snapped open once again. This time they didn't look as haunted but determined. He needed to get out of there before anyone saw him or he'd be given the Dementor's Kiss like the Ministry had ordered.

Then there was the need to get to his godson and let him know that he was alive, but how was he going to do that was the question.

He began pacing slowly as he tried to think of a way out of this mess. He knew he couldn't just walk out the door even in his animagus form. An idea struck him, one that he was certain wouldn't work, but he had try. Closing his eyes, he began to think about Harry and he wanted to be with him. Suddenly, a small pop echoed throughout the room and a small plume of smoke appeared where he once stood.

The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to see that he was standing on a street corner. Looking up he noticed that the street sign said he was at the corner of Magnolia Crescent and Privet Drive. A slow smirk appeared on his face at the realization that he wasn't far from where he had wanted to be. But how he got here was a mystery since he knew that he couldn't have apparated out of the ministry.

Remembering where he was he began to look around hoping that no one was out and about. After all, he didn't want to be seen now that he was so close in seeing his godson once again. Assured that he hadn't been he took off down Privet Drive making sure to stay in the shadows, certain that there would be someone guarding Harry from the Order of the Phoenix.

He reached the side of the house were Harry lived and crouched down. He sighed in relief when no one came running across the street, brandishing a wand at him. Now all he had to do was get into the house. Deciding that the only thing he could do without raising the alarm of the guard was to see if he could duplicate how he got out of the ministry.

Closing his eyes and concentrating on Harry once again there was another small pop and smoke before he vanished. This time he opened his eyes to find himself exactly where he wanted to be. Looking around for Harry he took in the room with a disgusted expression. Even in the dark his eyes were able to see the pile of broken toys and gadgets, the old beat up desk standing near the window. His eyes came to an abrupt stop as they landed on the broken down bed, an old worn out blanket with holes was covering a small heap that was thrashing about wildly.

Completely forgetting that he was supposed to be dead he rushed over to the bed and bent down. Grabbing the shoulders tightly he began to shake the person lightly as he tried to get them to awaken.

"Harry, Harry, wake up," Sirius said in concern. "It's just a nightmare. Come on Pup wake up for me."

He was getting more and more worried for Harry as he stepped back to think. He'd been so certain that Harry would wake up with him shaking him a little and calling to him. He was beginning to feel useless as he watched his godson thrash about on the bed. It was like all those other times when he couldn't be there for the boy.

He was quickly brought out of his depressing thoughts when he heard Harry's voice call out to him. But before he could rush over and respond to the plea, his heart broke. Not only did he hear calling his name, but he was asking for forgiveness, begging to be forgiven for having gotten him killed.

It was this plea that caused a new resolve to come over him. He would be damned if he allowed Harry to believe that in any way was he responsible for what had happened. Taking a deep breath he yelled, "Harry James Potter, get your arse up now!"

His yell didn't have quite the desired effect as he watched Harry sit bolt upright, his hands thrust out in front of him as if he were trying to protect himself. A bolt of lightning suddenly burst from his hands, striking him directly in the chest and sending him flying backwards into the wall. He slammed his head against the wall before sliding down it and sinking into sweet oblivion.

Having been awakened by someone shouting his name, Harry looked around in the darkness with wild eyes. He was certain that there was an intruder somewhere within the room. It didn't take long for him to realize that he couldn't see them because he didn't have his glasses on. Besides, he was unarmed as well because of having placed his wand on the nightstand.

Grabbing his wand and putting his glasses on, he flipped the small lamp on so he could see. It was then when his eyes grew wide in disbelief at seeing Sirius Black unconscious across the room from him. His shock quickly gave way to worry knowing that this man could not be Sirius.

'This has to be a trick. He's a deatheater in disguise. I just know,' he thought as he stood up and slowly made his way over to the unconscious man. Those thoughts changed quickly as he remembered his relatives. 'I hope they didn't hear anything. I don't want to deal with them now.' He thought as he stopped in front of the man while keeping his wand trained on the prone figure.

His worry changed when he noticed that the man had yet to move. Now all he was feeling was anger. It was boiling so much that it felt as if his blood was going to pour out of his skin.

'How dare this murderer pretend to be Sirius,' he thought as he gave the man a swift kick in the ribs. His anger was starting to get the better of him as he kept on kicking him, wanting the murderer to wake up. His anger was so great that he was sorely tempted in killing the man even if it did mean he would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. His kicks became move vicious as he received no reply from the man and having forgotten that he was still holding his wand.

After awhile he was able to calm down seeing that he had done quite a bit of damage to the man. Deciding he would just wait for the man to wake up, he stepped back towards his bed, making sure that he kept his wand trained on the man.

It was a good ten minutes later before Sirius moaned in pain. His entire body felt like it had been trampled by a Hippogriff. He slowly moved from his crumpled position as his eyes fluttered opened. He was forced to immediately close them once again when all he saw was a blurry picture and everything seemed to be spinning in circles.

He wasn't going to give this man a chance to fully recover before he got answers to the questions he had. Besides, he knew it would also give him a chance to figure out what to do with him. Or until Hedwig finally returned from her hunt so that he could send a message to the Order for help. Taking a tentative step forward, his voice cold, he asked," How are you? How the hell did you get in?"

"Harry, it's me Sirius." The man replied as he slowly opened his eyes once again.

"No you're not Sirius! He died! Now just who the hell are you and why are you here?" Harry said his voice beginning to rise in anger once again. 'How dare this man continue to pretend that he's Sirius,' Harry thought.

"No, I didn't die. It really is me," Sirius tried again to convince Harry.

"Bull shit, he died! I saw him die," Harry yelled not caring if the Dursleys heard him not. This man was trying to his temper and he was certain that he would do something he would regret.

"Harry, Pup, it really is me. I don't know how, but I'm not dead," Sirius said again as he slowly began to get to his feet. "What can I do or say that will prove to you that I really am me," he half asked, half pleaded with his godson.

This took Harry by surprise. No deatheater would ever ask or plead to prove what they said was true. Though he was reluctant to admit it, the man so far had yet to attack him; which was by far not the action of someone out to kill him. Therefore, he made a quick decision and hoped that it would be a good one for once.

"All right, I'll ask you a question." Taking a deep breath he asked, "What did you give me for Christmas?"

Sirius smiled though it was more of grimace because of the pain he was in. He couldn't help thinking that the question was probably the easiest and best one that Harry could have asked him. "I gave you a magical mirror. I also told you that I had the other one and you could contact me on it anytime you wanted."

Harry's eyes grew wide at the correct answer. No one knew that, not even his friends. Sirius had given him that mirror in private before he had returned to Hogwarts. His hands began shaking at the thought that this could really be Sirius he decided that one more thing was needed before he could be certain. "One last thing before I make my decision about you. If you are Sirius, then show me Snuffles." This was the big one and he knew it. If it were a deatheater in disguise then the man couldn't show him the dog.

"You know I hate that name," Sirius whined but agreed right away to do it, though he was in pain. With a small pop a huge black dog now stood where the man had just been standing. Another pop and he was once again a man, though he was holding his left side where his ribs hurt.

Harry's wand clattered to the floor as he stared open-mouthed at the man that he believed to be dead. His heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if it would explode at any second. Without warning he was overwhelmed by the guilt that he harbored for believing that the man he had slowly began to love and trust died because of him. Tears of both joy and pain filled his eyes and began running down his face as he launched himself at the now smiling man.

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Yes, I have brought Sirius back from the dead. I am one of those who just think it was wrong for J.K. to have killed him off. She could have killed anyone else but him in my opinion. Yes, I did make Sirius a mutant. I have plans for him and he needed to become one.

Now as for the X-Men, you will see that I will be using all resources for them. I liked the movies, but I also want to add more of the comics into this story. So, for those who read this that know a lot about the X-Men, you will see a lot of different things.

Please leave me a review and let me know what you think