A/N: Sorry for the wait, busy with school and such. Anyways, here is chapter two; it is not editted yet, so any criticism is welcomed so long as it is not flaming.

This is for all you reviewers who inspired me to keep going with this story!

Enjoy!

For minutes, it felt as though time had stopped.

Tension thick enough to choke the unwary distilled the air; it was like someone had dropped a bomb over Privet Drive. Harry could hear his heart beat slowly, barely aware of the cold sweat trickling down his forehead. He stared at the stranger, the man sitting before him, mind tumbling about like a dust cloud. Words failed him, his voice torn away the moment he came in line of those golden eyes.

The man made a sound of amusement, tilting his head to the side; it was as if their encounter was of no surprise.

"You look like a cat~" he stated, a playful note in his tone.

Harry, pulled back into reality (barely), blinked in astonishment.

"Huh?"

He must have looked very foolish, for the man chuckled humorously. Out of trance, the boy got a better look at the oriental stranger. Slender, yet well-built, he appeared very young in appearance – perhaps no older than the early twenties. Yet he had some soft curves and edges, giving a more feminine look. Harry was no so guilty with confusion the man as a woman at first glance. His hair was of no help, reaching down to his mid-back – sleek and silky. Yet the broad shoulders and over structure of the body proved that notion wrong, besides the obvious – not to mention the deeper voice.

On that note, was the man's accent – it was rather thick, sometimes mulling up his English pronunciations; it was foreign, yet Harry felt as though he had heard it before. Questions ran through his mind, the first slipping from his mouth before he could stop it.

"Sorry… Who are you?"

The man suddenly pouted, giving him a hurt look – much like a wounded animal.

"You don't remember?" he asked, almost child-like.

Harry's mouth opened and closed, uncomfortable with the situation. He hadn't meant to offend the other, it just came out accidently. Yet, in his worrying, he failed to notice the glimmer of amusement in the stranger's eyes. It dragged on until the man could no longer hold it back.

Harry jumped slightly as the man began to laugh – first muffled, then right out loud. He shook his head, hair falling in front of his face as he flopped upon he grass. Harry had no idea what to say or do, completely bewildered. He just prayed his neighbours would not awaken to the loud sound of chortling. Wheezing, the man wiped a tear from his eye, glancing apologetically upside down at the body.

"Ah, forgive me Háizi, but your expression was too much, aru…" he chuckled.

Harry's face must have been written over with confusion, as the man chortled softly again, running a hand down his face.

"It's alright, I was only toying with you… No need to feel upset" he smiled, the gesture friendly and warm.

"A-Ah… I see. But I'm sorry, I still don't know you… what are doing in my backyard?" Harry questioned, trying to calm his frantic heart.

The man shrugged.

"The closet was too stuffy, and I wished to see the moon tonight… So I came out here for some fresh air."

Harry decided there and then, if he could win the award for the most confused person in England he would have won five minutes ago. Now all he could do was let what was left of his knowledge with any of this die away like a flower in winter. He tried to put together what the man had said, yet nothing seemed to fit. He had no recollection of letting someone into the house with him, let alone into any of the closets. He did not recall, either, of there being anyone else home at all beside him and the dog-

He paused, realization clicking in his brain. The boy glanced up, meeting the golden eyes so familiar to him. The fire burning within them was as intense as before, something he mentally slapped himself for not noticing earlier – it was obvious, yet he knew that statement alone would fly over anyone's head. After, who would except this out of all things in reality?

"You're him, aren't you? The dog… the one I brought home" he said slowly as if in disbelief (he was, slightly).

The man smiled more so, a soft chuckle escaping him in amusement and satisfaction.

"Ah, so it has come to you, aru~"

Harry should have excepted it, he knew he should have known better. Of course, being forced to live in a magic-less world for a good two months had left him a little drier than he would like to admit. Normally, people would not experience these kinds of instances. But he, Harry Potter, was wizard of almost four years, and he had come learn that reality for him was anything but normal. At least this explained the unusual, human-like behaviours.

"You're and animagi?" he ased cautiously; he still wasn't completely certain with this man, regardless if he had known him for a few days now.

To his surprise, the man gave him a confused look.

"Ani-what?" he questioned, looking at Harry like he was nuts.

Well, that answered that question…

"I mean, you can transform from a human to animal and back…"

"Not by my own will, if that is what you are implying, Háizi…"

Harry blinked, surprised by the statement. The man sighed and looked away, muttering something under his breath – it was a different language, one Harry did not understand. Yet he caught onto a few English sentences, such as, "…Wouldn't be here right now…" and "…It's his fault, that idiot…"

"S-Sorry… but did you say you can't control your transformation?"

The man nodded, a troubled expression on his face. "Shi, I have no control over any of this… Nor can I break it, even if I wanted to…"

Harry wanted to ask more, but he suddenly became aware of the state of his companion. A steady tint of red flushed upon his cheeks, his face feeling hot with embarrassment. Clearing his throat, he straightened himself out and motioned to the man.

"Um… Sorry, I forgot you weren't, um…"

"Naked?" the man raised an eyebrow; was that not obvious?

"Y-Yeah… Here, it's going to get colder soon… L-Let's get inside before it rains…"

"There aren't any clouds tonight, aru; they will not weep upon us this night" came the dry response.

Nonetheless, the man stood and brushed himself off (Harry adverted his eyes, still blushing like a stop light). The boy headed back towards the house, the older male following behind him. Hedwig hooted softly, perched upon the Oriental's shoulder. She appeared to have taken a fond liking to the strange man. Coming into the kitchen, Harry immediately began searching for something to help cover up the man, even if only a bit.

"Don't bother; I'll just use a towel, aru" the older said, walking off in the direction of the bathroom. Harry bit his lip, feeling very nerve-wracked at the moment. He trudged over to the kitchen table, settling down with a sigh. Resting his head in his hand, he swore quietly to himself. What was he going to do now? The situation had just become bigger than he would have liked.

"You will get acne if you keep your hands to your face like that~"

Harry started, for the umpteenth time that night, staring wide eyed at the man sitting across from him. A large towel was wrapped around his body, concealing it from view. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the man was at least covered for now.

They remained in silence for a while, neither one looking at the other. Finally, the older male sighed in defeat, turning his gaze back to the boy.

"I suppose you want an explanation?" he mused, an expectant look on his face.

Harry hesitated, yet nodded almost shyly. Some reasoning behind all of this would be good to hear.

"I do not remember much of that night. I and some colleagues of mine were downtown, in London I believe. We were attending a party of some sort – I don't remember what for – but something happened. All I can recall is explosions, people in black pointing short sticks, and a flash of light. That is it."

Harry stared as the man finished his story, mouth slightly a gap. From the man's explanation, it sounded as though the man had been hit with a spell or curse of some sort. But by sounds of it, he appeared to have little or no connections to the magical world what so ever. Harry frowned; this was a problem. He had no idea how to help the other, but he wasn't willing to refuse him either.

"Have you tried to find your friends? Do you know who they are?"

He shook his head.

"Sadly, I have tried, but found no traces of them. I cannot seem to seek them out either – something has mulled my senses as a dog. It is also troublesome, I might mention, that I cannot leave this country either."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Wait, what do you mean you cannot leave?"

"I have tried at night to depart to my homeland, but every time I tried to leave England or cross a border, something seemed to tug me back. I felt like I was attached to something, something I could not remove myself from – until this spell was broken, at least."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, but the next second his expression faded to grey. He sighed, shoulders slumping – in that instant, Harry could almost swear the man looked years older than he should have been. He remembered the many scars on the other's body, and suddenly became curious.

"Sorry to intrude… but who are you exactly?"

"I apologize, but my identity is something I would rather not give out. It's for a reason I cannot tell you, you must understand. But my name…"

He turned his head up, golden eyes sharpening.

"I am Wang Yao."

The sunlight trickled through the window, falling gently upon the sleeping figure of the boy. Harry snuffled softly, hand curling on the fabric of his pillow. It was Saturday; his first official day free of chores for who knows how long. He did not want to get up for at least another hour – in all due respect, at the end of the day he was still a teenaged boy. He liked to sleep in whenever he got the chance.

Lying onto of the blankets at the foot of the bed, Yao – as Harry had learned to call him – snorted roughly. He sleep like he was – in simplest terms – dead; lying spayed out like a ragdoll, mouth open and tongue out. Unfortunately, the man-turned-dog had chosen to lie in the direct line of sunlight.

Hereby, getting light in his face; growling in discomfort, Yao winced as he opened his eyes to the intense glare. Yelping as it blinded him for a brief moment, he rolled out of the way and onto his sleeping companion. Harry grunted, burying his face into his pillow; he was not getting up this morning.

Yao merely watched the boy with interest; there was definitely something else to this child. He frowned inwardly; the boy was barely past thirteen. He was living on his own by then; but he knew that these days children were more or less dependent. To leave one alone at this age in this era… irresponsible. Sighing, he shook his head in dismay; to say the least, he would be lying if he did not see a lot of himself in the boy.

It was that notion that stirred up maternal instincts.

'Aiyaa… What has become of childhood?' he mused regretfully.

It was not until noon did Harry decide to get up. If it wasn't for Hedwig's hooting, he probably could have slept until nightfall. Yawning and stretching, he passed a disgruntled look to his owl, who returned the gesture in an instant. She sat perched on his window sill, something tied to her leg. Harry realized it was a letter, alongside a parcel.

He struggled out of bed, tangled up in the sheets – Yao watched in amusement – tumbling over to the window.

"About time" Hedwig seemed to say, as he untied the mail from her talons.

Clicking her beak at him, she swooped into the room, landing gracefully upon Yao's back. Burying her head into her feathers, she went to sleep as the dog yawned lazily in suit. Harry, meanwhile, was preoccupied with the contents of the letter.

It was from Ron, an invitation to the Quidditch World Cup. Despite the excitement rising up, Harry frowned. The Durselys would never let him go, not even if it meant getting out of their hair for the rest of the summer. If there was one thing his relatives hated more than his presence in general, it was giving him any means of enjoyment. It appeared to be their lives' goal to make him miserable.

He sighed, folding the letter up and placing it upon his desk. He would love to go, really he would. But that was clearly out of the question. On the other hand, it could mean less trouble considering…

He paused for a moment before groaning in dismay; what was he going to do about Yao though? He could not turn him out, but leaving him behind was not an option either. He supposed he could bring him with him, but what would he do night?

Yao glanced at him warily, getting an idea of what was going through the boy's head.

However, while he did not object to going, he knew he was risking it. Yet, he knew that moving into the country would draw his trail away from everything else. It would be better protection, and perhaps he could find some momentary peace there.

Harry sighed softly, glancing out the window.

Pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, he decided to do what came naturally to him when he was troubled – write to Sirius.

He watched as Hedwig set off into the evening sky.

In his letter, he had expressed his concern about the Cup and the Durselys, but had refrained from mentioning the dog to his Godfather. He felt it was better that his finding of Yao remained secret; the fact that the man was unwilling to say who he was gave Harry the message that he would rather not have people know about him at all. Yet, he did not come across as a bad person – yet at the same time, Harry would not call him completely "good" either. Something about him spoke of a past filled with regret and mistakes, alongside judgement and other things.

Despite it all, Harry felt he could trust Yao.

Lying back on his bed, he watched as the last few rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon. He sighed, mentally impatient for his Godfather to respond. Darkness fell over the vicinity of Privet Drive, the stars climbing out into the sky. Yao sat in the chair by the desk, gazing distantly as the moon rose up.

Harry stirred awake to find the dog had once again transformed, the man currently tying a towel around his waist. Yawning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sitting up.

"You sleep a lot when you are not busy…" Yao remarked, double-checking his knot.

"Haven't gotten a good sleep in a while" Harry defended, scratching the bad of his head.

He felt bad, seeing as Yao was basically forced to were nothing but a towel. Looking at the man, he noted the height difference. Despite the man being older than he was, he was only a few inches taller than him.

"Why are you staring at me like that, aru?"

He jumped slightly, startled by the question. Embarrassed, he admitted his reason to the Oriental man. Yao quirked an eyebrow, yet his expression was one of humorous intent.

"I see… I have not worried so much about that since the day I followed you here. Mainly because anything I wear falls off by morning" he replied.

"So… Did you have other clothes for night before I met you?"

"Indeed. I remember where I placed them morning I found you sitting alone at the bus stop…"

"Just a question, why did you come to me anyways?"

"I like tea."

"A-Ah…" Harry half wondered if the man was truthfully, yet he knew better than to inquire further.

Yao brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, turning to the window.

"The night is still young aru~ There is time to search the alleyway…" he sighed, shaking his head in dismay. "Yet, though I do wish to go, I fear the nightlife is no place for child…"

"Umm…" Harry didn't know what to say, but he felt a little bothered by the man's statement.

He wasn't helpless, he knew how to fight and defend himself if he needed; for the love of God, he had been a wizard for four years now. Having fought a demented teacher, a giant serpent, and a hoard of soul-sucking Dementors, he felt confident to say he had been through enough to consider himself experienced.

"I've taken on worse before, believe me… I'm not helpless-"

Yet, to his dismay, Yao only shook his head.

"Worse only to your belief; you have not seen horror or destruction yet…" he stated somberly, a colder, distant look upon his face.

Harry was mentally too exhausted to argue back.

How he managed to convince Yao he was capable to look after himself was beyond Harry's knowledge. As the two sat on the bus heading to town, he took a glance over at the sleeping Wolfdog. They had decided, in the end, to wait until day break before heading out. Yao would allow Harry to go, but his paranoia had override him to the point he would not let the younger male set foot in any alleyway until the sun was up.

Even then, he had fretted the night away worrying about getting attacked in the shadows. He paced and muttered to himself in – what Harry assumed – his native tongue, face taunt and hands clasped behind his back.

While his intentions were for good reasons, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly irritated with the protective behaviour. It reminded him faintly of Mrs. Weasley, with the similar "motherly" attitude. Even then, never before had Harry met someone so worked up and paranoid.

Not in this way, at least.

The bus ride was uneventful, aside from Yao falling off the seat during a turn at an intersection. The duo got off at the second last stop, arriving into the heart of town. Stepping onto the sun-warmed pavement, Harry glanced around at the many shops and small businesses. He remembered the last time he had been here; the day he found Yao wandering about as – what he had assumed at the moment – a stray. A sudden thought occurred to him; where in the world was he going?

The idea had never crossed him until now; he had forgotten to ask Yao about where to look. Granted, the man probably didn't need to be questioned, but it would have been helpful to have some knowledge of direction.

Yao glanced at him, the look upon his face similar to one raising an eyebrow in question. He noted the blank look on the boy's face, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Trotting ahead, he flicked his tail in a fashion symbolizing, "Come, before a bus runs you over".

Harry nodded quickly, striding after the canine, trying to ignore the amount of people taking up the sidewalk. Even though it was only an hour past noon, he still felt rather nervous with the whole idea; almost like his days of kindergarden, when Dudley got him in trouble for spilling paint all over the building blocks (though it had been his cousin who had started everything – Harry was trying to catch the container before it hit another girl square in the face). The memory of standing in the corner, the rest of the class giggling at him, stirred up unwanted nostalgia.

He swallowed, trying to quell his racing heart; he felt like he was being watched like a hawk, though the boy knew no one was looking at him at all. To the citizens of town, he was just some kid out walking his dog. Glancing at Yao, he had to admit his surprise at the little regard the animal got despite the odd ponytail. Then again, people probably assumed he was simply someone who dressed his pet up like a poodle.

The Wolfdog darted through the crowd, determination written on his face. Eyes scanned the area cautiously, searching for any signs of threats. Though he could find none, he would never let his guard down – not here, especially since…

He pushed the thought way, setting his mind back on track. There would be no good in worry about that now, other matter were at hand.

Harry jogged after the animal in haste, curiosity wracking his brain. He wondered where the dog was taking him, or how much farther they had to go. Yao had mentioned something about wishing to leave before nightfall. Why though, he had not explained.

They continued down the street for another fifteen minutes, the hot sun beating down on their backs. Harry wiped the sweat from his brow, wishing he had bought a water bottle from the vender a few blocks back. Yet Yao seemed hell bent on getting to the alleyways, never once stopping to take a rest. Harry almost lost the dog three times in the crowds of people, only spotting him in the nick of time.

Finally, after what seemed to take hours, Yao halted in his tracks. Harry panted, running up beside him in confusion. Had they reached the spot?

Yet looking at his companion, he knew that was not the case. The canine had his head turned to the left, body tense and still, ears perked and tail erect. His eyes narrowed, staring hard into the darkness of the alleyways. Something was up, the boy could tell that much – he could feel his skin crawl at the anticipation.

But looking in the same direction, he did not find anything intriguing within line of sight – just a back alleyway littered with garbage and a dumpster. It was hard to believe that any thing of value could be found in here, but by know the boy had learned to expect the impossible.

Yao continued to stare at the alley like it was infested with unpleasantly, fur bristling in agitation. Harry wondered, for a moment, if he could see something the boy could not - it was in this thought he wished he had brought his wand with him. Despite being underaged, it was still reassuring to have some means of magic to protect himself.

Yet the next moment, the dog relaxed and silenced, though keeping his guard up cautiously. Nudging Harry's hand, he beckoned the boy to follow in his wake, traversing into the darkness of the alleyway. Harry soon realized that light faded away the moment he passed through the brick walls; in a matter of second darkness swallowed him and he was forced to feel his way along.

Yao barked a few feet up ahead, the animal's silhouetted form coming into view as his eyes adjusted. Kneeling beside the canine, he watched him paw vigorously at the ground, scrapping the dirt away from a wooden plank burrowed into the Earth. Harry reached over, grasping it with both hands and pulling hard. The wood groaned and creaked, sweat starting to bead on the boy's forehead. Finally, with a yelp, he managed to rip the plank from the ground, sending himself tumbling back onto his rear.

Dazed, he watched stars dance before his eyes while Yao snorted humorously.

Throwing a glare the dog's way, he set the wood aside and brushed himself off. Approaching the dog, he stared down into a small hole dug into the ground, the outline of some objects resting inside. Yao pawed at them impatiently, an almost sharp tone in his growling.

"Alright, I know!" Harry threw up his hands in defence.

Reaching down, his hand collided with something soft and silky. He felt it curiously, threading his finger tips through the mysterious material. Grasping it carefully, he pulled out something similar to a cloak or robe. It was too dark to determine the colour, but he guessed from the feel that is was made of some sort of silk or linen. Pulling the remaining cloth from the pit, he hastily placed them in the old backpack he'd brought with him.

A cold chill ran down his spine; he could hear Yao growl softly beside him, an eerie silence befalling the dark alley. Swallowing thickly, cold sweat dampening his skin, he slowly turned to meet the face of what seemed to be a log with unusually sharp teeth. He froze, eyes widening at the sight of the strange creature.

It panted hungrily, drooling from its long jaws as it gaze at him through sunken yellow eyes. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed it was a strange hybrid of a dog and a crocodile. Before he could think, the rapid thing lunged at him, knocking him on his back. He gasped, hands flailing and batting away the fearsome jaws snapping at his throat. He grabbed the beast's snout, struggling to keep it from biting his face off.

Suddenly the weight on his chest lifted, air flowing back into his lungs with a painful sting. Gasping and coughing, he rolled onto his side to see Yao ramming the beast in the side. The creature flew back, slamming into the alley wall with a sickening crunch.

Yet it rose up to its feet, shaking its head and giving the dog an angry snarl. Slowly, the two began to circle each other, growling and snapping teeth in a threatening manner. Through the darkness, the glow of haunting yellow and gold was unnerving to Harry. He attempted to get up, but his chest gave a painful throb, and he was forced to fall back in pain - all the while watching the fight helplessly.

The creature was the first to attack, latching onto Yao and sinking its teeth into his shoulder. The dog snarled in anger, suddenly rolling over on his side and ramming into the dirt. The impact left the beast stunned, letting go of its grip on the dog. Yao leapt up, grasping the creature at the back of the neck(?), and heaving it over his head.

It flew into the dumpster, crashing with a thud at the bottom. Growling, Yao eyed the garbage cautiously, in case the beast attempted to escape and attack again. However, not a sound was heard, and the dog back away carefully from the trash. Coming to Harry's side, he nudged the boy's hand, pulling him from his trance. Harry stared in amazement at the canine, mouth open but words failing him.

Helping the boy to his feet, Yao gave Harry a nervous glance, silently voicing his concern over his condition. Harry only groaned in response, feeling the bruises of his ribs beginning to throb. Turning, the pair slowly descended the alleyway, leaving the darkness and the creature behind them.

A/N: So, another chapter done, the third will be up ASAP.

Can anyone guess what the creature was? Kudos to you if you can, but you may need a knowledge of the Goblet of Fire game or have read "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" (Yes, it actually exists as a published book, I have a copy). :3