Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Flash. None of the characters are mine, nor the concepts. I make no moneys, just enjoy messing with the stories for pleasure.

Now, onto business. This is a story idea that I had that jumped into my mind one day while I was binge watching season two of The Flash, and it has refused to leave me alone since. Therefore, I present all my lovely readers with this story. If you are an old reader of mine, welcome back and I hope you enjoy. And if you have only just stumbled across me because you were searching for a good crossover, you can check out some of my other stories.

Just a warning: The story may be a bit confusing at first, but I assure you that by the end you will understand what's going on...hopefully...and if, by then, you do not understand, please message me.

Now without further ado, I give you the first installment of Who is Harrison Wells?

Chapter One:

Sand was everywhere. The sound of waves could be heard, a continuous din that went on without end. Birds cried out overhead. The sun beat down harshly on the beach, sending out waves of exhausted heat. On the beach a couple sat, gazing out at the horizon and talking quietly amongst themselves.

"I know," the man said gravely, levelling a sad gaze at the woman that sat beside him, wearing the ring he gave her. "I know this is horrible news—horrible—but i-it's not the end of the world!" He let out a shaky breath, tears filled both their eyes and he laid his hands on hers, squeezing them as he continued, "We can adopt—we can still have a family."

A tear slipped down the woman's beautiful face.

"I-I don't know," she whispered, too distraught to manage to find her voice. She swallowed, attempting to lessen the lump in her throat. "I just—I don't think I'm ready."

"Then, we'll wait," the man replied.

Silence fell once more and they both turned to gaze out on the calming waters.

It truly was a beautiful day in Starling City. It was a pity, Adam Wells thought. On this day, this day that they found out that he and his wife—Sophia Wells—cannot have a family of their own, it felt as if the world should be mourning. It felt as if the sky itself should be crying its tears on them. Instead, the sun shone. The birds chirped. If anything else, it made his grief feel all the more unreal.

Suddenly, the silence was broken.

There was a strange noise, sounding like air being sucked out of the air all around them, mixed with a very loud CRACK! The couple jumped. Sophia's head turned as her husband leapt to his feet in surprise. There, standing before them, was a child. He was tiny—probably no older than four years of age—and covered head to toe with sand. All around him, sand particles flew. They were suspended in the air as if gravity had forgotten how to pull them to the ground.

The boy wore strange clothes that seemed to swallow him—a black robe that contrasted the pale, sharp face. His dark hair shot straight up in wispy tufts, and the boy had large, round glasses that dominated his face. Peering through them were a pair of bright green eyes that exuded intelligence.

It seemed as if time stopped in the instance that the boy appeared. Adam was frozen in a half-crouch, one hand extended as if to catch him if he fell. Sophia's hands leapt to her mouth and she stared with utter surprise. The boy, already deathly pale, seemed to have forgotten to breathe. He stood and stared, his mouth hanging open, his eyes fogged with a mix of emotions.

Then, time started once more. The boy sucked in an audible gasp of air, his eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and he collapsed to the ground. The sand flying around him fell to the ground at once, splashing harmlessly against the now unconscious boy.

"Oh my God!" Sophie cried, her hands still covering her mouth. Tears that had been spilling moments before still clung to her eyelashes.

"Oh, God! Are you all right?" Adam exclaimed, rushing forward, not expecting a response. He checked the boy's pulse and realized he was breathing very rapidly and shallowly. "Sophie, Sophie call someone!"

Shaky hands pulled a phone out of her coat pocket. She quickly tap, tap, tapped, and then held up her phone to her ear as it began ringing.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Tears spilling over once more, she cried, "A boy just appeared out of nowhere—he's deathly pale." She started forward and crouched next to her husband. Her breath was knocked away as she realized that the sand underneath the tiny child was growing darker with red. "He's bleeding so much! Oh, God—Adam, he's not going to die, is he?"

"Hold on, ma'am!" said a voice in her ear. "We're coming as fast as we can. Where are you?"

"Down at the water front," Sophia whispered, wiping the tears out of her eyes. "Hurry!"

"Don't worry," Adam said softly to the boy. "Someone's coming for you. You're going to be okay." The boy's eyes drifted open. They were tiny slits that only barely revealed his green irises. The boy's dark eyebrows were drawn together. "Stay with us…Stay with us. What's your name?"

"H-h-Har—ry," the boy gasped.

"You're going to be all right, Harry," Adam whispered, a tearful smile filling his face. He smoothed back the boy's hair. A ghost of a smile appeared on the boy's face—and then changed into a grimace of pain.

It felt as though an eternity of time passed by the time the ambulance arrived. People flooded out of it, picking up the boy and laying him on a stretcher. Sophia and Adam followed them inside. Sophia was still holding the boy's cold, limp hand.

…

The Battle of Hogwarts had taken its toll on everyone, but it affected one person the most. Harry Potter had not been the same ever since that day. He distanced himself from his friends—the family he had built for himself. He felt that all of the deaths that occurred that day were his fault—Voldemort had only attacked in order to reach and kill Harry.

Even now that Voldemort was gone, Harry had no idea what to do with his life. Sure, he had always considered becoming an auror in the future, but now that he could—for no one would turn down the Wizarding World's savior in a job such as that—it just seemed pointless. Meaningless.

Harry slipped into a dark depression for months afterwards. He hid inside Grimmauld Place, focusing on how much he had lost. He had no idea how to move forward—how to move on. It was like he was reliving the past seven years of his life over and over again. Each night Harry woke in a cold sweat, a result of never ending nightmares that always ended in Harry losing and Voldemort destroying everything he loved.

Finally, Harry's friends got together to bring back the Harry they knew. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all sat down at a table in Diagon Alley and discussed how he had changed, and how he was surely a danger to himself if something didn't change. It was then they decided that they would go and talk sense into the man.

"Harry, if you don't let us in right now," Hermione cried to the door of Number 13 Grimmauld Place, "so help me I will blast this door down!"

There came no response.

"All right," Hermione muttered, drawing her wand. "Three…two…"

The door swung open to reveal a thin and ruffled looking Harry. He wore a bed robe, which he tightened at the waist and stared at his friends with blank eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

"We need to talk," Ginny said.

It took a great amount of persuasion, but finally Harry let them inside and received the telling off of a lifetime—mostly thanks to Hermione. Finally, Harry decided it was time to reemerge. Harry applied for a job as an auror and was soon granted his request. He began hanging out with his friends at the twins' old joke shop in Diagon Alley, and began going on dates with Ginny. He had finally gotten himself back out there.

"Thanks for meeting me here," Ginny said with a warm smile. "I'm really glad you're no longer hiding away in that place."

"It is certainly much better spending time with you than wasting away in a house haunted by my dreams," Harry replied with a wry smile. "By the way, please tell your brother thanks for letting me move in that flat with him."

"I'm sure he would reply with something along the lines of 'no problem'," Ginny returned. The two of them were sitting at a table outside Florean Fortescue's. The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley passed around them, separated by an iron fence and a sunny sidewalk.

The two of them continued to laugh and talk, but something didn't feel right. Harry tried to shrug it off, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

"Harry, are you all right?" Ginny asked, jerking Harry back to the present. "You seem…distracted."

"What—no, no I'm fine!" Harry exclaimed. "Anyway, how about some of that ice cream?"

Ginny gave him a skeptical look, but came to her feet as well. Harry bowed his head and made a gesture that said, "After you," and began following her towards the door of the ice cream parlor.

"Distracted," Harry laughed. "I'm not distracted! I've completely been paying attention. You said something about your aunt telling you baby stories about the twins?"

They both laughed at the thought of two red-head twins causing mayhem before they even knew what the word meant. Suddenly, Harry came to a halt at the feeling of something poking into his back. His smile quickly fell. Ginny, who had already entered the shop, did not notice he had fallen behind.

"If you want your pretty friend alive, I would keep your mouth shut," said a voice behind him.

"What do you want with me?" Harry asked, slowly reaching for his wand.

"It's nothing personal," the voice said. "I just need something to happen a bit sooner than planned—and I need you out of the way."

Harry prepared to whip around and duel, his wand in hand, but before he could manage to utter a word, a voice to his left called, "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand shot out of his hand, leaving him defenseless. It flew towards a dark, cloaked figure. While he was distracted, the person behind him hit him hard over the head with his own wand and Harry slumped to the floor. Just as the three vanished with a CRACK!, Ginny returned outside.

"Harry?" she called. "Where'd you go?"

…

"Hush, he's waking up."

Harry's eyes felt as if they were made of stone, weighed down by ten pound weights. Slowly, he forced them open and instantly regretted it. Light penetrated his eyes with a force so strong, it was blinding. Figures swam before his eyes until they finally adjusted. Only then could he barely make out the blurry forms of three people.

"How are you?" came a woman's voice.

Harry squinted, peering at the blurry forms.

"Here, bud," came a man's voice. The man handed Harry his glasses. He put them on to reveal a man, a woman, and a doctor. The man had brown hair, square glasses, and wore a brown trench coat. The woman had long black hair and wore a thick black coat.

"May I ask," the man said, "how you came to be on that beach?"

Harry faltered.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"What about your family?" the woman asked. "Where are they?"

"I don't know," Harry repeated.

"Can you tell us their names?" the man questioned.

The little boy silently shook his head. The three adults exchanged glances. Slowly, they turned and left the room.

"We'll run some tests," the doctor said. "And send any information we have to the police. Perhaps they can find the boy's parents. Until then Social Security will likely take him."

…

Weeks passed and the boy's parents were never found. It turned out he suffered from amnesia. The only thing he could tell them was that his name was Harry—no last name, no parent's names, not even where he came from. The couple that found him formed an odd bond with him, and as everyone in Starling City realized no one would ever come for the boy they adopted him.

The mysterious boy named Harry became Harrison Wells, raised by the young couple that had lost hope that they would ever have a family. And yet, they were happy—just the three of them. Everything was perfect.

Now I will tell you that the first few chapters are about this length (five to seven pages in a word document), but after that they get pretty long. Please review and tell me what you think! This is only the third official story I've written, so I'm still working on my writing style. Hope you enjoyed it!

~LittleMissMycroft