Summary: Long ago, a war began between two demon clans. From this war came tears, blood, and a child. Now the remnants of one of those clans have joined forces with the most dangerous wizard alive, Lord Voldemort. Harry must fight his way through a maze of fear, hate but most importantly love. Can he be true to himself before it's too late? Or will he succumb to the mind-numbing darkness? Only one way to find out...

Disclaimer: If I owned HP would I be writing this crap? Lucien and the Portillo-Martinez family are mine; ALL MINE! MWAHAHA!... Okay, I'm done now...

Warnings: This story contains yaoi. Meaning there's some hot M/M action in here somewhere...eventually. (I promise!) If you have a problem with this...I do NOT care! My suggestion to those who do is this: Go take your homophobic ass to the nearest bar, drink yourself silly, and then promptly jump into your crappy ass car and drive off a bridge. Do the world a big favor. You have been warned...

Criticisms are welcome, flames are not!

And no, I did not pick out the name of this fic after I heard the title of the 6th book.

This means someone is speaking Spanish or thinking to themselves

Chapter 5: Adios

“Come on,” Angie said standing to join her brother, hands on hips. “You heard the man. Annita, get his suitcase, I think it's in the attic, Carlos, you can go help her. Catalina, Alejandro, stay and help us. The rest of you go to your rooms and stay out of our way.” She walked to the door and held it open, obviously expecting everyone to listen to her.

They were all taken aback by Angel's calm exterior when facing the chance of not being able seeing his brother for months on end. Even more surprising was that Angie actually backed Angel up! They all thought she would yell and scream and go try to burn this new school down... She has anger issues. But all she did was give out orders like this was the most normal thing in the world.

When it was obvious nobody was moving, Lucien tried to reassure them. “Go on, you guys. Maybe you can scrounge up a going away present for me.”

“That won't be necessary just yet, little ones.” Abuela had suddenly appeared at the door, making everyone jump. Angela would have fallen on her butt if she'd had room to. “Your parents and I have convinced Senor Hagrid to stay the night so we can give Lucien a proper farewell party.”

There was a moment of silence followed by ear-blowing cheers. The entire house filled with delighted screams.

Once those had subsided, and she had taken her fingers out of her ears, Abuela ordered them out of the room and set them each to tasks... Much like Angie had done only moments before. Before Lucien started down the stairs he quickly changed into a superman t-shirt and tight jeans. He had a feeling that it would be a long party and he didn't want to look too silly. As he was walking down the stairs,he caught a glimpse of Abuela whisper something discreetly into both of the twins' ears, before they ran out the front door, looking giddy.

The rest were given pretty clear instructions. Alejandro and Alberto were in charge of clearing the backyard patio. Catalina, Eduardo, and Annita were in charge of setting everything up. Such as the table, chairs, streamers and the large, Mexican flag they usually hung when they really celebrated. Marco and Pedro were in charge of finding the decorations. And Carlos and Rosa were in charge of blowing balloons with the family air blower. Rosa always got a kick out of making funny voices with helium. Marco had been grounded for a week after he showed her how. Abuela, Mamasita, and Papi oversaw everything. Poor Hagrid stood there completely confused until Abuela told him to help set up the streamers and flag to the patio roof since he was tall enough. And Lucien, of course was sent into the kitchen to finish up the dinner and make some more chili some enchiladas, burritos, and salad. Not that he was complaining.

The ending result of all of their efforts was astounding. Their backyard had been turned into one gigantic rainbow. Color was everywhere! Loud thrumming Latino music was coming from the large boombox. Food fit for a palace feast adorned the long, rather old looking table.

Once everything was ready, the party began. Lucien always loved family parties. There was music and dancing and lots and lots of food. The best part was when he got to see his parents do the tango. Apparently where they were from, they had been the reigning dance competition champions. A fact that was apparent when they got on the dance floor. The “floor” being the raised wooden platform adjacent to the actual patio. They had finally set down for dinner. After a few seconds Lucien turned towards Hargid, who was sitting right beside him. The large man was staring at the two in awe.

Smirking Lucien said, “What's the matter, never seen dancing before?”

“Not like that I 'aven't,” He replied still staring.

“Oh yeah, they're good,” said Catalina on his other side, as she showed one of her more evil grins, “But just wait until the twins hit the floor.” She promptly got back to her enchilada.

Lucien wasn't looking at his food or his parents, he was still inspecting Hagrid.

“What's it like?” He said it so suddenly even he didn't notice he had spoken after a moment.

“What's what,” Hagrid asked, turning away from the man and wife, who were now tapping to their own rhythm. They reminded him of cobras circling each other.

“Your world; What's it like?”

Eduardo paid immediate attention to the conversation.

“Yeh mean our world, righ'?”

Lucien looked down at his plate and shuffled the food around with his fork. He hadn't looked at it that way. “Well, yeah.” A terrible thought struck him, and he suddenly paled. “ I don't have to ride any brooms or anything, do I?”

He gulped and tried not to look too nervous. He always held a terrible fear of heights. Catalina said it is called “acrophobic.” Lucien didn't care what it was called; all he knew was that it sucked. Angela, along with everyone else besides Mamasita and Abuela, used to tease him about it mercilessly. One time, Marco climbed to the upmost branch on the tallest tree in the orchard and pretended to have a sprained ankle. Lucien was forced to try and “save” him. Once he reached Marco, the boy immediately jumped down and laughed as Lucien clung to the branch like a frightened kitten. After a few minutes, he realized his brother was not playing around. Lucien freaked out so bad, he fell from the tree and broke his foot. Marco wasn't allowed dessert for a month. Since then, the others eased up on the teasing. At least so badly.

Hagrid looked at him confused. “Well, ya haft'a learn at firs', Lucien.” At the boy's horrified face, Hagrid hurriedly said, “But there're some students who only took the firs' class and that's it. I know some who couldn't ride a broom to save their lives.”

Lucien let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and gave a weak laugh. “Good. As long as you keep those things away from me, it's all good.”

Harry absently rubbed the handle to his Firebolt as he stared down at the people milling about below his bedroom window. They all look so happy. A smirk reared from cracked lips. I'm almost jealous.

It had been several days since he woke up in the presence of his teachers. His smirk turned into a glower as he remembered what they had told him. Not about the nurse but about... Vernon. It turns out there had been a buyout of his company and the other share holders had decided he was an “unnecessary risk.” They gave him the choice of either retiring or being fired. He had raised such a ruckus -punching one of them so hard he fell over backwards in his chair- that they were forced to call security. Needless to say he didn't have time to clear out his desk before the group of old bones had announced a lawsuit on the BBC. He had come home to find Harry in the kitchen and had apparently snapped.

"Hallo, Harry," a timid voice proclaimed behind him. He didn't bother turning around. He knew who it was.

Without looking he leaned the broom against the wall and crossed his arms petulantly. "Go away, Hermione. I don't want to hear anymore simperings this evening.”

"Oh, that does it!"

He hadn't expected THAT. He finally turned to find an irate, bushy-haired young witch, hands on hips.

"What?"

"You heard me. I've had enough of your- your- MOPING!” She yelled the last word so loud Harry was afraid the sheer force of it would knock him out the window.

Once he had gotten his composure back his face hardened. “There's only so much pity a man can take, Hermione.” He crossed his arms again.

“And you're making it SO much better by locking yourself in your room for days on end.” The sarcasm oozed from her every word.

“I don't need to be around anyone!”

“Tough!”

“Don't you have babysitting to prepare for?”

She rolled her eyes towards the heavens asking a silent plea for strength, before glaring back at him. “I'm not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me.”

“Can't you understand I just want to be left alone?” Harry had the sudden irrational feeling of wanting to hit her. And he almost did, raising his hand, when at the last second he sent the flowerpot by the window flying across the room. He turned to face out the window again, and wrapped his fingers around the window sill so hard his knuckles turned white.

Hermione just stood there, giving the back of his head a cool look. After a few minutes of Harry's hard breathing and the slow, monotonous clicking of the wall clock, she replied in an eerily calm voice, “When we want to be alone, that's usually when we need someone the most.”

He couldn't handle that. He crumpled to his knees and let out a loud, long sob. He strangled out a weak, “Oh, God.” He couldn't breath. His chest started to hurt. One of his hands was holding on the sill, while his other wrapped firmly around his body. "Oh God." He started to shake. Hermione walked towards him and wrapped her arms around him. He slumped fully to the floor almost sitting in her lap. She just held his head to her chest as he pulled her close. He was starting to shake slightly with each sob.

They stayed like that for who knows how long. Once Harry trusted his voice enough, he whispered miserable, "What's wrong with me, Hermione?"

"Nothing, mate." Harry felt a third hand on his back.

Hermione was stroking his wild hair. How long had that been happening? "Ron's right, Harry. Everyone deserves a cry every now and then. You most of all."

That was when he noticed there was something slick on his cheek. He pulled back slightly to realize he had gotten her tank wet... her very low-cut tank... to which his face was very close to. He leaned off her to sit on his knees, mumbling a quiet "sorry." His two best friends just gave each other a sad look. "Stop that," Ron said, reminding Harry so much of Mrs. Weasely that he had to smile. His moment of craziness had passed. He felt infinitely better.

Harry used the moment of quiet to actually look at them. Hermione's hair seemed even MORE curly than usual. She had filled out to fit the still slightly damp pink tank top and faded jeans with a pink border at the hem. Harry had to admit she looked good in that color. Ron while still being lanky was actually getting quite muscular through his green sleeveless. He had a lot less freckles and his hair was just a little longer, making his green eyes more pronounced. He almost looked beautiful.

Beautiful! What the fuck?

"Are you going to be alright now, luv?" Hermione asked, seeing his face contort.

He pushed back his thoughts and put on a shaky smile. "I really feel better, guys. I needed that." Ron beamed but Hermione only gave Harry a strange look. He looked down at his hands. "I'm just tired. You both have things to do. I'll be fine I promise." He finished at their hesitation.

"Well we DO have to prepare for that new student tomorrow." Hermione said, letting Ron help her to her feet. They didn't notice that Harry had to grab the sill again just to stand straight.

Ron had been about to say something to Harry when he did a double take.

"Wait what do you mean we?"

"You're helping me, of course," she said absently while giving Harry a hug goodbye and a peck on the cheek.

"Since when?"

"Since you promised me a week ago that you would.” She started in the general direction of the door.

Ron looked extremely flustered though following her nonetheless. “But-”

Hermione suddenly turned as if remembering something important. “Oh Harry do you think you're up to going outside tomorrow? I would love for you to meet this new student,”

Harry gave her a sad smile. “We'll see Hermione.”

She nodded as she grabbed Ron's arm and started heading for the door again before he could protest. “Wait,” said Ron petulantly. “This student isn't a bloke is he?”

She just rolled her eyes and continued dragging the loud red-head out of the room. When the door closed Harry's smile vanished and he sagged against the window again and let out a long, deep sigh. He DID feel better. He could see things clearly again. Hermione always did that to him. His head was pounding, though, and he had the sudden need for a shower. Along with his his new found consciousness he was painfully aware of the fact that he hadn't taken one for the last two days.

Pushing himself off of the sill he trudged into the adjacent bathroom. He undressed and put on the shower. Scalding hot. He turned towards the mirror and grabbed the toothbrush. He would be going to bed after his shower anyway. Might as well get that over with now. As he dutifully cleansed his canines he gave himself the once over. His hair was messier than normal. He looked... old. Not as old as his aches were making him to believe though. Which was probably a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you thought of it.

His hair stuck out at all ends. That wasn't anything new, but it made him more irritated. He scrubbed furiously. His skin had taken on a pale glaze. An almost white pallor, making his eyes stand out even more. His eyes. Those were what worried him deep down. It wasn't the color, he was used to that. They just looked... empty.

When the mirror started fogging up, Harry spit and stepped into the warm embrace of the burning droplets. Hoping it could wash everything away.

After about an hour he sighed and turned it off. He toweled dry and walked back into the room. Once he had pulled on a pair of pajama pants, he turned and inspected the place. He had been there several weeks and he hadn't decorated it that much. The only thing different from when he arrived was Hedwig's case and an assortment of books. The cage needed to be cleaned. The owl herself was out catching dinner so that would have been the perfect time for it. Harry didn't give a damn. He was exhausted. Thus, he had barely made it to his pillow before he passed out.

Nothing was touching him. No clothes, no air, no light, no warmth. It was so very cold. He didn't like it. There was supposed to be embers. There was supposed to be Light. But there wasn't. There was only the cold. Suddenly he felt a spark there in the nothingness. A presence that he shouldn't, couldn't ignore. He tried to open his eyes but there were no eyes to open. He reached for that glow but there were no hands to move. Then the light was there it was blinding, for a moment that was all he was ... The Light.

"It's seven o-frickin'-clock! Wake your lazy ass, up!"

And so Lucien awoke. Without opening his eyes he growled something unintelligent and turned over. Someone had turned on the lights and he was too damn tired.

"Lucien," Marco continued much pleasingly. "If you don't get up right now, I'm gonna ask Angie to come wake you."

A mass of hair followed by horrified stark blue eyes shot from under the multicolored comforter. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me," he replied mischievously. That's when Marco gave him a closer look. "You okay bro? You look kinda freaked."

By freaked he meant Lucien's eyes. They only ever turned that color when he was scared, which wasn't often. He shook his head and stepped out of the covers. "Yeah I'm fine. Just had a freaky dream is all."

"What about?"

"Don't remember. Now move it so I can get ready."

Marco looked unconvinced but nodded and headed towards the door anyway. Before he walked out he turned and said, "Ok, but hurry the hell up. Hagrid's been waiting for the last hour and I think Rosa's starting to scare him."

As his brother left a smirk crossed his face. She has that effect on people, he thought, then immediately sobered. He had almost forgotten about the other afternoon. It all seemed so surreal now. The book, the letters everything. The letter! The book! He had forgotten all about them too! Probably because he partied so hard he had barely made it to bed the night before.

He wanted to immediately read the book his birth mom had left him but he started notice how... dingy his mouth felt. He decided his morning cleansing rituals were in order first and then on to other more important things. After a much needed mouth wash he took a quick 25 minute shower. (Well it's quick for him and he has a LOT of hair) He towel-dried himself and skillfully brushed and braided his hair. He didn't have time to dry it properly. Smirking at his reflection he did his morning mantra. Another day, another way. He didn't know why he thought it, but it just felt right. After a few minutes of internal relaxation he walked back into the bedroom and grabbed some clothes he had laid out the night before. When he was finished he stood admiring himself in front of his full-length mirror on his bathroom door. He was clad in his favorite outfit. A simple white peasant top with light blue trim. His baggy jeans with the holes at the knees were held up by a blue scarf masquerading as a belt. It was tied in an expert knot at his side so no one could tell its true nature. On his feet were blue fuzzy slippers over bright rainbow socks. Adorning his right wrist was a crotched rainbow armband. Mamasita had made it for him as a joke when he had come out a few years back. It was his favorite accessory. Oh his left wrist was a watch that was entirely blue. What could he say, he liked the color.

With determination he twirled around to face the bed and checked under his pillow. The necklace was right where he had left it the night before. He slid it on and was again comforted by the soft pressure above his heart. He sat down on the bed again, suddenly tired. After a few deep breaths, he prepared himself for the moment to come.

He hadn't opened his mother's book yet. There it sat looking innocent and pristine on the antique bureau adjacent to his bed. He breathed deep again and grabbed the book. He tried to open it but it was sealed shut. What the hell? Then he remembered. He pulled the locket over his head again, careful for his hair, and flicked the latch with his thumb nail.

Inside was a picture of a happy couple. You could tell it was a picture taken at one of those photo booths you see at a mall or carnival or something. The man was tickling someone who couldn't been seen very well. The other person was turned away to escape the torturing hands. He could see the man who was supposedly his father. He just stared. There was no doubt about it, the man looked almost exactly like him! Except he had short dusty blond hair and a brilliant smile. For some reason Lucien thought he wasn't used to smiling, a least not like that. His eyes wrinkled in a funny way. Lucien couldn't see the woman very well though, just a springe of brown hair, an eye, both the exact same color as Lucien's, and a shoulder.

He was stunned. He had never really cared about his birth parents. Once when he was young he asked Mamasita about them but she had said she wasn't able to meet them. The Portillo-Martinez household was the only family he had ever known.

He almost felt guilty about being curious. But he had to know. He needed to know more about the people who gave him up. Yeah, his mother had said in the letter that it had been dangerous times but he still had a drive to understand.

He turned the book over resolutely and saw an imprint there. Two circles side by side one a Jesus fish the other, a cross. Exactly like the outside of the locket. He pressed the the silver treasure to the imprint and, as promised, a latch opened. With trepidation he opened the book the first page.

There he saw the exact same handwriting as on his first letter. It was neat and clean. Clean, a weird word but that was what it looked like to him. There were swirls here and there decorating the paper. A flower had been almost expertly drawn in the corner. He looked at the first calligraphic letter of the page and read.

Fri. June 12, 1975

Dear Diary,

This is my first entry so I'll keep it short and sweet. Today sucked. (Lucien laughed out loud) The teacher is a total dweeb. He gave me homework on the first day! A reading assignment. Easy, yeah, but still it's the principle of the thing. You don't give work on the first day. And not on a Friday either! That, like, goes against everything the world stands for... Then this psycho kept hitting on me.-shiver- I don't get why I attract people like that. OH! OH! And then I get HOME and Da lays into me about being a "good Catholic child in the eyes of god." I'm like "What on earth does that mean?" Of course I didn't actually say that.-Le sigh- I guess I'll just have to grin and bear it. Life goes on and so does my drama... I hate being 15... Well I'm heading to bed. Night!

Sun. June 13, 1975

Dear Diary,

Could Da get any more preachy?... Kinda redundant since he's a Preacher and all, but still! We immediately got home from church when he starts telling me all the things I did wrong during the service. Like how I wasn't “bowing low enough” or I “walked too fast during the processional” or, my constant favorite, I “rang the bell too loud.” I'm getting a migraine. Gonna take some penicillins then finish my homework. Well I haven't started it so I guess I should say starting my homework, shouldn't I?

Mon. June 21, 1975

Dear-

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Lucien nearly fell off the bed. Someone was pounding on the door. He carefully put the book down ran over and yanked it open only to find a grinning Annita staring up at him. “Move it, hermosa. We're STILL waiting!”

“I'll be down in a minute,” he replied smiling. He was just relieved that it wasn't Angela.

After closing the door gingerly he walked over to the bed and closed the book. He had to search for his bags. It took him all of 10 minutes, but eventually, shouting victoriously, he found them huddled behind the bean bag. Wasting all of one second to wonder how they could have possibly made their way there, he yanked his smallest one that held his personal items; shampoo, mouse, brush, loofa, his i-pod things like that. Plus a small rainbow colored photo album with pictures of everyone. The bag was shaped like a bunny. He reached behind the bean bag again and grabbed the second largest that he would use for carrying his books from class to class. On the one side was a witch flying across the moon with the words “Something Wicked” trailing from the broom, on the other was a cat with bright green eyes. They were patches made from an old shirt of Eduardo's. It was a present given the night before. Lucien had always liked the shirt but could never get his brother to part with it.

A grin lit up his face as he saw the odds and ends adorning a looped chain that went across the side of the bag, right above the picture of the cat. The previous night, the twins had disappeared to buy 11 charms that represented each of their brothers and sisters as well as themselves. Abuela had appointed them because they both had a discerning eye for detail. After the party they presented the effigies in all their glory.

Now, Lucien ran his hands over each one of them in turn trying to commit them to memory. The twin's trinkets were attached together on the same loop. A charm of a pillow and a tree hung limply in his hands. He moved on to the next one that represented Alejandro; a shooting star. Lucien grinned but rolled his eyes. That's original. The next one was Catalina's which was of course a small book. It was salvaged from an unused Scooby Doo Clue game. The words “Spells and Potions” was on the tiny silver cover. Pedro's was a tiny set of nun chucks which were hung by the middle to made them dangle. He flipped at them with his fingers for a while until he noticed a small key right beside the tiny trinket. At first he was confused when he realized that it must have been Alberto's. He made a mental note to ask Angel about it later. Eduardo's was a small pouch. Inside was a quartz clear and twisting. A charm of a paint brush was obviously Annita's. Marco's was a smiley face. Carlos's was a horse... WTF. He made another mental note to ask. The last one was right at the very end hanging by a pink safety pin. It was a crown that represented Rosa. Because she was a princess. Inside the larger bag was wrapped cloth that held different things that represented his Abuela and parents. But left that for later. He wanted to check the Bunny Bag again to see if it was fully clean.

He had just picked it up when it suddenly moved. He nearly threw the thing across the room when he heard a loud “MROW!” No, he thought, disbelievingly. Setting it down gently he unzipped the already loosened zipper (When did that happen?) the rest of the way. Inside, he found the family cat, Vene, sitting comfortably on a large rainbow towel. The cat had always been small. He was the runt of the litter, forever looking like a kitten. He had sleek, black fur that made him almost invisible at night if his eyes weren't open. Problem was, he could get anywhere he wanted and damn did those claws hurt. After Lucien had gotten over his confusion, he reached in and lifted the sleepy feline out.

“Vene, you can't come. I don't think there are any pets allowed.” He said it with extreme guilt as Vene's ears drooped farther and his yellow eyes got larger.

“Si, Diablo,” A voice sounded behind making him squeeze poor Vene. Lucien jumped as he was clawed and dropped Vene back into the bag.

“But it did say you needed a familiar. I thought Senor el Gato Venenoso would do nicely.” He turned around to find Abuela standing there. He didn't even notice the door opening! Damn he was getting ditsy. Then he processed what she had said.

“You mean it!? He can come!?” At her nod Lucien pounced her in a fierce hug. He could still take a piece of home with him. Something alive. Something that could respond back to him. A thought crept its way into his head. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her. “Won't Cura and everyone else miss him?”

“She and the rest of us can somehow manage. Come on, get your stuff and let's go downstairs. It's time to say goodbye.”

A sense of foreboding filled him as he padded down the cream colored carpeted stairs. He reached up to his shoulder to pet Vene for consolation. The cat purred reassuringly. In a part of his mind it felt like he was going down step by step to his own personal Hell. He was leaving everything he had ever known his entire life for months on end. He didn't think he could bear not hearing about a brand new book that Catalina found in an out of the way old bookstore, or seeing Annita's face as she stood at a canvas and painted for hours on end, or Pedro practicing a ridiculously complicated muay thai technique in the back yard. With each step he counted each of the people in his family and what exactly about them he would miss. They would all write to him just as he would write at least a letter a day, but it wouldn't be the same thing. At one point he nearly turned around. The only thing that stopped him was Abuela's firm yet comforting grasp on his unoccupied shoulder. His free hand found his way to hers. She was his anchor now as she had been many times before.

When they reached the bottom, he couldn't stop himself from snickering just a little at the display. It looked like an excerpt from Sound of Music. Each of his brothers and sisters were arranged before him in a straight line from oldest to youngest. He walked up to the display and without a word hugged everyone in turn until he got to Rosa. She was a vision of depression. Her hands were behind her back, her foot was scuffing the floor and she refused to look at him. She wore the pink overalls with yellow flower pattern going up the leg and a bunny on the pocket Lucien had gotten her last Easter. It was her favorite. For the first time since Hagrid had shown up Lucien grinned. He lifted her up, careful not to disturb Vene too much, and set her on his hip. She looked at him finally and her eyes were filled with tiny, unshed tears.

He only said one simple sentence. “See you next Christmas, kiddo.” Her entire face lit up with a grin.

Lucien set her down and walked towards the door until his Mamasita's voice sounded in the room. “Where ya going, sweetie?” Giggles resounded the room.

He turned slowly. “Uh... To Hagrid's car...?” He trailed off as he saw the malicious look in his family's eyes.

Poor Hagrid looked confused yet again and gestured towards the large alabaster fireplace. “We're goin' by floo 'course.”

Lucien deadpanned, “By what now?”

A/N OOOOO! Clifhanger-ey! Thank you to all the lovely reviews. I'm glad to see SOMEONE likes my ficcy. Reviews keep it alive! I've finished the next two chapters they're just in beta-mode right now. Will post when they are relinquished.