The Art of Peace

Author's Note: Should I put some Sifu POV in? I'm not really sure - this is my first fic so I'm afraid to make him into a cliché. Oh, and just for the record I would like to point out that, no, Harry is not an heir, all-powerful wizard, etc. The way I figure it, because he was raised Muggle and with a rather unique relationship with the wizarding world he has fewer of the preconceptions that most wizards, pureblood or not, have. So really he has the same ability as anyone else, he is just using it in a different way with more utilization of his full potential. Does that make any sense at all? I am also looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested. My e-mail is [email protected].

Chapter 5

Sacrifices and Rewards

Severus Snape made for a foreboding figure as he walked through the train terminal at the end of the Chunnel (A/N: tunnel under the English Channel connecting England and France). He had found no trace of Potter since the Gringott's withdrawal and he was growing frustrated. The way he saw it, if the boy had even a modicum of sense he would have left the British Isles altogether once he left the wizarding portion of them. The exchange of the Gringott's gold into Muggle currency seemed to bolster this idea, but Snape had yet to find any other hints of where he could be. Potter was proving to be quite elusive for a lowly Gryffindor. Until some clues were discovered, all Severus could do was get in touch with some of his old contacts from his less savory days and see if any sightings of the boy had occurred. The scar was something that most people would remember after all. He had been in Coquelles (the French end of the Chunnel) for almost three days when one of his spies learned of an abortive mugging attempt in nearby Calais that had left six members of a youth gang hospitalized and seemingly delirious, muttering about a scarred boy and a man who flew. It did not take a genius to realize that the scarred boy was none other than the lost sheep Harry Potter, but who was the man who was flying? Surely even Potter was intelligent enough to stay away from wizards so close to England. Whatever had happened, this was the first solid lead since the bank and he had to follow it. By the time he had gathered his things and arrived via bus in Calais, the two had been traced to a train bound for Marseilles that had left the day after the mugging. Without further ado, Snape was on a train following them, cursing Dumbledore and his idealistic notions about such an irresponsible boy -- even though that boy just happened to be Lily's son.

Marseilles:

Harry was in the best shape of his life. The early morning running was building his endurance, and Sifu had given him exercises that worked the one or two muscles that his job in the port did not. Sifu's cooking was starting to fill his skinny frame, and he could push and pull with some of the stronger dock workers now, even if his body hurt a whole lot more than theirs at the end of the day as a result. His wandless training was coming along as well. He could transfigure smaller object with ease, and the other day when Sifu had unexpectedly thrown the newspaper at him he had brought up a shield charm out of reflex, which was shocking considering he did not know how he had done it other than merely thinking it. This incident only strengthened his opinion that the wand was a crutch that wizards relied on with far too great a frequency. He was also learning more and more about himself. When the Sorting Hat had told him he could be great in Slytherin house, he had not believed it. Now, however, he was forced to reconsider the Hat's opinion. The neighborhood they were in was a decent one, but the port was a violent place. It took all his wits to stay out of the always occurring fights and brawls. He was learning to manipulate people, and this frightened him. It seemed the sort of thing that Malfoy or his father would do, not what a Gryffindor would resort to. On the other hand, he had yet to get in a fight, so perhaps there was something to the whole manipulation business after all. Maybe the ends did not justify the means, but Harry's definition of allowable means had certainly broadened recently. Sifu was a good example. Although there were still things about his past that Harry did not know, Sifu was surprisingly open on most subjects, and his opinions led Harry to believe he was a highly moral person. Just the other day, though, a crewman on one of the ships had walked into Sifu and proceeded to try to pick a fight with him. Sifu, instead of taking the invitation to brawl, had instead moved with lightning speed, disarming the man of his knife and laying him on the ground before simply walking away. Neither man had been hurt, nor had Sifu had to use a gross amount of violence, but his actions had shown the man that he could if he had to. It was a good example of the necessary uses of force, and Harry had to admit that in this case the end result did justify Sifu's action.

It was with these new lessons on his mind that Harry started his morning run that bright Thursday morning. These runs had become a time when Harry could ponder things that bothered him, his mind working with the rhythm of his steps. This run was different though. It was only on the second turn when Harry came across the little boy, not more than ten or eleven years old, running as if his life depended on it. Behind were two large men, both with knives that looked like they had already been bloodied once that morning. Without even thinking about it, Harry swept the boy into his arms, sprinting with him for the next two blocks back towards his house. He then set the shaking boy down and turned around. The men were still chasing him and one of them looked to be pulling a gun out of his pocket. Harry turned again to the boy.

"Hurry! Run to the third floor and knock on the door. Tell the man to let you hide there and to come down quickly!"

The boy looked fearfully up at Harry and then turned and ran up the stairs. Harry sighed in relief. He was lucky the boy had not just run from him as well. The pounding of the two men had slowed and they were now shouting for him to let them at the boy. Snarling, Harry readied himself to fight them. Both men were carrying the long bladed knife usually found in the dock areas, and they carried them with the ease of those who were comfortable with their weapon. The second man had now pulled the gun out of his pocket and it was trained at Harry, although he did not look like he wanted to use it, probably due to the noise it would make rather than the thought of killing someone. The man's nervousness seemed to grow less as he realized Harry would not give them the boy. His finger tightened convulsively on the trigger, and the gun went off.

It was as if time had suddenly slowed for Harry. The bullet was slowly exiting the gun, a white light coming before it. Reflexively, Harry put his hands in front if him, his only thought on stopping the bullet. Just like what had happened with the newspaper, a soft yellow glow seemed to materialize in front of his hands. The bullet, now only a few feet away, struck the shield and deflected, missing Harry completely. As the bullet sped away, time seemed to return to normal, although his heart was pumping at an extraordinary rate. The thug's eyes widened when he realized he had missed, and Harry used this shock time for his own attack.

"Expelliarmus!" was Harry's cry as he pointed his hand at the gun.

The weapon flew from the man's hands, striking a wall twenty feet behind him before skittering to a stop on the sidewalk. Both men were now in a state of overwhelming surprise, but they quickly came after Harry with their knives.

A "Stupefy!" dropped the man who had lost his gun, and a quick sidestep took Harry out of the reach of the other man's swinging knife. Before he could do anything about him though, Sifu barreled out of the stairway, throwing the man to the ground. As the thug started to groggily rise to his feet, Sifu snap kicked his knee, sending him to the ground again with an audible popping sound. Another kick to the jaw knocked him unconscious before his screams could wake the neighborhood, leaving Harry and Sifu standing over the two vermin.

They each threw one of the men over their shoulder and made their way to the police station a few blocks away. The police surrounded them as they entered the door, demanding to know what was happening. Once everyone was calmed down, the police took their statements. It took a while, but they were finally convinced that Harry and Sifu were telling the truth and allowed them to leave. It wasn't until they reached the apartment building that they remembered the boy. Without a word they quickly rushed upstairs, only to find the boy sitting at the table crying softly to himself.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry. "Don't worry, you're safe now."

"M-M-My mother," the boy sobbed. "They killed my mother." He now looked up at the two adults with stricken eyes. "She won't be back, will she?"

"If they killed her, then no she will not be back," Sifu told him quietly. "You don't know if she is dead for sure, though, maybe she will be all right."

"No! I saw it all! They took her and - and they hit her with a stick and shot her too."

"I'm so sorry, my boy. You can stay here until you find a place to go, if you like."

The boy gave no answer, merely curling into a little ball in his chair. Tenderly, Sifu gathered him in his arms and carried him into the next room. His soft voice could be heard soothing the boy's fears. A few minutes later, a shaken Sifu came back into the kitchen.

"The child will be alright," he assured Harry. He is sleeping now; it would probably be best if we do not disturb him for the time being. I am going back to the station. Hopefully they will have some news on the boy's mother and any other relatives he might have. I'll stop at the docks as well and explain to them."

"That sounds good. What do you want me to do if he wakes up?"

"Be there for him. That is all anyone can do right now," Sifu said sadly, walking out the door.

Harry made himself a much delayed breakfast and settled in for a long day. For the next few hours he studied his books, practicing some charms and transfigurations. It was around two in the afternoon when he finally heard a noise from the other room. Silently walking in, he saw the boy restlessly tossing around under the covers, crying silently. Harry sat down next to him. He had never been in a position like this before. Growing up with the Dursley's he had little contact with smaller children, and at Hogwarts he had never taken the time to get to know them, especially with the Creevey brothers running around. All he could think of doing was holding the boy as he wept, a silent bastion against his fears and nightmares. Finally the child drifted back to sleep, curled in Harry's arms. It was a warming feeling, and Harry actually felt like he was wanted, not for being a hero or an athlete, but for just being human.

A couple hours later, Sifu walked in, smiling to himself at the sight of Harry and the boy sleeping together. He quietly put his hand on Harry's shoulder, startling him into wakefulness.

"Come out into the kitchen, will you?"

Once in the other room, they sat at the table. Sifu began by telling Harry what he had learned.

"The boy's name is Claude David. His mother was killed this morning by the same two men we brought in. They were trying to rob her house while her husband was at sea and she tried to resist after they threatened Claude. They killed her and went after Francis when he tried to run away. That is when he ran into you. Apparently his father isn't due for another two weeks and all his relatives are in Reims and won't be able to come down for a week at the earliest."

"So what will happen to Claude?"

"I know the constable and told him that we would take care of him for now. Is that all right with you?"

"Yeah, it's just that one of us will have to stay home now to be with him. Won't that leave us a little short of money?"

"No it shouldn't really. We've been living pretty well lately and still saving money so we should be all right. School will be starting soon anyways and you should probably go - you aren't getting out of it that easily," Sifu told Harry with a grin.

"Why are you doing all of this for me? I mean we barely knew each other and you took me in and now you're going to do even more. I don't understand."

"Well, look at it this way. If I was you I would want someone to do the same, and when I was in that same position, someone did. I'm just repaying an old debt."

"I still don't understand, but thank you just the same."

With that they remained silent for a while. Finally Sifu turned to Harry again.

"You handled yourself well out there today."

"I could say the same for you."

"Yes, but you haven't been fighting for as long as I have. Watching you out there today made me come to a decision. You were faced with your own death as well as Claude's and could have killed both men easily yet you restrained yourself. You proved yourself worthy to learn the martial arts. I'm not saying that you have to, it will still be your decision."

Harry's eyes lit up at the thought of being able to do the things Sifu had.

"I'd like that a lot. I won't disappoint you."

Sifu's ever present smile became somewhat intimidating.

"You are absolutely right, you will not disappoint me. I won't let you."