An idea I had thought off on my bed and just had to write it out.
Slight AU
Some characters may be OOC
. . .
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, nor does RWBY. This does, and so I am free to do as I so please to it – (inherent evil laughter). Take that JK. Rowling and Monti Oum
This story is rated 16, viewers' discretion is advised. (SNLV)
A Different World?
Prologue - The Decision
"Try to eat something, Harry. Tomorrow's a big day, the start of a new session, after all."
Hermione, brunette, pretty and bossy, gestured toward Harry's barely touched plate and smiled encouragingly at him. Harry made an attempt to return the smile, but it was a dismal failure. He picked at the plate before him, piled high with his favorite foods. Tonight, his stomach knotted tight with tension and anticipation, he could hardly bring himself to swallow a bite.
Tomorrow would be a big day, he knew. He knew it all too well, in fact. Tomorrow would be the biggest day in his life; because tomorrow was the day he will decide whether to go through with a plan that will make Godric Gryffindor happy and the other founders marvel at his stupidity.
"Nerves, I imagine," said Ron, setting down his fork and seizing up a good majority of the food on his plate and shoving it down his throat in a manner befitting that of a barbarian. He was a thin, gangly and lazy boy, fascinated with the game of chess with a penchant for waiting on Hermione so he could copy her work whenever an assignment is given. "Though I am not sure why, mate? We have been through this for how many years now?... Five?...Six?"
"Five," he answered absentmindedly. "And I am not… " he couldn't say it, because the sad truth was that he was. He was nervous. Why won't he be? Tomorrow. . . From tomorrow, he would be declared missing.
. . .
It was long after midnight. The torches around the castle had begun to burn low. Harry had watched patiently for hours, waiting for this moment – when the light was uncertain and the prefects were yawning, in the last hour of their shift.
The day had shaped up to be one of the worst he could remember. While his year mates celebrated, enjoying their feast and then basking in their shared comradery, the threat of Voldemort meaningless to all but a selected few, Harry had slipped away to the silence of the forest, a kilometer or so away from the castle grounds. There, in the dim green coolness beneath the trees, he had spent the remainder of the night reflecting bitterly on the events of the last semester and future ones to come, nursing the deep pain of anger at the death of his godfather and wondering whether the choice he will make is the right one.
As the night cooled further and the shadows began to creepily advance in the open fields beside the forest, he came to a decision.
He had to leave Hogwarts. And he had to do it tonight.
Taking a deep breathe, he made his way back to the castle, avoiding the zealous prefects who had taken it upon themselves to re-check the vast corridors and passageways the school building contained, and secreted himself in a nook between the wall and a large bronze armor. He quickly picked up a small bundle containing his belongings that he had stashed there earlier and made his way towards the Hall. On the way, he slipped unnoticed into the kitchen and helped himself to bread, cheese and apples courtesy of the Hogwarts elves. He munched moodily on these, barely tasting them as he leaned on a wall.
From his position, he observed the movements of the occupants within the pictures, getting a feeling of their timing in other to best avoid them. In addition to the self-aware portraits, there was one of the zealots, a lone prefect perambulating near the entrance door of the castle. But he was overweight and there was little chance that he would pose a risk to Harry. After all, he had no intention of using the door or the stairways. Once is enough. Not to mention, if he wanted to escape without being seen, he needed to do so through the most unorthodox method he could think off.
Due to his rather unique upbringing at the Dursleys, and his insatiable curiosity, he had developed within him, the skill of moving silently across a space without been seen. Much like the ninjas in those cartoons Dudley loved watching during his younger days. At least when not with Ron and Hermione, his best friends.
But he needed a good enough distraction. With a quickly muttered spell and wave of his wand, he had the fat prefect running in the other direction, chasing an unidentified flying object.
He moved immediately, masking his sounds with the movements of the wind, blending easily within the shadows of the castle, becoming part of it and so being concealed by it. With the fat prefect occupied, his task was made a little easier.
Breathless, Harry flattened himself against the rough stone of the castle walls. The prefect who had returned visibly annoyed, barely five meters away and Harry could hear his heavy breathing, thankful that a small buttress in the wall hid him from the student's sight.
He studied the wall in front of him, craning back to look up. A window, positioned a long way up, and farther around the castle. To reach it, he would have to climb up, then work his way across the face of the wall careful to not be spotted by the pictures, to a spot beyond where the prefect laid beside a wall panting furiously and then up the window. He licked his lips nervously. As luck may have it, the locks of stone that comprises the inner walls of Hogwarts had gaps that while not large, where suitable and sturdy looking enough for him. Climbing would be no problem. He'd have plenty of foot and handholds all the way up. In some places, the stone would have been worn smooth by old age, he knew, and he'd have to go carefully. He may not have much experience in climbing – does climbing fences to escape your fat cousin and his ragtag group of friends to avoid beatings from their hands whenever they played their favorite game, Harry Hunting count? – But he expected no real difficulty with this one.
But if he were caught, he wouldn't be able to explain his way out of any punishment given to him. He would be caught climbing on the wall in the middle of the night for Merlin knows what. After all, what reason would a mere student have for doing that?
He rubbed his hands together nervously.
What could they do to him? Apart from detention, there was no other punishment they could give him if he was caught now save from outright expulsion. And who in their right mind would expel the bloody Boy-Who-Lived? No one, that's who!
But there was a nagging doubt at the back of his mind. He wasn't absolutely sure that the decision he made was right. He could still turn back and fight Voldemort on Dumbledore's terms. But won't that endanger his friends, families … his year mates? On one hand, if he follows up on his decision and leaves, nobody but him would get hurt or worse if he fails. And there was definitely a high chance of failure; he is fighting a megalomaniac with more than fifty years' experience on him.
One life lost, even if it was his, is better than a hundred or thousand even.
On the other hand, if he was caught and stayed back, he would learn from the greatest wizard alive, Dumbledore himself. The only man that Voldemort was said to fear. Who knew the plethora of spells he may learn from him. But then, there was a possibility that maybe the headmaster wouldn't teach him, he did appear worse than usual, especially with his right hand blackened and disfigured like it was during the opening feast, and he will be pawned off to Snape for tutelage. He shuddered visibly at the thought.
He hesitated, needing some slight extra push to get him going. It was the fat prefect that provided it. Harry heard the heavy intake of breath, the shuffling of the boy's shoes against the stones as he gathered his things together preparing to retire for the night, and he realized that the prefect was coming his way fast. With barely a few meters away from the other side of the doorway, he realized once more with a gasp that it would bring them face-to-face within the next few seconds if he didn't do something.
Quickly muttering words of reassurance to himself, he began to climb up the wall. He made the first five meters in a matter of seconds, spread out against the rough stone like a giant four-legged spider. Then, hearing the footsteps directly below him, he froze, clinging to the wall in case some slight noise might alert the prefect.
In fact, it seemed that the fat prefect had heard something. He paused directly below the point where Harry clung, peering into the night where the torches couldn't pierce, the moving shadows cast by the moon that flitted into the castle. But, as Harry had begun to realize, people seldom look up, especially the wizard folk. The prefect, eventually satisfied that he heard nothing significant, continued to stride slowly towards his destination.
That was the chance Harry needed. It also gave him the opportunity to move across the wall so that he was directly below the window he wanted. Hands and feet finding purchase easily, he moved almost as fast as a man could walk, all the time going higher and higher up the castle wall.
There was a heart-stopping moment when, stretching his right foot to a new foothold his left shoe slipped on the weathered-rounded edge of the massive building blocks, and he was left clinging by his hands alone as he scrabbled desperately for a foothold. Then he recovered and kept moving.
He felt a surge of relief as his hands finally closed over the stone window ledge and he heaved himself up and onto the windowsill. He swung his legs over the sill, finding purchase on the stone, using it to slowly and carefully bring himself down. Reaching a reasonable distance to the ground, he leaped and landed lightly.
Finally! He exhaled deeply, the cool air doing wonders to his skin. Now, he could leave without any pro-
A hand shot from nowhere and seized him by the wrist. He was forcefully turned and pushed harshly to the castle wall.
Harry shouted aloud in fright. His heart leaped into his mouth as he found himself looking up into the cold eyes of Snape, the potion master and professor at Hogwarts.
Where had he come from? Harry had been sure as he made his descent that there would be nobody around. He had accounted for everyone... in the castle. Sod! He cursed inwardly; Snape had not been in the castle ever since the feast ended. And due to his robe, the black hideous thing he wears every time, he could melt into the background, blending with the shadows until he was nigh invisible.
Not that it mattered how the surly man had done it. The real problem was that he had caught Harry, outside the school building, after curfew. And that meant the end to his plan.
"Always knew I will catch you trying to attempt something as foolhardy as this," said Snape in a low voice.
Harry, his heart pounding from the shock of the last few moments, said nothing. He hung his head in shame.
"Do you have anything to say?" Snape asked him, and Harry shook his head, unwilling to meet that dark, penetrating gaze. "Well, let's see what the Headmaster thinks of this," he added.
"Please, Professor! No… " Then Harry stopped. There was no convincing the man. He has been caught, so he must stay… No! This was the only way he knew that will lead to less death. He had to do this.
But first, he must escape Snape.
Easier said than done, he thought. Snape is a fully trained wizard with experience that Harry could only hope to match. So magic was out. That instinctively left him with no choice but to fight as a muggle.
The professor's grip was like iron around his wrist as he led Harry towards the entrance door. Whatever he needed to do, he had to do it now.
Harry stopped, effectively halting the other party. Twisting on his heels, he planted his heel on the potion master's stomach. Snape grunted, releasing his hold over Harry as he backpedaled, hands around his mid-section . The move was ill-executed, lacking any real experience or strength, but it managed to free him.
"Potter!" he sneered furiously, brandishing his wand and aiming it straight at the afore-mentioned boy. Before Snape could cast a spell, Harry was on him.
He landed on Snape's chest and his weight and the force of his leap drove them both to the ground. They rolled there, grappling with each other, each trying to gain an advantage.
One of Snape's wildly flailing arms caught Harry a ringing blow across the ear. Then Harry managed to get his right arm free and punched Snape in the nose. Blood ran down the older wizard's face. Harry's arm, though still thin, were hard and well-defined from the amount of chores he had to do whenever he was at the Dursley's. But Snape was older and theoretically stronger. He drove a fist into Harry's stomach and Harry gasped as the air was driven out of him.
Snape scrambled to his feet, hands reaching out for his fallen wand but Harry, in a move that he had seen on T.V, swung his own leg in an arc, cutting Snape's feet from under him and sending him tumbling again. Harry fell to his knees, his hands and eyes frantically searching the ground for his wand – it had fallen from his pocket during the brief altercation.
As his hands found his way round his wand, he was rushed to the ground, Snape having dived upon him and trying to pin his arms beneath his knees. A look of pure hatred on the older wizard bloodied face.
Stretching his hands in an attempt to reach his wand while trying to twist out of the grip he found himself in was difficult. After some time of helpless thrashing, he gave up, giving a defeated sigh. Guess he would have to learn from Dumbledore and risk the destruction of countless of lives and properties in the process.
The sound of an object cutting through the air accompanied by a low groan and the professor was thrown in the air, smacked by… a branch? He turned to see the Whopping Willow, the holes that served as eyes glowing ominously in the night.
He quickly scrambled up, leaping to the side, miraculously dodging a thick branch that would have ground him to a pulp.
Thank you seeker reflexes!
He picked up his discarded wand and rushed towards the place Snape was thrown to. Upon reaching there, he came across the slumped body of his unconscious potion professor. He frowned as he took in the sight of the blood dripping from a head wound. He could not afford to waste time but it would be wrong to leave the man like he was, on the ground. He might not make it till tomorrow.
So whilst cursing his bleeding heart, he half-carried, half-dragged the potion master to the wall closest to him, resting his back against it.
After picketing his wand and sending one last longing glance at the place he had come to call his home, he took off, his pace fast as he ran across the ground towards the main gate.
The day had shaped up to be one of the worst he could remember. Hopefully, the rest of the year would be better in comparison.
He snorted. Like hell it would be.
.
A whistling tune could be heard as a figure emerged from the forest, an animal carcass swung across his shoulder. The half-giant form of Hagrid, the groundskeeper could be seen as he lumbered his way to the castle.
"Professor Snape! Is that you?" He shouted upon finding the downed body of the potion master crumpled beside a wall, blood pooling beside him.
"Merlin's Beard!" he cursed loudly. "Uh... um… don't you w'rry. I'll get Dumbledore; 'e'll know what to do. Oh, 'nd Ma'am Pomfrey." He added as an afterthought, running towards Hogwarts, the dead animal forgotten in his haste.
. . .
How is the first chapter? To bloody, not enough dialogue? Review and let me know your opinion on the story.
Some warnings about the story (A Must Read):
I have no definite plan for the story. I will be making it up as I go. So any ideas, helps are welcomed.
Don't insult the story. I am a novice and so bound to make mistakes even with extensive cross-checking. Criticisms are, however, welcomed.
This story would be Harry-centric with few characters having their own POV. If you are not a fan of that, sorry and bye-bye.
Like mentioned earlier, this will be slightly AU with elements of my own creation and random stuff gotten from the internet but the Harry Potter works will feature greatly in this story. From the first book to the fifth would be canonically the same. It is from the sixth that it will diverge. Major events would be shown or written as they case may be, but if I may feel it to be not needed in the story, I can and will skip it.
Some characters may be OOC because like stated earlier, I am still a novice when it comes to writing and may make mistakes when it comes to characterization.
Don't be afraid, he will go to the RWBY world, probably in the next chapter or so.
Voldemort will still be the main bad guy (prophecy) just not right now. Beware, he might just be a weeny bit different from the way they portrayed him.
Any spelling error, please make me aware.
At least favorite or follow the story as you read it.
Thank you for giving my story a chance.
ErenYeagerAoT