A/N: I'm writing this because I lost my muse for my Hunger Games story.
It was nearing midnight on the street of Privet Drive. All residents were asleep. All except one.
A eight year old Harry Potter sat outside of Number 14, haveing been banished from the house because of an act of freakiness.
Uncle Vernon had wanted a large dinner, for he was to have a dinner party. But Harry's problem was that Vernon Dursley was going to be home in minutes. Why was this a problem? Harry, being but 8 years old, couldn't cook very well, so therefore the dinner was burning.
The door was wrenched open and slammed with a 'thud' in seconds. A pudgy man whose face was purple came strutting in. As soon as Harry saw him, his worry sky rocketed (which, of course, un-knowingly, made him do a bit of accidental magic.)
Vernon watched in horror as everything in the multitude of pots and pans turned from burnt and unrecognizable to perfect dishes. A vein in his forehead buldged, and his face, if possible, turned even more purple.
"BOY!" He yelled, his voice bellowing to the upstairs where Dudley Dursley stuck his head out of his bedroom and waddled towards the stairs. "You.. You... You FREAK! Doing that FREAKINESS in OUR household? You are going to pay for this!"
The whale of a man menacingly walked over and towered above Harry. Dudley stood in the doorway, a look of pure glee on his face as he watched his father beat up the orphan. After a while, Vernon stopped and said, "Since there is no time, we're going to have to serve this to the guests. But you will not go unpunished, Oh no no! Tonight's forecast is pouring rain."
A grin slid across Vernon Dursley's face, and he threw Harry Potter into the Cupboard Under the Stairs. Harry waited for the dinner party to end, savouring his last moments of heat before his Uncle threw him outside for the night.
He had been out here for four hours. The night really seemed to be seeping the warmth out of him. Harry was shivering for his life. It was near the end of Autumn, and luckily for him, contrary to what Uncle Vernon had said, it did not rain.
Harry stood up, thinking of the boyscout manual he had nicked from Dudley's room. One of the main things was that you want to move to stay warm. He slowly limped to the end of Privet Drive and to the new playground. The old one was farther away and alot more dangerous.
Not that his Uncle would care if he got hurt, quite the opposite, Vernon's wildest dream was to have the run out from under his hands. In fact, if Vernon were there right now, he'd be telling Harry to go to the old playground.
By now, Harry had reached the swings and was starting to move back and forth. The lamposts were flickering wildly like they usually did this late at night. He would know, having been put outside at night very often. The wind picked up.
Was that a breath on the back of his neck? A whisper in his ear? He didn't know, but shivered anyways.
He was quite literaly thrown off the swing moments later, tumbling and landing on the plastic slide. Whatever had thrown him off was advancing on him. The dark figure was blurred, even with the lampost glow. It stopped abruptly, maybe a yard from him.
He heard in a voice, smooth like silk, "Ah. The famous Harry Potter. What could he be doing this far from home at night? No matter, the wards are only around the house, not the streets around it. You are mine for tonight, boy. Or should I let you live?" There was a pregnant pause, Harry was to scared to say anything. "Yes, let the wizarding world know that their saviour is dark. Not a bad idea."
And then the blur lunged.
Darkness enveloped him almost immediately, cacooning him from harm. His entire body began to heat up to a normal tempature and his bruises healed. Time was flying by, and soon it was mid-day.
Harry's eyes flew open. He was no longer in the playground, but in the abandoned office building downtown. He looked around the cubicle he seemed to be in and noticed that, not only was he lying on an actual mattress, instead of his normal pile of blankets, there was a curtain, a makeshift door, if you will.
He slowly sat up, the muscles in his back stretching. He yawned loudly, and moved from the bed. Standing up, he pulled away the curtain. In front of it was a messy haired boy, around 13 or 14, and the first thing he noticed was two puncture mark scars on his neck. Harry felt his neck, around the same place, and discovered that he had an identical set of scars.
The boy held out a hand and Harry shook it. "I'm Xander, but you can call me X. I'm second in charge of this orphan base. You probably have a lot of questions, so feel free to ask any. Follow me." Xander turned left and started walking past more cubicles, some with the 'doors' open, some with them closed.
"Where are we going?" Asked Harry, as they walked past a 5 year old. The boy had a determined look on his face, and was carting a small wagon of medical supplies.
"We're heading to the infirmary, of course we don't have a real doctor, just Tammy, but she's going to check and make sure the first part of the transformation went well." X looked pointedly at Harry, as if he thought Harry may understand. Harry's expression must've been clear, because X tapped his neck on the pair of scars. "This is the bite of a Vampire. And no, it does not mean we burn in sunlight. It means our senses are enhanced and we have more advanced abilities. We are also, in someways, Immortal."
Harry's jaw dropped at that. "Immortal? As in, never ever ever die immortal?" X laughed at that.
"No, it just means it's harder to kill us. Ah, and here we are. I'll have one of these twins, Penny or Piper, help you back to your room when Tammy is done with you. Good luck." And with that, X stuck his hands in his pockets, whistled a 'innocent' tune, and walked off.
Harry turned and was ushered in by Penny (Piper? They looked so similar!) He sat down on the table and waited. He tapped his feet against the table, he tapped his fingers, he hummed a tune, did anything he could to break the quiet.
Suddenly, a red-head burst through some more doors. She was busy scribling away on a clipboard and hadn't noticed Harry yet. He cleared his throat quietly, and when she hadn't seemed to have heard Harry, he whispered almost inaudibly, "Hello."
The girl jumped and turned around. "Nearly gave me a heart attack, didn't you! I'm sorry, I'm Tammy, the unofficial 'nurse'. I just want to make sure the first part of your transformation has gone correctly. This is the part where your body heals all injuries and any current harm. Can you take your glasses off?"
Harry did as Tammy said and the world became a beautiful meld of colours. Tammy shined a light in his eye and also checked his nose and ears. Afterwards she asked him to go behind a curtain to check for bruises. He came back out with a negative, she took some notes, and dismissed him.