Author's Note – Wrote the majority of this chapter in September but since I've started posting stories I decided to at least put this up.
Warnings – T...that's about it. And AU, that too.
Disclaimer – Don't own Harry Potter and glad I don't. I'm far too demented to write a child's book.
And before you ask, yes, it was inspired by Supernatural a bit. But it's not a crossover and won't turn into one of those 'oh, so you're here now' kind of fics.
I blow at grammar and have no one to help me, just warning you.
Thanks for reading in advance!
* ~ " To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. " – Bill Wilson ~ *
A natural reaction, gasping for air. But there was no air to suck into the body's newly formed lungs, and the human instinct of hysteria took over and the fingers started to tear the throat, as if a new hole would bring in the air it wanted.
The brain sparked and he forced himself to remember who he was.
He brought a hand up and met something solid. He made a fist and tried to move his arm back, intended to punch his way out of his prison, but his elbow hit something. He turned his head and realized he was in complete darkness.
His hand shot up and heard the satisfying crunch of wood breaking. Dirt fell down on him as the still air around him tingled, a large clump bouncing off his forehead. He brought his arm back as far as it would go and punched up again.
The tingle stopped as the wood broke, his fist touching cold, damp earth. He brought his other hand up to tear the wood apart as the earth caved on top of him.
He grabbed the earth and brought it inside, knowing that what he was in had to be filled so he didn't slip back in.
He started crawling out of the hole he made, feeling the pressure of the earth crush his form. He ignored it and focused on getting to the surface.
He wiggled and pushed his legs out of his wooden box. He would've sighed in relief if he had any air in his crushed lungs. He pushed whatever dirt he could underneath him and scooted upward, the dirt becoming wetter the higher he got.
He suddenly heard the telltale muffled downpour of rain. He paused, listening for any sounds.
No hiss or screams. He kept climbing.
His fingertips broke through the mud. He felt the rain pound on them in rhythm as if they were drums.
He rejuvenated heart gave a jolt as he gripped the earth and tried to force his body up. His fingers slipped and brought more mud in the hole.
He used the soil below to push himself up a bit more to get a good hold above. He dug into the soil and pushed his body up, the rain pounding on his back as he finally squirmed free.
He turned and let the rain fall on top of him, relaxing for the first time in what must have been a thousand years. His mind was blissfully empty of thoughts as he stared at the dark blue sky.
When he felt the last of his organs repair itself and took in a breath.
The smog air of civilization burned his new lungs and he quickly coughed it up. He waited a moment before taking another one, knowing he had to get use to it, or the humans would start asking questions.
'Too curious for their own good,' he thought as he saw a few teenagers to his left, frozen as they gazed at him.
He made himself smile good naturally at them, "like my stunt?"
They stared at him in confusion before one asked, "stunt?"
"Yeah," he said with a cocky grin as he spotted the beer cans. "It's a new movie I'm in, requires me to try to dig out of a grave and scare little kids like you."
They gave short laughs as he bounced back to his feet and gave a curtsy.
"I must be gone," one said as she took a sip from her can.
"Got one to spare?" he asked.
"Sure dead man," the oldest one said as he dug in the cooler and held one out for him.
He took it and carefully opened it, not wanted to get mud on it as he drank it all.
He crushed it after he was done, "thanks mate. I was dead thirsty."
They gave a short snort at his corny joke.
"Anyway," he said as he threw the can into his grave, "my assistant should be here to clean this mess up in about an hour or so. Better be gone before than."
Most were too drunk to see the flawed logic, but the more sober one had to call out, "why aren't they here with you now?"
"I like to practice my own stunts alone," he answered. "My assistant would get in the way. Sides, what I just did wasn't exactly legal, and I would rather only one of us get caught in the act. Before you freak out, it's an empty grave, but it's still kinda counts as disturbing the sanctity of the graves if I climb out of one, so the law says..."
He saw the teens buy his lie and waved goodbye as he walked out of the graveyard.
'The teens' car...their parents' car...there we go.' He used his magic to turn off the alarm and open the door. He went inside and turned it on.
"Smells like mid–life crisis," he muttered as he drove it down the street.
He passed the graveyard and gave the leaving kids a short salute before looking back at the road, 'I hope Harry hasn't changed into those kind of teenagers in the time I took to escape that place. I might have to kill Dumbledore twice instead of once.'
* ~ "Even when I'm dead, I'll swim through the Earth, like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones." – Jeffery McDaniel ~ *
Tell me if your interested to see where this goes. It might be a while, though, cause I would have to read book 5 again (it's been a long time, my old friend).