Disclaimer: JKR is god of the Harry Potter universe; I'm just the janitor, cleaning up her mess.
Summary: When Captain Jacob McLan finds a teen wandering in the woods, he takes him in and teaches him the way of the Silver Wolves. Evan now has to deal with a looming threat to humanity, as well as unlock the door to his memories.
Author's Note:
Prologue:
The alley was shrouded in shadows, the sun just setting in the distance. In the city around it, shopkeepers made their last rounds in their families business as the night life of London started its slow awakening. During the day, the city would be filled with the sounds of birds in the parks, people walking to and from anywhere, and more than a few drivers stuck in traffic. Yet it was at night when the city truly came alive. Bars and clubs opened their doors wide, offering new people and patrons a night to remember. Restaurants filled with eager people, some dressed in fine clothing, dining where even a reservation might not be enough to ensure a meal; and others in rags, staggering to the bar where they could drink away their problems with other patrons. Yet all the people on the streets were filled with one thing: anticipation, for a night of revelry.
All but one teen.
The teen in question slipped into an alley, his breathing short and uneven. Ducking behind a few boxes, he silently watched the alleyway entrance for his pursuers. After several minutes, he relaxed, slipping into a doorway. Finding it locked, he untied the knot to a pouch on his jeans, unrolling it to reveal a professional locksmith kit. No doubt it was probably illegal, but the teen couldn't possible have cared less at the moment. Slipping the pick in, he quickly scrubbed the lock, a technique he had found at the library, and was surprisingly quite efficient at. Slowly opening the door, so as not to allow it to squeak and give him away, the teen slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. A quick glance showed that the room was empty save for a table and a few chairs. Taking one, he shoved it up against the door, and then overturned the table to give him some cover. With that done, the teen leaned back against the underside of the table, thinking back to what had brought him to here.
Coming back from the train station, the teen noticed his uncle being unusually quiet. Yet he thought it was simply because of the warning his relatives were given at the station, and was simply happy that he could mourn his godfather's passing in peace.
Recalling his godfather, the teen sighed mournfully. Though he had finally realized it wasn't his fault, he still felt the loss quite keenly. He remembered finding that his uncle had been fired for embezzlement, and was facing charges. His uncle had come home drunk every night, and the only thing that kept his aunt, cousin, and him from leaving was that they simply weren't able to on their own. His own decision was made one night.
The teen heard the front door slam, and sighed. His uncle was in a bad mood today, and he knew what would happen. Normally, Vernon would storm upstairs, yell at Petunia, and then come and threaten him for a while. The teen knew that he was expected to cringe and shake, and so he did, all the while waiting for the chance to escape. His school things were already packed, he had enough muggle and magical money to get to the Leaky Cauldron, and he knew what to do from there. He had planned for a week.
Yet he had forgotten about Murphy's Law, and that seldom do plans work out how they are supposed to. It turned out that Petunia had the same plan he had, but was caught in the act of leaving. Not knowing this, the teen did not expect what happened when Vernon came into his room. The door had burst open, the first thing that screamed something is wrong, but he didn't notice until he was picked up by the neck and slammed into the wall. His breath was knocked out of him by sheer surprise, and by the time he realized the danger, he was thrown onto the ground and kicked in the ribs.
Recalling the injury, the teen ran his hand over his ribs, wincing at times as he touched a sore spot. Luck had kept them from breaking, but they were still quite tender. Moving from his ribs, he checked the rest of his injuries. His arm had been broken by a cricket bat, his shins were bruised by the same, and he had suffered a mild concussion from his head slamming into the bedpost. There were many others, though they were mostly superficial and had healed over easily.
Petunia had found him after that session, lying in his own blood and shards of glass, shivering and shaking as he curled in the fetal position. The sight must have been quite horrifying to see; by the way her face went from pasty white to a nauseous green. Vernon had been proud of his work, and brought Dudley by to show him "How the freaks should be treated". Yet Dudley had reacted worse than Petunia, and practically ran from the room, his retching reaching even the teen's ears. It was the day afterwards when Vernon had left that Petunia and Dudley came for him. He was barely cognizant of their presence, but apparently Petunia had made her mind up when she saw him so helpless, and decided to help the last reminder of her sister, who was through everything still her sister, and took him to the hospital, checking him in under the name of Evan, in honor of her past life, a better time when she had her sister and parents.
After being released from the hospital, he immediately took about half of his vault money, converted it to pounds, and went off in search of them. When he finally found them, Dudley was employed as a bouncer for a nightclub, and Petunia was working nights as a barkeeper, yet they still lived in a rundown apartment. When the teen showed up, he was half expecting to be turned away, or at the very least yelled at for making them suffer like this. But he was accepted inside, and given some food. Thankful for their kindness, he gave them the money, easily ten million pounds, and told them they deserved better after what they had gone through. He had declined their offer to live with them, but stayed for a while at their insistence, deciding to help them move to their new house.
In addition, their stay in the seedier side of society was changing them drastically. Dudley had lost almost all of his fat from not having enough to eat, and was quickly gaining muscle to replace it. Gone was his whale of a cousin, Dudley now was a lean, muscular, and thoughtful young man. In addition, he was working harder on his studies, knowing that the money wouldn't last forever, and was improving his intelligence quite rapidly. The teen quickly found he wasn't the only one to notice, if the sidelong looks from girls were any indication. Yet while the Dudley of yesteryear would have capitalized on this as soon as possible, the new and improved Dudley was almost indifferent, stating to the astounded teen that he wanted to get to know them first, and so hopefully not get a bitch.
Petunia had changed as well, though hers were not as much of body and more of attitude. Due to working in one of the seedier bars, she was exposed to the worst of debauchery, language, and immodesty. Though this had, at first, only reinforced her stance on being proper, she had eventually realized that those she considered inappropriate and uncouth in her previous life were actually somewhere in the middle, neither stuck up, as she had been, nor rowdy, but rather fun loving yet responsible people. As she became used to this fact, Petunia had started to change her mood and loosen up, changing her clothes from prudish dresses with absolutely no imagination to t-shirts and denim jeans. She had also let her hair loose, got a tan, quit putting on her overzealous make-up, and started working out. Though she looked younger with the superficial changes, the largest factor was her attitude. Gone was the frown that had almost always marred her face, now she could be seen with a true smile, even a laugh. She seemed to be younger than the teen had ever seen her before, and he could only guess that this was what she had been like before she married Vernon. It was not uncommon to see her act twenty, humming along to the radio as she cooked in t-shirt promoting U2.
Sadly, the time the teen spent there had to be short, for though he had promised to visit from time to time, he didn't want to put them at risk. Therefore he had left, wandering around London and the surrounding towns for a while, before expanding his borders. The teen had been all over Great Britain, from Edinburg to Cornwall, before heading back.
It was earlier in the day he realized someone had been following him. He had been walking along the sidewalk when he saw a man who was terribly dressed in muggle clothes, an almost sure sign of a wizard. Being careful to keep at least one person between the two of them, he watched the man discreetly, and the longer he watched, the more convinced the teen was that he was being followed.
The man would occasionally look straight at him, breaking eye contact a second after. Yet the most alarming thing had been that when their eyes had accidentally met, the man looked at him with so much hate the teen was surprised he didn't fall over dead. Finally, he had ducked into an alley as the man was detained by a group of young women chattering excitedly. When the teen heard the screams, he forgot completely about maintaining a low profile, breaking into a sprint, his only thought to lose his pursuer. It seemed he had finally done just that.
Huddling behind the table, the teen started at the sound of a rat squeaking near his left shoe. With reflexes honed from grabbing the snitch, his hand shot at the rat, catching it behind the neck. He looked down at the front right paw, catching a glimpse of something shiny. He looked closer, and saw a sharp piece of wire stuck in its paw. Almost imperceptibly, he relaxed, taking his hand away from his pocket, where it had unconsciously moved to. He brought his fingers up to the paw, taking hold of the wire and slowly pulling it out. Once finished with it, he looked at the foil, seeing how it almost glowed in the shaft of light coming down. The teen almost threw it away, but felt oddly drawn to it for some reason. Shaking his head, he turned back to the rat, which was not squeaking, but rather looking at him with grey eyes that were almost human in their intensity. The teen once again shook his head to clear his mind, turning to the wound. He tore a piece of his shirt off and made it into a strip, then wrapped it carefully around the wound. Once finished, he looked at the animal, once again drawn to its eyes.
"That should help," the teen whispered to it, and then let his head fall back to laugh softly.
"Imagine, me talking to a rat as though it would understand me," he chuckled, shaking his head. Ron would think he had gone mental.
But I do understand you.
The teens head shot up, staring at the rat. He wondered if he truly had gone mental.
Put your mind at ease, my friend, you are not insane.
"Are you kidding me?" The teen hissed. "I'm the one talking to a rat!"
The rat seemed to chuckle. Ah, but that is where you are wrong.
"Wrong about what?"
I am not actually a rat.
"Then what the hell are you?"
I am a Shyfter.
"… a what?" the teen asked, more confused than ever.
A Shyfter. I am able to choose any animal form, both magical and mundane. Currently, I am appearing to you as a rat, since this form would draw the most suspicion.
"So how are you able to talk to me?"
There is a bond between you and me, as you saved my life just now.
"Me? But I didn't do anything!"
Remember the wire you pulled out? The Shyfter asked. At the teen's confused nod, it continued. It is also a Shyfter, yet it can only work in the hands of the one chosen, and is deadly to all else.
"So, I was chosen by it?"
Correct.
"But it hasn't changed shape at all!" the teen said, grasping at straws to be able to get out of his predicament.
That is because you haven't told it to. Try and you will see.
The teen reached back into his pocket, his hand brushing against the wire. He pulled it out and looked at it closely. Though metal, it was warm to the touch, and seemed to thrum in synch with his heartbeat. Suddenly, an image came unbidden to his mind, and he looked down to see the wire change into the very same thing in his image. It was a sword, able to be wielded comfortably two handed or one. The sword was actually as light as the wire had been, letting him lift it easily. The teen studied it for a moment. Now it was larger, he could see that the sword did indeed glow, and had markings along the blade. He turned to the rat questioningly.
"What are these things?" he asked, pointing to the etchings.
They are runes, signs of power. It is these that give it the ability to change shape. I think, however, that you are privileged, as you are the first to see its true form in over a century.
"Can it be split?" the teen questioned, thinking that it would be incredibly useful as a pair of knives.
No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than the sword morphed again, this time splitting into two wicked knives, perfect for concealment along his arms. At another thought, there were two sheaths running along his arms, though they were almost indistinguishable from his skin.
Sliding the knives into their respective sheaths, the teen looked back down at the rat.
"So what's your real form?" he asked.
Instead of answering, the rat started to change, but in a different way than the sword. While the sword glowed brightly enough that you couldn't see the actual morphing, the rat gave off no such glow, and so the teen saw every change. The hind limbs became larger, changing to muscled legs with two joints. The front paws grew lengthier, changing to match the hind legs in structure and muscle. The scaly tail sprouted fur and lengthened, growing spikes at the tip. The fur grew all over the body, with that on the back lengthening more and hardening some, creating a spiked look in one direction. The head, however, was the most striking change, with the nose and mouth shooting out from the face and the canines growing, while the eyes became slanted and the ears pointed and alert. When the change was finished, in front of the teen sat a wolf-like creature the size of a small car.
The teen froze, in a combination of shock and fear, though he would deny it later, as he stared at the Shyfter.
Eventually he regained his voice, and managed to ask, "What the bloody hell are you?"
Tilting its head sideways in apparent confusion, the creature replied, I am a Shyfter.
The teen spluttered for a second before he was cut off by a laugh sounding in his head. Snapping his head towards the Shyfter so fast he cramped it, he noticed a look of extreme amusement on its face, which simultaneously embarrassed him for his question and disturbed him, for amusement on a wolf looks far different than on a human. It went on to say, My original form is a Dire Wolf, a species of magical wolf that is almost extinct now.
The teen blinked, stared at the Shyfter, and blinked again. Finally he did what any normal person would have done as soon as a rat talked to them in their mind, and fainted dead away.
He came to about a minute later and abruptly sat up and looked at the Shyfter in suspicion.
"Let me get this straight. You expect me to believe that two Shyfters are now, for all purposes, my companions, and that your original form is an extremely rare animal?"
Yes.
The teen snorted in disbelief. "Excuse me if I don't trust you immediately."
Trust, while helpful, is not necessary for me to be your companion, nor should you trust a voice in your head. All I ask is a chance.
"Fine, you can come with me." Even though I'll probably end up killed the first night.
Even if I wished to kill you, it would be impossible due to the prophecy.
The teen jerked back in astonishment. Did that thing just read my mind?
Yes.
Well, fuck.
Then the teen realized what was said. "Wait, how do you know about the prophecy?"
The same way I knew what you were thinking.
"…Oh."
The teen quickly checked his watch, noting the time.
"Alright, turn back to a rat and let's get out of here. We've spent too long already."
A few minutes later saw the duo opening the door and darting out to shelter behind a stack of boxes. After a few seconds, the teen prepared to exit into the now darkened street.
A noise from the other end of the alley caused the teen to stiffen in fear, his head shooting up and his eyes and nostrils dilating as he tried to make out what had caused it.
After several moments of tense silence, he allowed himself to relax slightly, not taking his eyes off the entrance.
Just when the teen decided it was safe to go, he heard voices coming closer.
"Surely the boy can't have gone far, after what Draco said he looked like at Hogwarts," one voice said, aristocratic and superior. The teen caught his breath in surprise and anger. It looked like Lucius Malfoy had once more broken out of prison, thanks to the incompetent minister. The next voice, however, had him seeing red.
"Of course not, the tracking charm never lies," a woman's voice sniffed, belonging to the killer of his godfather and the torturer of Neville's parents. Bellatrix Lestrange.
He was so enraged that he missed most of the rest of the conversation, only snapping out of it when he heard two words.
"Found you."
His eyes widened. Oh Shi-
The alley suddenly lit up from the curses they sent towards him, with the teen trying to dodge and stay in cover the whole time. Suddenly he remembered about the form of transportation Dobby had used, being able to suddenly disappear from his house. He concentrated on trying to get away from there, not noticing the curse coming towards him. Just as the curse was about to strike him, the teen disappeared with a large bang.
The Death Eaters were astounded, not only had the boy been able to apparate, but he had gone through an Anti-Apparation ward as well. Subdued, they looked at one another, and then portkeyed back to their master in unison. None of them were looking forward to the meeting.
Meanwhile, a grove deep in a forest suddenly lit up, depositing a teen with messy black hair and tattered clothes in the now scarred center. The teen lay unconscious, not knowing that his memories were stripped from him, and he was now more alone than he ever had been before.
So, as I said, I just came up with this idea and decided to run with it. It's my first story, so I would appreciate feedback. The next chapter should be out within a couple of days, but the time between chapters might then stretch for a week or more.
Please Review
Wolphe
