Chapter 1 Discovery
Harry Potter was pissed. Why you ask? His 'wonderful' Aunt Petunia had dragged him out of his bed at one in the bloody morning because she had discovered one of Miss. Figgs cat's scratching at the dirt in the front lawn. She wanted Harry to fix it. Harry just wanted to sleep. But no one really cares what Harry wants, do they?
Harry blinked at his Aunt Petunia's back as she watched her stalk back into the house. His gaze slowly drifted to the lawn. There was a small circle of disturbed soil that was a few feet deep with chunks of grass littering the ground around it. He glared at the stoic cats whom were staring at him from the other side of the street.
"Bastards." He picked up the shovel that he had left out and began to try to smooth out the soil. Like all teenagers his mind wandered to the point that he realized that he was only making the hole bigger.
There was a small clinking sound, like someone dropping beads on a tile floor. "What the hell?" He set the shovel down and cleared away some of the dirt with his finger tips. A small piece of ivory was exposed before steadily growing larger with each swipe of his hand. When he was able to determine the rest of the outline of the object he pulled it out of the dirt. His eyes widened.
"Phalanges."
The fingers shuddered and began to twitch. An arm pulled itself out of the ground, followed by a shoulder and eventually a head. The skull leered at him and came closer, tilting to the side.
"Shit."
The rest of the skeleton pulled itself out of the ground in one smooth motion and jumped at Harry. He raised the shovel parallel to his body and shoved the skeleton away. He sprinted across the yard and onto the front porch.
The door was locked.
"Fuck!" He banged on the door once then ran around to the side of the house, away from the skeleton thing. His mind raced, hands clenched on the shovel. He tried the back door but that was locked too. He couldn't see his relatives inside.
He could try to force his way in but that would leave an opening for whatever it was…
Harry could see it. It was shuffling along, hand reaching for him with horribly decayed fingers. It wasn't a skeleton like he thought. It had skin, but it was falling off in patches as it walked closer and closer…
He brought his shovel up and braced himself, he wasn't going to run away. If he did it would follow and someone else would get hurt. He was thirteen! He could take care of his own problems! He ignored the voice in the back of his mind that was waiting for someone to show up and shoot the damned thing.
Arms clenched, the veins in his neck and forearms stood out in stark relief. He brought up the shovel a few meters higher as the thing came closer. The voice was speaking in a dreamy slow way and was annoyed. Harry realized he was too.
Couldn't the damned thing hurry up or was Harry not important enough for Mr. Zombie in the bright fuchsia tie. Well fuck him and the horse he rode in on. It was almost close enough to hit.
He raised it just a little higher and… a Death Eater apparated just in his line of smack-age. The voice giggled and wondered what it felt like to be whacked in the head with a shovel and eaten alive at the same time.
As he watched he realized Mr. Z was really quite competent at his job. Mr. DE had to be AK-ing him seven ways from Sunday but he still held on. "He's like a bloody cockroach." Harry didn't realize that he had spoken aloud and didn't realize that he was lowering the shovel either.
Mr. Z could be of some use to him.
