Disclaimer: Oh, yes and I don't own the characters or anything familiar, J.K.R. does. But you know that already, right?
True Myths
Chapter 1 - The Forbidden Forest
Quiet crackling of wood and shuffling of dried leaves at his feet, accompanied with the sound of his own quick, short breaths were the only two things that disturbed heavy silence surrounding him. Quickening his pace, and tightening the robes around him, he entered deeper into the Forbidden Forest. Everything seemed peaceful and asleep. Seemed. He knew this forest too well. He knew it never slept, never letting the trespassers go unharmed, but it didn't scare him nearly as much as the funny, prickling feeling at the back of his neck. Harry felt it only once before, quite a long time ago, but never forgot that particular sensation. He felt as if he was being watched. And whatever was watching him surely didn't want his autograph. Slowly sliding his hand into the pocket, he grasped his wand. One could never be too sure when looking into the deceptive depths that claimed so many lives. He stopped for a moment and looked around him. Not a single dash of wind, not one star on the sky. Suddenly Forest didn't look peaceful, it looked dead.
Why did I have to explore those mysterious movements in the dungeons' corridor? Why was I foolish enough to borrow my cloak to Ron, who forgot to return it? And, why, oh why, did I allow myself to be caught by Snape, of all people, and be sent to detention in the Forest? How in the world did he persuade Dumbledore to approve of my punishment? Oh, I need Hermione now; she would know where to find belladonna in a place like this... Thousand of questions and worries pervaded his mind, one towering above the others. Where is Voldemort? Could he be here, right now?
Even without realizing it, he raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead, exposing his left side to the darkness. Why am I feeling so hot, when it is middle of Nov...
Next thing he knew, he was being knocked to the ground, fighting the tremendous weight that pinned him down. Loud growls were so close, he thought they were coming from the inside of his head. Hot breaths burned side of his neck, and a second later he felt warm liquid washing his skin. It took him a moment to realize it was his own blood. Attack was so sudden, so violent, that both his wand and his glasses lay somewhere in the litter... Somewhere far. He caught the glimpse of the fur that aimed at his side and with all the strength he could muster, tried to fight the attacker off. All he managed was to raise his hand high enough to place one good hit at its head, provoking just one long glare of the fiery red eyes, before it returned to ripping his flesh apart.
So this was way to go. This was how Boy-Who-Lived dies. Killed in the Forest by something. He didn't even know what attacked him, not that it mattered now... But what surprised him, was absence of the pain. Just fear. But no pain. Thought, swift and painful, crossed his mind. How it felt for my parents? Did they... will I meet them? He didn't know where the last thoughts came from, as well as the feeling of lightness. He forced himself to open his eyes, and blurry image revealed no attacker. Just a bit of foggy sky above. No growls, no yelps of pain. (He expected to hear his own.) Silence, once again. It was the only thing he felt, that and watery feeling on his neck and chests. Just when his thought began to whirl and make no sense, his trained hearing picked up strange sound. Sound that didn't belong here. Swish of the cloak. Struggling to make a line between the reality and the hallucinations, he heard soft female voice...
"Mum?...", he breathed as he fell into unconsciousness.
His body sprang back to life, as warm and cozy feeling enveloped it, but his mind was one step behind and still in a half-dream, trying to determine whether he was dead or not. His hand slowly went over his neck and chests... He felt sticky liquid on his fingers, but he couldn't find the wounds. And it still didn't hurt. Maybe he wasn't dead, after all. He tried to open his eyes, but only managed to flutter them a few times. Still, his eyelids felt heavy. As he fought to make sense of the past few moments, his attention was suddenly turned to the feeling of soft touch on his cheeks.
"Get up, come on,", voice was strangely familiar, soft and determined in the same time. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the face of a young woman, hauntingly white against black hood she wore. Her features were stern, but there was something on her that radiated with kindness and fragility. Nevertheless, her black eyes looked at him with outermost determination and strength. She helped him up.
"Did... did you... save me?", Harry muttered, still not quiet understanding what happened.
"Yes. Now, come on, we don't have much time,", she replied quietly. She took his hand and pulled him forward, stepping quickly and confidently. Harry had hard time following her pace, but was astounded by the way she orientated herself in this darkness.
Breaking the silence, Harry asked, "Who are you?"
Woman stopped and turned to face him. They were almost on the edge of the Forest, and the light from Hogwarts castle brightened their way a bit more. It was now that Harry realized she had her long hair in small braids with leather straps in them. Her hair was black, just as his was. But her skin was very pale, giving her almost a supernatural look. She gave him a curious look and said, "Many asked me that, and no one lived to tell the tale." Although she said it in a kind voice, he knew she wasn't joking. He lowered his gaze and followed her back, towards the castle.
They passed Hagrid's hut in a matter of seconds, and stopped only when found themselves in front of the entrance.
"Dumbledore is still the Headmaster?"
Harry nodded. There was something in her eyes, which made him feel she was probing the bare essence of his being and he couldn't force himself to look up.
"You will see me again. Now go in."
He spoon around and fled to the door, when her voice called him again.
"Harry Potter."
"Yes, ma'am?" Harry answered almost instantaneously.
She gave a small laugh. "No one ever called me that… I am Xandra. Catch." She sent something in the air and straight into his hands. "A little souvenir." Xandra turned around and with a soft step went around the castle. Harry stood silent for a second, and then looked at the thing in his hands. He almost had to hold his breath. Long, sharp fang glistened in the moonlight. Bloodstain was still visible at the point.
To be continued…A/N: Gosh, I hope you people liked it… There are so many great stories on ff.net, mine can't even compare… But I would greatly appreciate if you could REVIEW!!! Please!!! Please?
A/N: Oh, yes… and don't raise your hopes high about Xandra. She is not Mary-Sue, nor whom you think at all. I guess you will just have to keep reading to find out who or what she is…
Oh, and no, for God sake, no! She is not Lily. Lily is dead, people. Make your peace with it!