Disclaimer: I'll only do this once but I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to its rightful owner. I only own the plot and my original character.

"Why is it so hard to find someone
Who cares about you?
When it's easy enough to find someone
Who looks down on you."

Someone Who Cares, Three Days Grace

It was the last week of August, and as usual in the summer, he was not allowed to leave his room from his uncle and aunt. They even barricaded the little window. The only time he was allowed to leave it was when he had to do whatever they ordered him to do. This could range from cooking Dinner or preparing breakfast and mowing the lawn to cleaning the entire house in less than a day. Even though he could wield magic, he wasn't allowed to use it so he was defenseless whenever his Uncle decided to punish him because his steak wasn't cooked the way it was supposed to be or whatever reason he came up with to hit him. Over the years he grew accustomed to it, that didn't mean that it didn't hurt any less that his only relatives treated him like trash.

He didn't know why but for the last two days they didn't ask that much from him and he didn't want to leave his room even if he could. The less he saw them, the better. So he had spend the past two days reading and preparing for the upcoming year, hoping that it would be a calmer year than his three previous years at Hogwarts.

While he was reading in his Defense Against The Dark Arts textbook he began to reminisce about all the events that happened in his life. There was the obvious event that still left tears in his eyes every time he thought about it, Especially now that he had a glimpse of what had really happened that fateful night, albeit with the help of a Dementor. He saw a glimpse of his Mother, protecting him, begging Voldemort to take her life instead of killing her son. Even if the Dementor had nearly sucked his soul out, he was grateful. He now knew that at the very least his parents had cared for him, had loved him. And see where that got them. He thought bitterly, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. His concentration to study completely lost he decided to close his book and with a deep sigh laid down in his bed, if one could even call it that, and stared at the ceiling.

He always doubted if his parents had loved him at all. It was perhaps stupid to think this but the only knowledge he had before his third year is that Voldemort killed them. He had stayed up countless of nights wondering why they didn't just run away from it all, find a safe place so they could live as a family, instead of sacrificing themselves just to save his life. It seemed the logical solution to him. Perhaps he would've found us anyway. Harry argued with himself and even though he still had a lot of question he at least knew that someone had loved him deeply. He still had a lot of questions though and would pay anything to spend some time with them, even though if it was only a minute.

He sighed again, trying to clear his mind of the sad memories from his mind. Which brought him to the start of his first year at Hogwarts, meeting the Weaslys, rescuing Hermoine from the troll in the bathroom, The Philosopher's Stone and most importantly his very first fight with Voldemort. Accepting the fact that in the wizarding world he was pretty much a celebrity, The-Boy-Who-Lived. In this year he had noticed that a lot of students were talking behind his back, something they'll probably do for many years to come. And even though he had somewhat befriended Ron and Hermoine he couldn't shake the feeling of being lonely. He couldn't shake the feeling that the first people he had ever befriended only saw him as The-Boy-Who-Lived too. He often caught the jealousy in Ron's voice or the bossy attitude Hermoine liked to use. He knew that he closed himself of to the outside world, more than eleven years at the Dursley's will do that to someone, and making friends wasn't one of his forte. He was at least happy that he had some sort of friendship with the two of them, it was better than nothing. He just wished that he could find someone who understood him, someone who was just as lonely as him…

His second year was more of a disaster in his opinion, with almost the entirety of the school turning against him because they thought he was the Heir of Slytherin and thought that he was the one petrifying everyone. The fight with the Basilisk was something he'd rather forget than relive, he still shuddered whenever he thought about the massive snake like creature. If it weren't for Fawkes and the sorting hat he wouldn't have made it out there alive.

His third year was probably the worst year so far. With Sirius Black escaping Azkaban who in the end turned out to be his godfather, which wasn't the worst by any means, he was happy he had Sirius, someone other than his parents that cared about him. The worst part about the third year is nearly getting his soul sucked out of his body by Dementors, twice.

He really wished his forth year would be a calm year for once, He just wanted to feel normal for one year. No Voldemort, dementors, giant spiders or basilisks, just him focusing on his grades to build his future. One can only wish he mused with a small smile. Without even knowing how late it was, he slowly closed his eyes. He only had one more week to go with the Dursley's and then he could finally go back to Hogwarts.

XXX

Fleur had already prepared everything for her seventh year at Beauxbatons and had already carefully packed everything so she didn't need to do it in a hurry. Not knowing what to do she decided to read a bit more about the maturing of Veela. Once she had turned fourteen her mother had 'the talk', that every teenager that aged dreaded, and explained what it meant to be Veela. To begin with she had told her that there was no half-Veela or Quarter-Veela, a common misconception in the wizarding world. You either are a Veela or not. She had also explained that Veela do not age like normal people do. Their bodies stay like that of a young child until their own body decides they are ready to mature and become a woman. Beside this she had also explained how sexual intercourse worked and how birth works. Fleur already knew this of course, every teenager probably knows this at that age, but her mother explained it anyway. Even adding to it that There are no male Veela, that it is very difficult for Veela to find a suitable partner, that they can transform into a bird like creature when emotional, control fire and that they cannot have sons.

Fleur already had experience with the second point her mother made, it is not only hard to find a partner as Veela, even making friends seems impossible. The boys barely notice her due to her size and childish appearance and the girls laugh at her for the same reason. She had voiced this concern to her mother back then and she had warned that it would only be worse once she matured. She had warned her that once she matured that the boys would no longer ignore her and would be captivated, even infatuated, by her, for no simple reason than her being a Veela. The Girls on the other hand would turn to jealousy and probably name calling. Her mother had said that it is possible to control her allure once she matured, and that is why she was spending her last week of summer reading about it, hoping that she could at least control it a little at the start of the school year.

She had no false hope for making friends though, she had been lonely her entire life and doubted that anything would change soon. She had her parents and her little sister, and that was enough for her. With a little sigh she continued to read the book her mother had given her.

XXX

In a place worse than Azkaban, guarded by demons from the worst nightmares. The Ministry of Magic had never uttered a word about this place, and never will. The Ministry of Magic uses this as a prison for those they deem unworthy of a trail, for those that are too big of a threat to even put in Azkaban. This place has stood and served its purpose for centuries and many more to come.

The building itself was old, nature was even starting to reclaim some of its territory, grass and small trees were growing inside, the smell of rotting corpse lingered in the air. Most of the prisoners here were small, frail human like beings with sickly green looking skin all over, only with a pair of cloth covering their most private areas. Most of these had been there for years, perhaps decades and were deranged. Some of these things would sit in a corner, silently muttering to themselves, or endlessly banging their head on the wall.

In one of these cells sat a young man with his back on the wall, right leg upwards so he could rest his arm on it. He looked nothing like the other prisoners, he didn't have the sickly green skin and wore charred wizarding robes. He looked down, staring at his dairy. There was a small crack in the ceiling of the cell, allowing the sun to cast its rays inside for a brief amount of time. The man looked up when his few streaks of light were blocked by something, or rather someone.

He couldn't get a good look at the person staring at him from above but he could see some armor. The person didn't say anything to him, he only threw some sort of key in his cell. And here I thought this place was done screwing with my head. The demons have lost their touch if this is the best mental torture they could come up with. He thought to himself. Perhaps they're sending us on leave. He huffed in mild annoyance. There is no way that's the key to my cell door but oh well, couldn't hurt to try. Don't have anything to do otherwise. He grabbed his dairy and the keys and stood up after putting it away safely.

To say he was surprised when he heard a click when he turned the key was putting it mildly. Those freaks actually did it, they must be planning something. He took the key out and put it away too, just in case, readied himself and starting walking through the halls.

He passed a lot of his fellow prisoners but didn't pay any attention to them. He didn't exactly know how long he had been in that godforsaken place but he had grew accustomed to their moans or silent whispering over the time. After ten minutes of walking through small corridors he finally found the exit to another building with a giant door. He pushed them open and looked around. Vases were scattered around the room with a few other prisoners walking aimlessly around. There was another pair of big green doors right in front of him, and an open portcullis on the left wall. He started walking forwards until a loud shriek could be heard around him. He immediately took a step back and looked up.

On the roof stood a humongous demon with a big club in its hands. It sprung towards him and nearly crushed him under its massive frame. Yeah, I am not fighting this thing without weapons. So he ran to the open portcullis in search for his weapons, or at least a weapon. The portcullis slammed shut behind him and he found himself in the sewers, or at least he thought. He had been stuck in that cell for, probably years, and had no idea how where all of these corridors lead too. He only saw one way ahead so he marched on.

After a small walk and climbing a ladder he found himself on a second floor, and he could see the demon looking at him through the rails. It had no way to touch him and he was sure its little wings couldn't lift it high enough to fly over them. He walked on and saw another set of stairs. When he ascended the stair he could see something heavy move, at first he paid it no mind, thinking it was probably the demon in the main hall walking around. It was not the demon however because a couple of steps later he could see a massive boulder on top of the stairs, slowly rolling towards him. Within seconds it came tumbling down and he had just enough time to jump sideways on another set of stairs that lead back to the first floor. He dusted himself off but looked back when he heard the boulder crashing into the wall revealing another room. Couldn't hurt to look. He decided and make his way into the room.

In this room he saw an armored figure, laying against the wall, holding his right side. He concluded that they were probably hurt and quickly made his way over to them. He didn't have his normal healing supplies with him but hopefully he could do something. The armored figure looked up as he approached.

"Hello there, Undead." He said between breaths, holding his side more tightly. "It seems that you have found me in quite a pickle." He joked lightly. "My name is Oscar." He introduced himself, looking up to the young man standing before him.

"So it seems, Oscar, I am Yuri, is there anything I can do to help?" Yuri asked while crouching next to him.

"Nice meeting you Yuri." He huffed slightly, in amusement or annoyance, Yuri couldn't really tell. "Could you help me taking of my helmet?"

"Of course." Yuri took of the helmet to reveal, if he had to guess, a middle aged man with short black hair, sweat beats all over his forehead. The helmet looked oddly familiar so he asked the first question that sprung to his mind. "Are you the one that threw that key into my cell?"

"Yes, I did. But it seemed that I angered the demons guarding this place and according to the noise outside, I reckon you did the same?" Oscar asked, still avoiding Yuri's offering for help.

"Yeah ran into a humongous Demon guarding a big green door, don't know where it leads to though. It has ben years since I have been out of that cell."

"That green door is the exit out of here, kill that demon and you'll be a free man." He smiled weakly before hissing in pain again.

"Please, Oscar, you got me out of that cell, let me help you." Yuri pleaded, he was not going to abandon a man who had saved him from the horrors of this place.

"Thanks for offering, Yuri, but it is too late for me."

"Why did you free me in the first place?" Yuri's eyes narrowed at the man, people didn't do something out of the kindness of their heart, especially for Undead like him.

"Because I am Undead too, Yuri, even though I've never been locked up in this place, I know it is a horrible experience." He answered honestly. Yuri was taken aback, It had been ages since he had seen another one of his kind. He still wondered why Oscar had saved him, Undead weren't usually friendly with each other either.

"I saved you because you are the future of our kind, Yuri. You are the Chosen Undead. You are destined to lead our kind into a golden age!" He exclaimed but frowned at Yuri's groan of annoyance in response.

"You may groan but you cannot escape the truth. You cannot escape your destiny." Oscar said. He grabbed Yuri's arm to gain his full attention again. "You are our race's last hope." He said sadly. Yuri pried himself away and stood back up.

"How long have I been rotting away here?" He said, trying to not sound annoyed or angry at the man who had saved him.

"From what I can tell for over fifteen years, perhaps close to sixteen years." Oscar whispered, he had heard to stories about this place and what it did to their kind. It was designed to break them and to leave nothing behind except for an empty, emotionless husk. When trying to save the young man before him he had seen the result of this place, those things that wandered free here were once Undead too like himself and Yuri. He had lost a lot of blood already, his end was nearing, he could feel it.

"I've left your possession in the corner over there." He pointed to the left corner. He smiled a little when he saw Yuri's own smile at the sight of his weapons and his other possession. "My time is getting shorter, Yuri, ascend the stairs and open the door with this key." He said while handing him the keys. "If you go left you can drop down on the demon, killing it in one swift blow, or at least lethally injure it." He finished while making himself as comfortable as possible, ready to finally embrace death.

"I can't leave you here, Oscar. I am sure I can heal you with a bit of Estus. I should have some left in my bag." He started moving but Oscar stopped him.

"No" He started forcefully and Yuri raised an eyebrow. He was about to retort but Oscar silenced him. "You should not waste your remaining Estus on me, Yuri. I am happy with this, I can finally embrace death. By the gods, I deserved it after bearing this curse for so many years." He said with a small smile. He looked back up at the bewildered young man. "You still have your life before you, Yuri, do not let this curse beat you down. You are perhaps Undead but you are still a man. You have not yet lost your humanity, remember this." Yuri listened attentively. "People may shun us, hate us, see us as nothing but walking corpses but we are more than that." He continued, his voice slightly dropping. Oscar time was running out but he was determined to encourage this young Undead.

Their kind was often hated by not only humans but by all living things. Giants, Goblins, Elves, Centaurs, Humans had many differences but their hate for the Undead was not one of them. In the eyes of the living, the Undead were nothing more than walking corpses. Which was technically true but only a few people actually tried to understand their situation. Oscar hadn't been treated any differently, he could count his friends on one hand. Due to this treatment he knew that Undead often travelled alone, making them lonely. He would try to convey to Yuri that he shouldn't choose this path. He saw confusion in Yuri's eyes, probably not knowing why he was telling all this.

"You do not have to carry this burden alone, find friends who accept you for who you are, perhaps even loved ones. It will make your task not easier, but so much more worth it." He finally finishes, hoping that Yuri would heed his advise in the future to come.

"The people I encountered before the Ministry put me here weren't friendly at all. It is the fate of every Undead, Oscar, I had enough time here to accept that." Yuri answered. And Oscar could hear the sadness under his bitter tone. From personal experience he knew that everyone needed at least someone to fight for.

"I know, Yuri, I know all to well." He started weakly, he started to feel dizzy, probably from blood loss. "But at least try. I know there are not a lot of people but there are some out there who see us at least as equals." He saw Yuri deep in thought, taking his words in. "I would suggest that you go to the British Isles, Scotland to be precise. I believe your quest could end there, young Undead." He suggested and Yuri gave him a nod, his previous words probably already forgotten. "Now, you should really go."

"Thank you, Oscar, For everything. I'll try to remember your words." Yuri said in honesty, looking down on his wounded fellow Undead. After giving Oscar another nod, he went to grab his stuff Oscar had put in the corner and disappeared through the hole the boulder had made.

"That's all I ask, Chosen Undead, Be safe on your travels, do not turn Hollow and may the Flame guide you." He heard Oscar calling out to him as a final goodbye. Yuri never really bothered with goodbyes, he never had a reason too. He hadn't travelled with a lot of people, and he didn't care about them enough to give them a sincere goodbye. Except Quelana. The thoughts of his former mentor entered his mind. She taught him everything he knew and helped him during his beginning years of being Undead. She was probably the closest he was of having a friend. he hoped that she was still out there, somewhere, so he could at least see her again. He knew the chances were slim, 16 years is a long time, but an Undead could dream, right? No they can't he thought bitterly, faintly shaking his head, forcing all memories from his former mentor away so he could focus on the task at hand: getting out of this place. Apparently, while lost in thought, he had ascended the stair slower than he thought and scowled at himself. He knew better than to get distracted, he recollected his thoughts and focused ahead, seeing the portcullis Oscar had talked about. He walked towards it and opened and was, against his better judgement, again lost in thought.

He really meant his words to Oscar, he was grateful that the man had saved him. He couldn't shake the sadness that he felt for the whole ordeal. He respected the man's wish but with his death it means that there is one less Undead. Yuri had no idea how many Undead were left, if there even were any. Qualana had once told him that he was one of the last bearers of the Darksign, this didn't mean however that there weren't any older Undead running around. It also seemed that a lot of Undead became Hollow in this place He recollected the images of the frail and sickly forms of his fellow prisoners. They were once, like him, Undead, but succumbed to the curse and became Hollow.

Once he walked through the portcullis he saw a small Balcony on his left side. He decided to look over it to the ground below and was surprised to see the humongous demon stare back at him, grunting quietly, mace at the ready. He checked his weapons. The familiar feeling of his pyromancy flame in his left hand and his sword in his right hand made him smile lightly. And With a nod to reassure himself he followed Oscar words and jumped of the Balcony with a yell, plunging towards the head of the Demon.

It turned out that Oscar was right, He stabbed the demon right through its head, making it stumble backward. Yuri quickly pulled out his sword out, and jumped down to avoid the fountain of demon blood that sprayed out of the wound. It appeared the demon, in his last effort, tried to squash him underneath itself, for it was falling forwards. Yuri quickly made a spurt to the green door and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a big thud behind him. And with as much strength as he could muster, he pushed the giant green doors open.

He almost moaned in pleasure when the fresh air greeted him. After 16 years of sitting in a small cell with nothing to do, the sense of freedom hit hard, a small smile forming on his face. And for the first in a long time, the smile was genuine, He dared himself to hope that, perhaps, everything would be all right. The only thing he had left to do was to find a way to Scotland.

Disclaimer: I also do not own Dark Souls or any of it's content. I only own the plot and my Original Character.

A/N: Welcome everyone to my newest project. This will be my first fanfiction I've ever written. I don't know how frequent I'll update this but I hope at least once a week. This will be a heavy AU. I decided to combine Harry Potter and Dark Souls together, hopefully making my own interesting story. This will be a Harry/Fleur story because I think they are adorable and are in my opinion one of the better ships of the community. They are not a lot of Harry/Fleur fics so I decided to give it a try! I have also planned a pairing with my OC but I'll keep that to myself for now. I also have to say that I love listening to music, so you'll probably find some song lyrics at the end and/or end of a chapter to set the tone. I want to say that I do not own any of these songs in any way, I'll always put the band and the name of the song under it! The last thing I want to mention is that English is not my native language so if you see some errors, please let me know! If you want, leave a review with your thoughts and/or constructive criticism. Thank you, have a good day!