Sigh...what am I thinking? I'm sitting here, one year away from graduating college...and yet, I can't resist posting this. It's meant to be a fanfic of epic proportion--spanning six or seven 'books,' and a combination of the magical worlds of Rowling and Butcher in a way I'll be damned if I'm not still unsure of. But, what can I do? My pride won't let this sit still, not after all the work I already did on it.

That being said, the vast majority of the work I did on this was over the summer of 2007. I think I was writing through fall, but I definitely haven't touched this in about six months or more. However, I need to get back to writing. I haven't been truly happy since the school year started, and I think that that is the product of a combination of factors--living in a fraternity house and being the president of said fraternity, chief amongst them. How can such a bunch of legal adults be such fucking CHILDREN all the time?! But, I digress...

I hope to receive as much positive responses from this one as I did from my foray into the Naruto-verse. I certainly enjoyed it when I was thinking it up, and I think it has a lot of potential. There's someone I have to thank, though--when I started this, I shared a discussion with Shezza88, a great author in the HPverse, during which I communicated to him the complete plot, from start to finish, of this story. The discussion was mostly for my benefit, so that I could get down the entire story line into text. Regardless, Shezza seemed to like it--though there were quite a few doubts as to whether I could take this all the way. Oh, well, we'll see, won't we?

Final note: As this story goes along, there may be inconsistencies inside the plot. If that happens, I may have to go back to earlier chapters and edit shit. I hope that I'll remember to make note of those changes, but I may not. Oh well--the final product is the goal.

Disclaimer: HP and Dresden not mine. If you're surprised then get the fuck out of here.

Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Spirit

Chapter 1

Harry was running. He wasn't sure what he was running from, or where he was running to, but there was a little voice in his head that pushed him onward. Even while he ran as fast as he could, Harry could feel the Dark. It curled around him, even though he couldn't see it. It leeched the life from all around him, it destroyed everything it touched, and no matter how hard he ran, Harry could feel it right behind him, gaining.

It could almost taste his fear.

Harry knew it was a dream, but it felt real—more real than anything he had ever experienced. A part of him never stopped screaming, fear driving it to near insanity as the Dark drew in closer, closer, twisting and churning, boiling with what Harry might've called laughter, if the Dark had a mouth. The sinister entity grew closer, ever closer, and right when it was about to wretch him from his feet, devour him whole—

Bright white light burst into his vision. The Dark recoiled from the light, and Harry felt as it retreated from the purity, the innocence of this light. Harry would almost feel the Dark hissing in agony and rage, but the brightness seemed to sear away even his own terror, suffusing him with a power that calmed his mind, cleared away the fear, and relaxed his tired body. He let it envelop him, surrounding him in bliss and beauty and serenity

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Harry bolted upright, his head bumping the ceiling, shocks of pain making him cry out more in surprise than anything else. Then the pain hit, and he had to bite his lip to stop the tears from falling. Harry lifted a hand to his head, feeling a knot start to form where he had hit the stair, but thankfully no blood. He shook himself free of the last vestiges of his dream, though the thought of the bright light continued to sooth him.

Harry stretched his skinny arms up above his head as far as they would go, yawning as his black locks fell over his eyes. He brushed them away, his hand sliding over the jagged scar adorning his forehead, then rubbed the sleep from his tired green eyes. Harry pulled on ridiculously over-sized hand-me-downs, using an old shoelace to tie the 30-inch waistline around his slender frame. Tugging his sleeves up to around his elbows, Harry pushed open the door to the cupboard and stepped into the hallway, yawning as he made his way to the kitchen.

He entered the kitchen and almost immediately his aunt ordered, "Put on that apron and get the eggs," scowling at his disheveled appearance. She kept a steely gaze on him as he pulled the footstool to the refrigerator and reached up, grimacing in distaste as he didn't drop any. He slowly brought them back to her, almost flinching when she yanked them out of his hands, one of her long, manicured nails scratching his arm. He tried not to tear up at the flare of pain, and turned back to get the cheese before Aunt Petunia yelled at him again.

The next hour proceeded in this way, her ordering him around and him getting whatever she needed, until a loud series of thuds announced Uncle Vernon's descent down the stairs. He graced Harry with a scowl after pecking his wife on the cheek, and sat down at the table, a steaming plate of eggs and bacon set down in front of him. Harry watched as his uncle unfurled the paper that he had retrieved a few minutes ago, then turned to his aunt, who gave him his own (noticeably smaller) plate of a hard boiled egg, one strip of bacon, and two slices of unbuttered toast. Harry sat himself as far from his uncle as he could, doing his best to remain unobtrusive.

He escaped breakfast with as little interaction with his aunt and uncle as he could, and hurried outside in hopes to escape the usual chores that they forced on him 'for his own good.' Harry scowled at the thought, but pushed the unfairness from his mind and started walking down Privet Drive, looking for something to entertain his young mind.

It didn't take long for something to come about. Not a few minutes into his walk, from the far end of the drive, Harry saw a large truck pull onto the street, followed by a small, beat up car that looked like it was older than Harry's uncle. He watched as the truck pulled up across the street from Number 4, stopping in front of Number 5, just across the street from his uncle's house, and the small car parked on the other side of the driveway. Harry saw two men in matching blue uniforms step out of the truck, and two men and a woman out of the car, and the men started unloading the truck. Harry watched as the four of them started pulling boxes and furniture out of the car, listening to the woman tell them where to put each with grandiose hand gestures. She turned towards Harry and, seeing him watching her, gave him a little wave.

She was much shorter than his aunt, maybe by a head, but much pretier. Even from several houses down, Harry could see her long, wavy blonde hair fanning out from the wind, and a bright smile that made him blush and shyly hid behind a nearby bush. He glanced out, but the woman was already back to giving out instructions. The wind whipped her knee length yellow sun dress around her legs. One of the men from the car stopped next to her and said something, and she glanced in Harry's direction before throwing her arms around the man and giving him a big, long kiss. She ran her hands over his light blue collared shirt and down to his light brown khaki pants, clenching his behind, causing him to jump slightly. One of the movers stopped to watch before his partner nudged him, and they went back to lifting things out of the back, listening to where the third man said to put them.

Harry stepped out from behind the bush and ran past a house, hiding behind the next row of hedges, watching to see if the new couple saw him. They were still kissing, and Harry jumped out and ran to the next row, which divided Number 5 from Number 7. He peeked out to see that the man and woman were staring at him, the man with a raised eyebrow and the woman with a smile. Harry blushed and hid himself behind the bush again.

Harry peeked over the hedge to meet the blue-gray eyes of the woman, as she leaned over the hedge, her eyes sparkling with laughter as he jumped back and fell over in surprise. He lay there, stunned, as the woman came around and bent down on one knee next to him. Harry sat up, his face a rosy red as she helped him stand up. She grinned at him, and said, "Well, hello there! What's your name, cutie?"

Harry blushed an even deeper red, looking away and scratching the back of his head. She continued to smile at him, and he hesitantly glanced back, looked down and scuffed his feet on the grass. "Harry," he mumbled. She kept smiling and he slowly smiled back at her. She really was quite pretty...

Her husband came over and knelt down next to her, giving Harry a warm smile. "Harry, is it? I'm Alton, and this is Bethany," he put his arm around her shoulders, and she graced him with another beautiful smile. He motioned towards Number 5, where the movers were moving more of their things into the house.

Bethany turned back to Harry, "Harry, would you like to earn five pounds?" Harry's head jerked up; he hadn't ever had any money of his own, and he cast a suspicious eye back and forth between the two. He slowly nodded his head, and Bethany smiled again; he really liked her smiles, Harry decided, and he returned one back hesitantly. "Well, we have a lot of boxes that need to be unpacked. Would you like to help?"

Harry nodded, and took Bethany's hand as she led him through the front door and into a kitchen that looked almost identical to his aunt and uncle's. Well, except that instead of utensils and plates and curtains, everything was bare and in boxes. The third man, who Harry had yet to be introduced to, stopped in the hallway outside the kitchen and smirked at Bethany. Bethany gave him a stern glare, and the man chuckled and went back outside. Bethany smiled at Harry and said, "That's Buford, Alton's brother. He's a nice person, once you get to know him, but he can be a bit of a prat sometimes."

Harry laughed, and Bethany lifted a box from the counter and set it down on the floor next to Harry. The box was labeled 'Glasses,' across the top in black marker. "Harry, would you hand me the glasses from the box so that I can put them in the cupboards?" He nodded, and over the next hour he helped her unpack almost a dozen boxes, including ones filled with forks and spoons, pots, pans, canned food, and a very ornate package of knives. Each time he would hand something to her, Bethany would smile at him, and he could feel a part of his mind tingle in pleasure each time she did. When they had done the last box, she had him help her put together a hanging lamp, and when that was done, the kitchen looked a lot like his Aunt Petunia's, except a lot warmer and friendlier. Bethany ruffled his hair, and he grinned at her, a rosy blush on his face.

"Thanks so much for the help, Harry. You know, I never asked you where you live. How silly of me!" She laughed, a light, tinkling sound, like the wind chimes rattling just outside the front door.

Harry thought that her laugh was even prettier than her smile, and blushed when he realized that he had been standing staring at her for almost twenty seconds. "Er...I, ah, live with my Aunt and Uncle, over at Number 4," he pointed at his relatives' house across the street, where they could both see his Aunt peering out from behind a window curtain at the movers. Harry thought that he could almost see a bit of a frown on her face, but before it registered, Alton entered the room, slightly sweaty from the heat and arms full of groceries, dropping them on the counter and looked around the room.

"Well, now, you two've been a bit busy, haven't you?" He smiled at Bethany, who got up and gave him a peck on the cheek before moving to unpack the groceries. Alton winked at Harry, then went back outside, saying that he had some more in the car. Harry automatically went to help, and Bethany kindly told him where to put various things with another warm smile.

When they were done, Bethany took a bag of lemons that hadn't been put away yet and put them on a cutting board next to the sink. She reached into the drawer where they had put all the knives and picked up a large one, then began slicing the lemons in half. "Would you like some fresh lemonade, Harry?"

"Er, yes, please," he stammered out, blushing again when she smiled at him. He really did like her smiles. It was like every time she smiled at him, he could feel a pleasant little tingling over his scalp, almost like he was being softly caressed by her fingers. He really liked the feeling.

As she made the lemonade, Harry looked around the kitchen, then out the window. Alton's brother, Buford, was staring at him with an odd look on his face. He winked at Harry and gave him a thumbs up, and Harry gave him a small half smile before turning back and watching Bethany finish. She was slicing one lemon when the knife ran in on her finger, causing her to pull back in slight shock. A drop of light pinkish blood dripped to the floor before she gripped her finger, turning and giving Harry a reassuring smile before reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a box of band-aids, wrapping one around her cut.

When she was done with the lemonade, she brought him a glass, and he took a sip, reveling in the cool sweetness of the drink. He gulped down almost half of it before a stab of pain hit him, and he cringed, almost dropping the glass as his hand went up to clutch his forehead in silent agony. Bethany chuckled prettily, rubbing her hand through his hair, and Harry's headache subsided. He gave her an embarrassed smile in return. She really was very nice.

She got up and filled four more glasses with lemonade from a pitcher, and handed Harry two more. "Harry, would you be so kind as to bring these out to the movers? They've been so helpful today, and it's dreadfully hot, don't you think?" Harry nodded and hurried outside to where the movers were returning to work from a brief cigarette break. He handed them to the movers and shyly turned back to watch Bethany bring glasses to her husband and his brother.

She had a brief conversation with them, then turned back to Harry, giving him another dazzling smile and he ran back to follow her into the house. They went to the kitchen, and sat at the table, sipping their lemonades and talking about nothing in particular. After a little while, Bethany spoke again. "Harry, how long have you lived here, in Little Whinging?"

Harry swallowed, thinking. "Well, since I was one. My parents died, and I had to live with my aunt and uncle and cousin." He frowned and looked away, feeling uncomfortable at the change in topic. Bethany's hand rested momentarily on his thin arm, and he felt his discomfort lift. "I've lived there for five years, now," he continued, "and I turned six a month and a half ago."

She nodded, her eyes warm and comforting. Harry could almost feel like she could tell what he was thinking; about how his Aunt and Uncle could barely stand his presence, how Dudley would beat up on him and keep other people from talking to him, how the neighbors all looked at him like he was the same type of trouble maker that Dudley was, though they didn't think of Dudley that way. Harry got nervous; Bethany was the only person on the whole street who was nice to him. Surely, when she started talking to the other neighbors, they'd tell him how he was a no-good troublemaker. He couldn't bare to think of Bethany's warm, kind smile turned into a disgusted frown. The very thought made him feel a little queasy.

Harry fidgeted in his seat, but calmed when he looked up and saw Bethany's serene gaze settle over his eyes. He could almost feel like she was reading his mind, and she smiled reassuringly at him, as though she understood and wouldn't, ever, think those things about him. He smiled in relief, and took another sip of the delicious lemonade.

She stood up, ruffling Harry's hair again. "Harry, you're such a nice boy. I want you to always feel welcome in our house, alright?" Her smile felt almost like a divine blessing, from what little Harry understood from Sunday morning services at the local church. He responded with a wide one of his own, and took another sip of his lemonade.

As soon as lunchtime came around, Harry left, thanking Bethany and Alton profusely for the lemonade. Bethany grinned, and Alton took a five pound note from his wallet and handed it to Harry, shaking his hand in a mature manor and thanking him for helping his wife. Harry tried to look mature, saying that it was nothing, and Bethany laughed another of her tinkling laughs that sent his scalp pleasantly tingling. He ran off back to Number 4, arriving in time to meet the scowl on his Aunt's face.

"Boy, where have you been? It's time to make lunch. Go get the bread, and be quick about it!" She snapped at him, and he hurried to comply. He opened the refrigerator, and pulled out the bread, but a jar of mustard fell and shattered on the tile floor. Harry jumped and his head turned to his aunt, his eyes wide, and she practically growled and wrenched him away from the fallen mustard. "Dammit, boy, look at this mess you've made! We just had the floor cleaned three days ago!" She practically threw him out into the hallway, where Dudley was sleepily descending the stairs, one loud THUMP! at a time.

He smirked as he saw Harry rub his arm in pain from where she had yanked him away from the mess, and smacked him hard on the arm in the same spot, making him cry out in pain. Dudley laughed nastily at him and pushed past him into the kitchen, making him fall over onto the hardwood floor. A few tears leaked out of his eyes, and Harry quietly wiped them away, sniffling silently.

It was times like these that Harry just left the Dursleys' house, and went over to the nearby park, where he would sit on a swing and pretend that he was having fun, and that his parents were sitting on a bench just out of sight, watching him and laughing, and then they could go home together...

Like it? Love it? Hate it? Hate me? Let me know.

DarkSov

P.S. I just figured out how to use the horizontal ruler. Aren't you all proud of me?