Disclaimer: I own nothing below, except the idea of mashing this little lot together like a nerdy girly Calvin Harris. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and the other half of this little tale's characters belong to one Adam Phillips.

The Forest Symphony, First Movement for Strings in E

RUNNERS OF THE NIGHT

In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter had expected to be able to live normally. After all, the year before he'd defeated Lord Voldemort and the Order of the Phoenix had taken care of the majority of the Death Eaters. Amos Diggory, the newly-minted Minister for Magic, had seen to it that they were brought to trial and imprisoned within the walls of a purpose-built prison called Dinas Carreg, a lightless, entirely underground complex sunk deep into Cornish granite, there to suffer a slow and lingering death by Dementor exposure and radiation sickness. At the time, Harry had thought it too kind. For goodness' sake, it was all supposed to be over!

This thought was not exactly comforting as he pounded through the Forbidden Forest, risking the occasional glance over his shoulder as the Death Eater remnants (acting, Harry was sure, under the auspices of the even-now untouchable Lucius Malfoy) and firing off Disarming Spells and the occasional Stunner when he felt he had a clear shot. Branches whipped both him and his pursuers in their faces, a large one almost knocking Harry's glasses from his face and wishing under his breath that he'd superglued them to his face. A sickly green light pulsed past him and smashed into a tree, the wood turning gnarled and rotten as the spell sucked the life force from it. The duck that made the tree able to sacrifice itself for him made the Boy-Who-Lived trip over a tree root and go sprawling into the dirt. This fall in made another spell, this time the grisly flesh tone of a Brain Gobbler Curse, smash into the same tree with a crack of splintering wood. Harry's wand skittered from his hand and he scrabbled towards it, throwing up a quick Protego to deflect the Frostblood Hex sent his way by a giggling, time-ravaged blonde. He scrabbled back, feet giving him purchase as he blasted spell after spell into the Death Eaters. One went down to a mix of an Engorgement Charm and the Bat Bogey Hex Ginny'd taught him, the huge creatures bursting from his sinuses and tearing off a goodly amount of the skin of his face, not to mention the bloody wreck that was his nose. Excellent, he thought, now if I can just fend off the others-

And that was when he heard a voice like black velvet say, scant metres from the side of his head, "Crucio".

White hot pain seared through Harry Potter's already exhausted frame, and a scream ripped itself from him. It was almost childlike, the noise, like the shriek of a little boy who'd lost a precious toy. Lucius Malfoy smiled and bent over him.

"Boy, you have tried the patience of the true believers once too often. It is time for you to know our power, and the folly of your resistance. Crucio!"

Another lance of agony jammed itself into Harry's brain and flooded his body from there. His nerves were on fire, everywhere hurt like the Devil himself was roasting him on a spit. He forced himself not to cry out, but a Skin Tightening Curse from the blonde made him do just that. The curse's power made his skin grow taut against his flesh, and it began to tear and the joints of his body. Wide gashes started to appear almost spontaneously on his hips, knees and elbows, the flesh underneath tearing its way out through the top layer like strippers in a birthday cake. His abused body shook with the magic inside him, destroying his flesh just as surely as it clawed at his mind.

He opened his eyes for a brief second, before they could hurt him again, and saw the big man who had been running with the blonde woman raise his wand.

"Sanguinio Infernaaaaaaargh!"

A green-tinged blur had come out of the forest and crashed into the Death Eater, the impact force sending the man hurtling back and impaling him on a tree. That didn't account for the other two holes in his chest, though. The blonde woman turned and grinned, lashing out at the blur with a variety of Dark curses as it flicked into the air and smashed her to the ground, the splintering noise of her wand echoing those of her ribs scant seconds later. Lucius let off an Avada Kedavra at the blur and leapt skywards, his dead Lord's trick of flight having been taught to his inner circle of minions. The blur shot up through the trees, and as it slowed and gravity took over, Harry Potter saw that it was no man.

This, in hindsight, should really have been obvious.

It had a shaggy coat of green hair covering its legs like the fawns of one of Hermione's fantasy novels, but its face was also covered, though this hair was considerably longer and decidedly more well-kept. The torso was bare and covered in swooping knotwork tattoos that made the skin look like it was flowing beneath them, and atop the head were long, curved horns. The creature seemed familiar somehow, even as it lashed out with a long wooden staff that glowed with runes. It landed and hunched over him, muttering some kind of spell to lift the curses and heal the young man's shattered magical core.

"Who… who are you…" Harry managed after a good couple of minutes. The creature straightened up and spoke, in a voice deeper and yet kinder than those of the centaurs that also inhabited the forest.

"My name is Larieth, Kynsa-del-Kynsa of the Lake Forest Dashkin. And my people are in dire need of a saviour like you."

More of the creatures – Dashkin, Harry corrected himself with a little effort – emerged from the trees, some frail and stick-thin with age and some with braided hair and small, firm, obviously feminine breasts. They were all looking at him with a note of desperate longing, and they were all armed. Before the shock of it all sank in and sent him thumping to the floor, he managed to choke out three words.

"Oh, not again."