We will become one…we are Kindred….

Freak Boy opened his eyes and saw nothing. He yawned; it was the third morning of his time spent in the National Park after the Dursley conveniently forgot about him. Not that the little three years old know, merely that they forgot about him. He sniffled as wondered about the Park, looking for familiar faces but all he saw was tall trees and foliage so thick that the Park seemed to be of eternal night. For some reason, he just couldn't find the forest trail where the camps were supposed to be.

He can't even remember why he had gotten lost in the first place…oh wait…he was looking for a place to do his 'toilet business'. On the first day he had screamed his throat raw for his relatives, on the second day he had gotten desperate and had moved from the where they had left him, trying to find his way back to the campsite. Now…he was…too tired. He doesn't know if he can eat the plants around him and he did hear from the telly when Aunt Petunia turned on the Discovery Channel, which only happened when neither Dudley nor Uncle Vernon was home, about poison mushrooms. He has been looking for water but even that elude him. Why wasn't he surprised by that? It was summer after all and the very air was boiling with humidity.

He sighed as he walked his feet raw; his shoes had become so sodden from the morning dew since it was boat-sized when compared to his very small feet that he might as well walk barefooted. Luckily last night it rained but although it sooth his parched throat and hungry belly it does nothing for the condition of his clothes and especially Dudley's cast off sneakers.

And now because of last night downpour, Freak has started to feel the tell-tale signs of fever creeping up on him. Night was freezing cold and morning was burning with heat. With no cover other than tree roots and nothing to keep him warm, he was running ragged emotionally and physically. By evening, he came across a wide white water river. He had dropped to his knees and drank as much as possible, washing his tortured skin from bug bites and itchiness. Then he laid down there, wondering just what will happen to him. He didn't know the logic of following the river until he found civilization; he didn't know anything about surviving bareback in the forest. He's just three years old boy left to fend for himself in the depth of wilderness.

Fever crept in on him and he felt too tired and too worn out to move. At least hear by the river he can drink. If he moves he won't know if he'll find the river anymore. So he lay there, hoping for someone to find him. He started crying again but he didn't want to cry! He's just tired and frustrated! So he did like any other kid his age when frustrated and scared; he cry.

Freak didn't know how long it was that he allowed his emotion to run him dry but when he next became aware of his surrounding, it was dark. He sighed and shivered. His cloth still wet in some area and he has nothing else to cover himself with. He didn't want to take it off because then the bugs will get to him. His skin was red and raw and bleeding, his temperature climbing and falling irregularly.

At some point, Freak was sure he will die…

He can't go on anymore….he's tired and scared and he just wanted it all to stop…

A quiet voice asked, "Do you really wish for it to stop?"

Freak blinked and saw a pale man with dark hair waiting above the white water, looking at him with one black eye. He wore a black shroud over him but Freak thought that it looked like shadows. The man speaks again, "Come across then, child. End it all at your own terms…"

Freak gasped and blinked tiredly as he forced his dried throat to answer, "I'm sorry…too tired…" He tried to move but the three days of without food, not to mention that he was punished for the last week for something that he does not understand and that punishment consisted of no food and a glass of water before the camping fiasco, his body was suffering. He was used to days without food though but the elements of being outside without proper covering and bare necessities to live in the forest was slowly killing the poor child.

The pale man closed the distance between them but still float above the white water that seemed to move even angrier than it was this morning. He gestured one skeletal hand toward the child, "Just a little…come forward. You may crawl if you wish. The water will embrace you like a mother…then it will all be over…"

Freak blinked and tried to do as he was told. Something in his mind told him not to but from his own experience, if he said 'no' he will be beaten and his punishment will be harsher than the withholding of food. So he forced his body to move. The man watched the little boy, too little and too thin and he felt that through death, the boy will be spared anymore cruelty. One small hand crawled into the freezing water and slipped from the loose rocks under the rushing water. That loss of momentum was enough for the boy to fully slip into the freezing rapid water.

The boy did not struggled, did not fight. He watched on and followed as the small, almost skeletal body was swept away. He waited for the life to be snuffed out. Then just as the small child slipped under water, he waited when the head bobbed up and gasped, wide green eyes stared at him and the child grabbed for dear life on one of the driftwoods trapped between boulders. He stared at the pale floating man. He was shivering and his lips blue and chapped.

The man asked, "Why do you cling onto the wood? Let it go, let it all go and will end soon. Just a little bit more…" For a little way away from the spot the child cling was the waterfall. Teeth chattering he stared at the pale man and with the whimsical tendency of a child, he asked, "Are-are you-gasp-lo-lone-lonely?"

The pale man froze and floated away. No one has ever asked him that…no one but the Third Brother who had greeted him like a long lost friend. He stared at the child below, shivering and dying from fatigue and chill. His organs were shutting down one by one and he was losing conscious. He blinked his one good eye and the Third Brother's face overlapped with the boy's.

One skeletal hand with a missing bone reached out but the boy slipped under, his hand no longer have the strength to fight the unrelenting merciless current of the white water rapid. He was swept away and the man gasped. For the first time, he did not wish to crush the light of the living and this was not because of pity or because of his endless loneliness but simply because…the child deserve to live. So he floated higher to search for a small head to break the surface of the chilling watery embrace.

There!

He dove down and grabbed the child just as his body was plummeting down the waterfall. He gasped in relief but then noticed how the child spasm for being held close to him. He felt his loneliness choking him. He wasn't one to give life; he was one to take it away. Soon, as he floated to the pebbled beach of the earth around the waterfall, he felt the child's light slipped away.

For the first time in a long time, he hated himself. He touched the child's frozen cheek and watched as the skin that was touched by his skeletal fingers turned dark and starting to rot. He pulled away and he wailed, cursing and cried for a life so soon taken. He did not know why he behaved such, it was simply not him. To him, to take a life was as natural as breathing so why this one life stolen disturbed him so much?

He lingered around the cold body, post mortem catching up. He dare not touch for fear of speeding up the process of rotting. But he refused to accept this death. Confused and disturbed, he wondered and wondered the reason why. Then as dawn broke the East horizon, it dawned upon him. The child was the first to notice his loneliness.

A child…concerned for him; Death?

It was unheard of!

But it was what happened…he looked into the heaven and started to wished and begged…this was not him sparing the child. He knew he could not do that. But the boy has met his demise but he deserved another chance. So Death prayed to the One.

"In exchange, what will you give? You are not of life, so it could not be a life for a life. If you die, he will take your place…"

Death could not do that to the child…the path of Death was one of loneliness and eternal emptiness. He begged for a different choice…

"Gather your Hallows, Death. He will have what you wanted but you will be his slave for all eternity… And he…he will be the Observer, eternally alone in his path, neither dead nor alive; a curse to all, a curse to you, a curse to him. He shall live and he shall be of your flesh… So gather your Hallows, gather your Hallows and fused it to him…you will be his shadow, forever tied and anchored. Kindred…"

We will become one…we are Kindred…