Title: Winter Lights
Author: FlippythePenguin
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: AB/lots. HP/JS/A/N
Summary: Anita Blake has encountered several strange police cases over the years, but she has finally come to the strangest case she's ever had. A boy named Harry Potter, devastated from the death of his godfather, has been shoved into her world and in order to solve these murders, it may take the both of them to help save her world- and the magical world as well.
Warning: Slash, super amazing creatures, language, suggestive themes. Remember folks, this is SLASH. Y'know, gay boys. If you don't like it, don't read it. In my opinion love is love. Leave it at that. Also, there is a bit of the 6th year mixed in : I thought it'd be cute to redo the whole Ron/Lavender...thing. SO this chap has something you might recognize, only different.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are property of J. K. Rowling and I am not trying to take any of her millions of dollars. The same applies to all of Laurel Hamilton's characters. The only character I own as of this chapter is Heather.
My beta is the lovely XattilaX-theMONKEY. Go love her :
a/n oh wow thanks for the amazing responses I've gotten : this was a little later than planned, I wound up getting ill so I was forced into bed rest (ughh)
How about we dedicate this chapter to the lovely Daemon. : you know who you are babyface!
Chapter Two: Pressure
That night before dinner, Harry's guilt managed to kick in full-swing. His chat with Remus had been on his mind all day, and Harry decided he'd talk to Hermione after dinner.He felt horrid about the way he had lost his temper like that- he had assumed that he had better control over his emotions, especially since he'd spent all summer working on staying calm.
Actually, he'd spent all summertrying to stay calm, trying to not think about what happened at the Department of Mysteries, trying to pretend that his crucio had worked on Bellatrix LeStrange...
For what it counted, he hadn't lost the handle and destroyed anymore offices.
He sat with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan during dinner, and Hermione sat with Ron. Apparently they were on good terms again. He watched them converse through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.Hermione, of course, appeared to be scolding Ron, and the red-head was looking quite embarrassed. He wondered why, but he didn't want to talk to Hermione until he could talk to her alone.
"You okay, mate?" Seamus asked, slapping Harry on his back.
Startled, Harry choked a moment on his food, before quickly swallowing it. "Yeah," he said dryly. "Thanks for almost killing me." His voice had been laced with sarcasm, but the Irish boy either didn't notice, or he skillfully ignored it.
"Anytime!" Seamus grinned.
Harry rolled his eyes, but looked up when Ginny appeared behind them both, squeezing into the space between Harry and Dean. Her hair was red, and he dimly noted that it wasn't as wild as normal.
"Hello, Harry," Ginny said, looking a bit breathless.
"Hi," he mumbled, puzzled. "What's with your hair?"
Ginny smiled, her face lighting up. "I had Hermione help me use that spell she used on her hair during the Yule Ball. Do you remember that?"
"Yeah," Harry said, remembering the looks Ron had been giving her all night. Her, and Krum, Harry remembered with a grimace. He had thought Ron was going to stun Krum first chance he could get.
"Does it look bad?" Ginny said, but Harry knew that even if he were to say 'no' to the fifth year Gryffindor, that she wouldn't mind anyway. Ginny was very carefree that way.
"I like it," Seamus offered from Harry's other side.
Dean had scotched over more, and Ginny was sitting rather comfortably between Harry and the dark skinned boy. Harry watched with fascination as she leaned over the table to smile at Seamus on Harry's other side, saying "Thanks, Seamus!"
The biggest surprise of all, however, had to be when Ginny rather abruptly turned her head and gave Dean a kiss. Harry gaped at them, as they linked fingers on the table.
Seamus, apparently taking pity on him, started laughing. "You didn't know they've been dating?"
He flushed when Ginny nonchalantly said, "Oh, Harry's oblivious about all things concerning love."
The three all roared with laugher as Harry sulked.
Ginny continued on, "So, Harry, do you like it?"
"You and Dean dating?" Harry said, confused, causing another roar of laughter.
"No, my hair!" Ginny giggled, and Dean leaned around her to smirk at Harry.
"Oh," Harry blushed. "Yeah, it looks nice."
Ginny beamed again, and tossed her straighter hair in his direction. Harry crinkled his nose, reaching up to pull a red strand from his mouth, "Ugh, Ginny! Control that beast!"
Dean laughed, as Ginny mock-punched Harry in his arm while the grinning boy took another bite of his food. Harry was having a good time with the three, and a glance over in the direction of his two best friends clearly indicated that they had noticed.
"Look out," he whispered to Ginny, pushing around his mashed potatoes with his spoon. Ron was standing, his face red once again, but it wasn't in embarrassment this time. Not at all. He had, apparently, noticed that his beloved baby sister was holding hands with Dean.
Ginny glanced over towards where Ron was storming over, a scowling Hermione pleading with him to calm down.
Dean, Harry noticed, looked a bit pale. Seamus chuckled from Harry's other side, and said cheerfully, " Dean, I'd run if I were you,"
"No," Ginny said, her anger making her face red. "I think it's about time I set Ron right!"
With that being said, Ginny climbed away from the benches, her chin set in determination as her brother stalked over.
"Ronald!" Hermione was saying as they got closer. "Leave Ginny's love life alone!"
"She's too young to be dating boys!" Ron was seething.
Harry sat on the bench, pulling his feet up into the Indian position as he watched the drama slowly unfold before him. He wondered if this was like those soap things on the telly that Aunt Petunia was always watching. He remembered sneaking into the living room every now and then for a glimpse of what his relatives were watching, but he also often remembered being caught. He was always punished with more chores, or being locked away into his cupboard for the rest of the day.
"No, it's okay Hermione," Ginny hissed, looking in that moment as menacing as any Death Eater Harry had ever seen. He bit his lip to keep from laughing. The look on Ron's face had been very comical- he'd gone pale: so pale that his freckles stood out like white on black walls.
Ron stuttered, "G-Ginny! You can't date Dean!"
"Why not?" Ginny said, hands on her hips in a position so alike to that of Mrs. Weasley that Harry almost winced. Ron actually did, though. "Dean is friends with you, and with Harry! Hermione has no problems with him either. So why is it that you have problems with me dating him?"
Ron's face was gradually getting color again, the angry red. "That's different! You're too young to date!"
"I'm fifteen!" Ginny cried.
"Actually Ronald, In some cultures, girls are already grandmothers at her age," Hermione added rather curtly from Ron's side, as she moved around him to stand besides Ginny, both girls facing him down.
His mouth opened and closed, before he said, "Well, I don't want you to date anyone!"
"Why?" Ginny sneered. "Because you're just jealous you can't get anyone?"
Even Harry felt his mouth drop open at that. Now that, Harry knew, was low. But he supposed if he was in Ginny's place even he might have wanted to hit Ron below the belt. From his side, he heard Seamus mutter, "Ouch, that's got to hurt."
Ron's face was bright red and he cried out, "That's not true!"
But Ginny was on a roll however, and she took a step forward, pointing at him accusingly, "You're just jealous you haven't snogged anyone before! You're jealous that I've been snogged before, and you haven't!"
Ron's face, if it was possible, was suddenly such a violent red shade that Harry half rose onto one knee. Ron looked ready to faint. "Who have you snogged?!" Ron said, and Harry sank back down. Ron was going overprotective again, in a changing-the-subject way.
But this scene was growing more viewers. Other tables had begun to notice the argument, and conversations were dying down. Some of the teachers were rising to their feet, but Dumbledore was twinkling away behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Oh, please, Ron!" Ginny snorted. "You're more oblivious to love then Harry is!" Which, of course, caused the green eyed boy to go red in embarrassment. "But even Harry's snogged someone! Harry's snogged Cho, Hermione's snogged Krum, and even Neville's been snogged! And you haven't snogged anyone, so you take out all your frustrations on everyone else!"
Ron's face had gone pale again, and he turned to gape at Hermione, "Y-you...Krum?" He stuttered, suddenly seeming incapable of speech.
The girl genius looked uncomfortable for a moment, and turned bright red when Ginny sneered, "Well, what else do you think they were doing on all those walks?"
Ron gaped and swallowed, mumbling something about the common room, and dashed out of the Great Hall.
Ginny looked pleased, as she sat down next to Harry. "That takes care of Ron," She said grimly, and Dean and Harry shot each other a small helpless look.
"I'll go find Ron," a girl giggled, and Harry looked over to see Lavender Brown leave the table.
Hermione stood awkwardly by Harry a moment, and they both looked away from each other. Hermione cleared her throat, and left the Great Hall as well.
By the time Harry had gathered his courage to approach his best friend, it was already late. He stood awkwardly by the doorway to the Gryffindor common room, watching Hermione pack away her books. She had obviously stayed up to finish her potions essay.
Harry hesitated, watching Hermione start for the girls dorms. He made up his mind, calling out, "'Mione!" as he strode into the room quickly.
Hermione looked back at him, her brown eyes wide in surprise. "Harry?" She said, sounded confused. "Why are you up so late?"
"I could ask you the same," He replied, giving her a lopsided grin. "Knowing you, you've been doing homework."
Hermione sank back into the red couch, the fire causing red to glitter about the room. Hermione could almost pass for a Weasley, Harry thought. Watching the fire burn by her definitely showed her 'inner-Weasley'.
The silence in the room had grown, leaving Harry to feel rather awkward. He cursed himself for once again jumping into something before thinking about it. He shuffled his feet a little, letting his foot scruff against the carpet.
Hermione looked hesitant. "Would you like to sit?" She offered softly.
Harry shot her a relieved smile, accompanied by a small nod. He dropped his bag next to the couch, curling his feet up under his chin once more as he gazed at the fireplace with Hermione in an almost comforting silence.
The burning embers caused memories to stir behind Harry's eyelids, and he recalled that once, what seemed long ago, a face had emerged from those red blazes...
"Hermione?" Harry murmured. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you earlier."
The girl shook her head. "No, Harry. Don't worry about it. I should have known that bringing up Sirius would hurt you. I understand that you need more time to open up to us. It wasn't my bus-"
"No, 'Mione," Harry interrupted. "It was your business. You've known Sirius for as long as I have. You were there when he fell through the veil, you were there afterwards with me." Harry rolled his shoulders in a small shrug. "You have every right to hate me, I had no right to yell at you But it would make you happy if you'd forgive me."
She leaned forward, touching his shoulder lightly. "Harry! Of course I forgive you! I was never mad in the first place. I thought you'd want some time to yourself, is all."
Harry grinned, and leaned forward to pull the bushy haired girl in for a hug. "Thanks, 'Mione!"
Hermione smiled, her cheeks a little red. Harry noted this with a mental grin. It was no wonder Ron was in love with the girl, Hermione really was cute. In a weird way. With lots of hair. And lot's of big, fancy words. And lots of other girly things about the girl.
"Have you found out what it is you plan to do over Christmas break? Surely your not going to stay here again!"
Ugh. He'd forgotten one. And lot's of mother henliness. If henliness was even a word. Which he was sure it wasn't.
Deciding to be wise for once in his life, Harry kindly kept these thoughts inside his head. He settled with a nod instead, blurting out, "Remus mentioned one of my parents homes. I think I want to go there."
Hermione looked impressed. "I didn't know the Potter's had a home, after what happened when you were a baby. Where is it?"
"America," Harry told her, leaning against he lightly. He could feel his eyes being to flutter shut a bit. It really was relaxing here, with Hermione. Just the two of them being friends with the heat of the fire warming his skin. The room was warm because of the fire, and Harry enjoyed the heat. It was something he had never had as a child. There wasn't much warmth in his cupboard, after all.
"Is it safe there?" Hermione sounded worried.
"Remus wants me to go. Would he send me somewhere dangerous?"
"Not on purpose, no." Hermione admitted reluctantly. "But, Harry, you don't know anything about Ame-"
The Fat Lady's portrait slammed open, revealing Ron. What startled Harry, however, was that Lavender Brown was quick to follow him in. She gave Ron a brief, wide grin, before heading towards the girl's dormitories. She caught glance of Harry and Hermione, and shot them a bright smile as she tidied up her mused hair.
"Hello, Harry, Hermione. Lovely evening, isn't it?" Lavender beamed, before running up the stairs. "Goodnight, Ronnie!" They all heard her lingering shout.
"Ronnie?" Harry snickered, before turning to look at Hermione. What he saw made him pause. Her face looked pinched. He immediately noted the happy glow had faded away, leaving her pale. "Hermione? Are you okay? Do you feel sick?" Harry said, touching her arm.
Ron was still in the doorway, and with a few quick strides, he flung himself into the chair opposite the couch Harry and Hermione sat upon. His face was bright with excitement.
"Guess what I was doing!" Ron seemed far to smug. Hermione went stiff.
"What?" Harry asked, puzzled.
A huge grin split across his face. "I was snogging with Lavender!"
Of course. Watching Hermione's pale face, Ron and Lavender's late entrance, their disheveled appearances- It should have been obvious. Thinking about what Ginny had said earlier that night at dinner, Harry agreed. He really was oblivious about these sorts of things.
Hermione had stumbled to her feet, grabbing her bag and muttering something about going to sleep before darting up the stirs out of sight. Harry froze. He had caught sight of her tears. Ron was gaping at Harry when he turned his face back towards the excited redhead.
"What's her deal?" Ron asked. "Girls!"
Harry sighed. There really was nothing he could say to Ron- he'd take it the wrong way and get mad for days. Harry hated it when Ron was mad- no matter how good of a friend he was, there really was something frightening about an angry redhead.
"Goodnight, Ron," Harry chose to say.
And Harry left as well.
Three days later found Harry and Ron in their dorm. Ron was currently explaining his undying love for Lavender- or rather, for her lips- for about the hundredth time. Quite frankly, Harry couldn't see what the big deal was with snogging. It had been nice when he and Cho had kissed, but it was too wet. Cho's crying probably hadn't helped it either, but that was besides the point.
What use was snogging anyway?
Harry sighed, and turned to look at the youngest male Weasley, who was staring dreamily at him.
Harry's control slipped. He slammed his trunk shut, causing Ron to jump and stare at Harry. Sarcastically, Harry growled, "Yeah, Ron, keep staring at me like that and maybe I'll magically become Lavender!"
Ron was still gaping at him, his freckles standing out slightly. "Are...are you jealous of me, Harry?" Ron sounded uncertain. "Because you sound it right now."
"No, Ron," Harry grinned. He thought he was jealous? "You and Hermione are the ones that act all jealous. I'm just saying that snogging isn't everything."
Ron looked at Harry, with an expression Harry could easily read as amusement. "Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron sighed. "You have a lot to learn, mate."
Harry regarded Ron a moment in astonishment, and said, "Apparently, snogging has given you a big ego."
Scowling, Ron smacked Harry across the face with a pillow while the raven haired boy snickered. "Shut it, Harry!" but he was laughing as well. "Have a good Christmas, alright? I'll send our gifts with Hedwig." the owl was remaining at Hogwarts for the break.
Harry nodded, "Right. Make sure you send my love to your mum and dad for me."
Ron nodded, clapped Harry on the back, and left the room as Remus stepped in. Remus squinted at Harry around the four post bed, and a wolfish grin spread across his former Professor's face.
"You ready, Harry?" Remus questioned.
Suddenly feeling rather anxious, Harry nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
An eyebrow rose at that, and Harry found himself smiling sheepishly. Remus looked rather amused, and cleared his throat.
"Let's get up to Dumbledore's office, shall we?" Remus smiled gently, and Harry nodded. He went to pick up his bags, and Remus shook his head.
"The house elves will bring them to the house while we have a chat with the Headmaster." Remus explained at Harry's puzzled expression.
"Ah," Harry murmured. "Hermione would throw a fit."
"Probably," Remus agreed, as they left the dorm and the common room.
They walked through the halls of Hogwarts in relative silence, broken only by their breathing and footsteps. Through the windows, Harry could see the snow falling down, and he almost smiled at the sight. He'd always liked the snow, it was quite something to see.
Dazed, Harry stared at the gargoyle that protected Dumbledore's office. It was finally hitting him. He was going to be going to a house, a house that his parents bought. A house that they had, maybe, at some point lived in. Remus had obviously been there before, if the way he knew about it was any indication.
He was actually feeling nervous.
As they both entered Dumbledore's office, Harry was almost pleased to see that the room was no longer in ruins. Harry had made a big deal of staying as far from Dumbledore as possible the past month he'd been back at Hogwarts, his shame at what had happened very great.
Dumbledore was standing next to Fawkes, smiling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Ah, Harry," He greeted, eyes twinkling. "Remus."
"Headmaster." Harry replied.
Dumbledore moved closer, sweeping an arm out towards the fireplace to his left. "Is everything in order, then?" He asked.
Remus nodded. "I'm going to escort Harry to his home, and I will remain there until later tonight. "
"Good, good!" Dumbledore twinkled. "Now, Harry. If you ever have any problems, or wish to return before the end of the week, fire call us! Or just floo back."
Harry nodded meekly. "Yes, Headmaster."
The twinkle dimmed a bit in the old man's eyes, and blue eyes regarded Harry full of sadness. "Dear boy, you must not blame yourself for what happened last year. I place no blame on you. Besides, I have more then enough belongings."
Almost scowling, Harry snapped, "Can I go now?"
"Of course," Dumbledore agreed. "Remus?"
The werewolf nodded, and said, "Come along, Harry." as he approached the fireplace. Throwing in floo, he shouted, "Potter's Place, St Louis!" He disappeared into green flames.
Sighing, Harry followed behind him, saying the same as his werewolf mentor, and the last sight he saw of Hogwarts was the sad smile on his Headmasters face.
Harry dimly realized his eyes were closed when he heard Remus chuckle and say, "Harry? We've arrived."
The house was, to say the least, incredible.
"Wow," Harry breathed, spinning in a circle to take in as much of the sight as he could. The fireplace Remus and Harry had come flying out of was beautiful, with black stones. The floor of the room was wood, and Harry eagerly trotted down the first hall he found, with Remus following behind him, chuckling.
The room connected to the living room was a large kitchen. There was an island, with marble counters. A small table sat towards one side of the room, large windows revealing a snowy garden in the backyard.
Harry stared out the window a moment, before bounding off again.
He and Remus went through several rooms, Remus murmuring a tale or two about certain objects or paintings that lines the walls. They went through about five different bedrooms before Harry found one he liked.
The walls were dark green, and the bedspread was black with silver lining. He thought the room was a bit Slytherin, but something about the room really drew him in. He stood there, in the center of the room looking out the windows the revealed a descent sized front lawn with a small black fence between the sidewalks and his grass, and he smiled.
Remus poked his head into the room, and said, "Is this the room you've chosen?"
Harry turned, and looked at Remus with a bright face. "Yeah," he grinned. "Isn't it grand?"
Remus nodded, looking puzzled. "Odd, really."
"Odd?" Harry repeated, an eyebrow raised.
Remus' eyes slid over to Harry, looking amused. "This room your mother decorated herself. She told your father, Sirius and I once 'This will be Harry's room when we come to visit Petunia and Vernon. He will love this room.' Of course, the rest of us put it off as foolishness." Remus paused. "You truly like this room?"
"Truly," Harry said and smiled. No wonder he had loved it- his mother had made it for him.
Remus grinned back at the beaming boy. "Shall we go have a cup of tea before I return to Hogwarts?"
Harry looked up, dismayed. He had forgotten that Remus was remaining at Hogwarts. "Wont you be lonely?" Harry asked. "Your welcome to stay with me."
Remus chuckled. "I'll be fine, Harry. I have Albus and the other Professors there."
"Oh," Harry said, and together they went to have tea.
While Remus brewed the tea, Harry sat on one of the black couches in his living room, smiling as he thought over how lucky he was to have such freedom. No professors, no expectations, just Harry.
No wonder Hermione was so worried. Harry had to stifle a laugh at the thought of Hermione face.
Remus returned with their tea, and Harry eagerly drank it down.
Remus was watching him, with a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Harry gave him a curious look, and Remus cleared his throat. "Would you like to hear some stories about my time in Hogwarts?"
Harry nodded eagerly, and curled up on the couch.
"Once, when we were in third year, Sirius had the grand idea to set thirteen black cats on Severus on Halloween night..."
They spent the rest of the day in laughter and memories, and when it came time for Remus to go, Harry found himself rather disappointed. He had never really connected well with adults as a child, or even as a teenager, and his talks with Remus truly made him feel loads better.
Remus was slipping on his cloak, and had the floo powder in hand as he stood before the fire. He threw the floo in, and Harry watched him with sad eyes as Remus stepped into the green flames
"Harry," Remus said, his eyes twinkling and reminding Harry ultimately of Dumbledore. "If I were you, I'd search the house for a certain portrait."
Harry stared at him in mystification as Remus disappeared with a shout of "Hogwarts!" Rolling his eyes, Harry returned to his position on the couch, curling up for a little nap.
The next morning, Harry decided he wanted to look around the city he was currently in. He knew it to be St. Louis, but besides that small bit of information, he did not really know much else.
So he gathered up his wits and he put on his muggle clothes- which were a bit over sized, except for the jeans that Hermione had given him over the summer- and he went exploring.
He walked up the small path in his yard, shivering slightly against the cold of the winter chill. He noticed the brightly strung lights that hung from houses and tress. There were a lot of blow up Santa's and Rudolph's, and they made him crack a grin. Small children playing in their yards greeted their neighbor as he passed, and Harry was quite determined to find himself somewhere peaceful.
He found himself into the city after a good half hour of peaceful strolling. The city was marvelous, and the shops were even grander. He lingered in the doorway of a small bookshop, before entering it. He browsed around the novels that littered the walls, and caught sight of a rather queer book title.
"Lycanthropy, Vampires, and other creatures," He muttered the title under his breath. He immediately thought of Remus, and continued on.
Somehow he managed to find himself lost.
He strolled down the street, and the feeling hit him rather suddenly. It felt like nothing he had ever felt before. He knew what Remus' magic felt like- a brush on his face like fingers reaching out to brush away tears, or to smudge away dirt- and the magic that was touching him now was almost making him sneeze.
He peered up into the building that was bright with lights on the dimming day and evening began to brew in the distance. "Animators, Inc," Harry read, perplexed. Using his gut instinct, he continued on.
He found himself this time at a small park, that still had a couple swings set up. Apparently, the city had not yet taken them down even though it was mostly too cold to be playing on the swings.
Harry sat on it, delighting in the simple joys of pumping up and down with the ground under his feet. It was like flying- only unlike having complete freedom of the skies, it was like he was being held back. Even so, he liked the feeling.
Harry sat there, swinging and swinging, until the night had fallen and the skies were no longer bruised purple far above. With the arrival of the night, the air had become colder than before, and his face was stinging and his breath was showing in front of his face.
Just as he'd decided he'd had enough exploring for one day- after all, Christmas was only in three more days, and he needed to wrap up the gifts he'd bought last time he'd been to Hogsmeade- he heard a curious sound. It was almost a growl from a cat, only it was much louder.
Feeling utterly ridiculous, he said, "Crookshanks?"
From out of the darkness, two large brown glowing eyes peered out at him, and the next instant he was tackled off of the swing by what he at first thought was a mini horse.
"Merlin!" He shouted, as he felt teeth tear into his arm. He managed to shake the cat loose, but as the cat bounded off into the darkness, he couldn't help but get that quirky dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach that something had happened that he wasn't going to like.
Which, for once, had nothing to do with Voldemort.
The next morning, Harry was definitely worried that something wasn't right. He had cleaned the cut the night before, but even now his arm still stung as if the teeth were still embedded into his skin.
He sat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling bitterly. How could these things always happen to him?
Remus was one fire call away, but Harry was reluctant to call the werewolf. It was Harry's problem, after all. Besides, how could he prove that he could be trusted with his own safety if he showed up with a large bite that for some reason was causing his magic to shift under his skin weirdly.
Harry groaned, and shouted, "Merlin, it would be easier if I knew where to go to help!"
It was as if his prayers were answered in some weird other worldly way, but thinking about it, Harry realized that his whole life was rather other worldly.
Somehow, he had Apparated into what appeared to be a rather normal house.
Of course, what wasn't normal was that he had obviously just Apparated into a house in front of a muggle, who was sitting on the couch with a gun laying next to her. The woman was staring up at him, her mouth open.
Harry gaped at the equally shocked woman. They were both frozen, as if someone had clicked the pause button. Both, apparently, caught themselves as Harry reflexively began to reach for his wand in his back pocket. Faster then anybody he had ever seen- even himself, and he'd prided himself on his speed as a child- the woman had twisted away and he found himself with a gun between his eyes.
Harry was shaking as he slowly rose his hands into the air. His wand was tucked into his jeans pocket and un-doubtfully the woman would blow out his brains if his fingers even twitched. Besides that, it was his first time actually seeing a gun up close. Uncle Vernon had once held out a gun when he was 11, that first night he met Hagrid, but that was the only time.
Of course, in primary school he had seen paintings and drawings in books but that was as far as his knowledge went. After all, wizards had no need to guns- not when they had magic.
"Who the fuck are you?" The woman hissed through clenched teeth. "And why the fuck are you in my fucking home?"
"Harry," He replied, his voice shaking. Merlin, it was times like these he wished he knew how to get ahold of muggle police, or even some Aurors.
Holding the gun in one hand, the woman reached into her coat pocket and held up a badge in his face.
"I'm a Federal Marsh, kid," She said. Harry almost reeled back in shock. She was a cop. Well, bloody hell. There went that idea.
"So you'd better start talking I just got home from a murder scene, and I'm tired and I want to shower and go to bed. If you don't talk now, I can always get answers from your bloody corpse!" Her eyes were serious.
And, he noticed, quite pretty.
Of course, considering he was weaponless with a gun pointed between his eyes, he really shouldn't have been noticing pointless details like how pretty she was. Her hair was dark, and it was pulled up into a messy ponytail. Her face was determined, and obviously pissed. She had a small stature, but Harry noticed in disgust that he was even smaller.
Altogether however, she reminded him immensely of Hermione and he suddenly realized how much he wished that the brown haired genius was there with him. She'd know how to get him out of this mess, she knew everything.
"My name is Harry, ma'am," he said softly.
Her face was set in stone. "Tell me why the fuck you're in my house."
"I-I wanted to find someone to help me, and I wound up here," Harry quietly told her. It was, however, partially the truth. He just didn't tell her how he got there.
Harry, however, felt his body begin to shake terribly. It was like nothing that had happened before. He hadn't even trembled so much in Voldemort's presence, let alone to some muggle. In the back of his mind, he could hear a darker part of himself almost laugh, whispering the names of his relatives, before he squashed it away.
"Please, miss," Harry whispered desperately, "Why can't I stop shaking?"
The woman looked startled for a moment, and peered at him from behind her gun. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she lowered the weapon slightly, her eyes studying him closely.
"You're a were-leopard?" She asked, but she sounded all too sure of herself. "I would guess it's because my gun has silver bullets."
Harry flinched, thinking of Remus for a moment. Then his mind connected onto what she said, and he shot ramrod straight, and wound up with a face full of gun once more. "I'm not a werewolf!" He protested, his voice loud and indignant.
The woman snorted, "I never said you were, kid." She rolled her eyes.
Harry took the opportunity. He dashed for the door, the years of running from Dudley and his gang taking over his instincts as he clambered down the stairs towards the front door.
A shot went off behind him and he involuntarily whimpered as the bullet soared overhead and into the wall near the door.
The woman had her gun pointed at him as she raced down the stairs, and in a panic, Harry went to open the door.
It seemed that fate was once again against him, however, as the door slammed open and into Harry's ribs, knocking the breath out of him. Dazed, Harry could only stand in shock as several men piled in through the door. Gathering his wits, Harry tried to dart out the door as the woman reached the last step behind him, but one short blonde man caught Harry around his waist.
"Hey! Slow down a bit!" The man laughed, easily shifting Harry over his shoulder, so that Harry could see several curious faces peering at him from his outdoor freedom.
"Hold him, Jason!" He heard the woman roar as Harry thrashed wildly, clipping the man- Jason, he assumed- on his neck. To his surprise, the man moaned. Startled, Harry froze.
"Jesus," Jason said, and Harry could hear the grin in his voice, "Do that again, would you?" Harry squeezed his eyes tightly together, as his mind went into overload, his nerves practically screaming 'oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.'
"Don't molest him, Jason. He's terrified," another voice said and Harry's eyes reopened, and watched another man enter through the door. Jason was heading up the stairs that Harry had just bolted down, and Harry watched his escape get farther and farther away.
They entered a room that looked a lot like a living room, or a den or sorts. He recognized it to be the room he had first seen the woman in.
The man that had spoken was actually very pretty, almost girly. Harry was uneasy to admit that he thought a man was pretty, so he shoved it into a far corner of his mind. His hair was long, auburn in color, and it was in a braid that reached the floor. Lilac eyes watched him curiously. Harry peeled his eyes away, almost blushing, when he realized the man was dressed in only jeans.
"Bring him into the kitchen," The woman ordered from somewhere up above.
"Sure, sure, Anita," Jason joked. "Since when have you started picking up minors?"
The woman, Anita, glared at him as Jason passed her. "He's a were-leopard!" she hissed. "A new one! And he was in my house!" They had, apparently, found the kitchen because Jason stopped moving.
The violet eyed man stepped closer to Harry, and Harry got an eyeful of bare chest. Red found a home in his face until the man bent down so they were eye-to-eye. "How long have you been a were-leopard?" The man questioned.
Stubbornly, Harry closed his eyes to avoid eye contact with the beautiful stranger. The position on Jason's shoulders wasn't very comfortable, and Harry found himself hoping the man would just put him down! A smack on his bum forced Harry's eyes wide open, and a startled yelp from his throat. He struggled again to get down as laughter rang around the room.
The laughter in the room clearly indicated that there was more people there than he had seen.
"Let me down!" Harry growled, mortified.
"You're sounding more like a were!" Jason said cheerfully.
"Hold him," Anita ordered, marching into Harry's vision and towards a counter where a phone rested. "I'm going to call Micah, and find out what he knows."
As she went to pick up the phone, Harry heard the front door open in a quiet manner. Apparently, the others heard as well, because the room went completely silent. Inadvertently, Harry felt himself calm down.
He heard two pairs of footsteps and two men entered the room. One was only slightly taller then Harry, with wavy brown hair, that was almost long in style. His eyes were what caught Harry's attention, though. They looked like cat eyes, yellow in color. Or maybe it was green. He couldn't tell for sure, not from his distance.
The other man was taller then the first man, with dark brown curls and his skin was almost as dark as his hair. Harry swore he could see a piercing on his eyebrow. He looked uncomfortable. Harry wondered why.
"Micah! Caleb?" Anita said, looking startled.
"Anita," The short one greeted. The other man, with the dark skin, was staring at the kitchen floor in shame.
Anita was frowning, "Caleb? What's going on?" It was obviously directed at the man that looked ready to cry or something.
Micah- at least, Harry assumed it was him- looked at Caleb a moment. His cat-eyes drifted towards Harry's still form on Jason's shoulder, and the moment their eyes met, he said quietly, "Jason, let him go."
Jason obeyed immediately, and Harry found himself practically cowering before the small man with the cat-eyes. For some reason, he wanted to fall down for the man. He hated the feeling. Micah motioned for Harry to come closer, and Harry eagerly complied. Micah tipped Harry's head up, so the slightly shorter boy met his eyes. Micah slowly reached forward, brushing away the fringe on Harry's forehead, revealing his lightning shaped scar. Harry heard several sharp intakes of breath from around the room, and he could feel a blush rising over his face in embarrassment.
"What happened to your forehead?" Micah asked softly, but Harry recognized it as an order.
"Got it the night my Mum and Dad died," Harry muttered.
The room was completely silent for about five seconds.
"Aw, he's British!" Jason said, grinning. "Is it true that Brits drink tea all the time?" A blonde woman standing next to him cuffed him over the head.
Micah's eyes were on Anita when Harry let himself look up again. Anita was scowling, even as Micah quietly announced, "Caleb has some explaining to do."
All eyes shifted towards the dark skinned man, and he approached Harry slowly. Harry stared at the man, confused. Something about him seemed almost familiar, in a creepy sort of way. When his eyes met his, Harry stared at him. He had seen those eyes before, somewhere...
Caleb broke eye contact first, staring down at his feet as he muttered, "I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to infect you."
Harry stared at the man, confused. "I don't understand?" Harry said blankly, even as an uproar went around the room.
"You infected a kid?" The blonde woman shouted, looking stunned. "How could you ruin his life like that?!"
Caleb refused to look up. Harry looked around the room, wildly. "I don't understand," he repeated. "Are you saying I'm a werewolf?"
Anita was the only one that appeared in control. Well, her and Micah, who was staring at Caleb with an unfathomable expression on his face.
"You're a wereleopard, kid." She told him.
Harry stared at her, suddenly feeling very confident as he replied, "No, there's no such thing as were's except for werewolves."
He caught the attention of several people, who all looked confused. The blonde woman stepped forward and asked, her voice sounding curious, "Do you mean to say that you know about werewolves but nothing else?"
"Cherry," the man that stood behind her said.
Harry frowned, and answered quietly, "One of my teachers is a werewolf. He and my father were friends."
Micah spoke up, "What pack is he of?"
Harry looked puzzled. "Pack? What pack?"
Jason rocketed forwards, grabbing his arm. "He doesn't have a pack?" He looked horrified. "He doesn't have an Ulfric?"
"A what?" Harry asked, confused. Had Remus ever mentioned a Ulfie thing before? Harry was quite sure he hadn't- he would have remembered something that weird sounding. It sounded like something impressive, something important. He would have remembered it. According to the shocked looks on their faces, it was important.
Harry turned slightly to look at Anita, putting his back to the others.
Anita had flung herself into one of the kitchen chairs, and Micah approached her quietly, lightly touching her arm. The auburn haired man walked closer to Harry. Was that pity in his eyes? Harry suddenly wanted to hex something.
Wait. His wand!
Harry's hand crept around his back, towards his back pocket. His hand was almost on his wand just as Jason said, "What's that sticking out of your pants?" And his wand was in the grasp of the blonde man.
Harry spun around to glare at Jason as the handsome man tossed his wand around in the air. "Give me back my wand!" Harry snarled, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Anita jump to her feet, looking panicked.
A wicked grin was plastered across Jason's face. "Hey Anita, I'm playing with..." He paused. "What's his name?"
"Harry," she said in a strained voice. "And don't you dare finish what I think you're planning on saying!"
"Yes, well, I'm playing with Harry's wand." He smirked at Anita and leered at Harry, who flushed.
How could this guy be so, well, vulgar! Besides, Harry was a boy! Boys weren't allowed to say stuff like that to other boys! Uncle Vernon had been very crude about gay men when Harry was growing up, installing in Harry's mind that if Harry ever was a "fag" that Harry would be beaten until he was dead.
Hadn't all kids got told that?
One of the glasses on the table smashed.
The auburn haired man jumped away from Harry, saying, "It wasn't me, Anita! I swear!"
"Of course not," Anita snapped. "Jason, give me his wand!"
"It was Harry who did it," Micah's voice drifted over everybody, and they all turned their attention to the now blushing wizard.
Shit! Harry half expected someone to shoot him dead, just like in those old cowboy movies Dudley loved watching when they were kids. Anita had her gun pulled out on him once again.
" I didn't mean to," He mumbled. Why did these things always happen to him?
"You're a witch aren't you?" She said.
Startled, Harry turned to look at the woman with amazement, "You know about magic?" He whispered, his eyes wide. How could she know about magic? It hit him rather suddenly though. Obviously she'd know about magic, it was obvious that almost everyone in this room was a werewolf. He could feel their magic on his skin the way he could feel Remus'.
Anita said, "We had a case about six months ago that involved a girl that was almost beaten to death. She was completely healed, except for a finger that was cut off. She admitted that she was one of Britain's witches."
A missing finger? Where had he seen that before?
"Delilah?" Harry breathed, and Anita's eyes zeroed in on his face.
"You know Heather?" She asked.
Harry shook his head, stunned. How could fate be so cruel, he wondered. Making babies grow up unloved, girls grow up surrounded by people who hate her, having girls have their fingers almost cut off by murderers... It wasn't fair.
"We go to school together," Harry mumbled.
"Are you friends?" Anita asked.
Harry gave a little shrug. "I just met her before I came here."
"That has to suck," Jason said. "You just got here and now you're a wereleopard."
Harry turned to glare at the man, and the lights overhead flickered slightly. "I already told you, I don't know what you mean by leopard!"
Micah stepped forward once more, and Harry was struck be the feeling that maybe this man was their leader of sorts. It seemed as if most of the people in the room gravitated towards him, as if he was their God of sorts.
"A wereleopard is what you are, Harry," The man said, his voice soothing. "We are similar to werewolves, only instead of shifting into wolves, we shift into leopards."
Harry stared at him, searching for a joke. He turned to look at Anita, knowing straight away that she wasn't the type to play a practical joke on him, or anyone really. Just from their small meeting, he could tell she had a 'act first, think later' personality.
Anita looked deadly serious. "Micah is the leader of the wereleopards. Our pard-"
"Pard?" Harry interrupted. "And didn't you just say Micah was the leader? So why are you saying 'our'?"
Jason snickered, and Harry turned and looked- really looked, this time- at the man. He was slim, and probably muscular. His hair was corn silk blonde, and Harry noticed immediately he had no facial hair. His eyes were blue, like the sparkling blue of a summer sky on a cloudless day.
"Anita and Micah are lovers, my dear little Brit. Anita is the second in command of the pard."
Harry struggled with an answer. "Oh."
Micah was staring at Harry when he turned back around. A frown marred his handsome features. "Harry? Do you understand what we're telling you?"
Harry shrugged, carelessly saying, "Well, it doesn't really matter. When I go home, we have medicine I can take."
The woman with the blonde hair jerked him around, shaking him harshly. "You can cure us?" She said, sounding shocked.
Disoriented, Harry pushed her away from him. "No, we just have medicines."
Cherry backed away, back to the man.
Jason shook his head, not looking very impressed. "Jesus, Cherry. You almost knocked the poor kid out!" He turned to look at her, grinning. Harry could see his wand, sitting uselessly in the blonde's hand, and he snapped forward, reaching for it.
Jason pulled away, looking startled. "Calm down, kid," he said, as Harry tried to reach for the wand Jason held out of reach. "If you don't back down, I'll knock you out!"
Harry snarled at the man, and he could see Anita drawing her gun. "Try it, werewolf."
Jason didn't need to. The gun smashed somewhere against his skull, and Harry fell into the waiting darkness that loomed ahead of him.