Chapter 2
Disclaimer: (which I forgot to mention before- sorry!) I do not and never will own the rights to Harry Potter, Twilight or anything else I sporadically mention in my writing.
Harry glanced around his room. It was lightly furnished in a hunter- lodge style that seemed to be popular here.
He was staying on top of a local restaurant that had the odd room free for those who went here for fishing or hiking holidays 'or those who like the rain' he mused to himself.
So far what he had seen of Forks in the past few days (admittedly not much just the room he was staying in, the restaurant and occasional glimpses out of the taxi cab window) reminded him of Skelwith (the trees) -a small village in the lake district- where he had stayed a for a day during the crazy horcrux hunt or 'road trip round Britain' as he liked to call it.
Really the town (Forks not Skelwith) itself was rather quaint at least that was the general impression he got. He supposed this was for the tourists really and that the people were friendly towards him, but he knew as soon as he got into the High school he would be an oddity, a freak as much as he hated the word and all that it represented.
He knew he wasn't going to fit in or at best be stared at for a while-he could deal with stares. For starters he was new, secondly he was still twitchy from the war -for example loud noises, thirdly he was living alone knowing no one here and finally he was a wizard and it was known (at least to him) that although muggles didn't have magic, they did almost have a sixth sense that seemed to almost tell something was slightly...off about him.
Anyway back to Forks, he had an appointment to go to see an estate agent about what houses were available in the area, then he had a few hours later he was going to sign up for driving lessons at the local driving school (he was getting their by Sirius' bike) in Port Angeles since honestly he really wanted to learn to drive (and buy) a car that he could use.
His reasoning was that not only would he fit in more and be slightly cooler (in his own mind) but also he wouldn't get soaked every time he had to get outside.
The meeting with the estate agent was interesting.
At first the lady serving him thought it was a joke, then asked him where and who his parents were. She also told him he was too young and therefore did not have money. Finally she told him he should 'go home and stop wasting my time, or I'll call the police'
Sadly that was only within the first 2 minutes of meeting the estate agent.
Now Harry wasn't really an angry person... anymore.
The reality he had seen in the war what anger did to you firsthand. He clearly remembered how he had wanted to kill Bellatrix and make her feel his pain and more...make her suffer for killing Sirius.
He paused in his morbid thoughts as time-induced dull-feelings of the past washed through him as a reminder of the grief, pain, anger and hatred he had felt and occasionally still felt haunting his memories, dreams and nightmares constantly.
He opened his eyes wearily like an old man after being questioned why he had done something wrong in his past. He hadn't realised he had closed them, and so he scolded himself for letting down his guard and leaving himself vulnerable.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as he focused on the tingly feeling of his magic on his skin and the surrounding area (it felt a bit like pins and needles but more ticklish than prickly) and quickly and efficiently of someone who has many times before brought his magic into himself avoiding doing accidental magic.
To trained wizards accidental magic was rather embarrassing- a bit like wetting yourself, as at that point you should be able to control your own magic. Unfortunately for Harry, once the Horcrux was 'removed' shall we say. Harry increased dramatically on the power scalings in the fact that the magic keeping Voldermort's soul at bay. Well now it had nothing to do, so as well as gaining both magic from the link and a about half of Voldermort's magic..altogether it was quite a lot to get used to.
Blinking himself out of yet another mind wander he paused as he saw the estate lady staring and analysing him, he was a little freaked out but hoped he would pass whatever test the lady had mentally set for him as he prayed to whatever god that would listen that he would pass.
Meanwhile (from estate agent's POV)
She looked at her customer in more detail now, despising the fact that this obvious hooligan was still in her office.
He (she hadn't asked his name) looked around 15/16 due to his structure. He was slightly to short and yet still quite lanky. His frame and posture however told another story. His body was in a slight crouch as if to pounce on unsuspecting prey or flee in the next second. He had a grace of a dancer as well as a natural flexibility and balance (whether natural or from practice) honed to the most possible perfection.
Yet his face and jaw contradicted everything his lean body spoke of. They were strong and defined with slightly higher cheekbones for a man. His chiseled features and sporadic scars etched into his golden hue, spoke of someone who had a hard life and endured it but also it captured a strange rugged beauty of which the boy- no man- in front of her probably didn't even realise he had.
It was to think that it was his face that made him look like a fighter but his dirty blonde hair was messy like one of a childes and made him look like a teenager who was a little wet behind the ears if you know what I mean.
The last I noticed and was immediately drawn to was his (recently opened) emerald eyes. To be honest the emotions lurking in the depths there both scared and humbled me. They were hardened of one who had seen to much, had seen loved ones die brutally, usually found prominently in 80 year old war veterans. But it contrasted the warmth in the jaded depths (even if their was a touch of irritation in them at this point) They reflected misery, hate, love and self-loathing so intensely, the opposing emotions amazing herself.
But what really scared her was the lifeless look in his eyes, the walking dead, as though he had given up. If she could help in anyway she would as long as he didn't kill himself, even if meant her only giving him a suicide hotline number.
It was only after seeing all these things in this stranger, did she realise he was serious and so she provided everything she could, apologised for her lecture (and in her head for things that had taken the life out of this man) and watched once they had finished an hour or two later him leave silently the only noise being the motorbike driving far away.
Well I hope this is okay...
Big thank you to narutonarutolove, HarryHermionieBellaSwan, Elfin69, Tikky Mikk, Regina Noir, posiden's daughter and of course MyDearGoddessOftheMoonandSun :D
As well as anyone else who favourited, alerted or added me to a community, I am forever thankful.
Oh quick note I found a book that made me laugh it was 'Jesus Potter Harry Christ' and about the comparisons between Harry Potter and Jesus. I couldn't stop laughing for ages when I found this :L
