Chapter four:
Shopping in a normal store was a lot harder than what he had become accustomed to in the magical world – pushing a metal trolley, which gradually got heavier and heavier the longer you were in the store. It also didn't help when Dudley shoved him for no reason, or sudden pulled the trolley in a completely opposite direction because he had spotted something that he just had to have. Of course, Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge were typically ok with that, allowing their precious darling whatever he wanted, no matter what it was nor what it cost. Harry could have sworn that Dudley picked the heaviest items on purpose (such a pack of 24 bottles of soda) just so he had to push more weight, and it didn't help that his scrawny 12-year-old body didn't have much weight behind it. Although he was a lot stronger than he looked.
Normally he wasn't invited on shopping trips, because Aunt Petunia hated his presence in public, but Aunt Marge had insisted so that he could push the trolley and unpack the bags into the car when they were done. Petunia had relented, because it was the first proper shopping trip since arriving in America five years ago, they had survived on trips to the local shop and eating out/take away since arriving. Or at least they had, Harry had been right about them not feeding him much – he was never allowed to go out with them for food, or eat the take awake, and he had barely managed to get a slice of toast each morning off them without being screamed at for being greedy.
He did have to keep up appearances though.
Harry was lost in thought when Dudley yanked the trolley again, this time causing Harry to trip off balance slightly, causing him to stumble and loose control of the trolley, which veered off into a teenager that was also stood in the snack section.
The boys response was slightly off, to what a normal teenagers would have been. Or to Harry it was anyway, considering that they were just in a Wal*Mart and there wasn't much threat there during the middle of the day. The boy had twisted around, pulling a dagger out of nowhere, looking around wildly – until his gaze settled on Harry who had finally steadied himself and Dudley who was yanking chocolate off the shelves. If Aunt Petunia or Marge noticed the dagger, they certainly didn't say anything.
Just as quickly as the dagger was drawn, it vanished again.
Shaking his head, and muttering under his breath, Harry grabbed the trolley again and pulled it back straight – earning a glare from Dudley who was still throwing a ridiculous amount of chocolate into the cart. As he waited for Dudley to finish, Harry watched the teenager who had gone back to browsing, but seemed to be keeping an eye on Harry too.
He looked to be around 14 years old, stood at around 5"7, broad shoulders, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts that went to his knees, top of the line running trainers and an orange t-shirt with Camp Half Blood scrawled across in Ancient Greek. Harry had found that he had no problem with reading Ancient Greek a long time ago, and had long ago learnt to keep it to himself; his relatives had said it was freakish, and with how the wizarding world reacted to him talking to snakes, Harry sure hadn't revealed it to anyone in Hogwarts yet.
"You can read my shirt?" the boy asked in a thick American accent,
That caught Aunt Petunia's attention, who had eyed the boy in distaste before going back to her own shopping earlier. Harry nodded sharply at the boys question, too far from Petunia for her to stop him.
"I – erm – learnt a long time ago, to read and speak Greek." Harry stated just as Petunia reached him and grabbed his ear in a tight grip, forcing him to walk and push the trolley at the same time,
Harry had to stop himself looking around for the teen as he was watched closely throughout the rest of the shop – Dudley even being denied things, Aunt Petunia wanting to get out of the store before the freak could cause another scene, but he could feel eyes on him, and as they were putting their items through the register, his eyes met with the piercing blue ones that were watching him suspiciously and curiously.
He hurt.
Everywhere.
Uncle Vernon had decided that he needed to be punished for the stunt that he had pulled whilst they were out stopping, Harry wasn't sure what exactly Petunia or Marge had told him uncle, but they must have over exaggerated greatly. It was Dudley that had caused the collision, and he had always been taught that it was impolite to ignore a direct question aimed at him. Apparently that rule was crossed out when it came to strangers asking the question in public.
Merlin, he hurt it places that he didn't know he could hurt!
Barely conscious Harry couldn't risk brewing any potions and he didn't have any books on healing even if he could, he didn't have any ready-made potions on hand either. Thoughts focused on a way out, he never even contemplated using the portkey to get to help, nor did he hear the person outside of his bedroom window.
Will Solace gasped in shock when he looked through the ground floor window of the house that he had followed the strange boy back to – so small, but felt so powerful, and could read Greek, he needed to know more! Not to mention something screamed at him to protect this small child, ok, not something; his father had ordered him to help the child, through communication directly into his mind.
This was why his father had sent him.
In the room, the carpet was covered in blood splatters and the small child was curled up, clearly in pain. He could see just through looking through the window that at least his left arm was broken, as well a large amount of bruising and blood loss from a head wound.
He had seen the family leave a few minutes prior, so with no qualms Will pulled out his dagger and – using the hilt – he smashed the window with ease. Quickly clearing the glass away from the frame, he scrambled through to assess the damage. He was so lucky that his father was the God of Medicine, it made these situations so much easier. After bandaging the wounds (with a kit that appeared magically. His father.) and securing the broken arm in a sling, and assessing that he didn't have any internal damage that was too serious to move him, Will looked around and grabbed the backpack that he had seen with the boy earlier – putting that on his bag, Will scooped down and picked up the child, carrying out of the window, with more ease that a mortal should be able to have, and quickly but confidently heading down the street.
This child was a demigod, no doubt about it.
There was no way he was leaving him with abusive assholes. Even Monsters usually only aimed to kill them, but torture and inflict the maximum about of pain.
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