Prey
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Walking Dead and no profit is being made from this fic.
Important note: This will be my first full-fledged fic, I'm hoping to set a regular update time however at this given moment I'm not exactly certain when that shall be. I'm not from America nor have I ever been there so apologies in advance if any settings are not described completely accurately, feel free to let me know if something is incorrect and I will fix it.
Pairing: Harry Potter/Daryl Dixon
CHAPTER ONE
Harry opened his eyes sluggishly, a groan on the tip of his tongue before he thought better of it, clamping his teeth shut with a near-silent clack. A sound as little as a squeak could set his uncle off and Harry was doing quite fine with the bruises he already had. He peeled his cheek away from the car window, trying to block out the incessant chatter and jabbing from Dudley besides him - he would've thought Dudley to have grown up by now but clearly, that wasn't the case.
He couldn't bite down the swirling fury the thought of his family ignited within him, he was 17, Voldemort was dead, the war ended yet once again he was back to his infernal family. Dumbledore finding a way to dictate his life from beyond the grave was the nail in the metaphorical coffin of Harry's cursed existence. So here he was, in some damned business car of the Dursleys driving away from anything he's ever known.
At least with his 'loving' family, Harry didn't have to deal with the blind hero worship Britain couldn't help but spew. However, with the Dursleys, he wasn't Harry Potter, not even the boy-who-lived just 'freak', 'boy', 'abomination' or the never-ending multitude of degenerating names his loving family came up with. Despite their loathing for imagination they never seemed to lack any in regards to insults for him, ironic.
The name-calling was something that rattled harry - grounded his gears, so to say. Even though he knew that the treatment inflicted upon him wasn't warranted and that he'd done nothing to deserve it, it was still dehumanising, still made him feel less than the dirt clinging to the bottom of uncle Vernon's polished leather shoes.
Harry brushed his thumb over the two lordship rings on his right hand, to think two pieces of metal could unwind his whole damn life, the corner of his mouth upturned bitterly at the thought. Lordship rings of ancient houses protect the wearer, be it from harmful potions to enchantments; doing just enough to warn their wearer of any ill intent.
Harry had accepted his lordships just before commencing on his Horcrux hunt, the rings' effects weren't something he had noticed straight away, or even months into his hunt. It was only near the end when he was to walk to his death -a martyr,- did he realise the whole foundations of his life were built upon lies.
Not that he didn't have some slight idea of the manipulation he'd experienced, just not the extent, it was one thing to suspect, another to know with certainty.
Yet, despite all expectation, Harry remained alive and kicking and therefore vowed he'd stay that way. He may have been lied to apparently his whole life but he'd make it on his own or he wouldn't make it at all. After Voldemort's death, he'd gone to Gringotts, praying they hadn't confiscated his funds for the whole dragon incident however his account manager, Griphook, only gave him a nasty scowl of a grin and snorted at his dumbfounded expression.
The only explanation Harry received from them was "All is fair in love and war", a proverb attributed to John Lyly's Euphues. Harry thought it odd that the Goblins would dare use a human's phrase considering their apparent distaste for both them and wizards but was careful to hold his tongue in the case they change their minds on confiscating his funds.
He had later learnt the Goblins to be a warrior race, they found his actions fair play, however, did take a hefty fee from his apparently many wizarding accounts to pay for any damages he'd made.
Harry supposed his so-called friends did care for him, in some strange twisted way. Harry knew they wouldn't purposely go out of their way to ever harm him however that didn't excuse how they remained willingly ignorant to the suffering he went through at the hands of the Dursleys despite glaringly obvious it was. While Harry had never said anything outright, his abysmal lack of height, barred windows and general emaciated form should have said enough. That's not even bringing into account how careful he is to avoid being seen in any state of undress.
It was almost funny how blind Ron and Hermione were and how blind he was to their true feelings, almost.
Harry would've thought it bitterly amusing if it weren't his own life.
Gazing out the window, Harry couldn't help but admire the scenery rushing past him, the Dursleys had received some sort of business proposition, a promotion of some sorts so they were to relocate to America or more specifically, Georgia. Harry was dragged along for the ride despite the Dursleys' ire, Harry hadn't known a person's face could turn so purple, perhaps Vernon was some special breed of human.
In regards to Harry's reluctance to return Hemoine had only smiled benignly, eyes twinkling in such a similar way to the late headmaster's that nausea crawled its way down his throat
"You shouldn't be so ungrateful Harry! You have someplace to stay don't you know what happened to the burrow? My parents don't even remember me"
She has scolded Harry like a naughty child, with this Harry knew he'd garner no sympathy from Hemoine nor Ron - who'd stayed silent, only nodding to agree.
So here he was, in America, the plane ride wasn't something he'd ever want to experience again, he wasn't used to flying and not being in control.
The heat was slightly stifling, worlds different from the frigid coldness of the Scottish highlands he'd gotten used to, he'd have to adapt to this new heat change quickly if he wished to remain comfortable - or as comfortable as one could be living with company such as the Dursleys.
The excuse for his delightful return to the Dursleys was how there will still rogue death eaters on the loose and how he must stay for his 'protection and wellbeing'. Harry found it amusing how the wizarding world would rather stick their heads in the sand and let children fight and struggle, suffer, for them but suddenly once the threat was eliminated they dared bully him into 'protection'.
Amusing indeed. Amusing and infuriating.
Harry also believed the rush for his return was related to how he'd defied public opinion and the expectations of his so called 'friends'. Ron had adamantly pressured him into joining the Aurors. and into marrying his sister. Harry never even liked Ginny, he'd only felt he had to date her since all the other Gryffindor boys had girlfriends at the time. He supposed she was pretty but Harry didn't think pretty was what he was into
'Out of the pot and into the fire' Harry had thought in response to these demands. For his whole life, before he was even born he'd been a pawn, a chess piece for Dumbledore to push around but finally, he'd completed his 'destined purpose' and it was time to get off the board.
Better late than never surely?
Despite Harry's apparent lack of luck in the friend department, there were two people he knew he could definitively trust with his life, Luna and Neville. They had tried so valiantly, so desperately to warn him of the truth.
Yet, Harry had been blind, ignorant and dosed with love and loyalty potions however in the end they had waited for him. Luna with that little knowing quirk of her lips and an 'oh finally' glinting in her eyes and Neville, strong and proud, a true Gryffindor lion, finally growing into his mane.
Harry loved them, truly, they had Seen him, Luna, more so in that special way of hers, always Seeing and Knowing, speaking of things just outside of perception and she Saw Harry, truly Saw him. Harry had never been Seen before in such a way, his soul laid bare to her Knowing pale eyes, Harry had felt vulnerable to her gaze, more like a child than he'd ever had the chance to be in his pathetic life.
Luna Lovegood Saw Harry Potter as what he truly was, an abused child-no, young man- for how could a child go through the trials Harry Potter had experienced, he was a young man from the day his parents dropped dead that chilled October night. But Luna Saw him, his longing to be loved, to escape, to just run till his lungs ached and mouth tasted like bloody iron, till his legs trembled with it, to fly free. She had seen and she had Known.
Luna Lovegood would unclip Harry Potter's wings and let him fly.
Harry peered out the window once more, the trees gradually faded to buildings, white, grey and shining windows replacing the lush greens of the Georgian country. Harry wasn't used to the hustle and bustle of a city, the thought left nervous anxiety burrowing into his bones, Harry knew psychologically he most likely had a boatload of issues, maybe this newfound panic over crowds was one of them.
Ripping his eyes away from the city, Atlanta, Harry turned his gaze back into the car and more specifically, to his newest possession, a collection of leather bracelets, from Luna and Neville, a parting gift. 3 brown leather bracelets looped around his thin wrist on his right hand, one plaited, one a smooth strip and the last with soft twine wrapped around it. They were beautiful, they felt sacred and important, he knew they would be.
No matter how much he wished to deny it, Harry knew they weren't just for aesthetic purposes, they were practically drenched in Luna's magic, covered in tiny runes some of which he had never seen before.
He could recognise a few, a book of ancient runes had appeared in his dorm room and with it, an ominous note describing how they would be useful. Many items had appeared in Harry Potter's life without much explanation but Harry knew they held great importance and he would require them, if not at the time, then later.
Harry traced one particular rune, Wynn, meaning joy and another, Giefu, meaning gift.
Warmth blossomed in Harry's chest at the thought Luna had put into them, the time and resolution needed to carve such minuscule runes and the research needed to use them.
Harry couldn't fight the fond smile at the thought Luna, a true friend, his little sister in all but blood however despite his elder age; her knowing looks often had him feeling younger, more naive in some strange way. The leather bracelets were based on the number three, three bracelets, three leather strands in the plait, three pieces of soft twisted twine and the runes in groups of three.
Three was a magic number, it was the perfect number, the number of harmony, wisdom and understanding. ... It was also the number of time – past, present, future; birth, life, death; beginning, middle, end – it was the number of the divine.
The three bracelets could only ever be removed by him, the thought settled something within Harry; he had always been a little possessive over his possessions, he'd never had much to call his own and now he did it calmed him to know no one could take it from him.
Gentle power thrilled in the bracelets, reminded him of home. Home. Harry wasn't sure where home truly was, Hogwarts was home yet danger lurked down every corner in that beautiful castle, a home was supposed to be safe or at least Harry thought it should be. It seemed he didn't have much experience. Luna and Neville felt like home, but not truly.
A soft ray of sunlight Harry's face, the warmth soothing him in some strange way, he admired the bracelets, they highlighted the fairness of his skin, made his thin wrists look delicate, soft even, he knew he was skinny and anyone of average size could easily wrap their hand around it but such thought only left a curious tingling in his stomach.
He reflected, when Harry had visited Gringotts he'd been surprised to find many attempts to barter money from his accounts, attempted by the Weasleys and Dumbledore, people who he had trusted, blindly. However, he has also found a successful attempt, by Luna. At the time the already stinging bite of betrayal from his "friends" had festered at the sight of Luna's name, a fire licking down his throat, choking, suffocating.
He'd felt like a fool when his goblin sardonically informed him that Luna's abilities as a True Seer override all security, she had Seen something and acted for him because she truly cared for him.
Harry fiddled with the little charms on the bracelets, Luna had drilled him into learning a shrinking spell, his trunk and broom attached themselves to the leather once they were in close proximity, Harry thought it to be quite ingenious.
She didn't say it outright but she'd hinted something was coming, she wanted him to be prepared. Harry wasn't sure what but he'd be damned if he didn't go in prepared.
Dudley's incessant whinging finally began to quieten, the car had finally slowed to a stop.
"Here we are" uncle Vernon had sneered, apparently he wasn't too fond of Georgia, or maybe just the hotel. It was a grey thing, pretty bleak but it looked comfortable enough, it had 5 big stars on it at least therefore it must be worth something.
"Yes well let's get inside, all the quicker to get out of this backwater dirty state" Aunt Petunia had sniffed, haughtily, as if the ground wasn't worth enough for her to walk on. Dudley plodding on behind her and Harry taking up the rear.
Harry wasn't given a bedroom of course, why would the Dursleys ever deem a 'freak' like him worth one? However, he did get a bathroom, it was clean and smelt fresh, Harry appreciated it more than he should have.
He gazed at himself, staring into his own eyes in the mirror; who was this wait of a creature staring back at him? His hair was longer now than it ever had been, tickling his shoulders and curling whichever way at the bottom. It was soft, silky, he had bought himself the proper things needed to care for it and he couldn't deny he liked the outcome.
Harry had finally put his clunky round glasses to rest once they were too broken to use 'reparo' on anymore, his new pair were equally as round but a little bigger, the frames a thin gold coloured metal with turquoise arms - at the time he'd felt a little frivolous buying them but was firm in his purchase as he reminded himself that he was allowed to have nice things. Harry was pale, not sickly but close enough to it, he was still thin, still small, still a little too girly than any normal boy, he was the same yet not.
Who was he?
Harry felt terribly off-kilter since the end of the war, like a puppet with its strings snipped, he was unsure of his purpose, he had no direction he was just drifting. Lost, not certain what to do with himself like his limbs were too long, just a bit wonky.
His whole life he was a piece in some grand game, strings called tautly and manipulated, he needed a new purpose.
Harry gazed at himself, he almost thought he looked pretty, Vernon was happy to remind him of it, how pretty he looked, how he needed to beat the Nancy man out of him. But some deprived needy part of himself almost liked it; how he was a little smaller than usual men, skin a little fairer, eyes a little wider, a little more girlish.
And Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that.
He always was short for his age, it made him more of a target to Dudley and his little gaggle of delinquents, chasing him around only to beat him when they caught him, at least his lithe size had made him fast, he didn't let them catch him easily, at least he made them work for it.
Turning slightly, Harry tugged his shirt up at the back,
large red lacerations decorated his back cross-crossing and marring his pale skin in red. He grimaced, they were still sore and tender but seemed to be lacking any sort of infection - for now, that is.
The whistle of the belt was never too far from his thoughts, the thwack as it made contact with his skin haunting him, just out of mind. To think the 'saviour of the Wizarding World' was beaten and starved by his muggle family, whatever would the press say?
It surely would be an interesting read Harry knew for certain.
Harry couldn't help but sigh weakly, he was still thrilled with adrenaline, he was so close to freedom, he was away from Britain and now all he had to do was grin and bear it till he hit 18, magical maturity. Technically he was already an adult in the eyes of magic, ever since the Triwizard tournament but of course this fact was conveniently brushed over. Harry knew he could survive, he could make it, he didn't exactly need anyone else in order to survive yet the hunger for companionship, for family, maybe even a partner, lingered coiled deep in his chest. A soft desire, churning in need.
Harry Potter was one step closer to freedom yet it didn't help him feel less alone.
A/N:
Hey everyone, this is my first real fic so please don't be too harsh. I simply adore this pairing and with so few finished fics regarding it I just had to make one myself too. I'm absolutely open to ideas and recommendations so definitely feel free to leave your ideas in the comments, I'd love to know how you think the story should progress. I've been on ao3 for a while but I'm afraid I don't have a lot of experience don't feel afraid to leave and constructive criticism. Thank you do much for reading.
I hope to introduce the Dixon's either in the next chapter or the one after.
Also please let me know what chapter lengths you'd like? I hope you update a few times a week, this was 3k, shorter chapters like this means I can update at a quicker rate but i'd like to know what you think.
I'm more active on ao3 by the same name, leave me a msg :)