Draco Malfoy hated forests. Ever since he had been nearly killed in one at the tender age of eleven-the first time-the young wizard made a point of staying well away from any gathering of trees too large to see from one end to the other. So it was understandable, really, that he was worried when the headmaster Ozpin informed him and his fellow initiates that they would be launched wholesale into a forest full of Grimm without supervision. It was made even worse by the fact that his last sixteen, nigh on seventeen years had been spent in a fucking desert, with barely any sort of trees whatsoever.
"Go to school, they said. Become a Huntsman, they said. It'll make you a better fighter." He mumbled under his breath as the line of students being launched off their pads slowly drew nearer and nearer to him. The teen glared at Ozpin, every molecule in his body burning at the sight of that silver hair. Seriously, was it some sort of requirement that the headmaster of a school be a crazy old coot with no concept of guarding their students? Draco was starting to think that may just be the case.
The grey-eyed teen's thoughts were torn away from his new headmaster when he felt a vicious force suddenly launch him upwards into the air, angling slightly towards the forest before them. Had he still been the man he was before coming to Remnant, he might have screamed, as the blonde boy from before did a second later. He was not, however, that cowardly child, scarred and broken by the vicious war he had participated in. Thus, Draco's only response to the sudden change in circumstances was to harden his thoughts and heart, face going blank even as it was pulled and pinched at by the passing air. His hand shot to the pole strapped across his back, taking advantage of the momentary lull in motion at the top of his arc to whip it out, before grasping it tightly in both he started to fall, Draco pressed a discreet button, and a slight smile tugged at his lips as the crescent-moon blades slid out of either end. It had been far too long since his Lily Storm had tasted Grimm flesh.
Draco waited until just the right moment, when the first leaves just brushed against his bare skin, before twisting slightly, just barely catching a nearby branch in the curve of one of his blades. A slight crackle of aura covered the sharp edge, preventing it from biting deep into the bark, and with a grunt Draco swung his body, allowing his weapon to slide over its landing zone and redirect his momentum. In a flash, the young Huntsman-in-training had stopped his downward momentum entirely, and from there it was childsplay for him to twist and land lightly atop a nearby branch. The teen miscalculated his momentum, however, and almost as soon as he landed Draco was sliding forwards, balance destroyed by the tiny change. Scrambling, Draco did the only thing he could think of, reaching out to the source of arcane energy that tingled just at the edge of his consciousness.
Draco hadn't had much use for magic during his time in Remnant. It was powerful, sure, but the displaced wizard had little interest in experimenting with the strange energy that felt so different from what he was used to. He did know a few uses for it, however, and now he employed one in a desperate attempt to save his life. As he fell forward, Draco gathered the energy into a thick blanket around himself, And it dragged at him, defying gravity. Like a feather, he drifted to the forest floor, before stepping out of his self-made bubble and out onto solid another moment's hesitation he set off into the surrounding woods, although the teen made sure to remain on high alert. He didn't have time to dilly-dally, but the memory of the Forbidden Forest still haunted his thoughts.
For nearly half an hour, Draco stalked his way through the forest silently. Every single one of his senses were on full alert, and the natural sounds of the forest had him shifting every few seconds. The crack of a twig here, the crunch of a leaf there, they all echoed in his ears like the blasts of a cannon. There was just so much life. It was a stark contrast to the desert, where even the slightest sound could signify death, not a squirrel chewing on its nut. His instincts were going haywire out here.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of torture, Draco heard something that instantly calmed him. A deep roar shook the trees, and as peace descended over him, Draco allowed himself a smile. Now this was something he could do. No more dodging birds and ducking rodents. The teen took off running, relishing the cold caress of the wind as it whipped past him. This was going to be fun.
When Draco burst out of the trees and beheld the scene before him, he froze, struck speechless. There was not, as he had expected, an ursa waiting to be slaughtered, even as it slavered for his flesh. Instead, Draco found himself faced with dozens of the damned things, huge and hulking as they growled ferociously. They weren't growling at him, though. No, the most surprising thing about the scene Draco found himself staring at was that the Grimm weren't alone. Deep in the ranks of hungry Grimm, something was moving, something dark and swift that cut through the beasts like a scythe through wheat. Draco could do nothing but watch as whoever it was slid under a heavy blow as if it were nothing more than a stiff wind before lashing out, a swift flash the only Draco could see before the Grimm went flying backwards, a smoking hole in its chest.
It took Draco only a moment to realize he was standing still, but even that was too much, he realized in horror, as whoever was in the midst of the Grimm horde was suddenly covered in several of the monsters, all clawing and tearing at him with a sickening savagery. Draco had barely registered that fact before he was moving, Lily Storm cutting through the air with a whistle to bite deep into the nearest Grimm. He didn't stop there, spinning past and tearing his weapon out of the dark flesh to leave a bright red slash. He was into the horde then, and the teen didn't waste any time in breaking the staff part of his weapon into its more versatile chained-shotguns version. A feral grin came over his face as he sidestepped the first swipe that came at him before slapping it away with a short barrage of fire.
Draco was a blur as he tore through the grim, perfectly in his element. He had trained to fight when surrounded, and he slipped through the batting paws and tearing fangs with the ease of a dancer on an empty stage, even as he unleashed a veritable storm of blade and bullet upon the beasts around him. With every step and every kill, he grew closer to the other man, still fighting desperately in the center of the horde. Or at least, it seemed desperate, until Draco finally got a good look at him.
Green eyes blazed with the fire of battle from underneath a messy mane of dark hair, and Draco found his breath catching in his throat as he watched the mysterious warrior fight. Moving with an easy lethality that sent shivers down Draco's spine, he was a whirlwind of death as he tore through the surrounding Grimm. Swift as the cutting wind he ducked a heavy black paw, before twisting to press the bladed bow in his hands against its owners skull, a glowing white arrow that crackled with power already nocked and drawn tight. He released the bolt, blasting a ragged hole in his target, and Draco's eyes widened in surprise at the damage wrought. Before the Grimm had even faded, however, the other student was moving again, rolling under a pouncing Ursa, only to lay out flat underneath it. Draco drew a harsh breath to warn him, The action nearly costing him as he was forced to block a strike that came far too close, but it turned out to be unneeded. When Draco hadn't been looking, the green-eyed stranger had drawn three more arrows, and the weight of their power hung heavy in the air as he grinned at the dark form falling down upon him. A twitch of his fingers released the arrows, and their force reversed the Ursa's direction. In a flash the warrior was up, following its path as he launched himself into the air, and with a short swipe, severed the beast's head mid-air.
As he landed, Draco's sight of him was once more obscured by the horde, and time-which had seemed to stand still as he watched-sped up once again, the chaotic tide of battle sweeping him away from any thought of the dark-haired warrior. Slowly, he fell into a steady rhythm as he fought, and just as he began to tire the space he spun away from one foe, only to find the space he had another to occupy empty. The realization brought him to a sudden halt In an instant his senses, dulled and focused by the pounding of blood through his veins and the sounds of battle around him, expanded, and Draco found himself in an unexpected situation. Around him, the few Grimm left alive by their twin crusade were running. Keening in fear, they disappeared back into the leafy cover of the forest, and as Draco saw watched them go, he suddenly found himself sighing with relief. That had been… a lot of Grimm.
Now that there was no enemy in sight, Draco turned to observe his new companion, who was leaning heavily against his weapon. He oozed power and lethality, from the dark leather coat and woolen shirt stretched tight over rippling muscles to the sin-black hair that framed his rugged face. Blazing green eyes met Draco's own silver ones, and he found himself shivering at their animal ferocity and slit pupils. This man was a warrior, through and through, and for just a moment Draco found himself measuring up to him. The thought was dismissed a moment later however, as the stranger rose from his slouched position to step closer, moving his considerable height and girth with all the grace of a lion. His eyes seemed to glow with a predatory sheen as he stopped just a few feet away, head tilted down to meet Draco's lower ones. There was something far too feral in that feline gaze for Draco to even consider fighting, but before he could figure out what, it seemed to disappear as instead of the growl he almost feared, a wide grin split the stranger's face.
"Well, that was fun. Want to go for another round?" Draco raised an eyebrow at the man, confusion sweeping thorugh him. They had just barely survived a massive horde of Grimm, and this guy wanted to do it again? Oum, please tell me I didn't just get partnered with an idiot.
"I'm sorry, I'd rather not. I happen to be allergic to death." He replied caustically, taking a discrete step back. Draco didn't know why, but being near this man gave him an odd sense of discomfort. His face, too, was strangely familiar, but Draco couldn't quite place it. Luckily, the stranger didn't even seem to notice as he let out a low chuckle.
"Most people are. But you have to admit, fighting a bunch of Grimm sure is one way to get the blood pumping." He grinned again, and even Draco found himself smiling a little. The stranger did have a point, even if it was suicidal and way too Gryffindor for his liking.
"I'm sure it is. Anyways, as we are partners now, it is only proper we introduce ourselves." Draco held out his hand, widening the smile he wore in what he hoped was a friendly manner. No need to get off to a bad start, after all. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. At your service." As the wrods left him, the stranger froze suddenly, and for a moment, Draco was afraid he had said something wrong. It had been quite awhile since he had spent any large amount of time in civilization, after all, and his manners were quite likely lacking. This worry was swept away a moment later, however, when the warrior before him suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter, stunning the snake-faunus. What the hell?
"Oh, you have got to be shitting me!" His laughter echoed throughout the the clearing, and against his will, Draco found himself stepping back cautiously, even as he allowed his hand to drop back to his side The other inching towards Lily Storm where it was strapped to his back, placed there after the battle. Before he could get too far, however, the green-eyed warrior's laughter cut off suddenly and his head snapped down to freeze Draco once again with a vicious glare. Silently, he stepped closer until their chest were almost press together, and his eyes bore deep into Draco's as if he were dissecting the silver-eyed boy's soul. For several long seconds they stood there, Draco afraid to even breathe as he met the burning stare, defiant even in his confusion. If the stranger attacked, he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself.
"You're faunus," He finally breathed, and Draco's eyebrows shot up. What did that have to do with anything? Something, apparently, because the man suddenly grinned as he stepped back, looking Draco up and down with a new light of appraisal in his eyes. "Oh, this is too good. Way too good." He laughed again, and finally, something in Draco snapped. He didn't know who this person was, or what in the name of oum was so funny, but a Malfoy was never laughed at, no matter the world. Like lightning, he shot forward and grabbed the stranger by his collar, before shoving him into a tree.
"What the fuck do you think is so funny?" He hissed, blood boiling with fury. The volatile emotion surged even higher when the dark-haired warrior's grin refused to die, even as his hands grabbed Draco by the shoulders and shoved him off.
"I'm laughing at you," He replied, before his hand shot forward and grabbed Draco's throat. In a flash, he twisted, and suddenly Draco found himself pinned, struggling against the other boy's iron grip. "I'm laughing at the fact that you, the so-called Pureblood, is one of us now. One of the animals. How does it feel, Draco, to be on the other side of all the hatred and bigotry? To have your very blood spat upon?" Draco scrabbled at his throat as the stranger growled at him, a long dormant rage burning in his vibrant green eyes. A second later, however, he stopped as a sudden realisation came to him; he wasn't choking. He could hardly believe it, but as he met the warrior's eyes and saw pain mixed with the rage, he felt no pressure cutting off his air, despite the iron collar holding him in place. Then the words struck him, their true meaning filtering through, and his own eyes widened, blood freezing in his veins.
"How do you know about that?" He breathed, and his captor's smile widened into a feral grin.
"What, don't you recognize your childhood rival?" He asked, and before Draco could ask what the hell he was talking about, his free hand rose up to his forehead, brushing aside the dark bangs that hung nearly to his eyes. When Draco saw what was hidden underneath, his blood didn't just freeze; it shattered, sending shards of fear and surprise through his heart. There, faded and old, but still as clear as the day it was first carved there, was a scar, cut into the shape of a lightning bolt.
"Potter," He breathed, and the grin widened in recognition. A second later, the hand around his throat was gone, and he fell forward onto his knees, resisting the urge to hack and cough. He was a little sore, perhaps, but otherwise none the worse for wear. As he lifted his head to look up at the spectre from his past, however, he started reconsidering that stance. "How?"
"The Veil, as best as I can tell." Potter's response was surprisingly casual, and Draco frowned as the other boy leaned against another nearby tree. How did he do that, shifting from pissed off to perfectly calm, so easily? Draco shook the thought out of his head after a second of consideration, deeming it unimportant. They were still in the middle of an initiation, after all.
"Ah," He said, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed as he studied Potter, searching for any signs of the previous hostility, but there was nothing. The bloody Gryffindor was perfectly relaxed, still offering him that stupid smile. "So what now?" Potter cocked an eyebrow at his question, before snorting. Draco agreed with the sentiment. It had been a stupid thing to ask, but in all honesty, it was all he could think of at the moment. What now, indeed.
"Now we finish our task. After that…" Potter's gaze sharpened on him once again, and Draco felt a flash of that fear once again, before shoving it down. The Gryffindor's eyes were just as vivid as before, and he had to stifle a shudder as he met had always been a bit dopey to Draco,, if foolishly brave. Now though, with the sheer power and lethality that he seemed to wear like a second skin... the man was terrifying. "Then we talk."
XXX
Okay, so i know it's been awhile, and for that I apologize sincerely. I have been slacking severely, and have no excuse, so heap any sort of blame you want on me. I deserve it.
Alright, before I let you all go, I did want to apologize if Harry seemed a bit out of character in this chapter, and definitely if Draco's thoughts on him seemed surprising. I know I haven't really been able to portray Harry exactly how I've wanted to up till now, mainly because he hasn't actually fought before, and one of the major things I wanted to show was that he is very different when it comes to serious situations, such as battle of any kind. Also, mostly he's just been hanging around people he considers cute and innocent, like Ruby, so he's been reigning in a lot more of his harsher traits. As for Draco's perceptions of him… well, the last he remembers, Potter was a semi-competent fighter who got through more on luck and guts than anything. Now, Harry is a badass warrior who is probably about the level of Adam Taurus, or at least how I imagine him to be. Draco's going to be in a bit of shock at the revelation.
Alright, I think that should be it for now, but if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, don't be afraid to Review or PM me. Otherwise, I'll see ya'll later!