Disclaimer: *Holds up random copy of Harry Potter book*

Me: Does this mean I don't need to put a disclaimer anymore? I do now own a Harry Potter book.

Copywrite dog (the animal that sniffs out those who do not follow copywrite laws): *growl*

Me: Okay, okay, geez. Just figured this meant I at least didn't have to put a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter. *sigh* Oh, well. On with the show that I can't claim entirely as my own!

Chapter 10

Well, befuddling for the first few seconds, terrifying the next. Harry first saw all the other campers huddled to the side with the adults standing protectively in front of them. Many wands and other sharp, pointy things were directed towards him. Harry might've thought they were scared of him, if not for the fact that they seemed to look through him, as if he were still a shadow. (For the record, he knew exactly what that felt like. During his Shadow Travel practice session, he got stuck in the "In Between" enough times to know the sensation.)

Harry, curious and concerned enough in those few seconds of observation, turned around to face whatever spooked them. He was not disappointed.

As it turns out, while Death explained that time in the "Realm Between" (different than the "In Between") moved more slowly than in the living realm, it had not explained by how much. As Harry turned, he learned that the time passed in the living realm was more than enough.

That was the only explanation for how a deranged Nightmare stood huffing right behind him. There was no comprehensible reason why the magical horse hadn't noticed him yet, nor was there a comprehensible reason for why of all places, he emerged from its shadow. A thought for another time, perhaps.

The Nightmare was a dark black in color, with dark blue flames licking as its mane and tail. Two lines of flames that looked like embers lined its shoulders and back, separate from its mane. Harry couldn't tell from this angle, but similar embers seemed to make a spot on the horse's forehead. What he could definitely tell from this angle, though, was how massive the thing stood. Its shoulders eclipsed Harry's own by several inches, and its head rose even higher than that.

All in all, the thing was even more terrifying than the one that chased him and the other boys just the other day. Had it really been less than a week?

The Nightmare, which Harry assumed had gotten its breath back, shook its head back and forth, mad. Its eyes rolled back in its head, and the amount of exertion it had obviously already expended frothed from its spit.

It looked crazed, and like it had rabies.

Harry quickly backed up, all instincts towards preservation, which screamed get away from the thing that will trample you without even trying! His movement must've caught the corner of the beast's eye, though, because it turned its head in his direction. The dark eyes gleamed from its own fire mane. Harry's instincts warred. One side argued, Get the bloody hell away from that thing! while the other said, You turn, you get burned.

He reset and slowly backed away, keeping his front to the fire horse. The horse leaped forward, faster than Harry could track, hitting him in the chest with its muzzle.

Harry laid on his back, now staring up at the thing that focused its attention solely on him. It still huffed from its exertions from earlier, yet the beast did not look as mad as it did just seconds ago. Rather, it seemed assessing. It pawed the ground near Harry's hand, which made the boy's hand jump to his chest. Now, let it be said that Harry's hands, like many people's who do not wish to lay back against the ground when there's a danger in the area, were supporting him, and while normally his weight would transfer to the other one to allow for him to stay in that position, Harry's panicked yet tense movements had the added effect of not allowing his body to naturally compensate for that weight. In layman's terms, he fell over, his head and shoulders rolling towards the pawing hoof that threatened his hand he oh-so-desperately was trying to protect.

His heart froze.

So did the horse's hoof.

The beast's giant head lowered to be almost even with Harry's own. Their eyes met, and an understanding seemed to pass between them. The Nightmare huffed and shuffled backwards, allowing Harry to clamber to his feet. With one last huff and shake of mane, the horse turned back towards the woods from which it came, reared back, whinnied, and dashed back into the forest's depths.

Harry stood and watched it.

If someone were to ask Harry what that understanding might have been, he couldn't have told them. As soon as the Nightmare disappeared, his memory shifted, and only an imprint of something of importance nagged at him from the recesses of his mind. He could remember all the actions that had taken place, but not the why of the matter. He figured that the horse, in its own madness, ran off through no actual reasoning or logic of its own.

Harry turned to his fellow campers. They stared at him, wide-eyed. A film covered their eyes, like that from a daydream. The adults were the first to snap out of it, the children soon after.

Their heads, already turned in Harry's direction, looked over the boy, before exclamations of excitement rose from the crowd. The adults dashed forward, checking him over for any signs of injury. The children, not too far behind, clamored for his attention, asking all manner of questions ranging from, "Where'd you go?" to "You sure know how to get everyone worried, huh?"

Harry, even with all his dealings with the British Wizarding World's hero-worship of him, was a socially-inept, crowd-hating introvert at heart. And like any person who fit this category, his mind panicked even worse than when facing the Nightmare, he froze at the smothering of attention. He could answer no questions, yet the longer he stayed silent, the more the crowd, as they so often do, came up with their own answers. Yes, he was fine. He went somewhere outlandish. Of course, he knew how to worry everyone. The crowd came to mutual agreements without any input and asked more and more outlandish questions of him. They seemed to grow louder, clamoring for attention and starting to bodily shove each other this way and that to have a prime spot to ask him a question he would never answer.

The adults, they themselves ignoring the children to focus on Harry, provided the only measure of protection from the mob. The children pushed at some invisible line that separated them from the adults (and therefore, Harry), inching closer, but never touching.

Harry, mid-panic attack, started hyperventilating. And as the brain lacked oxygen, the body went on autopilot to fix it. Everything went dark as the ground rushed to meet him.

Harry wouldn't know it, but while that shifted the adults from questioning into action, it excited the mob even more. Finally, some adults took notice of the crazed children and together put a calming spell over the lot.

One boy, not a part of the mob, but kept away from Harry because of it, only gulped. His mother wanted him to welcome Harry into American culture with as much comfort as possible. He winced at the thought of the spanking he'd receive if she found out about the drama that had happened over the past day. It wasn't even noon, and his new friend had been through more than possibly any other camper who came to become a spiritualist. At least, he thought, this will make his vacation more memorable. Yeah, while he agreed with his mother, Chase Higgindobbins was not looking forward to his mother finding out her newest charge (even if he didn't realize she considered him that) had such an eventful trip already.

…

Harry woke to the sounds and smells he knew well. He was in the med-tent, which was too much like Hogwarts Hospital Wing, in Harry's sophisticated opinion.

He turned his head to see Chase sitting beside him, seemingly waiting for him to wake up. He did not look amused.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Chase grunted, "I don't know, you tell me. One minute, you're sitting there, looking pitiful, and the next you just disappear! Then you stay away for at least ten minutes, and everyone is freaking out over where you'd gone! Only to appear suddenly again as if nothing happened! In your human form! Do you know how worried everyone was? And you just waltz in as if there was no reason for you not to be gone! Then you have to cause another panic by fainting! Do you know stressful it is to wait on you to wake up and pray to God no one told my mom? Do you?"

Harry stared at Chase, mouth slightly dropped and eyes wide. The only thing he could manage past his astonishment was, "That's the most you've ever talked."

It might have been humorous to an outsider, to see one crazed boy and the other in a complete state of befuddlement facing off, but to the two boys, this interaction was as serious as they come.

"Besides," Harry finally choked out, "what happened with that Nightmare?"

"Nightmare?" Now, the roles were reversed, slightly. Now both boys stared at each other in an incomprehensible stupor.

"Yeah, the Nightmare?"

"Harry," Chase said, serious, "there was no Nightmare. What are you talking about? Did you have a dream when you passed out?"

Harry stared at his friend, thoughts running through his mind. It didn't sound correct, but if Chase said so, "Yeah, yeah. I guess I did."

…

Harry stayed in the med-tent for the next hour as the medical personnel ran tests. They didn't just have to check him over from the panic episode, they also had to check him over for any adverse side effects from his "disappearing act" and the effects from when he was stuck in his spiritual form. While they stressed how important it was to know all the information they could, Harry remained steadfast in not telling them anything about the Realm Between. Not because he felt they wouldn't believe him (although he knew they wouldn't), but because he did not want anyone to know his connection to Death. He still wasn't certain what to make of it. Wasn't death supposed to be a bad omen, no matter the cause? If that's the case, he had the ultimate omen he could've received from that interaction.

Chase hovered outside near the doorway. He couldn't get in anyone's way, but he was still concerned for Harry. Or at least, that's what Harry hoped.

It was strange to Harry, to have someone wait on him like this. Normally, he was unconscious when he came to the Hospital Wing, and he had to stay for at least a day after he awoke. Ron and Hermione physically couldn't stay nearby the entire time because they had classes, or they had some other thing they had to do. They also knew Madam Pomfrey would not allow them anywhere near his bed even after she finished with him. She always stressed he needed the rest, but he was often too awake to sleep, and just sitting in a hospital bed was boring. Harry suspected she didn't approve of his friends, that somehow, they were the ones responsible for his injuries. Maybe she thought his "dangerous tendencies" (her words, not his) were amplified with them there, like little overexcited kids fed off each other and never calmed down. Either way, they didn't bother staying. Hermione and Ron had figured out long ago when they could visit Harry, and they didn't push the matron to stop visitation rights altogether. Either way, they couldn't wait for him, and he had learned to accept that.

Chase didn't have such things keeping him from visiting Harry. He sat on a chair outside the door, directly in Harry's line of sight. When Harry looked over, he'd either smile encouragingly or make silly faces to keep any type of boredom from reaching Harry. Before he left the room, Chase had mentioned "keeping an eye on him" because his mother would "half-kill" him if she found out and "completely kill" him if she found he wasn't "doing his duty" in keeping watch over Harry. It was only Harry's understanding of the Higgindobbins family that kept him from being concerned. While having sarcasm and dry wit, both parents showed massive concern for their children's well-being. Harry felt a stirring deep in his heart at the thought that they considered him one of their own. No matter if the Weasleys had done so for a few years now: Harry, while grateful to them, didn't feel as connected with them as he did with the Higgindobbins, and either way it would always be a novel experience after the Dursleys.

Once the doctors' and nurses' exams and questions were over, Harry was free to leave. Even the thought made him jump from his bed and run to the door like the hounds of hell were chasing after him. And he would know, he had seen how intimidating the Peverell brothers were.

Chase calmly stood from his seat, almost laughing at Harry's melodramatic behavior. He followed the other boy out the door, where Harry hovered uncertainly.

"What are we supposed to do?" Harry asked.

"Go back to the cabin. The guys said if they went to do anything they'd leave a note."

"Oh, alright then." Honestly, Harry wasn't expecting such a confident response. He figured Chase would reply with a casual, "I don't know, what do you think we should do?" that Ron might've responded with. It startled Harry, to expect something so Ron-like from Chase, his almost complete opposite. Harry figured it had something to do with the "best friend" category they both hovered nearby. Harry found he didn't connect as much with Ron, but he had known him for about three years now, and Ron had gone on so many death-defying stunts with Harry he could never be replaced.

Chase, on the other hand, he had an instant connection with. He hadn't known him long, and yet he knew how to interact with Chase on a deeper level than Ron. Ron, he had to watch what he said around in case Ron's sensitivities got in the way. Understandable sensitivities, but sensitivities all the same.

Harry decided that he was thinking too much over the issue. Ron could be his "British Best Friend," and Chase would be his "American Best Friend." Along with that, Hermione would be the "Best British Female Friend." He couldn't name his best American female friend, but both Sherry and Alex were close to a sisterly level by now.

As thoughts often do, these musings did not last for more than several seconds. Chase hadn't even walked more than a few steps ahead of him before he came to his conclusions and snapped out of his state of self-induced shock.

As they "moseyed on down" to the cabin (as Alex once said), Harry and Chase made little small talk perpetuated with brief silences that allowed whatever was said to be congested before they continued with their conversation as they had before the pause. It was relaxing, if Harry were honest with himself. Ron would chatter just to chatter, and Hermione's brain processed so much faster than his that she often would move onto the next subject before he understood what she had said to begin with. Don't get him wrong, Ron and Hermione both gave him stimulating conversations that slowly brought him out of his shell, but as a person who had never had anyone meaningful to talk to until he was eleven, it was hard for him to be relaxed in a constant conversation.

Harry didn't like how he seemed to constantly be comparing Chase to Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't help it. They were the only three meaningful friendships he had, and he couldn't help but marvel at how different they were. When he was smaller, he figured every friendship would be the same. He could only look from the outside, and he honestly would rather not look at all if it meant he didn't have to think about the loneliness he felt.

The cabin was empty, as to be expected by the time of day. Everyone was out doing some kind of activity, whether that be canoeing (he'd seen the small figures on the water on the walk up) or learning how to control their first form. The small animal population in camp seemed to have increased dramatically, as the larger forms practiced in clearings nearby.

Harry turned to Chase, "Oh, I forgot to ask. What's your new form?"

Chase looked at him semi-reproachfully. "Harry, did you already forget? You never ask someone what their form is, it's rude."

Harry bent his head. He couldn't believe he'd already forgotten!

"But," Chase continued, suddenly looking more mischievous, "since you're my friend, I guess I'll tell you." He held a dramatic pause, which Harry responded with a drumroll against a nearby headboard like he'd seen some of the others do while at camp. It was fun, he'd give them that.

"I'm a kitsune."

Harry smiled, "Congrats. So, you did continue the family tradition."

Chase smiled, "Yeah, but I don't think anyone would've cared if I didn't. At least I'll have some help learning my form close to home."

Harry snorted, "Close to home? You mean in your home."

Chase rolled his eyes, "You're not funny, you know that?" He only got a grin in response. He huffed, "I know your form is some kind of wild, magical dog, but no one recognizes it."

Harry took the opening for what it was, "Yeah, although I don't know how wild it actually is. I'm a hellhound of some sort."

Chase gaped, "Hellhound? Like the demon dogs in all the movies?" Harry felt a growl deep in his subconscious. "That kind of hellhound?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I guess? You know I don't watch that many movies. But, yeah, I guess I could be a demon dog… in a way." He knew he was mumbling, but he was too uncomfortable to care.

Chase smiled, "Cool! I didn't even know that was an option! Man, I bet that'll be fun!"

Harry was confused, "You're not mad? I just told you I'm a death-based creature? I know Americans are more progressive in their thinking, but you're not bothered by this, even a little?"

Chase looked at Harry assessingly. "I forget how ignorant you are sometimes, you know? As long as you do no wrong with the form, your form has the same rights as you do. 'Innocent until proven guilty,' and all that. No form is considered evil or a bad omen, and as long as the scarier-looking ones don't walk along the street and scare toddlers, no one cares."

Harry was reassured by Chase, but he couldn't help but wonder, What will Ron and Hermione say? I saw what happened when they though Sirius was a grim, will that be me? Will it be the Chamber of Secrets all over again?

His magic finally spoke up after so long (he didn't know it could be so quiet and calm for so long, he thought its ADHD would kick in much sooner), Don't worry about it. If they can't accept you for who you are, then they weren't your friends anyway. We can just hop a plane and fly back and live the rest of our life here.

Such words of wisdom, Harry replied, and where were you?

Off in your subconscious somewhere, playing with the new puppy. Man, you must have schizophrenia or something. We have your thoughts, and you talk to me, which can't be healthy since I'm a part of you. Then there's the doggy. And soon there'll be another!

If I'm schizophrenic, then so are all other wizards.

Yep, the magic-people are crazy! His magic laughed. It started singing to prove it's point. You are crazy! You are crazy! La-da-da da-da da!

Shut up! He laughed back. And yes, Chase looked at him as if he were crazy, staring off into space and then laughing as he was, especially after such a serious topic. Maybe once he caught his breath, he'd tell him what was going on.

Chapter is finished!

This is NOT making fun of any mental disorders. This is just a playful interaction between two friends (similar to many interactions between teenagers especially). I can't believe I feel that I need to put that, but there you go!

I think I'm done asking for forgiveness for taking so long. I'll just keep doing it anyway. I have found, though, that the busier I am, the more I try to make room for writing, so hopefully as life picks up I'll be able to update more than I have been. (Doubtful, but hopeful.)

Does anyone else hate how whenever there's an interaction between two girls or two guys, it gets difficult to follow who's doing what, but if the author used their names then the actual writing itself would be awkward? Stupid pronouns.

Valiryo: First, can I say I love that you went so far into it? I didn't think anyone would look so deeply (which I appreciate). I think there was more information on the reason for why other countries do not know of the Americanized magic system in chapter four, but I will probably address it more in later chapters. You even gave me a few ideas to use during those interactions, too, so thank you! Here's a simple explanation for now, though: Some magic CAN'T be used in Europe, so it would be kind of difficult to find out about it if you can NEVER see it. The other details will be addressed in the story later.

Thanks for all the positive reviews, guys!

Published: 9/11/18 (Never forget.)

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