Pilot: Part 1

Present Day

The man in red jumped over a log landing lightly on his feet before letting his legs collapse so that he fell to the ground, using his hands and feet to steer and guide where he went as he slid down a small hill. Dead branches as leaves flew up in front of him as his body made path through the undergrowth disturbing different plants and animals as he went. If you looked closely you could see a faint outline in the ground like this path had been made over and over again. He could see the rocky ledge ahead of him getting closer and closer. The start of his climb up the side of a cliff. As he neared the bottom of the hill he pushed up from the ground, letting the momentum of sliding down carry him forwards. He grabbed a hold of the ledge, his hands curling around the edge of the rough rock, and pulled himself up. The metal bow that he held in his hand not being a problem for him.

Within a matter of seconds he'd managed to swing his legs up and over the ledge to carry on making his was forwards without any hesitation. It was clear he knew where he was going. That he had his destination in his head. He had made the trip many times before going by the ease at which he jumped and avoided the obstacles in his way. It was instinct to him as he made his way through his green and grey and brown surroundings until he slowed to jog, mindful that he was now running along the edge of a very steep and tall cliff. As he came to the end of the cliff he stopped, keeping his bare feet on the mud instead of the rock.

From here he could see the entire island. The dark grey-blue seas surrounding it, the enormous forest that took up most of it, somehow it made its way up the sides of the mountains. The rocky land that in the last five years he'd learnt to call home. The man in red was at one of the higher points on the island and from his position he could still make out the triangular white shape further out at sea than he could swim.

His sanctuary.

He watched the ship, anxious, but waiting with practiced calm. Any second now he would get a signal from his friend.

A man in green.

Then it would be his turn. Below him he could see the white and greys of the beach, the one part of the island that from a distance looked relatively peaceful and welcoming. The only things out of the ordinary on it being two large piles of wood that had been stacked in such a way that it looked like giants had decided to make two campfires and then forgotten to light them. As he watched them his thoughts drifted for only a slight second but he was brought back to the island when one of the piles of wood, the one further from him, went up in flames.

From here he could see the sudden flash and noise that it had created and he was confident that the owners of the ship would hear it too.

Now it was his turn.

He bent down on one knee and lifted up a black shirt from the ground. One that would be hidden from anyone but the person who had put it there as it was covered in grass, leaves, rocks and dust to make it blend in with the uneven ground of the cliff. Underneath it were three arrows each with large stone heads that had been cut down into sharp points. The closest arrow was the one that he used and he struck it against the ground so the arrow head caught a light. They'd managed to get the small boats attention. Now it was his turn to show the boats occupants that the first fire wasn't a coincidence. He set the arrow on the bow and aimed, letting the arrow fly through the air towards its target.

As the arrow made contact with the second pile of wood and it too went up in flames with a loud roar. The man in red gave himself a few precious seconds to watch the boat change course towards the island. Then he turned and ran back the way he'd came but this time he ignored the fact that he was on the edge of the cliff and this time he noticed there was a small feeling of hope opening up inside of him. It was like someone had just unlocked a chest that had been hiding the emotion for just over five years.

Five minutes later he ran onto the beach towards the man in green who was waiting closer to the ocean. The man that in the last five years had slowly become a friend to the man in red and then become a brother that he'd never had. The man clothed in red leather slowed when he neared the man dressed the same as him but in green. Both of them still had their hoods up, covering their faces in a dark shadow but it didn't hide the small nod of comfort and happiness that the man in green showed to the man in red, clearly asking a silent question, asking him if he was alright. The man in red gave a slight nod of his head to say yes.

Obviously satisfied with the answer the man in green walked towards the edge of the beach where two fishermen were already making the way onto the sand. The smaller one followed behind him, copying his friend's actions. As they made their appearance the two fishermen stopped suddenly, hesitating and unsure of what to do. The taller man then bent down on one knee and pulled back his hood revealing a head covered with light brown hair that came down past his shoulders.

The smaller man copied the others actions again trusting him with what to do. He pulled his hood back and revealed a mess of dark brown almost black hair that was considerably shorter than his friends, his only coming down to just past his head not his shoulders. The two fishermen stared at the two men for several minutes before talking to each other in hushed voices. Although they spoke in a different language that both men noticed was Mandarin, they still understood what was being said.

The man in green spoke up to them first, showing that he was clearly the leader of the pair. After five minutes the three stopped their conversation and the man in green turned to his companion who had been quiet throughout the conversation except for a few sentences here and there. "I'll go get out things" he said leaving the younger one on his own. He knew the 'things' that his friend was talking about. It included two wooden cases that they kept their bows and few other small possessions in. He turned around when one of the men then spoke to him still in Mandarin. He understood the question to be 'What's your name?'

"Harry Potter" he replied.

-o-0-o-

Harry Potter sat on the fishing boat his position now vice versa. Instead of looking at the boat from the island he was now looking at the island from the boat. He was staring at the island without realising there was a ghost of a smile showing on his face. He looked down at his feet that were resting on one of the wooden cases that the man in green, Oliver Queen, had brought back from their camp and got lost in his own thoughts

As soon as Oliver returned with their possessions the two fishermen had taken him and Oliver to their boat where they had cleared a space for them to sit before giving them each several blankets to keep them warm and food and drink.

As the island slowly got further and further from sight Harry turned to Oliver who sat looking at the island too. As if he felt Harry's eyes on him Oliver looked up and the two stared at each other for a second before Oliver smiled. "Harry?" he said quietly so he didn't disturb the boat workers.

"Yeah" Harry replied mindlessly playing with the loose thread from one of the blankets draped over his shoulders.

"We're going home." That one simple sentence said by Oliver was enough to make the ghost of a smile on the seventeen year olds lips come through properly. He was silent for a moment and glanced back towards the island before looking back at Oliver.

"We're going home" he said.

-o-0-o-

Moira Queen stood watching her son as a doctor spoke quietly next to her. "His body is covered in thirty percent scar tissue. He also has second-degree burns on his back and his arms and we've done x-rays that show he has at least twelve fractures that have never fully healed." The doctor who was talking took Mrs Queens small sigh as a sign that she had heard what he'd said.

"And the boy with him" she asked staring at her son and then looking at the boy who was sat on a hospital bed staring up at the ceiling.

"Harry Potter. He's seventeen years old and in the same position as Oliver. His body is covered in twenty-five percent scar tissue and he has a second degree burn on his leg. He has five fractures that never fully healed." Moira Queen was silent as she took in the information that was being presented to her about her son and the younger boy. "Mrs Queen. I think you need to prepare yourself. The Oliver that you lost five years ago might not be the one that was found."

The blonde woman nodded her head and turned towards the doctor holding back tears. "Thank you doctor" she said. "May I see him?"

"Of course" he said opening the door for her and she stepped into the room. Harry looked down from the ceiling taking notice of the woman that had stepped into the room with them. Oliver however stayed staring out of the window still lost in his own thoughts.

"Oliver?" the blonde woman said staring at her son forgetting about the youngest occupant of the room.

For a slight moment Harry wondered if Oliver was going to answer but was relieved when the older man who was like an older brother to him turned around. "Mum" he said. As if it was an invitation and she had just been invited Moira Queen stepped forwards and hugged her son the tears finally falling as she stroked his back.

"My beautiful boy" she cried and Harry could hear the tears in her voice. "My beautiful boy." Harry watched for a couple of seconds as Oliver's mum carried on whispering into her sons ear before quietly getting up from the bed and walking out of the room slowly closing the door behind him to let the family have some time alone.

The seventeen year old walked down the hallway without a clear destination in mind making sure he stayed out of the way of the doctors and nurses as he went. He kept his head down not wanting to talk to anyone at this moment in time. One thing Harry knew he'd missed was having proper shelter and not having to live in a cave. Back on the island he'd slept on the ground but since he'd come off the island he had spent his nights in an actual bed. And he wasn't going to lie. He preferred that a lot more, and even though his nights were still sometimes haunted by his life on the island he still managed to sleep a lot better here. The nights only improving with each day.

He past a window and hesitated slightly staring out at the city below him. Starling city, the place where Oliver had grown up. From this floor of the hospital Harry could see a fair amount of the city ahead of him. He'd always liked heights and that like had only increased as his time on the island increased too. Up high Harry could see everything that was going on around him and who was around him. He felt safe. In control. Up high he was free to do what he wanted, go where he wanted and it was a feeling he loved above nearly everything else.

He shifted his view slightly so that he was looking at his reflection in the window. Since his return Harry had had his hair cut. Instead of it being just past his chin his hair had been cut to just past his ears and now he could see properly as it didn't cover up his eyes, however, he still had it hiding his scar. The scar on his forehead still hadn't faded; it still looked as fresh as it had been when he'd last looked in a proper mirror nearly five years ago. He no longer wore glasses thanks to a special herb a man he considered a friend had found on the island. The herb improved you senses and because his site had been the worst it had been affected the most. He was also glad to be wearing fresh clothes, even if they were hospital issued ones.

He saw the reflection of a taller man walk up behind him. A man he knew very well but the two didn't speak, both of them stood in silence enjoying just looking out at the view of the city. No one thought twice about them as they walked past the pair looking out of the window. "I wondered where you'd got to. I saw you leave the room but you disappeared after that" Oliver said to the seventeen year old after several minutes of silence.

Harry looked up at the reflection of Oliver. "I was here. I thought I'd give you and your mum some time alone. You've been separated for five years."

Oliver put his arm on Harry's shoulder knowing it would instantly relax the younger man. Harry didn't take any notice of it, having gotten used to the small show of comfort that Oliver gave his make shift brother throughout his time on the island. "Yeah well I wouldn't have mind. Neither would my mum. She'd like to get to know you and has offered you a place back home."

"She doesn't know me" Harry said, still not used to people other than Oliver and his friends from before the island showing him hospitality.

"But she knows me. And she wants to get to know the man I spent five years trapped on an island with" Oliver said moving away from the window. "You don't have to say yes. Have you called Ron or Hermione yet?"

"No. If I'm honest with you, now that it's come down to it I don't know what I would say to them" Harry said looking down at the ground in thought.

"The hardest part will be picking up the phone. I'm sure once you've started talking you'll know." Harry turned to Oliver knowing that the older man was probably right. Doubts were still forming in his head though.

"Ron doesn't have a phone and Hermione's probably changed it at least once in the last five years." Oliver watched Harry seeing right through his answers. In the past five years he'd gotten to know Harry well, just like Harry had with him. He'd learnt about his family and his biggest secret which included Harry's two friends. The two had become close, like family, Harry was the brother that Oliver never had and vice versa and if Oliver had learnt one thing on that island it was how to read the boy in front of him.

"Well I'm sure Hermione will have a home phone." He knew Harry was only trying to avoid the unknown. Avoid talking to his friends for fear of what it will be like. Because of this he decided to change the subject. "But you can call her later, for now my mum's talking to the doctors about our release date. We should be able to leave tomorrow morning, they just want to keep us in overnight for observation."

Harry raised one eyebrow, something that seemed to have become a habit in the past five years. "You make it sound like we're in prison."

"Not yet" he said grabbing Harry and pulling him into a makeshift head lock before releasing him and walking off. "Now come on. I told you my mum wanted to talk to you. She's not as scary as she looks I know how skittish you are."

"Your mum doesn't scare me" Harry said standing up straight but smiling. Showing Oliver that he knew he was joking. "Plus I'm not a cat. I can't get skittish."

"Yeah well prove it to me" Oliver said walking off with Harry following behind him.

-o-0-o-

Moira Queen seemed like a nice woman who cared deeply for her children. Harry noticed that as soon as Oliver introduced her to him. She smiled warmly at him and asked how he was, picking up conversation with the youngest person quickly but making sure she didn't push him. Harry was also grateful for having Oliver there with him. He had never been great with meeting new people but that had improved over time however he still felt a little uncomfortable talking with Oliver's mother. When there was an awkward pause Oliver was there to fill it in and Harry was thankful for that. She'd also asked if Harry wanted to stay with them as well even though she knew Oliver had asked him already. He accepted the offer, and even if Oliver didn't show it very clearly Harry could tell that the older man was still happy with his answer.

That was how Harry ended up in the back of a black car that was driving up the front path towards the Queen's home. The car pulled to a stop in front of their home and Harry found himself looking up at the house in amazement. For a house it was huge and Harry was reminded again that Oliver came from a family of billionaires. It wasn't as big or as fantastic as Hogwarts but it reminded Harry of it greatly. Next to him Oliver was looking up at his home too. The thoughts running through his head being very different.

"Come on" Mrs Queen said and Oliver went to the back of the car, stopping the driver from taking out his and Harry's wooden cases holding their belongings. He handed Harry his own case containing his bow and Harry took it by the handle and then followed Oliver and Mrs Queen into the house.

As Mrs Queen opened the door to her home she started talking to Oliver. "I've kept your room how you left it before you left. I never had the heart to change anything" Mrs Queen said turning around to face her son who was looking around this home like many memories had just come flooding back to him. "And Harry, you can have a room opposite Oliver if you'd like or there are plenty of others to choose from if you'd rather not be with the rest of the family. It's up to you."

Harry looked at Mrs Queen. "Thank you but I don't mind. I can go where it's easiest for everyone else."

Mrs Queen looked at him for a slight moment as if trying to read the seventeen year old and Harry forced himself to not shift with discomfort. Finding what she was looking for Mrs Queen let another one of her warm smiles show. "Nonsense, it's your choice."

Harry nodded his head, "Erm I'll have the room opposite Oliver then, if that's alright with you?" He turned to his left and glared when he heard Oliver fail at holding back a laugh.

"Relax. This is as much your home as it is mine now." Harry remained glaring at Oliver who wasn't fazed by the look at all.

"Oliver," Harry heard from behind him and he turned around to see a tall man walking out of one of the side rooms in the house. "Oliver it's damned good to see you. It's Walter. Walter Steele."

Oliver smiled a greeting to the man. "And you must be Harry Potter. Moira spoke to me about you yesterday." The man stuck his hand out in greeting to Harry. Harry looked at the man for several seconds, not sure on how he felt about knowing that Oliver's mum and Walter had talked about him. He shook Walter's hand anyway not wanting to be rude to the family that were inviting him into their home.

"It's good to me you Mr Steele."

"Please just call me Walter."

Harry nodded his head. "Okay then Walter." Harry remembered when he'd first met Oliver's dad who had said the same thing. Harry had ignored it deciding to use the man's second name as a show of respect. It was one of the things that had changed about Harry since then. He had been polite and Walter had asked him to call him by his first name so he would. Five years ago he wouldn't have done such a thing.

There was the sound of a door opening and closing from up stairs to which Oliver turned quickly and walked in the direction of the noise. He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and a broad grin spread across his face. Before Harry could say anything he heard footsteps and a girl that looked to be his age came running down the stairs and ran into Oliver's arms. "I knew you were alive" the girl said into Oliver's shoulder. "I missed you so much."

Harry couldn't make out whether the girl was crying or not but he knew that he suddenly felt very uncomfortable, like he was intruding on a family moment he shouldn't be in.

"I missed you too sis" Oliver said back still holding his sister tightly. Harry thought about backing out of the room but was stopped in his tracks.

"Thea this is Harry, he's your age and was on the island with me. Harry this is Thea my younger sister." Harry now felt very awkward as his brother introduced his sister to him.

"Hey" he said smiling at her.

"Hey" Thea said before turning back to her brother. "I missed you so much." Oliver hugged her again before he turned to Harry. "I'll show you where to put your things" he said and Thea pulled back from him. As Oliver left to show Harry his room Mrs Queen shouted up the stairs to him, "Tommy will be joining us for dinner."

Harry followed Oliver up the stairs running to catch up with him. They walked across the landing and Harry looked down and saw that the Queen family had separated out to get on with their own business. As they walked through the hallway Oliver said whose room was whose as they passed them. They stopped outside of the door next to Thea's. "This is my room and that is your room" he said pointing to Harry's room and opening the door. Harry walked into the room, shock clearly evident on his face. The room was massive compared to his last room back in England which he had considered to be big. It was bigger than the Gryffindor dormitory that Harry had stayed in at his first year of Hogwarts too.

"There's not much to it at the moment but as you get more belongings it will start to feel less empty and more…" Oliver hesitated and he searched for the right word. "Homey." Harry turned to Oliver not hiding his shocked expression.

"There's enough here" he said walking over to the bed and putting his own case on top of it. He looked around at the room catching Oliver's pleased eye as he did. "Thank you."

"You're family Harry" Oliver said taking a seat on the couch by the door. Harry watched him feeling something inside of him at that sentence. He took a deep breath and turned back to his bed.

"Still" he said back. "It's more than I deserve."

"Nope, if I remember correctly you saved my life on more than one occasion. So in my mind you deserve it." Oliver got up from the couch and walked over to the door backwards so he could look at Harry whilst he talked to him.

"Yeah but you saved my life more" Harry said thinking back to his time on the island. It was true, Oliver had gone out of his way to protect Harry everyday on the island and so had Harry for him. But that didn't change the fact that Harry had been the one that was more foolish and got himself into more difficult situations. Situations that Oliver had to then get him out of even if it put his own life at risk. Oliver had got injured on more than one occasion too because of Harry and in Harry's mind he'd always owe Oliver for that.

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. "We're brothers. That's what we do" he said. "If you need anything I will be in my room. I'll leave you to unpack. We'll be called when the food is ready."

"Okay" Harry said and Oliver left the room and went into his own, keeping both his and Harry's door open so that Harry could easily shout for him if he needed too. Harry took a seat on his bed and looked around the room taking everything in. Opposite the door was a large window that opened out onto a porch. To the left of the window was Harry's bed and two bedside cabinets, one on either side of the bed. There was also a cupboard for him to put his clothes in on the left side wall. To the right of the window there was a desk with a laptop sitting on top of it. In the middle of the room there was a couch and coffee table which left a large space next to his desk with nothing occupying it.

For several minutes Harry sat on the bed in silence before he turned around and unlocked the wooden case that was resting on the bed. He looked behind him to check that no one was around and then pulled the lid back to reveal the contents of the case. Inside there was a package wrapped up in his old red hoodie that contained and protected his black recurve bow and his arrows. Next to that was a knife that he had obtained on the island. Underneath the bow and arrows were his glasses, the metal rim bent and the glass in the frame cracked and near to shattering. The picture of him, Ron and Hermione was next to that, the picture he'd bought to the island with him and spent many nights staring at until he fell asleep.

Harry leant on his knees staring at the photo, emotions that he hadn't felt for a long time coming back to the surface. He wondered where Hermione and Ron were and what they were doing, whether they thought about him often like he did them. He also wondered how they were doing at school. Again, for a slight moment Harry thought about picking up a phone and making a call. Make a call and hear his friends voices again, people who knew what he had been like before the shipwreck.

Harry sighed and tapped the photo like he was going against every bone in his body and was trying to convince himself that he was making the correct decision. A big part of him wanted to call either Ron or Hermione just to hear a familiar voice but another small part of him couldn't. He knew it was stupid but he was scared about what would happen, what his friends would say. He couldn't bear the thought that his friends wouldn't like the new him. And he knew he had changed a lot in the past five years and the thought that his friends wouldn't want to know him now was unthinkable. If he didn't call them he wouldn't find out.

Harry stood up from the bed and grabbed the knife. He then walked over to the bedside cabinet that would be on his left when he was in bed and put it in the draw there. In that cabinet it would be more comfortable and a lot easier for him to get quickly if he was in bed and needed it fast.

Whilst he was by the cabinet he put the photo on top of it so he had free hands to open the window. When it was open he went and stood on the balcony, relaxing as the wind blew cold air against his face.

-o-0-o-

Harry felt the bitter wind brush against his face it stinging his skin that was already cold and wet. He was able to take a panicked gasp of air before he felt himself being dragged back under the icy ocean water against his will. He tried to open his eyes but closed them quickly after when the salt water stung them.

He swam upwards not knowing when he'd reach the surface of the water. As the seconds started to build up Harry felt his lungs burning for the oxygen that they desperately needed. The only thing he wanted was oxygen but he couldn't get that until he reached the surface of the water. His thoughts became mixed and confused at his lack of oxygen but he kept swimming upwards ignoring the burning ache in his arms, legs and lungs. He needed to get to the surface of the water and forced himself to open his eyes ignoring the stinging behind them. He could see the waves and he felt his head crest the water and without hesitation he took in a lungful of oxygen.

He felt his body turn freezing cold as he met the bitter wind. The twelve year old wiped his wet hair from his eyes and looked around trying to stay atop the water.

He couldn't see very far ahead of him because of the darkness. He could see the boat as it sunk. He heard the creaking and groaning as it seemed to split fully in two taking any remaining light with it went it was swallowed by the sea.

He swung around in the water, looking for something to hold onto, to keep him floating above the water but there was nothing around him that would be suitable. Ahead of him was a man who was floating on the water and Harry tried to swim over to him to help him but as soon as he tried to swim in any direction a wave came down on him pulling him under the water again for the third time. By the time he reached the surface of the ocean this time the man had disappeared and Harry noticed that he was even further from the sinking wreckage that had moments ago been a yacht.

As the seconds turned to minutes Harry felt fear and panic grip him and he grabbed onto any rubbish that came near him hoping it would be big enough to keep him above the salty water. Each time he did he would momentarily sink back under the water again and come back up gasping for air. He heard shouting behind him and saw a small life boat with three people aboard it, none of whom were related to him. One of them was struggling to get back into the water against an older man's grip and he was shouting at the adult.

Harry shouted at the top of his lungs hoping to be heard above the noise of the storm and wind, hoping that they would see him panicking in the water even when he was small and very unnoticeable. He waved in the air still shouting for help. One of the men in the boat tapped the adult that had been holding back a person on the shoulder and pointed in Harry's direction and Harry knew that he needed to swim over to them as they paddled the boat towards him. As he moved another wave came and crashed down on top of him. Harry felt himself go under the water again and tried desperately to swim back to the surface. He knew that if he didn't now then his chances of being saved would be lost. He saw someone jump into the water and help him swim to the surface where he was then helped into the boat, the man that had helped him following behind.

Crawling to the end of the life boat Harry turned around and saw that the man who had jumped in the water to help him was Robert Queen.

"Thank you" he said although he was sure no one heard him as whenever he opened his mouth he seemed to shiver uncontrollably. Slowly Harry pulled his knees up against him to try and stay warm whilst the other three men in the boat did their best to keep warm themselves. The only four survivors of the Queen's Gambit.