The Hunger, a Harry Potter + Mythology Crossover fanfic

Before modern man was man, there was hunger - and in that red place within us the curse incubates, transmitting silently through generations.

But the Hunger was born, not from the wind and snow and dark desires as so many Native American tales have it, but from a fatal flaw in the human heart. And from those too weak, or too strong, to allow themselves to suffer a final, horrible Death.

Harry Potter was once a normal child. Perhaps a little too shy, a little too beaten down, but with a bravery to overcome his unfortunate circumstances.

But such a luck could not last forever.

Then one day a cruel wind blew in from the north, and it came knocking with the snow, with it's gruesome demands. With...

THE HUNGER.

CHAPTER 1

"That nigh came the dreaded snow.

And before morning, a terrific storm came swirling and whistling down our snowy stairway,

making fires unsafe, freezing every drop of water about the camp,

and forever shutting us out from the light of heaven. "

-The Donner Party

"There he is!"

"GET HIM!"

Pat-Pat-Pat

Small feet pitter-pattered against the semi-frozen asphalt on Private Drive.

Crunch-crunch-crunch

The feet hit the road with rhythmical steps until he hit the rime-frozen grass, which broke and crunched under his feet even while he strove to keep his balance, as he deeply regretted ever helping that younger girl.

If only he had let them bully her, they wouldn't have targeted him instead. And he wouldn't be running for his life right now.

THUD-THUD-THUD

CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP

The thundering footsteps of his obese cousin and his gang thundered behind him, and Harry's breath came out in small huffs of air that came out like mist in the cold December air.

Little Harry was running. His small body heaving for air with every step.

This was a sadly common occurrence in Harry's young life.

Ever since he started school and his obese cousin Dudley had invented the game of "Harry Hunting", inviting the other bullies to join in.

What a thing to bond over...

For someone as fat as his cousin, Dudley was surprisingly quick on his feet. Then again, Dudley was surprisingly active for someone who could give the town's Prize Pork a run for it's money at the Farmer's Fair.

Harry was silently cursing to himself as he could hear his cousin gaining in on him, and his eyes desperately scanned the street for adults, finding non.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

He looked around, praying to whatever deity would listen for a place to hide. A shed, a house, small hole in a fence to slip through -anything!

He gasped for breath and groaned as he felt a stinging pain in his side.

He ignored the pain and pressed on, occasionally making a whimpering sound as he pressed his small body beyond it's limits to escape the far worse pain of his cousin's fists.

Then he spotted it!

A few loose boards in a fence not far from him.

He praised every deity that might listen, as he pushed the loose planks to the side, and forced his tiny little body through.

It was a tight fit, and he almost panicked when he felt himself get stuck.

He placed both hands on the fence and pushed and pulled and kicked his feet to get inside.

His little heart beat like a rabbits, and very nearly stopped when he heard his cousin's shouts behind him. But with one final, mighty push he was through, his small frame slipping through the crack and his quick feet lead him towards safety.

The fence would slow down the bigger boys, but he doubted it would stop them, or even hold off for long. He non the less took a few seconds to stop and catch his breath, the pain in his side hurting worse than it had ever done before.

He took off running as he heard the bigger boys start to pry the boards open further. It creaked and cracked, and finally it broke.

Jumping over the short fence between Mr. Martin's veranda and his back yard, Harry swallowed the lump building in his throat and pushed himself to run faster.

Oww.

His foot twisted as he landed on the frosty grass, and forced him to limp as fast as he could towards the back yard.

He needed a place to hide, and fast!

He reached the door only to discover old man Martin's had recently looped a chain across the door to his shed, and secured it with a padlock.

"No, no, no!" Harry whimpered, limping towards the door.

They'd have to jump over or slip through the fence at the end, just as he had, but it wouldn't hold them off for very long, and the whole man's backyard was a dead-end of tall hedges it would take an hour to dig his way out through.

He could already hear hid cousin's footsteps, thundering across the old man's veranda, cussing as he tried to climb over the same fence Harry had scaled so easily.

CLICK-CLACK-CLOMP

"Fucking shit-fence!"

"WE'LL GET YOU FREAK!"

Harry's heart beat like a mouse staring down a cat, and he ignored the scrapes and cuts and held his breath as he forced his chest inside the small crack.

The pain made him whimper, but he pressed on.

THUD-THUD-THUD

Harry finally got his scraped up chest inside as the gang's footsteps thundered across the frozen grass, but his oversized sweater snagged on a nail and he struggled to get it loose.

C'm on-c'm on-c'm on- PLEASE!

His panic reached new heights at the sound of their footsteps just behind the corner, and it robbed him of the reason and calm he'd need to do more than tugging and sobbing to get it loose.

Please-please-please-please!

Tears fell from his eyes, and he was close to give up when something gave, ripped and tore, and Harry tumbled inside, knocking his head against the wall in the dark.

"Oowf," he rubbed his head and quickly got to his feet to pull the door shut.

Then he hunkered down underneath the table and waited.

Thud.

"Over here! He went in this direction!"

"Dumbass!" someone laughed, "It's a dead end!"

"We got him now!"

Harry pushed himself against the wall under the table in the shed and held his breath.

Thud.

"Where'd he go?!"

"Stupid freak's proboably hiding. Check the bushes!"

"What about the shed!"

Harry pressed his hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, muffling his tiny little whimper.

The chain on the door rattled.

Someone pulled at the door, shaking it.

Harry's breath shook, and he had to force himself to stay still. His little heart beat so loud he feared his cousin would hear it.

Ba-bump-Ba-bump-Ba-bump

"Moron!" the voice said, and Harry heard the slapping sound of a hand hitting the back of someone's head.

"Shut up! He's a skinny little fucker! How d'you know he ain't there?!"

"Not even the little freak could fit in there!" Dudley's voice spat.

THUD!

The sound of a foot hitting the door made Harry stiffen, his breath catch.

"Dumbass," someone muttered.

"Spread out! He can't have gotten far!"

The bickering voices started to fade and spread out, and Harry let out a great, big sigh of relief.

Still, even as the footstep faded, it would be a long time before Harry dared to sneak back out -and finally go home.

Not that home was all that much better...

"Horrible weather this winter," Vernon grumbled from behind the newspaper as he stuffed more bacon into the gaping maw that was his mouth.

"I know. Why, Mrs. Jones told me the government might even demand car-owners to buy snow tires! Snow tires! Like we're made of money!"

"Pah. Not like they'll notice if we go without it. I ain't paying for something we don't really need," Vernon growled.

"I don't know, Vern. It's been unseasonably cold and the weatherman said their was a storm coming. Something far worse than the usual hint of frost here and there. He said it might even be snow. Lots of it," Petunia sipped her tea, her brow furrowed.

"Better get the family new winter-clothes then," Vernon acknowledged. "The ones from last year seems to have shrunk, both mine and Dudley's," the big man said with a glare towards Harry, as if it was somehow his fault they ate enough to support a small African tribe.

Or a large one.

"We'll need to start the crismas shopping soon anyway. I'll put it on the list," Petunia said, before moving over to the fridge to add her scribbles to the ever-expanding shopping list.

"I want more bacon!" Dudley interrupted, banged his fat fists on the table, his budding double-neck shaking with the indignance of not having it right now.

Harry flipped the bacon, and he couldn't help but wonder... If Dudley ate enough bacon would he eventually turn into a real pig?

He focused extra hard on the frying-pan to hide an amused grin from his so-called family.

"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must feed you up while we've got the chance … I don't like the sound of that school food …"

"Boy! Get Dudley more bacon!" Petunia turned her giraffe-like neck towards Harry to send him a glowering glare at being too slow to act before he even knew an order was given.

Harry rushed over to fill the plate of the fat pig with the meat of a real pig. He was sure one day he wouldn't be able to tell Dudley from a real pig if he kept eating like that.

The delicious, fatty scent of his cooking made Harry's mouth water, and he could not help but wonder if it wouldn't be worth the punishment to taste a small slice of bacon just once.

But he shook himself of the notion with more self-control than one could expect from a boy of nine and three months, he swallowed hard and went back to cooking.

But oh, how wonderful it would be to give in...

He also knew that the walrus by Dudley and Petunia's side would demand an extra serving of black pudding any minute now, so he quickly added a few slices of that to the hot frying-pan.

Harry had learned to anticipate their needs, least they turned their purple-faced anger on him.

Again.

"Too true, Pet. That primary school food can't hold a candle to Smeltings," Uncle Vernon said with a jovial laugh, his round belly shaking the table with each wheezing laugh.

"Dudley needs food to grow up strong, don't you, son?" Petunia smiled down at her treasure and stroked his hair, only to have her hands batted away.

"Moooom!" Dudley complained with the dissatisfied air of someone spoiled with everything but his own accomplishments.

Harry wasn't sure what was larger; Dudley...or his ego.

But if Dudley kept up eating like a farm-animal, Harry was pretty sure he knew what the answer would be.

It was one of THOSE days. When the cold and snow bit at fingers and froze toes straight off the feet if you outside for too long.

The frozen winds howled and caused houses to set and creak, and kept small children up at night the way it sounded like hungry wolves ready to chase down the weak and slow.

Even in the daytime the storm did not let up, even if it was not quite bad enough to close the school just yet.

In the corner of the school-yard a small, skinny boys stood, arms crossed and teeth clacking in the chilly wind. And starting.

Starting and envying his cousin's nice, warm North Face jacket. The kind with doe feathers and a brand name that made people like you just cuz you had it.

His cousin was a big, beefy boy no older than Harry, but definitely thicker. His cousin had lots of fat that would keep him warm, unlike Harry.

Dudley was currently in the process of bragging about how he stole some kids lunch-money, and Harry felt a sting of sympathy for the poor kid who had to go hungry today, just like him. Not that Harry was given any lunch money to begin with, nor allowed any lunch.

Harry felt his stomach rumble slightly, and he was almost looking forward to go home where he could be indors -or at least get warm by shoveling the snow off the driveway. And eat. Or at least get the scraps left from the meals he cooked.

He rubbed his arms in an effort to get warm, watching his breath turn into fog as it escaped his mouth. He clenched his teeth to stop them from clacking as his body shivered in the cold air.

The freezing cold air was something new and strange to Harry, as Surrey rarely got quite THIS cold in winter. And unlike Dudley, his family didn't think Harry was worth buying new things for.

Harry's lips were slowly turning blue, and there was still another five minutes left before the teachers would let them back in. Even in this weather, the teachers of Surrey Primary School were of the opinion that children needed fresh air more than they needed heath and comfort.

Harry was inclined to disagree.

He stared at his cousin's coat, and wish he was wearing it. And that he was the one wrapped up nice and warm while his cousin was the one freezing.

It was a desperate wish. The kind that digs deep into flesh and bones and twists reality with it's very desire.

And because this particular little boy had the dubious luck of being able to twist and bend reality to his will with a strange power that kept getting him into trouble, the magic in his bones and soul responded to his increasingly desperate wish.

And then he was warm.

Harry nearly jumped in surprise, smiling as he felt the cold wind kept at bay, the nice heat spreading through his body.

And then he heard a shout from his cousin, and he just knew he'd pay for this small comfort tenfold...

"Hey! Where's my new jacket?!"

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what was going on. And he touched what had once been his bare arms, only to find a soft warmness.

Dudley's jacket!

He swallowed hard and felt his blood run cold as he realize he'd somehow done something freakish yet again.

He hurried to take it off, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could pretend Dudley had left it on the-

"HEY! FREAK! GIMME BACK MY JACKET!"

His last arm was still halfway in the sleeve as his cousin strode towards him, cracking his fists.

"I didn't mean to!" he quickly said, throwing the jacket at Dudley with shaking hands. "It just-" he snapped his mouth shut, realizing that admitting the freakish accident might be way worse than letting the boy think he stole it.

"You little thief," Malcolm said as he towered over him, cracking his fist with an ugly grin.

Dudley grabbed Harry by the ratty old sweater he wore, and raised his fist menacingly.

Harry closed his eyes, bracing himself for the painful punch he knew would follow, hoping to whatever gd that might be listening that he didn't break his glasses this time around. Vernon would be furious.

DRRRRIIIIIINGGGG

The school-bell rang, and Dudley tightened his fist, nearly strangling the smaller boy. Before reluctantly letting him go.

"This isn't over! Once school's out-" the big tub of lard threatened, pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand to underline his point.

Harry curled halfway over himself, arms crossed over his stomach, as he slumped towards the school building like a prisoner on his way to the executioner.

'I am so screwed.'

Harry watched as the other children rushed out the door after school into the cold winter air, and he hesitated.

His fist squeezed the strap of his backpack, and he placed a small hand on the big, square handle to the school door and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

He pushed the door. Stopped. His hand still on the handle.

Maybe I can avoid them if I go out the back door instead?

"Why are your still here? School's out. Chop-chop," a stern female voice sounded from behind him.

The math teacher.

"Sorry Miss Wilson. I just thought I might have forgotten my book in the classroom," he lied. The lie flowed off his tongue with easy practice.

'Never let the teachers suspect. It'll only get worse if they tell aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon.'

He knew this from experience.

Miss Wilson stared at him with a suspicion that told him she did indeed believe everything his aunt had said about him, and did therefore not believe a word he himself said.

"If it's there, you can get it tomorrow," the teacher said in a voice that brooked no arguments.

The 'go home' was left unspoken, but was non the less heavily implied.

"Yes, miss Wilkins," Harry said, then turned towards the door again.

Conjuring up all the bravery his little body could muster he pushed the door open and stepped outside.

The chill that ran down his spine as he stepped outside was not purely from the unseasonably cold weather nor the icy wind.

His eyes fluttered across the schoolyard, and his hear beat like a frightened bird. He knew all too well what awaited him beyond the school gates, once he was out of view from any adults.

It was not the first time did he cursed the tall, unclimbable metal fence that surrounded the school. The adults all claimed it was to protect the children, but to Harry it had always been a way to keep him trapped with the dangerous beasts that ruled this prison of a school.

For something created for the sake of safety it had never kept him safe.

Nothing ever kept him safe.

Even the coppers believed his aunt and uncle over him. And the one time he'd tried to ask for help from a teacher he was quickly rebuffed and told to stop causing trouble for his family.

Harry had never asked for help again.

And right now, standing in the all but empty schoolyard, he could see his fat whale of a cousin bashing a fist against the palm of his hand and staring right at him, malice gleaming from his tiny little pigs eyes.

But with the teacher was standing right behind Harry and glaring at them, they slowly started walk away. Shooting Harry hostile glances as they left.

Harry hoisted the well-worn backpack onto his shoulder -ready to drop it at a seconds notice if they gained in on him.

Vernon would be angry if he lost it, but he could always come back and find it later. Dudley would never stop a chase to destroy his things, he knew that from experience.

And unlike Dudley his uncle had never physically beaten him up...Yet.

He still didn't want to drop it unless he had too, but Harry was a bright kid with far too much experience than any kid should have in running away. So he knew that sometimes you just had to do whatever it took to escape.

The promise of pain and potential death loomed over his head as he hurried out of the school, wondering what path he could take that would throw his cousin of long enough that he'd get bored and leave him alone.

"There he is!"

"GET HIM!"

Harry was silently cursing to himself as he could hear his cousin gaining in on him. His eyes fluttered across the snow-covered roads as he ran, but to no avail.

Not a single adult was out in the slowly growing blizzard, and Dudley and his gang were slowly forcing him to run towards the empty outskirts of town.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Harry looked around, praying to whatever deity would listen for a place to hide. A shed, a house, small hole in a fence to slip through, a cave, anything!

He felt a metallic taste in his mouth as he heaved for breath. His cousin was probably left behind a long time ago, but Malcom wasn't the captain of the football team for no reason, and his feets were longer than Harry's too.

He threw his little backpack towards the tree-line, but he doubted that would fool them for long. The snow left clear footprints, and the snow was fresh and new around him.

He forced back tears and he chocked back a terrified sob.

His breath came out in harsh rasps as he pushed his little body to the limits, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. He didn't dare to look back, but he could hear by the shouting that they'd catch up if he stopped now.

But this time there was no friendly fence with a hole in, and the forest was too far away. So he did the only thing he could think about doing...

He entered the old, abandoned cemetery, and hoped and prayed there would be some kind of place to hide amongst the gravestones and tombs where his cousin and his gang could not find him.

Or that they'd be too scared of the spooky things he'd overheard them talk about when they thought no one was listening. He shuddered as he recalled it, but bravely pushed through.

If he stopped now, something far worse than ghosts would get him for sure.

His small feet sank into the snow until he found the footsteps of an adult to step into, jumping from one footprint to another, hoping to confuse his cousin when he caught up.

He quickly jumped onto a fresh path of footprints and with his heart beating in his throat, he rushed towards one of the many tombs that the wealthiest families used.

Please-please-please

THERE!

A crack!

Harry sent a grateful thought to whoever made him so much smaller than his cousin and pressed himself in between the stone door and the wall that marked the tomb's entrance.

STUCK! NO!

Please-please-please!

Tears fell from his eyes, and he was close to give up when something gave, and Harry tumbled inside, knocking his head against something in the dark.

A small amount of snow drizzled off the over-snowed roof behind him, and the crack had opened marginally wider to fit him.

Watching the opening he quickly realized that his cousin would find him if he didn't close it quickly. So he jumped back to his feet with a chocked whimper and hurried towards the stone door to press it shut.

He tugged and pulled and shook the tomb door with all his might, the yelling of his cousin and his bully friends growing ever closer.

C'm on-c'm on-c'm ON!

With a last heavy tug that sent him tumbling against the wall of the crypt he managed to shake it look and pull it a fraction closer.

As he rubbed his sore head he heard a deep cracking noise, followed by a FWOMP! and the door slammed shut.

Safe.

For now...

"Where is he?!"

"Not here, that's for sure."

"Or here."

"Did you check all the gravestones?

"Yeah, 'sides, can't see any bloody footprints we haven't followed! Half of 'em leads out anyway."

"How 'bout the big path of 'em? Over 'ere?"

"No good, the door's snowed shut. Can't be in there either."

"The other crypts are all shut tight. No way he's in there!"

"Probably too scared to hide there anyway."

"Spread out, he can't have gotten far!"

A big grin stretched across Harry's childish face, and he had to cover his mouth with both hands to not giggle and give himself away.

They can't find me! I'm safe!

Harry felt joy bubble up inside him, and it was enough to keep even the cold of the winter wind off his mind. He covered his wide grin and let out a quiet chuckle as he heard their yells move around.

It was cold tho.

He gave a slight shiver and curled up on top of the big stone coffin that stood right in the center of the room. It was off the floor and slightly warmer than the rest of the room, and his big clothes worked well enough to keep the chill of winter at bay.

Harry yawned and covered his mouth with his hand as he laid down and got comfortable.

He knew from experience it might be a long wait...

Harry woke up shivering in the cold darkness. He pulled the sweater closer around him.

Why was it so dark?

He lifted his eyes towards the small slits near the roof of the tomb, and saw the snow whirl past a black blanket covered in small, shimmering stars.

Oh, no! He'd fallen asleep and overslept!

Vernon would get SO mad at him!

He chocked back tears at the thought of what his uncle might do and pushed himself up from the lid of the stone coffin he had been lying on. He rubbed his arm to get rid of the cramp, and shook his legs as he got up.

He quickly moved to push the door open, eager to get back home so his punishment wouldn't be too bad.

He pushed the big stone door with all his might.

"Huff...HFFFF..."

He leaned his entire bodyweight on it and pushed.

"HNNNNNNGGG..."

It didn't budge. It felt as if something was blocking the door. Something big.

Fear rose up like bile in Harry's throat and his stomach clenched and curled up on itself like a terrified animal.

He bashed his tiny little fists on the door, making virtually no sound against the heavy stone.

"HEEEELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"I*M STUCK IN HERE! PLEASE HELP!

"HEEEELP!

"ANYONE?!"

"PLEASE! HELP ME! HEEEELP!"

A loud sob tore from his throat as he frantically bashed the door again and again as panic overtook his common sense.

Harry bashed and bashed until his hands were red and sore.

He screamed and sobbed until and his throat were dry and raspy and felt like sandpaper until he could barely croak out another sound.

But nothing worked.

No one came.

No one.

"Please help..." he sobbed weakly as he slid down the unmoving door to the cold, frozen floor, pressing his small fists under his glasses to wipe away his tears.

He shivered and wrapped his hands in the sleeve of his sweater, still sniffling.

When he had been frantically bashing the door, at least the activity had kept him somewhat warm. But now that he was exhausted, sitting on the stone cold floor with the wind occasionally blowing small dashes of snow into the small room, he started to shiver again.

Little Harry felt colder than he had ever felt in his young life.

His lips were slowly turning a pale shade of bluish purple and his tiny body shook with the cold. He clenched his teeth to stop them from clattering wildly.

His stomach gave a rumble that reminded him that he was hungry as well, but that seemed such a small and insignificant detail compared to the fact that he was trapped her, inside a tomb.

He swallowed a few times, letting out a small chough as he felt the dryness burn in his throat, and his small hands hurt from bashing the door, a scattering of bruises already visible against his pale skin.

A strange, creaking sound caused him to jump and move further away from the coffin.

What if there were ghosts here? Or vampires?!

What if he was trapped in with something that was going to eat him?!

And for the first time in his young life he gave up all hope and just cried, curled into a tight bundle in the corner of a dark and forgotten crypt.

Why am I always the one to be bullied and beaten and yelled at?

Why can't I be the strong one for a change?!

Why am I the one trapped in a creepy cemetery in the dead of night with all the scary ghosts, when Dudley lies wrapped in warm blankets in his big bed, being read to sleep by his mommy?!

Why couldn't Dudley be the scared one, the one who other people picked on and hated, just ONCE?!

Why couldn't Dudley be the one trapped in this cold and dark place with no light, and only a stone coffin that maybe had a scary zombie that would eat me, for company?!

It wasn't FAIR!

Harry sobbed silently, curled up as far away from the maybe-zombie, maybe-ghost coffin as he possibly could get. And the last thought on the little boy's mind before exhaustion finally lulled him to sleep was...

I'm gonna die in here.

Alone.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little Horror story. Do check my Author Profile for any questions of what kind of story it will be.

This story is planned as a Harry/Hermione story, for reasons that will later be revealed.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think I could have done better, and what you liked best.

I aim to improve.

-Sam Krieg