Fifteen year old Harry Potter sighed quietly as he entered the room, his two best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were flirting from their spot beside him. This year was too much for his poor brain to handle, and he had noticed some odd things lately, not like he would say anything of course.

For example, the fact that he had gotten himself sick was a rare occurrence. In the time that he had known of the Wizarding world, he had never gotten sick. That was, until last week when he woke up and bolted to the toilet for the first of many, many times. He had never been a child that was often sick, or when he was, he would still do his chores, and never rest.

But now…

It was dinner on a Friday, and he had been out of it all week, completely miserable, but not willing to miss any days that he didn't absolutely have to, and since the dragon lady, also known as Madame Pomphrey wasn't forbidding him to get out of bed, he knew that he would still go.

The only bad part was that people were getting suspicious because he had lost the ability to argue. To be truthful, if only in his mind, he was just too tired to worry about things like drama. He hurt everywhere, and his mind had been in a fog for the past few days, unable to do much more than just stare into space.

Harry suppressed a sigh when Ron and Hermione went to their usual seat, but Harry knew better than to follow them. Lately, the other Gryffindor's had been avoiding his eyes, and there was nothing he hated more than people hiding something from him, or blaming him for something he didn't do. He despised being called a liar, which was the true reason that he went off on Professor Umbridge on the first day of defense.

Carefully, he lowered himself onto the seat closest to the great oak doors, and put a small piece of skinless chicken on his plate, and a few boiled potatoes, unable to eat more than half of what he had on his plate in the first place.

After the first bite though, something went wrong. His stomach felt like it was going to rebel, and he got up, trying to leave before he puked on the floor of the great hall. Then, it stopped. Harry glanced around the room, trying to see if anyone had noticed the incident, but tonight, no one was paying attention to him. If they had been, they would have noticed how he had paled and bit his lip, feeling as though his back was being carved and something was being pulled out, such as his spine. If someone had been watching, they would have seen how Harry bit his lip, and tried not to make a noise as his body seemed like it was being doused in fire.

At another painful tug at his spine, he fell to the ground, this time catching the attention of the hall. This time, he couldn't suppress a scream of pain, a sound that would haunt certain people for week after.

A strange black light surrounded the young hero, and when he screamed again, this time louder, and less restrained, the whole hall was watching in horror. Some of them recognized the glow of magic, but most of the hall thought one thing: The Dark Lord had finally gotten their Savior.

After what felt like hours, but couldn't have been longer than a few minutes, Harry Potter fell to the ground, almost numb as he was finally released from the painful prison.

A few moments later, something brushed against his still sore back and he flinched violently forwards, about to fall yet again when a set of wings caught him. They looked like the wings of an angel, but with one difference, they were as dark as black ink, and they just so happened to be attached to his body.

He may not have known what happened, but he did know what caused it.

Magic.

He cursed quietly to himself and tried to move, succeeding, but with a price.

Gasping quietly, he felt something break open and blood oozing down his back, but for now, he encored it, having what he considered as determination, or stupidity, in his movements. He forced himself into a standing position, somewhat surprised when he realized that the wings actually helped with his balance.

Harry was about to walk out of the hall, trying to be unnoticed, but that apparently wasn't going to work, as the eyes of everyone in the great hall were already upon him.

Instead, he walked toward the headmaster, intent on getting answers from the old man.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He asked, trying not to flinch at the feeling of his throat, while trying to cringe at the sound of his voice. He sounded like a bloody girl. Hell, he sounded gayer than Malfoy, something that he hadn't thought was possible.

"That, my dear boy, was Magic letting us know what she thought of our treatment of you." The headmaster said slowly.

Harry took a deep breath and tried not to scream at the headmaster.

"In English please."

"You're a Kaizen, Harry."

The said boy tilted his head in confusion at the gasps from the students, and some of the teachers.

"A what?"

"Kaizen, Harry, a magical being that is created by a wizard who has already been through hell, and survived. Why didn't you say something, dear boy?" Professor Dumbledore asked, the twinkle completely out of his eyes as he looked every year his age.

"About what?" Harry was still confused. The term Kaizen had triggered something in his memory, he knew what they were, he just couldn't figure out exactly what he knew about them.

"Why didn't you tell someone about the abuse you suffered?"

Harry felt himself pale, but kept silent. He had no idea how the headmaster knew about that, but he certainly wasn't going to give himself away.

"I have no idea what your talking about, Headmaster." He said stiffly.

"A Kaizen can only be created when a wizard has been abused in every possible way, and has contemplated suicide."

Oh, he thought with a mental roll of his eyes. "I don't care about that part. What I want to know is why it felt like my spine was being pulled out of my back and I suddenly have angel wings."

"And fangs." One of the younger years said helpfully.

"And fangs." Harry agreed before pausing. "Wait, what?"

He lifted his hand to his mouth and felt something pierce his skin as blood flowed into his mouth. He pulled away the bleeding digit, and stared. Vampire. Fangs. What. The. Hell?

"Why do I… what the… oh boy…" he finally said, feeling like he was about to fall over. He had fangs. Why did he have fangs. This wasn't what he signed up for. "Please tell me that the fangs are just for show." He was mentally begging, but he made sure to keep his voice even.

"Actually, they're used for feeding, kind of like a vampire, except they have an aphrodisiac in them." Hermione told him. Harry wanted to cry, everything was out of control, but he just changed masks, from the golden boy to his Slytherin side. His expression was cool, like ice, but his eyes burned like green fire.

"Excuse me?"

"Some people believe that Kaizen are a type of vampire-veela mixture because their fangs and wings. But most people think that they are more of a mixture between Vampires and Fallen. Don't worry about blood lusts though. Kaizen don't have those, they only feed from their mates." She explained quietly.

Feeling like he had been a spectacle long enough, he gave the headmaster one last blank look before heading to the library. Not that anyone actually knew how much time he had spent in the library over the years. He kept close to the doors, flicking his hand since he knew no one else would be in there, and a single book came to him. He left a touch of his magic there so that Madame Pince would know who was there, and went out to the lake.

As soon as he had gotten to his usual spot, he just stared out at the lake, watching as the Giant Squid played in the water, and the merpeople settled against the sides of the lake, resting in the sun. Harry and the merpeople kept far away from each other, and he had never wished so hard that he didn't have magic.

Laying down on the cool grass, Harry stretched out, and laid his head in his hands, eyes starting to shut on their own, and he wasn't in the mood to fight it. Moments later, emerald green eyes shut, and someone covered in a cloak came out from the spot where they had been watching the young boy. Never before had he seen such beauty in either gender. Soft features, a delicate frame, full, rose pink lips, and long, thick, dark eye lashes. The young man slept on, feeling safe for the first time in his life, as the cloaked figure just kept every other living creature away from his beautiful mate.

Three hours later, Harry was shaken awake, the darkness of night surrounded him, and someone was standing over him. His breath stopped for a moment as he took in the beauty of the other male.

Slightly curly red locks, not like the Weasley's, but more of a crimson color, with pale skin, flawless, and eyes the color of perfect steel. But there was something more that caught his attention. A look in his eyes that expressed utter love and devotion for him. The man, stood, and offered Harry his hand, which he took without thought. This man wouldn't hurt him.

"Who are you?" He asked, figuring it was more polite than his other question of What are you?

"My name is Ryan, little one. I am an Elemental. You are my mate." Ryan informed him. Harry tilted his head for a moment, before recognizing the name.

"Isn't an Elemental a guardian of one of the nine elements?" Harry asked. Ryan nodded and gave Harry a small smile.

"Yes, I am one of the three guardians of Time."

"Why do I feel so safe around you?" Harry asked quietly, a blush took over his face and he lowered his head, hiding it in the shadows. Ryan stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around the younger male, before tilting his head slightly. Harry's blushed darkened, but he turned his face slightly. Soft lips met his, and he relaxed into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the taller males' neck. Their kiss was soft, but slightly demanding. Harry broke it so that he could stare into the eyes of this man.

"What is your name?" Harry asked again. He had a feeling that Ryan wasn't being truthful with him, which meant that Harry couldn't, and wouldn't relax into the kiss.

"I told you, little one, my name is Ryan."

"Your real name." Harry told the man

"My real name? As in my birth name? Why do you want to know that?" Ryan asked in astonishment. The boy knew that the Elementals were given a new name upon reaching maturity, which was the name he had gone by for many years now.

Harry gave the man a look, and Ryan understood. Taking a deep breath, he told him the name that he had forsaken when he found out about his elemental side. "Damian Joshua Wright."

Harry rewarded him by pulling him down for another light kiss.

"I like your real name better, Damian." He whispered against the other lips. Ryan, now Damien in Harry's mind, smirked against his lips and the two stood, arms wrapped around the other for just moments, but in that second, Harry had never felt so safe.

Special thanks to my awesome reviewers:

Flying Chrissy

Loretta537

Momocolady

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Murphy Annen Thiamine