A/N: Okay, guys. A couple of things. First off, several of you have mentioned that Paul's last name is 'actually' Lahote. WRONG. Maybe it's Lahote in the movies, but this story is based off the BOOKS, where Paul is never said to have a surname. So I gave him a surname I thought sounded nice with his name, because I've never SEEN the last three movies, where Paul is featured. Secondly, I didn't know Paul Walker was an actor - I've never heard of him and I've never seen Fast and Furious. Third, I am not going to 'fix' something that's not 'wrong'. Sorry, you guys. -shrug-
Onto the story! You no-doubt remember that the original had a period in which Harry disappeared from like, August to December or January. I think he was tracking Bellatrix or somesuch, I dunno, but this makes a lot more sense to me.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Twilight or Harry Potter, and apparently I need to disclaim Paul's name now, too.
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The New Dawning
Chapter Three: The Departure.
"Health is not valued until sickness comes." ~Thomas Fuller
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August 10, 1999
Paul dropped onto his bed late the night after he'd had to run Seth's patrol. Running patrol twice in a row was not only a huge workout, but it was also very, very tiring. His eyelids screamed at him to sleep, but his chest had begun aching again and it was annoying him so, so much. He'd not had a chance to go back and try to talk to the Harry boy again, between running double patrol, his job at the garage (which helped him pay for this flat, since his mother kicked him out), and all the other seemingly simple tasks one has to do in a day. There just wasn't enough time. But he wanted to see the boy again, because now the imprint was really tugging at his mind and telling him, "this is who you love. There's nothing you can do about it. Stop fighting it."
And it wasn't really hard to stop fighting it, either, because Harry was...amazing. Well, from what Paul had seen, he was amazing. Though the man had never thought he liked other men, Harry was exactly perfect in every single way. Paul dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to get these thoughts out of his head. It was already bad enough that Leah and Embry had both seen everything he'd thought about Harry, because he and Leah had patrolled together yesterday and he and Embry today. And soon, no doubt, the whole pack would know that Paul had 'switched teams'.
After laying in bed for an hour, Paul groaned and sat up. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep, the man slid on some clothes and took off out the door, walking wherever his feet took him.
He wound up at the diner, probably because he couldn't stop thinking about Harry, and this was the first place he'd ever seen the boy. Paul decided he was hungry, anyways, so he stepped inside and went to order.
As he was waiting for Leah (who always purposefully slowed down when she saw Paul, just to irk him) to finish his order, Paul glanced around. There were a few cops, just finished with their shift, some sketchy-looking teenagers, a college student cramming for a test. In the corner was a head of black hair, not facing him, and Seth.
He nearly let out a loud groan of annoyance. But he didn't, and instead took his food to the table and asked Seth, "Can I sit with you guys?"
Paul was fully prepared to knock Seth's head into the wall if the boy said no, but instead the two boys in the booth just giggled together like a bunch of schoolgirls and then Seth slid over so there was more room for Paul.
A little worried now, Paul sat gingerly and glanced at the black-haired boy. Harry was looking at him, a bit demurely in Paul's opinion, with a tiny blush on his cheeks. Paul found himself extremely attracted to the other guy, but didn't act on it. He held out his hand, giving a somewhat forced smile.
"Paul Walker."
Harry's hand was small and cool in Paul's, but it felt kind of nice. "Harry Potter," he said, taking his hand back quickly.
Paul heard the accent again, and blurted out, "Are you British?"
"English," Harry corrected. "Though I suppose I am British, but my accent is English."
Paul smiled a little, then busied himself in eating his food because he was not liking the feeling in the pit of his belly right now. He'd never like a boy. These feelings were reserved for girls, which he'd liked plenty of. But not for boys. Except now they were? He was confusing himself and that wasn't good, especially in front of Harry.
"So, Paul," Seth said, and Paul didn't like the tone of his voice. "I'm going to teach Harry how to swim. Maybe tomorrow? Wanna come?"
Undoubtedly, Leah had let it 'slip' that Paul had imprinted on Harry. "Um..." Paul murmured.
"Oh, actually, Seth," Harry piped in. "I forgot to tell you, but I'm leaving for England tomorrow."
"Really?" Seth asked, pouting. "Why?"
Harry shrugged, uncomfortable. "I'm uh...going to visit Ginny's parents. Tomorrow's her birthday and we're all going to...going to spend it together."
Paul looked between the two boys, wondering who Ginny was and why she was important. But Seth just looked a little sympathetic and Harry was looking at his plate, which had a burger with two bites taken out of it and some fries on it.
"You should eat," Seth advised, not looking at Paul. "How long are you going to be gone?"
"Probably a few days. I'll stay with her family the first day and then visit Teddy – I told you about Teddy, right? – and maybe catch up with some friends," Harry muttered, picking at his fries. After a moment, he took the bun off of his burger and nibbled on it, but didn't really seem hungry and dropped it back onto his plate again. "It's really late. I should go," he finally mumbled, and Paul knew that the only reason he was leaving was because Paul was there and had made Seth ask a bad question by accident and now the whole mood was ruined.
"Bye!" Seth chirped, waving. "Call me when you get back, okay?"
"Alright," Harry called, waving and departing, fingers gripping a Styrofoam box with his leftovers in it.
Paul moved to sit opposite Seth, glaring a little.
"Who's Ginny?" he demanded immediately, as soon as Harry had left the diner.
Seth wiggled his eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Paul grasped the table, refraining from grabbing Seth. "I said, who's Ginny?"
Seth rolled his eyes. "Harry's ex-girlfriend."
"Oh." Paul relaxed, and then tensed again. "Girlfriend? I thought he was – that he liked guys? And why is he visiting his ex-girlfriend for her birthday?"
Seth snorted. "If you were nicer, maybe he'd tell you all of this himself. The only reason he's still not together with her is because she died."
Paul's shoulders slumped a little. Oh. That made sense.
"And he hasn't liked anybody since she died, so unless you're, like, super-awesome in his eyes, you've got no chance," Seth said, words intending to jab Paul a little. "Also, I hope you like kids, because as soon as he gets healthier, he's going to be adopting his godson. Who's two."
"Teddy?" Paul guessed.
"Bingo," Seth smirked.
"Balls," Paul replied, head hitting the table. He didn't particularly like children at all, actually.
"And he's also an anorexic insomniac," Seth continued. "Who may or may not be admitted to the hospital, based on if his doctors think he's healthy enough."
"Balls!" Paul repeated, louder, banging his head on the table for good measure.
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August 24, 1999
Though it was traditional for the wolf to bring his imprint to the bonfire for the first time, two weeks after Paul's first conversation with Harry found the boy being carted to the bonfire by Seth. This, of course, didn't sit well at all with Paul, and he kept glaring at Seth, but Sam kept glaring at Paul, and so Paul refused to allow himself to lose his temper.
Harry was just fascinated with the legends. Since going to England, the boy had been even smaller and more frail than Paul had ever seen – it seemed like a grain of sand would snap the raven-haired boy in two. But his face lit up as he listened, and he curled up in the sand close to the fire, because the night was chilly even at the end of August.
When the bonfire was over, Paul found Harry and Seth talking a little ways off, out of hearing range. Seth looked a little upset, and was flailing his arms as he often did to make a point. Harry's arms were crossed. It looked to Paul as if they were fighting, so he made his way over there in order to come to Harry's aid.
"Hey," he said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulder. The boy, who had been shivering, immediately stopped – he looked a bit uncomfortable, and definitely torn between pulling away and staying right where he was. It seemed like luck was on Paul's side, though, because Harry decided to stay. "What's wrong?"
"Paul! Tell Harry he can't go back to England," Seth cried, hands-on-hips. It was definitely a habit he'd picked up from Harry, because Seth had never done that before.
"What? You're going back to England?" Paul asked, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity to hide his panic. If Harry moved away... he wasn't even sure what happened to imprinted pairs who were separated for that long.
"It's not like it's my choice," Harry stressed. "I have to. Or they'll come here and get me and then leave," he said, shrugging. "Going of my own free will saves a lot of hassle. And tests to decided whether I'm sane or not."
Paul was lost, but Seth filled him in. "His doctors have decided he's not healthy enough to live on his own, and so he's been admitted to the hospital until he can gain at least–"
"At least twenty pounds," Harry said. Then, angrily, the boy pulled his shirt over his head. "Seth, you can count my ribs. I need to do this."
Paul was sickened, because Harry was right. He could see every rib, and on the boy's back you could count every vertebra in his spine.
Seth had turned somewhat green. He, apparently, hadn't known it was quite this bad. Harry tugged his shirt on, but it was crooked, and looked very upset.
"I thought you were eating," Seth accused.
"You try eating when all you see is blood and gore," Harry shot back, beginning to separate himself from Paul and Seth. "You try sleeping when all you can see is the faces of people you know who were murdered. Your friends and your family and complete strangers."
And then the boy was gone, down the beach and into the woods. For how skinny and sickly he was, the kid sure was fast, Paul thought.
He turned and grabbed Seth by his shirt. "Tell me what happened to him. Tell me!"
Seth struggled, whining low in his throat. "I don't know! I don't, I don't!"
Paul, disgusted, shoved Seth away from him and followed Harry.
But the boy was gone, which seemed impossible to Paul, and it would be months before they'd see him again.
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Review! C: Didn't notice how short this chapter was. O_O''