To Harry tearing through the forest was a test on patience, not stamina. His body wasn't made to run at full sprint for more than five minutes, but the time he was wasting avoiding the surrounding flora was killing any hope he had left of saving any of the children.
It was torture to his nerve endings when Harry gave up on caring on his well-being. His skin being slashed by razor thin leaves and bruises forming from bouncing off surrounding trees, all Harry could pay attention to was the silence.
The gunfire had ceased.
'No!'
The denial echoed through his mind, refusing the truth. Unable to accept what he already knew Harry locked away his fears and ran even faster through the maze of trees and bushes.
When Harry finally reached the epicenter that held his fears he could only stand in horror for the first few moments.
He had entered into a small break in the trees, and in it there was what could only be described as a wooden hut. It was the size of a small house with large rectangular windows unframed running along the walls. It would have been a beautiful sight if it hadn't been infested with bullet holes everywhere.
Slowly coming out of his shock Harry noticed that the owners of the guns he had heard were obviously gone, probably in the direction of the destroyed trees if he had to guess which way.
Relieved that the threat was away for the moment Harry started to search for the children he heard screaming before.
Jumping over a thin branch while searching the ground around him Harry paused when he caught a blue foot in his peripheral vision. Turning too quickly Harry winced when his neck muscles started to cramp up in protest. Again ignoring his pain Harry stepped lightly, not noticing he had yet to undo his Feather Light charm, toward the young humanoid creature he had just discovered.
Finally coming to a stop mere inches from the obviously female creature Harry didn't try to stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Shaking and trembling with grief Harry cried as he bent over the poor girls head on his knees hoping to find even a small sign of life.
The little girl was very young looking, with a soft face and petite frame. She wasn't a human child though, so while she looked small for whatever her species was she was actually bigger than Harry was. At least seven feet tall her frame was very skinny, almost like she didn't get enough to eat or she was starved.
She also had light blue skin with faint strips running across almost all of it, Harry likened her skin with the fur of the tigers he had gotten a brief glimpse of on his cousin Dudley's eleventh birthday. Her skin was just as beautiful as their fur had been, maybe even more so.
Crying even harder now Harry couldn't help but wonder who would kill an innocent child like this, and in such a brutal manner. The little girl's torso was riddled with bullets, most of them hadn't broken through to the other side of her chest.
Curled up into a fetal position the girls face was scrunched up in fear, obviously the girl knew she was about to die and tried to protect herself from the pain she knew was coming.
Sobbing in anguish and gasping to fill his lungs with much needed air Harry reached out a trembling hand to brush away the girls long black hair which had been covering her eyes. Shaking even harder Harry stared into the girls wide open eyes, which were glazed over in death.
Her eyes were big and filled up most of her face, her irises were so large that Harry could barley see the whites of her eyes. She also had a large feline nose, again reminding him of the majestic tigers he had once encountered. All of her face was covered in small freckles, they glowed like stars in the night sky.
As Harry was gazing at the little girl he noticed her surprising lack of clothing, the only thing she had covered was her crotch.
Shaking with rage Harry's first conclusion on her lack of covering was rape. The vile creatures who had killed her had hurt her in a way he would never forgive them for, but as he looked around her body hoping to find the leftovers of her clothes so that he could give her some decency after death he noticed that there were no ripped clothes in the surrounding area.
Now weeping in relief Harry could only thank whatever higher power there was for saving her from that fate. Bringing his index and middle finger up to her eyes Harry gently closed them praying that she received a peaceful afterlife.
Standing from the girls body Harry continued his search for surviving children repeating the ritual he had performed on the little girl for each dead child he came across, noting that each shared tall frames, feline features, long dark hair, strips on their blue skin, severe lack of clothing, long tails with tufts of hair on the end, and three fingers for each hand.
All the children he found outside of the hut were dead.
Numb with horror Harry took his first step into the hut hoping that he would have more success than he had outside of it. The first things Harry's emerald gaze noticed were the letters of the alphabet decorating a cracked chalk board. It was the English alphabet, there were both lower case letters and uppercase letters all of them written in a neat script designed to help young children memorize their studies.
This hut was some kind of school.
Taking a deep breath to organize his thoughts Harry immediately regretted it as the smell of death and blood was more intense in this closed environment. Refusing to throw up on the floor of the once happy school, as depicted by the colorful drawings Harry could see hanging everywhere, Harry paced across the floor and around desks looking for bodies.
As Harry neared the front of the room were the chalk board resided He noticed a small wheezing sound coming from a large desk, probably used by the teacher. Increasing his speed Harry came around to the back of the desk with a small flame of hope burning in his chest.
There on the ground behind the desk were four figures. The wheezing figure was another little girl bent over the body of an older looking female, the girl was obviously panicking over the other girls stomach wound.
The older girl was still alive, but she was delirious and looked to be dieing a slow painful death. She was begging in a foreign tongue Harry had never heard before, and he didn't know any spells on language translation. Hermione had once tried to teach him one so that they could go holidaying in France, but Harry had only succeeded in getting his tongue to tie itself into a knot. She gave up teaching him that spell after he almost cut his tongue off when he got frustrated and mispronounced some of the vowels.
Unsure about his presence in this situation but unwilling to let the older girl die without at least trying to save her Harry spoke in the calmest voice he could muster and held his hands up in surrender.
"Please! Let me help her." He spoke in a rough voice unused to forming sounds any longer.
The younger girl whirled around in fright probably recognizing the language he used and paused before she could scream.
Harry was surprised, he had assumed the girl would either scream in terror because he looked like the muggles who attacked her or attack him for revenge of her fallen classmates, Harry had prepared a Leg-Locker curse in case it was the later.
Instead she looked like she didn't know what he was. Glancing down at himself Harry realized he was still covered in the black tar and had a green outline glowing around his form. Now that he was standing still the Feather Light charm had the adverse effect of making him float about two inches off the ground.
Combine all this together with Harry's bloodshot eyes from where he had been crying, it was no surprise that the girl looked like she was looking at a ghost.
Deciding to use his previous misfortunes to his advantage Harry inflected his next words and those following them with a bit of Parseltongue to add to his otherworldly appearance.
"I can help her if you let me near. She will die if you don't!" He spoke in a harsh tone conveying the seriousness of the situation, hoping to make the girl understand that there wasn't much time.
Clearly nervous in his presence, but no longer scared out of her mind the girl was seemingly convinced that Harry wasn't human but confused at his use of their language.
"She's my sister! She can't die! I need her!" The girl was now crying in grief as she spoke in broken English.
Her emotional trauma had finally taken hold and the little girl fell down in a dead faint. Catching her before she could hit her head on the floor and further injure herself Harry gently laid the girl on her side and patted her on the head, more for his reassurance than hers.
Now kneeling beside the dieing girl Harry contemplated what he could do to save her. He could gently summon the bullet in her stomach out and apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but their was no way of telling if she would bleed to death before he could stop the bleeding.
Knowing of no other way to save her Harry dug into his purse hoping Hermione had put something in it that could save her.
Reaching the end of his patience Harry was ready to try his original plan knowing every second wasted meant the girls chances of surviving decreased even further, when his fingers touched a single vial.
Pulling his hand back with the vial Harry read the sticker name Hermione had put on it.
Blood-Replenishing.
Heart leaping with joy Harry praised every deity he had ever heard of for giving him a genius for a friend like Hermione.
With this potion the blood the girl had lost already and would lose when Harry started his amateur surgery would be reformed like it had not fallen out of her body to begin with.
Needing a clothe to apply pressure with after he had removed the bullet Harry looked around for ones cleaner than the ones he was currently wearing. Seeing as the two girls themselves weren't really clothed in much, though they were more clothed than all of the other children if only a little, Harry turned to the other two figures lying next to them.
The first one he noticed was a younger male, maybe around the same age as the little girl. It looked like the boy was out cold, not dead or dying if his steady breathing could be believed. Seeing as the boy wasn't dying or wearing much Harry only spent enough time looking at him to notice the fierce scowl the boy wore on his face, truly a boy trying to grow up to fast in Harry's mind.
Turning to the second figure Harry saw what had to be the schools teacher. Shot in the shoulder the woman had probably fainted from shock soon after, the surprised look still gracing her face seemed to support his theory. Luckily she didn't look like she was dieing and the bullet seemed to have pass right through to the other side.
The woman was holding some ripped clothe to the wound itself, so she probably had some knowledge in healing. If Harry wasn't so sure that the woman wouldn't be fooled by his appearance like the little girl he probably would have revived her and asked her to help him with the girl.
Taking a hold of the woman's already ripped shirt Harry proceeded to follow in her example and ripped another part off for the older girl.
Turning away from the two figures and ignoring the little girl Harry started his operation. Focusing on nothing else he worked on the older girl for almost two hours, about half-way through the younger awoke but had kept silent and watchful after she saw what he was doing.
Finally when the older girl looked stable, meaning she was no longer bleeding to death and all of Harry's potion had been completely used up, Harry leaned back and wiped his bangs away from his forehead.
Hearing a sharp gasp Harry's gaze snapped to the little girl who was now looking at his old scar. Curious about what the girl found so fascinating about an old scar Harry chalked it down to her youth. Most kids her age thought scars were "cool" for some reason, it was bloody weird how some kids actually squealed in happiness when they found a new scar on their body.
The girl seemed to realize that she was staring and promptly her cheeks turned a faint purple color. Obviously embarrassed by her rudeness the girl started to stare at the floor and immediately looked up when she spotted some of her sisters blood.
Seeing the tears starting to fill her eyes Harry reached for the girl who was both bigger and taller than he was and promptly pulled her into his lap and started to hum a song he remembered Fawkes used to sing in the great hall during suppertime.
When the girl was calm again and seemed about to slip into sleep Harry roused her enough to ask for her name.
"Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, but you may call me Neytiri. My sister is called Sylwanin te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, I just call her Sylwanin."
Neytiri seemed to be happier when she was thinking about something other than what had happened, so Harry proceeded to ask her about her other two companions in the hope that she would stay calm.
"Our teacher is a dream walker, her name is Grace. The other is Tsu'tey, he is to be Olo'eyktan in future. He is also my intended, one day we will be mates before Eywa."
As she spoke her words became stranger and less understandable for Harry, but from what he could tell Neytiri was in an arranged marriage with the boy. Somehow from the look on Neytiri's face as she said this Harry could tell the girl wasn't happy with being forced to be his future mate.
From what Harry could tell about the girl so far he very much doubted she would take the unfairness of the situation lying down. Neytiri reminded Harry of himself at that age, forced to grow up too fast and expected to do a task that was seemingly impossible to do without dying first.
Only Neytiri wouldn't die physically like Harry, but emotionally and mentally.
Seeing that he was growing too close to the girl he had just meet Harry decided it was time to find her family and people, hopefully the four survivors would be safe among their own.
Shifting Neytiri off his lap Harry stood on his now numb legs, which were screaming at him for cutting off their circulation, and asked her how he could contact her family or get help.
"The warriors of our clan are on their way already. None of the children have returned to Home Tree, the clan will have gotten worried."
Neytiri seemed confident of her words, meaning they were probably true and that it was time for Harry to leave.
Harry looked like a human, the warriors would probably attack him on site once they saw the dead children outside. Looking at Neytiri and the three other creatures Harry felt a tug a his heart, then he felt a tug at his magic.
Jumping up slightly Harry told Neytiri that it was time for him to leave and that he didn't have much time left to talk with her.
With a slightly scared look on her young face the little girl lifted a single hand and stated solemnly,
"I see you."
It was the same feeling Harry got at the beginning of this journey when he knew he had to gather his precious belongings. He new he had to tell Neytiri the truth, even if he didn't understand it himself. Harry raised one hand solemnly and stated,
"I don't see you. Not yet Neytiri, but I will see you one day."
With that promise to the girl Harry's magic twirled around in his core cementing the vow. Harry knew it was foolish to make such promises, magical vows were serious and if he broke it Harry would die for it.
It was the right thing to do. Harry Potter wasn't a hero anymore, but he was a something and that something always tried to do the right thing. As Harry's magic once more transported him away, he couldn't help but wonder when he would meet the girl again.
He would meet Neytiri again, of this Harry was sure.