Author's Note: So this is my response to DZ2's Emerald Arrow Challenge, and one that I'm really contemplating on expanding. Mostly because I do archery as a hobby and am often at the range after a busy day to shoot and unwind. It will not be a true crossover, but one of the most badass Archer be making his appearance. Also the magic archery system used would once again come from a videogame, Dragon's Dogma, class. Magick Archer.
The day started out just as every day he could remember had started. The rattling of chains was the first thing that he head. The dull screeching as a heavy and slightly rusted bolt was flipped up then shimmied from its position. By this time what little sleepiness remained was gone, as he sat up on his little bloodstained mattress. When the screeching stopped the door to his prison that he knew as little home was thrown open as a rough hand grasped him by the front of his shirt and yanked him out into the light. The harsh transition from darkness to light burned his eyes, blinding him for several seconds as he blinked the spots away.
From there his meager body was dragged to the bathroom where he was given 5 minutes to finish his morning ablutions. The ice cold shower, as freaks like him were not allowed the comfort of heat, shocked his body into alertness. Exactly 5 minutes passed before the door was roughly opened and he was hauled into the kitchen by his aunt, who threw a list of chores to be completed before everyone else woke up. Basic chores like throwing out the previous night's trash, to polishing the shoes of his fat uncle Vernon and the piglet Dudley. After completing his chores, the sun just began to rise, and he was made to begin breakfast. What might have been something that he could enjoy turned into a tedious and monotonous hassle. Every day, he cooked the same thing, in large enough portions to feed a squad of men. Entire packages of bacon carefully crisped in a cast iron skillet, dozens of cracked eggs fried in the grease of the previous day's bacon, slices of fried toast with butter, countless links of fried sausage, and finally a pot of baked beans, all washed down with copious amounts of tea.
He grimly wondered how long it would take for his Uncle to keel over from a heart attack, and at the rate his cousin was growing he wasn't far behind. While the rest of his 'family' dined on his cooking with nary a compliment, just ordering for him to cook some more, he was relegated to simple toast, water and if he was lucky a small bit of butter or cheese. That was fine for him, he'd gotten used to the meager scraps he was given. He'd prefer the simple but energizing meal to the fried foods with all the grease that would eventually harden his cousin's arteries and cause a heart attack. At least he was no longer forced to live off cheap hardtack made from the cheapest flour his aunt could get her hands on, salt and questionably clean water.
After they finished eating, he immediately got to work cleaning the dishes and the kitchen, moving as quickly as he could since school would soon begin. Donning the rags that were Dudley's castoffs, he couldn't help but sigh at the state of his dress. The only way to describe his state was swimming as there was about a five size difference between him and his cousin. Unlike his cousin who was driven to school by Vernon everyday and thus was unhurried, he had no such luxury as he began the 5 mile trek to school.
He used only one path to get to school, following main roads and leading to high visibility areas where the chances of him running into the seedier elements of the city were greatly diminished. However it seemed like today, Fate had decided to have some fun with him, and decided to see how miserable she could make his day. Jogging out from #4 Privet Drive, he almost immediately got run over by a passing car, his heart pounding he slowed his pace just enough for him to make it to school, but slow enough to calm his heart. His next problem was when he hit the main road only to find it blocked off as a mass casualty incident took place in the form of a 5 car pileup.
Having been diverted by the bobbies to the winding side streets he couldn't help feel a shiver run down his spine. Cautiously taking a step into this new path, a small bit of fear clenching at his guts, he was no longer worried about getting to school on time but just getting to school was his new priority. Slow and steady wins the race, that was his new motto, as he seemingly jumped at every new sound.
It wasn't like it was a seedy part of the city, he was mostly walking in a residential area, but it was the fear of the unknown that was getting to him. The primal fear, the silence and lack of people, so different than what was supposed to be. He was brought out of his musings (read: fear) by a dull sounding Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. An unknown sound repeated for a total of six times before it stopped for a several seconds, then it repeated. Listening to the constant rhythm he found his heart calming a bit, as he moved closer to the sound.
Peering through the wrought iron bars that made the fence he saw the sound coming from a simple yet large house, and one thing that he immediately noticed was the size of the yard. To him it was the most green he had ever seen for one house. His eyes flashed as he caught sight of what was making the sound bury itself into a target. An arrow. He watched in awe as arrow after arrow was sent hurtling into the bullseye. The grouping was so tight that some of the arrows shaved parts of other arrows off, and one even hit dead center on the knock and partly split it. Turning to the other side of the makeshift range he saw the archer, his bow still extended held gently in his left hand while his right was in the air after his follow through.
"Woah." He couldn't help himself.
Unfortunately it also drew attention to him, and in the blink of an eye there was an arrow streaking towards him. Yelping and falling on his butt as the arrow glanced off the fence and ricocheted to land inches away from him.
"Who's there?" A hard voice asked. He tried to scramble back, but failed as the archer seemed to appear in front of him with a small pop. A hand darted out and seized him by the shirt, hauling him to his feet. "How did you get here?"
Looking up Harry saw the archer's white hair, tanned skin and steel grey eyes boring into his. He was dressed in a black and silver body suit that showed off rippling muscles. Seeing his hesitation, the man released his shirt and backed off a few inches. "You mute kid? Or are you going to answer me?
He shook his head as he stepped back from the man. The distance between them was still small enough that he could cross it in a single bound.
"Look kid, I'm sorry about almost shooting you with an arrow, but you surprised me." The man sighed. "Mundanes shouldn't be able to enter here, so that begs the question, why are you here?"
"There was an accident on the way to school." Harry spoke up hesitantly. "I had to take a detour."
"Then my shooting drew you in huh?" Harry nodded hesitantly, never taking his eyes off the black metal bow than man held. He followed Harry's eyes, hefting the bow so that the boy would be able to get a better look. "It's rather simple, something that a person can make themselves. At least the wooden version, this is a metal self-bow and requires more specialized knowledge to build."
"Why's it black?"
"Because black is better, and black oxide helps protect the metal." The man replied nonchalantly. "Do you want to try?"
He nodded, unable to pull his gaze from the weapon. To him it was magnificent, even if the man called it simple. "Here, hold this for now, I'm sure I've got a beginner's bow somewhere around here."
The man handed Harry the black metal bow. He couldn't help but compare the bow to the boy's own height. The boy was probably only 4'5" and his bow was almost a good foot and a half taller than him.
Harry watched the man's retreating form, clutching the bow in his hands. For some reason he could feel a connection to the weapon, and as he ran his hands along the warm metal body he couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through him.
The man returned carrying another black bow, this one a recurve, its ebony limbs and riser glistening with wax. "Magnificent isn't it." The man asked handing Harry the ebony bow and taking the metal one back. "Have you ever shot before?"
Harry shook his head. "I've seen the older students practice with them but the teacher said that we're too young."
"Nonsense. Back in the old days there would boys your age whose lives depended on being able to use the bow." The man said. "Here let me show you."
The man brought him over to a white line about 5 yards away from the target. "Straddle the white line. Your body should be perpendicular to the target. Personally I prefer a more open stance compared to a more traditional stance. The difference between the two is your lead foot and where it points. If it points to your target that means it's an open stance, and if it's perpendicular then it's a square stance. Now nock the arrow onto the bow string, make sure the nock is underneath the brass marker. Good now to draw the bow back place one finger above the arrow and the rest underneath. Then in one smooth motion draw the string back and anchor it at the corner of your mouth. To release slowly open your hand and allow the arrow to fly."
Harry did as to man said, but just as he was about to release the man said. "Hold, calm your breathing, visualize the target. Focus until there's nothing but the target. Believe in yourself, no matter what happens the arrow will hit. Cause and effect are reversed as soon as you let go of the string. It is not a matter of the arrow being released and the target is pierced but the target is pierced therefore the arrow must've been released."
"Now, release." At that command, Harry let the string slip through his fingers, and the arrow disappeared in a blue streak slamming dead center into the target.
"Good." The man said. "Shouldn't you be heading to school already? Won't your teachers miss you?"
Harry shook his head. "They won't. To them I'm just another Freak, a troublemaker."
The man winced, saddened that someone could treat a child like that. He took a closer look at the boy, noting the large clothes, the somewhat dirty face, and how skinny the boy was. Neglect, possibly abuse. He thought grimly. Maybe the boy would open up to him if he relaxed and shot some more. If it is what I fear, I'll pass the information to some of my colleagues.
"What's your name boy?"
"Harry Potter, sir."
"From now on Harry come where after class. I'll teach you how to shoot and how to discipline yourself."
"Why?"
"Because it'll be good for you. The mental discipline by itself acts to calm you, and I'll be applying Eastern practices into the shooting regimen."
"What's your name? I'm sorry I forgot to ask before."
"You can call me Archer, Harry. Now why don't we have you put some more steel down range."
Challenge Information
Plot: When Harry witnesses the art of archery in a book/film/trip etc. he decides to explore this new form of combat: guess what? He's actually pretty damn good.
Rules: Light, Grey or Dark Harry
As the plot states, Harry must either read about or see archery in action in a film, book, comic, out in the schools etc.
Harry's bow and arrows must be somehow magical e.g. the bowstring doesn't break, he never runs out of arrows etc.
When Harry goes to Hogwarts (even if it's before or after first year), his bow and arrows go with him
Harry somehow discovers Archer's Magic what this may be is up to you
Sirius becomes free
Guidelines: Harry discovers the art before Hogwarts
Harry adapts his archery for other 'ranged/projectile' weapons e.g. shurikens, throwing stars etc.
Crossovers
For some weird, but funny reason, Harry NEVER misses his target
Harry doesn't fight Voldemort or Dumbledore, but prefers to be a silent observer - like an archer, silent and ready
All pairings are welcome
If/When Harry draws Gryffindor's Sword, it somehow fuses its magic with his bows/arrows
Forbidden: Harry relying solely on magic
Even if he's Light or Dark, Harry doesn't side with either Dumbles or Tom
Golden Trio: Harry's skill with the non-magical weapon makes them jealous/frightened/angry at how he shows them up