The Hunt – Harry Potter.
"Harry Potter? Stay behind please".
Cringing already, Harry ignored the sniggers and smirks of his fellow classmates – led by Dudley, of course – as he finished shoving his school book into his ratty worn backpack.
This was it, wasn't it?
Mr Smith was the only teacher at Little Whinging Primary School that didn't hate him, he was the only one who could see through the lies of Dudley and the Dursleys. And while he'd just started to open the rest of the teacher's eyes to Dudley's misbehaviour and Harry's own innocence, it didn't matter because just like everyone else who claimed to care about him he was leaving.
They always left.
Twitching as footsteps moved to stand in front of his desk, Harry kept his eyes locked firmly on the wood of the desk, letting them roam over the defaced (By Dudley, naturally) 'Harry Potter' sign each desk in the room had.
"Look at me, Harry".
Shifting nervously, the young black-haired boy peered up at the teacher through his fringe, avoiding the man's eyes and instead focusing on his well-combed brown hair so he could pretend he was obeying.
"My eyes, Harry".
Tensing up as Harry finally moved his green eyes to Mr Smith's brown ones, he flinched again at the look in them.
"You do understand why I'm leaving, don't you?" Mr Smith asked as he pulled a chair over and sat in it, looking funny with his knees up high. "You do know it's not because of you, right? I have to finish my degree before I can come back, then I'll be your teacher full time".
Nodding weakly, because he believed Mr Smith but at the same time didn't, Harry flinched again as a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Harry. Look at me," Mr Smith instructed, making Harry lift his head up again from where it'd dropped. "Remember what we've talked about, okay? Promise me that you'll never let the Dursleys break you, you're worth so much more than them, and I mean it. You have a light inside of you, something so bright it's blinding, and you have to hold onto that alright? You can't let them snuff it out".
"I… I don't understand," Harry mumbled softly, hunching in on himself even as he obediently kept his eyes on Mr Smith's.
"One day you will," Mr Smith promised simply, "You'll change this world, Harry Potter, I can tell".
Harry didn't believe the teacher; he couldn't believe him. Countless other people had promised to do what they could to help Harry, whether it was to protect him from Dudley's abuse at school or from the Dursley's abuse at home. Never before had any of them came through, most of them just got fired or mysteriously came into money, and the ones that made a big enough ruckus just tended to... forget... about him overnight.
So while Harry wanted to believe Mr Smith, he couldn't. Not that he could tell the man that, that'd leave too many questions.
"Yes sir".
THE HUNT
Eyes snapping open as his cupboard's lock slid open, Harry pushed it open and clambered out to follow his Aunt Petunia into the kitchen.
"Keep it down," his Aunt hissed at him like always, pulling a plate with two sandwich on it from the fridge and shoving it at him. "And hurry up".
Obediently sitting at the table and rushing to eat the dinner he'd missed out on for 'being so bad at school he had been held back after class', Harry silently watched as Aunt Petunia flittered around the kitchen and gave it a quick wipe down. Smiling faintly as an apple and a glass of milk was set down before him, Aunt Petunia not giving him a second glance as she searched through the fridge and pantry, Harry hurried to finish his dinner before Uncle Vernon or Dudley came down for one of their expected midnight snacks.
"What happened today, in school?" Aunt Petunia asked suddenly, making him almost drop his milk in shock.
"It was Mr Smith's last day," Harry admitted quietly, his voice just above a whisper that his Aunt heard anyway. "He wanted to say goodbye". As his Aunt turned to shoot him a startled look, Harry hurried to explain "He's been letting me stay in his classroom during lunch to get away from Dud- er, some bullies".
His Aunt relaxing immediately, taking his dishes to the sink and quickly watching them, Harry looked around slowly. They'd been following this pattern for years, on days he was punished he could always count on Aunt Petunia to sneak him out of his cupboard for a bathroom break and to feed him the dinner he had been denied that night. If Harry was to be honest, the reason he hadn't broken like Mr Smith had mentioned was his Aunt, if she had been just as cruel as Uncle Vernon and Dudley were then perhaps he may have let them 'snuff out his light'.
"Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"No thank you," Harry mumbled as he watched his Aunt drying her hands, leaving him to slide off his chair silently and pad after her into the hallway. "Thank you, for the apple," he added honestly, fingers tightening around it slightly as she glanced down at it absently.
"What apple?" Aunt Petunia answered innocently, raising her eyebrow at him as a faint smile graced her lips. "Come on, Harry, in".
Nodding sadly as his Aunt opened his cupboard again, Harry made to climb in only for a loud click to echo through the house. Squeaking as Aunt Petunia grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back, Harry watched a shape moving through the glass of the front door as he was dragged into the kitchen and pulled around the corner by his wide-eyed Aunt.
Feeling his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a pale Aunt Petunia stifled a gasp and looked between the archway to the hallway and the phone hanging on the wall on the other side of it. Harry judged the distance and tried to creep closer to the corner to peer around, wondering if he could make a run for it and help his Aunt.
"Harry?"
Blinking in shock as a more than familiar voice whispered from the hallway, he moved faster than Aunt Petunia could and leapt forward, plastering himself to the wall and peering around the corner with one eye to see the speaker.
"Harry? Come on kid," Mr Smith said softly as Harry watched the crouching man place his hand against the cupboard door that opened with another loud click like Harry had heard from the front door. "It's time to g- Harry?"
"Mr Smith?"
His teacher's head snapping around as Aunt Petunia gasped, Harry slowly stepped out into the light of the wall-mounted lamp, frowning at his teacher at his Aunt stepped half in front of him.
"Your kind are not welcome here," Aunt Petunia hissed darkly, making Harry frown up at her as his fingers twitched to latch onto the back of her skirt nervously. "I swore when I took him in that I would protect him from monsters like you".
Mr Smith's lips twisted into a smirk that Harry could only describe as dark, "If I'm a monster, then I shudder to think of what else exists in the world," he drawled mockingly. "There are things a lot worse than me out there".
"And now there's one of them in here too," Aunt Petunia snapped, "Now leave, before I call for help".
"Then what?" Mr Smith demanded, straightening up into his usual tall figure, the light from the lamp casting eerie shadows on his face. "What you will you do when you precious 'blood wards' fail you? They will not protect against one like me".
"What are you?"
Flinching as Aunt Petunia stiffened and Mr Smith's eyes darted down to meet his, Harry swallowed uncomfortably at the way the man's face softened at the sight of him. He wasn't so sure if he liked this new Mr Smith, the old one was always nice to him, but this one was being mean to Aunt Petunia and was scaring him with the almost sub-vocal growl accompanying his voice.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Mr Smith explained gently, "Ever. I'm here to take you away, somewhere safe".
"He's not going anywhere," Aunt Petunia argued immediately.
"Oh? And who is going to stop me, mortal? You?" Mr Smith shot back, his dark smirk coming back as he sneered down at Harry's Aunt.
"Mortal?" Harry blurted, cautiously stepping around his Aunt to stand at her side. "But everyone's mortal, aren't they?"
"Not quite, Harry," Mr Smith denied slowly, face softening again as he smiled down at him in the same way he always did when Harry asked questions in class. "While there is no such thing as a 'true' Immortal, we're as close as it gets".
"We?"
"Him?"
Mr Smith's eyebrows shot up as Harry and Aunt Petunia exchanged a confused look at each other's outbursts. "You did… you did not know," the man said finally, eyes leaving Harry's face to stare at Aunt Petunia who shook her head in response.
"I thought you… you wizards were mortal. My sister and her husband still died, after all," Aunt Petunia admitted unhappily.
"That's your mistake," Mr Smith confessed, the look on his face the one Aunt Petunia got every time she had to stop and think about the answer to one of her crossword puzzles. "You are labouring under the delusion that I am a mere wizard, understandable," he added as he shot the open cupboard door a pointed look. "Listen carefully, for I can say this only once," Mr Smith declared quietly as he stepped forward to lower his voice even further. "Me and my… my people… we have been waiting for Harry for a long time. It took us years to realise that He had even been born, and even longer to track him here. Now I'm here to take him home".
"Why?" Harry asked, making both of the adult's eyes swivel around to stare at him. "Why me?"
"The Fates chose you, Harry, not us," Mr Smith assured him.
"The 'fates' aren't real, and neither is magic," Harry argued stubbornly, something flashing through Mr Smith's eyes at his words.
"It was Vernon's decision," Aunt Petunia defended as Mr Smith turned those dark eyes on her, "I had no choice in the matter, I do what I can for him but that is all. I dare not risk do more".
"Magic isn't real, is it?" Mr Smith asked, turning back to Harry and crouching down again with a smile, "Then explain this".
And with that the wall-lamp started flickering, Mr Smith's eyes started glowing as if someone had lit a fire behind them, his irises changing from their normal brown to a fiery red-orange colour. But it was what happened next that convinced Harry of the truth, the smell of sulphur filled his nose as Mr Smith's lips curled to reveal sharpened canines and he tilted his head back, taking a deep breath before exhaling sharply and breathing out a small stream of fire.
"Do you still think that magic doesn't exist?" Mr Smith questioned slowly as he grinned smugly, all sharp fangs, as smoke curled from the corner of his mouth.
"What… what are you?" Aunt Petunia gasped, pulling Harry away from his old teacher as the man shrugged and everything returned to normal in an instant.
"Dragon," Harry blurted, unable to keep the 'duh' from his voice as he stared at Mr Smith in awe.
"Not quite," the man corrected slowly, "We're not dragons, nor are we even related to them. But there are many names for us, and just as many 'breeds'.
"I said, what are you?" Aunt Petunia demanded, pushing Harry behind her as she raised her chin to bravely stare down the taller man.
In response the man's eyes lit up again, the fiery colour almost captivating to Harry as Mr Smith and Aunt Petunia stared at each other. "You don't need to know," the man dismissed slowly, "In fact, it's better that you don't. They can't shatter your mind looking for information you don't know, after all".
"I'm not letting you just take him!" Aunt Petunia argued.
"He's one of us," Mr Smith snapped darkly, the air around him seemingly darkening. "The wizards would execute him just for being beyond their control, but we would train him, teach him how to control his… gifts… and show him when and how to use them. Only with us will he achieve not only his destiny to lead the Hunt, but true happiness".
"You'll protect him?" Aunt Petunia asked, making Harry's head snap around to stare at her in shock and a little bit of betrayal. "You'll keep him safe, and happy?"
Mr Smith just blinked at her in confusion, "He's one of us," he repeated slowly as if that answered all her questions. "We're social creatures, Mrs Dursley, he needs to be among others of his kind or he'll never make true friends".
As Aunt Petunia continued shooting questions at Mr Smith, Harry found his mind wandering. Magic was real, that much was obvious even to him, there was no way for Mr Smith to have faked what he had done especially when Aunt Petunia had used the word 'wizard'. And not only that but Mr Smith wanted to take him away to somewhere there were other magic-people, did… did that mean that Harry was a magic-person as well?
"Take him".
Wait what.
"You have my word he'll be protected," Mr Smith promised, placing his hand over his heart as his eyes lit up again. "I swear it on my soul".
"Harry, you need to go with him," Aunt Petunia declared immediately, turning and crouching down to Harry's level as she turned him to face her. "He'll look after you; you'll have other people like you around. And you'll be far, far away from Vernon and Dudley. I couldn't protect you here, but I can send you somewhere you'll be happy".
"But-"
"No… no buts," Aunt Petunia interrupted, pushing him lightly towards Mr Smith. "Just go".
THE HUNT
"Gee Potter, got ants in your pants or something?
"Give him a break, mate, he's got his letter coming any minute now".
Ignoring the voices talking behind him, Harry just exchanged an anxious grin with the boy sitting opposite him, both of them too nervous to eat the breakfast piled high on their plates.
He'd been waiting for this day this Mr 'Call me Logan' Smith had taken him away from the Dursleys and told him about the magical world and what lay in its shadow. He loved his new – his true – family more than anything, they were everything he'd wished the Dursleys could have been, but more than three quarters of his 'kind' who lived in England were what they called 'mundane' and thus were incapable of using magic or teaching him about it.
And sure, Harry was a little depressed over the fact that he was going to Hogwarts alone, none of the other magical children going to the castle over a smaller closer school. But his friends were all proud of him for having his name down since birth, and Seamus and Connor had already coerced a promise from him to buy an owl and send them weekly letters. Or course, first Harry had to find an owl that didn't automatically hate him for his non-human side, but Mr Smith said that because he was still young it'd be easy to find an owl and then 'ween' it towards his aura as he grew older and it grew stronger.
It had taken Harry a moment to get used to the idea that he wasn't entirely human, nor entirely wizard. But when he had, he'd taken to it with what his teachers called a 'natural talent', something that had made Mr Smith beam at him with pride. Of course, because of his age he wouldn't be able to join the rest of them until he was a little older, but as far as Harry was concerned thirteen was that far of a step away from eleven so he could wait.
His head snapping around as the doors to the dining hall swung open, Harry felt himself perking up hopefully as Mr Smith stepped into the room and looked around, obviously searching for Harry if the way he started at the children's table.
"Harry!" Seamus hissed quietly, "You're trembling".
"Bite me," Harry whispered back as the Irish boy sniggered, baring his slightly sharpened teeth at his friend who only sniggered louder.
"Now, now, Harry. Manners," Mr Smith's voice called, Harry grimacing as he remembered the enhanced hearing the adults all boasted. "Unless you just want me to hold onto your letter until you've apologised?"
Harry just glared at the man who grinned unashamedly, purposely taking his time in walking casually over to where Harry was sitting.
"Ah, Mr Finnigan, I shouldn't be surprised to find you hanging onto Harry's tail, but somehow I am," Mr Smith added as he reached the two of them and noticed Seamus.
"It starts deeper in your throat, Harry," the man corrected as a growl rumbled up from Harry's chest before he could stop it. "Oh alright. I am sorry Mr Finnigan, that was rude of me," Mr Smith apologised properly when Harry just kept growling. "You know little Lord, once you're old enough to take your throne, you'll find that growling at people doesn't tend to work so well," he muttered under his breath, pulling out the chair beside Harry. "Besides, I didn't mean that in an offensive way, I mean it like this".
Blinking in shock as Mr Smith threw not one, but two letters onto the table, Harry exchanged a look with Seamus before making a grab for the one with his name on it, grinning at his best friend as the boy turned his own around to show his name on the front.
"I'm going to Hogwarts," Seamus blurted.
"We're going to Hogwarts," Harry corrected, his grin just as wide and sharp-toothed as Seamus'.
Unable to help himself, Harry threw his head back and howled into the air, Seamus following suit seconds later, their howls piercing the quiet dim of the dining hall. Moments later Harry could hear an almost rippling wave of howls circling out from around the two of them, everyone else in the room joining in on the joy of their future Alpha and his Beta.
The Hunt was soon to begin.
THE HUNT
Based off DZ2's "The Lost Heir" challenge, this idea came about from a fragment of a thought that came out of nowhere and vanished back into the void just as quickly. Just a moment was enough though, and this idea was born from it. I'm not going to tell you what Harry's species is, but you're all welcome to guess.