Disclaimer:

I solemnly swear that the literature and works of the Harry Potter Verse belong to JK Rowling, Bloomberg and Warner Bros. The only thing I own are the one-shot ideas that popped into my head and whatever OCs I would create for them. This is a work of pure fiction made solely for fun, constructive reviews will be welcomed, flames will be ignored. Any references to characters in real-life or fiction are purely coincidental. If I could make money out of my ideas, it would be nice...

Mischief Managed Damn It!


Title: Archer of Hogwarts (Working Title)

Posted Date: May 5 2022

Tags: Hufflepuff Harry, Hawkeye Archer type Harry, Harry x Susan, Good/Well Meaning Dumbledore, BWL Neville Longbottom, Canon Snape

Possible Challenges: Harry x Hufflepuff Poly, Bad Alice Longbottom


The Forest of Dean was quiet and serene in the early morning with mist lightly covering the area, the morning sun bathing the area and penetrating the mist to give the forest an almost ethereal atmosphere where one could expect beings from Tolkien literature to sprout out of the woodwork. The sounds of birds chirping in the distance and the light trickling of water from the stream created a pleasant backdrop for the pack of deer to tread through the woods and take bites of the plants around the area, with a few rabbits hopping about. It was very peaceful with no known predators in the area that would come about in the morning, and that was why they preferred coming to this spot. They had to take what they could before they had to migrate for the upcoming winter.

One of the deer had wandered a little bit away from the others, preferring the patch of grass that was by the stream as it was always crisp to it. It was busily enjoying its meal when one of its ears twitched in the direction of grass crunching, prompting it to look at an area where the bushes were thicker. The forest had its fair share of predators, that was no denying it, but as of late, the forest seemed to have gotten darker overtime, and the deer could feel 'something' stalking them under the cover of the night, with howls that set off their instincts. And then there was another predator that reminded it of the two-legged predators that appeared every so often with pointed sticks and sharp claws that glistened the light, but this one felt closer to nature than most. If it had to die to any predator in the forest, the deer would prefer to fall to the one that felt closer to nature than the other two-leg hunters or the dark ones.

The bush rustled a bit more as the deer prepared to make a break for it, before a fox cub appeared out of it to catch what looked to be a critter, followed shortly by another fox cub. The deer paused for a moment before relaxing, not sensing any others in the area. It was probably tense from the recent happenings in the forest, it should be safe.

That would be the last thought it would ever have as the sound of something cutting the air came about, followed by a brief pain and then darkness. The sound of its body collapsing triggered the rest of the deer to flee deeper into the forest, clearing it in a few seconds in hopes of escaping the predator in their midst. A few moments later, a small figure dropped down from the trees a few away from the fallen deer, with the fox cubs coming up to it with one holding said critter in its mouth and its tail swaying side-to-side.

"Good catch." The young boy answered with a slightly raspy voice as if he had not used his voice for a long time. He bent down to scratch their ears while looking at the fresh kill and removing the hood from his head. The boy appeared to be eight or nine years old in appearance on the thin side, with long dark hair that was honestly a big mess barely contained by being tied into a rough ponytail with some twine, a face that still held some baby fat and a pair of green eyes that shone like emeralds as he looked to where his catch was. He was dressed in what looked like a kid's version of a camouflage rain suit with actual leaves and branches weaved into the fabric, and thick boots that were clearly a size too big for him, necessitating the use of string to keep it to his legs. In his hand, held a roughly made hunting bow that was comically big compared to his small frame. That did not stop him from slinging the bow on his back with ease and making his way to the slayed deer, taking a moment to inspect the body before pulling out a knife from the boot and kneeling down next to it.

The boy took his time to dismember the carcass and discard the organs, wanting to make sure he did not miss out any of the edible meat on the body while his companions listened out for any intruders. Nothing went to waste, even the skin and fur of the deer was carefully cut loose for warmth in the coming cold weather. While he was able to rustle up some plants, it was a little hard to differentiate the edible ones from the poisonous ones. Meat choices were easier to look for even if they were a hassle to hunt.

It took him the better part of an hour to strip down the deer carcass completely and wash the meat clean of blood at the nearby stream, placing his bounty in separate packets of leaves and twine before wrapping the lot into a bigger bag. He then went to bury the bones and the organs to at least hide the trail and to give some form of closure for the deer. Whatever he could not get rid of properly, the scavengers would be able to do the work for him. He placed the freshly picked skull on the newly made grave along with some flowers and closed his eyes briefly to give a prayer, and for a quick moment, he could feel the wind caressing him as though to assure him that he was forgiven for hunting the deer. After a few more seconds, the boy got up from the grave and started moving, his foxy companions following behind him. They continued on for a while until they reached an area where there were a few trees intertwining one another and a few thick bushes at the bottom. The boy looked about the area before raising a hand at the bushes, the action making a few of them move to the sides to create a path through and to reveal a small tunnel being covered by a simple gate of sticks and twine with sharpened spikes pointing outwards. The boy moved the frame to allow his foxes to enter the tunnel before he went in and replaced the frame's position while ignoring how the vegetation returned to their original positions. He followed his companions a short while in darkness until they came out the other end to show more trees encircling them and around a rock formation overhanging what appeared to be a make-shift campsite with a cave at the back of said formation hidden behind another door frame made from thick branches and twine, with overhanging vines at the sides. Near that was an old tree stump that was a little taller than him with a few cracks in the bark and a big hole around the roots, with a hollow trunk coming off from the side to another smaller stump and some rocks covered in soot around it.

The boy promptly laid down his bag and went about starting a small campfire under the rock formation with a flint fire starter before he moved to the groove of the bigger tree stump, bringing along some dried bushes and branches and laying them inside the hole. After taking a while to add some embers to get it going and more fuel, he started to add some wet leaves to get smoke out of it before moving the hollow trunk to get the smoke flowing through it and to the smaller stump. The boy walked past the campfire and into the cave, coming out a minute later with an old cooler box that he lightly laid on the ground before opening it to take out small bottles of spices and herbs that were foliaged if not found from campsites. Returning to his bag, the boy took out some of the meat and placed them on racks of sticks or tree-bark, and went to apply the spices. After they were done, he took some of the meat skewered on sticks to the bigger tree stump and secured them above the fire to cook them, and the remainder to the smaller stump to smoke them. After ensuring his prize was secured and the smoke was flowing steadily through the trunk, he went back to the campfire and laid down with a tired but satisfied sigh, his two fox cubs coming to his sides to lean against him.

"A good haul today." The boy stretched and wincing from the joints popping, dropping his arms down to lightly pat his companions. It was indeed a good haul today since it was a decent sized deer that would last him for the coming winter within a few weeks. And having a guide on survival and cooking left behind by one of those campers helped him to learn how to properly smoke meats to last a long time without spoiling. The only flaw with the cooking process was the amount of smoke required to cure the meat; he could not do it inside his cave to avoid choking from the smoke, but at the same time he needed to control the flames to avoid being detected by any rangers or hunters in the area. It took the better part of a month to get the technique down, but he did get some good cooking done.

His nose twitched before he got up and moved to the bigger stump, pulling out the skewers of meat to test before smiling. Having done this for a long while, he had a good sense to tell when his meal was just about done. Leaving it in the stump for a while longer, the boy went to the cave again to grab a cup and plates made of tree-bark and some sap to hold some water from the nearby stream, then went about gathering vegetables from a make-shift garden he had grown near the cave. After washing thoroughly and cutting them up, the boy went to grab the meat skewers for their meal while leaving the racks and bark still in the smaller stump. He smiled as he watched his fox cubs eat their meals and occasionally chase one another for a morsel; he had them around for as long as he could remember since he got dumped into this forest, what with their mother having passed away from poachers. He supposed that with him having taken care of them during their period, they had grown to think of him as their father. He could live with that.

After that satisfying breakfast, the boy went to check on the curing meat briefly before he started working on the skin of the deer, ensuring there were no traces of meat, fat, membranes that he could get to in the beginning. He had prepared a braining solution using the fresh deer head and some animal fat he had gotten a few days earlier along with an old batch he had done previously, into this the deer skin got submerged into and soaked thoroughly before he got it out and wringed as much of the liquid out of the skin as he could. Once completed, he stretched the skin according to a wood frame made of sticks to ensure the muscle tissue did not make the skin shrink during the drying process. It was a good skin for the coming winter, but it clearly needed more work.

The boy left it there to dry in the sun and prepared his hunting kit for the afternoon, before he and his companions left the campsite to check on the other traps which he had laid around the general area, and then to the area he was thinking of going to, pausing every so often to check for edible plants for consumption. The boy did not care about the fact that the sun was slowly rising to the peak as he went about checking every trap and carefully dismembering any creature caught in them. Given the onset of winter, he wanted to be properly stocked as many animals would be gone during that period, and judging from the recent howling at night, there were a few new predators that he wanted to avoid meeting if possible. He did not need to worry much about fish since the nearby stream ran through his campsite with a small pond he created to house those he captured, and he tended to pick out fresh trimming of certain plants to transplant to his garden for more vegetables.

By the time the day was about to hit noon, the boy had collected three decent sized rabbits for the three of them, 2 squirrels on the thin side, and a full bag of berries, pine nuts and mushrooms with some herbs good for replanting. Unfortunately his idea of heading deeper into the outskirts got rerouted by the rumble of thunder echoing in the general area, prompting him to look in the general direction and narrow his eyes at the darkening clouds.

"Big storm is coming." His foxes lightly barked in agreement while staying close, not comfortable with the echoing thunder and bright flashes of lightning evident in the distance. The boy gathered up whatever he could get and quickly made his way back to his hideout while the branches of the trees started swaying from the wind, pausing to create a torch out of some embers from the fire-pit before going into the cave, revealing a long tunnel that rose steadily to a relatively big and more importantly dry cavern with several smaller tunnels branching elsewhere. The boy went along to light the other torches that were embedded in the walls of the tunnel and a make-shift pit of rocks and wood to get more light inside, then went about stashing his recent gains and preparing whatever was necessary to save the meat in light of the coming storm. He went back out to check on the smoked meats and nodded at their completion, taking them out of the smoking stump and to the overhanging shelter first just as he could hear the wind howling above him with the clouds darkening the sky. It was with a sense of relief that he managed to finish up on the collection along with the almost dried skin just as the clap of thunder sounded above and the first droplets of rain started to wet the ground.

The boy took the time to move the smoked meat carefully inside with a simple sled he found on one of his treks as he did not want to drop them, pausing briefly by the door to get his companions inside before he shut the entrance with the door frame and secured that with a thick branch laid by the side. Once he entered the cavern, he piled on more wood for the fire pit, then went about wrapping the smoked meat into leaf packets and storing them on rock shelves to keep them dry. The sound of the rain echoed a fair bit in the cavern, and the odd clap of thunder was enough to make him really happy for the dry cavern as he proceeded to work on the rabbits and squirrels for their next meal.

With all of that done and the deer skin drying next to the fire, the boy settled on the hammock made from vines and leaves tied to the walls of the cavern, sighing blissfully from the effort he had pulled just to gather the bounty while his companions rested near the fire. Even if there was no snow yet, the chill of autumn was enough to make him lethargic and stiff around the limbs. Hopefully with the deer skin, he could be warmer. The smoked meats would help with the coming winter, but he really needed more sustenance to avoid being sick. He would go about the old trails once the storm subsided to find some berries and other vegetables for his garden, the fish and water sources having been taken care of.

Within the cavern, the sounds of the rain got muffled to a fine trickle, with the cold air mixing with the hot air of the fire pit to create an ideal temperature about the cavern, making him want to close his eyes and relax. Considering he woke up very early to track down the deer, he could use some sleep, and the storm was not letting up.

Maybe a few minutes would do?

~ooOOoo~

"Lily, he is here! Grab Harry and run!"

"Please, help me save my son!"

"You will not hurt the young master!"

"I will not raise him here, take him away!"

"We do not want that freak here!"

"Step aside, girl!"

"Please, take me instead, not Harry!"

"You have been promised to someone else, step aside and you may live!"

"Not my son, please!"

"So be it… AVADA KEDAVRA!"

~ooOOoo~

The boy woke up with a start from both the dream and the clap of thunder that shook his cavern, making his fox companions whimper from the sound. The boy got out of the hammock and laid by the fire to comfort them as the wind howled loudly outside, his mind elsewhere from the dream he kept having every so often while a hand was raised to his forehead where a faded scar in the shape of a lightning bolt was.

He hated those dreams, memories of his old life with the people who had abandoned him in the forest, and the flashes of something that made his heart ache and his head to burn around that old scar he had. The pain from the old family and the frustration from the other voices. He did not know who they were, but all he remembered from his old life outside of the forest was a mix of sadness and pain.

He remembered how strange things happened around him for which he got blamed for along with the accusations made by the fat boy from his memories. He recalled his attempts to escape only to be brought back to the house of the people who hurt him, and the few nights he had to be stuck in a cupboard after said attempts. He recalled how he was forcefully brought along on an outing to the forest that saw the adult male push him over the edge and hit the rocks below. He shuddered at the memories of cold nights as he cradled his broken arm while hiding from all the sounds around him.

It was a retired park ranger named Ben Walker who found him 2 days later and took him back to his cabin to heal him. It was him who gave him food and shelter; taught him how to read, write, and survive in the wilderness. It was him who gave the boy a chance to actually live.

It was also the park ranger who gave him his name, and a chance to start anew, before his untimely demise a year and a half later.

Harold Walker, that was the name granted to the boy by the man he saw as the closest ideal of a father. And he owed a lot to that man since he had to survive alone in the forest with his foxy companions.

Right now though… He just wanted to sleep right now.

~ooOOoo~

The next morning, the boy named Harold Walker got out of his home with his trusty bag and the compound bow for the day. While he had cured and stocked up on supplies to last him a few weeks to 2 months at best, Harold needed more to last the winter. And given what he had been gathering the past few weeks, there were supposed predators that had been hunting the deer outside of him, and he did not like the competition if he were honest.

And for some time, there was a feeling of unease that permeated the forest which he really did not like. It felt like an illness that was sipping into the very soil to make the plants dying and the animals either weakened or going more feral than normal. Harold had the bad feeling that something bad had entered the woods, and he did not like his chances of going at it alone, especially in the coming winter. His best hope was to gather as much supplies as he could, secure his hideaway and hunker down until spring, then move on to another location if the feeling persisted. Harold shook his head briefly before leaving his hideaway and made his way northwards to where some campers had gone recently. Usually they would leave something behind by accident that he could use for himself or even attract animals that he could hunt down.

He went about his way, mindful of the muddy ground while his companions followed behind. It did not take long for him to reach more solid ground, which allowed him to pick up speed to get to where he wanted. That did not last long though as he stopped before a stretch of overturned earth that left a gorge in the middle of the forest and stretched far into the distance, his face went into a frown as he inspected the area. He had taken this path 3 days ago, and he would know if something had arrived to deal this much damage to the ground as it would no doubt involve lots of loud sounds and vibrations that he could feel from his hiding place. Harold decided to take a detour and made his way to a resting point he had created for days when the rain would pour and he could not get back to his hideaway.

With a whistle, his companions came to him and leaped into his arms. Making sure they were secured, Harold took a breath and jumped off the ground, and in a blink of an eye, landed next to a big tree that stood by a small rock overhang and a medium sized stream flowing past it. This spot was ideal as he was surrounded by a decent amount of foliage and enough rocks to block out any light from the fire pit there, while granting him a high enough vantage point to view the general area and at the same time the stream cut off most of the routes except one that he knew personally, making it a great spot to hide and track animals.

And it was a good thing he did that, as his previous estimation of the gorge was off by a fair amount. It appeared to be stretching from one side of the forest to the other in increasing widths, leading up to the big river that had some of the water being diverted into random potholes to form pools. Harold could not help the shiver down his spine at the sight and wondered what was going on.

After checking the resting spot for a bit and preparing fresh firewood, Harold proceeded to make his way to the 'landing spot' for him to teleport to another spot that he knew of a little further off west to avoid the ground disruption.

Only to hit something invisible face first and then hit the ground hard on his back.

"OW!" Harold winced from the pain while his companions leaped off to avoid hitting the ground. Lightly cradling his nose, Harold checked for any blood before getting up slowly. With a bit of unease, Harold reached out about him to see what he hit despite being in an open plain with no trees. While he did not see anything, there was an odd presence that made the hair on his neck stand up a little. Deciding to test it out, Harold grabbed a branch to mark out where he was standing at the moment. Looking at a tree that was a few meters away and between him and his previous hiding spot, Harold teleported to that without issues. Then with a slight grimace, Harold teleported back to the spot just a few meters with his arm stretched out, this time feeling something briefly before he stopped.

"What in the world?" Harold frowned as his companions moved forward without anything stopping them. He took a breath and walked after them, feeling shivers down his spine as he passed through something that wanted to make him gag. It felt like he went through a curtain of some weird mixture of wind and slime that went against everything in this forest. To soothe himself, Harold placed a hand on the nearest tree and shared his magic with it, sighing lightly as the tree took in his magic and granted him the essence of the earth itself, cleansing his body and helping him deal with the weirdness. Harold tried to feel out the area and winced as he felt his abilities blocked with a big headache as the end result. He had been to this part of the forest and never had this issue before.

What was going on?

The sounds of his fox cubs yelping drew his attention to them clawing at the ground in agitation. Harold moved to where they were and began to pick at the spot, noticing very quickly that the weird feeling he had was emanating from this spot. He increased the speed of digging until he hit something hard with his fingers. Digging around it, he grunted while pulling up a rock that had weird etchings on it, trying to suppress the shudders that were traveling down his spine while having contact with this weird rock. Deciding that this was the likely cause, he sat it down on the ground and backed away briefly to get some control of his body. Grabbing his knife, Harold gripped it tightly and placed the tip against one of the etchings, then pressed as hard as he could against it while dragging it.

'SNAP!'

After disfiguring one of the etchings, there was the sensation of water washing the gunk off him and the sound of something that was taut snapping from the tension. Harold could breathe a bit better, although he could tell that it was only within a small area where he was standing. But at least his abilities were not as affected as earlier. Harold frowned at the rock in his hand before flames appeared on it. He let it drop to the floor and watch it crumble into fine dust. Almost immediately the area felt cleaner at that point, and Harold gripped his hands tight as the familiar feel of the forest rushed through him like a tidal wave, his companions yipping in delight as they hopped about, likely feeling the same deal.

This was very unusual, but it was clear that someone had appeared recently and was doing something to the forest that was harming it. Harold did not know who it was or why it was done, but this was his home and he would be damned if someone came trespassing!

Right as he thought that, Harold felt, and then heard, a disturbance not far away. Screams, from a young girl by the sound of it, echoed through the area. Whoever it was was obviously in a great deal of pain, and Harold knew without hesitation that he had to go help the owner of the voice. He immediately sprinted toward the sound as quickly as he could, again feeling the tingle spread over his skin, but this time it felt different. Instead of feeling unpleasant it felt welcoming, invigorating. If he had to describe it, it almost felt as though it was inviting him in, but that only made him a bit more uneasy considering the situation.

There was no time to ponder this feeling, though, and he ignored it in favor of finding the injured girl. Her screams continued unabated as Harold sprinted through the trees, and he felt a rush of fear run through him. Whatever she was screaming about must have been extremely terrible; he sincerely hoped he wouldn't be too late. Part of his mind whispered that he should be running the opposite direction, but he shoved the thoughts down and buried them. Harold never thought of himself as brave since he had to do what he could to survive in the forest, but he would be damned if he did not at least make sure that whoever was in pain got some treatment.

With that thought, Harold rushed into the unknown with his fox cubs following him, screams echoing in his ears and a strange magical force tingling in his skin.