Dead Man Walking (HP/LOTR>Adventure/Fantasy)

The latter stared at the box for a bit, then reached out with a gloved hand and took the offering. With the other hand, he pulled away part of the ashen hued cloak and neatly deposited the box into the nearest chest pocket. “How much does your service cost here, Mr. Ollivander?” asked the stranger as he shifted his grip over to the other side of his jacket to reach for his wallet. He soon produced a nearly foot long, rectangular shaped, black leather thing that folded over like a book. The youth flipped it open upon his open palm to reveal rows of little slits stuffed with dollar pills on one side, and the other with coins used in the wizarding world. The only other time that Harry had seen a wallet like that, were of the rich, like Lucius Malfoy.

“Aren’t you going to check the contents?!” asked the shop keeper, incredulously.

Blue eyes met the silvery ones, looking up from his wallet and grinned beneath the shadows. “No, I believe that isn’t necessary. I trust you made the right choice. On the other hand, if you hadn’t, I would most likely come back to haunt you, sir.” The youth softly chuckled at his little joke to which the younger wizards did not get right away. He rolled his eyes at this, than asked the elderly shop keeper once more, “How much is service here?”

Mr. Ollivander just stared at the young man in bewilderment before he too, began to laugh at the comment. ‘Like that’ll ever happen!’ he thought to himself. Then out loud to his customer in waiting, “That’ll be seven galleons, young sir. In muggle terms, that would’ve cost you $51.31!”

“I assumed as much…,” replied the latter as his gloved fingers shifted through the slits, counting up and removing the right amount of gold coins known as galleons to this world. He weighed the money in his hand, thinking something over in his mind as he studied the glitter of the coins. Suddenly, the youth closed his palm and used two fingers to remove three silver, sickles out along with the numerous amount already there. He stretched his arm out towards the clerk and slowly dumped the payment into the awaiting hand. Mr. Ollivander quickly calculated the amount there and before he could interject, the youth said to him, “I’m quite aware that that’s too much there, but it’s the least I could do to repay you for the trouble of my task.”

Mr. Ollivander smiled warmly and nodded his head gleefully at this new found tip. “Thank you, sir! Thank you, kind, young sir! It’s not everyday that I get to meet kids as kind as you!” He bowed and then made his way over to the cash register machine to deposit the money.

While the elder was busy with that, the mysterious youth picked up his wizard’s staff with care and stood it on end before him. “Lanta kaima, Ita'istar...,” he softly whispered to it. Once more, the golden inscription glowed brightly and the tall form of the staff seemed to melt away, shimmer, back into the stubby, yet massive thing that Harry had mistaken for a wand earlier.

The youth held the now portable version of his staff in his left hand, as his right shifted down to his side to shove away some of his dark cloak over his belt. He looked down at the belt loop and slipped the wand into it as if he were re-sheathing a sword. The stranger grabbed the side of his cloak to shift it outwards and place it back over his side, but that was not before Harry caught a quick glimpse of a metallic colored hilt.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at the curious sight in thought and then quickly turned his attention back over to the pile of narrow wand boxes before the stranger noticed him staring. ‘A metal hilt…,” thought Harry, trying to make a connection. All of a sudden, it clicked and a light of thought came to mind. ‘Bloody hell, it’s a sword!’ He quickly looked over at the youth from the corner of his eyes before returning back to his theory. “A sword…but…but what would he need it for…?”

Just as Harry’s mind was recalling what the hilt looked like, someone said, “Pardon the interruption, young one, but what’s your name?” Harry’s head snapped up and looked about for the owner of the voice. A wave of a gloved hand near his face, got his attention to the youth. “My name?” he asked. The hood of the stranger nodded gently. “Harry. Harry Potter.”

The mysterious youth smiled and held out a hand towards Harry. “Nice to meet you, Harry Potter,” he said. The boy looked at his hand, hesitated, and than shook it. During that short time of contact, deep blue eyes looked right through the pools of emerald, searching for something of great importance. Once he found what he looking for, the youth concentrated a little harder which caused Harry’s eyes to flicker an eerie green for a fraction of a second. The strange glow proved to him that he had finally found the one, “him”, and that the search was finally over.

As Harry placed his hand back at his side, he couldn’t believe what he felt during that hand shake and brief eye contact. After he had introduced himself to the youth, the hilt…the sword’s identity…had come back to him from somewhere far off in his being. For some unknown reason, he had felt angry enough to yell at the stranger. Something like, “Hey! That’s my sword! Where did you find it?!” It was as if the youth had stolen something of his. This was becoming so confusing, and yet…

Suddenly, the sound of boots making the old wooden floor of the shop creak begin to fade beside him, cause reality to return back to Harry’s glazed eyes. He turned his gaze towards the open door that the youth was about to go through and bring in the daylight for a short time. “Hey, wait! I didn’t get your name!” said Harry urgently.

The mysterious youth paused in the doorway and slowly turned to face Harry. “It’s Larsen. Just call me Larsen, for now.” Then he looked past the boy over to the shop keeper and nodded curtly, “’Quel re!” The stranger turned to leave, but before he did, he said to Harry over his shoulder, “Saesa omentien lle, meloneamin…Elessar.” And with that, the mysterious youth left the little shop with a flick of his large black cloak into the rain and was gone.

Harry stared out that door, utterly stupefied to the spot. A part of him was kind of scared for he actually understood that strange language that the youth said to him. ‘He called me, Elessar. How did he know my old name? I have never told anyone that name nor anything about my dreams! Whatever has been going on in my head about Aragorn…has been my business. Just mine!’ said Harry to himself. The other part of him that was unafraid, was in some perverse way, relieved. Relieved to know that he would see this Larsen guy again and maybe get some answers from him of questions he didn’t know how to ask or could think up of.

After that excitement was over and reality rooted its way deeply into Harry’s mind, he spent the next twenty minutes to half an hour testing wands again. He soon came upon a wand that was crafted of the same wood as his old wand, but was infused with the blood, tears, and scales of a dragon from long ago and whose existence was unknown, instead of a single phoenix’s tail feather. Mr. Ollivander took the wand from him and inscribed Harry’s initials near the rounded end of the wand with a magical feather pen. He explained to Harry that he was required to do this now with the new models and other emergencies the owner may have with the wand.

Harry agreed that was a good idea, paid for his item, and left Ollivander’s to make his way down the busy pathways of Diagon Alley. Just as he was passing the joke shop, he began to worry if he should’ve waited at the shop for the Weasleys to come and get him. Harry had told Ron and Hermione that he would be there for a bit. Than again, he didn’t feel like retracing his steps back to there. He opted to keep going towards the end of the alley near The Leaky Cauldron and assumed that the family could be found there. Besides, Mrs. Weasley spent most of her day at the book shop, half the time they were here. No less looking for Lockhart’s new book. Harry would always roll his eyes at that for he couldn’t believe that she was still a fan of Lockhart’s after all that had happened second and fifth year.

He passed by many shops along the way, but none of them mattered enough to see what was showcasing in their display windows. Harry just couldn’t stop thinking of that stranger back in the wand shop and what they said to each other. He ran their conversation over and over in his mind until Flourish and Blott’s came into view, but he didn’t seem to actually see the store.

Harry was about to make his way around a small crowd in front of the shop, until Ron Weasley stepped into his path and waved his hands about to get his friend’s attention. “Oiye! Earth to Harry! Come back, Harry!” he said, sort of laughing at the same time too. The latter jumped and took a step back to allow his mind to re-adjust to what was going on before him. Harry’s heart skipped a couple of beats as he looked frantically about to take in his surroundings. Now with a mind finally settling and coming to grips with reality, Harry noticed that the little crowd upon the border of his foggy vision were the Weasleys. They all seemed to be amused, some were smiling and the twins were laughing their heads off. It appeared to him that they had been waiting for him.

The latter stared at the box for a bit, then reached out with a gloved hand and took the offering. With the other hand, he pulled away part of the ashen hued cloak and neatly deposited the box into the nearest chest pocket. “How much does your service cost here, Mr. Ollivander?” asked the stranger as he shifted his grip over to the other side of his jacket to reach for his wallet. He soon produced a nearly foot long, rectangular shaped, black leather thing that folded over like a book. The youth flipped it open upon his open palm to reveal rows of little slits stuffed with dollar pills on one side, and the other with coins used in the wizarding world. The only other time that Harry had seen a wallet like that, were of the rich, like Lucius Malfoy.

“Aren’t you going to check the contents?!” asked the shop keeper, incredulously.

Blue eyes met the silvery ones, looking up from his wallet and grinned beneath the shadows. “No, I believe that isn’t necessary. I trust you made the right choice. On the other hand, if you hadn’t, I would most likely come back to haunt you, sir.” The youth softly chuckled at his little joke to which the younger wizards did not get right away. He rolled his eyes at this, than asked the elderly shop keeper once more, “How much is service here?”

Mr. Ollivander just stared at the young man in bewilderment before he too, began to laugh at the comment. ‘Like that’ll ever happen!’ he thought to himself. Then out loud to his customer in waiting, “That’ll be seven galleons, young sir. In muggle terms, that would’ve cost you $51.31!”

“I assumed as much…,” replied the latter as his gloved fingers shifted through the slits, counting up and removing the right amount of gold coins known as galleons to this world. He weighed the money in his hand, thinking something over in his mind as he studied the glitter of the coins. Suddenly, the youth closed his palm and used two fingers to remove three silver, sickles out along with the numerous amount already there. He stretched his arm out towards the clerk and slowly dumped the payment into the awaiting hand. Mr. Ollivander quickly calculated the amount there and before he could interject, the youth said to him, “I’m quite aware that that’s too much there, but it’s the least I could do to repay you for the trouble of my task.”

Mr. Ollivander smiled warmly and nodded his head gleefully at this new found tip. “Thank you, sir! Thank you, kind, young sir! It’s not everyday that I get to meet kids as kind as you!” He bowed and then made his way over to the cash register machine to deposit the money.

While the elder was busy with that, the mysterious youth picked up his wizard’s staff with care and stood it on end before him. “Lanta kaima, Ita'istar...,” he softly whispered to it. Once more, the golden inscription glowed brightly and the tall form of the staff seemed to melt away, shimmer, back into the stubby, yet massive thing that Harry had mistaken for a wand earlier.

The youth held the now portable version of his staff in his left hand, as his right shifted down to his side to shove away some of his dark cloak over his belt. He looked down at the belt loop and slipped the wand into it as if he were re-sheathing a sword. The stranger grabbed the side of his cloak to shift it outwards and place it back over his side, but that was not before Harry caught a quick glimpse of a metallic colored hilt.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at the curious sight in thought and then quickly turned his attention back over to the pile of narrow wand boxes before the stranger noticed him staring. ‘A metal hilt…,” thought Harry, trying to make a connection. All of a sudden, it clicked and a light of thought came to mind. ‘Bloody hell, it’s a sword!’ He quickly looked over at the youth from the corner of his eyes before returning back to his theory. “A sword…but…but what would he need it for…?”

Just as Harry’s mind was recalling what the hilt looked like, someone said, “Pardon the interruption, young one, but what’s your name?” Harry’s head snapped up and looked about for the owner of the voice. A wave of a gloved hand near his face, got his attention to the youth. “My name?” he asked. The hood of the stranger nodded gently. “Harry. Harry Potter.”

The mysterious youth smiled and held out a hand towards Harry. “Nice to meet you, Harry Potter,” he said. The boy looked at his hand, hesitated, and than shook it. During that short time of contact, deep blue eyes looked right through the pools of emerald, searching for something of great importance. Once he found what he looking for, the youth concentrated a little harder which caused Harry’s eyes to flicker an eerie green for a fraction of a second. The strange glow proved to him that he had finally found the one, “him”, and that the search was finally over.

As Harry placed his hand back at his side, he couldn’t believe what he felt during that hand shake and brief eye contact. After he had introduced himself to the youth, the hilt…the sword’s identity…had come back to him from somewhere far off in his being. For some unknown reason, he had felt angry enough to yell at the stranger. Something like, “Hey! That’s my sword! Where did you find it?!” It was as if the youth had stolen something of his. This was becoming so confusing, and yet…

Suddenly, the sound of boots making the old wooden floor of the shop creak begin to fade beside him, cause reality to return back to Harry’s glazed eyes. He turned his gaze towards the open door that the youth was about to go through and bring in the daylight for a short time. “Hey, wait! I didn’t get your name!” said Harry urgently.

The mysterious youth paused in the doorway and slowly turned to face Harry. “It’s Larsen. Just call me Larsen, for now.” Then he looked past the boy over to the shop keeper and nodded curtly, “’Quel re!” The stranger turned to leave, but before he did, he said to Harry over his shoulder, “Saesa omentien lle, meloneamin…Elessar.” And with that, the mysterious youth left the little shop with a flick of his large black cloak into the rain and was gone.

Harry stared out that door, utterly stupefied to the spot. A part of him was kind of scared for he actually understood that strange language that the youth said to him. ‘He called me, Elessar. How did he know my old name? I have never told anyone that name nor anything about my dreams! Whatever has been going on in my head about Aragorn…has been my business. Just mine!’ said Harry to himself. The other part of him that was unafraid, was in some perverse way, relieved. Relieved to know that he would see this Larsen guy again and maybe get some answers from him of questions he didn’t know how to ask or could think up of.

After that excitement was over and reality rooted its way deeply into Harry’s mind, he spent the next twenty minutes to half an hour testing wands again. He soon came upon a wand that was crafted of the same wood as his old wand, but was infused with the blood, tears, and scales of a dragon from long ago and whose existence was unknown, instead of a single phoenix’s tail feather. Mr. Ollivander took the wand from him and inscribed Harry’s initials near the rounded end of the wand with a magical feather pen. He explained to Harry that he was required to do this now with the new models and other emergencies the owner may have with the wand.

Harry agreed that was a good idea, paid for his item, and left Ollivander’s to make his way down the busy pathways of Diagon Alley. Just as he was passing the joke shop, he began to worry if he should’ve waited at the shop for the Weasleys to come and get him. Harry had told Ron and Hermione that he would be there for a bit. Than again, he didn’t feel like retracing his steps back to there. He opted to keep going towards the end of the alley near The Leaky Cauldron and assumed that the family could be found there. Besides, Mrs. Weasley spent most of her day at the book shop, half the time they were here. No less looking for Lockhart’s new book. Harry would always roll his eyes at that for he couldn’t believe that she was still a fan of Lockhart’s after all that had happened second and fifth year.

He passed by many shops along the way, but none of them mattered enough to see what was showcasing in their display windows. Harry just couldn’t stop thinking of that stranger back in the wand shop and what they said to each other. He ran their conversation over and over in his mind until Flourish and Blott’s came into view, but he didn’t seem to actually see the store.

Harry was about to make his way around a small crowd in front of the shop, until Ron Weasley stepped into his path and waved his hands about to get his friend’s attention. “Oiye! Earth to Harry! Come back, Harry!” he said, sort of laughing at the same time too. The latter jumped and took a step back to allow his mind to re-adjust to what was going on before him. Harry’s heart skipped a couple of beats as he looked frantically about to take in his surroundings. Now with a mind finally settling and coming to grips with reality, Harry noticed that the little crowd upon the border of his foggy vision were the Weasleys. They all seemed to be amused, some were smiling and the twins were laughing their heads off. It appeared to him that they had been waiting for him.

“Are you alright, Harry dear?” asked Mrs. Weasley like a concerned mother. “We were just about to send Ron after you, since I had just finished my shopping. Also, did you have enough money for your new wand?”

“Yes, I did, actually. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” answered Harry shyly as he made his way over to the bench in front of the book store to sit down and relax his exhausted mind. He leaned the back of his head against the cool glass, and was grateful that there was an awning above his head to shield off the oncoming rain. Harry closed his eyes a bit, just to take the time to feel the cooler temperature outside today, welcoming it. Hearing the sound of splashing, moving water seemed to comfort him. Hmm…maybe the gentle patter of rain against his skin wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand against his forehead. Harry slowly opened his eyes as he looked up to see who was touching him. It was Mrs. Weasley checking his temperature. Her brows were knit with deep concern as she studied his skin coloration and temperature about his forehead. Just when Harry was getting the notion to swat her hand away, she stopped and stood back a bit. “You don’t seem to have any signs of a fever, deary. But, I think it would be best if we all get you home to warm you up and get you to bed soon. Don’t want you to get sick before the new school year starts and have to miss school for it!” Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly and patted his shoulder, “Get up, Harry dear!”

Harry got up slowly from his spot and thought that sleep did seem appealing to his weary body. He stretched his limbs a bit as some of the Weasleys began to make their way over to the Leaky Cauldron. Ron lagged behind the crowd of his family, just enough for Harry to catch up and wait for him. Just when Harry was about to follow, he got a sinking feeling that he was being watched. He looked about at the nearby shops, street corners suspiciously, and found nothing until he turned all the way around to face the book shop.

Harry studied most of the faces and bookshelves within’ the busy shop. Then his eyes widen as he noticed who was standing towards the back of the place in the historical section. The dark form of the mysterious youth, Larsen, was leaning against a book shelf, facing his direction. But, he didn’t seem to be looking in Harry’s direction anymore. Larsen was talking to another person dressed all in black and who was taller than both of them.

“Damn it, Harry! Hurry up!” yelled Ron impatiently. “Coming!” yelled Harry, not yet having turned his gaze away from the display window. He sighed heavily and decided that he would have to investigate this later or never again. Harry quickened his pace to catch up and match Ron’s side by side. They had just managed to catch up with the rest of the Weasleys just in time as they were about to close the entrance to Diagon Alley. Once all of the bricks had clicked back into place, everyone removed their rain proof cloaks and made their way through The Leaky Cauldron, back into a bright sunny day within’ the muggle world.

Sometime after Harry and the Weasleys had gone home, the mysterious youth and his companion emerged from Flourish and Blott’s to take their leave. They made their way over to the brick wall that leads to The Leaky Cauldron’s back entrance. The shorter one, Larsen, stepped forward and reached out with a hand to feel the texture and secrets of the passage. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The youth lifted his hand slowly from the wall and began to tap it with two fingers in correct precision. Magical properties within’ the wall accepted this, and shifted into an archway for the two lone rangers in waiting.

Larsen took a step to the side, in order for his companion to get by. Then he himself took a couple of steps forward and paused below the archway. The youth turned halfway around to gaze up at the cloudy skies above the alley. He took a few moments to admire the falling rain upon the stores below. Larsen breathed in the fresh air deeply, and then became very still like a statue. He seemed to be staring really hard at a section of the sky where the sun should’ve been able to be seen. His eyes began to glow a faint, sky blue and sliver of silver began to swirl within’ those deep pools of cerulean.

As the colors swirled within’ Larsen’s eyes, the sky above started to clear in a few patches of gaps between monstrous clouds. The fluffy clouds saturated with water, began to bottle up their crying and the occupants below became just a bit dryer. Once the rain had slowed down to a light drizzle, Larsen blinked his eyes and allowed his body to relax. He had decided that this was far enough, good ol’ mother nature could take care of the rest. Also, it wouldn’t look natural if had just let the rain stop, skies clear, and the sun come out of all a sudden.

When the mysterious youth had allowed him self to relax, the bright blue within’ his iris’s darkened to the hue of day at twilight. The slip of silver swirled around once more until it was drained into the vast darkness, abyss of his pupils.

Larsen looked about, allowing his eyes to refocus until his surroundings were clear to him. Then, he turned around to follow in tow with his companion through the fairly innocent looking tavern. As they wound their way past long tables and drunk wizards, Larsen knew that the weather above the alley would clear soon and none would be the wiser bellow those skies. Plus, he needed to change out of this old cloak of his before they reached the front door.

The youth reached up with one hand to push down upon the leaf shaped clasp of his cloak near his neck. The neckline parted and soon the stitches in the cloth began to re-route themselves. Threads began to change directions, sections of cloth began to come apart in strange places, and soon the whole design began to change, transform. Even bits of the cloth seemed to melt away and metal buttons and zippers appeared near the edges of the newly formed leather trench coat.

Nearby, Larsen’s companion had done the same, but only his was made of khaki, not leather. They both tied up their belts to close their coats, to prevent whatever they were carrying to be revealed in public. The hoods upon their heads were the last things to transform. Soon, the candle lights were able to reflect upon the lower half of their faces. The youth’s companion reached the door first and twisted the knob. And as they stepped out into the mid-afternoon sunlight, the two lone rangers lifted up a hand and pulled back their hoods to feel the glorious warmth of the dying summer.

~END OF CHAPTER ONE...CHAPTER TWO IS COMING SOON!~

Author’s Note

Wow, everyone! I finally finished the first chapter to this story! *dances about for joy* About time too, for this chapter took me about two months to complete. That’s if you count all those times that I got writer’s block. *laughs* I really do hope that you, my readers, are all enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. I got so excited as I was wrapping up this chapter and anticipating what I got in store for you all in the next chapter. Believe me, you’re going to get a kick out of and love it! ^.^ *eek* I will be introducing a new character from this chapter and have him become familiar in all of your eyes! I’m not going to say which one of the mysterious lone rangers it is. *wink wink* Omg! He’s going to be so kick ass! In looks…and just about everything! *clears throat* Anyways and on a high note, please keep a close eye upon my two new original characters throughout the story. They are vital to the plot and what is happening to Harry, too. ^.~ one more thing before I let you all go, like I said in my old author’s note at the end of this chapter, please keep coming back to check on this story. Just in case if I had added new content within’ a chapter without this whole story coming up as updated on the list of misc. stories. I will be almost constantly doing that here and at kmc forums. So keep a sharp look out and I’ll try my best to keep you guys up to date about my story!

Later (and see you around),

Sodapop Allerdyce

P/S: One of these days, I’m going to change my current pen name to this one above!

I would also like to thank my faithful reviewers: airangel429, Trickster, Laviera_J, Veralidaine, Christina B, miriel, Tonks, and Princess Aranel.

Translations/Terminology Log

Lanta kaima, Ita'istar = Sleep, Illusionist (from Elven Phrases)

Bragol alaa, Ita'istar = Enlarge, Illusionist

‘Quel re = Good Day

Saesa omentien lle, meloneamin…Elessar = Pleasure meeting you, my friend…Elessar (Aragorn)

Seven Galleons = $51.31; One Galleon = $7.33 (from the Harry Potter Lexicon)

Three Sickles = $1.29; One Sickle = $0.43

CHAPTER TWO: A WINDOW’S VIEW (SPOILER – TURN BACK IF YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO KNOW!):

Spoiler:
There’s always something special going on or about to happen on the first day of school in the wizarding world for a boy named Harry Potter. A new professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts arrives, his true identity and nature surrounded by great mystery. Harry observes him on the way to school and during the Sorting Hat Ceremony and wonders: Does he post any danger to anyone? (Especially him?) Only time will tell as Harry sits through classes taught by this stranger.

Author's Note to Everyone Here at KMC Forums: Chapter One is called In the Eyes of the Beholder.

UPLOADED: Sunday, May 02, 2004

Disclaimer: I don’t own a single thing that J.R.R. Tolkien and J.K. Rowling created within their stories.

Dead Man Walking

Chapter Two: A Window’s View

As the Weasleys’ station wagon pulled up to the front of the King Cross Station, Harry found himself unable to stop thinking about what has been happening to him this past week. Other than the memories of the mysterious stranger from a few days ago, he had been spending nights sleeping peacefully instead of having dreams that would cause him to wake and bolt up right. Harry personally felt that this was a bit unnatural, but all the same a nice vacation from spending his nights with nightmares to haunt his sleep.

He got out of the car and went around back to the trunk to unload his luggage to which Mr. Weasley was already doing and loading them carefully onto a portable cart. Once the station wagon had been emptied of all its burden, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led their pack of teenagers and Harry into the station to catch the 11 o’clock train to school. As they made their way through the crowds towards Platform 9 3/4, Harry saw some familiar faces of his fellow classmates, some of whom would turn to smile and wave at him.

He would return their kind gesture when he was supposed to be listening to what Fred and George were telling Ron and him about their forthcoming joke shop. Harry caught bits and pieces of the three brother’s conversation, but didn’t really care enough about the subject to bring it to his full attention and take part in the debate. By the time they reached the portal to Platform 9 ¾, he was relieved to hear the non-stop chatter fade as the twins raced through it before their mother could yell at them about something they said.

Since Harry and Ron were at the back of their little group, they would have to wait patiently until the twins would stop horsing around and teasing their poor little sister, Ginny. Ron just rolled his eyes in annoyance while Harry just smiled and tries his best to hide a laugh at her expense. Meanwhile, not far behind them in line and unknown to them, a tall mysterious stranger clad in all dark colored leather with his fedora hat low over the eyes, observed this small scene of commotion going on ahead of him.

Soon his attention wandered over to the boy stifling a laugh as he followed his red-haired friend through the portal. As the line before him began to quickly vanish, the strange sight of people phasing through a portal didn’t seem to bother him at all, but what did irk him was the fact at how ignorant all of these other normal humans around him were so blind as to not notice this. If he were just another ordinary person and didn’t have any experience for keeping a sharp eye out for the paranormal, he would have noticed this bizarre sight straight away.

The dark stranger mentally hesitated for a few seconds as he took the steps forward needed to get through the portal, but that didn’t make his pace decrease at all. He just straightened his posture, cleared his mind of all thought and feeling, and walked on through the strange portal that felt like walking through a cloud when it’s about to rain. As the stranger walked along, he was in complete darkness for a few seconds until he came out on the other side where it was a nice sunny day and this platform just as crowded and in a buzz as the one he left behind. He mentally shrugged for he had expected this much from what he had been informed about this place and other parts of the wizarding world.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron had made it out of the portal and went over to a nearby bench to standby and wait for any signs of Hermione. This year, they had arranged ahead of time to meet up here so that it would be easier to get seats together in a private compartment. After a couple of minutes went by, however, Ron began to tap his foot and complain about their friend’s tardiness out of his impatience. Harry knew all too well that his best friend wasn’t the patient type…and could get anal about it.

Sometimes telling him to can it didn’t help matters all that much. So, Harry just took it all in and let that voice fade to the back of his mind in order for it not to grind against his nerves so much. He did this whenever he couldn’t stand to listen to Ron’s ranting a moment longer. To keep himself occupied, Harry swept his eyes over the sea of heads, looking for the one girl with long, wavy golden-brown hair that was Hermione. He just happened to bring his gaze over to the gateway just as the tall, dark, mysterious stranger stepped through it and into the bright sunlight.

Harry’s body stiffened, and yet, held a steady and unwavering gaze as he took in the appearance of this newcomer. He felt as if he were eyeing an opponent, taking in their every move and calculating them into his memory to see if he needed a plan to defend himself. So far, the stranger gave no signs of means to attack, but that didn’t stop the warrior within’ Harry from worrying.

The dark clothing that the man before him wore was quite strange, out of place in a world like this. Some of the designs hinted that the outfit was of an outdated fashion and that this one wasn’t to be messed with. The dark stranger wore a black trench coat over a buckled up leather shirt that went over a white undershirt with a scarf the color of blood that wrapped about the collar and dangled over the front of his top.

His long legs were covered with black khaki pants and tall blackish-brown, leather boots with buckled straps that went up to his knees. The more interesting things about this stranger’s appearance that Harry had noticed right away, was the fact that the man hide his face with the low edge of his fedora hat, eyes hidden behind thin-rimmed shades in the colors of a sunset, and the rest of his face underneath an ash colored scarf that wrapped about his head with the ends draping over his shoulders. Also, his hands were completely covered by black leather gloves and his belt sported a flashy metallic x symbol.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

Author's Note: (Commentary and New Content will be added later and hopefully soon people!)

Harry kept his eyes trained upon this man like a hawk as the dark stranger began to thread his way through the oncoming sea of youngsters. To say the least, it was not difficult to track him for he stood out amongst all of the adolescents by height and by fashion. Also, the man didn’t take heed to the many eyes watching him, not even Harry’s, as he passed by Harry and Ron, over to the platform. The young sorcerer would hear the occasional muffled sounds of apologies as the dark stranger got by the crowds of students and their massive luggage in tow. Alas, those words of kindness were unidentifiable from Harry’s standpoint.

He felt tempted to follow, but was all too aware of the more urgent objectives on his agenda for today. Just at that very moment as Harry chose to sigh mentally, the sound of a familiar voice caught his attention. “Good morning, guys! Thanks for waiting for me,” came the cheery and inquisitive voice of Hermione Granger. “Sorry that I’m late, but muggle traffic was an absolute nightmare on the way here!”

~To Be Continued~

Readers Note: OMG! I was really getting in to that! Is the mysterious figure in the blood coloured scalf, ashen coloured scarf, khaki and leathers going to be a (love the eccentiricities and has a dark background - kind of have to love-) character? Or is he going to be a (Love to hate) character? I am dying to read on! I think I am going to love him! (even if he is evil!Lol

Keep going!artist

If you want to know what I am most interested in, then it is the relationship between Harry and Mr Mystery, and what is going to happen! bookSo exciting! 😱

clapping

Originally posted by Laviera_j
Readers Note: OMG! I was really getting in to that! Is the mysterious figure in the blood coloured scalf, ashen coloured scarf, khaki and leathers going to be a (love the eccentiricities and has a dark background - kind of have to love-) character? Or is he going to be a (Love to hate) character? I am dying to read on! I think I am going to love him! (even if he is evil!Lol

Keep going!artist

If you want to know what I am most interested in, then it is the relationship between Harry and Mr Mystery, and what is going to happen! bookSo exciting! 😱

clapping

Reply to Review

Hey Lava! 😄 thank you so much for taking the time to read and review my story with care. *hugs* always love to hear from my best gal pal from the uk!

anyways, don't worry. he's not going to be a character that you'll love to hate. he to be the type that everyone will think is dark, mysterious, and cool to be around sort. there is more that i can say about him, but i don't want to reveal anything ahead of the game. can't spoil things too soon!

i would keep going if i didn't get so much damn writer's block! 😠 i have tons upon tons of forthcoming ideas for this story and many others. but all i have accomplished so far is coming up with ideas and noting them.

i'm glad that you think that. as the story progresses, the connection between harry and the mysterious stranger will slowly be revealed, chapter by chapter. i won't say how they connect, other than teacher to student connection.

i so can't wait to write more kickass scenes with him in it! 😱 believe me, he's one of the best original characters that i have come up with by far out of all of my original mutant creations! he'll play a big part in the story and for what's to come.

if you read the chapter two spoiler at the end of chapter one, it stats that mysterious stranger is going to be hogwart's new defense agains the dark arts professor. keep a close eye on him out of all. he will bring much to the table. plot wise and dada class wise. *wink wink* 😎

hope to update this story soon,

sodapop allerdyce the sane psycho

Reply to authors Reply on Review

Yes! I knew he was going to be a character that would be the love to love character. Mysterious, cool...different! I cannot wait to see what happens! 😄

Originally posted by Laviera_j
Reply to authors Reply on Review

Yes! I knew he was going to be a character that would be the love to love character. Mysterious, cool...different! I cannot wait to see what happens! 😄

Reply to Review

Read this if you dare to see what the future beholds for him...(if you really don't want to know and desire to be surprised, than don't read this spoiler!)

Spoiler:
The incoming defense against the dark art's professor has much history with harry's past life, aragorn son of arathorn, king of gondor. He would seem to be the youngest professor in history to teach at hogwarts, but knowing his true age, he's by far the oldest.

"About bloody time!" yelled the impatient Ron and threw up his hands in the air. Hermione came over and gave Harry a huge welcome hug and then turned to Ron. Rolling her eyes, she said in a sarcastic aire, “Love you, too!” and then proceeded to hug him. Pulling back, Hermione placed a hand over her heart and put on a mock hurt expression. “I feel so loved!” She raised a hand to wipe away a fake tear. Ron just stared at her, clearly not used to her sarcasm. Huge smiles spread across Hermione and Harry’s faces from the sight of their friend’s expression and began to crack up at it. Soon, their slow, red-headed friend joined in.

Once the laughter died down, the infamous trio shifted their grips upon their luggage and began to haul it towards the opened doors of the boxcar that was admitting the passengers. As they shifted through the crowds, Harry looked on ahead of them and noticed the tall, dark stranger was about to board the Hogwart’s Express. ‘Huh…almost forgot about him…’ the young sorcerer thought. The man in question was waiting patiently near the edge of the platform as the conductor inspected his ticket and light amount of luggage. He was only carrying a few packs that dangled near his hips with shoulder straps that slung over his shoulders and chest.

“Who’s that?” asked Hermione, nodding her head in the stranger’s general direction for she found it rude to point at people. Harry’s emerald orbs quickly flickered over to her for a moment, than back to the mysterious man. Although he already knew the answer to that question, for some reason the latter felt like he had to really think about this for a moment before stating his conclusion to this strange observation. Harry felt as if…well, he didn’t really know what he felt, just…strange deep down somewhere in the pits of his innermost soul. At a loss for the right answer that he was getting bizarre notions from, Harry simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I dunno…” Sounded stupid, but true.

The scene before him changed and moved on as the conductor nodded to himself and returned the ticket to the tall, dark figure. The man smiled and offered kindly to help him with his luggage, but the stranger declined. Just as the conductor was about to reach out a lending hand to help hoist the latter up, the dark stranger lifted one knee and placed a foot upon the edge of the boxcar. Then he sunk his weight down upon the opposite knee and sprang up with ease to stand upon the entrance hallway of the Hogwart’s Express. Some of the first and second years gaped and went wide eyed at the sight for a few seconds, for their legs weren’t that long nor did they have the strength to do that. (Besides, the height between the platform and the entrance was about two feet high!) The lower end of the fedora hat shifted its attention towards the conductor for a moment and then continued on his way into the hallways of the boxcar.

Harry safely assumed the dark figure must’ve flashed a cocky, toothy grin at the elderly wizard conductor from underneath the ashen hued scarf. Shortly after that, the trio themselves were lent a hand in transferring their huge trunks and cages from station trolley to the train’s smaller trolley. Once they entered the fairly crowded hallway, Hermione chose a direction with less people and first years to find an empty compartment. She managed to find one down towards the end of the boxcar, closest to the divide that had an entrance that lead into the next one.

Since Harry was lagging behind his companions, he took the time to look down the hallway to the right and left of him as he waited for them to go in. Upon the second or third quick scan over the sea of faces, Harry gazed further down the hall. The sight of the dark stranger leaning against the door frame to his open compartment, captivated the young wizard’s attention immediately and froze to stare. What really got to Harry was the fact that the shrouded man was looking straight at him! No question about it, even with the golden shades on.

The latter lifted a dark clad hand to grip the edge of his hat with the forefingers and bowed his head in a polite nod that translated as an unspoken greeting. Harry felt himself absent mindedly return the gesture with his own curt, nervous one, even though he truly hadn’t intended on doing that. The stranger broke the staring match by turning away and shut the door behind him.

Wanting to be ride of this bizarre and somewhat freaky feeling from that incident, Harry quickly whipped his attention back to his luggage and shoved them up onto the nearest shelf above the seats that was still empty in his compartment. He sank deeply onto the cushioned seat, exhaling a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding.

~TBC~

Author's Note

To some of you whom read this story, but don't post a reply in this thread, could you please go to the ff.net link below and submit a review there for me? i would appreciate that very much! 😄 same goes for the ones who do and are my best pals here at kmc.

Fanfiction.net > Sodapop Allerdyce > Dead Man Walking > Please Submit Review!

Wanting to be rid of this bizarre and somewhat freaky feeling from that incident, Harry quickly whipped his attention back to his luggage and shoved them up onto the nearest shelf above the seats that were still empty in their compartment. He sank deeply onto the cushioned seat, exhaling a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. "Are you alright?" asked a worried Hermione seated directly across from him near the window.

Looking over at her, the latter said, "Yeah, sure! I'm fine..." Harry adjusted his position on the seat to more of a posture that resembled his normal confidance and strength. Hermione gave him a strange look for she could tell that this facade was a weak shield from the way her friend sounded a bit jumpy when he had answered her. "Are you sure?" she prompted, her brows knitting a bit with suspicion of the mask he put on.

Seeing as that he had no choice but to answer her since she was obviously one known not to drop the subject and pick up on pretty much everything that Ron and him seemed to be feeling, he answered as best he could. "My mind is not all hung up on Sniffles. Really, guys..." said Harry in his best reassuring tone that he prayed was exuding the confidance that he was somewhat lacking to feel within'. He referred and looked to both of them straight in the eyes to make his point clear and see to it that it was understood. "...To be truly honest here, I haven't been as depressed as you both believed..." He paused there for a moment, taking a moment to hesitate whether he should tell his two best friends in all of the wizarding world of his dreams...those strange visions or "memories" that he had at night. Then again, Harry felt like that they wouldn't understand somehow. He didn't know why he just couldn't blurt it out to them... "Heh...too many years of exile has made me more reserved than I like to be...kind of scary." said the young sorcerer to himself.

As that flicker of a humourous memory, Harry's mind suddenly jolted to life and ran through the red light to realization. "Me in exile?! ...what the bloody hell...?!" His brows knitted slightly and his gaze lowered to his lap. Hermione and Ron, left forgotten with their friend in such a deep reverie, narrowed their eyes in concern and studied him carefully. They were curious as to what was going through the Boy Who Lived's mind. Strangely, he didn't seem to be at the point of crying, but more of having a face that was in deep concentration that he normally whore when he was deeply serious about wanting to beat the crap out of Malfoy when he was being a royal git or was about to face danger head on without exuding much fear.

Coming to the conclusion that he wasn't just about to admit his "visions" to them, Harry decided to change the subject over to the mysterious stranger that was taking residance in the compartment down the hall. "You know that really tall guy we saw boarding the express not too long ago?" he asked, returning his focus upon his companions once more. Their expressions were of worry and then melted away into one of understanding and eager to listen. "Well...I have this really strange feeling about him...or maybe I'm just being paranoid because that's how I feel around most strangers. Anyways...I saw him looking directly at me before I came in here. He said hello but with no words, as in he just nodded his head and all...and hat! I returned the gesture, which was odd...But, that's not the point! What I am saying here is that I got some kind of freakish notion that I should actually know this man!" Hermione and Ron gave him skeptical, disbleiving stares. "And...I don't think he's the kind that you just happened to run into somewhere! Don't ask me how, but I...I feel as...as though we go way back..." Harry let out the rest of the tension in his breath come out in a heavy sigh from such a heavy load of realizations that were beyond his comprehension...at least for now...

Ron's face was scrunched up with an incredulous expression of fantastically outrageous belief being difficult to absorb. "Blood hell..." he whispered under his breath. Then raising his voice for his friend to hear, "How in the heck do you know that?! That man is covered from head to toe in a funky looking outfit that's not even of the wizarding atire! How can you possibly tell who he is?" Ron emphasized certain parts of his speech with hand gestures that had been a habit since childhood. "I mean...you have to be freakin' psychic to know that! Unless you know something else that we don't..."

Ron was interrupted in mid-sentence for Hermione had placed a firm grip upon his shoulder, signaling him to stop his raunting. "Ron, will you please calm down? Don't make this into such a big deal," she said in a mild scolding tone that she normally used with him when he was being overly dramatic. "You're going to make Harry feel bad for even speaking up in the first place." The red head's eyes narrowed at her, taking in what she said and then his expression softened as he looked over to his other best friend with apologetic green eyes. "Sorry...," the latter said shyly out of embarrassment for his behavior. "I didn't mean..." Hermione slipped her hand off his shoulder and back onto her lap.

Feeling a little better from Hermione's chastizement of Ron, Harry smiled softly and shook his head, "No really, Ron, it's okay...I understand that was alot to handle. Even I'm having trouble with figuring this out!" He raised an arm to gesticulate his own uncomfortable bewilderment that landed back at his side to rest. Since none of them had a clue as to who was the mysterious stranger aboard the express, they all put the subject to rest and wait until they got to the Great Hall for the feast and the Sorting Hat Ceremony. They were going to rely on the Headmaster to reveal this during his speech.

After the train took off from the station and for the next overbearingly long passing four to six hour ride to Hogwarts, the golden trio talked about their summer vacations, their forthcoming classes for the year, and played multiple rounds of Wizard's Snap and Wizard's Chess to kill that time. During the middle of the journey, the Food Trolley came by their compartment and they eagerly purchased refreshments. Another trolley dropped by nearly an hour or so later to ask them if they would like some sleeping supplies just in case they wanted to take a quick nap before arrival. Hermione and Harry eagerly excepted the offer, so that forced Ron into getting some too.

As Harry was setting up his pillows near the edge of the window, Hermione placed a charm upon the twin seats she shared with Ron, so that an individual seat could slid forward and lean back like a muggle car seat. This would give both of them enough room to sleep on a seat instead of the hard, cold floor since there were no cotts available in the compartment. Harry and Ron laid down upon their make shift beds and moved about to get comfortable. They whipped their thin wool blankets over their bodies just as Hermione clapped her hands to douse the lights from all the way in her bed.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, for he was able to stretch out his body completely across his lone row of seats without any worries of accidentally hitting his neighbor in his sleep without realizing it until they were rudely shaken awake. He was, of course, referring to Ron since the red head did have a habit of having wild sleep behavior. "Ron can be such a drama queen..." sighed Harry mentally and grinned a private amused grin. He felt his mind sinking and finally accepting the sandman's magic to make him fall asleep and temporarily forget that his dreams weren't normal anymore. The small smile upon his face soon faded away to give him more of peaceful and angelic appearance as he lay there, now asleep.

This time of rest did not go wasted by viewing darkness behind closed lids. The swirl of colors within' a blurry image began to stream along Harry's mind behind his sleepy eyelids. A familiar sensation of a gentle breeze and long locks of dark brown hair flopping about and tickling his face welcomed him into the otherside of the world and time that his dreams brought him everytime. Soon, Harry's vision began to come into a sharp focus as he took in the figure of Eomer standing before him, surrounded by his fellow and loyal Rohirim. He felt his mouth moving, saying something with a worried conviction, "They would only seem child to your eyes." Harry recognized his new voice as Aragorn's. He felt his left arm move to demonstrate the height of a halfing that he was referring to.

Eomer's wide raven eyes studied the ranger for a moment, considering the possibility of a race of people that were that short. He slowly shook his head and gave Aragorn an apologetic look, "We left known alive..." Eomer looks grave for a moment more than placed his helmet with the marking of a horse crowning the top that covered most of his head. The loyal Rohirim did not notice the look of distress upon Harry's face as he remounted his mighty stead. Eomer quickly gave a fleating glance over his shoulder towards the burning pile of dead orcs near the edge of Fangorn Forest and than turned back to Harry. "I advise you not to linger here much longer, this land is cursed by the White Wizard, Saruman." And with that, he yelled to his men and they went galloping off towards the northern borders of Rohan.

Harry moved his stern gaze beyond from where the horseman had been standing to where he had seen Eomer looking towards. His eyes widened at the sight of the pile of black bodies and dark smoke pillowing out from it. The ranger's heart began to constrict with grief of what he hoped wasn't true to his mind as he began to make a mad dash over to the clearing near the edge of the forest. Harry could hear two pairs of feet closely behind him, following suit. The young sorcerer worried not for his new outter self knew it was only his fellowship companions, Legolas and Gimli.

~TBC~

By the time he reached the top of the hill to the clearing, Harry could plainly see the remains of a battle and the burning corpses of the dead. Sad emerald eyes stared upon the gruesome pile and doing nothing more than that mattered for now. He didn't take much notice to the movment beside him when Gimli stepped forward to examine the remains with the blade of his axe. But, when the ranger did notice this action, he was about to tell the dwarf to leave the dead in peace and show some respect until the latter held up a familiar elven sword sheeth from the wreckage. Gimli said something aloud, but Harry didn't hear him for his heart sank to an all time low. His body seemed to have become numb from grief and failure. Such intense and sudden were these emotions washing over him, that it made the ranger feel weak in the knees and crumpled to the ground upon them.

Harry cried out in pain for the loss of the fellowship's youngest members, Merry and Pippin. He felt his fists clench into balls and raising them towards the heavens every so slightly, in an weak attempt to tame these wild emotions. All the while, repeating mercelessly over in his mind was, 'I've failed to save them...' This ranger had never failed to keep his promise...until now... In the background and somewhere over these depressing matters, Harry could hear the soft voice of an elf chanting a silent prayer in elvish not far from behind him. Legolas was hoping that the halfings' souls would find peace and ascend to the heavens above.

Ever so slowly, the realization that they could do no more for their lost companions, dawned on the ranger's mind and heart so that he bowed his head down in resignition. He was also struggling some to hold back his unshed tears that were threatening to fall and for all to see that their great leader wasn't as strong as they were lead to believe. Harry stared straight into the ground for a while in a blind state. Soon, he tried to get his mind to quite mourning by allowing his eyes to explore the curves in the soil and disarrayed grass. A few moments went by like this, with every single sweap of the area becoming increasingly fascinating to the ranger.

Harry tilted his head to the side a bit with new found glory in exploring this sight. His brow furrowed as information came flowing forth into his mind and rapidly clicking into place. Depression was tossed aside from the discovery. He scanned the ground further from where he was kneeling and got to his feet. The sudden movement after a long time of solumn peace, snapped the other hunters out of their dark reveries and immediately focus on him. They came up to him and Legolas was the first to voice his curiosity, "What is it, Aragorn?" Without tearing his fixated gaze away as he began to take careful steps about the battle torn earth, in a soft, distant tone the latter said, "The ground is still soft from the previous night's battle."

Harry took a couple of steps forward to then squat down and run his hand near a patch of bear earth that had a small indentation. "A hobbit lay here...and their wrists were bound..." Like a path in a maze, he was eager to follow the small path of flatten grass left by bodies that had been crawling away from their captors. "They crawled on hands and feet..." Further ahead and with Legolas and Gimli not far behind, Harry squatted down again to pick up a thick mass of rope with the ends frayed from rough and frantic severing. "...their bounds were cut..." The ranger leaned over a bit to examine the tiny footprints that left depths of varying sizes in the soil. Harry quickened his pace, as did his companions. "The tracks lead away from the battle!"

The texture of the ground below his gaze began to change as he went along. Tufts of grass, once plentiful in the Pleannor Fields, began to thin out and the turf was soon covered by dead leaves and bark from nearby trees... Harry rasied his emerald orbs upwards abruptly to confirm that indeed the tracks were leading them towards a forest. He came to halt before the edge of the dense gathering of trees. "...into Fangorn Forest..." said the ranger in a stupor of awe. Harry froze to the spot, his breathing almost ceasing like when he halted, for he was not familiar with the layout of this rarely treaded upon territory. 'Why...?' the hunter asked himself, but was cut short by a strange outside noise of some sort.

Wonderful shades of nature began to blur and smear until the scene no longer made sense to Harry as the Fangorn Forest. Colors were quickly surrendering to the darkness, of nothingness. The boy's mind was in a slight panic at the sensation of that other world being torn, taken away from him when he wasn't expecting it nor prepared to let go just yet. No longer could Harry feel the wind upon his face nor the teasing of long silkly locks. All of this other world was being replaced by the gentle rocking of his body upon something soft. Sensations of warmth of a blanket and a unruly short fringe were amongst the first things to welcome the Boy Who Lived back into reality.

Taking in these new sensations and the familiar sounds of an express train, it dawned on Harry that he had fallen asleep earlier and was riding the Hogwart's Express to school. Also, to be duely noted, he always felt nausious, dizzy, after a dream like that and sat up too soon before it went away completely. He decided to remain where he lay, neatly sprawled out upon a set of seats with his face angled towards the window in satisfying comfort. With his eyes still closed and ignorant to the world around him now, Harry allowed his mind and other senses to do the exploring instead of his opticals taking it all in. Other than the noises the train and gusts of wind were making, the faint sounds of soft breathing hinted that his friends were still asleep across from him to his left.

There was also something else...Something that he remembered picking up beyond the boundries of his dream. Harry concentrated hard to ignore all of the other noises to hear this mysterious one. Suddenly, just beyond the window that his pillow was smashed up against, there came the distinct sound of wings beating. From the way that great amounts of air were shifting, the wing span of whatever was out there sounded huge, enormous. The more that Harry heard and thought about this, he came to a conclusion that this thing wasn't far away at all...More like the window was the only thing seperating them. Growing ever more curious, the young sorcerer's eyes flew open and turned his body half way around in place to get a good look outside.

Fortunately enough, Harry had accidentally fallen asleep with his glasses still on the bridge of his nose. He used two fingers to push them up higher to bring everything into better focus. Emerald fields (orbs) shadowed by the darkness of night, laced with sleep, scanned the slumbering world of passing landscapes and puffs of black smoke from the engine of the express. The long slender form of the smoke would furl as the wind played and teased them this way and that. Harry wondered vaguely, "What's so special about that?" Huge, mighty wings slapping the air could still be heard and seemed to draw nearer to him. The boy's eyes widdened as a large form began to phaze its way through the trail of smoke.

So much like the huge wingspan that he calculated earlier, the shadowy figure that was attached to them was even bigger. Although he could not see the entire body, Harry could see the shape of a pointed snout and a elongated neck floating before the whisps of smoke. The Boy Who Lived suddenly became confused as to why he wasn't afraid like most people exposed to a sight like this. Instead, there was the hunger to know more. Ah, a magical creature it was, but of what kind? Such a shame that it is so dark out... Suddenly, and without warning, the creature opened its big golden eyes. Harry gasped and that sudden intake of breath seemed to catch in his throat.

Those eerie orbs of gold seemed to reflect the moonlight and made them shimmer, giving them the appearance that they were glowing in the night. Also, making it difficult to spot the huge black slits within' that were cat like in shape. Eyes that were like a sunrise in its golden phaze, slowly and gracefully turned the head to look over at Harry. The glow vanished for a fraction of a second as the creature blinked. They soon returned to stare at those strange eyes behind the window nearby. Bizarre moltingly bright emerald orbs were meeting its curious stare and wonder. Within' the frame of a few seconds, the eerie green flashed a couple of times and slowly faded back to their normal, calm and expressive emerald nature. There was no doubt in this creature's mind that it had flown over to the right compartment.

~TBC~

The longer that Harry stared down into those golden depths, the more he mentally nagged himself for not even beginning nor showing signs of fear and even panic with an unfamilair creature in his sights. Just didn't seem natural to the young wizard. If Harry did take more time to think about, he would've realized that he hadn't felt nor known the infamous emotion in quite a while. The mortal coil of ingnorance did not run deep within' any corner of his soul. Determination and courage were a dominating trait for both his innermost beings. With the remaining shadows of sleep uplifting from his form and the return of some common sense, Harry lowered one hand to fumble around for his wand in his pant's pockets. All the while, never did his gaze wander away from the creature's.

Many times, did his fingers find nothing but the rough texture of his jeans for he wasn't putting much effort into the searh. Harry only needed his wand for a bit so that he could use a magical light spell to get a better look at what the mysterious flying figure outside was. Meanwhile, beyond the window, the dark form studied the young sorecer's facial features and stature. In a way, measuring him up to see the truth in what his younger companion had told him a few days ago about this young one being "him." It still couldn't quite grasp the concept of such a mortal as youthful as this one could endure and live up to their king's entity, soul. Then again, many of these people it was surrounded by these days did seem awfully young compared to this creature in age.

Suddenly, the furling trails of thick black smoke began to thin down to the point where the landscape was becoming visible through it before the luminious eyes. The eyes narrowed in deep thought, no longer thinking about the boy. With given knowledge of many forms of transportation, namely trains in this matter, the dark figure became aware that the express train was about to come to a stop shortly. The golden glow upon the slenderly shaped head turned its attention to what was up ahead. Tiny orbs of torch lights flickering in the distance from the school's station told the creature that it must not linger here any longer than necessary. Also, it determined that the location of their arrival was about five to seven miles away and passengers would need to be notified soon. Raising the golden orbs a few degrees higher to gaze beyond the train station and with a wide landscape dividing the property, the castle known as Hogwarts stood proud and noble upon the uprising formation of earth.

When the moltening gold shifted away from their staring match, Harry was left to wonder as to what had distracted it so. The hand that had been searching for his new wand had just given up, for getting a glimpse of the creature didn't seem to matter right now. Reflecting upon what he had just seen with the smoke, he could now see more of the shape that defined the winged magical creature. Although Harry still couldn't tell what it was, his eyes could indentify a fluffy mane running along the neck and concealing the other features upon the slender head. The long dark locks moved like the waves upon a calm ocean surface with a gentle breeze tossing it about playfully. A few locks of the mane poured forth over one eye and with a graceful swish of the head, it flipped to the side. This behavior reminded Harry of a horse that he had only seen in his dreams.

He smiled at this for a while until the sound of a magical PA system knifed through the moment and silence. The sudden break in the stillness nearly made Harry leap out of his skin. He shifted his attention back inside the compartment to hear the announcement. "To all passengers aboard the Hogwart's Express," said the low, booming voice of an anxious train employee anouncer. "We will be coming to a stop in about ten minutes, so I suggest that you all wake up from your naps and prepare to board off! Thank you, that is all!" Silence reigned the compartment for a few short lived seconds until grumbles of protest came from the sleepy Hogwarts' students. Harry could hear his friends begin to stir in their seats, including the colorful words that the redhead was muttering under his breath. The brunette rolled his eyes at the thought if Ron's mother were here to hear those words.

By the time that Harry looked over to see Hermione sitting up and stretching her tired muscles, it suddenly struck him that he had forgotten about the migestic creature outside their window! Frantic emerald flickered back over to the view outside to only find that the dark figure had vanished. Harry leaned a bit closer to the glass, looked side to side, but found no sign of it. "Bloody hell...! thought the Boy Who Lived, cursing for letting the strange sight go like that. In the background across from him, Hermione clapped her hands a few times that allowed the lights to come back on. Their compartment was soon fluded with brilliant light to which Harry closed his eyes and winced from the sudden, sharp pain of his pupils diolating so rapidly.