Harry doesn't get to go out often. More times than not he's left in his cupboard with nothing to do and no way to keep track of time besides the counting in his head and even then it sometimes faulters. He doesn't get good things and when he does they're usually left to him broken in a matter of minutes, or ruined beyond repair by mean words and harsh treatment.
So Harry can say that he is very very happy that Aunt Marge is a very persistent woman. She doesn't like Harry and she takes it as her mission to make Harry feel like he's an absolute stain. She hates him and does everything in her power to make sure he knows he's hated and to torture him any moment she can get.
So when she brings up her plan to visit a beach and rent out a vacation house to celebrate something or another of hers, Harry is very happy to get out of the house due to her insistent taunts on how much fun it would be to take and Harry and make him watch as they had fun while he didn't. Another form of torture but Harry has never been out of the house beyond a run around the neighborhood running from Dudley (Honestly Harry doesn't know how he manages to run so long when he can barely put enough energy into walking down to stairs to eat, It's like he makes it his personal mission just to hurt him as Marge does.) or hiding in the park a few blocks down near their elementary school.
Marge has managed to convince them to take Harry with them to the beach. He won't be playing but he will be sitting in the sand watching them.
"Having fun there are you freak!" Dudley laughs, it sounds suspiciously like a pig squealing and before Harry can see the boy, a bucket of water is dumped on his head and then he promptly gets shoved into the sand with his wet clothes. Harry takes it well like he always does, he lays back in the sand and pulls his knees up towards his chest in a ball as he watches with a sad frown.
Don't take him wrong he loves that he's out of the house really it make the torment a little more bareable. The doesn't mean he's has to love it though. There's sand matted in his hair and his clothes are sticking to him. His aunt Marge yells at Dudley to come to her and Harry almost smiles at how hilarious she looks in her swimming suit. Dudley runs off, still squealing like a pig, towards his mother and father. Harry's eyes sting but he pushes himself up to sit, ignoring the way his clothes cling to him and the sand has got into places it should never. He watches with a longing as the family of four play in the water. Aunt Petunia has taken to sun tanning with Aunt Marge as they gossip about what's happening I their lives and sneer at people as they all by I their own bathing suits.
Harry has a suspicious they they're also gossiping about the people who are objectively prettier than both his aunts combined because they're jealous. He doesn't point it out. Harry is far enough away from them that he can't hear them and could be considered a child who was left alone by his parents on the beach. He's spotted by a pretty woman with dark skin like his and Hazel eyes. She ends up sitting beside Harry while she asks him questions.
"Are you lost?" She asks. Harry goes to shake his head. The girl had already asked him twice and he'd told her no. He pauses glancing behind him to the Duesleys and his Aunt Marge. They aren't paying him any attention to busy caught up in the awful sandcastle Dudleys trying to make. Harry nods his head turning back to the pretty woman. She's been talking to him for a couple of minutes, nonsensical things like her name and why's she's on the beach. The girl sighs in what could be relief and holds her hand out to Harry. Harry stares at the offered had feeling a bit confused but he takes it as she pushed them both to stand.
"Come on let's see if we can find your parents." She says it kindly but Harry finds himself feeling a bit guilty about lying to her. He pointedly keeps himself quiet because he cannot lie for the life of him without his voice wavering. He holds the pretty woman's hand tightly and walks around the beach with her. In the opposite direction of the Dursleys thankfully. She asks a few people they pass if they have seen anybody who's missing a child. All of them answer no and they continue to search for Harry parents, that he knows are dead and buried somewhere far away from the beach.
They end up taking a break and the girl ends up building a snap castle on the opposite side of the beach. Harry knows she's going to probably go to the police afterwards and Harry will most likely have to explain that he lied to the woman and then the dursleys will end up being called and Harry will get in a lot of trouble. The pretty woman smiles at him and it's kind and Sweet and Harry almost feels normal for once. She takes him into the water to play with another family when he asks. They end up digging a trench and putting a crab there while he searches for shells with the family's little girl.
Harry almost feels normal, like he's a part of their family even though he doesn't know any of them. The woman then tells him they have to leave to go find his parents and Harry waves goodbye to the little girl. When Harry realizes that they're not going to search the beach anymore he turns to the woman and stops.
"What's wrong?" She asks worry coating her face as she crouches down to face Harry. Harry opens his mouth to speak when he hears something it's like a whisper, indistinguishable but he hears it. His head tilts as his mouth closes. He turns his head to the side away from the girl.
"Did you find your parents?" The girl asks. Harry turns back to her then let's go of her hand and turns to the whispering. He follows it like it's a beacon. It's like he's in a trance of sorts. He hears the whispering and it gets louder as he moves towards it. When he gets to the point where it's distinguishable he realizes it's hissing. Much like a snake. It's still indistinguishable but it's a harsh hissing that has started to give him a headache. He makes a pitiful sound like a muffled whine and puts a hand to his head.
The hissing stops almost immediately, cut off and abrupt and Harry blinks his eyes at the shining blue wisp of light in front of him. He drops his hand watching the wisp as it dances in front of him. Maybe he should follow it, maybe he should go. Harry doesn't think he wants to go though. It's a pretty thing and he's never seen anything like it before. It's just floating there with nothing holding it, almost like magic. The wisp moves a giggle like noise echoing around in his head as he follows it. It has him moving and walking until his feet hurt and he doesn't know where he is anymore. It takes him through a forest, until the darkness has started to swallow the sun.
It doesn't stop and even when Harry feels dead on his feet, like his legs might fall off it keeps him going, like a force of unknown nature keeping him conscious through this entire endeavor. He keeps walking and walking for what feels like an eternity following the bright blue light.
It takes him into water and then to a small little opening into a cave that had been slowly falling to pieces that he just barely manages to squeeze through. The wisp doesn't pause for him until they reach what looks to be a boat. The only source of ligjt coming from the wisp, so small amd not nearly as bright enough to show hi m what lies ahead. The small boat leads Harry into the waters, dark and empty with something short of a veil of ink sitting over the top, and he takes it wherever the boat wants him to go.
He doesn't reach out to touch the waters, the wisp doesn't want him to but his curiosity is still there tingling in the back of his mind. Wondering what ever could the little thing could want. They hit a small island and Harry blinks, turning away from the waters to see the dirt in front of him. The wisp doesn't move and Harry presses forward to touch it. It glows, bright and illuminating and blinding Harry has to cover his eyes amd seconds later the light burst into fireworks and Harry stumbles back splashing into the water.
Immediately hands start to grab at him and pull him under and Harry blinded can do nothing to stop them. His lungs are squeezed open a second later when something grabs him by the throat. Harry can't see anything beyond Draknes shut he know that's not normal. The way it feels slimy and Cole and extremely bony like a slugged skeleton is trying to kill him. He inhales a lung full of water and then like clarity has rung over himself he screams.
It burns and hurts and he can't breath. Theres water and hands everywhere and they're dragging him down. His heart is pounding so hard that it hurts his chest. His eyes slam shut and his heart abruptly stops. The hands keep pulling him and Harry finds himself struggling to stay alive. There's a brighter burst of light behind his eyes and Harry stops as his world goes entirely dark.
He breaths in air that he hasn't in years. The slime on his flesh shedding off like a second skin leaving him cold and bare. His hair is matted and tangled and his skin clings to his bones like a flesh suit made for a Skeleton to wear. Underneath it all is an untamable hunger that wakes the moment he breaths in the smell surrounding him.
Flesh.
His eyes shoot open and there's nothing to stop him from seeking out the smell. He doesn't have to go far there are plenty of others like him all of them to disoriented and in the process of being reborn to do anything but lie there.
It's in their nature when they shoot up just as he in search for the smell. It's in his when he shoots forward towards the few who have already begun to awaken, clawing at their skin and shredding them to pieces. Blood and flesh digging underneath his nails. Soaking his fingers, palms and forearms in it all. There's nothing beyond blurs off colors as he feasts, his tongue and teeth soaked in the crimson fluids.
His own skins gets clawed at and he rounds on whoever it is that dares to hurt him as he takes to them next.
He digs into them with his hands, plunging further into organs and bones alike. His teeth at an unnaturally sharp point, break into the organs to rip them apart so they'll go down better. At one point blood sprays across his entire face as he bites into something, at another he feels the very distinct meat like substance get stuck in between his teeth. He doesn't care no matter how unbecoming it would be if he were in his right sane mind.
He gorges on them all, his stomach filled with all their flesh, blood and organs. He doesn't stop, not until he may pass out or until his stomach is filled and it doesn't have to be satisfied anymore. He has an underlying feeling, beyond the cravings for human flesh and animalistic hunger, that it may not be satisfied for years to come.
When he's finished, the hunger is still there but there is nothing left for him to feast on. It seems satisfied with what's he's taken in for the time being. He cleans himself, much like a cat would, by licking off the remaining bits of blood and skin that lay underneath his nails and have soaked into his arms.
When his head rings clear he breaths in deep and opens his eyes. He still lies in the cave where he'd died and there's nothing more than wet dirt and a hill that leads to something. He glances around himself. Strangly, beyond the blood soaked dirt, the water that had once been flooding the entire floor has been shoved up against the walls making an fortress of a water dome over head. The cave as itself looks to have been crumbled there's light from the sky shining through the rooftop of it that has been blown open wide.
He rises to his feet and stumbles in his steps. Being dead for as long as he was must have messed with his senses but he feels as good as if he had been fully healed moment prior. He must have been, but by what and who?
It's then that he notices it, like it was hidden from his eyes while the massacre of Hunger had taken place. But there in the middle of it all is a little boy in clothes far to big for him to be considered his own. He looks no older than four and he wonders who the boy is. His stomach weighs him down heavily as he walks, he almost wants to throw it up but the thought that the hunger may return and he may just gorge himself on the small boy who must have saved his life keep him from doing so.
Not to mention that eating a child just feels inheritly wrong, let alone this one that gives off the aura that he'll bring himself right back to life if only to watch you suffer.
He takes stumbling steps his way and stares down in a blankness so like him that there's nothing more than a mask of indifference on his face. The boy is bloodied himself and he wonders why the smell hasn't reached his nose yet, or better yet why he hasn't eaten him too.
He tilts his head to the side and stares. The boy is pale but his skin is most definitely a light Carmel shade that's has slowly been loosing its color due to the blood loss. His hair is messy likes a birds Nest and it would have made him wrinkle his nose if it wasn't for the fact that he fair no better. And behind it there lies a mark that pulses slightly with a glowing gold light. The boy breaths softly and slowly and he watches as the blood seems to soak back into his skin.
The wounds he's seen, no doubt claws of the undead Nefiri. Seem to have started healing themselves closed. Stitching together and piecing his skin back into place. With a final blast of the glow light the boy inhales a deep breath.
Then much like he himself the boy shot up quick as a whip and held his hand to his chest as though h he couldn't breath. For a second the boy seems well and truly bewildered then his eyes seem to catch on his shoes and the boys eyes dart up to his.
Instead of looking like the boy may just choose him as his next target, He would have fought the boy over his new chance at life and that would have truly been an awful experience, he hurtles towards the side and throws up what looks to be inky black sludge. He wrinkles his nose then, the smell foul and sewage.y.
"Did you save me?" Although save could be considered the proper word in any case he doesn't feel like he's been saved considering the newly added bit of his new life. Cannibalism is something he would have never thought he'd acquire ever.
Through his fringe the boy looks up at him and then shoots backwards away from him as far as he can go without losing sight of him. He tilts his head at the boy and then the wet feeling of blood slipping down his collar has him remembering.
"Ah." He says likes it doesn't bother. Then he rises his hand to his face and his fingers come away bloody. The smell of sewage returns to him and he wrinkles his nose the boy whimpers in front of him.
"W-who are you?" The boy mutters and he tilts his head in thought. Who is he? He doesn't know hasn't known for a couple of what years? He knows that anything slightly muggle would ruin him and that he's a proper wizard. Muggle? An odd strange word but familiar in a way. This boy looks an awful lot like one. What was the question again? Who is he? He can feel it prickling at the back of his head. Who is he?
"What are you?" The boy whispers to himself scared and looking like he may not cry. But he does not hear him to busy trying to remember.
Who is he? Well he knows he's a failure that's for sure. But who is he really? That question remains unanswered because Regulus himself cannot answer it.
Oh. Right.
"Regulus Black. And you?"
To be considerably honest with you Harry had thought that he may have, might have, maybe been a bit of a magical person. A witch or wizard or God. How else would he have shrunken dudleys sweater to the size of a mouse when Petunia tried to force it on him. How else would he have been able to understand that garden snake he found when he was four and weeding out the garden.
Whatever he was it involved magic. But his relatives were firmly again all of the hocus pocus nonsense and Harry had thought it was stupid just a coincidence.
But standing in front of him is what he is absolutely positive is a dead man who just massacred people. Or weell he probably ate them if anything judging by the absolute drench of blood surrounding his mouth and throat. Dripping onto clothes that cling to him with water but look well and truly a few sizes to big. And that well and truly terrifies him into silence.
He made this happened. How else would there be waves of water that he had just been drowning in shoved as far away from him as possible. How else would there be a man who is obviously dead standing there staring at him with a peculiar expression. And how is he not injured. How is he alive?
"Well?" The man says the blood dripping further down his chin Harry whimpers and the man furrows his brows.
"What's your name Boy?" Harry shrugs. He doesn't know.
"Harry." Harry shrinks in on himself as the man looks obviously agitated.
"Harry what?" He snaps Harry pushes back further his chest pounding and his heart slamming into his ribs with vigor, his ears are ringing and he's scared.
"I–I don't know." He whimpers ducking his head into his knees but keeping his eyes on the man in front of him. The waves make a loud splashing sound and suddenly there crashing back down. The mans eyes widen and a second later Harry's being gripped by the arms and held close.
"Hold your breath!" The man shouts and Harry instinctively does just that his need to momentarily survive overpowering that fear. The water swirls around them in a tornado and Harry is thrown back into the inky black cold. The freezing water make him dizzy and his vision blurs as the water slams into him knocking the air out of his lungs forcing him to accidentally inhale a lung full of water. He chokes and clings to the mans shirt as his legs kick and Harry's vision blurs again going black and spotty. Though he can't see anything for the life of him all of it is inky blackness because of the water that looks like tar.
Before Harry can black out again he's thrown onto the small island where he'd started and he's hacking out the water that had choked him. The man pats his back roughly until he breaths, flopping forward into the dirt. Regulus sighs behind him and Harry heaves, eyes halflidded and tired. He's been through two life threatening instances already. He just wants to sleep. He closes his eyes feeling eternally exhausted.
"Kid?" Harry mutters something unintelligible to hismelf eyes falling shut.
"Kid!" Harry doesn't hear much more before he fals into another darkness one less cold than the other.