To Forks!
Harry landed down in Forks, Washington, USA with a clear mind. For once he was excited and not lost in the lingering bitterness he felt towards the world. It was clearly early in the morning, he guessed around 8 am, but being up early didn’t bother him for once. He felt so free, feeling the misty air on his skin, the scent of cut grass filling his nostrils, and birds chirping in his ears. It was perfect here. He’d heard it rained most of the time, and even when it wasn’t, it was cloudy. It’s not that Harry hated the sunshine, but he did find he much preferred the rain and gloom. Perhaps that was Death's influence on him. Forks was rainy, it was damp and muggy but looked so magical all the same. The trees were tall and looming, there was a certain charm to the overgrown lawns. It made Harry think that perhaps fairies and pixies hid behind the tall blades of grass. He could see the beginnings of his new neighbourhood, it helped him find his bearings. He began to walk in the direction of his new home.
He fished into his pockets and looked over his new ID.
‘Harrison James Black’. Born June 11th, 1988,
‘Making me 17’ He thought, smiling cheekily.
According to Death, there were actually other Blacks living here that really were related to Sirius. To them Harry would be a long lost nephew and cousin from England that came to find his last family members out there, and if he thought of it wasn’t exactly a lie. Sirius had blood adopted him before the events in fifth year. While Harry still resembled his father and mother, he did have some of the Black blood flowing in his veins now, making his hair more curly rather than wavy, his chin slightly more pointy rather than squared. Plus his great grandmother was Dorea Black, so even if he hadn’t been blood adopted by his father he would have shared blood with them.
Harry thought back to his last interaction with the otherworldly being, he was stern with Harry, giving him an earful about ‘being on his best behaviour, to stay out of trouble, and to only call on him if he really needed to.’ It made him scoff, knowing Death would come simply to annoy Harry and get revenge for the 6 years he himself had spent annoying the being. It was so refreshing, to not feel suffocated, to feel excited at the prospect of living again. Maybe it was a blessing that he had spent so much time in limbo, before he’d gone, he was nearly suffocated by the grief and loss he felt. All he can remember is wanting it to end; to be free and die at last, but now, he finally felt ready to live again. He was still haunted, he had nightmares more often than not, but he wore his grief on his shoulder instead buried deep in the pits of himself. It was no longer all he was, but simply a part of him he was still learning to live with.
Harry forced himself out of his head and literally skipped down the road, feeling glee overtake the freedom. It wasn’t long until he was sprinting to his new house. He skidded to a stop as he looked up and saw his new home, a quaint white bricked house with a nice front lawn, vines littering the exterior and a simply magical looking tree shading the home, if his memory served him correctly it was the non magical version of a womping willow, simply a willow. He felt pure joy just from looking at it. Maybe he could add a swing, he knew that was something muggles liked to do.
As he was about to make his way up to the path towards the front door, he heard a voice call to him,
“Hey son, you my new neighbour?” came a stern voice that shook him from his excitement. Harry glanced over and saw a tall, lean but built man with hair black and thick with a sharp black moustache to match. He wore a police uniform, and Harry assumed was on his way to work.
“Good Morning Sir, and yes, I just moved here today.” He replied politely. Even though Harry was never intentionally rude to adults, he had a certain knack for offending them, and so he decided that being extra polite to his new cop neighbour couldn’t hurt. The man walked around his car and made his way over to Harry. He looked him up and down before throwing out a hand. Harry grasped it tentatively before returning a firm handshake.
“Names Charlie Swan, I’m the police chief here in Forks. You came here alone kid? You’re awfully young to be moving to a new country.” He asked, eyeing Harry up and down, it was clear that his cop instincts took over at the foreigner.
“My name is Harry Black sir, I did come here alone but only because I have no family left in England. My father died a few years ago, but I did some research and found I have relatives close to here still in La Push.” He replied with a bright smile. He saw something flash through the older man’s eyes, probably pity, before Mr. Swan broke out in a big smile, his wariness fading.
“Ah I see. You must be related to the only other people with the Black name close to here. See, I know the Black’s well. Billy’s an old friend of mine, his son Jacobs probably ‘round your age too, maybe a year younger.” Harry smiled at the man, he could tell his sort of uncle and Mr. Swan were likely good friends just from the way his eyes shone with clear affection.
“I’m very excited to meet them, but I won’t lie, I am a tad nervous.” Harry said, a timid smile on his face.
“No reason to sweat it kid, Billy’s one of the nicest guys ‘round here, you’ll be accepted right away. Plus you’re family, and family’s real important to them.” Harry flashed the man a wider smile before the excitement of his new home took over again,
“Mr. Swan, it’s been a pleasure meeting you but if you don’t mind I would like to go unpack. Perhaps we can chat again sometime soon?”
“Call me Charlie, and I’m sure we can figure something out. Say my daughter is moving down from Phoenix, she’ll be here in a few days now, and Billy’s got an old truck he’s selling to me. Might be the perfect time to break the ice.” Charlie said, clapping Harry on the back.
“That sounds brilliant, thanks Charlie. It was really nice meeting you.” Harry said, beaming up at the man.
“You too kid, see you ‘round.” And with that he strolled back up his driveway and into his cop car, driving away.
Turning around and continuing to his new house, Harry realized he felt lighter. He’d already managed to contact his uncle and tell him he was coming but wasn’t entirely sure on how to bridge the gap to an in person meeting. Sure, he could probably just ask, but it was still nerve wracking, Harry did exactly have a lot of luck with family after all.
He made his way inside and gasped with delight. His house, his very own home free from bad memories was perfect. Death had taken the liberty of setting up furniture for him so all Harry really had to do was unpack. He pulled his wand from his pocket, cast a spell and had all his possessions surrounding him. Just as he was about to begin levitating them to their new homes, he hears a soft scratching at the window. There sat a beautiful grey owl with jewel green eyes. He walks over and lets it in, the owl immediately flies up and perches on Harry’s shoulder, softly nudging him with her head. He glances down and sees a note attached to her leg.
‘Imp, I know you have been missing having a companion so I took the liberty of getting you one. She has no name. Do try and stay out of trouble, Death.’ He chuckled to himself and stroked the owls' soft feathers. She was truly gorgeous.
“Hello girl, I see you’re my new friend.” He said softly. The owl perked up and cooed at him in return.
“Hmm what would be a good name for you? Perhaps Jade to match your lovely eyes?” He asked her. She nudged her head against Harry’s and cooed softly.
‘I suppose that’s a yes then,’ he thought with a smile. He reached down and grabbed a few owl treats for her.
“I’ll have to order you a perch girl, I don’t have one anymore but I’ll make sure you have a nice home too, in the meantime why don’t you find somewhere you can sit so I can unpack.”
He said, giving her one more pat on the head. She cooed again at him and fluttered over to the stairs railing, leaving Harry so he could unpack. He turned to the mess on the floor and started putting things away. Slowly but surely he made his way through the piles until only a stack of documents remained.
‘Might as well properly look through these.’
He had his birth certificate, American citizenship card, passport, school registration papers, his insur— What the fuck.
School registration?
He looked it over and realized Death had played him. Not once had he mentioned school, Harry just assumed he wouldn’t have to go, I mean he’s not been to muggle school for quite some time. Of course, while he was in limbo, he did brush up a little bit on muggle studies, so he wouldn’t be too far behind the other students, right? He looked and saw he had transcripts from a previous high school. Did Death really go through the trouble of faking high school transcripts for him?
He sighed, of course he did, he would of done it just to mess with him. He glances wearily at the date on the papers.
Tomorrow was Monday, and it was his first day at Forks high school.
Harry spent the rest of the morning and afternoon tidying up, finding suitable places for everything and meticulously cleaning every surface in his new home. Finally once finishes he decided he’d better go grocery shopping because even though he was immortal, it didn’t mean that he didn’t get hungry. He decided to bring a temporary aging potion so that he could pass for 40 and buy some well deserved liquor. He walks to the nearest grocery, stopping near the back and tucking himself into a corner before taking a few swigs of his aging potion. He rapidly stocks up on veggies and meat and continues making his way down the aisles. He sees a few bottles of well aged whiskey, popping a few bottles into his shopping trolley before quickly deciding he may as well snag a few bottles of the barrel aged red wines he was eyeing up. As he continues making his way down the aisles, he stops short and stares in awe at the sheer number of American treats he sees. He quickly snatches up a few bags of crisps, his eyes were immediately drawn to the ‘barbeque’ flavour, and something called ‘sour patch kids’ before paying. Harry knew realistically they wouldn’t be real children, but just the thought of Americans eating something resembling a sour child had his interests piqued enough to try it for himself, he wouldn't judge because Wixen ate animated chocolate frogs and they were delicious. He quickly makes his way to the cashier before his potion wears off.
On his way home he pops into the mall and gets some new clothes. All that he had to his name were his old wizarding robes and Dudley’s hand-me-downs which he would not be caught dead in ever again, especially when he’s making a fresh start for himself. He bought a fairly decent amount of jumpers, graphic shirts and jeans, he even grabbed a couple of slacks and some nicer collared shirts. He bought himself a nice black jacket and some boots and sneakers too. The cashier's face was priceless, she had definitely assumed Harry must be some rich kid spending his parents money, he chuckled to himself flashing his credit card and paying. He was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that Death had forced him to watch videos on muggle technology, how to pay using the plastic cards, portable calling devices called cell phones and something called a computer (basically a digital library). While a lot of this had been around when Harry was at Hogwarts, he’d never really been exposed to it and muggles were always rapidly expanding, constantly bettering themselves technologically. Making his way through the shopping centre, something called a CD store catches his eye. He stops in, spending his sweet time browsing the various CD’s lining the walls. He notices a few Radiohead and David Bowie CD’s that he gladly picks up. He’s gotten quite into them after spending so much time with Sirius and Remus. He carries on and stops somewhere to pick up his school supplies and a nice black backpack. As he was about to leave when his eyes caught sight of an electronics store. He pops in and immediately sets his sights on the cellphones. He’s never had anything like that before, only seen them in passing. The closest he has been to anything even resembling a cell phone was whenever he’d seen Dudley play on his video games but was never allowed to touch them or else he’d face the wrath of uncle Vernon. He bought himself a nice phone, picked up a CD player, and made a mental note of coming back to look at something called a ‘computer’ and carried on. He was still anxious to be in school again, to be the new kid again but he also knew he had to be around other people, to have other company besides Death himself.
As he made his way home Harry felt the excitement of the day slowly seeping away into a general tiredness. Upon reaching it he felt the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up come to a head. He slowly put his groceries away and poured himself a neat whiskey. He then made his way up the stairs to his bed, throwing his bags of clothes onto the floor, and promptly plopping down onto his bed with a sigh. He quickly downs his whiskey, summoning the open bottle back upstairs and refilling his cup. Before he could sleep, he had to set his alarm for school and set up his new phone. The man had said it would be simple enough, just plug it in and pop a little chip into it. Harry struggles more with the box than he’d care to admit, he grows more and more frustrated trying to figure out the right way to put the chip into the device, he ends up drinking two more glasses of his delicious whiskey, refusing to let the frustration deter him. Finally he gets the bloody thing in feeling victorious and quickly lighting up when it finally worked. He smiles to himself and quickly etches some runes into the device to make it more impervious to magic. Muggle technology had a tendency to explode when in the presence of magic so he thought it best to stop that before it can even begin. With his latest success under his belt, he gets up to get ready for bed. He stumbles to the bathroom brushing his teeth, stumbles to change into his pajamas and yes, stumbles brushing his hair. Bloody hell, he got drunk on the night before his first day of school.
As his head had hit the pillow it suddenly dawned on him that he had no actual way of getting to school, and he couldn’t very well apparate there. With scowl, he flips onto his stomach and grumbles into his pillow. He stayed like that for a few minutes before groaning and sitting up, deciding to try and figure out a way to fix this. He staggers his way to the living room, casting a quick tempus once there to check the time.
‘7pm, maybe I can ask Charlie for a drive.’
Harry shakes the thought from his head, it’s terrible form to ask your brand new neighbour for a favour after only knowing them for one day. Trudging through his house until he reached the front door, he grasps the knob when it hits him, maybe Death had brought Sirius’s motorbike here? With renewed hope he rushes to the side door, praying for an easy solution and flinging it open. He gasps casting his eyes upon the beautiful motorbike that once belonged to his adoptive father. Although Harry had crashed it multiple times in the past, magic did wonders to fix it, in fact, it still looked just the same as it had when it was his fathers still. Harry rushed over to it and noticed a few pieces of paper on the seat. One was his licence and the other his registration.
Smiling to himself Harry casts ‘expecto patronum,’
“Thank you for the motorbike Deathy, really thank you for everything,” He paused for a moment before cheekily adding, “Bet you miss your best friend though.”
He then turned to the radiant stag, “Please take this message to Death.” It cocked its head to the side before bounding off and disappearing.
Harry smiles to himself while putting the registration into the little side compartment and walking back to his room. He put his license into his wallet before plopping back into bed. Just as his head hits the pillow he hears a booming crack.
‘Pleased don’t be who I think it is, please.’ He groans.
“Hello, Imp.” Harry groans.
“Deathy, what brings you here?” He says sitting up. He quickly summons another glass and pours himself another whiskey.
“A bit late to get drunk isn’t it Harry?” Death says, humour lacing his voice.
“Need something to help me forget your ugly face.”
“Oh come now Harrison, no need for that. I’m simply here to remind you TO NOT CALL ME DEATHY!”
“Ugh not so loud, honestly you’re more of a git than I remembered. Also, it’s a term of endearment, and you should be flattered.” Harry replies snarkily.
Death rolls his eyes and takes a moment to stare at Harry before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
"So, how are you faring so far Harry? What do you think of your new town?”
Harry shrugs, “It’s alright so far, not seen too much. I like how gloomy it seems, which I blame you for by the way, goddamn limbo was real shite, no sunlight just constant darkness.” Death chuckles before standing, he turns away from Harry and looks towards the window.
“While I don’t necessarily disagree, I will say I cannot be the Lord of Death without some gloom. I loathe stereotypes, but that one remains true." Well Harrison,” he turns and winks at Harry causing him to roll his eyes, “I best be off, my work never stops after all.”
“Oh yeah sure, go back to your mistress.” Death raises an eyebrow,
“Your paperwork Deathy, can’t keep the missus waiting.” He says cheekily. Death narrows his eyes and moves to loom over Harry.
“Watch what you say Imp, I can still set you on fire again.”
“Sir yes sir!” Harry replies with a mock salute. With one last eyeroll Death goes to apparate away but before he can Harry calls out to him,
"Oh yeah Deathy, did you really have to enroll me into high school? Honestly, what made you think that was a good plan?" Irritation laced in his voice. Death turns back to Harry with a smirk,
"Dear Harry, I thought it would be the perfect environment for you. Besides, Lady Fate and I had tea together and she simply insisted on it!"
"You're telling me that Lady Fate is real?"
"As real as you and I, young one."
"I know you're a real nuisance." Harry mumbles under his breath.
“Now now, no need to insult your best friend Harry.” Death’s smirking is really getting on his nerves.
“I’m your best friend, you’re not my best friend.”
“Ouch, that does cut my dear. Nevertheless, I hope your first day of school is just as faithful as foretold, perhaps you’ll feel pulled in the right direction." And with a familiar crack, he's gone.
Harry quirks his eyebrow at the empty space, he feels as though there were definitely clues in that last statement for what Lady Fate has planned for him, but his eyes are tired, his mind weary.
And so he lies back in bed, turns off his light and quickly falls into a nightmarish sleep.