Horse
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Tri Wizard Campion and now newly crowned Attention Seeking Lying Boy who killed Cedric Diggory the true Hogwarts Campion. Harry has a love hate relationship with the wizarding world. the worship and laud him over their heads as savior when faced with threat from "dark forces" and hate him when he does anything else. A tool to fight, a shield against harm and a puppet with no choice.
Harry mused how his life has gotten worse as he ages instead of getting better. He wonders what he would be like if he wasn't cunning enough to not show his claws and teeth to anyone unless in life threating situation. Must be depressive and filled with reckless thoughts of self destruction.
Harry might not have been the sharpest tool in the shed but he was smart enough to understand the undercurrents direction and float with them. The wizarding world wanted a proud chivalrous Gryffindor who will lead the light side and heir of Light trained by Albus Dumbledore, fighting against Dark.
The Magical Ministry has not yet established a clear definition of what constitutes Dark magic, resulting in a broad range of practices, creatures, and even potion ingredients being categorized as ‘Dark’. Pureblood Dark families has been losing major investment and generation of businesses and contacts. No wonder Slytherin are being arseholes to him.
Harry has learned one thing from the Wizarding World. There is power and the fight for power is destroying the magic inherent to Britain. Two wars one after another causing more than thousands of death. Families are being wiped out en masse because of power hungry dark lords and self serving light lord and useless Ministry.
Harry finds himself caught in the crosshairs of an impending conflict, the consequences of which are as unpredictable as they are dire. His life feels as if it’s hanging by a thread, with his death seemingly inevitable, the only question being when. He has lost hope when the monster raised from horrid bubbling nauseating cauldron. The first blood has already been drawn, it will be soon blown into big conflict.
Harry was anxious and tired and guilty. Guilty of Cedric's death. His dreams are plagued by the older boy's death eyes and high pitched laughter intoning the Cruciatus curse. His day light thoughts are plagued by upcoming school year and the utter silence from the Wizarding World. There is no news, no letters, no sightings, even muggle news hasn't reported anything abnormal that can be related to magical incident.
Harry looks down at his hands covered in dirt and sweat. He is in Aunt's backyard weeding and leveling some parts of the garden to get rid of death plats that turned crisp because of the summer heat. The grueling work under mid summer heat has been hellish and he wished he could sleep and never wake up for next ten years.
Harry longed to be someone else—anyone else. He yearned for a life without the Potter name, free of the cruelty of the Dursleys, a life devoid of magic, one where Voldemort’s wand never spared him. The darkness under the stairs, the cold cocoon of broken toys and dust-ridden sheets, even the sharp corners that bit into his skin—all felt preferable to the fate that awaited him.
In the depths of Harry’s despair, he found himself longing for freedom, hoping against hope for his friends to write back, for Sirius to whisk him away from Privet Drive to safety, for the looming threat of Voldemort and his dark followers to vanish, for his parents to somehow be alive and well.
A cool breeze rustled Harry’s unruly hair, and as he pushed it back from his face, a curious sight met his gaze: a dark-winged creature, prancing and preening in the front yard of number 12, unsure of what was unfolding before him. His chest started feel funny.
If he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither — vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister.
Harry couldn't process what he was seeing for few minutes. The creature turned around and finally made eye contact with him. the funny feeling intensified. The creature gave out a cry that was neither horse neigh nor dragons roar but definitely soul scaring.
Before he could react the Creature started to bound and fly his direction. He started feel his magic reacting but not like when he is usually in danger but differently in new manner. The Creature was faster then anything he has seen before landing on the flower bed some distance front of him it slowed down at last possible minute.
He was frozen and not able to move an inch as the Creature neared him. He thought this the way I am going to die. Mauled by some dark sinister Horse-Bat creature. He could feel his magic bubbling under his skin almost bursting out. Wide eyed he watched the Creature near him and then it was close to his face.
And he was still frozen by some invisible force. He tried to move his fingers and reach for his wand tucked in his pant pocket. Anything but it was like he was petrified. The Creature was centimeters away from moving closer and he could feel it's breath on his face. It stopped and then his thoughts abruptly stopped.