He was furious. Beyond furious.
“You think you see through me, do you? Well I see through you.” he all but shouted, jabbing her with a finger. In an instant, she’d gripped his hand and twisted. Before he could register the pain, her other hand came up and shoved against his body.
He felt himself fly back - but not just back - up. Even as he flew backwards he blinked around, feeling almost weightless. Vertigo hit him almost immediately.
There, in front of him, was his own body, almost frozen in time.
The terror was immediate.
What had she done to him?
She moved her hand as if reeling him back in and he felt a tug - an inescapable tug. He wondered if he was going to throw up. He was sucked back into his body and before he could even reorient himself, a silver shape burst from him, shoving both the other occupants of the room back. He staggered at the loss of contact but the shape coalesced into a stag; a gorgeous, massive, stag, and it stood directly in front of him, supporting him. He leaned against it a moment before standing straight, the shaking in his hands not all together from his injuries. He knew what this meant; this meant somewhere in the world he had a soulmate, and this was them subconsciously protecting him.
The man who’d first found him made to step forward but the stag huffed out a breath, pawing at the ground and lowering its antlers threateningly. It did not want them any closer to him. It was the ancient one, however, who spoke.
“It seems I underestimated you.” she murmured, before turning her gaze to the stag. She bowed her head towards it, and after a moment, it returned the gesture. It did not, however, move from in front of him, watching the two others with a careful gaze. When it did finally look away from them, it was to turn to Strange himself. It nosed against his cheek, checking him over, and he offered it a shaky smile, his hands coming up to stroke its flank.
“Do you still not believe in a balance of the soul?” the ancient one asked. Strange tensed. How could he argue against such a thing when the embodiment of his other half stood in front of him. He could only shake his head, stroking a finger along the ridge of the stag’s skull.
“You’re absolutely beautiful.” he murmured. The stag tossed its head back, obviously agreeing with him, and he couldn’t help a huff of laughter. Apparently modesty wasn’t something the stag felt. Considering his own self pre-accident, he couldn’t really be surprised. He turned back to the Ancient One then, hands pressed against the stags flank.
“Will you help me?”
For a moment she just stared at him, gaze flickering only once, and even then briefly, to the stag. The stag tossed its head in answer, and she bowed her head.
“Very well.”
>>>
He was on the mountain top, cold seeping into his bones, hands shaking from the effort of trying to cast. His body shuddered and then there was the stag, standing over him in all its majesty. It helped him to his feet, used its head to nudge his arms up once more. Then it dipped its head so its antlers rested under his arms, steadying them.
With the stag’s warm body against his, and the support it offered; Strange conjured the portal.
>>>
When he learned to Astral project, he was stunned to find the stag always there. Sometimes it was active, sometimes it was just resting, but whenever he was in astral form, his stag was there, a quiet presence; a quiet comfort. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was where all soulmate animals rested when they weren’t protecting. Considering he never saw any other animals though, he doubted it.
He stroked a finger along the stag’s snout, smiling as it shook him off, nudging him with a doleful look in its eyes.
He only wished he could ask the stag to guide him to the one it represented, but he knew that was impossible.
>>>
Harry was running as fast as he could, sides burning from the strain. A spell blasted into the wall next to his head and he ducked away, pushing himself as hard as he could even as he tossed spells back over his shoulder.
It had only been a domestic incident; a reported stolen artifact and he’d been going to interview the woman who’s belongings had been stolen. Routine and basic. Without danger. He’d taken a rookie with him, because it was supposed to be simple.
Now, Remier was lying dead feet from the woman who’d placed the fire call, and Harry was running for his life through the maze of halls the house had turned into.
They’d been lured into a trap and some sort of magic was not only keeping him trapped in the maze of corridors that sprung from nowhere, but wasn’t letting him call for backup.
He was tired, he was bleeding, and he was vastly outnumbered.
A sinking feeling in his stomach told him he might have finally met a situation he couldn’t get out of.
Even as he rounded the corner he came face to face with a wand and he only just managed to throw himself back to dodge the spell, but it had him overbalancing, sending him to the ground.
He threw up a shield spell as a last ditch effort, breath coming in sharp pants as he gritted his teeth against the strain.
From the halls, nearly a dozen figured bled out of the shadows, surrounding him. Spell after spell blasted against his shield, all but painting it with their bright colours, and Harry only had a moment to be in awe of the strength of magic once more before he felt it buckle. The first crack appeared, and he looked desperately for an exit, but he knew, instinctively that there were none. He fell to a knee when the shield collapsed, barely catching himself, and he braced for the incoming spells.
“Always so reckless.” came the tutting voice, and Harry’s head shot up, eyes narrowing at the sight of the wands pointed at him but not a spell shot forth. He didn’t recognize the voice, but with them all wearing dark purple cloaks, faces hidden by enhanced shadows, he couldn’t hope to recognize faces either.
He pushed to his feet, wand still in hand, and wondered just what they were waiting for; could feel the prickle of dread even as his chin jutted forward.
“You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don’t know a thing about you.” and it was true. There hadn’t been so much of a whisper of whoever these people were; and it was clear they were up to no good when they’d already killed two people that he knew of, and had him cornered for no reason save for the fact that he was an auror. The fact that he was the boy-who-lived-twice was something he hoped was just an added benefit.
“You don’t need to know who we are. We know you well enough.” the same voice replied easily, almost eagerly, and that pool of dread grew into a rock in the pit of his stomach.
He may not have faced this particular group before, but he’d certainly experienced this type of fanatical crazy; the kind that wished to experiment on other wizards; particularly those who’d accomplished unusual feats.
Being the Saviour of the Wizarding World had the unfortunate effect of making him a target to more than one such group.
He felt the shift in weight in his hand and didn’t have to look to see that Death’s wand had replaced his own, and he knew, grimly, what that meant.
He was moving between one blink and the next, shooting off as many spells as possible, both offensive and defensive, but even he knew he hadn’t a hope to beat this many opponents, even with the advantages he had.
When a spell clipped his shoulder that had his arm dropping uselessly to his side, overbalancing him and sending him crashing painfully into the wall, he could only watch in mild horror as a sickly purple spell, the colour of the robes, flew towards him in seemingly slow motion.
The burst of power boomed outwards, blowing out some of the walls. Harry found himself falling back and braced for a fall; he’d climbed a number of stairs as it was; but instead of falling he felt solid ground beneath his feet. He stumbled in surprise at the impact of ground so much closer than he expected, and landed on his ass on the ground, only barely managing to keep his wand up. He heard more than felt the crack of bone and he knew without looking that the arm he couldn’t feel was at an unnatural angle from catching his fall.
He hardly had time to think about that though, because standing in front of him; or rather, floating in front of him; was a man. He had a red cape on that floated all on its own, and he was too corporeal to be a ghost, but not enough to be a normal person.
“What are you?” he blurted out before he could help himself, and the man turned brows raising in surprise at the sight of him.
“I’m an astral projection.” he glanced around, and the moment his gaze went past Harry, alarm spread over his features. Considering the chill Harry felt settle over him, he could understand that alarm.
“Is an astral projection like a projection of your soul? Out of your body?” Harry asked, speaking as quickly as he could even as he scrambled to his feet. When the man didn’t immediately respond, Harry glanced over his shoulder at him to see him staring in surprise. Harry just stared back, impatient. “Well?”
“Yes.” was the succinct answer, and Harry nodded sharply.
“Great. Stay behind me.” then he turned to face what he hoped was only a few dementors. One if he was lucky. He could already feel the magical exhaustion setting in and he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to face more than a few. “Whatever you do, don’t let them touch you. They consume souls and I have a feeling your form will only make you more vulnerable.” He looked down at his arm then, grimacing, and cast a quick spell to immobilize it. At least that way he wouldn’t damage it further.
“You can do magic.” and once again the man sounded surprised. Harry made an inelegant sound, not turning his gaze from the darkness in front of him. It wouldn’t do to be caught unawares by a dementor.
“This coming from someone who appeared out of thin air and blew a whole in a magical maze. Do me a favour and let me know if any of the bastards you blasted come out of the house. I’m hoping your rather violent appearance keeps them down for at least a moment.”
Even as he spoke, he saw the first dementor split from the shadows and heard the man take a sharp breath. Harry drew in a breath as well, clearing his mind as best he could. Then he lifted his wand.
“Expecto patronum!”
The familiar stag burst from the end of his wand, lighting up the darkness, and it was with relief that Harry watched it chase off the single dementor before that oppressive fear ebbed and the darkness no longer seemed quite so threatening.
It trotted back towards him and he leaned into its side gratefully, turning to look back at the strange man.
The man who was staring at his stag with recognition and disbelief. Then his gaze snapped to Harry.
He opened his mouth to speak even as a groan sounded behind them, and Harry grimaced, body sagging in exhaustion.
“Hold that thought.” the man said, and then promptly disappeared from view. Harry just stared at the empty space and then the first of the robed figures spilling from the blasted hole in the house. He knew from the open grounds around him that he was nowhere near the house he’d been sent to check out in the first place. He looked at his patronus who looked right back, and he stood up straight.
“Get help.” he told it, and it bowed its head before shooting off in a burst of light.
Harry planted his feet, raising his wand once more and trying to steady the shake in his hand. Even as he prepared to fight, a circle of light burst into being in front of him, and before he knew it, what could only be a portal appeared.
He stared, slack jawed, as the man from before stepped through, this time perfectly corporeal. He looked at Harry over his shoulder with a smirk, and now that he was in a solid form Harry could appreciate the silver that touched the hair at his temples, the confident set to his shoulders, the sharp lines of his face.
“Leave them to me.” the man announced, and with a flick of his hands, Harry felt something pushing him down to sit. He went easily, though that was mostly because the last of his strength failed him at the simple push. Before he could protest though, the man turned to the house, and with a few sharp movements of his hands, runes seemed to blaze into life in front of him, and Harry watched in awe as he trapped the ones who’d attacked him without even uttering a single word. When the first crack of apparition sounded behind him, he jolted, and at the sound of Ron’s voice shouting his name, he felt himself start to slip. He saw the man jerk around, ready to fight, but he couldn’t even open his mouth to say these people were friendly because darkness swamped up to claim him.
>>>
Harry woke up feeling groggy and out of sorts. He knew without even opening his eyes that he was in St. Mungo’s, but that didn’t at all make him feel better. He hated this hospital.
“I wouldn’t move too quickly if I were you.” Came the dry tone at his elbow and his eyes flew open in surprise.
“You’re real.” and he would’ve been embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that he often saw people who shouldn’t be there; though most of them tended to be dead. The man just lifted a brow at him and he scowled, reaching for his glasses.
“To be fair, you did appear out of nowhere in a non physical form.” he defended, and watched a smirk shift the features of the man’s unfairly attractive face.
“Says the wizard.” and Harry huffed out a breath.
“Who are you?” the smirk dropped.
“I thought that was obvious.” For a moment Harry was ready to argue - and then he sagged back, still exhausted. The concern that pinched the man’s brow triggered something in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.
“Look. I’m grateful for your help. Without your appearance, I wouldn’t have been able to break out of there. But I barely remember what happened.” and it was true. He remembered the gist of what happened, but his bleary mind was still trying to piece together the memories. He must’ve been much worse off than he’d thought to be recovering this slowly.
“I’d say that’s exactly why I appeared.” and Harry blinked. Even in his state he understood that implication.
“But - you’re not an animal.” and now the blush did spread across his cheeks. The man actually laughed.
“No, I’m not. But Astral Projection is normal for me. And I often see your stag there. He’s protected me a time or two.” Harry fell back against his pillows, at a loss for words. A hand entered his periphery, and he watched a scarred hand close over one of his own. He gripped the fingers back tightly.
When he looked back up, the man was watching him with guarded hope.
“My name’s Harry. Harry Potter.” and there wasn’t even a hint of recognition in the man’s eyes. It had his own hope blooming.
“Stephen. Strange.” Harry blinked, smile of his own appearing.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.” was the dry reply, and Harry laughed.
“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Strange.”
“I’m a doctor actually. And Sorcerer Supreme.” Harry was fairly sure he was grinning like a loon.
“I’m the boy-who-lived-twice, Saviour of the Wizarding World.” Stephen’s lips twitched.
“Seems we have a lot to catch up on.”
“Help get me out of here and we can catch up as much as you want.” Harry all but pleaded, glancing at the door. He was surprised nobody had come to check up on him, and he knew that only meant his chances of escape were slimming.
“You were severely injured.” Stephen argued immediately, but Harry waved him off with his free hand.
“And now I’m practically fully healed! Look, my arms not even broken anymore!” he said with a wave of said arm. He immediately winced, because while not broken, it was still extremely sore. Stephen rolled his eyes. “Please.” Harry pleaded. “If you don’t get me out of here now, we’ll probably get swarmed, and then it’ll be days before I can get free. And when the prophet gets wind it’ll be a media frenzy.” he could practically see it already and felt himself grimacing.
Stephen’s hand tightened around his and he looked up to see the man staring. Harry felt the flush crawl up his cheeks again against his will. With a sigh, Stephen stood, finally letting go of his hand, and he couldn’t help the noise of disappointment at the loss of contact.
“I can promise you that my method of travel is way less nauseating then that mess you call apparating.”
Harry only had time to blink before Stephen was circling a hand in front of him, and the portal from before appeared.
“Come on then, step right through.” and Harry didn’t hesitate to do just that. Even as he left the bed, an alarm went off, and he gave an almost giddy laugh at the immediate bustle outside the door that disappeared from sight behind Stephen as the portal closed. He spun around, unsteady on his feet, but impressed nonetheless.
“Incredible.” and he spun back, beaming. “Teach me.” Stephen offered him a hand, and Harry accepted it immediately, letting himself be guided through the house he was now in.
“As soon as your better.” Harry grinned, swinging their hands together. He was fairly certain this was the best near death experience he’d ever had.