Chapter Text
1998
Harry had been lost after the war. Between grieving the last of his family, helping Andy with baby Teddy, and trying to hide from interviews and reporters wanting to know what happened. He was just so very tired and ready to stop existing.
He walked to his death, but his death hadn't stuck. Sure, he had a choice, but if it meant an end to Voldemort, there hadn't been a choice in the matter. Harry's life had been intertwined with Voldemort's since the day he was born, if someone was going to end the insane wizard, it was going to be Harry. He wouldn't want anyone else to have that burden but himself.
But now he was alive again, and had no idea what he wanted to do with himself. He thought perhaps being an Auror would be him after learning it was what James Potter and Sirius had done, but he was so very tired of running and fighting the bad guys. The idea of that connection felt tainted, in a way, which told Harry the job wasn't for him.
"Why don't you travel?" Andy had asked him once when Harry finally broke down and told Andy his feelings, the older woman being a godsend to him as Molly was torn between her own grief and wanting her family close, including Harry.
But she suffocated him in ways he never expected and nor did he want anymore. His mother has been long dead, and he's never really had that mother's love people always talked about, and now any type of it felt like too much.
"But Teddy," Harry had tried to argue with Andy, the flimsy excuse was just that, flimsy.
"Will be fine with me. You need to be able to look after yourself first before others, including children. When you're ready, we'll be here, Harry. Just...make sure to write and visit," Andy told Harry softly, but the look in her eyes told Harry she will always fight him on this, fight him on his own mental wellness.
So, Harry nodded, stopped briefly by Hermione and Ron who seemed to agree with Andy, and then packed a backpack that was charmed to the ceiling, put a wardrobe in it, potions kit Andy prepared for him, and the hollows which had made their way back to him. Making sure his Holly was in its holster, Harry had been ready to find a new adventure.
That was when Fawkes came settling on Harry's shoulder, just like Hedwig used to before her death, combing through Harry's mess of hair with a slight coo that made Harry relax.
"Hey, boy, you coming with me?" Harry asked quietly as Andy gave him a wobbly smile with Teddy sleeping in her arms.
Fawkes gave another coo, bending over so Harry's fingers could carefully pet the plumage with the feathers and not against. "Alright, why don't you pick out destination?"
Fawkes trilled and Harry blinked before for a moment, his eyesight was filled with a bright flame before it was gone. They were in a new spot, beside a road that had no clear destination. Blinking for a moment as he took in his surroundings, Harry carefully knelt and let Fawkes hop onto the ground as Harry rummaged through his backpack.
Finding the mini-motorcycle that he had rebuilt without the side-car, Harry resized his godfather's bike and then put the backpack back on after grabbing a helmet. Fawkes trilled with excitement as he settled on the handlebars, meaning he was going to ride with him.
"You sure you don't want to fly?" Harry asked the Phoenix even as he put the helmet on and swung his leg onto the bike. Fawkes gave a trill and seemed to eagerly settle onto the bike, his wings tight against his body even as it tilted forward to brace against the wind that was sure to come.
With a small shrug, Harry started the bike, a thrill going through him making him feel alive once more. He didn't know what was expected to come, and that filled him with excitement.
Eventually they found a small town, population of maybe 500, and Fawkes went back into the air. Harry took the time to find a diner to get some food, ignoring the looks was easy as he had them constantly at Hogwarts and the Wizardry Community, but it was still a weird experience as he greeted the waitress and got an order of eggs and bacon.
He found out he was in Utah and got a few looks when he mention just traveling, especially given his current age of 17 and his British accent. There were a couple of high school girls that tried to flirt with him, but eventually were shooed away by the waitress with his food.
Harry just felt awkward during his entire breakfast stay even when the Sheriff, who apparently always came to their only dinner for food, told him he could stay if he wanted to rest.
He just politely declined and left the town as soon as possible, mentally telling himself to never do that to himself again as it seemed certain small towns rarely get guests.
With the town behind him and the open road in front of him, Harry raced Fawkes toward the new place that was suppose to be ahead of them.
He found a small gas station and, upon grabbing a map and paying it with a Gringotts card (which he had gotten before planning this trip after expensively paying for the damage to Gringotts and apologizing profusely to them) he had the attendant help him figure out where he was.
Thanking the attendant with a decent tip in the jar, he decided to head toward Salt Lake City and experience the sight and sounds with Fawkes. Crafting a small band that would disguise Fawkes as some type of exotic bird, Harry and him were off for their newest experiences.
Salt Lake City had too many people in it, even the hiking trails he was going to go on seemed to have too many people for his likings. The small bed and breakfast he had been staying at talking about Coalville, a place North East that contained great hiking trails and whose name was created because of the abundance of coal mines located throughout the regions. The owner of the bed and breakfast was originally from there but moved closer to Salt Lake when they attended collage but dropped out.
Harry didn't really care about her history, in truth, but it did sound like an interesting place with some hiking trails he and Fawkes could go and explore. Perhaps even camp outdoors if needed given he does have a magical tent with him.
He didn't want to use it too often given his history with needing to use a tent and being on the run with Voldemort was still quite fresh on his mind, but he would do it if it meant enjoying the cool breeze and the starry night sky of America.
So, Harry found a bed and breakfast, stocked up on some food from the grocery store to take with him, mostly water bottles and granola bars, his motorcycle shrunken and put into his backpack again, he then set off with Fawkes onto a camping/hiking trail that would lead toward, but not near, one of the abandoned coal mines.
Harry felt free as he walked along the trails, Fawkes trilling above him and making excited little coos as he slowly glided around, looking like a majestic eagle given his plumage and shape of his body. They traveled for a few hours, resting when needed and making sure to stay hydrated. As the sun slowly lowered over the horizon, Harry sent Fawkes to find a safe spot to pitch a tent.
They found it in a clearing in the woods, so Harry got the tent set up with barely a thought of magic before flicking his wand into his hand and starting the wards to set around the place. After all, he might not be Moody's level of paranoid, but he wasn't going to leave himself defenseless with no one else around to help.
He remembered the brief missing posters around town of a couple of hikers that got lost and didn't make it back before nightfall, the difference between them and Harry, though, was that Harry had magic and Fawkes and wouldn't get lost like they had.
Settling on the cot in the tent, as a bed just felt too weird on his body for now, Harry let Fawkes on a perch that used to be Hedwig's. Staring at the ceiling of the tent, he wondered if this was healing him or not, being away from magic, from his friends, from England.
Harry didn't want to admit it, but he knew that there was a stone missing from his shoulder that had been present for years, a heavy weight that always pressed him down, made it hard to get up and keep going.
It was easier to breath, nowadays, but he still felt so lost like those campers.
With a deep breath, Harry forced his muscles to relax and felt himself slip into slumber.
…
It felt like no time had passed when he woke up to his alarms ringing around his head, something meant him harm and was encircling the tent. Fawkes was awake and clicking in agitation, his beak making sharp chittering noises as he kept puffing his wings up, trying to make himself bigger and deadlier. Harry knew the Phoenix's could burn others with just a touch, so the threat was very valid.
"Help!" A younger girls voice sounded outside his tent, helpless and terrified.
He didn't remember moving, but Harry threw his jacket and shoes on and was out of the tent in seconds. His Holly still in its holster, but Death's Wand had appeared in his hands without him even trying to call it.
His magic was racing inside of him, trying to pinpoint the little girl that had screamed even as he stepped over his ward line and tried to find the person through the dark night of the forest.
With a prickling sensation to his right, Harry ducked and watched something tall and lanky sail over him. A snarl ran through the air as the figure landed with a crouch and turned toward him.
Harry froze for a moment as his mind tried to figure out what the hell it was seeing. Its face was winkled and sagging like any extra fat it had on its face was gone, and the skin didn't know how to fix it, and its teeth rotten and seemed to be falling out, replaced by these razor sharp and edged teeth that were in just as bad shape as the human teeth. Its body was thin, almost supernaturally, as if the thing had never eaten in its entire life, there looked to be some type of old pants that were frayed around the edges from old age, but still in considerable shape considering it was still clinging to the things waist like a lifeline, some type of belt holding it up.
Fawkes let out a screech as he landed on Harry's shoulders and puffed up, screaming at the magical creature in front of him, his fire dancing around Fawkes and a little bit around Harry.
The creature let out a snarl before leaping toward one of the trees, it's hands and feet turned razor claws gripping the trees like some type of dangerous monkey. But for the life of him, Harry couldn't figure out what type of dangerous creature it was that meant to kill him.
Plus, there was the little girl around to consider.
Harry gripped his wand tighter as the figure disappeared into the distance slightly. "Fawkes?" Harry whispered to his companion as his magic sent out in waves, looking and trying to pinpoint the thing in the forest.
But whatever it was, was fast and Harry's magic couldn't find it.
Fawkes' anger turned from the creature to whip toward Harry with a screech that could only be a reprimand. "There was a girl in danger!" Harry argued with the Phoenix.
Fawkes screamed at him again, his wing coming up to smack the back of Harry's head, before the Phoenix turned away with his beak turned up into the air.
Blinking because this was all new behavior, Harry took a moment to consider what just happened and something clicked in his mind as he closed his eyes. "There was no girl...was there?" Harry questioned the Phoenix, his tone dejected as he realized he just ran into danger again without thinking.
Fawkes clicked his beak, something almost apologizing as the Phoenix bent down and nuzzled Harry's cheek.
"So...supernatural speed, agility, and can mimic voices. I know this creature, but for the life of me I can't remember," Harry muttered as he rubbed his chin feeling the few bits of hair trying to grow back from his shave earlier in the day.
"Wish Hermione was here...Or maybe not," Harry muttered to himself given he was more in-tune with his magic then Hermione which was the only reason he hadn't been captured, killed, or hurt from the creature when it launched itself at Harry.
Harry itched to leave and just go back to civilization, away from magic and danger which seemed to surround his life. But if the thing tried to attack him, what about other campers or hikers?
His mind flashed back to the missing hikers, and Harry felt his heart and magic hardened. He wasn't the first to be attacked, he probably wouldn't be the last if this thing stayed alive.
Turning with determination, Harry headed back to the tent to head to the magical bookcase which was linked to both the Potter and Black libraries. With magical intent as he placed his hand on the side of the bookcase, Harry let his magic guide and describe exactly what he remembered about the creature.
His ears popped, a side-effect of the magic, and Harry looked at the bookcase with a row of books, all some type of Magical Creatures and even a few of How to Kill Them among them.
There was a book on the shelf that Harry recognized though. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them By Newt Scamander.
Harry read that book for Hagrid. Maybe that was where he knew the creature.
Grabbing it, Harry started flipping through them, trying to find a pencil drawing similar-looking to the creature he just encountered.
Fawkes was still perched on his shoulder as Harry sat on the cot, book in lap. It took him flipping till he nearly reached the back of the book when he found it.
Wendigo.
A dangerous creature that even I must admit, must always be put down. There is no reasoning with it, it is a killing machine that has existed through the centuries. Immortal because of its immoral and life-altering act of eating human flesh. Unlike with magicals, these creatures were created when muggles had eaten human flesh for survival when no other option was available. As a consequence, magic had cursed them, their skin started to fall apart and they were constantly hungry only for human flesh, nothing else can satisfy the creature, even alternatives through potions. Through my research, I have determined that there are many Wendigos around the world, but many remain dormant in caves or abandoned mines through long winters or cold nights. Often created from coal expeditions that resulted in near death and almost starvation.
There are only two ways to kill a Wendigo: Fire and Magical Overload.
Fire is the only way muggle man can kill a Wendigo given their lack of magic. Given the elements that created and sustain the Wendigo are Earth and Water. Water because of its representation of time and moving toward the end, which has made the Wendigo immortal through the curse of magic and twisting this element, and Earth because the Wendigo, at the base of their personalities, are strategic hunters. Often mimicking that of something their prey would be drawn to, to lure them out of their safety and make them alone so they can pick them off without alerting to anyone else with the prey. Fire is the opposite of Water, therefore, ending the wendigo's immortality instead of sustaining it.
Magical Overload, in alternative, is the opposite of Earth given its ties of Air. The only way to achieve Magical Overload is by a Magical being in emotional distraught and filling the space around them with too much magic. This is not recommended given magical exhaustion is often a side-effect and can lead to death of the Magical even with the Wendigo dead. If the magical has any injuries, this can even be more life-threatening as Magical Overload always ends in the magical passing out for days. With no one to make sure they remain hydrated and feed, starvation or dehydration can follow a Magical Overload, killing the magical instead of their injuries.
Harry snapped the book closed. He remembered reading the passage for the first time, breezing through it given it was not actually taught in class, it had terrified him reading about how efficient killing machines Wendigos were.
Part of Harry was happy that Voldemort had never found a way to locate and control Wendigos. If he had...
Harry shuddered at the thought even as he put the book back and let the magic disconnect from the bookcase. A small pop in his ears meaning the books were returned to their original location. Turning to Fawkes, a pure fire magical creature, Harry knew exactly why the Wendigo left them alone given all the puffing Fawkes had done included fire.
"Think we can take out a Wendigo?" Harry asked Fawkes with a small smirk.
Fawkes gave a chirp-like groan but nodded all the same.
Harry stepped outside, the buzzing and chirps of bugs returning to his ears as he realized the Wendigo had caused all bugs to go silent at its presences. Taking down his tent and wards were easy. He left Fawkes and his magic as lookout as he put the tent back into his backpack. Shouldering the bag and with his wand in hand, Harry let Fawkes and his magic slowly start to track where the Wendigo went after disappearing on them.
Even with his life in danger, Harry felt a certain calm he never had in Britain.
This was his choice, and he wasn't regretting it. There was no expectations on him for doing this. He can leave at any time even if his morals would hate him for it.
And that meant everything.
Watching what used to be a human burn was...weird.
All it took was a simple Incendio and the Wendigo had burst into flames, spreading through its entire body and causing the Wendigo to let out a inhuman screech as it died.
But now the body was dead, and the flames were just eating the Wendigo's flesh and turning it into a blackened char of a mess. Harry was letting it go, keeping an eye on it to make sure it didn't reach out for the forest nearby given the dry and stale air of the abandoned coal mine that Wendigo had used as its home.
The bodies of the missing campers, what was left of them, were to the side. Harry promised himself to bury them once he was done, making a small gravestone with their list of names given he remembered who was missing. He didn't want them to turn into violent spirits due to their death, so he hoped this put them at peace given he could never explain to the coppers of the area how he stumbled upon the dead bodies.
He might not have been in the area around the time, but he knew he might be considered suspicious given his age, accent, and the fact he came here only for the hiking trails with only a normal looking backpack on him.
As the flames extinguished, Harry waved his hand over the ground of the cave until it was 6 feet deep for each of the missing campers and directed his magic to carefully carry the campers to their burial ground. Carefully, and with respect, he covered the mangled bitten bones and few body parts with dirt. Finding a sizable stone to transfigure, Harry let his magic carve their names and the date of their death, using the current date, and place it at the top of the burial ground. Using magic to hold the stone in place.
Harry let his hand rest on the stone, wishing for a moment it didn't have to be like this, but preyed that they have a safe journey to the afterlife of their choosing. His magic wove through the air, and Harry felt settled with the feeling they all made it safely, none turning into violent spirits stuck in this plane.
He couldn't describe how he knew it, so he pushed the feeling to the side and ignored it like so many things in the past. His scar pain being the main one when he was 11.
Feeling somehow more himself even with the brief aspect of danger in his life, Harry let Fawkes guide him toward the road, unshrunk his motorcycle and helmet, and set back off onto the road.
He had no destination in mind, no event that pressured him into acting one way or another. No society watching his every move, holding him over a burning pyre in one second but then a throne the next.
Harry finally felt free.