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Harry hissed sharply, biting the inside of his mouth and clutching at his bleeding side. It was all he could do to stop himself from crying out. He stumbled drearily through the back alleys of Little Whining, trying to get away.
See, Dudley and his gang of miscreants had decided they wanted to play “Harry Hunting”. Fun.
A sudden decision, Harry sped up. He rounded a corner and ducked into the nearby graveyard. He hid behind a large tombstone, coming face to face with an almost deathly pale man with dyed hair and a large, tattered coat.
And a shovel.
‘Uh- hi?’ okay, let it be known that social interaction was not one of Harry’s strong-suits. The Dursleys made sure of that, spreading rumours and vile comments. He was a social pariah wherever he went.
Foul relatives aside, what was one supposed to say when coming face to face with a man with a shovel in a graveyard when hiding from your disgusting cousin and his foul friends?
Okay, but the man’s eyes would likely be a very pretty colour if it weren’t for the abysmal lighting. (Were they blue?)
‘What’re you doing, kid?’ the man asked. His voice was deep (holy shit hot-), like he’d hit puberty twice.
‘Hiding from my cousin, you?’ it was obvious what he was doing. He had a shovel, a shady coat, and he was in a graveyard. It should have been so obvious it was practically screaming at him, with obnoxious and pulsating neon lettering floating above the man’s head.
“I am digging up graves”
‘My job?’
‘That sounds like a question.’ Harry was sent an incredulous look, and he grinned sheepishly. He deigned himself to stay here for the night, it was surprisingly comfortable. He leaned back against the old grave marker more, tilting his head back to watch the sky.
‘Why are you running from your cousin?’ the odd man with the pretty eyes questioned, going back to digging up the grave he was at.
‘Because he’s a right foul git.’ Harry muttered grumpily. ‘Size of a whale, IQ in the negatives. Loves chasing me around with his friends, though, and beating me black and blue when they catch me. Breaks Aunt petunia’s best China and blames it on me, as well as makes a mess when I’m cleaning.’
The man hummed, hefting up a casket and opening it. He pulled out an odd-looking syringe with a needle that made up half its size.
‘‘t’s a nice night.’ Shit, he was starting to slur. He wouldn’t be able to make it anywhere if he tried right now. Not while he was still actively bleeding out pretty much. The stars and moon spun in the sky, because he was clearly dizzy as hell. He screwed his eyes shut for a second, willing the world to stop rotating so clearly.
‘D’you have a needle or some shit to stop bleeding?’
The man looked up from what he was doing, from extracting some glowing light blue liquid from up the nose of the corpse. ‘No, why?’
Harry growled under his breath. ‘shit.’ He pressed his hands firmer against the still weeping wound on his side, hoping that pressure would, for now, stem the flow of his life-liquid.
The man hurried to finish what he was doing, filling the little tube attached to the needle and putting it away. He tossed the body back into its casket and filled it up again, ducking down behind a gravestone as a guard passed.
Once they were in the clear, the man came out from his hiding place again, creeping towards Harry. ‘Let me have a look, kid.’
Harry stiffened for a second, and then pulled his shirt up so the man could see his newest injury. Harry watched as the man pressed gingerly against the skin, figuratively testing the waters. Harry flinched, a strained hiss of pain escaping his clenched teeth.
‘Fuck!’ He growled, muscles locking up as he strained to not jerk out of the touch.
‘Kid, this’ll need stitches.’ The man deduced, retracting his hands. Harry let his shirt fall back down because it was fucking cold.
Harry bared his teeth, jaw clenched. ‘Aw, nah. I couldn’t tell.’ He ground out sarcastically. The (pretty man, smash me-) man, raised an eyebrow, chuckling.
He packed up the rest of his stuff and peeked around- the guard was on the other side of the graveyard, they had a free shot to escape. ‘Let’s go kid, we’ll get you somewhere I can fix up that lovely cut you have.’
Harry stood, clutching his side tightly and limped hurriedly behind his new acquaintance, following him out of the graveyard.