The young boy shivered as he hid in the bushes in the backyard. He would be found, eventually, and he knew that. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to care as he sat, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, trembling, taking in deep gulps of air.
Yes, he would be found, but a respite was a respite, and he would take what he could get.
His head jerked to the right as the leaves rustled, wide, scared green eyes taking in a small, black feathered form. He sighed in relief. Just a raven.
The bird cocked its head, one red eye trained on the young child. The boy was a bit confused by this. Birds didn't have red eyes! It was definitely weird. Abnormal.
But his uncle kept saying that he was weird too, so it couldn't be that bad. He smiled encouragingly at the bird as it hopped closer to the boy.
Then, it stilled, before abruptly bursting into the air, just as the bushes were pushed aside by a group of chubby boys.
“Found you Freak!”, The leader of the group, the boy’s cousin, yelled as they dragged him out, fists and kicks raining down on the no longer hidden child’s form.
From that day on, Harry could swear he saw man, many more ravens. They sat, still and silent, at the corner of the street, on the trees in the school playground, outside his class, in his backyard, on his aunts roses, on the wall of number 4, Privet Drive.
Everywhere he looked, Harry saw at least one. All sitting, all watching him through beady red eyes.
Any other person would have been deeply disturbed by this. Harry wasnt any other person.
The ravens were the closest thing he had to friends. They were like him. Different.
When he was alone, they would come close, nestling into his arms, perching on his shoulder, eating the scraps he fed them. He would whisper to them, and he always felt like they listened.
One day, as he stepped out into the school playground, behind the rest of his class, a commotion drew his attention. Dudley stood in the middle of the yard, something clutched in his meaty fingers as the rest of the class clustered around him.
Making his way to the front of the crowd, Harry finally saw what Dudley held.
And it made his blood run cold.
In the ten year old’s chubby fingers struggled a raven, wings scrunched awkwardly against its body as it tried to escape the boy’s grip.
And not just any raven. Blood red eyes met Harry’s emerald irises, and Harry saw fear.
He didn't know what came over him then.
His scrawny form moved on its own as he rushed forward and punched his fat cousin in the face.
Normally, that wouldn't have done much. But Dudley was off balance, holding the bird aloft and boasting. He hadn't expected the sudden attack.
The fat boy jerked backwards, his grip loosening, the raven freeing itself and taking to the sky. Harry watched it go, a glimmer in his eye.
Until a hard shove sent him crashing to the floor. As he snatched up his fallen glasses, he turned to see his livid cousin and the rest of his bully gang looming over him, their expression promising pain.
Harry’s hands came up, protecting his face from the barrage of fists and legs that was to come. The attack never came.
Instead, the flapping of wings,the familiar croaking of his ravens, and the screams of the other children. He cautiously lowered his hands, green eyes widening at the sight that met them.
A swirling mass of ravens, all with malevolent red eyes, attacked Dudley and his gang, pecking at their flesh and clawing at their clothes as the boys frantically tried to fend them off.
As the teachers rushed to disperse the birds, Harry could have sworn they all looked straight at him. And an unreadable, inexplicable smile rose to his lips.
Silence loomed over the graveyard of Little Hangleton, as Harry silently crouched behind a tombstone, ears straining for any sound of the resurrected Dark lord that stalked the graveyard somewhere behind him.
“Oh Harry! Will you be the coward? Will you not face me head on?” , Voldemort’s voice rang out, high and cold, echoing over the silent cemetery.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, when something caught his eye.
A raven, perched on the tombstone next to him.
A raven, with eyes of malevolent blood.
He smiled, the same inexplicable smile that had graced his face all those years ago, the same inexplicable smile that graced his face every time he saw his ravens.
“Oh Raven”, his voice was loud in the eerie silence, as he spoke, the words coming unbidden to his lips, causing the Dark lord to whip around at the sound, “Won't you sing me a happy song?”
As Voldemort raised his wand, the tip glowing, a sound began to grow.
The sound of flapping wings and rustling feathers.
All eyes raised to the sky as a cloud of ravens descended, swirling around a spot on the dirt near where the green eyed, raven haired teen crouched.
They dispersed, settling on nearby tombstones and grave markers, perching on the dead trees and the iron wrought fence of the graveyard, red eyes watching both the teen and the man they had appeared from amidst the storm of feathers.
The man was moderately tall, dressed in a dark grey tunic and breeches. The dark grey cloak he wore, edged with gold, was held in place at his neck with a golden breastpiece. Precisely trimmed white hair, matched by a similarly trimmed white goatee, framed the face of the older man.
The ravens settled as the man’s glowing eyes met Harry’s.
And despite never having met, or even heard of the man before, Harry knew the raven man’s name.
“Nevermore”
“Harry Potter”, The man, Nevermore, bowed to the teen, heedless of the shocked gazes of the Dark Lord and his followers, before he straightened, a malevolent smirk etched across his features, “My Lady would like to meet with you.”