|Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy
Author: Fiori75 PM
Martial Arts. Two words that mean so many things, but above all it is the drive to better ones self, physically and spiritually, it is an ever distant journey to perfection. What would happen when a small green eyed child with a destiny far greater than even he knew enters this seen yet unseen world? Adventure, magic, love? And it's all due his cousin's past as a spoiled brat.Rated: Fiction M - English - Adventure/Supernatural - Harry P. & N. Tonks - Chapters: 9 - Words: 111,638 - Reviews: 463 - Favs: 1,152 - Follows: 1,332 - Updated: 05-18-13 - Published: 12-24-10 - id: 6585932
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Harry Potter and the Oriental Philosophy
Based on the concept by Tellemicus Sundance
Chapter one: A New Beginning
"It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak"- Code of the martial artist.
It had been six months since they had started. Six months since Dudley had kicked and screamed to have his way into it. Six months since Harry had been forced to come along as 'emotional support'. And six months since both boys had fallen in love with the martial arts.
When he looked back on it, Harry really had no idea what it was that had sparked his cousin's sudden fascination with Kung Fu. Perhaps it was the new Jackie Chan movie that had come out, or maybe it was that strange cartoon show about the boy who turned into a girl. Either way, his cousin had seen it and wanted to know how to beat people up like they do in the movies.
At first, Vernon and Petunia were completely against the idea. Both of them couldn't even bear the thought of putting their precious child in harm's way. Yet Dudley had been persistent in his whining and within two days both Harry's aunt and uncle caved to their child's demands. At first Harry had feared that his cousin would come home with and immediately be able to mimic the moves he'd talked about the heroes in movies doing. Yet when he came home that first night, quite sore, lightly bruised, and upset, Harry knew that it would be a long time before his cousin ever would be able to do anything like that.
Yet imagine Harry's surprise when two days later he had to attend the classes with Dudley. It confused Harry of course, since his relatives never did anything nice for him. But the sight of a sign saying something about discounts for two students under the same payroll told him part of it. His first sparring match with Dudley told him the rest. Apparently his cousin now had free reign to attack Harry with no real consequences. Plus he always seemed to be able to beat Harry in the end. In the first five lessons Harry received seven defeats at his cousin's hand in the sparring ring.
But after the first few months of practice, with lessons every other weekday and on Saturday, Harry began to slowly improve. He was 'gifted' his teacher or 'sensei' had said; gifted at picking up the martial skills of unarmed combat with relative ease. This praise had tremendously bolstered the young seven-year-old into putting much more effort into his lessons. This caused him to slowly increase his skills at martial arts.
But it was not just Harry who grew by leaps and bounds. His cousin seemed to be surprisingly gifted at the arts as well. He was always pushing beyond his limits to match Harry's growing skill. This, in turn, pushed Harry to grow stronger and train that much harder out of class, and thus the cycle repeated. Some would call it a healthy rivalry. Others would say that they were almost obsessed with outdoing the other. However, no one could deny that their rivalry wasn't good for the boys.
Besides just their improvements skill wise, both boys had begun to slowly grow healthier. Dudley, who had always been a chubby child on the verge of being called fat, could hardly be called that now. Although he was far from being skinny and would always be a little bit burly, Dudley was now on his way to becoming one of the fittest kids in their grade. Harry, too, had become more fit, but while Dudley had slowly started to thin out, Harry had started to bulk up and put on a healthy amount of weight. But it was not just physical changes that occurred in Harry. There was another aspect that was slowly awakening. Harry had always been at the center of several odd occurrences, whether it was fast growing hair or disappearing acts. Strange things had always happened around him. With him starting martial arts, the number of strange occurrences only seemed to grow more frequent. Yet like many children he simply wrote it off as the world being filled with unanswerable questions.
However, all this only serves as a side note or back-story to the events that would change the world in ways that couldn't be imagined.
Harry and Dudley stood gazing at one another, waiting for the okay to begin the fight. Both were dressed in white training gear with a pair of silver and obsidian serpent-like dragons circling each other embroidered over the heart and a larger version on their backs. Both had a blue belt wrapped around their waists. Unlike Dudley however, Harry had a cloth headband with the same symbol on it wrapped around his head to keep his wild hair out of his eyes. Around the two boys was a circle of older men dressed in much the same manner as them with the variation being that several of them had different colored belts. One of these older men wearing a black belt stood between the two of them looking between them with both a combination of anticipation and worry.
"Okay you two, this match is going to be used to decide which of you advances in level, so do your best. But do not over do it again," he instructed as he looked between the two cousins.
"Whatever you say, sensei," Dudley answered with fake sincerity, as he took a ready combat stance.
"No promises," Harry honestly answered as he mimicked his cousin. Both stood at the ready while their sensei looked between them before sighing.
"Begin!" He finally shouted as he jumped back out of the way.
Both boys took off like rockets at each other and met in the middle. Harry threw a left straight, right as his cousin threw a right hook. It took a split second for both of them to correct themselves and avoid the other's blows. Jumping apart lightly, both looked at each other for a second before again rushing each other once again.
Harry tried another left straight, which his cousin easily blocked. But he quickly followed it up with a quick roundhouse kick to Dudley's chest. His cousin caught his leg, however. With his greater strength and weight, he was able to shift himself and toss his cousin behind him. While Harry was still recovering, Dudley charged forward to press his advantage. Harry barely had any time to recover before he was set upon by the overwhelming weight of his cousin's blows. Each blow was heavy enough that it would leave a bruise as he feebly tried to block the attacks. If not for the fact that Harry had always been the faster of the two, Harry would have been beaten down immediately.
As it was, Harry was able to get away long enough to gain his second wind before charging forward again. This time he was more cautious of his cousin and his greater physical strength. He had to dance around his cousin and tried to attack from the sides with kicks. But still the attacks were only superficial at best. His cousin would always be larger than him, and this gave him a far greater ability to ignore pain. But Harry was no slouch himself when it came to dealing with pain.
Thus it went, dancing around the other, attacking and defending and seemingly neither being able to gain the upper hand. Their match was now a battle of attrition, a battle that Dudley knew he would ultimately lose. Harry had always seemed to possess some strangely high abundance of energy, and it would be this energy that would allow his cousin to win their match. Quickly he dodged under a punch from his cousin and made for a blow to Harry's chest.
Seeing the attack, Harry twisted around the blow. The sudden twist helped him added momentum as he sent a quick kick to his Dudley's ribs. His cousin was knocked back by the force of the blow and dropped to his knees. Seeing a chance to end the fight, Harry moved in for the finishing blow.
Dudley looked up in time to see Harry moving in for the finish. He knew that he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the attack. He could block it though. But from his position, blocking it could've given Harry an even more advantageous opening. There was only one move that Dudley could make. When one can't block or dodge; attack.
Dudley only had one shot and his aim had to be good enough to catch Harry's fist before he was hit. Sure, the recoil would be painful, but he had a higher endurance than his cousin. The recoil would be enough that his cousin would back off and leave him an opening, which he could use to turn the entire fight around!
It was with no small deal of shock that Harry saw his cousin's fist lash out to intercept his own. But the initial shock quickly turned into dread. Like his cousin, Harry knew what would happen when the two fists collided and he really did not want that to happen. Not only would it hurt, but also it had the chance to turn the entire fight around.
In the six months they had trained together, Harry had learned that he really didn't like losing to his cousin. Before it had been something he had no control over. Now however it felt as though he was the master of his own destiny. If only in this instance here he could dictate how things could end. And they did not have to end with him losing. Yet it was too late for him to abort the attack, already his momentum and weight were behind it. At best this attack would cause his hand and wrist to sprain, at worst they would crack. Harry could only imagine what things could be if his hand was as hard as or harder than his cousin's.
Little did Harry know that his desire to win was having a major effect on the wild energies within him. Inside of him, his power was awakening to the mind's desire to win, as well as the thought process that could allow for Harry to win. Without consciously being aware of it, Harry's magic hardened the skin and bone of his right fist just before his fist and his cousin's came into contact. This had the nice effect of causing Dudley's fist to compress when it hit Harry's.
Dudley tried to scream in pain as the bones in his hand broke like twigs. Of course the scream came much too late to stop Harry from launching a follow up attack. Inspired by the recent turn of luck, Harry lashed out with a left hook that took Dudley completely by surprise. The fist met Dudley's temple and silenced the scream that he had just started to utter. Dudley was knocked out cold before he even had a chance to really understand what had happened to his fist.
"That's enough!" the instructor shouted just as Harry's fist hit his cousin. Of course it was too late to actually stop anything from happening, but he had to snap the boys out of it before things escalated further. It did happily have the effect of bringing Harry down from the battle high that he and his cousin readily experienced whenever they fought. It was very surprising how often they went overboard on one another, exactly like the grudge match's between two rivals.
Harry paused to catch his breath as he stood over his cousin's unconscious form. He couldn't quite understand exactly what had happened but he knew that it wasn't good. Sure, he and Dudley always went a little overboard, but it had never resulted in a knockout before. As he looked up with remorse, he caught the rage-filled eyes of the only person who could make this situation even worse.
A very puce Vernon Dursley stood at the doors of the dojo, looking directly at Harry.
"You rutty little bastard!" Vernon screamed at Harry as the small boy leapt away from his enraged uncle.
It had been three hours since Harry's uncle, Vernon, had come to pick the boys up from the class, only to witness the 'savage beating' of his firstborn child. Naturally he had grabbed Harry and lifted his son's unconscious figure from the floor before rushing to the nearest hospital. There they had found out that not only did Dudley have a minor concussion, but also the bones of his hand had fractured in seven places. Not to mention the recoil had also ripped two tendons at his elbow. In the end, Vernon had to leave his son at the hospital for observation before driving home with Harry.
The entire drive had given new meaning to the sentence 'silent as the grave.' But as soon as they had entered the house, Vernon had taken a swing at Harry. The blow had sent the young child sprawling since he caught him by the sheer surprise of it. In the very instant before he could recover, his uncle was on him, swinging huge meaty fists at the small child in a vicious rage.
"You little freak, how dare you hurt my son!" His uncle continued to yell as he lashed out at Harry.
"I didn't mean to!" Harry tried to defend himself. He was quickly being backed into a corner by his uncle's enormous stature and strength. While the man may have been obese, he did know how to throw his weight into his punches. Harry was sure that he already had a concussion to match his cousin's, not to mention several broken ribs and his right arm was hurting really badly.
"'Didn't mean too'! You didn't mean to send my boy to the hospital!" Vernon yelled.
Luckily for Harry, this momentary pause allowed the small boy to slip around his uncle and back into a more open space. Vernon saw his nephew moving into a larger space and reached for his son's cricket-bat that had been left on the sofa. He had seen Harry in several spars and knew that he was a fast and slippery little thing. The extra reach and strength of a weapon could only help in reprimanding the little bastard for hurting his child.
With a savagery that one could not have guessed he possessed, Vernon swung the cricket-bat at Harry's legs. He was trying to disable the young child from moving even further. Thankfully Harry was quick enough to dodge the swing. However, weakened as he was, he ended up stumbling as he backpedaled away from his crazed uncle. He fell onto his backside as his uncle loomed over him. Rage and perhaps a little insanity were clearly visible in his uncle's eyes as he raised his arm to swing again.
Desperately, Harry wished he could get out of the way and like before his magic reacted. However, unlike what happened in his spar with Dudley, Harry noticed the magic going to work this time. He felt it move him away from his uncle. With a soft bang, Harry was once again behind his enraged uncle. Swinging wildly, his uncle turned on him with the anger still glittering in his eye, but now it held more to it. Harry saw fear within his uncle's eye.
"You little bastard, I knew we should never have taken you in!" His uncle breathed as he glared at Harry before he once again move to attack. This time however Harry frantically concentrated on the same feelings he had had when he first vanished. He could somehow feel the strange energy spread from his stomach throughout his body in an instant.
As he teleported away from his uncle, he could only feel the comforting warmth his power brought to him as he reappeared outside in the yard to #4 Privet Drive. Still kind of dazed from the head blow, Harry looked both left and right uncomprehendingly for a moment before taking off towards London.
All the while he could hear his uncle screaming after him. "Don't you ever come back here you freak! This isn't your home any longer! You hear me; this is not your home!"
It had been a long week since Harry had been chased away from the Dursley household. A week filled with new discoveries and of ever growing dread. On the first night away from Privet Drive Harry had curled up painfully on a park-bench using newspapers in place of a blanket. As he slowly drifted off, he could almost feel that strange power within himself begin to rise up inside him and start acting on its own. In less than an hour after he'd fallen asleep, Harry's ribs had snapped back into place. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience either, his chest had felt unbearably painful when he'd woken up the next morning. But in the end it was the best thing that could have happened for him. The rapid healing took care of any potential problems he might have had in the next few months he was on his own.
That morning, he set out early, looking for someplace warm and somewhat safe to curl up at night. Food was only his second priority since he was used to going with very little.
Along the way, he started to practice achieving that strange feeling he had that had allowed him to teleport. It took him almost the entire day as he traveled through back allies to avoid attention, but eventually he managed to make some small headway into it. Though he had not managed to reproduce that form of instant movement, he had been able to faintly feel that power once again. But though he had felt his power, it was only after he grew incredibly frustrated that the power had even made itself known. Several times throughout the week afterwards he had managed to summon up the odd feeling of that power and once, five days into the his practicing, he had been able to actually teleport. Strangely, the act itself left him feeling somehow drained; as opposed to the near ease he had used it when he was escaping from his uncle. But for each time he managed to summon up his strange power, the next time he attempted it became just a little bit easier.
However, Harry's real concern was not to learn mastery over this power. It was to find shelter, preferably a place he could stay for free, but as there were very few places like that in Little Whining. So Harry had to move deeper into London proper to find shelter. Once in London, it took him another two days before he finally found a place where he could stay. Add on to that that it was completely by chance that he found it when he did.
Harry had been running desperately through the wet streets of London, though not for his life. Behind him was a tall man who could only have been a police officer. He was calling out to Harry get him to slow down, telling him that he only wanted to talk. Harry had just kept running. He feared that if the officer caught him, he would be sent to an orphanage. From the horror stories that his uncle had told, he had assumed that it would be far worse than his treatment by the Dursley's.
Ignoring the pleas from the man behind him, Harry kept running. He was actually happy for once about being so small for his age, it allowed him to dodge around the other people ahead of him as he rushed through the busy London streets. Soon, though, Harry came upon a wrought iron gate with a low brick wall to either side of it. Behind the gate was a small sea of green trees and an asphalt walkway that branched off into dirt path ways through the trees.
Quickly moving past several people, Harry made his way into the park and immediately rushed for the brush. He knew from past experience that those who were bigger than him did not like chasing him through small spaces. Thus, as he continued to weave through the bushes and past the trees, the sounds of the police officer grew fainter and fainter. Soon all Harry could here was the soft pounding of his own feet and his gasping breath.
Pausing the young boy plopped himself down next to one of the numerous trees around him. He simply sat there trying to recover from the exertion he had just put on his leg muscles. But it was as he was resting that the sounds of pursuit once again began to draw closer. The sound of brush moving and twigs snapping quickly sent Harry back to high alert as he climbed back to his feet.
It was as he was turning to run that his foot got caught in a small sinkhole. The underground void had been further weakened by the recent influx of rain. Add onto that the weight and force of a running child. The hole instantly collapsed in on itself, taking Harry with following the mounds of dirt and grass. This had the strange benefit of quickly hiding his presence from the police officer, but the sensation of falling into the dirt was not a pleasant one for Harry. He almost thought he was going to end up suffocating until the earth deposited him rather roughly onto a mound of muddy dirt and sent him rolling onto a hard stone floor.
As Harry regained his bearings, he instantly noticed how utterly dark it was wherever he had landed. Slowly he began to stand and feel his way around his new environment hoping to find some sort of power. After what felt like forever, the young child was able to find a box with a lever built into it on the cave wall. After throwing the switch Harry got his first look on where he had fallen.
It looked like a public bomb shelter, probably built during WWII. From the looks of things, Harry had to assume that it had been abandoned long ago. He could see that it was equipped with many cots built into the walls. There were also two sets of stairs on one side of the bunker, one set leading down into another level, which had a few more beds and a few lockers. The other stairs lead upwards. Harry had to assume that they would eventually be his way back into the park.
Yet at that moment Harry had no real intention to leave. The bunker in which he found himself would be perfect for him. It was spacious enough that he could practice. It had enough blankets lying around that he'd be warm at night. And best of all: no Aunt petunia or Uncle Vernon.
Now all he needed was some food.
The house seemed emptier than Dudley ever truly remembered it being. Dudley had often thought about what life would be like if his cousin was to just disappear. He'd imagined that both he and his parents would become far happier and things would become ten times better. There would be more toys for him, and twice as much food.
Yet now that Harry was actually gone, all Dudley could do was wish he would come back. Their time spent in the martial arts class together had helped strengthen a bond between them that Dudley never even knew existed. They were rivals, pure and simple. Night and day, yin and yang, and all other things one could imagine calling them. Dudley felt that the lack of Harry made things seem wrong somehow. There was no longer any balance. Yet what made it worse was that he had disappeared as the victor. Fifty-one total fights between them; twenty-five victories in Dudley's favor and twenty-six for Harry.
Harry had won. To make things worse, he'd won and now Dudley couldn't even challenge him to a rematch. All because his dad overreacted. So Harry had somehow managed to badly injure Dudley's arm and knock him out, so what! That was part of training and martial arts fighting. The fact that his dad didn't seem to understand this concept, as well as Dudley's injured pride, is what had really made him mad. His pride as a fighter demanded him to find Harry and challenge him again. And his parents expected him to be happy that Harry was just suddenly gone! Happiness was the furthest thing from what he was actually feeling. He felt enraged and hurt, and above all he felt betrayed.
He knew none of the fault truly lay with Harry; no child would willingly leave to live on the streets unless faced with no other options. Yet there was a small part of him that couldn't help but think that Harry had abandoned him, abandoned their rivalry. And that hurt him more than anything else: to think that Harry would leave him without a reassurance for another challenge.
And without that reassurance that they would meet again, almost everything else seemed to lose its meaning, even his martial arts.
After several hours of exploration, Harry started to feel comfortable in his new home. The cots were no less uncomfortable than the one he had become used to at the Dursley's. There were many blankets left over from when the shelter was still active, though a few of them were covered with mold. Really, Harry could only find two problems with his new dwellings. First was that it had a rather large infestation of rats that had since made the abandoned shelter their haven, much the same as Harry was doing now. The second and most important was that while he did now have shelter, he needed food.
As the abandoned shelter had nothing left in the way of preserved rations that the rats hadn't already gotten into, Harry was forced to seek food elsewhere. Taking the stairs up from the shelter, Harry found himself in a small concrete room with a locked iron fence blocking his path. Though it may have stopped most others from exiting or entering the now abandoned shelter, Harry's small frame allowed for easy access through the bars.
Upon entering the sunlight once more, Harry moved quickly and silently from the small hovel built into the park. Hopefully finding food would be easy, but Harry had the sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be simple. Mostly this had to do with the fact that he had no real way to pay for any food that he might find. He could always hope that someone would just take pity on him.
But Harry's thoughts were interrupted however when a quite pleasing aroma reached his nose. Following it to the source, Harry saw a large slightly chubby man standing along a concrete path tending a hotdog stand. With food now in his sights, Harry now had to face a new own inner dilemma. He could ask the man for a hotdog as he had contemplated earlier. Yet he suspected that the man would immediately turn him down. After all, as a small child, Harry would surely have relatives nearby that could pay for it.
His other option of course was he could simply take one. Truthfully it would be relatively simple for him to get one without being noticed. He'd always been good at remaining quiet and moving silently. Even if he was seen, he was fairly confident in his ability to outrun the larger man. After all he was of a heavier build and that would definitely slow him down. Plus there was the fact that he probably couldn't leave the hotdog cart untended for too long. It would be simple for Harry to escape with at least one.
'The man probably had dozens of hotdogs,' Harry tried rationalizing to himself. 'What's one missing going to hurt?'
Harry was on the very verge of just running forward to grab a hotdog, when suddenly there came a loud feminine shout. "Leave me alone!"
The voice sounded relatively young. Harry followed the source of the noise to a young girl who was maybe five or six years his senior. She was dressed boyishly with blue jeans and a yellow shirt. Her hair was a brilliant hot pink and cut short. But it was the cause of her screams that had drawn most of Harry's attention. Five teenagers had surrounded and started circling her, almost as if they were sharks. Harry watched as they taunted and jeered at her, clearly enjoying her fear. Turning back to the man tending the hotdog stand, Harry was even more horrified to see that he was walking away.
"Aren't you going to do something?" Harry called after the man incredulously.
"It isn't my problem, kid," the man said as he continued to walk away.
Harry looked back at the scene and could only glare as one of the boys grabbed the small girl by the arm and started to pull, all the while the punk was wearing a manic smile. What made the scene all the more disturbing were the tears of fear starting to fall down the young girl's face. These tears easily told all who were watching that this was not a game to her. It was as Harry looked back once more to the supposedly responsible adult that he made his choice. Swallowing his fears forcefully, he sprinted forward towards the teen that had taken hold of the girl. With as much strength as he could gather, he jumped at the older boy and delivered a hard right hook to his face.
The older teen fell to the ground hard, causing him to reflexively release his grip on the girl's arm. The other teens, as well as the girl could only look at Harry in shock for a moment as he stood over the downed teen. Harry quickly turned to the rest of the boys, his eyes hard.
"Leave her alone," he said as coldly as he could possibly manage.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid? We were only playing," one of the teens demanded angrily.
"Doesn't look like she was having fun," Harry answered as he took a quick moment to glance at the girl he had just freed. But it was as he looked away that the others pounced. Using his moment of distraction, one of the teens cuffed his jaw with a wicked left hook, sending him reeling backwards. Seeing the situation return quickly to their favor, the other boys rushed to attack Harry with as much force as they could muster.
Harry quickly saw himself loosing any and all chance of actually escaping without sustaining further harm. Quickly he rolled to his knees as one of the teens brought his foot down for a stomp. Moving as quickly as he was able, Harry kicked out with his right foot, tripping his attacker and sending him to the ground. Just as Harry was about to deliver a sharp kick to the boy's chest, he was forced to move back as one of the other four teens lashed out with a quick jab. Ducking under and into the punch, Harry quickly brought himself into the teens guard before delivering a quick jab to the older boys stomach.
Considering that Harry was at least half their age, the punch did not do much true damage. But it was not by pure luck that Harry managed to drive the wind from the teen's lungs. Since the start when Harry had attacked their leader he had been aiming for the soft spots, knowing that they would mean the difference between hurting his opponents, and hurting himself. Though it was a short-lived victory, as Harry reared back his leg to attack the teen's soft tissue, he found his other leg being pulled out from under him by the teen he knocked over earlier.
"You little bastard, what the hell are you trying to prove?" The teen asked angrily as he began to stand, all the while he put more pressure on Harry's tiny leg.
Harry hissed in pain as the pressure of the teens grip increased. Yet the young martial artist did not begin to weep, as he once would have. Instead he swallowed the scream, and muscled past the pain. The teen holding onto his right leg soon learned that he should have paid more attention and grabbed the other leg in the boy's moment of surprise and pain. With the tell tale crunch of a breaking nose Harry was once more deposited roughly onto the ground. Once more he was quick to scramble out of the way as the other teens began to attack.
This time however with pain lacing through his leg, Harry found himself moving slower than he once had. Thus he was ill equipped to dodge a devastating upper cut from one of the boys. Reeling from the blow Harry began to back away from the clearly angry teens. He could see now that they were ready to actually take him seriously. Nervously he glanced toward the place he had last seen the girl, hoping she had been smart and run off to get help, instead he saw her still form exactly were she had been before. With a silent curse he had once over heard from his uncle, Harry once more moved into the fight.
The girl could only watch helplessly as her savior was mobbed by the teens. But through it all, his eyes still remained hard and strong as he stood his ground. She wished there was something she could do to help the raven-haired child, not without getting in trouble herself. And yet she was strangely fascinated by the small child's courage. Even as the much larger boys bore down on him with enough force to harm any other child his age, the mystery boy did not falter, he did not run, and he didn't back down. She could only stand and numbly watch as he continued trying to fight back, doing his best to match the older boys blow for blow. Yet she could clearly see that they held the advantage. They were larger and had more muscle to bring down on the small child. Even with all his apparent skill, there was next to no way for him to win.
"Leave him alone, he's just a child!" she finally screamed as Harry was hit particularly viciously in the face, knocking several teeth clean out.
"This little shit has got to learn to not mess with his elders," One of them snapped in reply as he turned his attention towards her. He learned quickly how big a mistake it was to look away when a small foot suddenly made contact between his legs. As he fell to his knees, the punk was further injured when Harry brought his fist down on his temple.
"What are you still doing here, run!" Harry shouted to the girl in frustration. He knew that he could have escaped their barrage and avoided many of his current injuries. But because the girl had yet to make her own escape, he could not in good conscious leave while she remained. Who knows what could have happened if he didn't stick around!
Charging past and around the angered teens Harry made his way to the girl. Upon reaching her he placed his hands under her left arm and hauled with all his strength, pulling her from her kneeling position on the ground. She could only gasp as he glared into her eyes, his emerald orbs set in a glare.
"Just run, I'll be fine!" He shouted before turning back to the three teens.
Yet again he charged at them to buy the girl time. Harry ducked underneath a punch from one of the teens before lashing out with both fists, hitting the teen solidly in the chest. As the teen gasped and held his stomach Harry prepared to try and take another one of them out of the fight. Yet this teen seemed to be just as stubborn as he was. Before Harry could cock his arm back for a blow to the temple the teen before him lunged forward hitting Harry in the chest with his head forcing him back.
Harry was then sent reeling forward again as one of the other teens punched him savagely in the back. Rolling forward Harry was able to come to his knees just in time to jump back as the third teen sent a hook towards his face. Glaring at the older boy Harry moved forward yet again. He dodged under another punch and tried to deliver one of his own, but before his blow could connect the teen backed away from him. Moving quickly after the dodge, the teen then grabbed Harry's still extended arm and began to squeeze. Harry seeing this did the first thing that came to mind. He leaned forward and bit into the teen's hand. Despite loosing one of his canines and a few molars, Harry still had enough of his teeth for the bite to be particularly painful. Screaming the teen released his arm and kicked at Harry, causing him to do even more damage to the skin of his opponent.
"What is this, you think you're some kind of hero, kid?" one of the teens asked angrily as he landed another a blow on Harry.
Harry ignored the question and once more cast his eyes at the girl, who still she had not run. He dodged past one blow, only to be hit by another, knocking slightly off balance for a second. He wondered briefly what it would take to finally get her to run. As quickly as he could manage, he returned to his feet and attempted yet another attack. But by now however the teens had learned that it didn't pay to underestimate him. His blows could be quite painful if they landed. Instead they started dancing around him, using his small arms and size to their own advantage. They didn't let him close enough to hit back, but never far away enough for him to run. For what seemed like forever, Harry tried his very hardest to fend them off, hoping the pink haired girl would just run away. But she remained where she stood, paralyzed at the sight of the teens attacking him.
Finally however one of them landed a blow strong enough to push the wind from his lungs, causing him to keel over onto the ground clutching his chest. The attack was quickly followed by someone's boot hitting him quite painfully in the ribs. Helplessly, the young martial artist was sent sprawling onto the ground. As he looked with half lidded eyes as his attackers bore down upon his immobile form. Once again he felt his inner power react to his frantic needs; he suddenly disappeared from sight only to reappear next to the older girl.
"Oh god," the girl whispered, knowing full well the ramifications of the boy's actions, accidental or otherwise.
"What the fuck?" one of the thugs gasped as Harry slumped down next to the girl.
"Did he just teleport or something?" another asked in shock.
"What the hell is he?" asked another.
"What should we do, should we call 999, tell them we saw a mutant or whatever the hell this kid is?" another asked.
When the boy who said that began to look towards a pair of phone booths, the girl decided then and there to risk expulsion for the greater good. After all things would be far more complicated if the ministry had to fix the memories of the police as well as the three still conscious teens. With all the resolve she could muster she pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the teen heading for the booth.
"Don't go any closer to that phone!" She shouted with as much courage as her quivering voice could manage.
"What the, is that a stick?" One of the teens asked in confusion be fore almost laughing out right at the absurdity of it, his laughter was quickly stifled when she pointed the stick at him before incanting.
"Expelliarmus!" She yelled as she poured as much power into the spell as she could possibly manage.
She smiled weakly as the red bolt connected with the teen's chest, sending him flying backwards from the force of it. She was also idly surprised when a small folded up knife landed by her feet, though it was quickly hidden. With as much bravado as she could muster she pointed her wand at the teen closest to the phone booths before speaking.
"You back away before I do you the same as I did him." Motioning toward the newest teen lying on the ground. Her small smile could only widen as the teen, wide-eyed and fearful, began to tremble and back away from the phones. Now it was only a matter of time before the ministry showed up. This far in to the city and with magic being used as it was, she knew they wouldn't send a measly owl to reprimand her, they would show up personally to investigate. However she found her growing hope and calm quickly snuffed out as the teen she had hexed earlier began to groan and rise.
"The fucking hell was that? What the hell are you two freaks?" He growled as he finally rose to her feet.
""You okay man?" One of the others asked him as he stood panting angrily.
"Peachy! John go phone 999, me and Tony will handle this bitch!" He barked.
"You shall do no such thing," came a calm, cold voice from the distance. Out from the shadows of the alley stepped a man. He was a tall man dressed in black slacks and a blue button-down cotton shirt. His hair was a long and lustrous black, done up in a pony-tail to keep it out of his face. His eyes were a chestnut brown, yet they held a powerful intensity to them that made the girl almost feel as though he wasn't looking at you but at your soul. He had a muscular frame, but it was not overtly muscular. He had enough definition for it to be noticeable, but not enough to be considered a body builder. By his skin tone and facial features, the three conscious teens and the girl all could tell that he was of Asian descent.
"Oh yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" one of the teens demanded arrogantly.
"First, I shall merely warn you. If however you persist on the course of action you are now taking, I shall be forced to take action against you," the man stated calmly.
"You looking to get beat down too?" The same teen inquired angrily.
"Dave, I think we better listen to him," one of his companions whispered.
"Yeah right, there are three of us, and only one of him. We can handle th-" the teen never got a chance to finish his boast. Later he would learn that he had been taken down quickly by a sharp chop to the back of his neck. His friends, of course, fared no better. As soon as he fell, they too took a single hit each. They were already falling to the ground as they finally comprehended that the strange Asian man had moved, in an instant, from his position into their very midst.
"Such a shame," the strange man said as he finished the last of them off.
Finally he looked over at the reason why he had waited so long to interfere in the fight. In truth, he had planned to enter the fray as soon as he saw that the teens' actions were less than honorable. But then the small child before him stepped forward. At first he had simply planned to save both children, but then the small child had shown he possessed the spirit of a true martial artist. He had fought to defend the girl. For the first time in a very long time, he felt the desire to take a disciple.
"St-stay back," came the trembling voice of the girl. Turning slightly, the man saw that she had once again mustered her courage and was now pointing her wand at him much like a gun.
"My, my, you as well? What have I done to offend you?" the man wondered aloud to himself as he smiled lightly.
"I know who you are, so just stay away from me!" she ordered as she began to back away, intending to protect the small child who had tried to protect her. If she was lucky the Ministry would be here any second, and she and the boy would be safe from the man before her.
"So, tell me child, if you know who I am, what do you think you could possibly do?" Suddenly the man's voice came from behind her. Startled she turned and fired a blue light from her stick. She could only gasp as it seemingly passed right through him.
"Stay away from him!" she screamed, as he appeared unharmed next to the downed form of the boy.
"Child, I have no desire to hurt you or this young boy, though he has piqued my interest. It is rare to see one of our kind trained in the art." He said calmly as he hefted the boy over his shoulder.
"You leave him alone!" she repeated, shouting as yet another blue bolt of energy was thrown at him. This time however it did not pass through him. Somehow he defied what she knew to be possible and blocked the spell with his bare arm. The spell was sent flying into the trees as he stood before her, unharmed and still holding her tiny savior.
"As I already said, I mean neither you nor this child harm. Has my reputation been so tainted that you would attack a protector?" he asked calmly.
"You ain't fooling me! Momma told me all about you. You're one of the worst Undesirables in the country," she said shakily as she began to back away in fear as it truly began to dawn on her how foolish it was to act against this man. Maybe the hat had been wrong when it put her in the house of the badger; right now she was acting far more lion-ish than anything else.
"They still persist on labeling me as such?" he asked before shaking his head sadly. "Though it is far from my normal course of actions, I shall take my leave of you. The Ministry shall be here soon, and you are obviously in no further danger. I shall take my leave of you now." He said before turning to leave.
"You put him down!" she shouted one last time.
Desperately, she released a bolt of magic at him once more. This time however he did not merely just block her attack, he sent it flying back at her. Catching the meager bolt of magic in his free left hand, he twirled before releasing the bolt, right back at her. She was struck by her own spell, slightly enhanced by the man's own magical power, and was summarily disarmed as it sent her crashing to the ground. She could only watch helplessly as he turned and faded from sight. No crack sounded as he faded from sight, just his image turning fuzzy before disappearing completely.
As she lay on the ground helplessly, she could only tear up slightly as her own lack of strength sank in. That day she swore that she would get stronger. That way, she would never need to be saved again. That day set her on her future path of a law keeper for the British ministry of magic. And as the Aurors finally appeared in the area, wands drawn, she could feel more tears start falling from her eyes when they began to question her on what been happening.
"What the bloody hell happened here?" one particularly gnarled looking man asked angrily as a prosthetic eye swiveled madly in its socket."
"Li Chang," she managed to gasp out.
"Bloody hell, girl, you're lucky to be alive. What happened?"
And so she told them of the small child who had tried to save her, how he moved with a grace she thought impossible, and how she thought that young martial artist somehow stood as a very embodiment of the house of the lion. All the while they could only pray he would be safe, none of them knew just what the evil villain Chang had in store for the poor kid, or how the same kid would one day shape their future.
Fiori: And here it is folks a brand new story in the world of Harry Potter, I would like to personally thank Tellemicus Sundance for coming up with this concept and allowing me the honor of actually turning it into a full blow story. Over all I think that this story will go quite well and be very exciting.
Now on to the normal bit were I tell you all to review else i hurt you or one of the cast members in some horrible way, but really it's Christmas time, so have a happy one folks.
Cedric: Does that mean you'll untie me?
Fiori: Shut up before I tell the Twilight fan-girls you're here, I'm doing you a favor by keeping you safe.
Cedric: I'll be good.
Fiori: Thank you, as i said before, have a merry Christmas, a happy Hanuka, Happy Ramadan, Quanza, Yuletide, and all the other random holidays that are celebrated around this time of year.
Review or Santa gives you coal.