Disclaimer: I own nothing

Rated: T


It was a pretty bad day.

'Nobody is telling me anything,' Harry Potter thought to himself with pure annoyance, 'Nothing.' He even had to resort to scrounging around in rubbish cans for Muggle newspapers for any information on Voldemort since he was receiving no owls from Ron or Hermione.

Fortunately and unfortunately, there was no news of any attacks or none big enough that even the Muggles noticed.

Yet at least.

So for now, he gave up and, wanting to get away from the Dursleys for the moment, he decided to wander around the neighbourhood, though it probably wasn't the best idea since he knew that Dudley was out and about with his little gang of bullies and decided it was time for some 'Harry Hunting'.

Of course, he could deal with all of that and the day would have only been 'bad', but with his damned luck, 'bad' turned to 'horrible' very quickly.

Dementors.

Dementors – he had no idea how or why – had somehow managed to escape from Azkaban and made their way to Little Whinging, only to attack him and Dudley when the latter had him cornered alone.

The attack was such a surprise that Harry barely had any time to counterattack as he drew his wand from his pocket, though it was already too late when the cold and dark presence seemed to absolutely suffocate him.

"Expecto–" Harry could see black spots beginning to dot the sides of his vision, "Expecto..." He cursed mentally before he blacked out, taking one last look at his cousin and the Dementor hovering over his large still body.

He may dislike Dudley a lot, but even he did not deserve the cruel fate of the Dementor's Kiss.

Nobody did.

~00~

"Wha–?"

Harry sluggishly opened his eyes, feeling his body weighed down by the deep depression the Dementors had induced in him. He stared blankly up at the sky for a few moments, vaguely noting that it was growing dark before the full situation finally began to sink in.

Despite his body's protest, he quickly rose up in a sitting position with his hand blindly groping around for his wand, 'How am I still...?' He questioned with disbelief that he was still in control of himself – that the Dementors had not stolen his soul from him when they had the clear chance to do so, 'Dudley!'

His green eyes snapped around to locate his cousin and sighed in relief when he noticed the large boy was lying down not too far from his own position. He was muttering and moaning things under his breath and didn't appear very well, but Harry was relieved to see that he still somehow possessed his own soul.

"You shouldn't move yet."

A soft voice stated from his left and Harry immediately pointed his wand towards the source, "Who are you?" He asked coldly, eyeing the small person sitting rather close to him.

He noticed that the stranger was quite androgynous and he weirdly could not tell the person's gender by first glance due to the short haircut and the unisex clothing (s)he was wearing.

"I found you and him passed out," The stranger ignored his question as (s)he gestured over to Dudley, "Can I ask you what happened?" An almost knowing smile appeared on the person's pretty face and Harry was sure the stranger knew more than (s)he was letting on and he wondered one thing to himself before tightening his hand on his wand.

Was this stranger an enemy?