Harry wasn't entirely sure why he was going on this trip with the Dursley's.

He had at first entertained the thought that maybe they were taking him to America with them because he was certain to die without them, but then decided that wasn't their style. He then decided it was to keep up appearance with the outside world. After all, the beatings had stopped a month before the announcement, Vernon being 'merciful' and letting him heal. He would always have the scars, but the bruises would be gone by then. Harry could tell it irked him though, and that was why the verbal abuse had gotten three times worse than before.

Then, the night after Vernon announced the trip to both boys, this was proven to be right when he heard from his cupboard, "Mummy? Do we have to take the freak with us? I don't want him spoiling my birthday trip!" He heard Petunia sigh. "Diddly-Dums, we have to take him. What would the neighbors think if we left him here for a month? We could get in trouble, dear. Not to mention that there are people like... him, and they wouldn't appreciate it either." Dudley stomped his feet, causing another shower of dust and spiders to fall on Harry. "But Mummy-" "No buts," Petunia scolded. "I'll get you ten more presents to make up for it, but the freak has to go."

So here he was at the airport, after the very long car ride, where he had to sit in the back with Dudley, who had entertained himself by squishing the other smaller nine year old into the car door whenever there was a turn, and taunting him any other time. Harry was suddenly glad he wasn't in as much pain as usual.

Unfortunately, he can't say the airplane journey was much better.

The Dursley's didn't want to be seen with him in public, getting him a seat as far away as possible. Harry would've liked to say he sat next to an old lady or a couple that would have been nice to him, but he didn't have that kind of luck, it seemed, so he was sitting next to two men, which he already hated enough, but one of them was snoring obnoxiously in his ear and the other was staring at him in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Males had always made Harry uncomfortable. Of course, the only two men he could base this off of were Dudley and Vernon, who both hated him, but he couldn't help how he felt either way.

When they landed in New Jersey, Harry got lost in the airport, seeing how the Dursleys didn't bother to wait for him, instead heading right for the baggage claim. It was only pure luck (if he could call it that) that he heard Dudley over the crowd yelling at Petunia that he wanted to go to Cinnabon. He stayed in the shadows as he followed them, careful not to make his presence known until they got the the rental car, though he could see Vernon's disappointed face when he silently climbed in next to Dudley.

As they were driving he could see Vernon's beady eyes glancing at him through the rear view mirror, and he watched with dread as Vernon smirked, speeding up and making a turn. This startled Petunia. "Dear, you're going the wrong way..." Vernon patted her knee. "It's alright, Pet." He gave Harry a particularly menacing glare. "I'm going to get rid of that freak once and for all!" Harry's eyes widened at the threat. Petunia herself looked back at him a little unsure. "But won't the other freaks-"

"We're in America, Petunia," Vernon assured her. "Besides, no one cared enough about him to see him at home. They won't even notice he's gone." Harry felt his stomach drop to his feet, fear taking it's place. His aunt glanced back at him, before nodding. "Where are you taking him?" she asked. Vernon chuckled darkly.

"Camp Crystal Lake."

Harry shrank back in his seat. He knew all about that place.

It had been on a TV show Dudley had watched once, about 'Mystery Places' or something. Apparently, there was a boy named Jason Voorhees that had drowned in the lake there while the counselor's were busy 'doing the do', but barely survived only to see his mother's death. They say that Jason protects the camp, and that since then, anyone that goes to the camp never lives to tell the tale.

But it wasn't real, right? None of those places in that show were real, or at least, the stories weren't true.

So why was he shaking with fear as Vernon pulled over next to the sign that said, 'Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake'?


Jason looked up from sharpening his machete, sensing a presence at his camp. 'It's been a while. They just don't know when to stop, do they?'

Strangely enough, there was only one teen entering the camp. Usually, Jason thought bitterly, they bring a whole group of sex crazed teens that he has to kill for his mother. 'Maybe they're coming to meet up,' he guessed. Well, whatever, it didn't matter to him.

They were just going to have to meet up with a corpse.

He sheathed his weapon, setting out to punish the human that dared coming to his camp.


Harry watched from the side of the road silently as the Dursley's car got smaller and smaller with distance. He was certain that this was going to be the last time he saw any of the Dursley's, and yet instead of relief, this thought filled him with fear. There wasn't another town for miles around, and it was just beginning to get dark. So here he was, a nine year old in America, the only hope for him until morning being a camp where everyone who enters dies.

'Well,' Harry thought as he entered the forest surrounding the camp, 'the Dursley's were right about one thing.' He shoved a nearby branch out of the way, crawling through some bushes and hoped he was going in the right direction. 'It's not like anyone will notice if I die here.' Despite this fact, Harry still feared for his life.

What would he do if he survived though? He knew there was no way back to Britain, and he also knew there was really nothing for him here. He was too young to do anything, and he certainly didn't want to go to an orphanage, not after hearing the Dursley's spout off how that's where all the bad kids go, and where he should have gone.

'Maybe the legend is all a lie and I can just stay here,' he thought hopefully. As it was, it was steadily getting darker, and after his long day with the Dursley's, he was ready to just lay down and take whatever was coming. He shivered at the night chill began to set in, and looked around, squinting, looking for any sign of civilization. Finding none, he sighed, and started looking for a decent spot to sleep instead.

It's not like this would be the first time Harry has slept outside.

He settled for a little nook between two trees, curling up into a ball against the cold. His eyes watched as the sun disappeared, and his ears listened to the gentle lull of the forest until his eyes fluttered shut and he was carried off into sleep.

Meanwhile, Jason was still looking for the intruder of his camp. It had been at least an hour and he still hadn't found the teen yet, and he was a bit worried that he was losing his touch. His mother hadn't said anything about it yet, so he just continued his search.

His fist tightened its grip on his machete. 'Where is this kid?' He stood silently, listening. He could hear crickets, cicadas, the wind whistling, and… soft breathing?

He must be getting closer.

He stepped in the general direction of the sound, when his concentration was suddenly disrupted by loud music. 'Damn it. I knew there would be more. Norman doesn't get this much trouble at the hotel,' he grumbled internally. Like seriously, what was so enticing about his campgrounds that made every teen to ever exist want to come here?

He creeped around the camp, and he found the other teens very quickly. There was about ten of them, and they weren't even trying compared to the first teen, dancing around a fire to horrible modern 'music'. There were couples making out on the ground, making him grunt in disgust. He wanted to kill them now, for invading his territory then just so blatantly sinning in it.

But he was a serial killer, and he was nothing if not patient.

Though maybe he didn't have to be, he pondered as he watched a teen wander from his friends. "I gotta piss. I'll be back," he told them, walking into the trees. "Don't stay away too long, Cash!" A girl called out after him. Jason grinned behind his mask, finally.

The boy wandered around, rustling the leaves with each of his steps. Jason snuck up behind him, sticking close to the shadows, and when she was just about to plunge his machete into the teen, Cash suddenly tripped over something. Jason quickly ducked back to the shadows to observe.

Harry yelped as he woke to sharp pain in his ribs, coughing for the air that had been knocked out of him. He heard rustling and froze, hoping it wasn't a serial killer. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, determined to will himself invisible. He flinched when he heard a, "What the… is that a kid? What the hell is he doing here?"

Jason watched, intrigued as a child was revealed underneath several leaves, scared and shaking. Could this be the first intruder? He heard a murmured, "Please don't hurt me," and a mix of feelings hit him right in the heart, leaving him confused. He could see the child was small, six or seven at most, definitely not his type of prey. He seemed innocent enough, scared definitely, but he would just have to wait it out.

Cash looked closely at the kid, and replied, "Yeah, I mean n-no, of course not. I won't hurt you, kid. What are you doing here? Don't you have camp set up somewhere else? A family to go back to?" The boy paled and shook his head vehemently. "P-please don't send me back, I'll be good, I promise!" The teen was stunned by his outburst. "Look, kid-"


"Harry. Aren't they gonna be looking for you? I can't just hide you if they do…"

Jason suddenly realized he already knew the answer before the child even responded.

"They won't. It's just me, they left me here. J-Just don't send me back. Please," he begged, tearful and wide-eyed. Cash's own eyes widened. "They just left you here? When?" Harry sniffled, answering, "Yesterday."

Cash looked at him in disbelief. "So you slept out here all night?" Harry nodded, rubbing his nose. "S'not a big deal," he mumbled. Cash clearly thought it was, but seeing it wasn't going to do any good, let it drop.

"Alright, well." He sighed. "Let's just get you some food, but uh, before we do that I'm gonna go pi- use the bathroom. So, just wait here, and then I'll take you to my friends." Harry nodded again, picking at his pants, and Cash found a secluded spot and quickly did his business before coming back to Harry.

"I'll warn you, my friends can be a bit… wild." Jason silently scoffed, but Harry just kept walking silently next to him, Jason following them in the shadows of the trees. "That's okay," he said quietly. Finally they came back to the little clearing, where almost immediately the girl from earlier walked over to the two. "Damn, Cash, don't take so long. I was starting to get worried." As they talked, Harry looked around, scrunching his nose at the half naked teens. 'Wild' wasn't a word he'd use for the experience.

'Gross', maybe. He blanched as the sound of loud moans reached his ears. Yeah, definitely gross.

"Who's this little guy?"

Cash turned, startled, as if he'd forgotten Harry was even there. 'Figures,' Harry thought bitterly. "Oh. Um, this is Harry. I found him." The blonde raised her eyebrows. "You… found him?" In a lower voice, she said, "Are you sure you should have brought him here?"

Harry, a bit annoyed now, said, "Do you really think you should even be here? This is an abandoned camp, and people come here to mess around, and they end up never leaving." The blonde sneered at him now. "Oh yeah? If that's what you think, then why are you here? Aren't you like, six?"

At the reminder of why he was here had him tearing up.

Cash hit her on the arm and hissed, "Brittany!" She rolled her eyes at him. "What? He asked for it!" Cash shook his head at her. "Dude, his family ditched him here last night." But Harry was already running off in another direction, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach as he pushed away branches that scratched at his face and arms and legs, ripping at Dudley's old clothes.

He ran until he could run no more, finding an old looking cabin and hurrying inside, slamming the door behind him like a petulant child. He gave a cry of rage and clenched his fists, stirring up years worth of dust as he turned and swung at a nearby lamp, knocking it off of the nightstand. Unknowingly to him, his magic flared and made items tremble, and Jason watched from an outside window curiously as the child ranted angrily, "No one even cares! I get deserted again and again, ending up at the starting line again before I'm even halfway there!" Harry sat on the floor slowly and looked at his hands forlornly. "Am I really that unlovable?" he whispered. "To be left here to die?"

With that last whispered question, Jason made up his mind and angrily stalked towards the teens that had hurt this little boy so much in such little time. He had teenagers to kill, and then he was going to pay a visit to the Bates Hotel and see what he could get done about this.

For once, he made quick work of the teens, slashing and stabbing them before they had the chance to scream out, though Cash had attempted to run in the direction Harry had gone, to warn him, Jason supposed.

Jason had corralled him into a trap, successfully beheading him, even though Cash had called out with the last few seconds of life, "RUN, HARRY!" and then Jason had swung his machete, and all was silent.

He needed to talk to the others. But before he could go to the hotel, he had to get the boy. 'Harry,' he thought. He sheathed his machete in a belt loop and trudged to the cabin that he knew had Harry in it.

Inside the cabin, Harry was wide eyed and trembling. Someone, no, Cash, told him to run. He forced himself to calm down. 'Why would Cash do that? He forgot about me, and I insulted his girlfriend. He's probably pranking me,' he thought angrily. He heard a thud outside, spiking his fear once again. 'It's just Cash… right?'

Just to be safe, he hid himself in a nearby closet, the door open a crack to look out. He heard another thud, then another.


Harry heard the door squeak as it opened on old hinges, and at this point Harry was trembling again, watching from the crack as a very tall, built man appeared, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor as his boots touched the ground. Harry looked up from the boots to see his face, but instead saw an old hockey mask.

Why wear a hockey mask? Why was dread building up in his stomach? Why did he feel like he knew who this was?

A flash of light caught his eye, and he stared in horror at the machete that glinted in the lamp light. He was going to die in this camp, a camp he didn't want any part of, by Jason Voorhees. He whimpered at the thought, getting Jason's attention unintentionally.

He scrambled to the back of the closet as Jason walked to it quickly, ultimately giving away his hiding place. He fell on the floor in his haste, scooting to the corner and making himself as small as possible. As the door opened, he squeezed his eyes shut, arms curling around his head, knees in front of his vital organs, just like he did whenever Vernon beat him.

Jason stood awkwardly in front of the doorway, wondering how the hell he could get this kid to come with him. He didn't exactly look non-threatening.

"You could start with dropping your weapon, son," his mother suggested to him, shocking him. "Go on," she encouraged. Dumbfounded, he dropped his machete, making it clatter on the floor. He watched as Harry peaked out from under his arms, confused.

"Quickly, make yourself as close to his height as you can. If you're larger than him it makes him feel more trapped." He grumbled silently as he did so, getting on his knees in front of the door, and stared at the boy, who stared back, bewildered.

"Jason…?" Harry questioned softly. The hockey masked man nodded slowly.

"He's hurt," his mother noticed. "There," she says, "on his arm." Just like she said, on his arm there was a large gash that was bleeding all over his arm and dripping on the floor. Harry followed his gaze to his arm confusedly.

"Oh," he exclaimed softly. "It's, um. It doesn't hurt, I didn't even notice it. I've had worse." Jason raised an eyebrow behind his mask as he reached out for the arm, taking note of the flinch the boy gave. He halted and tilted his head to the side questioningly. 'Will he let me help him?' Then Harry took a deep breath and gently laid his arm in Jason's large palm, scooting a bit closer for easier access. Jason examined it, realizing it would need stitches. He would have to take him to the motel now, where Michael could fix him.

He slowly scooped the boy up in his arms, watching as his eyes widened and his arms automatically clung tighter to him, smearing blood on his shirt from the wound. Jason moved the boy to one side of his chest as he carefully leaned down to grab his machete, sheathing it on a belt loop opposite the side of Harry. The boy watched him warily from his position, tense, and Jason knew there was really nothing he could do about it. He held the boy closer to him anyway as he stepped outside and headed for Bates Motel, his second home.


Hey, so this is a little side project I've been working on even though I should be working on my other stories... *whistles innocently*

You know what they say, once the plot bunny arrives, it never leaves you alone. So here I am with the first (at least I think) Harry Potter x Friday the 13th crossover in existence (HOW HAS THIS NOT HAPPENED YET, LIKE, WHATTTTT)? Of course I'm getting some other slashers in this too but I just put it down as this because Jason and Harry will bond the most.

So this happened when I read HP fanfiction while watching Friday the 13th, and am I the only one that likes the results? I have two more HP crossovers in the making, but it will be a while until I really START them because I'm trying to get a good amount into Three Lonely Souls... That being said, this won't even be THOUGHT ABOUT until I update TLS. And probably Wings for the Heartless... and Se-

You know what, let's just say it will be a while until I update this.

Much love Xx