Summary: What if a young boy wished to be rescued from his abusive relatives? What if he was whisked away during a dark and stormy night? And what does a green dragon named Elliott have to do with it?
AU/Crossover with Disney's "Pete's Dragon"

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Disney's "Pete's Dragon" Reviews are welcomed, flames aren't. Don't like, don't read. Also, anything you don't
recognize from HP or the movie is mine. This may be non canon.

A/N: I do a lot of mall walking for my health and this crossover came to mind. I've got to think of something while walking. Guess what popped into my mind? So I did a little research.

Please note: Very few of the movie characters In 'Pete's Dragon' were given last names. So I decided to give Nora's lost fiancé Paul the last name of Taylor. Why? I dunno. It just seemed to fit. This won't be a long story. I may or may not do a sequel. I need to finish a couple other projects first. There will be no pairings or slash. Just a lot of fluff.

Harry's Dragon

Chapter 1: A dark and Stormy Night

Pete Taylor, also known as 'Lampie' by the locals, was busy plugging away on his computer keyboard trying to work out the latest chapter of his book. Hitting a bit of writer's block, he paused to stretch. It really was a dark and stormy night. The tropical storm that had been raging up the coast line had finally hit the small Maine fishing town of Passamaquoddy, a small coastal town situated close to the US/Canadian border.

When Pete wasn't working on his book deadlines, he was running the historical lighthouse that his family had been caretakers for since the late 1800's. His family wasn't always called the Taylor's. At the beginning of the century, the caretaker had only one daughter and she married Paul Taylor and they had adopted a boy named Pete. He was a direct descendent of that boy.

Pete was jerked out of his thoughts by a harsh pounding at his door.

"Comin'! Hold your hor. . . " Pete yanked the door opened. Not many people bothered him this far from town. And anyone that wanted to harm the lone lighthouse keeper couldn't get passed the security system that his family had put into place decades ago. Pete Taylor came from a long line of squibs and wizards. Yes, wizards. Another thing about Passamaquoddy, it had a small magical community.

Standing at the door, rain water running off his battered body was a tall heavy set man with greying brown hair, clutching a sodden brown seal-skin bundle in his arms.

"Ian O'Finn!" Pete exclaimed as he stepped out of the way. Pete and Ian went way back. Ian was a Selkie. He and his wife had made their home in the Cove beside the lighthouse.

Ian pushed past his friend towards the warmth of the fireside. "Me an' the Missus found oursel'es wi'a bit o' a problem, Lampie, m'boyo," Ian said in a very heavy brogue as he knelt by the hearth, unwrapping his seal-skin bundle. Inside was a small child wearing rags and soaked to the skin lay shivering. "Ye ken how we Selkies like ridin' the waves durin' a bit o' a storm. Well, this wee boyo fell from the sky near ta us. Where he came from, we hae na a clue, but tis certain that he be one o' your ain."

"Elliott," came a harsh ragged whisper from the boy as he tried to curl into a tighter ball.

Pete's eyes widened as his eyebrows disappeared into his hair line. Reaching up to the urn of floo powder that he kept on the mantel, he tossed a bit in and called, "Healer Ellen Fitzwater, Passamaquoddy Trauma Center," when the fire had turned green.

A moment later, a woman's head appeared in the flames. "Who's there and please state the manner of your emergency."

"Pete Taylor. Lighthouse Keeper, Passamaquoddy Cove. Ian O'Finn rescued a boy from the sea. He appears to be breathing but unconscious. Possible hypothermia."

"Step aside, I'm coming through," the woman stated. "Where are his parents? Can you tell me anything about him?"

A petite woman of undetermined age stepped through with a black bag in one hand and a slender wand in the other. Pete went to put the kettle on as Ian helped to care for the boy.

Together the three worked on the boy to get him stable. Neither Pete or Ian could tell the mediwitch much about the boy only that he had fallen from the stormy skies into the turbulent waves. If it hadn't been for Ian and his wife, the boy would've drowned.

"Thank Franklin, Merlin and the Goddess for Selkies!" Ellen murmured as she finally moved away from the boy. Reading the folder that she created when she scanned the boy, she started to curse under her breath. "And woe be the ones who did this to him! I'll have them up on charges in a New York minute!"

Pete tucked the boy into the soft comfortable bed in his guest room, before looking up at the mediwitch. The fishing town didn't sport much in the way of a full hospital, so it had been decided to keep the boy with him until the proper authorities could locate his parents.

"How bad is it, Ellen?" He asked as he sat by the boy.

"At least we know his name," Ellen said as she went over the list of the boy's injuries and test results. "According to my scans, his name is Harry Potter. He is eight years old. He is under-weight for a boy his age and showing signs of severe malnutrition. His hands are very calloused for a child. Also, there are several bruises that look to have been made from a large hand on his arms. Two long white scars are on his back indicating that at one point he has been whipped. Thankfully, there are no physical signs of sexual abuse. His blood sugar levels and urine samples showed that this boy hasn't eaten in over a forty-eight hour period. This child has been starved. I'm afraid I must bring in Pamela, Pete."

She looked up at the tall middle-aged man with a bit of sympathy. "I know you two don't get on but she is after all from Wizarding Children's Services. I haven't told you the last bit of news about the boy. He's been subject to a very Dark Curse and no one's healed it, allowing it to fester and mar his soul. Someone has put several blocks on his magic and that's not all."

Ian sucked in his breath as he backed out of the room. "Saints Alive! Wha' could pos'bly be worse?" He looked from the healer to his friend.

Pete ran his hand through the boy's messy sable hair. Smoothing the boy's bangs away from the lightening shape scar on his forehead. The boy, Harry, leaned into Pete's hand, seeking the comfort the warmth offered.

"Someone is leeching the boy's magic. Most likely through that scar. It is the source of the Dark Curse."

"Elliott," the boy called softly in his sleep.


I don't see this to be a very long story. But the fluff bunny demanded that I write anyways. A quick question that I'm trying to figure out, maybe someone out there can help. Do I make Pete a writer of children's fiction, murder mysteries (Shades of Jessica Fletcher) or Sci-Fi/Fantasy? I really can't decide.

Thanks Frau for the editing. Remember, reviews are welcomed, flames aren't. Until next time. –GF