The Point of No Return

Adopted from 'Monsters-Need-Love-Too'.

Old Summary: He had needed to get away; that was the simple truth. Harry has found himself stranded on Isla Sorna. Now, after six years alone, he gets the chance to escape with Grant and the group. BAMF Harry.

000

Hello my duckies! So, I found Monsters' story last year and really liked it, stumbled upon it again a few days ago and saw it up for adoption. I figured why not? There will be a few changes. I have six whole years to play with on an island full of Dinosaurs. I shall play.Also, I want to make things more difficult for Harry, so I'm going to be sealing some of the abilities given to him.

Basically, when I adopt a story, I rewrite it.

The original was entirely Monsters' brain-child and it was great. I wouldn't dream of copying her though because it's her story, regardless of my adopting it. So this won't be like the original. HEAVILY inspired by the original, yes, and have the same things happening (for the most part), but still different.

;D I don't think Monsters would like to reread her own story.

Anyway, enough rambling on my part.

000

Prologue

He had never been one of those children who liked dinosaurs as a small child. That had been Dudley's shtick. He was the one who had all the toys, watched all the 'Walking with Dinosaurs' programmes, all the horror films that had the giant scaly beasts. Sometimes, when they were younger, he would force Harry to play games of make-believe where Dudley was a T-Rex who got to jump and 'eat' the weak puny human. Harry still had scars from the bite marks his cousin left behind.

The point was, Harry didn't know, or care, about dinosaurs.

At least back then he hadn't.

Right now, he would have given his left leg – actually no, he was currently using that to run away. And he needed both arms for climbing. Maybe an eye? He'd lost his glasses two days ago so his eyesight was pretty useless right now. Yeah. He'd trade his left eye for more information on dinosaurs. Or more particularly, how they live – so he could avoid making himself an easy meal for them.

"HAAAAAH!" Harry yelled in desperate horror as he felt a puff of hot, rancid air against the back of his ankle, heard the sound of teeth snapping scant inches from him.

His lungs were burning. His legs felt like lead.

But in that instance, he didn't think his feet even touched the ground as adrenalin made the world narrow into a single tunnel in front of him. A tunnel that dropped away into a ravine and a low-hanging tree on the otherside.

He didn't stop.

He didn't slow.

He just jumped.

Bark tore at his fingertips as adrenalin borne strength had him clinging to the shuddering tree. He was already scrambling up and putting his back to the cliff edge, panting hard, gulping in air. His blurred vision watching the pacing creatures on the far side as they shrieked and barked angrily at him, thwarted. Because even though they may have been able to jump further than him, they couldn't climb, they didn't have the dexterity or the build. Plus, the cliff he had his back to was too high for them to jump up onto, they would fall short, and they damn well knew it.

His chest heaved. He coughed, hard, his lungs were ragged and on fire. It hurt to breathe as he tried to get his raging heart under control. He wasn't going to be moving from this tree for a while. His limbs were already coming down from the mad race there, they would be too weak, too rubbery to do much of anything beyond wait for the lactic acid to fade – Oliver Wood told him that when his body got like this, it was best to let it rest, stretch out if possible, but rest. Because if he pushed any harder, he may end up poisoning himself with his own bodily reactions – how that happened he didn't know, Oliver may have been full of shit on that front, but either way he didn't want to risk it.

He shifted weakly, shuddering and gasping on the tree-trunk, secure in the roots that clung stubbornly into the cliff face that he wasn't going to fall to his death and the tree wasn't going to drop to the river below. It was rooted in firmly. He watched with blurry vision as the beasts paced a little more, whickering in agitation and frustration before turning and padding off with liquid menace. Obviously reluctant to give up when a meal was right there, so close, but impossible to reach. His eyes scanned the foliage for movement. It was only after several minutes of only flies and leaves that he relaxed, bird song filling his ears once again. Even the croaking of tree frogs was audible now. The smaller, normal, wildlife always fell quiet when the predators were lurking around.

Slowly, with numb shaking fingers, Harry withdrew his precious spoils from the canvas backpack he had salvaged. A canteen bottle – empty, a thermal blanket – essential and possibly life saving as it got very cold during the nights here, bandages – clean and lots of them, a good steel knife – Harry almost kissed the blade when he found it, and a cereal bar that was unceremoniously unwrapped and crammed into his mouth. He was about to let the wrapper drop, but good sense prevailed and he tucked it up into his pocket. Maybe he could use it for fishing bait or something, they were attracted to shiny things weren't they?

Sitting back against the cliff, he wrapped himself up in the blanket and idly licked the cereal bar's crumbs from his dirty fingertips. Tomorrow he would have to head to the river to get some fresh water. He was in the north, not far from the Aviary so while he could just drop down into the river, he really didn't want to. It was too dangerous. His best bet was to climb up and circle around to the plains through the redwood jungle – plenty of tall trees for him to scamper and camp in should...

He shuddered fearfully. No. He shouldn't wait until tomorrow.

As soon as he had stopped shaking, he would head off. He couldn't afford to stay here. They knew were he was. If hunting was too thin on the ground in the near-by area they would make the effort of circling around the ravine and crossing just to get at him. He was intelligent like them, that made him a threat. He was fast, which meant they had to be smart in order to catch him, because – as he had just proven – when the chips were down and they could smell the brown streaks he was leaving in his boxers, he could ignore human limitations and beat a Velociraptor in a race. Something that, by all scientific accounts, should not have been possible.

And wasn't.

But when had he ever been normal? For short amounts of time, yes, he could out-pace a velociraptor. He was certainly more agile than they were as well, hence the only reason he was still alive after he stupidly walked right into a nest at the small village down the river. He had been so close to those teeth. He shivered remembering the smell of rotting meat, the putrid reek of death, saw the yellow of those teeth, smelt the old blood that still stained and clung to scaled flesh. Those teeth had come so close. Harry could only be thankful those claws didn't bend the same way as a human's leg did, didn't have the same dexterity, otherwise he would have been in trouble.

It had been three weeks since he had landed in this godforsaken place.

Fourteen, busted leg, dead body in one hand, that fucking cup in the other – he threw it the second they hit the ground, threw it as hard as he could as far as he could. He didn't see where it went. Couldn't care either. He was in the middle of nowhere (It definitely wasn't the Forbidden Forest, too hot and it smelt), with a dead body and a mangled leg. He had to do some fast work on his leg because, well he didn't know if an Acromantula was venomous or not. So he had to do something silly. He used a Summoning Charm to draw out the venom.

He was just unlucky enough that there was venom in the bite. He went into a seizure as the magic did its work, drawing out the clear toxin and having it run down his leg, mixed with plasma and blood where it stained his socks and shoes. After that, Harry tortured himself further with a cleaning charm that left his flesh throbbing, hot, and screaming in agony. He tore fabric from his shirt, cleaned it, and then wrapped it around his leg in a rough bandage, casting several cooling charms on it to numb the pain from his leg wound.

After that... well, he had to deal with Cedric.

Cedric who was still lying there with his open eyes. Harry tried to move him but... he was as stiff as a board, as if someone had cast a Fullbody Bind at him. Cedric who wouldn't – stop – staring.

He still had nightmares. Those eyes. Watching him between the leaves.

Harry took his wand and then blasted a deep hole into the earth. He rolled the Hufflepuff into it and piled dirt on top of him. Levitating a rock to act as a headstone, he carved the seventeen year old's name and the date of his death into the stone 'A loyal more steadfast friend I have not had the pleasure of finding. May he rest in peace.'. It was the best he could do in this strange place. He had thought, at the time, that if his parents took issue with the crude burial, then he would bring them back so they could take the body home and do as they wished. But leaving him out to get nibbled on by woodland creatures, insects, and other scavengers wasn't very respectful. He knew from his science classes that Cedric would start to... to rot. And yeah.

Then he heard the breath of something big. Something behind him.

And he looked.

And he screamed.

And then he ran.

He didn't know what the dinosaur chasing him was, he forced himself to suspend his disbelief over the fact that they were even existing with the simple understanding that – magic, if the Dodo was still alive, who the fuck is to say dinosaurs didn't still exist somewhere in the world? He couldn't think of any. But then, he was too busy running for his fucking life from a huge, ugly mother fucker with a long snout and a spined sail that decorated its back like the dorsal fin of a fish.

He burst out of the bushes and dove straight between the legs of an equally huge beast that he only peripherally recognised as Dudley's favourite – the tyrannosaurus/T-rex. He didn't stand around and wait to see if they would start fighting each other or just keep chasing him, he just fucking ran. He ran until his leg refused to run any further. Until it crumpled beneath him and wouldn't move, jerking and spasming with blood gushing like a faucet from the Acromantula bite.

He dragged himself up a tree, shivering and deciding that if there could be a fucking T-rex kicking around with Fishy, then higher was safer. Who knew what other nasty beasties were living on ground level? At least in a tree, above tooth level of a rex he would be safe from things that liked to eat meat.

And that was how he spent his first night on the island. Up a tree, shivering in pain and cold and adrenalin, with a busted bleeding leg, trying to rationalise the appearance of dinosaurs – well, not really, he had accepted that, and was currently trying to think of every breed he knew in an effort of trying to remember which ones ate meat and which ones didn't.

He managed to survive. How, he had no fucking clue. Luck, fast running, and a surprising knowledge of just what was edible around him had hauled his ass away from death more times than he cared to count – not to mention that he knew how to swim and how to climb. Something that not a lot of dinosaurs could do apparently.

Still, he never wanted to get on the badside of a tri-horn again. They had god awful tempers. Worse than bloody Hungarian Horntails!

Then Harry found signs of human civilisation. Not just human though, muggle. Because there were phones. Dead. But there. And then he found the room. The room with the nests, the broken eggs, the babies in the tubes. And he realised that the muggles had made these creatures. They were long dead, but they weren't anymore. Someone had brought them back using science. Why, he didn't know. Dinosaurs were dead for a reason, the world couldn't support their existence anymore.

For three weeks, Harry managed and he scavenged. He stole things from everywhere and he learned that two years before he arrived the place had been thriving, but under control. Muggles had been breeding dinosaurs on the island and then shipping them to another island which was being built as a theme-park, but then Hurricane Clarissa swept in and the muggles had to evacuate, but one of them released the dinosaurs into the wild before they left. No one expected them to survive. Something about their systems lacking some essential enzyme. Well, clearly they were wrong! The scaly bastards were fine, better than fine even!

Harry's leg healed. He had a glorious scar left over from the Acromantula bite and seemed to now be resistant to milk poisons, he had mistaken a few plants for something more benign and used them in a broth. Instead of food, he got poison that would have left him with food poisoning for two weeks spewing from both ends, he had an awful stomach ache for three days and was fine after that. After that, he became a lot more careful about what he picked up, testing with his nose, his fingers and his eyes. The three together never led him wrong.

He began to lose all sense of time as his world narrowed to finding food and fresh water, finding safe places to sleep, avoiding predators and mixing medicines for his bumps and scrapes and gouges.

In a way, the Dursleys kind of raised him to survive this. Going long periods of time without food and still having to be active. Running, hiding, and climbing from predators. Hogwarts refined his danger sense, his ability to perceive danger and his reflexes in avoiding it by the skin of his teeth.

He survived.

Barely.

000

Just the prologue. As said, this is adopted, but I do plan to play with it for a little before launching into the plot that Monsters' left for me. Harry will be a bit different, but that's mainly because he was somewhat younger than in her story – a necessity once I read up on the series. There are dates you know.