Chapter Text
This school is a fucking joke, Harry thinks.
Only the first day and Harry was testing every ounce of patience within him to not just book it. So far it had been utterly boring and most of his classmates proved to be imbeciles. The brunet had already been harassed on multiple occasions by both girls and boys alike for various reasons. Whether they wanted to be his friend or simply probe at him like a new species since he was the new boy in school.
Boy, Harry scoffed at the thought, roughly pushing away his unappetizing school lunch and instead pulling a blood pop from his coat pocket. The slightly spicy taste calms his frayed nerves, and the wizard sighs, ignoring Mike’s calls for the him to join the jock at his table. Harry resists the urge to slam his head against the table, and tries to remind himself that he was the one who placed himself here for his own protection.
All in all, the wizard was trying to be as dull as possible, unappealing to his new classmates. He, in turn, would provide the same courtesy, and Harry sent a prayer to Albus to grant him the patience he’d need since he was staying in this droll town for the foreseeable future.
His emerald eyes wander without really taking in what’s going on around him. Eager for lunch to be over and to put this first day as the new kid behind him. Honestly, it couldn’t be that difficult to lay low in a school full of hormonal, angsty teenagers, he reassures himself. Relief floods through him and Harry feels his tense muscles relax. That is, until a bright pair of honey colored eyes meet his. He swallows, the enticing taste of blood going flavorless on his tongue as he sees not one, but four more pairs of the tell tale eyes of a hunter. A hunter he himself is all too familiar with, as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Thrice, has become.
All five vampires were gazing at him curiously for the most part, except for the girl with blonde hair, who shoots him a look of pure hatred. Harry ensures his face resembles disinterest, letting his gaze sweep over them and away as casually as possible. His heartbeat, charmed of course, has picked up in his apprehensiveness.
They couldn’t know, Harry weighed, for his eyes weren’t the signature red or honey color a vampire has. His still maintained their color, and while the wizard was deathly pale, the weather in Scotland tended to be cloudy. A simple explanation. As for the blood pop currently in his hand, it’s spelled to smell of cherries, since blood does have a bold scent, so he was covered there as well.
Everything had been meticulously planned down to the most miniscule detail. Harry’s disappearance from the Wizarding World was tragic, and his death believable. There was no reason to panic, simply because five others of his kin were literally less than 30 feet away….yeah, no reason to panic at all.
“Typical, bloody typical,” Harry muttered. Of course even in death the Fates couldn’t stop fucking with him.
The bell announcing the end of lunch brings Harry’s misery to a stop, if only for a short while. And with the rest of the students, the wizard tosses the remainder of his lunch in the garbage and makes his way to his last class of the day.
By the time he arrives the classroom it was already almost full, only a seat here or there remaining open. He surveys the room, mood souring further when two of the vampires from lunch are seated at the back, side by side. A girl with short hair, and a pixie like face openly watching him. And the other, a boy with shoulder length hair, blond like the girl’s from the cafeteria, who was surely wishing he was dead. And wasn’t that thought amusing?
Harry ignores them and takes a seat as close to the door as possible, hoping for a quick escape once the bell rings. Thankfully, the teacher doesn’t force him to introduce himself and Harry soon gets lost in the lecture about mythological creatures.
His teacher oddly reminds him of Snape, and the pang of loss hit him hard. Fucking Voldemort, fucking vampires, fuck his fucking luck.
His mood doesn’t improve the rest of the class. And after what felt like hours, the bell finally rings, and the Harry is out of the door before his classmates have time to even pack up their belongings.
The familiar sight of his motorcycle in the parking lot calms him, and Harry lets out a breath of relief. There’s nothing more he wants than to go home and be away from every single living and nonliving individual here. Without bothering to toss on a helmet, the brunet hops on the motorcycle.
Speeding through the parking lot in most definitely a dangerous manner, the Boy Who Lived catches sight of the five vampires loitering by their cars. He doesn’t miss the pointed glances his way, nor does he miss the heated discussion of his sudden appearance and alarming resemblance to them as he drives past.
Honestly, as much as they tried to blend it, they sorely stuck out. It only hurries him along, and Harry speeds away from them, his classmates, and the school that would now be a constant in his life.
He isn’t looking forward to it.