To Fate They Fall || HP

CH: 5 - Welcome To New York

It was just minutes after midnight when the storm rolled in. Dark clouds surged above a green-eyed boy sprinting wildly within a dense grove of greens and browns below.

The rain was gentle at first, landing softly on trees and ground alike and dripping gently off lush leaves, which swayed lightly in the oncoming storm's wind. But within minutes, the rain began falling harder. Pelting down upon all who stood exposed to Mother Nature's incurring wrath, as if to make a point, a resounding boom thundered in the heavens, bringing with it bright flashes which lit the night sky.

Strong winds blew through the region, carrying rainfall and hail and sending it plummeting to the ground with terrifying might, rattling both trees and buildings with equal force.

The icy rain and hard sleet beat down on a black-haired boy who ran with vigor through thick New York woodlands. The tree's protecting him only slightly from the damage of the storm.

The boy's body became quickly soaked to the bone with water, and his hair tangled down upon his overheated forehead with freezing rainwater. Slowing his movements, but only slightly. For the young man ran with fear-fueled adrenaline, and no storm, no matter how harsh, could stop him.

He was numb to the feeling of ice slicing at his hardly covered back. Yet his pace became reduced despite the blocked sensations. As the forest floor below him, now slicked with rain and mud, made running a dangerous task.

Harry Potter slipped and stumbled over bramble and roots -covering his already dirty legs in even more mud- as he traveled through the moonlit forest. His pace hurried, but Mother Nature proved more determined to slow his progress.

The heavy gusts of wind rattled loose tree branches, forcing them into his path and scraping him as he went.

His thoughts had long since become tangled and jumbled, moved a mile a minute as he tried to guess where he was, who was chasing him, and how he'd escape.

The forest was dense, and it proved impossible to see farther than twenty feet ahead, leaving the boy to run through the brush, blind.

He didn't like rushing through without any knowledge of where he was going, but there was no alternative. It was either he ran or got caught.

With each sharp breath, Harry was made painfully aware that he wouldn't be able to run for much longer. No matter how little he'd run already, it was only a matter of moments before his legs gave out beneath him.

Despite his adrenaline, hunger still ate at his gut, weakening his strides through the damp woods.

Lightning flashed, and the booming sound of thunder followed, illuminating the night sky once more with a white glow, making it seem as though it was day instead of night and brightening his path. If only for a moment.

The frenzied boy's progress diminished as the numbed pain started to work its way back to the forefront of his mind.

His very bones ached in protest as he advanced, and his muscles screamed with overuse.

But nothing hurt more than his left leg, where a hollow throbbing pain made his movements feel as though his ankle had broken.

He hated it, hating feeling weak and pathetic, despised the fact that these injuries made it so hard to run.

It made him feel guilty, for he may not have been able to remember their faces. But he knew that he'd failed people, people important to him, people who didn't deserve his failure.

Now he had no idea where he was, and his memories were a completely useless jumble of fragmented thoughts and scenes. And he was once again, engaging in and among something he never would've imagined happening.