I do not own or claim to own any characters, settings, histories, etc. that may be recognized as belonging to either the movie The Lost Boys or the book series Harry Potter. I make no profit from their usage.
The pungent sea air wafted across the landscape, causing the figure speeding along the coast on a motorcycle to gag. The man had of course been near the ocean many times before. He did live on an island after all. But during those times he had been too distracted by other things to really notice anything about it other than it was wet and it hurt like hell when in contact with open wounds. He had only found out that last bit a few months ago during a sea side battle during which he had been wounded and shoved off a cliff and into the water by an enemy fighter. He had been spitting mad when he had finally managed to swim to shore. That day his aggressor learned the true meaning of pain.
The man sighed and impatiently shoved a strand of long black hair behind his ear, disappointed with himself for allowing such thoughts to interfere with what was meant to be a relaxing vacation. He had been in the United States for several weeks, traveling across the country from Maine. He took great pleasure in admiring the new sights and culture. America was quite different than the United Kingdom, both in its culture and its over all attitude and ideology. He was nearing the end of his journey. He would take a brief tour of California before making his way to Los Angeles and his plane ride home. He was sad to be going but he was due to start an apprenticeship in archeology once the school year in England began and he wanted to get some things in order before he had to go to Egypt to meet his host and friend, Bill Weasley.
Harry Potter watched with mild interest as he came upon the welcome sign to the next town on his map, Santa Carla. The sign looked inviting enough. He kept his eyes on it as he passed it and spotted something that made him raise an eyebrow. Spray painted on the back of the sign was the faded legend, 'Murder Capital of the World'. Harry didn't know if it really was the murder capital of the world but he was fascinated by this little town. It was quite different from the other towns he had visited in that it seemed to have an air of age around it. Of course there were modern touches and fashions but the general feel of the place was definitely older. He always got that sense while traveling through London's old sides.
He pulled his bike into the parking lot of a small motel a few minutes ride from the boardwalk. Though he had plenty of money to burn he preferred to 'rough it' in the lower quality motels, and had even slept outside on a few occasions when he had been between towns and too tired to ride the extra mile. The motel room was small but clean and it would certainly serve its purpose. Sighing in relief, Harry shucked off his back pack and tossed it on to the small bed. Though the bag did not weigh very much, especially considering its contents, the straps had been rubbing into his poor shoulders, leaving some rather painful welts.
After resting a while and then showering Harry grabbed his wallet and made his way to the boardwalk. It was different during the night than in the day. The air was more charged and you could feel the excitement and life pulsating through the many different people crowding the shops and street. There was a concert raging down on the beach and from what Harry could hear through the screaming and shouting the band was quite good. Enjoying the night life around him but not wanting to join in, he made his way through the jostling mob near the concert and walked further down the beach, avoiding the groups of teenagers and lone couples as he went. By the time he finally stopped and sat down he was so far away from the boardwalk that he could no longer hear anything of the concert or rides aside from brief shrieks carried by the wind.
It felt nice to just sit there in the still warm sand and watch the waves crash against the shore. It had been a long time since he was able to relax like this without fearing assassins or Death Eaters would sneak up on him while he was unwary. So long in fact that Harry had feared that he would not be able to overcome the paranoia that came with being a commander in a war as bloody and devastating as the second war with Voldemort.
The war, at first, had not seemed like a war at all. It had started in his first year at Hogwarts when he had to stop Voldemort's spirit from coming into possession of the Philosophers Stone, and had continued on throughout his schooling when in second year he had to stop a basilisk controlled by Voldemort's memory from killing all the muggle born and half-blood students in the school; and in third year when both the sides of light and dark had gained back a valued member of their cause. The war had finally heated up in fourth year when Voldemort was resurrected back to full power and the first casualty was reported for the side of the light. Fifth year had suffered substantial losses on both sides when Harry and five others were lured into the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries. That night the light lost many people to injury and death, among the dead being Harry's godfather, Sirius. The dark had also lost several lieutenants but all of them were once again free by the time the end of the school year had come around.
The summer before sixth year was a blood bath. After losing Sirius and almost losing his friends, Harry had finally decided that he had had enough of Dumbledore babying him and had finally joined the front lines where he belonged. The first major battle came when Voldemort attacked Privet Drive. It was a long, hard battle, but in the end the light prevailed and Voldemort called a retreat. There were few substantial losses. No one that Harry knew had been killed, aside from the Dursleys. Harry didn't consider them worth the thought. After that it was one massacre after another. Both sides fought tooth and nail to gain ground but both sides were evenly matched and for each step that they took forward, the other side would be there, forcing the invaders back two.
Midway through the summer The Burrow was attacked. It was the worst battle any of the light had seen in a long time. Wherever Harry had looked his forces were falling, among them many of his friends. At the time he had not known if they were simply wounded or dead, but it had not mattered. What had mattered was that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were hurting his friends and family. Harry would not stand for it. He had fought like a demon, cutting down anyone who came in his path. He did not care if he used illegal curses or his bare hands, just so long as it got the job done. After the battle Harry had retreated back to Hogwarts, where he had been living since the Battle of Privet Drive. He was not sorry or in shock that he had killed the Death Eaters, or that he had crossed a line that Dumbledore had forbidden his fighters from crossing. Harry knew that they would have no chance of winning the war if they continued only capturing Death Eaters. No matter where they kept them Voldemort always broke them out again, killing many light supporters in the process.
Later, when Dumbledore and the other leaders of the light had confronted him there had been a fierce argument during which Harry had managed to convince all but Dumbledore that they needed to start using more lethal means of fighting. When Dumbledore, still convinced that they were doing the wrong thing, tried having Harry thrown in Azkaban, there was a great uprising in the Order of the Phoenix lead by none other than Snape, Remus, and Mad-Eye Moody. It seemed that a lot of people were upset with Dumbledore's handling of the war and decided that they needed a change of leadership. Surprisingly, Harry was voted the new leader of the Order. Many had thought him too young to take up the position. After the change of leadership the light side was finally able to gain ground against the Death Eaters, who were put off balance by the fact that Harry Potter was leading and encouraging his soldiers to use dark and deadly curses.
By the time he was to return to Hogwarts as a student Harry was quite surprised and infinitely thankful that very few Hogwarts students had been killed, and none of them that were his friends, though he knew that that would change as soon as the dark forces recovered from their latest battle. To his horror, he was right. The first of his close friends to be killed was Ron, who had jumped in front of a killing curse from an assassin that was meant for Harry. Next were Hermoine and Seamus and Colin Creevy during a Death Eater raid on Hogsmeade. By the time the war was ended the population of Hogwarts was down to less than half of the original children.
The last battle took place three weeks before the end of the school year. It was pure hell. In the confusion of that battle it was often hard to distinguish friend from foe, especially with the spies showing their true colors and they were in such closed quarters that you stood a fifty-fifty chance of hitting your own men. The confrontation between Harry and Voldemort was actually short and straight to the point, rather than the long, drawn out battle that everyone was expecting. At first it seemed that Harry would lose, but then in true Harry Potter fashion he put his months of studying and planning to good use and destroyed Voldemort's soul with an obscure and ancient spell that worked similar to a dementor's kiss.
After the final battle it took the wizarding world the better part of seventh year to clean up after the carnage left behind. During the clean up process Harry was constantly under surveillance from the Ministry. Obviously they didn't trust him after seeing how powerful he was. After finding out that Fudge was trying to slap him with murder charges and use of the dark arts, he figured that he needed some time away from the wizarding world. He also decided that he wanted nothing to do with the Ministry and so he decided to pursue two of his topics of interest: Archeology and Curse Breaking. During the summer before his sixth year Harry and Bill Weasley had become close friends. Late at night when Harry found himself unable to sleep due to nightmares Bill would often regale him with tales of his many adventures in far off and exotic lands until the raven haired boy would drift off to sleep.
After the war Harry had told Bill of his growing interest in Curse Breaking and his friend -no, his brother- had pulled a few strings in some high up places. Gringotts was more than happy to give him a chance despite the fact that he had not taken his NEWT's. Harry sighed. He would have rather gotten the apprenticeship through his own hard work on the subject instead of having it handed to him with no questions asked, but Bill hadn't taken 'no' for an answer, simply saying that if there was ever a time in Harry's life to be selfish, this was it. He could not thank the red-headed man enough for his encouragement. If it weren't for him, Harry never would have taken this road trip or made a move to defy the Ministry, previous infractions not withstanding.
He was startled by a sudden noise from the woods at his back. It broke him from his musings and caused his reflexes to kick in. He whirled around and glared hard into the trees, knife in hand, trying to see what had made the light snapping noise. He thought he caught a glimpse of movement from behind a tree, but at that moment a small raccoon came bumbling out of the underbrush onto the beach. When it saw him it paused for a moment chattered at him in an almost angry way, then turned and ran back into the woods. It created a dreadful racket as it went. Harry shrugged to himself and turned back to face the ocean. The raccoon must have been what made the noise. Still he remained tense, hand gripping his knife and ears straining to pick up any other noises.
Moonlight glinted off metal in the surf, causing Harry's attention to shift abruptly. From where he was standing he could not see what it was. Against his better judgment he started forward cautiously and paused at the waters edge. It was a necklace, though he couldn't tell what metal it was made of or if there was anything on the chain. He frowned at it for a moment and stooped down to pick it up before the next wave could wash it away. He knew he had erred the second his fingers closed around it. He had just enough time to note that there was indeed a jewel attached to it before an ice cold tingle crept up his spine and all the light in the world was extinguished.