AN: I do not own either HP or Teen Wolf.

The hospital looked like any old hospital from the outside but Harry could definitely sense at least one magical creature inside. He had been called over to Beacon Hills, California for an entirely different reason but the presence of another magical creature made him weary. It had been several years since the war and he could still remember the feral look of Greyback as he killed his way through Hogwart's students. Harry walked down another hall and noted the sign that said he was headed down the burn unit.

He slipped his invisibility cloak over himself and avoided the nurses and doctors that were going about their business. Harry idly listened in on their conversation, again noting that he hadn't been called to his city because of any suspicious killings. He paused in the center of the hall, looking down the various halls that split off from this point and walked on, following the aura of the creature.

The energy reminded him of Greyback's, wild, almost feral but… full of pain. He turned left at another fork only to come to one hospital room that was alone in a corner. He glanced up at the room marker, looked at the name of the occupant and quietly slipped inside. Peter Hale. The name didn't bring any kind of recognition to mind for him but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and took in the man lying on the mattress before him, flinching at the sight. His stomach roiled in sympathy though he had seen worse. He slipped his cloak off and tucked it into a pocket, curling his fingers around his wand. The man before him was burned all over, his arms, his legs and down his sides as well. Half of his face was burned, the inflamed skin red and raw. Harry sucked in a tight breath and reached down to grab the case notes, flipped through them.

A fire six years ago had torn apart the local Hale family, killing everyone except for Peter and two other people. Only two people had escaped the Hale house fire without any injury. Laura and Derek Hale. Peter was the only other known survivor and had been in a coma ever since. The investigation into the fire hadn't come up with any information and had since been closed. Laura and Derek had moved to New York and that was that.

Harry stared down at Peter's body, keeping a tight grip on his magic as the man let out a raw noise. Harry sighed, took a deep breath and pulled over a chair, sat down and reached out. He gently entwined his fingers with Peter's left hand, smoothing his thumb over Peter's raw, red skin and brushed the man's hair off his forehead.

He took in the man's short dark hair and idly wondered what color eyes the man had. Harry took a deep breath and extended his magic out carefully, meeting the tornado of the man's aura. He pondered the man's situation, definitely able to sense the wildness within the man and marked him as a werewolf.

Though if he was a werewolf, why had he been in a coma for the past six years? Harry stared down at the man on the bed before him, glanced back at the doorway. Peter should have been able to heal by now, with his super werewolfy reflexes. Harry sighed and reached out to cup the man's chin, whispering an incantation under his breath.

And was sucked into a whirlwind of emotion. Peter's mind was in disarray, chaotic shades of red, orange and light pink, flashing quickly around him. Harry's stomach roiled and he took in a deep breath as he stood up. The flashes of color all looked like… fire to him as he started to walk, taking in his surroundings. Peter Hale's mind looked like the ruins of a fire, of a two story mansion on fire. He continued as he stepped into what might have been an entry hall, flames sprouting from every corner around him.

He stepped through flames, only feeling the slightest hint of heat and moved on as a raw scream tore through the air. Harry flinched at the sound and walked on, seeing bodies burnt to bits in the hallway. He followed the scream into the remains of the kitchen and over to the cellar door, cautiously nudged it open and stepping through. Smoke wafted through the air but didn't affect him as it floated right through his body, a ghostly indication that he was in someone's mind. Another scream echoed from somewhere past him and he tentatively took a step forward, meeting a set of stairs.

There was a burned up body halfway down the stairs, one that Harry passed by and didn't look too closely at, and another one just at the bottom. The stairway and the walls around him felt like they were closing in on him and he reached out to tap the wall gently, adding a bit of magic to it. He stared at the wall for another second before he raised his wand, whispered a lumos and watched as it lit up the room beyond him.

The walls and the floor in front of him were eerily transparent, flames flickering all around them. Bodies lay in the center, all burnt out husks of their former selves. Harry paled and was just about to move back, up the stairs when he spotted movement.

One of the bodies was moving, on top of another one, and squirming around. Harry sucked in another tight breath and walked over to take a closer look, his eyes widening when he realized it was Peter Hale. He looked just like he did in the hospital bed but a good bit more burned. The skin on his face was flaking off and his legs were covered in burns but it was him.

Harry's stomach roiled even more at the sight. "Peter?"

It looked like… Peter Hale was trapped in his own memories of the fire and not healing. There were no pack bonds to pull him out of it that he could see and the only bond that he could see, an alpha bond, was thin and frayed, as if Peter's alpha was… gone. Hale… Maybe Laura was the alpha, after their former had gotten killed in the fire though why she had not taken Peter with them…

As badly burned and injured as Peter was, he wouldn't have been easy to travel with. Perhaps Laura and Derek Hale were still on the run, still in the mindset of the hunted. Harry flinched and took a step towards Peter, kneeling down before him to try to meet his eyes. Peter needed an alpha to pull him out of this and Harry hadn't seen or heard of any other werewolf in Beacon Hills.

"Peter?"

Harry reached out an arm, grasping onto Peter's closest shoulder and squeezed, trying to get him to meet his eyes. "Peter. Hey."

Peter Hale's eyes were wild and clouded over with pain and guilt and the minute that Harry touched him, even in his mind, a raw noise left his throat. Peter started to scream again, the raw, pained noise leaving his throat and making Harry's heart hurt at the sound of it.

He pulled back a little, dropping his arms to his sides as he looked Peter's mind over. There was no other werewolf in Beacon Hills that he knew of and Peter… He didn't want to leave the man in a coma, trapped in his memories for much longer. Harry kept his eyes on the man's image of himself and not on the burned bodies, keeping his breathing shallow. Smoke and ash trailed through the air, curling about the bodies.

He cleared his throat and met Peter's hazy eyes, lowered his own voice a little and spoke.

"Peter, you're safe." He reached out to again squeeze Peter's shoulder, moved his hand to cup the man's chin to force him to look. "These are just memories. You're trapped within your own mind. Come on."

Peter stared at him blankly. Harry sighed and whispered two words, flashes of a bright memory going through his own mind. Prongs leapt from the tip of his wand and cantered around the smoky room, whinnying eerily only to stop behind Peter. The man's eyes widened only a little bit, a flash of… something entering those pain hazy eyes. Prongs took a step closer, lowering his head to nuzzle into Peter's back and Harry watched as Peter let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders deflating.

Harry closed his own eyes and whispered another incantation, traveling back to his own mind and opening his eyes back in his own body. He was still sitting on the chair that he had pulled over and there was still no evidence that anyone had come into Peter's room. He turned back to look at Peter and sighed in relief as he heard the beeping of the heart monitor change from slow and steady to the start of a much more normal heart rate.

A whimper echoed throughout the previously quiet room and Harry watched as Peter Hale slowly but surely opened his eyes. Peter stared at him blankly, his body shuddering with pain, his eyes glowing blue. And it wasn't just a trick of the light. Peter Hale's eyes were glowing and wide. His shoulders curled inward as the burn scars on his face changed and faded as his wolf healing kicked in.

"Who…" Peter's voice was hoarse, dry and pained as he broke into a coughing fit, as if the smoke from the fire had stayed within his lungs for six years. Harry looked around the hospital room, didn't see any pitcher of water and almost let out a growl of his own. He did see a cup though, a lone cup just sitting on the side table next to Peter's bed and quickly summoned it, pulled his wand out and whispered a quiet aguamenti.

Cold water poured into the cup and as soon as it filled, Harry tapped his wand against it and stopped the spell. He walked over to stand next to Peter's bed, pushed the button on the tablet by the bed to raise the top half and held out the cup.

Peter stared at the man next to his bed, his eyes narrowing as he inhaled sharply at the scent of power. It wasn't a power he was familiar with but the man was definitely strong. Not a werewolf but strong. The man was still holding the cup of water to him and Peter's mouth went dry at the sight before he reached out slowly, eyeing the man over the top of the cup.

The first sip was delicious and the second more so as he drank the cold water, finishing it in seconds and putting it on the side table. He met the man's green eyes and the wolf within him howled, remembering the slaughter and burning of his pack. Peter jolted up, flashed his eyes and growled, wanting more power, wanting to go after the men and women who had killed his whole family.

He shifted partially, claws growing at the edges of his fingers and fur growing on the side of his face and charged upward. His body was healing even now, finishing up what it had been doing for the past six years. He growled out again, enjoying being able to move without pain as he jumped up and over the bed, right for the man's neck.

The man raised an eyebrow and moved in the last moment, his green eyes darkening in thought.

Peter growled louder, his heart beating and blood pumping away, and launched himself again, aiming for the man's shoulder or arms and then… Something froze him in place, power curling around him. He tried to move his legs, his arms and couldn't. His stomach roiled and his claws disappeared as he glared at the man in front of him.

"No. Let's not do this, alright?"

The man had a British accent, not thick enough that he couldn't understand it, but obvious.

Peter struggled against whatever held him, growling once and then rumbled low in his throat through wolf vocal cords. He saw red in his vision even though he wasn't an alpha and knew it to be rage.

"Peter. Enough!"

Whatever held him vanished and he stumbled forward then charged again only to be kicked down at the knees and pushed over onto his back. The man stood over him and muttered words under his breath, power encompassing them both. A blue transparent stag whinnied eerily as it bent its head, its antlers dipped down and began to circle them. Peter gasped as pressure surrounded him, his eyes losing their glow and the fur withdrawing from his face.

"You need a proper alpha," the man spoke, quiet and yet there was something within those words that Peter couldn't understand..

Peter growled again and the man sighed before reaching down to place his hand on Peter's chest, meeting his eyes. Something snapped within him and he heard a distant yelp before black spots entered his vision. The last thing he saw was a glittering rope slowly appearing between them, connecting him to the man before him.

"I may not be a werewolf but I will do what I can, Peter Hale."