A/N: A brain child of mine. Because Scott 'died' and Harry 'died'... So who says they can't meet?! ;) For Scott, this happens after he meets the Mute... He's just very good at hiding his true feelings...
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Jackson would come back and Harry would be more bad-ass. But I don't. So I have to live with what I'm given.
When Harry opened his eyes, he was back at Kings Cross. Except it wasn't quite Kings Cross. It was too... Clean. And quiet. Everything was white and it hurt his eyes. He stumbled up, dizzy for a second, trying to remember what happened. Then it hit him: Voldermort, the fight for the school, Snape, the truth, the woods, and then...
"Avada Kadavra!" The words echoed in Harry's mind and he flinched away from them. The pain of those two words were still fresh in his mind.
He was then aware of a raspy breathing coming from nearby. He looked around before focusing on a bench nearby. He cautiously crept closer to it, holding his breath as the rasping got louder. He crouched down-
Then jumped back in shock, stifling a shout of horror and surprise.
"What the fucking hell is that?!" Harry spun around, standing up as another voice sounded behind him. Another boy was kneeling there just behind him, American probably (the accent kind of gave it away), with black brown hair- His thoughts stopped as the guy stood up, and he stared at the guy's eyes. They were a glowing red.
Harry pointed.
"Your... Your eyes. Why are they glowing?"
"Glowing?!," the boy asked, raising an eyebrow, terror shining on his face. "Shit! What colour?"
"What?"
"Just... Tell me what colour? Please?," he asked almost desperately.
"Red." When the boy looked relieved, Harry was really unsure what to do. Who looked relieved when they're eyes where glowing red?!
"Well that's a relief." The boy held out a hand. "Hi. My name's Scott McCall." Harry shook it wearily.
"Harry Potter."
"Hi Harry. Um..." Scott glanced uncertainly around the empty train station. "Where are we?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Kings Cross at a guess."
"The one in London?"
"Do you know of any other Kings Cross Stations?"
"I'm an American! Give me a break. Plus I was... Somewhere else before and..." Scott looked round and wiped his hands on his face, checking his hands. "I could feel the blood, so where's..?," Harry heard him mutter. He raised an eyebrow, curious as to what he was muttering about, but decided to let it go. At the expense of his own curiosity. Which could never be sated.
"So why are your eyes glowing then?" Scott bit his lip, relief shining in his eyes at the avoidance of 'the topic', but still seemingly debating internally. Finally he sighed.
"I'm, um, an Alpha Werewolf. Its different for different types of werewolf." He glanced at Harry. "What are you?," he asked cautiously, looking like he asked that question a lot.
"Uh... A wizard." He expected Scott to laugh at him or just brush it off or something but instead he sighed.
"Great. So now I know a wizard, a Banshee, someone who came back from the dead-" Harry noticed he was ticking these off on his fingers "- no wait make that two, a were-coyote... Any more?" Harry glanced wearily at Scott as he ran a hand through his messy brown hair. It sounded like a completely unbelievable story... But considering the amount of shit he'd been through since he was 11, it was slightly surprising that someone else had as much as a fucked up life as he did.
Harry sighed and, backing away from the weird shrivelled up creature under the bench, walked up to the next bench, Scott following him, and sat down. He looked up at the werewolf.
"So...," asked Scott, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot as he stood in front of Harry. "Any idea how we got here?" Harry shrugged.
"No idea. Last thing I remember was being hit by the killing curse."
"Ouch," Scott said sympathetically, wincing.
"How about you?," asked Harry, shuffling over for Scott, who sat down next to him, huffing loudly.
"Well, we were trying to lure a bounty hunter who has the deadpool list of all supernatural things in Beacon Hills- don't ask," he said, interrupting Harry's open mouth. It's not like Scott could say something like that and him not ask questions! "Anyway, we were trying to lure them to the hospital, and well my friends had to 'kill me', because whoever's collecting the payments for this... Deadpool will only make the payments when they have evidence of a dead body... Yeah so my friends had to pretend to kill... Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry's face was one of shock: If Scott wasn't dead... Then did that mean that he wasn't either?!
"No, I'm just thinking...," Harry said, turning to face Scott, crossing his legs on the bench. Scott copied him. Harry was slightly unnerved by Scott's red eyes, the only real colour in this grey white world they were in. They seemed to be looking right into his soul, but they weren't like the eyes of someone like Voldermort; they were more of a comforting red, like they wouldn't lie to you and that you could trust this guy. So Harry decided to trust this guy.
"If you're not dead, and you're here with me..." Scott's eyes lit up with understanding.
"Then you must not be dead!"
"Well, I always aim to never be killed off by my mortal enemy," Harry commented sarcastically. Scott laughed.
"Yeah, but at this point I have so many people who I've pissed off that its kind of a guessing game to know when they're gonna show up again to try and take my powers." Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes at the similarity of their situations.
"Tell me about it. So, what's your story?"
They sat there talking for what felt like hours, as Scott told him about how he and his best friend, Stiles, had gone into the woods to search for half a body, how Scott had been bitten, Allison and her hunter family, Derek, Peter, Kate Argent, and then how during their next school year, Jackson was a paralysing lizard man, but no one knew, how one of their friends had been controlling him, then about the Alpha pack and the dark druid (who was their English teacher. Was it him, Harry contemplated, or was this starting to sound like his fourth year all over again? Minus the magical goblet, of course), their sacrifices to save their parents, opening the door in their minds, Stiles becoming possessed, Kira, Allison's death, and then how now they were trying to figure out the code for the deadpool list which all their names were on.
After Scott finished, Harry told his story, how he was famous in the wizarding world, then about the Dursleys, Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione, and the events that transcribed each year; the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius and the Dementors, the Triwizard Tournament, Umbridge and Voldermort's rise to power, Sirius' death, Slughorn and finding a way to defeat Voldermort, Harry's final mission, and the fight that lead to him being here.
Scott let out a low whistle.
"Well I think that for everything I've been through, you've probably got it about 10 times worse." Harry rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, no kidding." Scott stretched, ruby eyes closing momentarily as he yawned.
"So... What happens now?" Harry shrugged.
"No idea."
"Perhaps I can help?" Both boys jumped up from the bench at the unexpected voice, and when they turned to face the voice, Harry had his wand (how it came here with him, he didn't know) out and with a quick glance at Scott... Well, he now had fangs and, after a quick glance down to confirm it, claws as well. Scott caught Harry looking his way and shrugged. But when Harry focused on the man who'd spoken he nearly dropped his wand in shock.
"Dumbledore?!" Dumbledore smiled, blue eyes twinkling as they had before he fell from the Astronomy tower, his robes the same as ever.
"Harry my boy! How are you?"
"Confused."
"About?"
"Why I'm not dead."
"Same here," interrupted Scott, his fangs now retracted but claws still out. "Also, what is that... Creature under the bench back there?" Harry had nearly forgotten about the creature and flinched at the memory of the shrivelled up, bleeding creature... Suddenly he understood what it was.
"That's the part of Voldermort's soul that was inside me, isn't it?"
"Yes," Dumbledore answered simply.
"Woah, wait, what?! Now I've seen possession before, but part of someone's soul inside you?! What?!" Harry was about to explain (briefly), but Dumbledore beat him to it.
"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of bring introduced. I'm Professor Albus Dumbledore. I was the headmaster at Hogwarts. And you are..?," he asked, holding his hand out in greeting. Scott was about to take his hand when Harry noticed his claws. He nudged Scott.
"Claws," he reminded him. Scott looked sheepishly down at his hands.
"Heh, uh... Sorry bout that." The claws disappeared after a few seconds, shrinking back down to normal nails. He held out his hand again. "Scott McCall."
"And you are a what, if I may ask?"
"Uh, werewolf. True Alpha." Dumbledore nodded.
"Well, I believe Mr McCall, that you are needed back wherever you came from," he said to both boys confusion.
"How can-" Scott began, but was interrupted by a distant howl. Scott froze, head turning towards the sound. "Ok..." He turned back to Harry, a grin on his face. "Well it was nice to meet you, Harry Potter." He held out a hand, which Harry took, grinning. "If you make it out of this alive, try heading over to Beacon Hills, California." Harry laughed.
"If I make I out of defeating the greatest Dark Lord of all time? We'll see." Scott waved and started jogging off towards the direction which the howl came from.
Harry had a sudden thought. If Scott ever needed him... Well he knew where to find Scott, but how would Scott ever know how to find him?
"One second," he said to Dumbledore, who nodded and gestured after the retreating form of Scott. Harry grinned and then ran after Scott.
"Scott! Scott wait up a second!" Scott paused, turning back towards Harry.
"Yeah?"
"4 Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey if you ever need me. Although, if you wanna come over to Hogwarts in Scotland near Aberdeen to help us out with Voldermort..." Scott grinned.
"I'll see what I can do. And you will so owe me an explanation about that thing!" He pulled a pen out of his pocket (the weird things they were finding in their pockets, although there was what suspiciously looked like blood on the pen. Scott noticed and cringed slightly, paling) and wrote a number on his hand, waved one final time, then disappeared into the light. Harry stood staring at the place where the werewolf (a werewolf- how cool was that?! Especially one that could control his transformation. Kind of, anyway. Hermione was going to have a field day when he told... If they made it out of this alive). He turned back to Dumbledore and his expression sobered immediately.
"Please sir... What's going on?" Dumbledore smiled kindly.
"Don't worry, Harry. It will all be over soon. You've been such a brave boy."
Beacon Hills
Scott came to with a gasp. His thoughts were fuzzy as he tried to remember what was happening.
"Scott? Scott! Can you hear me buddy?" Stiles' voice sounded through the fuzz. He groaned loudly.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
"Dude, you just died and came back from the dead. How can you be fine?!" Scott smiled, remembering his final words to Harry Potter. A wizard. As if his life wasn't crazy enough.
"It doesn't matter right now. How fast can we get to Scotland?" Stiles looked at him incredulously.
"Why the sudden urge to go to Scotland, Scotty? Did you have a Lydia moment?," he asked sarcastically. A polite cough from the door caught their attention. Lydia Martin (and everyone else) was standing there, arms crossed and a not very pleased look on her face. Stiles paled and backtracked hurridly.
"Uh, not that there's anything, uh, wrong with that..." Lydia rolled her eyes. She turned to Scott.
"So, Scott. Why the sudden need to go to Scotland?" Scott's grin widened.
"I made a promise to a wizard." Silence reigned in the hospital room.
"Do you wanna explain that statement?," asked Stiles.
"You'd never believe me if I told you." Stiles laughed.
"Try us."
A/N: I know it's not EXACTLY how the episode ended... But artistic licence. So there. Now I must survive SCOTLAND. But no Hogwarts :,(