Waking up was a shock. First was the panic. gottarungottarungottahide Then came the disorientation. Why was the world spinning? And then the vertigo. Why is everything out of reach? Followed by the paranoia. Where are they? Where will they come from? The pain was an afterthought. Besides…

The rain seemed to be washing the pain away.

Or, at least, the rain seemed to be numbing is. For two days Harry stayed in the damp alley he found himself in, forcing his limbs to comply and cover himself with convenient cardboard whenever someone made their way through, his body a mass of pain. Even his pinky hurt when he tried to orient himself. An arm? He scared a stray cat with the noise he made the first time he tried. And what was the frantic mumbling he heard from the kid passing by? Some sort of spell?

Harry focused on nothing for those two days other than trying to move his damn bloody body, to the point he couldn't pay attention to any of his other needs. On the third day, he forced himself to do so. His stomach, while also in pain, couldn't be ignored for its hunger. His need for water, not so much. It had been raining nonstop. All he had to do was look up, pry his mouth open, and he had a nice mouthful of fresh rain water. Not the most hygienic, but something was better than nothing.

Slowly, Harry forced himself to his knees. Breathing deeply to at least curb the pain, he started clinging and climbing up the wall of the alley to stand. The effort made the edges of his fuzzy eyesight go dark. Moss greeted his fingertips, a cool welcome and distraction. Gritting his teeth, he persisted. He needed to find food.

Using the wall as a crutch, Harry slowly shuffled his way down the alley, cursing obstacles like garbage bags and a flower pot that made him have to go around. Still he persisted.

After what seemed like a pain-filled eternity, Harry could finally see light at the end of his alley. Peering out, it looked like a really old neighborhood though well kept. Looking from side to side, there were no moving blurry objects which meant there wasn't anyone on the street currently. It would be good to have glasses, but priorities first.

Choosing a random direction, Harry started climbing up the slight slope stiffly yet steadily. He couldn't use the walls here as it would make him look suspicious. They could come for him at any time. He didn't want to stand out. It was bad enough he was out in the open and exposed, but he supposed the washed-out rat look wouldn't draw too much attention.

As he walked the street, Harry tried to keep a lookout for signs of life, for life meant there was food he could pilfer. Stealing a loaf of bread from an open window was child's play after doing it often enough during his run through the backwoods of England while dodging Snatchers and Deatheaters. While he could smell things cooking, he couldn't make out the tell-tale sign of a window. Every now and again he could hear bigger crowds and they were sometimes marked by bright red balls of light on the outside. Lanterns he supposed. Harry wrote them off as restaurants after he caught a glimpse of people sitting at what he thought were tables at one of the places with the red lanterns. This one had a strong smell of fish.

Shaking his head, Harry continued up the slope. He didn't hear anything that sounded like English. Was something wrong with his ears?

Eventually, the houses thinned around him, giving way to a thick foliage of trees. A forest he could handle. It was familiar. Even with his eyesight he could forage for something to staunch his hunger.

Smiling slightly, Harry continued up the ever increasing slope until he came to a set of stairs with what looked like a red archway. It looked familiar, like he had seen it somewhere before. In a book perhaps? Hermione would know.

Harry shook his head violently and started forcing his boy up the steps. This was obviously a path that would lead deeper into the forest which is what he needed at the moment. He would have better luck finding something further in rather than on the fringes of the trees, and it would provide enough cover to hide in.

Slowly, he dragged his pained body up the steps. Why do they seem so steep? His mind focused only on making the next step followed by the next, and then the next, and then the next.

After what seemed an eternity, Harry forced his feet onto the last step having forgone crawling halfway through. He didn't think he would have been able to pick himself back up if he had done so, though he had been sorely tempted.

Gasping for breath, Harry took a short break to look around. There wasn't much to see at the top of the staircase except for what looked like a small shack. Was this someone's home?

With that thought, Harry decided that break time was over and headed toward the nearby tree line, intent on finding food. After a short ways in, Harry stopped to feel the trees. There was a particular way the trees felt combined with the way the shadows fell that would help him pinpoint edibles. Wild strawberries were his favorite while wild potatoes came in at a close second.

Running his hands over the tree, Harry became still. The bark was different. This wasn't an oak tree. The texture was off. Harry sniffed the wind. The scent was wrong too. He bent to examine the dirt at the base of the tree and gave it a sniff. The dirt here was heavily perfumed unlike the heady rich scents he was accustomed to.

Old friend panic started creeping back up.

And was forced down with a vengeance. Now wasn't the time.

Following old habits, Harry started scouring the ground for edibles with his hands. Eventually, he found something that looked promising. Sheltered in an alcove of stones was a peculiar plant. Slowly, he pried it from the ground, got as much of the dirt off and gave it a sniff too. The leafage was a dark green which was a good sign while the stalk seemed similar to asparagus. Whatever it was wasn't poisonous though which was also good. Holding out the plant so that the rain could get to it, he gave it a good scrub to get rid of more of the dirt. Taking a fortifying breath, Harry took a bite. It was tart. Almost like rhubarb in flavor. Not caring, he devoured it.

Really, it was one of the best things he has had to eat in a long while.

Shaking his head of bad thoughts, Harry bent to collect another of the tart plant, intent on eating his full. He only paused when he started to notice that it was getting darker. Grimacing, he came to a decision while he gathered a small bundle of the plant to take with him. It was too late to try and make it back to the alley. Perhaps he would have luck hiding at the shack? He could hide under the stoop if he was careful. He had done it before. Gave the residence a scare that they were being haunted, but he could do it.

Turning back towards the shack, Harry approached with caution and gave the place another inspection. It was old, made of wood, and painted a murky yellow in places. Stepping up towards where he assumed was the entrance, Harry carefully listened for people. Surly there was someone here despite the small size of the structure.

Surprised when no sound of human life emerged, Harry stepped under the eave and looked up from under the paper hanging from a rope crossed over the entryway. Surly there would be a door here.

Harry pushed and prodded at the odd wooden lattice frame as there was no knob to turn. Giving the 'door' a particularly vicious jab with a finger, Harry stilled in shock when his finger went through the gap in the wood frame. Paper. The door was made of paper.

Que panic.

Not now. He couldn't deal with this now, yet he could feel his breathing starting become labored. The edges of his eyesight was starting to fade again.

Removing his finger from the new hole, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on his current mission. Bending down, Harry looked through the hole. There was a room on the other side. Now how to get in? What was it that paper doors did again? Slide?

Pausing, Harry looked for a section in the middle where the lattice work seemed to double. That would be where the sliding doors would meet, right? Finding it, he felt up the split. Nothing that seemed like it could be a handle, but as he felt further up, there was an indent in the wood, perfect for a handhold. Grabbing one side, he applied slight pressure, hoping it would slide as he liked.

The dark room greeted him with his success. Quickly, he scurried in and slid the door closed. Choosing a corner close to the door, he slid down into a ball and started munching on his harvest.

Panic started retreating. He had food and a roof over his head. Sure he was soaked and, now that the adrenalin he had been running on was run out now that he wasn't moving, he was starting to shake, but that was nothing new. He had dealt with worse. He would figure things out in the morning.

He wasn't Harry Potter, the Most-Wanted-Man-In-The-World for nothing. He would survive.

And que AN.

Disclaimer: All characters and series belong to their respective owners. I make no money writing this. It is just for fun.

I should really be working on my Usopp piece instead of this, but I just couldn't help myself. This bunny has been hopping around in my head ever since I 'rediscovered' KHR and read "A Swordsman's Road" by Leelhiette. It is awesome! It hasn't been updated in quite a while, but Lillhiette says it will be eventually, so I eagerly await.

I was also thinking of 'jumping on the Skull bandwagon', but figured there were a lot of fics out there that focus on the Skull-is-Harry concept. I love this concept and hope to adopt it myself eventually. I do plan on making Skull a better side character than KHR has him as, but we'll see. This fic I'm going to write by the seat of my pants. No notes, no nothing, only the idea that I know where I want to go with it. For instance, there is this one scene that keeps playing in my head where Takashi…well, I'll just have to eventually get there and you read it. ^_^

Let me know what you think!