Work Text:
“Fuck.”
Harry kept on walking idly, shielding his eyes from the sun, as he walked through some tall grasses, over a narrow creek. The sounds of fighting echoed in the distance, maybe a mile away, and his heart thumped in his chest. His stomach lurched tiredly, his muscles a little achy from the fight he had just finished.
He glanced up at the mid afternoon sun and at the clouds, all but looking the same in appearance even though he knew… This wasn’t the same world he had grown up in. This wasn’t the wizarding world but it was something else and he had never found his soulmate. Never met the woman or man that was one half of his soul.
There was what looked like the ruins of a building in the distance, towards where the sound of the fighting was. Harry paused and tilted his head in thought, running a tired hand through his hair. Did he really want to get involved in a fight again? He was 25 going on 80, it felt like, and he wanted to find somewhere… peaceful. Somewhere he could settle down and maybe have a family, even if that didn’t involve his soulmate. He didn’t even know if his soulmate was back in his world. Back in the wizarding world. If they were, he wasn’t going to see them. He had traveled between worlds on purpose, and didn't want to go back even if someone paid him to. He had even suspected that he didn’t have a soulmate. No one around him in the war had started to heal while he was around them.
Still though… The shadows still followed him even now, pooling around his feet like eager puppies. And it wasn’t like he had lost his magic in the tunnel between the worlds. Harry tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants, feeling his miniaturized trunk in his left pocket, and walked on, his eyes widening in confusion as he saw black flames rise up beyond the line of trees ahead of him. The flames looked eager and determined, devouring everything in their path, and Harry wondered distantly if they were cursed.
He had yet to figure out if this world was the same as his in regards to if it had magic or not. Though black flames certainly pointed in the direction of this world being some kind of magical. Or maybe they were some kind of energy. But if it didn’t, if this world didn’t have any kind of energy or power, he wasn’t going to make a fuss over it. Harry kept his eyes on the line of trees ahead of him and kept on walking, passing the first few rows of tall, old trees. There wasn’t much in the way of noise, no occasional bird chirps or the movement of deer and rabbits and whatever. And that alone made him tense, just now hearing the voices that he had tuned out.
He sped up, seeing a group of people stopped at a line of trees, many of them cloaked in white. They were all in various ready stances, looking up at another guy in a tree. A guy that had… Harry blinked in confusion at the sight of the masked guy before shrugging and moving on, deciding that it really wasn’t his problem. He just barely restrained his own curiosity before cloaking himself in power, the invisibility cloak settling over his shoulders in a cold hug.
Harry’s heart thumped in his chest as he continued to study them, distinct rhythms of sadness echoing through his body. They all had various weapons tucked into their clothing, into pouches. He could see the certain glint of metal on everyone--knives, weapons that he was pretty sure were called shurikens-- and he squinted, spelling a sensory charm into effect. The people in front of him and now, beside him, were mostly teenagers. Teenagers who looked world weary already, who looked like… Harry flinched as he caught sight of one of them, a blond haired kid who radiated power. He knew that look, had seen it in the mirror one too many times. Haunted and determined, stubborn.
He looked haunted by something, lines around his eyes and forehead that spoke of a hard life already. And that just wasn’t… He swore under his breath and continued on, deciding to file away that observation for later.
Child soldiers. This world was using child soldiers.
Only two members of the group now behind him were adults, one with silver hair and a mask over part of his face, and another with dark brown hair. Harry sighed and continued on, passing under the masked man they were all staring at that rather made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up.
The masked man spoke in a high pitched tone of voice, sounding young and old at the same time. Harry shivered and walked out of the trove of trees, peering up at the ruins ahead of him. The mid morning sun glinted off a few bits of metal around the old building but he could tell that it had long gone unoccupied. And then his attention was drawn to the giant, towering skeletal figure that rose up to the side of the ruins. It looked to be built entirely from power, from a kind of power that Harry had never seen before. But it was orange and red, glowing with a sword held in its right hand. The red of the giant skeletal soldier was almost Gryffindor red, almost, but not quite, leaning towards being lighter than that.
Harry’s eyes widened and he rose up into the air with a whispered word, as he heard the tell tale sound of wings fluttering at his back. They weren’t actually attached to him, weren’t physical wings at all, but being the Master of Death did have some perks to it. Being able to fly without a broom was one of them, as he used some of that enormous ocean of power to rise up into the sky to take a look at the fight.
When he took a closer look at the giant skeletal soldier, he could see what looked like a young man, maybe a few years younger than himself, standing in the center of it. Long dark hair pulled back in a tail, though most of the man’s hair had escaped the tie. Blood dripped from the guy’s lips and his skin was pale, paler than was probably healthy. His eyes were squinted, narrowed, like he was trying to see. Harry could see a glint of red in those eyes and his stomach lurched sickly at the sight before he took a breath, shaking his head. This was not Voldemort at all.
Harry was just about to turn around, head off somewhere else, when the teenager the man was fighting cried out. The teenager changed, his skin darkening, his eyes turning reddish yellow and marks began to slither across the boy’s skin. It made him look like a demon, like something out of a story, and then snakes burst out from the teen’s shoulder. One huge white snake that had 8 heads that roared out angrily, charged right towards the man. Harry’s breath hitched at the sight, as power radiated from both the teenager and the man. It was all different signatures too, one from the young man and two from the teenager. It was like the teen had… another soul or-- Harry stopped still, frozen in the air, as he ran a hand through his hair, making the connection. It was like the teen had a horcrux in his body, another soul or power or whatever the fuck it was.
He jolted a bit in the air, his breath caught in his throat, the air around him charged with tension. It was like everything had stopped to watch this fight, everyone and everything turning their attention to watch it.
The fight that quite a lot of people were waiting around to see the outcome of. There had been that group of teenagers and two adults and then there was the group of four people standing on the other side. If Harry squinted and tilted his head, one of the men looked like a shark. Harry blinked in confusion and bewilderment, eying the enormous sword that the shark-like man was holding onto.
Harry turned back to watch the giant skeletal soldier, his eyes widening in awe as it took steps towards a teenager who now had white snakes curled around him. The giant soldier struck out its sword at the snakes, slicing through seven of its heads in quick procession.
He didn’t even know who he was rooting for, didn’t know either of them, but something kept him from turning away. Kept him from fucking off for parts unknown and he didn’t know what it was. Whether it was the look on the young man’s face, the guy who was apparently manifesting a huge ass soldier as both offense and defense, or it was the teen. On second thought… there was a twinge, a little curl of something that kept his attention on the young man.
He watched as a new older man appeared in the head, in the mouth, of the last remaining snake. That second soul or power went with it and Harry stared at it, wrinkling his nose in dismay and partly in disgust, twitching when the man gagged and a sword slid out of the man’s mouth. He stared at it, entranced, watching as the skeletal soldier moved, striking out instantly with its sword. The older man that had slid out of the snake’s mouth cried out as he was sucked down into the sword itself and vanished.
He watched as the young man inside the giant flame red soldier walked towards the teenager, or more like swayed, coughing up blood every so often. The guy appeared to be trembling on the spot, using all of his energy to stay standing, to continue walking towards the teenager.
The teenager threw knives right at the man only for them to be blocked, the giant soldier holding a shield in front of him that deflected the knives. The teenager screamed, fury and fear and frustration in his voice, exhaustion echoing underneath it.
Harry’s eyes widened in more than a little amazement, his heart thumping loudly in his chest at the sight. It was just so much power in one space, power that he was totally not familiar with. He took a few steps towards the two combatants, more out of curiosity than anything, seeing them both sway with exhaustion and hurt.
He watched as the man taunted the teenager, saying something about eyes and wanting them. As soon as they were close, Harry blinked in confusion, the sight of the two black haired young men making him twitch. They looked related, close enough in age to be brothers.
The young man reached out a bloody hand, his fingers pointed right at the teenager’s forehead. The teenager scuttled back like a crab, no longer looking like a demon, back to pale skin, bruised and beaten and bloody, his hair all astray, and ran right back into the wall of the ruins behind him. The boy’s eyes were wide with fear, with sweat rolling down his skin, breath hitching. It seemed that whatever the young man had done, whatever the giant soldier had done, had banished the snake, banished the extra source of power for the teenager.
Harry took another step and another, floating down to the ground, keeping his eyes on both of them. The moment that the young man reached the teenager, he paused just a foot away, speaking a few words that Harry didn’t quite catch, before booping the teenager’s nose. Blood smeared along the path the younger man’s finger left and then the man’s knees buckled, legs giving out.
With a gentle thump, the young man hit the cement ruin underneath them, his head hitting the wall as he slid down. Dead. The elder wand hummed in his pocket, warming at the presence of death.
Harry’s breath caught and he ran over, uncloaking himself as he hurried, kneeling down. The teenager stared down at the young man, his eyes wild and unfocused for several minutes, before he too fell over, passing out from exhaustion and pain and quite probably a few broken bones.
Harry stared down at the two of them, sucking in a breath at the release of tension. The air seemed to relax around him. Birds came out of hiding places and chirped their welcome. Harry peered over the teen, glancing down at him, seeing his chest rise and fall slowly, shakily. Definitely broken ribs.
He glanced over to the young man, was about to disregard the body when he caught sight of one of the man’s bruises slowly but surely… knitting itself back together. Harry jerked back as his heart thundered in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears.
He didn’t even know the guy’s name. Didn’t even know the teenager’s name. But as he switched his attention to the young man, who was maybe a couple years younger than him, he took in the cuts and bruises that were slowly healing, the skin slowly mending itself.
“Hello, excuse me. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking them.”
Harry stilled on the spot and turned around, his mind caught on the sight of that skin healing by itself. It was like a reel in his head, repeating over and over again. Hope bloomed in his chest, curling itself around his heart and squeezing. He didn’t even care about the fight or the reason behind it.
The masked man in front of him stared at him for a moment before taking a step closer, his intention very clear. Harry let out what might have been close to a growl and cast a blasting charm, hexing the man into next week. The man yelped out loud as he flew back twenty feet, squealing loud enough to wake the dead as he landed close enough to the black flames. And then started to giggle, getting his arms up to prop himself up.
The hair on the back of Harry’s neck stood up at the high pitched noise before turning his attention back to his possible… His breath caught at even the thought that he had found his soulmate.
The young man on the ground let out a loud gasp, gasping back to life like it hurt him, writhing in place for several seconds before going limp again. Harry flinched and reached out, slipping an arm underneath the man’s shoulders and legs and lifting him up.
“...Sas…”
Harry peered down at the man in his arms, feeling how light he was, and meeting dark eyes. Eyes that began to shutter closed even before the man’s left hand jerked like a puppet, pointing at the teen on the ground.
“Sasuke…”
The guy’s voice was low, rough and exhausted but Harry picked up on enough of his gesturing to know what he meant. He gestured with his own hand and threw out some power, lifting… Sasuke into the air. He gentled his power a little bit, made sure Sasuke was well and truly passed out, and floated back up into the air, taking off at a run. His soulmate’s head fell against his chest and Harry’s heart thumped quietly.
Harry inhaled sharply as he saw his possible soulmate’s chest pause, saw his body twitch. The fire in the fireplace crackled behind him, the air in the tent otherwise quiet. The mid afternoon sun shone through the tent ceiling, making the tent warm and bathing it in orange and yellow. His soulmate was lying on the bed in front of him, healing steadily, with a little help from Harry.
He had cautiously undressed him, laying what was clearly a combat suit, an undershirt that was more armor than not. Leaving the man in his underwear and a light shirt before laying him on top of the bed covers, his long dark hair spread out around his head like a halo.
His soulmate’s… brother or whoever the fuck he was… was asleep on the bed behind them. Drugged sleep after a day of healing, broken bones, exhaustion, and some kind of power. Harry didn’t know what it was called but it wasn’t magic but it trickled through both of their bodies, sparking at each touch by Harry’s own magic. He’d had to be careful after the first time he tried to heal Sasuke, after he had first touched the teen’s right hand and it electrified his own hand.
It had been three long days of drugged sleep for the both of them. He’d gone back to the place he had entered this world, several miles away from the ruins he had found them in. Unoccupied by any people, a few trees dotting the surroundings. A small creek trickling a few minutes away.
A low noise drew his attention and Harry turned back around, his eyes widening when he saw that the guy was no longer on the bed. He jolted and stood up only to be knocked down again, falling onto his stomach, a knee pushing into his back.
“Who are you?”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Harry whispered, shivering slightly at the man’s voice. “If I really wanted to, don’t you think you'd be dead already?”
“I… I am dead. I let Sasuke…”
The knee disappeared and the weight of the guy left his back. Harry slowly sat up, facing the young man, taking in the sight of him. He sucked in a breath at the tight muscles on the man’s chest that were visible through the shirt, licking his lips before forcefully shoving those thoughts away.
“No…No, no, no. I can’t be…”
The guy’s hair was all askew, his eyes wild and frantic, his skin pale. There was no more blood on the man’s face, no bruises, no contusions but Harry did notice the guy’s hands. His fingers were elegant looking, his nails painted black, and every bit of the guy was graceful in appearance. He had managed to get out of the bed and move to the opposite corner of the tent, all without Harry hearing him.
“What’s your name?” Harry asked, keeping his voice even as the guy’s breathing hitched.
“I was dead. I was dead and…” The guy froze and moved, swaying and looking down at himself, before looking at Harry with red eyes.
“What did you do to me? I was blind.”
Harry sucked in a breath, hearing the desperation in the man’s voice. He took a tentative step towards him only to stop when the guy tensed up, his shoulder muscles curling inward.
Harry inhaled sharply again and then glanced over to where he had put the weapon pouches that he had found in the ruins. He held out a hand and summoned one of the knives to him, hefting the knife lightly. The guy before him tensed and Harry could see him look to where Sasuke was still sleeping, see him look over the teen in the corner of his eyes.
“You started to heal when I arrived,” Harry offered, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “I helped you heal of course but I…”
He sliced open a bit of skin on his other arm, feeling the pain sting and flare. Blood spilled out of the cut slowly and he took a step forwards, another step, uncurling his body. Appearing small, unthreatening. He stopped moving when he felt the wound tingle, when he felt and saw the skin stitching itself back together.
“You’re my soulmate and I’m yours,” Harry finished, meeting the man’s red eyes steadily.
The man stopped shock still and stared at him, his eyes still vividly red. His breathing caught in his throat, his fingers twitching, as he rocked back on the heels of his bare feet before he bolted, heading straight out through the tent door.
Harry swore and ran after him, pushing aside the fabric of the tent and keeping his eyes peeled. The guy didn’t get too far off after Harry cast a body bind at the guy’s back, more automatic pilot than anything else. And the instant that the guy dropped, Harry winced, remembering how much damage had been done to the guy’s eyes before he healed him.
He padded over to the guy slowly, his eyes glued to the way that he lay on the ground, on his back, limp, restrained. Harry walked over and sat down by the guy’s head, peering into the guy’s eyes. Some of the guy’s hair had fallen over his face, covering up one eye. The guy’s eyes were still red, still staring at him vividly, breathing frantically through his nose.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk,” Harry offered quietly, reaching out to slowly brush some of the guy’s hair out of his face. His thumb brushed warm skin and a noise left the guy’s throat, something akin to a whine, strangled and quiet.
Harry’s heart rose up into his throat at the sound, at how desperate it sounded. “Come on. I was just about to put some water in for tea and you must be hungry.”
He released the magic binding the guy and watched as he took a deep breath.
“My name’s Harry.”
He stood up and held out a hand, half expecting the guy to not take it. The guy stared up at him, swallowed slowly, before reaching out and taking his hand. Harry hefted him up, his blood thundering in his ears. The man was a little wobbly for half a second before catching his balance, his hair falling across his face.
Once the guy was standing up, their eyes met and Harry arched an eyebrow, hesitant, curious.
“Itachi.”
“Nice to meet you,” Harry whispered, jerking a thumb back to the tent. “If you can wait out here, I’ll bring tea outside.”
“My brother… Sasuke… is he alright?” Itachi questioned quietly, his gaze going to the tent behind them, as if he could see through the tent walls right to where his brother lay sleeping. Those red eyes melted away, faded, back to black and Harry blinked at the sight.
“He had numerous broken bones, a concussion and-- Your brother?” Harry echoed, pausing at Itachi’s words. “You were fighting your brother?”
Itachi swiveled around on his feet, turning away from his question. “You are my soulmate. I… do not wish to scare you off.”
“It’s gonna take a whole fucking army to scare me off,” Harry said, shrugging when Itachi turned to glance at him. “Besides, you’re gorgeous.”
The flush that erupted over Itachi’s face was cute and the confused expression on his face was even more so.
“And apparently you’re like a powerhouse on legs too,” Harry continued, taking a step towards the man. His soulmate. Itachi.
Itachi visibly swallowed, swaying a little bit towards him. “You are not a civilian but you are not a shinobi. What are you?”
“I’m a wizard. I’m… I suppose you could call me a powerhouse on legs as well,” Harry offered, shrugging and running a hand through his hair, his chest tightening at the look that Itachi gave him. It was apprehension and understanding and anxiety all wrapped up into one look. “Sasuke should still sleep for a few more hours. I treated his wounds and yours too. That took a day.”
“How long was I asleep?” Itachi asked, his voice low and steady and not revealing anything.
“Three days.”
Itachi’s eyes widened at the answer. “Three days?”
“There have been quite a few people who’ve tried to come onto the land I warded,” Harry said, as he headed back into the tent. He heard Itachi’s soft footsteps follow him and the vice around his heart eased up a little bit. Itachi wasn’t just bolting off again. “But no one’s getting through my wards. There could be a dragon in here and no one would be able to see it or hear it.”
“A dragon.”
“Hmm. Yeah. You must have really needed the sleep. I gave you enough dreamless sleep for eight hours, after I healed you anyway.”
Harry stopped in the small tent kitchen and poured some water into a kettle before putting it on the stove. He turned on the burner and swiveled around, to watch as Itachi walked over to stand before his brother’s bed. Itachi’s shoulders curled inward and the muscles on his back tensed, his breath hitching.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened between you two,” Harry said, keeping his voice quiet to not spook Itachi. “I want to get to know you though. How old were you when you began to learn how to fight?”
“6. I graduated from the Academy when I was 7.”
Harry sucked in a breath, his eyes going soft before he sighed. “Child soldier.”
Itachi turned around at the words, his arms fallen to his sides, as he looked Harry over, eying him slowly. “So were you.”
“Yes. Though I started when I was 11.” Harry spared a glance at Sasuke, his heart skipping several beats. “You saved his life.”
Itachi blinked slowly in surprise. “You can see that?”
“That thing that you took from him… The soul or power or whatever it was… It was clinging onto him like a leech, that much I could tell. It would have overtaken him, regardless of his will power. I’m familiar with the concept. We called it something else in my home world but yeah, I saw that.”
“You don’t have the Sharingan and yet you could see that. How interesting.”
Harry snorted in amusement. “If that’s what you call your red eyes, then no.”
The kettle began to whistle behind him and he turned around to grab a mug. “Tea?”
“No, thank you.”
“You sure?”
Silence echoed behind him for a minute, two, and he turned around, mug of steaming tea in hand. Itachi stood at the doorway, very, very still, his gaze flicking between Sasuke and the door.
“I am not sure how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Talk to him.”
Harry lifted an eyebrow before walking over to stand next to Itachi. “Do you love him?”
“Yes. With all my heart. I will always love him.” Harry had no doubt as to whether Itachi was speaking the truth; the look in his eyes told him that much.
“Then tell him that. Whatever it is you need to tell him, tell him that first.”
Harry reached out to curl his fingers into Itachi’s and led him over to one of the chairs in the center of the tent. A spark of energy leapt from Itachi’s fingers to his, making his heart skip a beat, making warmth curl in the pit of his stomach. Itachi let him tug him over to it, let him push gently at his shoulders and let out a soft noise as he finally relaxed down onto the soft cushion. Harry nodded in approval, hovering for a moment.
“I had not… I had not intended on telling him the truth,” Itachi whispered wearily.
“Then stay for me,” Harry offered, meeting the man’s eyes as Itachi peered up at him. “The outside world can wait for a bit.”
Itachi sighed and leaned back into the chair. Harry slowly reached out with his left hand, the one not holding the mug of tea, and ran his fingers through Itachi’s dark hair gently. Smoothing over tangles, letting the soft curls twine around his fingers. The sound that left Itachi’s throat was nothing other than contentment, a soft noise that almost sounded like a whine.
He let his fingers trail through Itachi’s hair for another few minutes, seeing the man’s eyes flutter closed, before brushing his thumb down. Letting his fingers cup his cheek. Itachi leaned into his palm after a minute of hesitation, his eyes closed, vulnerable. The sight of him took Harry’s breath away, making him forget to breathe for several seconds.
He had found his soulmate. That was enough for now.