Go through the journey of a young boy named Y/N Mavros, who is the product of two worlds that have fated him to fight for the survival of the magical world.
DISCLAIMER: RATED M FOR MATURE
All rights go to J.K Rowling. I obviously don't own any of t...
As the car trundles above the clouds at night, Y/N, who is sitting in the back with Ron and Harry, decides to take a quick nap (Lord knows he needs it)
Ron decides to get mischievous and attempts to give Y/N a wet willy—but one strong glare from Harry deters him from continuing on.
"What?" He whispers harshly, "It'll be funny."
"Yeah, for like a split second before he goes all "Hercules" and rips us apart for disturbing him."
Not believing Harry, Ron simply laughs it off. "Yeah, right. It'll just be a harmless prank. He wouldn't harm a fly."
Harry simply shrugs as he looks out the window. "Alright. Suite yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Ron rubs his hands together before wetting one of his fingers. He slowly moves it towards Y/N's ear before stopping.
He remembers when Y/N took out Crabbe and Goyle last year on the field. Or when he saw Y/N's eyes go completely dark whenever he got upset. But what REALLY freaked him out was when he saw Y/N rip apart Devil's Snare like gummy worms.
"Maybe I should leave him alone."
_________
Inside Y/N's head, voices continually pass by—causing him to have trouble pinpointing who or what is talking. It sounds like the voice of a small child, almost around his age.
"Father? Why did you leave your home and come here? Does it have to do with the other gods there?"
The same voice asks a different question, this time sounding as if he is surrounded by water.
"That's right. I never knew you listened when Mother spoke of the gods. There were seven at first right? I can't seem to remember their names...Their father swallowed them while, expect for the youngest one right?"
A deeper voice cuts in like a knife, showing an edge of authority and promise. "If I can't harm him myself, my heir will do the job for me. I will have my revenge in any shape I can."
In a quick succession of thunder flashes, Y/N can just barely make out a face looking at him. He has green eyes, a scar through his left eye, a bow around his shoulder and a Mohawk.
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"Y/N? Come on, we're here." Harry whispers as he shakes Y/N's shoulder. The young boy wipes the saliva off his lips as he comes into consciousness.
