Title: The Path
Author: Serpent in the Shadows
Rating: R/M
Pairing: Xander/Harry
Warnings: Slash, language
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or xXx
Summary: There are many paths one must take in life. But when the time comes to choose, will you stay where you are, or will you take a chance on an unknown path in the hopes of finding something more?
Beta: Pysche

AN: Thank you for all the reviews! I hope you keep them coming and let me know what you think!

Chapter 3

Harry stomped his large hoof on the ground, tossing his head up and down as he tried to figure out what he needed to do. He hadn't expected for the muggle to be awake this soon and it wasn't like he could just change from horse to human in front of him. Plus, he couldn't let the man leave. His wounds weren't healed yet and worse still, his memories were intact - those couldn't be erased until those injuries were gone as they would bring about too many questions.

Turning his head to the side, Harry eyed the man that continued to stand in the middle of his doorway, gaping at him. Now that the muggle could stand, Harry finally got a good look at his size and realized that there would be no way he could physically take on this man if he needed to, but then Harry was never one to let something like that stand in his way.

Deciding to use the man's shock against him, Harry took a few steps - his unshod hooves making clunking sounds on the wooden front deck - and stretched his neck out, using his muzzle to push against the man's bare chest. The muggle stumbled back a few steps into the house before he caught himself and straightened up, glaring at Harry in irritation.

"Listen here, you overgrown dog..."

Harry snorted, slightly amused at the muggle's words. Turning his large head slightly to the side - so he could keep the man out of his forward blind spot - Harry impassively gazed at the human's wound, inhaling a bit, noticing the faint smell of fresh blood that lingered off of him, signaling that the injury had torn a bit with the man's movement.

He needed to figure out a way to get away from the man so he could change back. Harry couldn't let the injury take on an infection as that would delay the healing process which meant he would have to keep him around longer. Shifting his weight on his hooves, Harry contemplated what he needed to do when his ears twitched at the muggle's voice.

"Ok, the remote cabin I get. The no visible weapons lying around, I get. The lack of any other people I can also get, but what the hell does a fuckin horse have to do with anything?"

If Harry had eyebrows in this form, they would have been raised high.

"The bullet wound was a nice touch," the man said, as he glanced around the room - mainly in the corners. "Though the darts were a lot less painful!" The muggle's deep voice steadily rose higher, bordering on yelling. "Future reference Scarface!"

The last word came out loud with an angry tone that had Harry's horsey self jerking back at the noise. Once he got his skittish half under control, he had to wonder if he had taken in an escaped mental patient since the man was now glaring and swearing at his walls.

Shaking his head and stomping his front left hoof, Harry cautiously backed himself out of the doorway til he was clear. Then using his mouth, he reached out and grabbed a hold of the handle while the man was still busy looking suspiciously in the corners of his ceiling, and pulled to door closed. Using a bit of wandless magic - something that he had to train himself to do while in his animagus form - Harry cast a locking spell to keep the stranger in.

Once that was done and he was off the porch, Harry turn and ran into the woods, making sure he was far enough away from prying eyes before he allowed himself to turn human again.

oOOoOOoOOoOOoOOo

Xander turned and glared at the now closed door with narrowed eyes. The sound of it shutting had effectively pulled him out of his 'hidden camera inspecting' to find that the black horse was gone and somehow it had closed him in. He wasn't sure how or why it did that, horses - as far as he knew - didn't do things like closing doors.

Ignoring the ideas of a smart four-legged beast that wasn't a canine, Xander stalked over to the door, grabbed a hold of the handle, smirking when it turned and gave it a yank - only to stumble back when it refused to budge and his hand slipped off in surprise.

Xander stared dumbly at the door for several more seconds before he tried the handle again, only to get the same results. Stepping back, he eyed the frame, looking for any weird, new science geek stuff that one of the nerdier employees might have used to keep it from opening. But, the more he looked, he began to realize that there was no way that black horse could have made it through like it did. The frame was just too small.

So, how did it get in?

Shaking his head and shrugging his good shoulder, Xander turned around and glanced towards the window on the opposite side of the room. The door matter could wait til he was free of this place. Striding over to the bare window, he studied it for a moment, seeing no visible latches and then began pushing in an upward angle against the windowsill.

He cursed when it refused to budge, and narrowed his eyes as he stepped back. Again, he couldn't find any obvious signs of being nailed shut or even locked, yet, it wouldn't move. Growling, Xander turned away from the pain-in-the-ass window and looked around the room again.

With a smirk, he strolled over to the desk and picked up with the plain straight-backed wooden chair before heading back to the window. If he couldn't just simply open it, he would smash it, and since he didn't want any scars to mar up his tattoos, he would use the chair it do it.

Lining himself up, he lifted the chair, hissing when the wound on his shoulder stretched and tore, and he made a move to send the object through the window.

"That won't work."

Xander spun around, still holding the chair above his head. Breathing deeply, he narrowed his eyes at the young man who was standing in the now open doorway.

"Who are you?" Xander asked, lowering the chair slightly, but not letting it go - it was the only weapon he had at the moment.

"Me?" the stranger asked as he stepped further inside and closed the door behind him. Now that he wasn't standing in the path of the sun, Xander could make out that the male was shorter than him, but built in a way that suited him. Long black hair rested on white t-shirt covered shoulders that were untucked in the jeans he wore. While Xander's eyes were trailing over the body, looking for any visible weapons, the stranger's green eyes were solely fixed on Xander's injured shoulder.

"Yes, you." Xander's grip tightened on the chair.

"Ah, well then, I'm the one that owns this house, the window, that chair," the man took a few more steps, "and, I'm the one that shot you."