Story: |
"YOU STUPID BOY!" shouted Harry's Uncle Vernon, "Went and got yourself a murderer for a godfather, oh, that was all right, but now you've brought your parent's murderer on us! You ungrateful freak! Threatening my wife and child! I should have had you kicked out of here a long time ago!"
Kicks to Harry's stomach and blows to his nephew's malnourished frame punctuated his entire rant. Harry made no move to stop them, which would just make Vernon angrier, but he also refused to scream.
"WELL? What have you to say for yourself?" Vernon shouted once more, hauling Harry to his feet.
Harry said nothing.
"Nothing? NOTHING?! You unbearable git!" the fat man roared, throwing his nephew back, onto a vase that smashed as the boy landed on it.
Harry's head hit the wall hard enough to make him see stars and the pieces of ceramic tore hungrily into his skin. Newly healed cuts reopened, causing him to wince, and blackness was tugging at the edges of his blurred vision; his glasses had been lost somewhere in the beating. He heard the familiar sound of a fire roaring up with the use of Floo powder; apparently one of the twins had decided to visit him.
"Harry, old boy!" said Fred's cheerful voice, "Simply splendid - OH MY GOD! What have you done to him, you great old goat?!"
Harry would have laughed if not for the feeling of elephants dancing in his head on pogo sticks.
"'Lo, Fred," he grinned weakly.
Then he passed out.
* * *
He awoke to find himself in the Burrow. He was sitting on a comfortable bed, Fred's or George's by the look of the room, and his glasses were on the small table next to him. He sat up, put them on, and proceeded to look around, waiting for one of the twins or perhaps Mrs. Weasley to come in and ask him how he was doing. Sure enough, the twins walked in a moment later, one leaning against the door, the other murmuring to him. Harry grinned and waved at them, then frowned when they didn't wave back. He stood and walked over to them, but got a nasty shock when they walked right past him without so much as a 'hello'.
"Harry . " Fred's voice murmured to the bed he sat on.
"Uh, Fred?" Harry asked, confused, "I'm back here."
"Harry, come on! You've got to wake up!" Fred insisted.
"But I am! Guys, I'm right here!" Harry shot back.
He sighed and sat down on the other bed, looking at what he assumed was George's back. Then he chuckled to himself bitterly. Four years, nearly five, and he still couldn't tell which was which twin by looking. He had to hear their voices for that.
"Really Fred, you're being stupid," he informed the twins.
"Look, Harry," George started, "Would it help if I said 'I love you'? Come on you stupid bugger! Wake up! This is no time to play dead!"
"You too, George?" Harry asked, shaking his head.
"Really Harry. You're starting to make us worry. Come on, old boy, I know you're not dead so just wake up."
There was silence for a while before Fred looked helplessly at his twin. George shared the look and shook his head.
"Mum and Dad won't be back for another week. Percy hasn't responded to my owl, I suspect he's swamped with work. Good job Ginny's at her friends."
"Yeah . "
"Buck up, Fred. He's pulled himself out of worse than this," George said confidently, "He won't die. He won't."
Harry groaned and shook his head. "You're both nutters. I don't even know why you bothered bringing me here. I'm not dead, though at this point I wouldn't mind it in the least."
"You don't mean that."
Harry whipped around to the face the owner of the voice, vaguely noticing the Burrow disappear around him.
"Mum? Dad?" he whispered.
Standing in front of him were his parents. Parents he had not known, parents who had been murdered when he was a baby. Lily and James Potter smiled lovingly down at their only son.
"What . what are you doing here?" Harry asked in shock.
Lily floated near him and wrapped him in a hug. A hug he could feel.
"Am I dead, then? Is that what they're going on about?"
"No, son," James said, shaking his head, "This is where you must choose your fate. You can either fight for life, or sink away in death."
Harry looked down at his feet, digesting this information. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked up into his father's eyes.
"We're here to help you choose, Harry. Your mother and I have discussed this, and we're here to help you choose life."
"But . "
"Harry, we love you. Never forget that. But as much as we would love to have you with us again, there will be time enough for that later. There are those who need you more than we do." Lily said.
Harry looked his mother, "Name one."
"I can name two," she smiled. And pointed.
Fred and George appeared, both crouched over the bed, but now Harry could see exactly what was on there. Or, more precisely, who. His body lay there, still, looking very much like he was asleep. From the shaking of the twins' shoulders, Harry thought they might be laughing, but then George lifted his face to look at Fred. They were crying.
"Yes," James said, "They're crying for you. We've been watching them watch you ever since you joined the House Quidditch team. Before I forget, I should mention that I'm proud of you, son," he winked, "Never missed a match."
"James," Lily scolded gently, smiling, then she picked up for him, "Those two have watched you fall off your broom so many times and seen you nearly dead so many times that they soon became very protective of you. It was only a matter of time before those protective feelings grew into love."
Harry looked up at his mother, shocked out of words. He'd known he fancied boys over girls for a while, but he had no idea the twins could possibly feel the same way. James took his hesitation the wrong way and raised Harry's chin so he could look into his son's eyes.
"Harry, I know you feel the same way about them. Look, we love you, remember that. But we're dead. They love you, and they're alive."
"James!" Lily said, scandalized, "Don't frighten him like that!"
"Sorry."
Harry grinned at his abashed looking father before running to tackle him in a hug, which was promptly returned.
"I love you, Mum, Dad." he choked through tears, "So I'll go back for you. For them. And besides, I promised Hagrid I'd visit him and Fang."
Lily swept her son into another hug, something she couldn't seem to get enough of. James joined in this time, and when they released him, all three were crying to some degree. Lily reached into her robes and pulled out a beautifully carved silver ring.
"Petunia always wanted this. She tried to steal it on more occasions than I can count. Show it to her, and tell her that if she or Vernon ever touch you again, we'll both come after them."
James sighed.
"And they called me the trouble maker. But, Harry, do remember to tell them," he winked.
Harry grinned widely at his father.
"I will, Dad."
"You've made a wise choice, dear, and we have to go now. But remember, we'll always be watching over you, even if you can't see us." Lily whispered, kissing his cheek and giving him one last hug.
Then she disappeared. James smiled and kissed the top of his son's head.
"We're proud of you, son. We love you."
Harry smiled around tears and nodded. "I know. I love you too."
"No more crying," James said thickly, wiping the tears off Harry's face, "It's not really goodbye, you know."
"I know. I know," Harry said, more to convince himself to stop crying than anything, "I'll miss you. Oh, and I'll send Sirius your love, shall I?"
"Yes, do that," James nodded. He noticed he was beginning to fade out, and so wrapped his arms around Harry one more time, "We love you so much, son, never forget that."
Harry nodded, not moving until he could no longer feel his father's arms around him. Then he turned around, and noticed he was back in the Burrow. Smiling slightly, he glided over to where he body lay, and touched it. A bright light surrounded him, so bright he was sure he'd wake up blind. Then everything was black.
A low moan brought George and Fred's attention to the boy on the bed below them. Fred looked into his mirror's face, surprise showing clearly.
"Was that you?"
"No, I thought it was you," George replied.
Fred's face lit up.
"You don't think . he's . "
"He'd damn well better be. I'm going to get him something to drink, and I don't want to risk trying to summon it. I'll be back in two minutes, okay?"
"Right," Fred nodded, "Do remember to bring back more tissues with the water, will you?"
George smirked at his twin and nodded, reaching out a hand to caress Fred's face. Though they seemed not to care about much more than mischief, they were very attuned to reading into others emotions. They were also very adept at reading between the lines of others sentences. George smiled once before standing from the bed and walking out of the room. Once the door was closed, Fred focused his attention entirely on Harry, as if willing the boy to move. When nothing happened after a minute, he began to think that he and George had just been hearing things, but suddenly Harry's eyes scrunched up as if in pain and he moaned softly.
"Harry? Wake up! Come on, old boy, I know you're not dead now," Fred encouraged, "Come on now. Just open your pretty green eyes, and everything'll be just fine."
Someone up above seemed to be listening, because at that moment, Harry's eyes did indeed open. He blinked, sleepily, and turned his fuzzy vision on Fred.
"Which one are you?" he yawned, "Fred or George?"
"Really, Harry. It's been what, five years?" Fred grinned.
"Sorry, Fred," Harry grinned tiredly, leaving the older boy nearly floored.
"How . how did you know?"
"You've got the deeper voice. . Where are my glasses?"
Fred sighed and brushed some hair out of Harry's eyes. Then, throwing caution to the winds . he tripped. And landed conveniently on top of the boy beneath him, causing most of the air to be knocked out of Harry's body. Then Fred grabbed Harry into a huge hug, willing himself not to cry, but unable to stop the slow rocking motions he made.
"My god, Harry, you have no idea what it was like. I mean, I'd just stopped in to see how you were and there you were, bleedin' all over, and your uncle was there and then you just fell down and didn't move. Then I brought you here and you wouldn't wake up and for a while me 'n' George thought you were dead and . " he stopped, pulled back, and slapped Harry upside the head.
"Ow!" Harry yelped, "What was that for?"
"Don't you ever make me worry about you like that again, you understand?" Fred asked, sternly, pointing his index finger just under Harry's nose.
Gulping slightly, Harry nodded, and Fred just as quickly switched moods and hugged him. This time Harry returned it . only to be disrupted by someone making fake sniffling noises.
"Awww . " said George's voice, "It's so sweet."
"Shut up, George," Fred said, playfully swatting in his twin's general direction, "And give the Boy Who Lived Again a hug. You know you want to."
There was a long, suffering sigh, before Harry felt Fred stand and George replace him. This time they nearly fell off the bed, seeing as George was coming at him at with a flying leap. Harry could hear Fred chuckling behind them as he fought to keep balance while a babbling George went on about 'giving him a heart attack at a young age' and 'the next time you do something stupid like that I'm going to have your head for it, so help me God!'.
"I'm sorry," Harry said lowly, "I didn't mean for Uncle Vernon to come after me like that. I certainly didn't want to give you a heart attack, either. . I just . I just can't control myself properly, and the Dursley's don't like magic and all that."
George sighed; somehow he'd known that Harry would blame himself for what his uncle had done to him. It was just the boy's nature to do that, though often it was never his fault. He tilted Harry's face so that he was looking into the other boy's eyes, eyes that never ceased to amaze him.
"It wasn't your fault, you know," he assured the green-eyed wonder.
Fred agreed with his twin readily, sitting down on Harry's other side. A part of him though that maybe they were crowding the younger boy, but another part said that Harry didn't seem uncomfortable; they weren't doing anything wrong. He listened to the second part.
"Yes," he nodded, "Just because that bastard for an uncle you have is such a . well, bastard, it doesn't mean that you should be the one to suffer for it. And besides, I praise you for keeping your sanity around those relatives of yours. I know I'd never be able to do it."
Nor would I. It must take some real courage to put up with them everyday," George added, "I don't think just anybody could do it, but then again, you're not just anybody, are you?"
"Of course not, George. He's The Boy Who Lived," Fred grinned, "And such a handsome boy to have lived, isn't he?"
"Oh yes."
The twins laughed. Harry chuckled along with them, thinking of his parents and how they had been right. He really did have someone to live for. Two people, for that matter, and he could not imagine ever leaving them.
"Thank you," he whispered, "You don't know how much this really means to me, do you? I've never had anybody to care about what happened to me, not until I met your family."
Fred and George sobered rather quickly, looking down at him with curious expressions that he couldn't place with an emotion. They looked at each other and held a silent conversation in the language known only to twins. Harry was left completely clueless until finally they seemed to come to a decision and both looked back down at him.
"Harry . " Fred started, "There's something we should probably tell you, and we don't know how you're going to take it but . here goes nothing."
George took a deep breath and started to speak, but found he couldn't help himself from getting toung tied.
Perhaps it isn't as easy to tell someone you're in love with them as I thought, he mused. "Well, you know how . no, you probably don't . oh, go on Fred, you're the eloquent one of us."
Fred gave his twin a look that suggested the other might as well be telling him that Snape liked to wear Muggle women's dresses and go to tea parties with Petunia Dursley. Harry giggled at that thought, which earned him curious glances from the twins, but he shook his head.
"So?" he asked instead, "What do you have to tell me?" Of course, he thought, I've a fairly good idea of what it is . Mum . please don't be wrong.
George and Fred looked at each other again and this time Fred took the initiative to talk.
"Harry . you see . well we . " He gave up and looked at George, "This just isn't working."
"No it's not."
"Reckon we'll have to show him?"
"I do."
"Harry," Fred said slowly, "I really hope you don't hate us for this."
Harry gave the twins a confused look.
"Why would I possibly hate you?"
They gave him no answer. Not a verbal one, at any rate. Instead, George leaned down swiftly and the next Harry knew he felt the older boy's lips on his.
Not that I'm complaining . well, Mum, I guess you were right . he thought absently, and focused on returning the kiss.
After a sweet eternity, although it was only a few minutes, George pulled and allowed Fred to take his place kissing Harry. Once again, Harry readily accepted and returned the kiss, leaving the older boy rather flustered when he pulled away.
"When did you learn to kiss like that?" Fred demanded.
Harry grinned, "Well, it's not like Ron and I that innocent, you know. The night of the Yule Ball last year, we didn't exactly enjoy our dates and decided that there was no way we were going to head into our fifth year having never once kissed someone . so, you know, we . well . "
He trailed off, blushing, and the twins burst out laughing.
"You mean," George gasped between laughs, "That our . little brother . taught you . to kiss."
"Well, I also taught him," Harry defended himself, blushing hotter.
The twins laughed a bit more, then sobered just long enough to joke a little more.
"Well, we'll have to make sure Ron doesn't get in the way, won't we?"
"I agree, Fred. What a disappointment this'll be for Ron, won't it?"
"Yes. We always do get to what he wants first, don't we?"
Then they nearly fell over laughing. Watching them, Harry felt contented, something that was not an overly common feeling to him. They were beautiful when they laughed, he decided, more so than they were regularly. The laughing subsided suddenly and both twins turned on Harry with twin feral smiles gracing their identical faces. He gulped.
"Uh . I'm not sure I like those looks your giving me . "
"That's besides the point, my dear boy," George grinned, "Because you're going to love what we do to you."
Oh my . did he just . yes he did . but .
Harry found himself unable to force his thoughts into any coherent pattern, and wasn't quite sure he wanted to at this point. As Ron had said, thinking too much would eventually get him into trouble, especially in a situation like this.
But, honestly, am I ready for this? . I still can't get Cedric's death out of my head . maybe it's too soon .
He found that he needn't have worried about anything, though, when the twins took his silence the right way.
"Harry? Are you okay?" Fred asked cautiously, "George was only joking, you know. We aren't going to try any of that so soon, we know you're probably still worried about You-Know-Who and Cedric and all that and . "
"Fred," Harry interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up. You're babbling."
"Oh," Fred grinned sheepishly, "Sorry, it's a bad habbit. George and I developed it a while back. Only happens when something happens to people we care about."
Harry grinned. Fred had just given him the perfect opportunity to wheedle three little words out of the twins. Three words he desperately needed to hear, words he had never heard enough, words he was sure he would never tire of hearing.
"Oh? Are you saying you care about me?" he asked, hoping to sound jokingly causal.
Fred and George took the bait, both turning on him.
"Are you daft?" George asked, "Of course we care about you? Why d'you think Fred was dropping by your house in the first place? We wanted to make sure you were holding up all right."
"Really," Fred continued, "For someone who's supposed to be famous, you're quite stupid. We love you, you idiot."
Harry looked up at Fred sharply, causing the older boy to clap his hands over his mouth.
"Repeat that?" he demanded.
"We. Love. You." George said, slowly and clearly.
Harry thought that he looked rather cute when he was flustered. Now that he thought about it, both twins looked cute, but then, they were mirror images of each other.
"Though it would be wonderful if you returned those feelings," George continued, "We are perfectly willing to accept it if you don't."
"George," Harry tried, but George wasn't listening.
"I hope you don't hate us, even if the feelings aren't mutual, we can still be friends, right?"
"Fred - "
Once again, he was unsuccessful.
"And Ron . you won't avoid him, will you? Because he'd be really hurt and -- "
"George!" Harry finally yelled, "Fred!"
"Yeah?" they chorused.
"You're babbling, and you're not letting me talk."
"Oh . sorry."
Harry smiled, nodded, and settled back against the pillows. "That's better. Now . no, I don't hate you, no, I'm not going to avoid Ron because of this, and yes, we can still be friends. As a matter of fact, I'd prefer to be more than friends." He trailed off shyly.
The twins stared.
"Did you just say . more? .You mean . " Fred asked.
"Did I or did I not kiss back, hmm? I love you, too. Both of you." Harry mumbled.
George gave a loud whoop and dived on top of Harry, Fred diving on both of them. Harry fought to return the hug and breathe at the same time. So this was what it felt like to be loved . it was a different feeling than his parents' love, it felt more like . like he was coming home.
Yeah, he thought, I'm home, that's what it is, I'm home. |