Morsmordre
"No one could blame you, for walking away,
too much rejection, no love injection.
Life can't be easy, it's not always swell.
Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl,
'cause it hurts like hell.
But, down in the Underground,
you'll find someone true…"
The sky was thick with clouds filled of rain. The air calm and smooth, that special atmosphere before a spectacular storm. A small park was empty, save for a young man dressed in robes reciting lines from a book. The boy was so lost in his imagination he didn't notice a snowy white owl land on a nearby statue. Dramatically re-enacting a scene with his dog, who sat on a stone bench looking bored, he reached the climactic part of the story.
"You're the one who is weak. You will never know love or friendship... love or friendship…" The boy sighed, failing to recall the lines. "Damn. Can never remember that last…"
He pulled a book from his robes. Flipping through the pages he searched for the correct quote. A few pages in he found the part he was looking for. Face set, jade eyes bright, he read aloud.
"You will never know love or friendship, and I feel sorry for you," he smiled down at the book. Lost again in its wondrous pages.
Before he could recite the scene again however, a clock chimed. He looked incredulously towards the large tower, adjusting his glasses. He was late again.
"I don't believe it, it's 7 o'clock! Come on, Sirius!"
A large black dog bound after the boy as he ran from the park. The owl watched them leave. Thunder rumbled ominously in the clouds above. As suddenly as if a switch was flipped water poured from the skies, soaking the young man and his dog. They ran faster, the owl followed overhead. Cutting through streets and backyards racing towards home. Fighting against the storm, his drenched cloak weighing him down. Breaking through some trees, he could see Privet Drive now. He slowed to a jog as the house came into view. His uncle was waiting impatiently on the front porch.
"Oh, it's not fair!" The young man shouted, exasperated. He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. He pushed wet hair out of his eyes as he looked up at the large man before him.
"Oh really?" His uncle drawled, glaring down at him.
"I'm sorry!"
"Well don't just stand there, come on."
The young man glared at his shoes as he started for the stairs, calling Sirius to follow. He only made it half a step before his uncle's eyes got wide and his face flushed with rage.
"NOT THE DOG!" His uncle boomed.
"But it's pouring!"
"Go on, into the garage, go," his uncle shooed the dog away.
Sirius dejectedly made his way towards the garage. Shaking his fur out as he went. The young man pushed passed his annoyed uncle, making his way into the posh house. The large man was on his heels as he entered. Face red, eyes hard.
"Harry," His uncle was livid. "You're an hour late-"
"I said I was sorry!" Harry cut in.
The large man pulled at his mustache, something he did when he was greatly irritated. His mustache had bald patches.
"LET ME FINISH, BOY!" He was seething. Harry shut his mouth glaring at his shoes again. His uncle waited for him to say anything. He did not.
"Now, your aunt and I go out very rarely-"
"You go out every single weekend!"
"And we expect you to babysit Dudley only if it won't interfere with your plans," Harry's uncle smiled smugly at him, his plump face insinuating that he thought this was quite generous. It was not. Harry had no choice.
"How would know my plans anyway? You never even ask!" Harry knew arguing would get him nowhere, he didn't care.
His uncle expected him to look after Dudley whether he had prior engagements or not. His concerns for Harry's plans was a farce. He was never considerate of Harry though the way he talked, you'd think he always checked in to see what Harry was up to.
"I'd assume you'd tell me if you had plans and rearrange them accordingly," his uncle sneered. "You should have plans, a boy your age should be out more. Not stuck in books!"
Harry stood in the entry hall, flabbergasted. His uncle never told him to go out. He once told Harry that he was too strange to go out and make friends. In fact, he often scolded Harry for being outside too much. Telling Harry he would disturb the neighbors with his peculiarity. That it was unbecoming for a boy his age to be out and about, that he should be home taking care of the house. Harry seethed.
"I can't do anything right, can I?" Harry spat. He turned and stormed up the stairs, seeking the comfort of his room. His aunt was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
"Ah, Harry, you are home. We were worried," his aunt said, not sounding worried at all.
Harry just brushed passed her and continued to his room, where he promptly slammed the door and fumed. The sound of the slamming door made Dudley scream loudly. His aunt hushed Dudley as she stepped down the stairs. The red-faced man waited for his wife to quiet the baby. Dudley continued to cry.
"That boy treats me like a wicked monster in one of his fairy tales no matter what I say! I'm at my wits end, Petunia," he was infuriated.
"I'll go and talk to him, Vernon," Petunia passed the crying baby to Vernon, whose face screwed up in disgust. He awkwardly patted Dudley's back in an attempt to console him.
Petunia made her way back up the stairs towards Harry's room, she tried the knob but the door was locked. Sighing, she collected herself before knocking. She never really enjoyed talking to Harry, the boy was too… different. They never connected and they never would. He was always shut up in his room acting out scenes from books and movies, by himself. In fact, she could hear the boy doing that exact thing right now. He sounded as if he could be having a real conversation, instead of reading aloud from a book. He just wasn't normal. Petunia sighed again, just for good measure, and knocked on the door.
"Go away," Harry mumbled, annoyed.
"Harry, can I talk to you?"
"There's nothing to talk about!" He wished to be left alone, to fall into the world of fantasy. Dreaming up a better life. Where he had friends and family. He could hear his aunt sigh from the other side of the door.
"Listen, I've fed Dudley and Vernon will put him to bed. He should be fine until we get back. Do not leave the house. We'll be going now," Petunia explained curtly.
Harry turned towards the door, "You really wanted to talk to me, didn't you? Practically broke down the door!" He scathed.
Aunt Petunia didn't respond. Harry could hear her heels clacking as she went down the stairs. Shortly after he heard the front door open and close. His aunt and uncle had gone. Harry was miserable, he flung himself down onto his bed and curled into a ball. He hated it here, no one treated him with respect and expected him to do everything. It's just not fair! He thought. Harry shifted onto his back and took in his room. Walls were covered with posters of fantastical movies, pictures of his mother and father, and shelves piled with books upon books. A tiny smile spread across his face as he regarded the titles. Alice in Wonderland, Grimm's Fairytales, Tales of Beetle the Bard… every possible fantasy book was there. He looked towards the wall above his bed, where he kept his favorite paraphernalia from the books and movies he loved. There were wands and swords, and small plush goblins and pegasi, a fluffy puffskein. Just then he noticed something was missing, a plush elf. Harry stood up abruptly, furious.
"Dobby!" Harry cried. "Someone's been in my room again! I hate that! I hate it!"
Harry rushed towards the door and flung it open. Marching down the hall to his aunt and uncle's room where Dudley was supposed to be sleeping. He wasn't sleeping however, he was screaming bloody murder. Harry spotted his precious elf, Dobby, thrown haphazardly across the floor. He seethed.
"I hate you… I HATE YOU!" Harry shouted as he ran to the fallen plush, he scooped it up and held it to his chest. "Someone take me away from this horrid place!" He cried.
Thunder outside rumbled loudly. Dudley continued to cry. He stared at Harry, despair in his innocent teary eyes. Harry glared back, silently accusing Dudley for all his problems. He would make himself sick if he continued to cry like this. Harry rubbed his temples, he was going to be blamed if Dudley got sick.
"What do you want?" He mocked the baby. "You want a story?" Dudley cried louder in response.
"Fine," Harry gritted. He schooled himself to tell one of his favorite stories, he made minor changes to insert himself into the story.
"Once upon a time there was a talented young man whose family always made him stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, who only wanted everything for himself. The young man was practically their servant. But what no one knew… was that the Lord of the goblins had fallen in love with the boy, and he had given the boy special powers. So one night, when the baby had been particularly cruel to the boy, he called upon the goblins for help."
Thunder crackled from outside, lightning flooded the room with white light. Dudley cried louder, drool and mucus coating his face. From somewhere unknown, goblins awoke at Harry's words. They listened. Harry felt a warm rush of power run through him. He felt empowered to tell his melodramatic story. He felt he had an audience. Harry continued his story.
"'Say your right words,' the goblins said. And we'll take the baby away and you will be free."
From that same unknown place, the goblins gasped. They were prepared to grant the boys wish, so long as he said the word. They would do anything to please their Lord, and pleasing their Lord meant pleasing the boy, if he asked. Harry's story went on, he was completely ignoring Dudley now. Lost in his imagination, empowered by some unseen force.
"But the boy knew, that the Lord of the goblins would keep the baby, in his castle forever and ever and ever and turn it into a goblin," Harry turned towards the child's crib, his eyes gleaming. He walked towards it.
"And so the boy suffered in silence. Until one night, the boy tired from a day of housework, and hurt from the cruel words of his aunt and uncle, he could no longer stand it."
Harry had kneeled by the crib at this point. Dudley was still screaming, reaching for Harry, wishing for comfort. Harry couldn't take the crying anymore. He ceased his tale and hoisted Dudley from the crib. Crying and gurgling he clung to Harry. Harry bounced him on his hip, trying to shush the baby.
"Oh, alright already!" Harry sighed. Dudley cried.
"Come on, knock it off!" Harry was becoming increasingly annoyed. It's just not fair! Dudley hiccuped and rubbed his eyes, continuing to scream.
"Stop it, stop it!" He pleaded. Dudley wouldn't stop. "I'll say the words!" Harry threatened, emptily.
From far away, the goblins listened carefully, hopeful the boy would say the word. They waited with bated breath.
"Is he going to say it?" One of the goblins hissed.
"Say what?" Another one asked loudly. He was promptly shushed by the others.
"Listen," The first goblin began. "He's going to say the word!"
Excitedly, the goblins went back to listening. Eyes shining, hearts pounding, they waited. Harry began an air of desperation about him.
"Voldemort!" He called, lifting Dudley above him. "Voldemort, wherever you might be, take this child far away from me!"
Thunder rumbled, Dudley cried. Harry waited expectantly. Nothing happened.
The goblins sighed and grumbled, deeply disappointed. One went back to sleep, unimpressed.
"What is with all that rubbish?" A goblin complained.
"That's not ever how it starts!" Another chimed in.
They yet again, went back to listening, none hopeful. Thunder shook Harry's home, Dudley screamed.
"Oh Dudley, stop it!" Harry cried, exasperated.
He brought the baby to his chest and tried rocking him. He rubbed Dudley's back, Dudley continued to cry. Harry realized trying to get Dudley to shush was a waste of time. He'll cry himself to sleep eventually. He reasoned. Harry sat Dudley down in the crib and covered him with blankets. Moodily he began to leave the room. As he turned off the light and went to close the door. He stopped and turned towards the screaming baby. He stared the blanket-clad form down.
"I wish I did know the right words," Harry proclaimed.
The goblins, losing their patience complained, to one another.
"Honestly, how can one be so daft!" The first goblin exclaimed.
"How hard could it be to say 'Morsmordre'?" A goblin asked, loudly.
"Did he say it?" The half asleep one questioned.
"Shut up!" Several goblins hissed.
Back in the house, as Harry turned to leave once more, he felt that warm power run through him again. He closed the door as a strange word filled his head. He stood in the hallway, confused, urged by something to say the strange word aloud. Harry's faced screwed up in thought.
"Mors… Morsmordre?" Harry whispered.
Everything went still, silent. The storm no longer pounded against the house. Dudley was no longer crying. Harry turned back towards the door concerned. Dudley never stopped crying so abruptly. Maybe something was wrong? Harry felt strange, unnerved. He slowly turned the knob, opening the door. Careful not to make a sound, he flipped the light switch back on. The room stayed dark. Harry's hair stood on end. The hallway light was on, why wouldn't this light work? It was just on!
"Dudley," he called softly. "D-dudley?" No sound came.
Harry swallowed and slowly walked towards the crib, hesitant. Maybe he should go back to his room and pretend nothing happened… No, clearly something was wrong. He didn't want to be blamed. Steeling himself he called out more firmly. As he did something rustled Dudley's blankets and chortled grotesquely. That wasn't Dudley. Harry's blood ran cold. He forced himself to continue to the crib. He stopped at the side and held his breath as he slowly reached down to pull the covers back. He ripped them off. Nothing was there.
Suddenly the storm started back up, thunder boomed, lightning lit the room. A snowy white owl began desperately pecking at the french doors, trying to get it. Harry gasped, his heart pounded. He spun around. He wasn't alone. There were… things in the room, he could see them moving out of the corners of his eyes. He could hear them giggling and snorting, they made disgusting sounds. Turning this way and that, trying to get a glimpse, he saw them. Moving in the shadows, the corners, behind the dresser, under the bed. They were everywhere. Harry was frightened.
A deafening crash sounded and the french doors burst open. Harry spun around towards the doors just as the owl burst in. His eyes widened and his hands flew up as the owl flew around his head, Harry screamed. Abruptly, the owl stopped its attack and Harry slowly lowered his arms. He looked up. There in the doorway stood a man.
"...It's only forever, not long at all.
Lost and lonely, that's Underground."
AN:
So this Labyrinth AU is a prompt ObsidianPen came up with on Tumblr and it has literally been plaguing my mind ever since. So, I, uh, wrote it? I'm sure someone else will write a Harrymort Labyrinth AU, the post got around. So if you don't like mine there will probably be more. Please check out ObsidianPen, this was her brainchild and she is awesome. Literally, she is the best fanfic writer. Ever. If you like her, she also has a Tumblr where she posts things related to her fics, and she sometimes posts her art, which is amazing.
ANYWAYS
So this is my first time posting any fanfiction, I'm not too sure how this is going to turn out. We shall see. Please be patient with me while I figure things out. Honestly, I doubt anyone is going to read this, though. Lololol If by some miracle someone does read this fic, please feel free to leave any criticism/suggestions/feedback, etc. THANK YOU AND YOU ARE CUTE AND ALSO HI
