August 1, 1995
Harry Potter was not a normal boy. Every one that had at some point in time interacted in any way with him, knew that. It wasn't his appearance that caused the whispers, nor was it his family. For you see, Harry Potter was at one point an all around good boy. His Parents, Lily and James Potter, were well known throughout the community. Lily was often found entertaining guest in there sea side home, While James took up golfing with the Mayor. Although Harry was there only son, The Potters were known to take in Cousins and other nick-knack children. So as you can see, Harry, Turning out the way he did was very unexpected.
The Potters had tried to figure out what it was that tormented their son. They had tried but eventually bent to the inability to communicate to him, so now, Harry visited a psychologist twice a week.
Dinner was always served at six fifteen sharp every night. Every occupant of the house was always expected to show up…
Lily Potter spooned out Macaroni and cheese, and deposited Hot Dogs onto the plates.
"Dinners Ready!" Her high voice screeched out to the walls. Thunderous footsteps rang from throughout the household. People began to gather at the five chairs. All the chairs were filled but one. Lily, James, Oliver, and Dean all were eating dinner, When Harry sank into his chair. The chatter amongst him continued as he moved his food around the plate.
"Harry dear, Stop playing with your food." Lily reprimanded softly. Oliver snickered at him over his drink.
Harry had never gotten along particularly well with Oliver. His psychologist blamed it on her belief is that Oliver represented everything Harry would have been, had he not had his "issues".
"Oliver, stop your laughing and shut up." Harry sneered.
"Is that the best you can do?" He provoked. Taking a sip of water.
"Fuck off arse hole."
"C'mon Harry. We all Know what that imagination of yours comes up with…So put it to good use and come up with better insults. Fucking skitzo."
"Oliver!" James shouted indignant.
"Its true! He's a fucking loony! Have you seen what he drew for that blasted art fair?" He asked pointed at Harry's empty chair. A silence settled over, only filled by deans curious, "Where'd Harry go?"
-
August 2, 1995
The night had risen in darkness and fallen and light. Harry's sneakers never met the threshold of the door. He awoke surround by the smell of pollen and birds tweeting in his ears. He was laying in Cedric Field, and had no memory of how he got there. From what he could gather from instincts, it was about ten or eleven in the morning.
Like a zombie he began his walk back to his house. When he arrived, he was hardly surprised to find it was completely empty.
"August 2, 1995"
Harry lay on his back, arms spread out, and eyes unfocused. He wasn't conscience of anything around him.
Lily stood in the door frame, gazing at her sons prone unmoving figure. She longed to know what haunted her only son, longed so much that she willingly paid any price his therapist sent her way. Willing enough to fight tooth and nail with the school board. Willing enough that she herself had risked her husband and her society status for him.
She was at a loss for his desolate mind. With a soft click of the door, she turned and walked down the hallway and into Dean's guest room. She knocked softly first, then entered. He was sitting on one of the intricate chairs, facing the fireplace. Dean held loosely onto the book he was holding.
"Dean…" She began softly.
"Yes Mrs. Potter?" He asked looking up from his book.
"Harry, he's been, well…a little more off lately then usual…" Lily hated going behind her son's back to find out what was wrong; but
something had to be done.
"Has he said anything to you?" She asked in what would have been a question had the uneasiness edge into her voice
Dean felt sorry for his surrogate mother. He wanted to tell her anything, something…but Harry's trust meant more to him then anything else. Especially with Harry as tippy-top as he was.
"…I, don't know." He finally ground out.
"Go ask Oliver." He said returning to his book. Lily sighed and turned away from the child that knew something. She resented him for keeping secrets that were about her son.
"Thank you." She said as coldly as she could muster. He waved a hand at her and she left. Her soft feet padded down the lusciously red carped hallway.
"Oliver, Oliver where are you?" she called in her walk. Muffled replies from behind the other guest room door answer her question. She entered his room without knocking. Looked over at him wielding something out of wood, and began opened her mouth to speak. She was cut off by Oliver's already pre determined knowledge of the question.
"He's stopped taking the pills." He kept his eyes trained onto the wood and its tool, carving and slicing away at innocently offending piece of wood. His hand swooped down over the block of wood, causing intricate patters of details over it. The wood wielded submissively to him, without question. Lily stood watching him create something beautiful from a boring piece of dull ebony wood. She broke from her daze, nodded her head at him and walked Over to Harry's room.
Lily entered without thinking anything of it. Harry was still in the same position. Only he was conscience of her entrance.
"Hullo Mother." He drawled lazily. She shuddered at his uncaring tone.
"Why Harry James? Why?" Her tone was accusing, and knew that losing her temper wouldn't help, but she couldn't help it anymore. Living with this shell was driving her mad. Where was the boy she loved? Where was her Harry. The boy who loved soccer, never fought with his parents, and got straight a's?
"Why what?"
"Why did you stop taking the medication, Harry." Harry didn't respond, Instead her turned his head to face upward to the ceiling. He had no answer for her.
"Harry, Did you hear me? I want to know."
"Because…"
"Because? Because why?"
"…I can." He smiled an insane smile at her, and turned over to face the window.
"Harold James Potter! Enough of these god damn mind games already! Stop this nonsense at once! You are a young man! Are you listening? Pay attention!" Her screams of frustration were met by deaf ears. She continued raging on and on to him about his behavior.
"Just go." He says to Her. She stairs at him.
"No, I will not 'Just go.' I will stay here until you change your attitude, I will stay here like a mother would and care for her misdirected son! I do not know what your problem have been, however we have tried and tried to get you back to yourself. We are failing, no we are not failing, YOU! You're failing us Harry! You want to be better, yes? I know you do! So please! Stop this nonsense! Go back to your, your Doctor and tell her you've been lying! Harry! Listen to me damnit!" Her rant to him was done. She furiously turned on her Prada Pink-soul 89 pound heels, and stormed down the stairs and into the liquor cabinet.
When she was gone, Harry turned and laid on his stomach, and buried his head into his pillow. He wept for so long, that the sun
set, and he fell asleep.
The house was quiet. Everyone slept in their respectful places. The house was dark. Harry slept dully, he didn't move, he didn't snore, he made absolutely no noise whatsoever.
A voice ran through his mind, Harry…Harry, Wake up Harry…wind brushed up against Harry's ear, Whispers flicked themselves into his mind. Harry sat up calmly in bed. Looking blindly around the room for the offending voice, He reached for his glasses, tucked them onto his nose, and walked calmly out his bedroom door. He followed the smooth voice out the door and down the street.
Before he knew it he was standing in a playground. Glancing around he realized he wasn't alone. Standing not Five feet away from
him was a fairly tall teenager who appeared a year or so older then him.
"Hullo Harry." The Boy leaned his hands into his pockets, and smiled mischievously at Harry.
"Who are you?"
"I'm your fears. I'm your nightmare. I'm a cliché of the big bad wolf."
"That explains shit. Stop with the simple sentences and explain to me who the fuck you are and where you came from." The boy smirked in response and tilted his head backwards, Commanding Harry to look behind him. Harry's eyes looked over the boy's shoulders.
In the back there was a pitch of trees. All clumped together pretending to be broccoli. Harry peered curiously into the trees. Light exploded from the center lighting up the coliseum of trees. They glowed when scrubbed with bright yellow light. Harry heard the animals cry out and scatter from there sleeping position. The trees began to melt and burn into the ground, they turned black, and everything that they touched withered and died away. Everything was bathed in gray's. Harry was surrounded by a vision of death.
The boy spoke to harry then, whispering numbers and dates into his ears.
"Ten day's, Five hours, Two minutes and fifty seconds." Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapses onto the grass.
Author Note
- Shot notes on the chapter and the characters:OK, if no one gapped it yet, this story concept is loosely knotted round the movie Donnie Darko. So all borrowed plot fragments belong to the writers, and everything else is mine, with the exception of the Harry Potter Characters. This is an AU so Lily and James are in here. Voldemort will make an appearance but not quiet yet, the same for Draco. Keep in mind people that this is Rated R. This chapter is a PG-13, but its definitely going to get worse... Also please remember that this is a Harry/Draco slash. Thanks. Any collective criticism and other happiness can be sent in a review. Thanks readers.
