AN: Hi! I hadn't planned on putting this out, but I got impatient of waiting to let you all read it. I had a majority of it written several months ago, and it's been on the backburner since. I got it to a point where I think I could leave it, as a one-shot/challenge. I want someone else to make a crossover in this section. This little thing plagued me for a while, but this is all I can muster for it. Since it is three in the morning, I am going to quit typing because I don't know what weird things I would say.
I do not own Harry Potter, per usual, or Fran Bow, which is a brilliant game. I suggest it to any one who doesn't mind gore mixed with childish innocence.
Giada Draven, out! (PS, before you ask, no I am not continuing. This is up for adoption, but I will not be working on this anymore. Please don't just say, "Is this abandoned?: or "When are you going to update?" It's rude but the truth. It really bugs me when I say that I won't continue, but I get a hundred questions of when, not even if there's a possibility. Sorry, mini-rant over. Continue on to your regularly scheduled programming.)
A young boy, looking about 14 or 15, sat on a long therapy couch. His long black hair was slightly matted, and his bright green eyes looked like shards of broken glass. A graying old man sat in the chair beside the boy, a small clipboard in hand. Harry Potter and his therapist Dr. Deerne were talking for their last appointment for the summer before Harry went back to his school in September. They had worked out a schedule when he was eleven and found out that he would be going to a boarding school in Scotland.
"Alright, Harry," said Dr. Deerne. "I have your medicine for the rest of the year; you know how to take them. If you need anymore you can use that owl of yours like the school wants. I'll send Hedwig back with enough for until your next appointment." He set a discreet bottle of pills in Harry's hands. "Now, we wanted to try out a new medicine for you to see if it would help you with the nightmares that you keep having. It's called duotine, and you need to take one right before you sleep. It might cause insomnia, but with how the rest of the medicines worked, I think you'll be fine. The most that will happen is that you won't be able to take naps, which will help since you need to take these every time you sleep."
Harry nodded, placing the jar of red pills into his pocket along with his other meds. "Thank you so much, doctor. I'm pretty sure the voices talked about duotine, though. They say when I can't find a way through a puzzle, the red pills will show me a way through."
Dr. Deern shook his head, used to the way Harry speaks of the voices he hears when in trouble. "Alright, well, tell them that I said hello. I will see you next summer, Harry. Stay out of trouble if you can, and make sure to take your pills. Oh, and happy birthday tomorrow."
With that, he shooed the teen from his office, giving him a brief hug before gently closing the door. Harry walked out of the building, jogging through the main part of Whining to go back to Little Whining, and subsequently Privet Drive. Once he got to Number 4, his relatives ignored him. They always did this after one of his appointments, since he didn't take his meds until needed and he always went about a day before the appointment not taking the medicine. This way, Dr. Deerne could gauge how bad the voices had gotten and if he needed to up his dosage.
That night, Harry took the duotine just as he was told, the voices that he had known since he was two quietly whispering encouraging words in his ears. When he drifted to sleep, he found himself in Ithersta, which the voices told him of. In front of him was a young girl in a yellow dress and striped stockings. Next to her was a black cat that looked as if it should be at Hogwarts. The final person there was a tall skeleton wearing a top hat. They looked at him, 'Surprised to see you here', the voices told him.
They jumped up. "Harry!" shouted Fran Bow-Dagenhart. She scooped him up into a hug, and Itward stooped down to join them. Mr. Midnight jumped onto his shoulder and nuzzled into his cheek, curling his tail around Harry's neck. "What are you doing here in Ithersta?" asked Fran.
"I'm not sure," said Harry. "I was just taking the new meds that my doctor put me on, and the moment I fall asleep I'm here."
She took a step back and looked him in the eye. "Do you know what medicine it was that your doctor gave you?"
Nodding, he pulled out the bottle, which had followed him into this reality because he slept in his everyday clothes. When she saw the label, Fran stumbled back as if hit. "Harry, who is your doctor? Did they tell you why you need to take these?" She was frantic, shaking him by his shoulders.
"Fran, it's okay. The pills are to help with my nightmares. Dr. Deern is very kind, and makes sure that I have enough medicine for the whole year since I go to this boarding school in Scotland."
Itward gave him a pitying look. "How bad are your nightmares that he would give you those pills?"
He shrugged, being careful not to jostle Mr. Midnight. "It's mostly about my parents, or their murderer. Or some of the things that keep happening at my school. It's really not as bad as others make it out to be. He just knows that I have trouble sleeping because of how repetitive they are, so he gave me these since they make it easier for me to sleep."
Fran shook her head. "Those made it so that I slept for 3 days after taking them the first time, and then couldn't sleep until I stopped. How can these possibly help you sleep?"
Once more, he shrugged. "I have a weird reaction to meds that cause insomnia; they make me sleep a lot more during the night, but I can never take a nap during the day." He sat down on the ground, putting Mr. Midnight in his lap. The other two sat crossed legged, and they began to speak of the different realities and the inhabitants of each one. Suddenly, he felt a jerk in the back of his head and then he was waking in his room, hearing the sound of something crashing in the kitchen.
Seeing that it was still night time, he grabbed his wand and cautiously moved out of his room. He knew that his relatives weren't home, having been invited to a lawn competition. When he reached the stairs, he heard faint voices coming from the kitchen. "Sorry, you know how clumsy I am." Sighing, he went down the stairs and to the kitchen door, wand concealed behind his back. As soon as he saw the robes, he pulled his wand in front of him and pointed it at the group.
"Who are you?" he barked. A brown-haired, middle-aged man stepped forward, looking ready to hug him, but he kept his wand raised as the voices warned him to make sure first. "What shape did my patronus take during our private lessons?" he asked the man who looked like his ex-defense professor.
The Remus look-alike sighed. "It didn't take a form during our lessons, it was only mist. It didn't become a full shape until the end of the year when over a hundred dementors attacked you, Hermione Granger, and Sirius Black." Nodding, Harry let Remus come over and hug him but kept his wand pointed at the unknowns that the voices didn't trust.
Soon, introductions were made (the person who knocked over a plastic bowl earlier introduced herself as just Tonks) and they were off to wherever it was that the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix were.
As soon as they entered Grimmauld Place, Tonks tripped over a troll leg umbrella stand and caused Sirius's mother to start yelling about, "MUDBLOOD FILTH! BLOOD TRAITORS! YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO STAND IN THE ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK!" That is, until she saw Harry. Immediately she quieted down and stared at him in shock. "What is one of those who can travel to the other realities doing with them," she said, trying to be polite in his presence. This drew the attention of every person in the hall, as well as those from the kitchen. Since no one could make heads or tails of what she said, they let it go. Only Mrs. Weasley remained, waiting to take him up to the room he was to share with Ron.
He grabbed his trunk as the voices made a note to go back and talk to her when he was alone. Once they reached his room, he found Ron and Hermione sitting opposite each other on the two beds in the room. They jumped up, and he was tackled into a hug. Hermione was crying on his shoulder, and Ron was pounding his back. Harry, however, recoiled from the touches, the voices whispering to him of how they didn't write him at all this summer.
He pulled Hermione off of himself, taking a step back from them. "You think that you can be all emotional and that I'll just take you back? Now I see why they didn't like it, you could have written me at any time, but you just have to follow the 'rules'. You could have snuck and written, like everyone else did. Now I think that I should have listened to them and let the hat put me where it wanted to instead of trying to please you!" He had started out calmly, but ended up shouting at the two. With that, he stormed out, going up the stairs to where Mrs. Weasley had said the twins were sleeping.
The moment the two saw him, they scooped him into their arms. They were the only ones in the wizarding world who knew about the voices and his meds. "Harry?" said George.
"We heard you yelling at Ron and Hermione," continued Fred.
"Have you taken your meds?" they said together.
He shook his head. "No, my last appointment for the summer was at 7, and I always stop the meds for a day so Dr. Deern can see how bad they're getting. Plus, I got some new ones that I'm supposed to sleep through the night with, and they woke me up about an hour after I took it and fell asleep." They brought him over to one if the beds and laid him down, only letting him sit up to take the red pill. Almost immediately he was knocked out and in Ithersta to explain to a frantic Fran and Itward what had happened to cause his sudden departure. Fred laid down to his left, George on Harry's right, and they slept like that, the twins curling around their pseudo-brother so the could protect him even in sleep.
In the morning, the boys got dressed quickly to help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast. Of course, Fred and George were great with potions but terrible with food, so Harry was the one to help and they just kept them company. Luckily, Harry was able to take his normal meds before they had to go down.
Soon, between the two cooks, there was a veritable feast prepared with fried eggs, scrambled and even some omelets. Bacon and sausage were placed strategically around the table so that no one would have to get up for seconds. Harry even baked a warm apple pie and made ice cream so that they could have them together later that day. When he told her what he was doing, Mrs. Weasley gave him an odd look. "Where did you learn to bake, Harry dear?"
He shrugged. "My aunt and uncle made me cook for them every day, including breakfast, lunch, and diner. I barely ever got to eat it myself, since they thought freaks didn't deserve to eat or have an actual room." This behavior was extremely odd for him, that is if he had been on his meds. But, since they hadn't taken effect yet, he didn't really understand the impact his words had on the red heads in the room. While the twins didn't look surprised, they were righteously angry and scooped Harry into their arms. Mrs. Weasley was fuming over the child she considered her son being hurt in such a way. She knew that he would never reveal anything like that if he wasn't so tired, and that he wouldn't lie to get attention. She decided to speak with Dumbledore at the next meeting.
Meanwhile, what no one knew was that in Ithersta Fran, Itward, and Mr. Midnight were looking for a way to help him hide his secret from the wizards. What they didn't realize was that anything that is hidden must come to light sometime, and oftimes it is better the earlier it happens.
Soon, all those living in the headquarters were in the kitchen eating as much as they could before the day started. Sirius went to hug Harry, but between the child flinching away from any contact that wasn't from Fred or George, and the two's mother helping form a protective circle around him, he couldn't get near him. Plus, Harry refused to sit down, instead bustling around the kitchen more than Mrs. Weasley did, fixing more eggs than were needed and baking yet another pie. He did this the day after every appointment, cooking so that his mind is off of the fact that he is sort of off his meds. They always take a while to kick in.
After everyone ate, including Harry because the twins forced him to, Mrs. Weasley set them to cleaning up around the house while she went to call Dumbledore. Harry refused to speak to anyone except for Gred and Forge, helping them collect the doxies for use in their prank items. Soon, his meds kicked in and he began to act normal, though he still stayed away from Ron and Hermione. However, everyone had seen how oddly he had acted before and were planning on pulling him into the order's next meeting so that they could interrogate him and find out what was wrong. Ron and Hermione figured it was just the effect of seeing Cedric die, but Ginny thought there had to be more to it.
Finally, after a long day of cleaning, the 'children' went down to the kitchen so that they could eat diner. No one was there, however, so they were going to just wait for Mrs. Weasley. Harry had other ideas. He pulled out bacon, a head of lettuce, and a few tomatoes, setting up the bread next to a jar of mayonnaise. He quickly had the tomatoes cut into slices, tore the lettuce into chunks, and had a large amount of bacon on a napkin to drain some of the grease off. When Mrs. Weasley came in, five out of six were eating, with Harry rushing about so that he could serve some warm apple pie with his hand made ice cream. Smiling, she left them alone so that she could call the order to meet while she had Harry in a secure place; she was worried and knew that she had to do something for her adoptive son.
Within minutes, the entire order had gathered, the only thing that they had been told was that something was wrong with Harry. The children were surrounded, and Harry forced into a seat. His eyes darted around, and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "What is going on? Why am I here? Can't I be cooking? I can make everyone something to eat; you all must be starving." This all rushed out, until he continued to himself, quietly. "They are definitely rubbing off on me, I sound like a mother hen." However, due to the silence in the room everyone heard him.
Moody stepped forward, ever the paranoid one. "Who is 'they', boy?" He didn't see how Harry tried to conceal a flinch, but failed miserably. He shook his head, not wanting to tell them what was wrong. "Answer me, boy!" shouted Moody. Harry flinched and curled into a ball, Fred and George automatically pulling him into their laps so that he could calm down. This reaction was so utterly unexpected that everyone took a step back.
Fred glared at Moody while George rubbed calming circles into Harry's back. "Why would you yell at him like that? Didn't you see how he acted when you called him 'boy'? That's what his uncle calls him, you idiot!" He shouted at the end, George pulling him back when he began to yell, which was scaring Harry. Finally, the entire room quieted, so that Harry could answer them.
Instead of speaking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pills, the ones that he had always taken. "These are my medicine, which I have to take every day unless I have an appointment the next day. They help me with the voices, at least the ones that aren't nice. I'm usually very good at hiding the fact that I need them, but I wasn't expecting for you to get me so soon. I had an appointment yesterday, so I hadn't taken them in a while. Plus, I got new pills, which delayed my other ones, I'm thinking." With that said, he just looked at them, waiting for someone to call him a freak.
The first person to move was Sirius, moving forward slowly so as not to scare his godson anymore than he already had been. When he was close enough, with Fred and George watching all the while, he engulfed Harry in a large hug, breaking down in tears. "Why?" he asked a few minutes later, pulling back slightly. "Why do you need these pills so badly? What happened to cause the 'voices'?"
Settling into his goddog's arms, he began to tell what had happened. "When I was young, around 2 or so, my relatives began making me cook on top of everything else they made me do. I had burnt the bacon, so Uncle Vernon punished me. This time, though, was the first time he hit me. He punched me in the ribs, then threw me into my cupboard. Something in me snapped, I guess is the right word for it. Suddenly, there was a bunch of voices, some telling me to take a knife and kill them, and the others coaxing my magic into healing me and making sure I didn't listen to the violent ones.
The next day, I was talking to the nice ones while working on the garden, and Aunt Petunia heard me. She packed me off to the local asylum, where I met Dr. Deern. He said that the pills would help with the voices, and they made the violent voices go away. The kind ones stayed, though, and they told me that I shouldn't talk to them aloud, but through my mind. Years later, and here I am."
After such a long explanation, Harry was out of breath, and lost what little he had when Hermione crushed him into a hug. Soon, she was joined by almost every female and most of the males in the room. The only ones who weren't in the dog pile (literally, since Sirius had changed to Padfoot and jumped on top of all of them) were Moody, still being suspicious, Snape, and Dumbledore. The later of the three had tears in his eyes, which he was only barely holding back. The faint sound of whimpering forced the group away from Harry, as he curled into a ball to get away from the contact. Fred and George shooed them away, Fred keeping watch as George gathered the 15 year old into his arms.
It took several minutes, filled with Harry's whimpers and George's quiet murmurs. Finally, after several minutes of silence from the Order, Moody began to get fed up with waiting for answers. "Well?" he asked. "Are you going to tell us how we can help?" This was a complete 180 from what the twins were expecting.
Upon looking up, Harry found that the entirety of the Order was looking at him, but none with pity, for which he was grateful. The voices, however, warned that it would be a fruitless venture, trying to get rid of them. He stared Moody in the eye, saying, "You can't. They do not leave me even in the other realities." He fidgeted, not for the first time wishing this was not happening.
Sirius seemed to light up, running upstairs and leaving the room confused, until he came back down with a large tome that had been covered in dust for several years, with the way the dust trailed in a cloud behind him. "The other realities, right? I always hoped it wasn't just some weird pure-blood thing." He opened the book, which seemed to be a journal and handbook rolled into one. He opened it, showing an old illustration of Itward.
Harry smiled, nodding to himself. "I had a feeling that some of the older families would have heard of them."
Sirius smiled as well, pleased that his Black upbringing had finally done something good. George, however, had thought of something. "Harry? Since they know now, are you going to stop hiding your meds at school?"
He thought for a moment, before nodding. "Why should I hide it now that they know? None of the people at Hogwarts matter to me, at least their opinions don't. I don't exactly care what they think, since they think I'm insane as is." He nodded, before looking at the people surrounding him. "Can I get up now? It's not really comfortable to be so close to people…"
The ones that had not moved away from the dog pile (not quite so literal without Sirius) jumped up, giving Harry and the twins space. It was decided that Harry would be himself, not hiding his medicine and that if trouble arose then the twins would be the ones to deal with it. With that, Harry smiled, taking comfort in the voices talking off how they could use this to his advantage, their focus being to protect him. It was peaceful in his mind, even as those around him could not find such peace.