I'm So Sorry
by ncalkins; Rowling owns Harry Potter; Scott owns Five Nights At Freddy's, ooc, au
"Hello, kids," a deep robotic voice said. "I'm Freddy Fazbear from Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, and I want to invite you to my home."
On the telly a bear with a microphone in hand waved. It looked friendly with its rosy cheeks. Big blue eyes blinked at the camera. Its four fingered paw brushed against its top hat as if to straighten it. The bow tie around its neck shinned in the light.
"Turn it up," Dudley demanded from his place on the creamy couch, kicking his legs making the furniture thump with each hit. His blond hair glowed in the sunlight.
Aunt Petunia turned up the volume listening intently to the commercial. If her Dudders wanted to go to this place, then she needed to know where it was. She smiled at Dudley, who had straightened and leaned forward to see the telly better, and noticed that even the Freak was paying attention. On the telly fuzzy pictures of a carousel, an ice cream machine, pizza, cake, games and children running around screaming happily showed.
"Come on down to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria," Freddy said, its white, dull teeth clicking together each time it closed its mouth. "Here, you'll be dazzled by Bonnie the Bunny's guitar solos."
"Hi, I'm Bonnie the Bunny," a blue bunny playing a fake red guitar waved at the camera. Its green eyes sparkled under plum colored eyelids. "I look forward to playing guitar with you."
"Eat pizza, cake, ice cream, and cupcakes with Chica the Chicken," Freddy Fazbear said.
"Hiya," a yellow chicken holding a pink cupcake in its right hand chirped. "I'm Chica the Chicken, and I can't wait to eat with you."
"At Freddy Fazbear's you can watch our spectacular musical show," Freddy's voice said as a clip of the three robots on stage showed. "There is also Kids Cove, where your little ones can hang out with Toy Foxy."
"Hi," a white and pink fox sat on a toy box shaped like a treasure chest. "I'm Toy Foxy, but you can call me Foxy. I'm certain we will get along grand."
"There is a Game Area where you can get a balloon from our very own Balloon Boy," Freddy's voice said, the camera showed a human based robot. The boy robot with its shiny red and blue propeller cap and shirt offered a bouncing child a red balloon.
"Over in the prize corner," Freddy's voice said. "Your child can exchange tickets for prizes given out by our friend The Puppet."
Petunia shivered at the sight of a lean black thing that rose out of a present box. The puppet with long fingered hands reached for a red Foxy plushy and handed it to a little boy. The camera zoomed in on the puppet's white face with purple lines running from its black eyes. White dots looked at the camera before the puppet folded in on itself and the box closed sealing it within.
"So come on down to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria where fantasy and fun come to life for all ages," Freddy waved at the camera. "Reserve a party room today."
As the phone number flashed on the TV, Dudley screamed. "I want to go there for my birthday!"
"Okay, pumpkin," Petunia said, she snapped her fingers at Harry. "Boy, give me a piece of paper and a crayon."
She took the scribbled on piece of paper and the broken red crayon Harry handed to her. Her lip curled at the mess on the paper, her Dudley could do much better, as she wrote down the number. Petunia got up and walked to the hallway phone; the muffled sound of small footsteps followed her. The paper crinkled in her hand; the red wax rubbed against her fingers. She placed the paper on the center of the table and punched in the number.
Petunia glanced at Harry, who stood on tiptoe beside the table emerald eyes staring at her, as she held the phone to her ear. She crossed her left arm around her waist tapping her well manicured fingers against her flower print dress. The pale yellow color of the dress clashed with her pomegranate red nail polish. The ringing in her ear made her frown and tap faster. Finally, the phone clicked signaling that someone had picked up.
"Hello, this is Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaeria," a feminine voice chirped.
"Yes, my name is Petunia Dursley," Petunia pressed her thumb nail to her lip. "I would like to reserve a party room for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" The voice questioned. "I'm sorry madam, but all of our private party rooms are booked. You can use the main room where the stage is, but you would have to share it with non-party members as well."
"That's fine," Petunia frowned. "Can you do anything special for my son's birthday?"
"We can have Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica sing him a song," the voice said. "We can also have one of the animatronics serve the party members cake."
"That would be perfect," Petunia said.
"Okay, what time should we expect you?" The voice asked.
"What time do you open?" Petunia asked.
"Ten o'clock in the morning," the voice said.
"Expect us by eleven," Petunia said.
"Okay," the voice said. "Would you like a special party package?"
The joyful screaming of kids filtered through the phone. Petunia's brain pounded against her skull. She would need to take some aspirin when she got off the phone, and when she took Dudley to that place.
"What does it come with?" Petunia asked, tapping her foot.
"It comes with a free stuff animal of the child's choice, one hundred free tokens, and a free picture taken with one or all of the animatronics," the voice said.
"That's fine," Petunia said.
"Okay," the voice said. "Your table number will be number eight. We look forward to seeing you."
"Thank you," Petunia said before hanging up. She walked toward the living room door when a soft voice stopped her.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry whispered; he rolled the bottom of his ragged hand-me-down shirt.
"What?" Petunia snapped. Her eyes darted to the telly where her show was on.
"Can I have my drawing back?" Harry asked. He stood on tiptoe, trying to reach the paper next to the phone.
"Here," Petunia said. She grabbed the paper and shoved it towards Harry.
Harry clutched his drawing to his chest and followed his aunt into the living room. He stopped in the doorway. In the living room on his aunt's pristine white carpet sat Dudley with bits of paper all around him. Harry's emerald eyes watered at Dudley tore up another piece of paper.
"What are you doing, Duddy?" Aunt Petunia asked.
"Making confetti for my birthday party," Dudley said. He smiled at his mom before sneering at Harry.
"That's so smart," Aunt Petunia cooed.
Harry inched into the living room and snatched up a broken blue crayon that had rolled near the couch leg. He shoved it into his pants pocket before reaching for another crayon. He tried to remain out of Dudley's sight, grabbing a yellow crayon, a red crayon, and an orange crayon. He was going for a purple crayon when Dudley realized what he was doing.
"Mommy," Dudley wailed. "Harry's stealing my crayons."
"What?" Aunt Petunia's hazel eyes froze Harry to his spot. She zeroed in on the crayon clutched in his hand.
"Put that down and go to your cupboard," Aunt Petunia snapped. "I'll be telling Vernon about this."
The crayon fell from Harry's numb fingers. He dragged his feet out of the living room, and quietly opened his cupboard door. He crawled in, closing the door behind him, and sat on his cot. There in the dim light filtered in from the hallway, he took out the crayons he sneaked away and began to draw Freddy Fazbear.
"Mommy," Harry heard Dudley whine. "I want new crayons. The Freak touched these. They have germs and they're broken."
"Of course, Ickle Duddleykins," his aunt's nasally voice said.
Harry sighed through his nose as he drew Freddy's top hat. What a waste of perfectly good crayons. He drew on his piece of paper as slowly as he could. Despite his efforts the page was soon covered front and back with various scribbles of the characters from Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Harry sat in the cupboard for hours, only being let out for scheduled potty breaks, in the dark stretching out as much as he could. Harry took a nap to past the time quicker, and woke up to the sound of his Uncle walking in the door.
"Hello, Pet," his uncle said.
Harry wrinkled his nose at the wet sound of them kissing.
"How was your day?" his uncle asked.
"Good," Aunt Petunia said. "I set up a party for Dudley at that Pizzeria."
"Freddy Fazbears?" His uncle questioned. "I think I remember my boss raving about that place about three weeks ago. Took his child there once, and the brat wanted to go back every since."
"That's the one," Aunt Petunia said. "I just need to figure out what to do with The Boy."
Harry frowned pressing his ear to the door. He shivered because of the cool wood. His shaking hand lightly touched the door.
"I don't want him ruining my Dudley's sixth birthday," Aunt Petunia said.
Harry's lip quivered at the sound of the phone's buttons being pushed. Each beep and click of his aunt's nails made his stomach tightened.
"Hello?" Aunt Petunia said. "Yvonne? I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"
Harry's eyes burned. His vision blurred. Hot tears fell. He scratched his cheek, trying to wipe them away.
"I need you to watch my nephew." Aunt Petunia said.
Harry thumped the back of his head gently against the wall. His hand slid down to his knee. His stomach clenched at the silence. If his aunt's friend watched him, he'd have to play dress up. She always put him in dresses and put make up on him.
"Oh," Aunt Petunia sighed. "Well, alright, I hope your grandmother gets better soon."
"Well?" Uncle Vernon asked.
"She can't do it," Aunt Petunia grumbled. "Said something about her grandmother needing a kidney replacement."
"What about Figg?" Uncle Vernon asked.
Harry suppressed a groan. If he got sent there, then he would have to look at pictures of old cats while being surrounded by cats. The upside is he might get to watch the telly or eat a sweet. The down side is Miss. Figg only has basic cable so there wasn't a lot to watch, and the sweets she served him either had cat hair covering them or were stale. The stale sweets weren't so bad, but they tasted faintly like cabbage. Probably because her house smelled strongly of the vegtable.
"Sick with the flu," Aunt Petunia said.
"So what are we going to do?" Uncle Vernon asked.
"We could take him," Aunt Petunia said. "He can stay outside."
"Someone may call the cops," Uncle Vernon said.
"Not if one of us goes out to sit with him," Aunt Petunia said. "We can say he has trouble with crowds."
"I suppose that would work," Uncle Vernon mumbled.
"Good," Aunt Petunia said. Her heels clicked as she walked toward the kitchen. "You can watch him because I'm not missing my baby's birthday party."
"Yes, dear," Uncle Vernon muttered.
That night the members of Number Four Privet Drive barely got any sleep. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were kept awake by Dudley's crying and screaming. He didn't want Harry to come. Dudley finally went unconscious from the fit he had thrown. Harry, however, stay awake even as snores rocked the house. He grinned and giggled, tossed and turned, never once forgetting that he would be able to see Freddy Fazbear. He finally fell asleep around midnight.
"Up," Aunt Petunia rapped on Harry's door. "Get up. We will not be late for Dudley's party."
Harry's eyes snapped open. He rolled out of bed, dunked under the cot and fished out a pair of socks. He shook them out to make sure no bugs were in them before putting them on. He tore off his pajamas and got dressed as fast as he could. He was in such a hurry, he hit the top of his head on the roof of the cupboard jumping around trying to get his pants on.
"Ow," Harry rubbed at the stinging part of his head as dust floated down around him.
He finished getting ready, straightened his glasses, and walked out the cupboard. Aunt Petunia stood with her skeletal hands on her hips covered in a peach colored sun dress. She frowned at Harry looking at him up and down. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Harry shifted from one foot to the other, trying to flatten his hair, and straighten his clothes.
Harry sighed and relaxed when Aunt Petunia turned away toward the footsteps thumping down the stairs. Dudley barreled toward the door in a blue shirt with a monkey on it. His beefy legs jiggled with every step. He reached for the door knob jumping up and down trying to get it.
"Little Tyke," Uncle Vernon chuckled as he tried to tie a bow-tie around his neck. Sausage fingers fumbled with the black fabric. His plum dress shirt strained against his girth.
Harry eyed the buttons on his uncle's shirt. Last time his uncle had worn a button down, Harry had been nailed in the forehead with one of the buttons. He edged around his uncle and aunt, who was helping her husband tie his bow-tie, to get to his shoes. He slipped on his ragged gray sneakers, shivering at the slimy insides. His big toe stuck out of the tip of the shoe, but Harry ignored it as he pressed the Velcro straps into place.
"Can we go," Dudley whined hitting the door.
"Yes, yes," Aunt Petunia said, pushing Harry out of the way so she could let her son out.
Dudley raced out of the house, Aunt Petunia walked after him, Harry made to follow when he was shoved into the door frame. He stared up at his attacker with wide eyes. His uncle's face loomed over him. Uncle Vernon's mustache bristled under his nose like an angry cat.
"One thing," his uncle hissed. "One thing goes wrong, and you'll be in your cupboard for a week. Got it?"
Harry nodded rapidly; though, he did not know what he could do to ruin Dudley's party. They were going to the greatest place on earth. There would be games, food, and singing animals. What could he do to ruin Dudley's party?
His uncle pushed Harry out the door, and locked it behind them. Harry headed for the car breathing in air heavy with the scent of freshly cut grass. The wind wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Harry opened the backseat of the tan minivan, and for the next hour he was poked and pinched by his cousin, but he didn't care because he was going to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.
Harry gawked at the red brick building. Giant glass doors showed what looked like a metal detector with a black light, and a lady who stamped the hands of children and adults. With every opening of the front doors, Harry could hear the excited screams of the playing children and the music playing inside. His aunt gripped his hand. Every step brought him closer to this magical place. Every step made his stomach sparkle like fairy dust, and his heart fly.
His aunt lets go of his hand to walk with Dudley to the main doors. Harry took a few steps toward the door when his uncle grabbed the back of his shirt. Harry jerked to a stop and looked up at Uncle Vernon.
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon growled.
"Inside?" Harry asked. He looked at the doors where fun was waiting.
"No, you're not," Uncle Vernon said. "You're staying out here with me."
Harry's heart fell through the earth's core. His eyes filled with tears so he lowered his head. He didn't want to his give his Uncle the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Harry sat down in front of the window to watch the lucky children play.
Emerald eyes stayed glued to the screaming, running, children. More than once Dudley stopped to show a mountain of tickets he had won. Harry glared at Dudley as he stuffed his face full of pizza. His stomach growled. He wanted so badly to be in there. Even if he had to sit at the table and not move. It would be worth it if he could hear the band playing.
Harry's eyes followed Dudley as he ran to the prize corner. Dudley knocked on the side of the large box until the Puppet popped out. Dudley jumped along with all the other kids behind him, luckily, Dudley didn't create a domino effect. The Puppet loomed over them. Harry shivered at the sight of the Puppet's white mask with purple tears. The Puppet leaned over Dudley, long clawed fingers tapping the purple strip on its box. Dudley pointed with a shaking hand at the red Foxy plushy. The Puppet grabbed the toy and handed it to Dudley. With fox in hand Dudley ran over to the window where Harry stood watching; he pressed the fox against the glass, its snout pushing up, and stuck out his tongue.
Harry bit his lip at the sight of the cute plushy. He wanted one. As Dudley ran away, Harry's eyes burned, but he didn't let the tears fall. He sniffled and pressed his forehead to the glass. He rubbed at his eyes and clenched his T-shirt in his hands. The window fogged up with every breath he took, so Harry couldn't see. He removed his forehead from the glass, leaving a greasy mark in its place. Harry moved to the side; he could see once again without fog in the way or grease distorting the view, and what he saw broke his heart.
A spot light rested on Dudley, who hugged his Foxy plushy close, and on Aunt Petunia, who dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. Freddy Fazbear with his rosy cheeks stood in front of them. He gestured to the stage where Bonnie stood a red guitar in hand. Bonnie played, and all the children and adults sang to the birthday boy. Harry knew they were singing because with every leaving and entering family; he could hear the robotic and human voices butchering the birthday song.
Harry watched as Bonnie put down his guitar and walk off stage to stand beside Freddy. His blue coat shinned under the light. Freddy and Bonnie turned to someone out of sight; Harry turned his head to see. His mouth dropped and watered as Chica came forward with a giant chocolate cake. Chica placed the cake in front of Dudley. Dudley blew out the candles, and Freddy cut the cake. Freddy place a big slice in front of Dudley.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Uncle Vernon grunted. "Stay here."
Harry nodded mindlessly. Gravel crunched under his uncle's feet as he left. Harry watched Dudley laughed eating a bite of cake. Dudley spotted Harry and waved chewing with his mouth open. Harry's heart hurt at the realization that he would never have that. He would never be in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. He would never taste that cake, never hear the robots sing, never play the games, and never get a plushy. Tears welled up in his eyes and slipped out. Harry wiped at his face trying his best to keep the tears at bay. He watched as Freddy moved from child to child handing out slices of cake. Harry frowned at the children throwing fits about the slow moving bear. They slammed their fist on the tables and stomped their feet until Freddy gave them the treat.
'I would never do that,' Harry thought. 'I would wait for my cake, say thank you, and clean up after myself.'
Harry barely registered the sound of gravel crunching behind him. A car door open and close. Footsteps came closer, and stopped beside him. Harry looked up to see a balding man smiling down at him. He wore a purple suit and sunglasses. The man knelt down beside Harry.
"Why aren't you in there?" The purple man asked, looking into the window.
"My aunt said I couldn't," Harry said. He sniffed and wiped at his nose. Clear snot left a trail on his hand. He knew he shouldn't talk to strangers, but this man looked so nice.
"Why ever not?" The purple man asked.
"I don't know," Harry whispered, rolling the edge of his shirt.
"Well," The purple man scratched at his head standing up. "Why do you want to go in there? What is the one thing you would want to do?"
"I want to meet Freddy, Foxy, Bonnie, and Chica," Harry said.
"What if I said I could get you a private meeting with those four?" the purple man asked, leaning forward.
"Really?" Harry gasped, his eyes widening. He got up; the gravel dug into his hand and fell leaving indents. Harry dusted off his jeans a reflex from Aunt Petunia complaining about him tracking in dirt. Pebbles fell like rain.
"Really," the purple man said, standing up. "Just get in my car, and I'll take you around back to sneak in like spies then you can meet them."
Harry took a step forward, then hesitated. He looked over his shoulder and all around for his uncle. There was no sign of him. Cars glinted under the midday sun. Shadows under the metal beasts darkened. The clouds overhead closed in over the sun like a coffin lid.
"I'm not sure," Harry said, picking at his shirt. "My uncle might get mad."
"It will only take a second," the man said, beckoning. "We'll be done before he gets back."
"I," Harry looked around once more. "I really shouldn't."
"Son of a bitch," the purple man growled, placing his hands on his hips. "Just come on."
Harry's eyes widened as the purple man stomped towards him. His hands shook, and heart hurt from pounding against his rib cage. He looked around for his Uncle Vernon, glanced at the people inside the restaurant, begging for someone to save him. His legs ached from their paralyzed status despite the energy running through him.
A large hand wrapped around Harry's arm. Harry's heart stopped as tears filled his eyes. No one was coming. No one would help. His heart beat faster, his eyes widened as tears fell, and he pushed at the man's hand. He scratched at the man's fingers. Small nails digging into callous flesh, but the man wouldn't let go.
"Stop squirming," the man growled.
Harry pulled at his arm, putting all his weight into stepping back. It did nothing but make his arm hurt. Tears streamed down his face. He tugged at his arm.
"Just," the purple man grunted. "Come on."
Harry took a deep breath to scream when the purple man stepped forward. A burning pain came from his side, and then again in his chest. Harry looked down at the knife being pulled out of him. His wide eyes ran relentlessly with tears. It was as if he had a waterfall inside his head, and the only way out was through his eyes and nose. He fell to the ground. The last thing he saw was the purple man getting into his car and driving away.
Harry sat up. It took a moment to remember where he was. He looked in the window of the pizzeria. Everyone was still eating. He got up and pressed his hand to the window only for it to go through. Harry pulled back and looked at his gray hand. Then the screaming started.
Harry looked around for the source of the screaming to see a man and a woman rushing toward him. The man in a powder blue shirt knelt down. The woman in the cream pants hovered nearby. Harry looked down and his eyes widened. His body laid on the sidewalk, but how?
Harry at himself. How could his body be there, but he was here? Except he looked different. His skin, clothes, and even hair were all gray. The world still maintained its color, so why didn't he? Why wasn't he on the ground?
"Is he alive?" The woman asked.
"I don't know," the man said.
Harry looked at the body on the ground. His stomach turned, and he had to force his eyes to study the immobile body. Red stained his shirt. Emerald eyes hid behind their lids. Tear tracks stained his cheeks. Harry looked away. Was he dead? That explained why his hand passed through the wall, but where were his parents? Did he not get to see them because he was bad, because he was freak, or because he wanted to go with that man?
"I'm going to get help," the woman said, rushing into the pizzeria.
Harry looked into the window of the pizzeria. He wanted to go inside, but he didn't want to leave his body. Maybe this was a dream and he'd wake up. Harry turned to look at the pizzeria doors as they busted open. His aunt huffed staring with a slacked jaw and wide eyes at Harry's body. She screamed before rushing to the body's side.
Harry stared with large eyes at his aunt. She carelessly dropped to her knees dirtying her dress. She pressed her hands against his wounds getting blood all over her manicured nails.
"Harry, Harry, no" Aunt Petunia said, brushing back his bangs. Smearing blood onto his forehead. "Come on, wake up, wake up."
"I'm going to call the emergencies," the man said. "Keep pressure on his wounds."
Aunt Petunia nodded rapidly. The man stood up and pulled out his phone.
"Pet?" Uncle Vernon's voice called. "Pet, what's going on?"
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia screeched. "What happened? Where were you?"
Uncle Vernon pushed his way through the crowd. His face turned pale as bone. His hands shook as his eyes darted from his dead nephew to his frantic wife.
"I," he stuttered. "I went to the bathroom. I was only gone for a moment."
"Mom?" Harry jumped as Dudley stepped through him. "Mom, why isn't he moving?"
"Come on, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said as he steered his son away back into the restaurant.
"Lily," Aunt Petunia sobbed cradling Harry's body. "Lily, forgive me."
Harry turned away from his crying aunt and towards a loud popping sound. Strangely, none of the other parents and workers, who had come out of the pizzeria after Aunt Petunia, noticed. A couple of paces away a group of people stood. Harry frowned at them. He didn't remember them being there, and they were dressed weird.
The man with a shiny long beard pulled out a stick. He whispered something and a white light shot out of the stick toward one of the nearest parents. A white light enveloped the man. The light spread to every person besides those that stood with the silver bearded man, Aunt Petunia, and Harry's body. As one the parents and workers left the scene.
"Spread out," the bearded man said. "Keep the Muggles away."
A man with a hooked nose went into the building. A blinding light came from the windows within seconds. He walked out and joined a stern faced woman in emerald robes.
"The Muggles inside have been obliviated," the man said.
"Good work Severus," The woman said. She glanced at the body, and paled. "Merlin, that something like this could happen to Harry Potter."
"It's happens to other children far too often," Severus said. "And we do not rush to their aid."
Harry, needlessly, moved out of the way of the man's bellowing black cloak. Severus knelt down next to a woman in white, who was waving a stick over Harry, and pulled out a bag from seemingly nowhere. Severus looked at the man with claw like scars covering his face hovering nearby.
"If you have time to hover, wolf," Severus growled. "You have time to keep Muggles away from here."
"I," the man stuttered, amber eyes glued to Harry's body. He wrung his hands in front of him. "I know some healing spells. Perhaps I could be of some serves."
"Remus," the woman in white said. Her silver eyes stayed glued to the changing light coming from her stick, but her voice was soft like fur on a puppy. "You need to help Arthur set up a barrier to keep Muggles away."
Harry looked around. Pairs of people in cloaks formed a circle around Aunt Petunia. They all held stick in the air shooting out a rainbow colored web creating a dome. Behind Severus and the woman in white a portly man with thinning red hair in a strange mismatch of clothes tried to complete the dome by himself, but a hole still formed. People gathered around that hole.
"Is that a little boy?" Harry heard them ask.
"Remus," the woman in white said. "I know you want to help Harry, and you can do that by keeping the Muggles away. His situation is critical enough without them mucking up everything. I'm doing all I can to close these wounds, and Severus has blood replenishing potions. He's going to be fine; I just need space and zero distractions."
"Alright, Poppy," Remus deflated rubbing his hand over his face.
Harry watched as the shabbily dressed man lumbered over to the portly red headed man. He too took out a stick and within minutes the dome was complete. The people who had stood gawking chattered excitedly. The man in the purple robes with glowing moons and stars step forward. His silver beard shined in the sunlight as he raised his stick pointed it at the people and said something strange.
"Obliviate," the man said. Harry tilted his head to the side as a beam of light shot toward the people and engulfed them. Dazed, the people left as if they had never seen anything in the first place.
"You can help him, right?" Aunt Petunia demanded, looking at the people in cloaks. Her wide eyes roved. Harry took a step back at the sight of them.
"Yes," Poppy said. "It will only take a moment to heal his wounds, and then we can administer the potions needed to replace any blood that he lost."
She waved the stick and vanished Harry's hand-me-down shirt. Blood boiled out of the wound. Harry's flesh turned pink around the wound contrasting with the paleness of the rest of him. Poppy pointed at each wound in turn and with a whispered word they healed. Harry's eyes stayed glued to his body, watching the wounds knit together.
"Severus, blood potion please," Poppy commanded, holding out her hand.
Severus opened the bulky black bag next to him. He pulled out a vial filled with a thick red liquid and handed it to Poppy. She took the glass and forced the slow moving liquid down Harry's throat.
Harry scrunched his noise at the sight. He hoped he wouldn't taste it after this strange dream.
"After this," Poppy said, massaging Harry's throat. "We should be able to wake him up, and send you all on your way."
Harry's stomach fluttered. He looked back at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. If he stayed where he was, then he wouldn't get to see inside. Harry stepped closer to the window. If he stayed here and woke up there was a good chance of them never coming back, no way would Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon ever let Dudley back to such a dangerous place. This may be his only chance to see the inside, to feel like a normal kid for once, and if nothing else, even if this was a dream at least it would be a good one.
Harry stepped through the window. Laughter and screams hit his ears like a sledge hammer. The black and white floor shinned where it wasn't covered with pizza sauce or mud tracks. Kids ran around him, and even some through him. Harry jumped and stepped back when the first kid ran through him, only for two more to do. The kids shivered and looked around, but soon continued on their journey to the prize corner.
Harry took a deep breath. Burt pizza crust filled his nose. He walked quickly around the tables. Colorful drawings, stained with grease, water rings, and sauce sat abandoned on wooden tables. He walked up to the stage and gaped at the robots. Freddy's eyes seemed to follow him as he floated by. Chica in her bib and pink panties turned her head in his direction. Bonnie stopped strumming his guitar to stare at Harry.
"Mommy, what are they staring at?" A little boy asked.
"Nothing, honey," his mom said.
Harry continued to the game corner. He pasted a group of children surrounding something ever so often one would exit the group with a balloon. Pings and dings bounced off his ears. Lights flashed and cream colored tickets poured out of the machines. Harry gawked at the flashing lights. Then his vision blurred and blackened. The screams of children, dings of games, and laughter was replaced by his screeching Aunt.
"Why won't he wake up?" Aunt Petunia screeched.
"Come on, Harry, wake up," Poppy's voice demanded.
His vision cleared. He stood in front of a skee-ball game. A girl with pigtails rolled the ball up and got it into the hundred point slot. She jumped up and down as the machine printed tickets.
Harry hurried to the prize corner. He needed to see the prizes and the Puppet before he woke up. His heart squeezed at the thought. His eyes widened at the sight of stuffed animals and stuffed characters from Freddy Fazbear's group of friends. Harry looked at the Chica sitting on the counter and then at the Chica on stage. They looked different. He tilted his head and looked between them once more before shrugging.
Before him a boy, bigger than him, knocked on the Puppet's box. The Puppet popped out making the boy shriek and stumble back. The boy laughed as the Puppet eased back down into the box resting its arms on the side of its box.
"I want that one," the boy said, handing over a bundle of tickets pointing at a purple Bonnie.
The Puppet rose like a ballerina toward the Bonnie the boy had pointed at. It plucked the toy from its place, and gifted the stuffed animal to the boy. The boy squealed and rushed off hugging the Bonnie to his chest. The Puppet turned to the next child, who walked up; its claws brushed against the floor.
Harry floated forward staring at the prize shelf. There was a Foxy, one of many, hanging from a hook. A black eye patch covered one of its amber button eyes. A snaggletooth peeked out from its fabric mouth. Harry reached out. His fingers hovered over the plushy when his vision blurred again. His aunt was still screeching. Poppy still demanded him to wake up.
"No," Harry muttered. His vision cleared for a moment before blurring again.
"No," Harry said. His feet slid on the floor away from the prizes.
"No," Harry shouted. His heart jumped, and he lashed out searched for something to hold onto.
A hand connected with Harry's. Then his hand wrapped around a plushy, and he fall onto his side. All Harry could do was see in front of him. He couldn't move his head or get up. His sight was wrong. It was like seeing through a telly screen with too much static.
A young girl with brown pigtails leaned over to look him in the eyes. Her brown eyes looked him up and down. Her left pigtail hung like a piece of rope. Her right pigtail fell behind her.
"Are you okay, Mister Puppet?" she asked biting her lip.
"He'll be okay, Lucy," a pair of shiny black shoes walked into Harry's line of site. "He just had a spill."
"Does he need a band-aid?" Lucy asked stepping back.
Harry felt large, warm, hands grip his arms with a grunt he was lifted up and placed into the Puppet's box. The stuffed animal was taken from his hand, and given to the little girl. She squeezed the Freddy Fazbear plushy to her chest.
"No," the man who had taken the plushy from Harry said. "He's fine. Why don't you go listen to the band?"
Lucy beamed. "Okay!"
Her pink dress waved goodbye as she sprinted for the stage.
The man rubbed his head. Thinning red hair flopped every which way. He pushed up his black coke bottle glasses.
"You doing alright?" he asked checking Harry over.
Harry tried to speak, but all that came out was a strange screaming noise.
The man winced. "Ouch, it seems you messed with your voice box. I'm not sure when we can get you fixed so it'd probably be best if you don't speak."
The man reached around Harry, and pressed something in Harry's neck. Harry tried to speak again, but he couldn't. The man rubbed his hands on his knees, and left. Before long a child with crooked teeth and a bright green shirt ran up.
"I want that one," he said, pointing at something out of Harry's sight.
Harry looked to see what he was pointing at. A Chica plushy hung from a hook. He reached for the high up toy and froze. Long black fingers hovered over the yellow fabric made chicken. Harry looked down at his arm. It was long and black with white strips covering where the wrist would be on a regular arm. He looked down his torso. Three large white buttons went down in a line.
"I want my toy," the boy whined.
Harry looked at the boy. He was pouting, so Harry outstretched his arm for the Chica plushy but it was just out of reach from where he sat. Harry looked around his box. Maybe there was some extendable arm or something he could use, but there was nothing.
"Come on," the boy groaned.
Harry reached for the Chica plushy once more. He still couldn't get it. He looked above himself. A thick black rope hung from the ceiling. Harry gripped the rope and pulled himself up. He stepped out of the gift box, taking note of how slender his legs were, and keeping hold of the rope got the plushy.
Harry turned toward the boy Chica plushy in hand. He knelt down, still gripping the rope now pulled taunt, and offered it to the boy. The boy bounced on the balls of his feet. He snatched the plushy from Harry's hand, and ran off.
"Thank you," he called over his shoulder.
Harry straightened. He watched the boy run off. Everything seemed brighter than before. He looked down at himself once more. He was the Puppet. How did this happen?
"Mister Puppet," a small boy in tan shorts stopped in front of him. "May I have that guitar? I got enough tickets, my mamma said so."
Harry stared at the boy and his handful of tickets. He turned and plucked the red guitar from its shelf. He gifted it to the boy, who smiled at him with missing teeth. Harry looked at the other kids approaching. He heard the band playing, people laughing, and joyful screams. He decided it didn't matter how he came to be here because he was in the happiest place on earth.