I just want to tell everyone at the outset, this one's going to be more than a little bit odd. it involves kidnapping and statuatory rape.
there are so many stories where harry was raped as a child, with negitive emotion connected to it, and i wanted to do one where it actually imporooved his mental state. i do not know if this is even psychologically possible, but for the sake of the story, we'll pretend it is, ok? and as allways, i don't care if you think it's too wierd and don't want to read it, but please don't read it and then flame me for impossibility, or for it being 'sick'. yeah, the relationship in the begenning is sick. i'm not trying to say it's right, because it's not. and i've already said i don't know if this could ever really happen or not. i will use any flames to toast marshmellows over.
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Harry huddled in on himself in the tunnel of the playground. He was cold, but he couldn't go home yet. Aunt Petunia had told him to stay out until it got dark so she could entertain Uncle Vernon's guests without him getting in the way. A man walked up to him, and he flinched back. The man pretended he didn't notice.
"Hey youngling. You cold?" He sounded so concerned, that Harry trusted him despite himself. He nodded. "You want to come with me and warm up?" The man held out his hand, and after a long moment, Harry took it. The man scooped Harry up and tucked him inside his jacket. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a walk to my house. This warm enough for now?" Harry nodded and cuddled into the man's warmth. He was so cold.
The man walked in silence for about fifteen minutes before speaking again. "My name's Fredrick. What's your name, youngling?" Harry didn't answer, too busy trying to stay awake to focus on what the man was saying. "Hey, don't fall asleep on me, little one. You're too cold. You can take a nap once we get you warmed up." Harry nodded again, struggling valiantly to keep his eyes open. The man kept up a running commentary on everything and anything until they reached his house, his voice harsh, and yet soothing. Somehow, his voice anchored Harry, helping him to stay awake.
"Alright, youngling. We're home. Just a few more minutes and you can go to sleep if you still want to." Harry nodded again. The man chuckled, setting Harry down so he could open the door. "Don't you talk?" Harry shook his head. "No? Why not, I wonder?" Harry just stuck his thumb in his mouth, signaling that he was uncomfortable with the conversation. "How old are you, little one?" Harry held up his hand, five fingers spread wide. "Five?" Harry nodded. "Boy, you don't look it, you're so tiny." Harry smiled slightly. He heard that all the time.
Fredrick got him a bowl of hot soup from the crock-pot sitting next to the stove. "I like having something hot as soon as I come in. Be careful; don't burn yourself. It's really hot." Harry nodded, blowing carefully on each spoonful of soup, humming in delight at the taste. "You like it?"
"'S'goo'!" Harry exclaimed. Fredrick smiled, even though he was upset that this boy still talked like he was two. Maybe he had a speech disability or something; it didn't necessarily mean his family neglected him, though he rather thought they did. Why else would the boy have been by himself on the playground catching hypothermia?
"Yes, I thought it was rather good myself." Harry quickly finished the small portion. "Do you want some more?" Harry shook his head quickly, eyes wide, as though he was afraid he'd get in trouble. "I have plenty; I live out here all by myself. You can have some more if you want." Hands shaking slightly, Harry held his bowl out to him. Fredrick took it gravely, spooning more soup into it before setting it back before the child. "Here you are, mis pequeño."
"T'ank you," Harry whispered, dipping in his spoon.
"You are most welcome, little one. I always have enough to share with a friend." Harry looked at him, eyes wide at being called a friend. He had never had any friends. The children in town were all scared of Dudley, and the adults just didn't care what happened to him. A broad smile stole over his face. This man –Fredrick?- was someone who cared about him; something he hadn't had since his parents died when he was only a year old.
"The sun's setting," Fredrick commented lightly. "When do you have to be home?"
"Dark," Harry whispered.
"Well then, we'd better got you home pretty soon, eh?" Harry nodded slightly. He didn't want to leave. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon resented that he had to live with them since his parents died, as they were his only living relatives. But it would look bad to put their own blood in an orphanage, so they kept him, or at least that was why he presumed they kept him; he knew better than to try to ask them anything. He'd just get slapped and no answer. Fredrick noticed the look on his face and smiled to himself. This wouldn't be anywhere near as hard as he thought it would be.
"You can come back and visit me soon. I'll meet you on the playground. But only when there's nobody there. People might get suspicious if they see us together a lot." Harry nodded reluctantly, wanting to tell the man that nobody cared what he did, but he couldn't find the words. Fredrick dug through a box near the backdoor.
"Stuff my mom sent me from when I was a kid," he explained. "I never really went through it, but I remember there were a couple of sweaters in here. Maybe one would fit you." He pulled out a sweater that he had specifically bought for the tiny boy, not that he was going to tell anyone that. He handed it to the child, who stared at it for a long moment, then pulled off the oversized, ragged sweater he was already wearing, revealing a pale, emaciated chest before slipping the sweater on, pulling the other one back on over it, cleverly concealing his new clothing. Fredrick's heart constricted at the sight of the boy's obvious malnourishment, as well as the fact that he felt it necessary to hide something so common as a sweater. He swore that he would get the boy away from those people he called family as soon as possible. While his interest in the boy was not what would commonly be called 'good', he had strong feelings on how you treated children, and neglect and starvation were two things he could not stand to see.
Harry was a frequent visitor to Fredrick's house over the next months. Even after it warmed up, he would often come over for a meal or two, and as time passed, he spent entire weekends there, without anyone noticing. Slowly, but surely, he opened up to the man, who treated his ever increasing trust with a great deal of respect and a touch of awe, that a boy so mistreated could even understand what it meant to trust. Harry started talking more around him, and he made sure to always respond to anything he said, no matter how casual or silly. And Harry was often silly; in the manner of a five year old, everything was funny, and he wanted to share everything with the only person he had who cared about him at all.
"Bir'day!" Harry exclaimed happily as he crossed the threshold into the delightfully cinnamon scented kitchen.
"It's your birthday?" Harry nodded. "Say it. 'It's my birthday."
"It's my birthday," Harry repeated dutifully, still smiling. Fredrick smiled.
"Happy birthday, pequeño." Fredrick said smiling. "And for a birthday present, I have a question for you." Harry looked at him quizzically. "Would you like to stay here with me?" Harry's eyes grew wide.
"Really? You mean it?!" he asked excitedly. Fredrick chuckled.
"Yes, I mean it. But you wouldn't get to play around all the time like you do now. You'd be learning even more than you do at school." Harry frowned.
"Can't learn much at school anyway. If I best Dudley, Uncl' Vernon get mad."
"Uncle Vernon gets mad," Fredrick corrected.
"Uncle Vernon gets mad." Fredrick nodded for him to continue. "I really like school, but I get so bored." Fredrick chuckled.
"Well, I can promise you won't be bored here. We'll learn some math, and some spelling, and some language, and science, and history, and music, and art; we'll just make you an all-around well educated gentleman!" Fredrick smiled at him, and Harry smiled back.
"I'd like that. I'd love to stay here with you."
"Did anyone see you coming here?" Harry shook his head.
"Nobody cares what I do. Unless I'm bleeding or something, it's like they don't even see me. But no, I didn't see anyone on my way here. Why?" Fredrick sighed.
"Because. It won't exactly be legal for you to stay here. They'd call me a kidnapper, even though you wanted to stay with me. You can't let anyone see you, or they'll come and take you back to your aunt and uncle." Harry nodded again, eyes wide. He didn't want to go back to his aunt and uncle, ever.