Blood Sings to Blood
AN: I'm assuming that most readers are more familiar with the HP side of things, so please bear with me as I'm describing the BJT side a bit more than the HP.
AN2: I'm going to be trying to write this as part of NaNoWriMo2017 (meaning approximately 1667 words per day). But with work, I have no idea if I'll actually succeed. I'll do my best! +cue dramatic pose+
Prologue: Freak
***BJT—HP—BJT***
Large things start from small things. Like a snowball, no bigger than your palm, rolling down a hill, gathering more snow as it travels, to create a large boulder wider than your shoulders. Or a tiny pebble being dropped into a pond to create ever-growing ripples outward, effecting even far away bits of debris.
In our story, it all started with a song…
***BJT—HP—BJT***
Every Christmas and Easter the Dursley's went to their local church. This particular Easter, Petunia was in a frantic search for a babysitter to watch her nephew. Their regular sitter had recently moved away and Mrs. Figg had gone to visit relatives. After calling all their neighbors to see if they could mind the boy and getting nowhere, Petunia gave up with a loud growl and slamming of a phone into its cradle. "We'll have to bring the freak, Vernon. Everyone is either going to church or visiting family."
Little Freak perked up in his cupboard as he listened intently. He would get to go to church? He had never been allowed inside before. Only good little boys and girls got to go inside. And no matter how hard he tried to be good, Freak never seemed to be good enough. He had to be content with staring transfixed at the exterior of the grand building and its beautiful stained-glass windows. But perhaps this year he had been good enough to go inside? Freak let out a tiny happy sound at the very thought.
Petunia jerked open the cupboard door and hauled Freak out into the hall as he blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness. She yanked his dirty over-sized shirt, tied around his waist with a length of rope, off quickly, mindless of any distress she may be causing to the tiny five year old. "Go wash up!" Freak reacted to the command with no hesitation. He knew better. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard her continue. "No hot water, freak, or else!"
Freak knew the rules of his relatives and in excited short order, less than five minutes even, he came out of the shower clean and pink from cold. He dried off just as quickly and darted back down to his aunt for more instructions. Despite it all, his heart was light and happy at the thought of actually being able to go in the pretty church!
Petunia had a different set of clothes in her arms by this point and she proceeded to yank them onto the boy. Swift jerking movements straightened the articles, though did nothing to hide the many wrinkles. The clothes were still too big for him, but only slightly as she had gotten them from a neighbor who had a boy about the same size, and they were clean. She roughly tried to tame her nephew's wild ebony hair with no avail. Finally, she huffed out an exasperated groan, "It'll have to do." Then she went off to give her adored spoiled son a look-over, determined that Dudley would look so much better than her freak of a nephew.
Freak peered down at his clothes in awe. He had on a bright white button long sleeve shirt, the sleeves rolled up several times so that he could see his fingers. A shiny black belt held up the two sizes too big black slacks, the cuffs also turned up so that he wouldn't trip as he walked. The pants were still long enough to hide the fact that he wore no shoes. He had never looked so nice before! He hugged his middle in his happiness, shaking back and forth in place as he waited for more instructions.
He didn't have to wait long. Vernon came down the stairs, grabbed the boy roughly by the shoulders and shook him. "Listen to me, boy." He growled darkly. "Any funny business, any at all, and you will get double chores and you won't eat for a week! You won't speak to anyone! You are going to pretend that you don't exist! Do you hear me?!"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Freak answered meekly, his smile gone.
"Good! Now get in the car!" Vernon seemed incapable of doing anything but shout. He was always shouting everything he said to Freak, no matter what it was.
Freak didn't care though. He didn't remember a life that was any different. This was the way his uncle always spoke to him. The way his aunt always acted around him. He wondered what would happen when he was finally able to go to school. Were freaks allowed to go to school? Would the other children treat him like Dudley did? Would the other adults yell at Freak too? He didn't know.
He followed his uncle's instructions very carefully. He hadn't eaten today and was very hungry. He didn't want to go another week without food. So, he was silent and hunched his shoulders to make himself as small as possible while he followed his relatives up the church steps at a respectable distance where people wouldn't think he was with them. He took a seat at the far end of the very back row. He quite liked it, actually. It let him see all the colorful stained glass windows, which he now could see were of people with wings.
The one closest to him was his favorite. It was of a golden haired lady who smiled down at those seated. The smile was such that it seemed like she smiled just for Freak and made his heart lighten. The lady had a small boy by the hand. A boy that looked a lot like Freak: short dark hair with marks on his back and legs. Freak couldn't see the boy's eyes because the boy's face was turned toward the lady, but Freak imagined that the boy was laughing. How could the boy be doing anything else when such a pretty lady smiled at him? Seemed to actually care about the boy?
As Freak contemplated where the golden haired lady was taking the boy, he heard music start to play. It was just as pretty as the lady! So, he listened closely to the words.
I was walkin' home from school on a cold winter day.
Took a shortcut through the woods and I lost my way.
It was getting' late, and I was scared, and alone.
Then a kind old man took my hand and led me home.
Mama couldn't see him, oh but he was standing there.
And I knew in my heart, he was the answer to my prayer.
Oh, I believe there are angels among us.
Sent down to us from somewhere up above.
They come to you and me, in our darkest hour.
To show us how to live. To teach us how to give.
To guide us with a light of love.
Freak's eyes were wide as he listened intently. The man singing said that anyone could get an angel! Not just good children, but anyone! That meant that he could have an angel!
They wear so many faces; show up in the strangest places.
And grace us with their mercies in our time of need.
Oh, I believe there are angels among us.
Sent down to us from somewhere up above.
They come to you and me, in our darkest hour.
To show us how to live. To teach us how to give.
To guide us with a light of love.
To guide us with a light of love.
Freak knew he had missed some of the middle bits from shock at the idea that even freaks could have an angel. He didn't quite know what an angel was, but if they were anything like the pretty lady in the window, then they had to be wonderful! Would his angel treat him like Petunia treated Dudley? With hugs and kisses and tucking in at night? Oh, Freak hoped so.
The only bad part was the song said that he had to wait for 'his darkest hour', whatever that meant, before his angel would show up. He supposed that made sense. With so many people in the world, angels were sure to be super busy helping all the normal people! That was okay, Freak decided with a firm nod, he could wait. He would wait…for however long he needed.
***BJT—HP—BJT***
That was the only time Freak, who later learned that he had to answer to 'Harry' at school, ever got to go to church. He cherished the memory fiercely, often bringing it out at night when he was locked in his cupboard. He liked to remember the pretty lady's smile as he drifted off to sleep. It was the only memory he had of someone smiling at him.
School hadn't been much different at all. Dudley told everyone that he was really Freak. So the children stayed away from him. Or the boys in Dudley's gang chased him around, hitting him whenever they were able to catch him. The teacher had called in Petunia and Vernon on the first day of kindergarten because he had insisted his name was 'Freak'. The teacher got really angry, though at first she didn't seem to be angry at him. That changed after her meeting with his aunt and uncle. Then the teacher, just like all the other adults, believed that he was a freak and treated him as such. No bathing for two weeks was the punishment for not answering to 'Harry'. Freak learned the new rules as quickly as he could to avoid any food-related consequences.
The no bathing had made sure that any children who might have gone against Dudley and tried to be Freak's friend were too disgusted by the smell to even get close.
The only good thing about school was learning. After the first test when he had done better than Dudley, Freak gained a couple more scars to remind him to hide what he knew. He made sure to know not only the right answers, but how much Dudley knew so that Freak could consistently score lower than his cousin at all times.
However, there was one place where Freak could escape Dudley and his gang. It was a magical land where anything could happen. The Library. Once Freak understood that as long as he was quiet and respectful of the books the minder wasn't irritated by him coming in at recess, Freak spent every moment outside the classroom in the library.
The first thing he read about was angels. Anything and everything he could get his hands on. It took him several painstaking months to read all the books on the subject. Since he was forbidden from taking notes, for that meant he was trying to do better than Dudley who never partook in such plebian things, Freak worked hard to memorize everything he could. Reading things twice or more to make sure he didn't forget anything.
When Freak lay awake in his cupboard at night, he would think about what he had read. He noticed that while Christianity had a lot of stuff on angels, they weren't the only religion that had the beings. Angels were documented in all parts of the world, at lots of different points in history. Not all religions had angels though. So that meant, from what Freak could discern, that angels had to be real, but not all religions were real. Therefore, he would discount all the religious stuff, for it would be too difficult and take too much time to figure out which religion was the true one, and just focus on the angels.
Angels came in all sorts of shapes, wings, weapons, and duties. Freak soaked up them all. And with angels came demons. Freak reasoned that those two were like night and day. You couldn't have one without the other. He also noticed that demons were seen even more than angels! That had to mean that there were more demons. Which meant that the reason his angel hadn't come gotten him yet was because she was super busy! Because angels didn't just help people at their darkest hour, angels also fought demons.
Freak hoped that his angel eventually had time, when she was done fighting for a little while and all the non-freaks were taken care of, to come rescue him. That he would one day see that pretty lady's smile in reality instead of out of a window or in his memories.
***BJT—HP—BJT***
Freak came home from school one day to find his uncle pissing drunk. Freak listened and, hearing nothing in the rest of the house, remembered it was Petunia's Ladies Night Out. On those days, Dudley had permission to stay over at his best friend's Piers Polkiss', whose mother was usually too busy to go to the Ladies Night Out.
Which meant that Freak would be alone in the house with a drunk Vernon; something that had never happened before. Freak didn't remember any rules that would apply in this situation except for the usual one: obey. With that in mind, he went ahead and did his usual daily chores of weeding, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, and making dinner. The meal finished and served on the table, Freak hesitantly moved to his lightly snoozing relative. "Uncle Vernon? There's steak and eggs."
At the mention of food, the man darted awake with a snort. Bleary eyes took a couple of seconds to focus on his nephew. When they did, Freak trembled at the absolute rage he saw there.
"YOU! I almost got sacked because of you!" Vernon screamed. His meaty paw darted out to grab the boy and shook him so hard that Freak had a difficult time focusing since nothing seemed to hold still. "It's all your fault!" Another yell. The hand that wasn't holding Freak went to unbuckle the belt. Freak shook, knowing what was coming. It had happened before.
Freak held his breath as much as he could, choking back pain-filled cries. The beating seemed to go on forever, until he could no longer hold himself back. He began to scream. "Don't you dare boy! Shut your mouth!" Freak tried to obey, knowing it would only be worse if he didn't, but he had lost count of how many times he had been struck with the buckle-end. He could feel blood running down his back. Knew that his shirt was in tatters. "Shut UP! Or I'll give you something to scream about!" Freak's teeth clacked together as he used all his willpower to do as bid… It wasn't enough. Another three strokes and he once again began to scream. "That's it freak! I've had enough of you!"
When the belt ceased its assault, Freak collapsed onto the floor in relief, his torso laying in his own blood, which he knew he'd have to clean up later. It was over… Wait. What was Uncle doing? Freak felt Vernon position him back onto his knees, though his chest was left on the floor, and his pants were ripped off his body. The pain, as if he were being ripped in two, was enough that his mind could no longer handle it and he blacked out.
His eyes blinked open to the darkness of his cupboard. His body ached in places he didn't know were possible. His back was on fire, but nothing compared to his butt. There in the meager light filtering in from the slats, Freak silently cried. He had read lots of books. He knew what his uncle had done. Fat tears fell as he wrapped his arms around his knees. His heart screamed as never before, yelling wordlessly into the dark expanse of his mind, though no sound escaped his lips. Wasn't his angel supposed to save him? Would his angel even want to, now that his uncle had done…that?
Freak threw the thought out into the unworldly inky blackness that only his mind's eye had ever seen. He screamed as loudly as he could, putting all of the pain, shame, and sorrow into the sound that he could never voice aloud. He screamed for long moments, a seemingly unending noise of agony. Finally, his mind quieted into a false calm where thought abandoned him.
It was in this drifting silence that he felt…something. Something in the black abyss that wasn't him. Someone maybe? Had his angel finally come? *Please. I know you're really busy with more important people…people who aren't freaks…but I've waited so long. Please?* his mind called out into the darkness. He had the sense that the someone knew he was there, heard his heart-felt plea.
Long minutes and he was about to give up hope, that his angel was still too busy, when suddenly, between one breath and the next, there was a lady right there in front of him! She was beautiful! Short white-gold hair crowned her deep sapphire eyes staring at him. She had a small white spiral horn in the middle of her forehead. A fuzzy white fur covered her naked body, the only semblance of modesty, all the way down to two dainty hooves. Her blue-blue orbs roamed his body, seeing all his injuries, seeming to stare into him seeing things no one had ever bothered to look for before. Finally they meet his eyes again, a decision made. *Hello little one.*
Freak felt tears pour down his cheeks in relief as his angel finally came for him. *Are you going to take me away now?*
*Would you like me to?* that velvet-covered midnight voice asked him gently. He nodded so fast and vigorously it pulled his barely-healing back. She gave him a soft smile and held out her hand, careful of the black claws that tipped her fingers. *Then I'll take you to my home…* Her fingers brushed a sweat-coated wisp of hair away from his forehead. *You don't ever have to come back here again if you don't want to. I promise.*
***BJT—HP—BJT***
Read and review please?