Bright eyes stared out at the darkness, no light reaching the small cupboard, loud wails spilled out of the small child's mouth and nobody in the house cared, the occupants preoccupied with their fussy son. A soft whistling sound akin to the wind and a tail gently slid across the child's nose, strong fists reaching up with a little giggle. Instead of grasping and squeezing like the normal child would have, the bright eyed boy gently ran his pale fingers across the soft striped fur of the cat that appeared, settling by him with a lick to his chin. Cheshire said nothing just curling around the cold child and purring softly, a low hum that built in the creatures chest.
Seven years later
The same cupboard but seven years older the child was curled up in a thin ratty blanket that had been washed so much it was almost colourless. The child was painfully thin, his pale white face marred by a thin cut across his eye and a discoloured patch of skin at the corner of his bright red lips. His fingernails scratched softly at his arm, clawing away at the soft arms until they were red raw and bleeding slightly. He stopped, head jerking as a paw gently touched his arm, a soft chuckle sounding as Cheshire appeared. "Oh little one." He said, his tone mocking as he gently slid his tail across the child's face. "You mustn't do that or the Jabberwocky will come and get you."
"Jabberwocky?" The child mumbled, his face turning towards Cheshire but his eyes looking oh-so slightly past him. Cheshire purred with a grin and settled into the child's lap.
"Mhmm. What a frightening creature." Cheshire's eyes glowed and his smile grew. "Child let me tell you a story.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe." Cheshire fell silent, his tail moving slowly.
Child didn't move, his hand paused mid scratch, his nails bloodied and dirty and his fingers pale and long like an artists. "Why do you call yourself Cheshire?" Child murmured, eyes wide and staring as they looked past Cheshire.
"I think." Cheshire said, standing up with a languid stretch. "The question you should ask is, why are you always locked away in the dark, dark cupboard?"
"Don't ask a question with another question." Child said by way of an answer. "Its time to go, Cheshire." The cat nodded softly, stroking Child's face with a gentle paw. "Tell Hatter and the White Queen I said hello."
"Goodbye, little one. Until we meet again." Cheshire cooed with a smile.
A further 8 years later (Child is 16 years old)
Child sat in a different place this time, his eyes wide and staring and his face covered with new cuts and bruises that spread down his neck and chest. He turned his head slightly, ear cocked to listen. He laughed at something and then reached out a hand on which two paws stepped on, followed quickly be the other two. He turned his head with an eccentric grin. "Is it time, Cheshire?" His voice raspy with disuse.
"Yes." Cheshire said, fading away with a loud sinister laugh. Child lifted a knife from under his pillow, sliding up to his feet with a shiver-inducing smirk he brought the knife to his face and gently licked along the blunt of the blade. A grin worthy of Cheshire splitting his cheeks as he slid through the darkness of the small room, moonlight making his eyes glow an unnatural green. The door was easily opened, a casual flick of his wrist did the trick, and we moved like the wind towards the bedroom labelled 'Dudley Dursley'.
The huge boy was stretched out on his bed snoring loudly into his pillow, his mouth open and dripping saliva onto his pillow. Child held the knife in his teeth, one hand reaching up to Dudley's shoulder to wake him and the other gently pressing a sock into Dudley's mouth and placing his hand over it. The fat boy awoke drowsily, his eyes going wide as he saw the figure standing over the bed. A gentle hand withdrew the knife from between Child's teeth and he curled it so it hit the light his grin turning lustful as he placed a finger on the tip of the blade. He was quick, a ruler straight slice to the throat and his jugular burst, spilling blood out onto the sheets. Dudley Dursley died in seconds.
Child smiled his smile and gentle cooed. "Good night, Dudley." He softly shut the door, holding a finger to his lips and shushing someone, looking around at whatever he was seeing and tutting. "Mustn't wake the little piglet." He giggled, stepping towards the door at the end of the corridor lightly, almost dancing as he did so, his fingernails tapping against the wood as he cooed through the cap. "Oh Uncle Vernon. Wake up Mr Walrus, its time to play."
The door opened as Child turned the handle, pushing into the room and slithering over to Vernon, holding the knife high and slamming into Vernon once in the windpipe and then in the chest, breaking through bone until the cold steeling slammed into bone. Petunia didn't even wake, sleeping soundly in her bed. Child turned to her and crouched, kissing her brow with almost-fondness, lifting her hand and wrapping it around the knife, waving his wrist slightly towards the door to cause the fingerprints he had left to disappear.
Cheshire appear, settling onto his shoulder with a chuckle. He murmured softly into Child's ear. "Lets go, little one." Child, known to the world as Harry Potter, disappeared with a whoosh of wind.
Child appeared at a clearing, sitting at a long table next to a startlingly bright haired man with huge eyes. He stared into his teacup, using a long finger to stir it even as he tapped the spoon against the rim of the cracked cup. Child turned to see a crazy rabbit pulling at his ears, worry in his red eyes and a small dormouse clutching her sword gently.
"Hatter." Child whispered to himself. Leaping up and gently wrapping his arms around the quiet man. Bright green eyes pierced him and he smiled, dropping the knife to the forest floor. "Why do you hurt, Hatter?"
"Alice." He murmured listlessly. Child snarled his voice low and dangerous as he spoke.
"The little wench left?" He hissed between his bared teeth, his eyes wild and burning with rage. Hatter whimpered softly and Child softened, gently putting the tea on the table as he wrapped his arms around the crazed hat maker. At the other end of the table Cheshire appeared with his normal smile, picking up some tea and dropping in a sugar.
"It is time." Absolem said from nowhere, a breeze rolling through the place as Cheshire laughed hauntingly.
Authors Note: This was so fun to write! Tell me what pairings you want and review! Sorry for any mistakes, I am beta-less.
