TITLE: Simplicity of the Soul
AUTHOR: lmeden
PAIRING: none (for now)
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: none
DISCLAIMER: Not mine.
SUMMARY: Harry Potter is deaf.
NOTE: Alright. So this was completely inspired by Sasaki Kojiro from the manga "Vagabond" (.com/manga/vagabond/). It's a completely stunning manga, and I was inspired beyond belief by Sasaki. I wanted to write what he experience, and see how a character who was deaf, but knew no sign language or really way of communication, would live. I actually want to write an original novel under that theme. But I decided to practice with fanfiction first.
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Professor McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry frowned at small, identical houses that ran down the street, She had been watching the Dursley family - as a cat, no need to worry anyone unduly - for the entire day. She had not liked what she had seen. The Dursley father - Vernon, by all accounts - was a fat, snobbish man who delighted in his own presence. The woman was rather unattractive as well, like a particularly bad kind of shrew. The professor found it extremely hard to believe that the woman had ever been related to Lily.
She pursed her lips and frowned. The street lamps had just popped on. She glanced around but couldn't see anyone else on the street. So she transformed back to her human self and straightened her robes. The Headmaster would be here soon.
And then, mere instants later, the air shivered and cracked, and Headmaster Dumbledore appeared. He rummaged about in his robes, then pulled out a small silver object. As he held it up, every light on the street dimmed and went out. Professor McGonagall walked towards the old man.
"I'm glad that you've finally come. Hagrid said that you were coming, but not when. I've been waiting all day." He turned his eyes on her and raised his eyebrows slightly. She blushed and looked away.
"Yes," he mused. "I suppose that sitting around here all day would be enough to make anyone stiff." They walked along the street in silence for a moment.
Unable to resist and longer, Professor McGonagall spoke. "So, is it true...the rumors about James and Lily? Are they...?"
"Yes, they are dead. By Voldemort's own hand, it seems. But," he said, holding up a hand to forestall any further questions, "Harry lives."
"How?" gasped McGonagall, the first sign of any feeling besides disapproval that she had shown.
"That is a mystery, like all things, my good professor." With that the Headmaster pulled a small watch from his pocket and checked it. "Hargid is late." He stared up at the skies, his eyes serious over half-moon glasses.
The professor stared at him. "And you're bringing Harry here, to live with...them?" She waved her hand wildly at one of the small, identical houses that sat on the drive. "They're horrible. They don't care about James and Lily, they don't care about anything except themselves."
"Perhaps not, Minerva, but they will not cast Harry aside. I can be sure of that, at least." The last bit was a whisper that Professor McGonagall could not be sure she had heard correctly. "And at least here, Harry will not be worshipped as a savior. He will be a normal boy, without any responsibilities." His smile was sad as he turned to her. "And that is the best thing that I can give him."
There was a sudden rumbling and a motorcycle came flying towards them, ridden by a great giant of a man with bushy hair. He rode the bike as if it was seated firmly on the earth, and landed it smoothly on the road next to the two professors. There was a small bundle in his arms. As he clambered off the bike, Professor McGonagall reached forward and took the child.
He was small, she noted, with an angry red scar on his forehead. She had thought that he was asleep, but he watched her with calm green eyes. She turned to Hagrid - she knew how careless he could be. "What happened to him? He did not have this scar last I saw him."
Hagrid shook his head. "Had it when I picked him up, he did. Dunno more'n that." The Headmaster leaned forward to take a look. He stared at the scar for a long moment.
"A...leftover from Voldemort's attempt to kill him, I fear. I doubt that it will ever fade." And though the Dark Lord had been defeated the night before, and the streets of Wizarding London were filled with song, the Headmaster looked as though the entire world was weighing on him. He gestured and the three of them began to walk towards 4 Privet Drive.
"He was real good, ya know," Hagrid rambled. "Was sleepin' when I got to the house, and it was near fallin' apart. Woke up later, when the bike took off. 'E watched the sky for the whole ride. Ah could swear 'e didn't blink a' all."
Professor McGonagall frowned at the man. Her frown faded as she looked back down at the child in her arms. He was indeed very quiet. She was almost worried for a moment, but when she shifted him his eyes turned to her, before looking back at the stars far above. Then they were at the doorstep of the house.
The Headmaster held out his arms and took Harry from the professor. He looked at the small boy, then laid him down on the step. He reached into his robes and took out a small piece of folded parchment that he tucked into the bundle of blankets. Harry reached out a small hand and closed it carefully around the letter.
The adults soon left him, quiet on the step. Hargid drove the motorcycle - which wasn't his own - away, Professor McGonagall slunk around the corner as a cat, and the Headmaster apparated away, nearly soundlessly.
The small boy held onto his letter and watched the stars, slowly drifting off to sleep. He had not seen Lord Voldemort kill his parents. He had not heard the attack at all, had not heard his father's cries or his mother's pleading. He had not heard Voldemort's shriek as he died by his own Killing Curse. Harry had slept soundly that night, as he would for every night of his life.
For Harry Potter was deaf, and very alone.
AN: Don't expect frequent updates here. The chapters are hefty, and I'm only halfway through the first one. I just wanted to get started.