3.
He'd always been a sickly boy. Almost died hundreds of times, sneezed himself to death, coughed himself into comas, hell, Harry James Potter had almost breathed himself into oblivion.
Small, pale, but given bright green eyes, the colour of Avada, and the colour of death. Born out of death, born into the death. Eyes of death.
His aunt and uncle had brought him up, and paid his expensive medical bills even though they shouldn't've.
He wasn't allowed to ask questions, but his room was always spotless and there was always a glass of water, his Dramamine and Zyrtec on his bedside table, next to his inhaler and emergency oxygen tube.
Note.
"Have taken Dudley out to the Zoo. Will be home by seven. For God's sake boy, don't blow up the television."
And Harry had glared, the force of it almost bringing on a coughing fit.
Drop note, take inhaler.
Puff.
Breathe.
One, two.
In, out.
Turn back 'round.
Ashes on his nightstand.
-- --
"Oi Mum! Ickle Ronnikins' finally showing 'is magic!"
"His magic, Fred dear. Really Ron? Go on, give us a look-see."
"Watch then, all of you!" Ginny had yelled loudly. "Gather 'round! The amaaaazing Ronald Weasley does his first spell! That'll be five knuts, won't it George? Give over, Mum, Dad."
As the youngest, Ginny was still cute enough to order her parents around. Fred and George were devious, and in Hogwarts already. Bill and Charlie were supporting themselves. Percy was top in all his classes. Ron was the Weasley who hadn't gotten his magic until he was ten.
"Watch me change the colour of this parchment!" He'd giggled gleefully, and they'd watched him.
Ron concentrated hard, glaring at the tiny scrap of parchment, squinting, and twitching his nose.
"There, see!"
"I don't see a bleeding thing!"
"George!"
"Yes, yes it's cream! Not off-white anymore, but cream!"
"What a bloody fob. Rubbish, Ron."
"Ginny!"
"You see it, don't you Mum? It's gone cream, hasn't it?"
"Oh yes, darling, what a lovely trick." Exchange of glances between parents.
"Bloody thing hasn't changed colours, at all." Ginny sniffed, stalking off. Ron glared at them all before tears crystallized in the corners of his blue eyes.
"It's really wonderful, Ron." Mr. Weasley tried.
"Useless. I'm useless."
Run away.
Cry.
Don't let them see.
They'll never forgive you for it.
-- --
She was born with a full head of hair.
It was blonde, surprisingly. Blonde, but thick.
According to her Dad, she looked less like her current self than he did. They'd thought that she'd had green eyes, but when they left and her eyes were brown, and then flashed green, they noted that her eyes were reflecting the blanket they'd put her in after her mother had birthed her.
Before her first birthday, her hair had darkened, and curled. By four she had thick bushy hair, and a wicked, toothy grin.
Age nine, she'd turned her bathwater into blood in a fit of childish rage. Her parents had screamed and she'd pitied them and turned the bathwater back again.
Two years after, she'd gotten her letter.
Hermione Jean Granger was a witch.
-- --
"Lucius Malfoy is a piece of bloody gobshite." Pansy had said, an angelic smile on her face. Bertha Parkinson's jaw had dropped, and she'd yelled to wake the dead.
But not Ben.
She'd never wake Ben again.
"Yes my dearest?" Oswald had remarked dryly, and Bertha had pointed her finger dramatically to her daughter's pudgy face.
"Pansy dearest, what have you learnt this week?" She'd asked, just like she had before.
"Lucius Malfoy is a piece of bloody gobshite!" She'd grinned, and Oswald had drained of colour.
"Oh bugger, sweetheart—"
"BUGGER SWEETHEART!"
"Oswald!"
"Shut up, Pansy—"
"DON'T TELL YOUR BLOODY DAUGHTER TO SHUT UP!"
"Don't tell your BLOODY DAUGHTER to shut up!"
"Oh Bertha, not showing Pansy a good example, hmm?"
"Oh do be quiet Oswald, now you're just being difficult,"
"Just not used to dealing with toddling babes, are we Berthy?"
"Well it wasn't as difficult with Ben—"
Silence.
"Ben! BEN! BEN BEN BEN MY BEN I WANT BEN!" And Pansy wailed. Bertha and Oswald shuttered back on.
"Put her to bed. I'll get Trixie to make dinner." Bertha turned away, and left the room.
"Ben?" Pansy had asked.
"No Ben. There is no Ben."
"No Ben." Pansy had repeated, and slowly fell asleep.
-- --
a/n-These aren't so much chapters as chapterlets, but that means I'll spit them out faster. Mainly insight into the lives of the Harry Potter-lets (very un-original Author's note, yes I know), this chapter. Next chapter more insight into the James/Lily/Snape/Dumblydorr plot. As you can tell, Harry is obviously alive so WTF is happening, right?
Peaches,
Anya
