Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.
a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!
The time frame for this chapter is skewed again. *sigh* in fact, this entire story has pretty choppy time frames. It cranks up the plot but makes everything a bit confusing, I'm playing with overlapping time frames again so they don't all go in order. You've all had great responses the last time I tried it, ummm… hopefully, this time, it's not overdone.
Of Western Stars
By neutral
Chapter ten - of unpleasant revelations
Remus knocked on the door perhaps harder than necessary, but the fear for his best friend's son was rapidly turning into regret. He should have ran after Harry yesterday, but he had been so shocked then. He spent all night tossing and turning, and came as soon as it was daylight.
Something wasn't making any sense. That fear and pain in Harry's eyes…
Remus grinded his fist against the wood in an effort to vent his frustration. The door flew open, and a bleary eyed thick necked man stood, glaring at him scornfully.
"What?!" Vernon snapped.
Remus blinked. He was crankier than usual. "Mr. Dursley, I have some questions regarding Harry…"
"That boy!!" Vernon's face seemed to bloat and stain into an alarming shade of purple. "Don't speak of him in front of me!"
Remus took a step back in surprise. "Pardon?"
"That boy, that freak… ran away last night!" Vernon hissed.
Remus gaped. Harry, running away? That wasn't like that shy little boy at all.
"What?" he whispered incredulously. "Are you sure about that?"
Vernon only grunted, looking ready to slam the door against his face again. Remus quickly raised a halting hand, concerned. With the threat of Sirius growing, Harry's survival would be quite grim.
"Where is he? Is he alright?" Remus asked.
"Where? Where?! Do you think I'd still be here if I knew where he was? I'd drive after him and run him over!" Vernon's anger was obvious clouding his judgment. Remus barely hid a scowl, holding back the fist that was itching to plant itself in the man's fat face. "That freak stole my son's clothes, my clothes, food, the first aide kit, and six hundred pounds… six hundred pounds!! That boy was up to something, I should have known it! He was running off to the park all this week, playing with some dog, Dudley says…"
Remus almost stumbled in shock and horror. He caught the doorframe to steady himself. "Dog?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Yes!" Vernon continued, spluttering in his fury. "Dudley says he saw that freak running around the block with some huge black dog that was as large as him or something…"
"Dudley," Remus interrupted. "May I speak to Dudley?"
Vernon frowned. "Well, I suppose. But I don't see how that…"
Remus pushed past him, not bothering to hear the rest of his words. He rushed into the living room, a bit surprised at the sight of a boy the size of a miniature whale. The differences between him and Harry were disorienting.
The boy glanced up at him idly, a piece of oily bacon poking out for the corner of his mouth. "Who're you?" he grumbled.
Remus waved the rude question aside. "Dudley, when did you see the large dog that Harry was with?"
Dudley grinned widely, looking pleased at possibly getting Harry into some more trouble. "On Tuesday, about a week ago. He was walking to Mrs. Figg's house or something."
Tuesday? Sirius had been here that long? But that was impossible by foot! Unless…
"Was the dog attacking him? Did you see it hurt Harry in any way?" Remus asked desperately.
Dudley's eyes narrowed. "No, but I wish did. Then Harry wouldn't be running off with my food for that stupid dog."
"Harry was…," Remus trailed off, eyes widening in disbelief.
Harry was helping Sirius, the very person who doomed his parents to death? How was that possible? But it made sense, the way Harry only ate the fries and saved the burger of his small meal, the growing thinness each day.
Sirius, you bastard, Remus scowled inwardly. You're completely taking advantage of the poor boy's naiveté. You're using him, lying to him, fooling him, using his loneliness against him.
"It followed him everywhere," Dudley continued. "It didn't hurt him though."
"Should have killed him when it had the chance," Vernon growled, listening to his son's words with mounting anger. "I should have broken both his legs yesterday!"
That was too much. Remus could feel something within him snap. With a burst of inhuman strength, he slammed his hand against the table, feeling the wood make a distinct groan beneath it.
"What are you saying? Mr. Dursley, that is no way to speak of your nephew!" Remus nearly shouted. "If you had treated him better, then perhaps he wouldn't have ran! All this was…" he paused. There was a distinct bitter tang in the air that his wolf senses picked up that reminded him suspiciously of…
"Blood," Remus choked out, catching sight of the stain of red beside the closed door of the cupboard under the stairs.
Vernon abruptly stilled. He shifted, blocking the stairs from Remus' sight. "Now, I don't know what you're talking…"
But Remus wasn't listening. He pushed past Vernon firmly, almost knocking the man twice his size to the floor. The bittersweet smell was becoming stronger; Remus stopped at the door, opening the cupboard slowly. The scent of blood was suffocating then, washing over him and drowning him in its thickness. But all this disappeared from his mind the moment he caught sight of the blankets.
"This," Remus jerked the sheet free, stained with strips of dried blood. He lifted it up for Vernon to see. "is Harry's, isn't it?"
Vernon paled.
"You beat him, didn't you?" Remus growled, his voice dangerously soft. These days he kept careful watch in fear that Sirius would somehow hurt Harry, he completely overlooked the very family that Harry needed to be protected against! He had been so blind…
Vernon said nothing, but the strangely satisfied gleam in his eye gave him away instantly.
"I can't believe I didn't notice this sooner! You lock him in a cupboard," Remus almost shouted, slamming the door shut with a force that cracked the wooden frame. "Then you abuse him. You tell everyone how worthless and evil he is. How long have this been? Two years? Three years? Since he arrived in this… this family?"
Vernon seemed to finally find his voice. His eyes narrowed, and he backed away from the seething man cautiously. "You don't understand that boy. He's… he's a freak. He's abnormal."
"Harry's just a boy! How can you say those things?" Remus asked incredulously.
"That boy stole six hundred pounds from my wallet!" Vernon snapped.
"And you deserve to be sued for everything you own for what you did to Harry!" Remus gritted out, his hand trembling as it gripped the bloodstained blanket.
Vernon shut up instantly; he seemed genuinely frightened at that thought. He took another step back, pressing against the wall and staying as far away as possible.
"Listen," he said slowly as if Remus was a little child. "That boy is… a freak. He got what he deserved…"
A resounding crack rang through the room.
Remus drew a sharp breath, trying hard to control the furious trembling in his limbs, nursing a sore fist. Blood was pounding loudly in his ears; he could almost feel his heart pumping erratically with the rage coursing through his veins. Vernon lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, a mass of fat and linen. The lycanthrope enhanced strength was hard to control with such anger; Remus had struck him so hard that Vernon broke the corner of his wooden breakfast table when he fell. Dudley squeaked, hobbling off the chair and running upstairs. All the walls of the flimsy house creaked under his weight.
Remus scowled, hand shaking as he folded the thin and tattered sheet, placing it securely in his pocket. His wand was right there beside it, so tempting, so enticing, he wanted to avada kedevra the muggle right then and there. He had to leave. He had to leave before he did something he seriously regretted. It was so many years since he lost his tempter…
A gleam of light against polished wood.
Remus glanced up, catching sight of the small coffee table beside the sofa. There was something about it that bothered him. He approached it, ignoring the senseless lump of Vernon Dursley nearby, kneeling to examine the article closer. Bloodied fingerprints lined the edge of the wood, fingers too long to belong to a child, too thin to belong to Vernon.
No...
*six hours prior*
Sirius was close to panic when he returned, only to find the grass around him cold and empty. He wasn't even sure when the child left or where he could go. He couldn't have been going back, those people abuse him, could he? But Sirius already knew with a sinking heart that he would; the child accepted it and he had no where else to go. At the calm exterior Harry presented, Sirius couldn't help but wonder if it was a common occurrence.
He had startled off immediately in the direction of Four Privet Drive after that sneaking suspicion.
If they even touched Harry again, he was going to kill them! He was going to slit their throats in their bed, who cared about what others would say. Those damn muggles…
But Harry had never led him to the house before, and the muggle community was a myriad of branching streets. He paced the ground agitatedly, trying to discern the child's scent. He didn't even wonder the reactions of the children who saw a bear-like dog, or consider the possibility of Remus nearby. All he could think of was Harry limping painfully, hurt and vulnerable through the streets.
Sirius had followed it easily enough, but the moment he reached open ground, so many others trampled over and mixed into it. It took hours just finding his way out of the park, and by the time he reached his destination, it was past midnight.
Sirius paused in front of a rather drab, white house with small windows. He transformed in front of the door, either oblivious or just careless to the possible neighbors who would be looking out their windows in the middle of the night. Fished a paperclip out of his pocket, something he picked up running through the streets, and twisted the tapered end in the lock. His hand shaking with rage and apprehension, Sirius barely stopped himself before he flung open the door. He slipped it shut quietly behind him and morphed back into his canine form
… only to catch the bitter scent of blood.
Old blood, about several hours old. But it was thick in the air and permeated through the very walls. Sirius felt as if someone had soaked every inch of his flesh in icy water. He rushed into the living room, following the trail with a kind of frantic desperation.
It couldn't be Harry's could it? He couldn't return after all that, could he? They couldn't be that cruel, could they?
… could they?
He almost missed the cupboard under the stairs, looking anything but conspicuous, in his rush to find Harry. But when the pungent odor nearly suffocated him as he passed, Sirius jerked to an abrupt stop. He stared at the door incredulously. Surely not…
Harry smelled like dusty cupboards. It made sense…
Sirius was standing beside the battered door in an instant, back into his human form. He opened the door apprehensively, not even aware if it creaked or not. The biting tang of blood was so strong that Sirius could detect it even without his canine senses. He creaked the old frame open, and a beam of moonlight seeped into the compartment. Sirius stomach all but disappeared.
"Oh god…"
*
Okay, Remus seems a bit compulsive, doesn't he? I mean, all that screaming and banging doors at the Dursleys, he seems a bit like a Snape Sirius cross. Plus, he punched someone… I mean, in all the fics I've read so far, Remus has always been the one to get punched. *sigh* Well, I was thinking along the lines of Remus not so composed. I mean, after discovering that your best friend's son is being abused probably daily, how can he possibly be calm? Maybe it is… uhh… the moon? Perhaps he has moodswings? Well… okay, I admit it, I kind of got carried away. Ack!! Well, what do you think?
Some random news. I've been having serious trouble with PoM, so the chances of that continuing are rather slim. Well, wait, let me rephrase that. The chances of that continuing soon are slim, because I'm not sure what's going to happen later. I hit sort of a block since I never really planned it out. It was just sort of, a moment's burst of inspiration and I never actually planned the plot. I'm an idiot. I wrote up until chapter 6, and so far, the writing quality is… very poor. *hides* It's going to go in hiding until I manage to produce something halfway decent. So I guess that's good news for WS readers! I won't be spending much time on that fic until I get another burst of inspiration. *grin* I'm open to suggestions or ideas!! Originally, I planned PoM to be a character development fic, not much violence, but it doesn't seem very interesting that way. Urg... well... throw some ideas, and hopefully, I'll get rid of the block... thanks for dealing with my annoying moodswinging writing habits.
Ack!! Bio and math and chem test tomorrow... gotta run before I crash them all.
a/n Story dedicated to Moppet Poppet, Cheating Death's 500th reviewer!
The time frame for this chapter is skewed again. *sigh* in fact, this entire story has pretty choppy time frames. It cranks up the plot but makes everything a bit confusing, I'm playing with overlapping time frames again so they don't all go in order. You've all had great responses the last time I tried it, ummm… hopefully, this time, it's not overdone.
Of Western Stars
By neutral
Chapter ten - of unpleasant revelations
Remus knocked on the door perhaps harder than necessary, but the fear for his best friend's son was rapidly turning into regret. He should have ran after Harry yesterday, but he had been so shocked then. He spent all night tossing and turning, and came as soon as it was daylight.
Something wasn't making any sense. That fear and pain in Harry's eyes…
Remus grinded his fist against the wood in an effort to vent his frustration. The door flew open, and a bleary eyed thick necked man stood, glaring at him scornfully.
"What?!" Vernon snapped.
Remus blinked. He was crankier than usual. "Mr. Dursley, I have some questions regarding Harry…"
"That boy!!" Vernon's face seemed to bloat and stain into an alarming shade of purple. "Don't speak of him in front of me!"
Remus took a step back in surprise. "Pardon?"
"That boy, that freak… ran away last night!" Vernon hissed.
Remus gaped. Harry, running away? That wasn't like that shy little boy at all.
"What?" he whispered incredulously. "Are you sure about that?"
Vernon only grunted, looking ready to slam the door against his face again. Remus quickly raised a halting hand, concerned. With the threat of Sirius growing, Harry's survival would be quite grim.
"Where is he? Is he alright?" Remus asked.
"Where? Where?! Do you think I'd still be here if I knew where he was? I'd drive after him and run him over!" Vernon's anger was obvious clouding his judgment. Remus barely hid a scowl, holding back the fist that was itching to plant itself in the man's fat face. "That freak stole my son's clothes, my clothes, food, the first aide kit, and six hundred pounds… six hundred pounds!! That boy was up to something, I should have known it! He was running off to the park all this week, playing with some dog, Dudley says…"
Remus almost stumbled in shock and horror. He caught the doorframe to steady himself. "Dog?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Yes!" Vernon continued, spluttering in his fury. "Dudley says he saw that freak running around the block with some huge black dog that was as large as him or something…"
"Dudley," Remus interrupted. "May I speak to Dudley?"
Vernon frowned. "Well, I suppose. But I don't see how that…"
Remus pushed past him, not bothering to hear the rest of his words. He rushed into the living room, a bit surprised at the sight of a boy the size of a miniature whale. The differences between him and Harry were disorienting.
The boy glanced up at him idly, a piece of oily bacon poking out for the corner of his mouth. "Who're you?" he grumbled.
Remus waved the rude question aside. "Dudley, when did you see the large dog that Harry was with?"
Dudley grinned widely, looking pleased at possibly getting Harry into some more trouble. "On Tuesday, about a week ago. He was walking to Mrs. Figg's house or something."
Tuesday? Sirius had been here that long? But that was impossible by foot! Unless…
"Was the dog attacking him? Did you see it hurt Harry in any way?" Remus asked desperately.
Dudley's eyes narrowed. "No, but I wish did. Then Harry wouldn't be running off with my food for that stupid dog."
"Harry was…," Remus trailed off, eyes widening in disbelief.
Harry was helping Sirius, the very person who doomed his parents to death? How was that possible? But it made sense, the way Harry only ate the fries and saved the burger of his small meal, the growing thinness each day.
Sirius, you bastard, Remus scowled inwardly. You're completely taking advantage of the poor boy's naiveté. You're using him, lying to him, fooling him, using his loneliness against him.
"It followed him everywhere," Dudley continued. "It didn't hurt him though."
"Should have killed him when it had the chance," Vernon growled, listening to his son's words with mounting anger. "I should have broken both his legs yesterday!"
That was too much. Remus could feel something within him snap. With a burst of inhuman strength, he slammed his hand against the table, feeling the wood make a distinct groan beneath it.
"What are you saying? Mr. Dursley, that is no way to speak of your nephew!" Remus nearly shouted. "If you had treated him better, then perhaps he wouldn't have ran! All this was…" he paused. There was a distinct bitter tang in the air that his wolf senses picked up that reminded him suspiciously of…
"Blood," Remus choked out, catching sight of the stain of red beside the closed door of the cupboard under the stairs.
Vernon abruptly stilled. He shifted, blocking the stairs from Remus' sight. "Now, I don't know what you're talking…"
But Remus wasn't listening. He pushed past Vernon firmly, almost knocking the man twice his size to the floor. The bittersweet smell was becoming stronger; Remus stopped at the door, opening the cupboard slowly. The scent of blood was suffocating then, washing over him and drowning him in its thickness. But all this disappeared from his mind the moment he caught sight of the blankets.
"This," Remus jerked the sheet free, stained with strips of dried blood. He lifted it up for Vernon to see. "is Harry's, isn't it?"
Vernon paled.
"You beat him, didn't you?" Remus growled, his voice dangerously soft. These days he kept careful watch in fear that Sirius would somehow hurt Harry, he completely overlooked the very family that Harry needed to be protected against! He had been so blind…
Vernon said nothing, but the strangely satisfied gleam in his eye gave him away instantly.
"I can't believe I didn't notice this sooner! You lock him in a cupboard," Remus almost shouted, slamming the door shut with a force that cracked the wooden frame. "Then you abuse him. You tell everyone how worthless and evil he is. How long have this been? Two years? Three years? Since he arrived in this… this family?"
Vernon seemed to finally find his voice. His eyes narrowed, and he backed away from the seething man cautiously. "You don't understand that boy. He's… he's a freak. He's abnormal."
"Harry's just a boy! How can you say those things?" Remus asked incredulously.
"That boy stole six hundred pounds from my wallet!" Vernon snapped.
"And you deserve to be sued for everything you own for what you did to Harry!" Remus gritted out, his hand trembling as it gripped the bloodstained blanket.
Vernon shut up instantly; he seemed genuinely frightened at that thought. He took another step back, pressing against the wall and staying as far away as possible.
"Listen," he said slowly as if Remus was a little child. "That boy is… a freak. He got what he deserved…"
A resounding crack rang through the room.
Remus drew a sharp breath, trying hard to control the furious trembling in his limbs, nursing a sore fist. Blood was pounding loudly in his ears; he could almost feel his heart pumping erratically with the rage coursing through his veins. Vernon lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, a mass of fat and linen. The lycanthrope enhanced strength was hard to control with such anger; Remus had struck him so hard that Vernon broke the corner of his wooden breakfast table when he fell. Dudley squeaked, hobbling off the chair and running upstairs. All the walls of the flimsy house creaked under his weight.
Remus scowled, hand shaking as he folded the thin and tattered sheet, placing it securely in his pocket. His wand was right there beside it, so tempting, so enticing, he wanted to avada kedevra the muggle right then and there. He had to leave. He had to leave before he did something he seriously regretted. It was so many years since he lost his tempter…
A gleam of light against polished wood.
Remus glanced up, catching sight of the small coffee table beside the sofa. There was something about it that bothered him. He approached it, ignoring the senseless lump of Vernon Dursley nearby, kneeling to examine the article closer. Bloodied fingerprints lined the edge of the wood, fingers too long to belong to a child, too thin to belong to Vernon.
No...
*six hours prior*
Sirius was close to panic when he returned, only to find the grass around him cold and empty. He wasn't even sure when the child left or where he could go. He couldn't have been going back, those people abuse him, could he? But Sirius already knew with a sinking heart that he would; the child accepted it and he had no where else to go. At the calm exterior Harry presented, Sirius couldn't help but wonder if it was a common occurrence.
He had startled off immediately in the direction of Four Privet Drive after that sneaking suspicion.
If they even touched Harry again, he was going to kill them! He was going to slit their throats in their bed, who cared about what others would say. Those damn muggles…
But Harry had never led him to the house before, and the muggle community was a myriad of branching streets. He paced the ground agitatedly, trying to discern the child's scent. He didn't even wonder the reactions of the children who saw a bear-like dog, or consider the possibility of Remus nearby. All he could think of was Harry limping painfully, hurt and vulnerable through the streets.
Sirius had followed it easily enough, but the moment he reached open ground, so many others trampled over and mixed into it. It took hours just finding his way out of the park, and by the time he reached his destination, it was past midnight.
Sirius paused in front of a rather drab, white house with small windows. He transformed in front of the door, either oblivious or just careless to the possible neighbors who would be looking out their windows in the middle of the night. Fished a paperclip out of his pocket, something he picked up running through the streets, and twisted the tapered end in the lock. His hand shaking with rage and apprehension, Sirius barely stopped himself before he flung open the door. He slipped it shut quietly behind him and morphed back into his canine form
… only to catch the bitter scent of blood.
Old blood, about several hours old. But it was thick in the air and permeated through the very walls. Sirius felt as if someone had soaked every inch of his flesh in icy water. He rushed into the living room, following the trail with a kind of frantic desperation.
It couldn't be Harry's could it? He couldn't return after all that, could he? They couldn't be that cruel, could they?
… could they?
He almost missed the cupboard under the stairs, looking anything but conspicuous, in his rush to find Harry. But when the pungent odor nearly suffocated him as he passed, Sirius jerked to an abrupt stop. He stared at the door incredulously. Surely not…
Harry smelled like dusty cupboards. It made sense…
Sirius was standing beside the battered door in an instant, back into his human form. He opened the door apprehensively, not even aware if it creaked or not. The biting tang of blood was so strong that Sirius could detect it even without his canine senses. He creaked the old frame open, and a beam of moonlight seeped into the compartment. Sirius stomach all but disappeared.
"Oh god…"
*
Okay, Remus seems a bit compulsive, doesn't he? I mean, all that screaming and banging doors at the Dursleys, he seems a bit like a Snape Sirius cross. Plus, he punched someone… I mean, in all the fics I've read so far, Remus has always been the one to get punched. *sigh* Well, I was thinking along the lines of Remus not so composed. I mean, after discovering that your best friend's son is being abused probably daily, how can he possibly be calm? Maybe it is… uhh… the moon? Perhaps he has moodswings? Well… okay, I admit it, I kind of got carried away. Ack!! Well, what do you think?
Some random news. I've been having serious trouble with PoM, so the chances of that continuing are rather slim. Well, wait, let me rephrase that. The chances of that continuing soon are slim, because I'm not sure what's going to happen later. I hit sort of a block since I never really planned it out. It was just sort of, a moment's burst of inspiration and I never actually planned the plot. I'm an idiot. I wrote up until chapter 6, and so far, the writing quality is… very poor. *hides* It's going to go in hiding until I manage to produce something halfway decent. So I guess that's good news for WS readers! I won't be spending much time on that fic until I get another burst of inspiration. *grin* I'm open to suggestions or ideas!! Originally, I planned PoM to be a character development fic, not much violence, but it doesn't seem very interesting that way. Urg... well... throw some ideas, and hopefully, I'll get rid of the block... thanks for dealing with my annoying moodswinging writing habits.
Ack!! Bio and math and chem test tomorrow... gotta run before I crash them all.