Black Birds
Ignition has also been posted.
-
"You're pregnant," the green eyed Wizard told her, a bright grin stretching across his face.
Takashi didn't think he had ever seen Harry so happy since he first met him, there were times when he seemed to shed the melancholy and cheer up, but this was the first time when everything had just fallen away. Leaving nothing but joy. He looked...
"W-what?" Hermione breathed her brown eyes wide and disbelieving as moisture began to gather at the corners, her flesh and blood hand pressing against her abdomen. "I-I'm... how? No, you're joking," she croaked, her voice breaking as those tears finally spilled and ran down her cheeks, "I can't be, the Infertility Curse Parkinson hit me with... It destroyed my Ovaries, I can't be... I can't be," she whispered, shaking her head and sobbing.
Harry hugged her tightly, small hands running through her hair soothingly as she soaked his shoulder, "But you are," he told her, "We checked twice. You're pregnant Hermione. A little girl. A daughter."
Hermione only cried harder, the dark haired male rocking her back and forth as she clung to him, paying no mind to his bloody clothes and skin.
-
Ron was absolutely beside himself as he ran down the corridor of the Morinozuka residence, having just burst out of their Floo Cupboard.
A phone call from Hitsugaya-taicho had informed him of a break in at the Senior's residence and his heart had immediately lunged up his throat and settled quite uncomfortably at the back of his mouth, making it difficult to breathe as he barged into the main sitting room where the most people were. His blind eyes desperately seeking out the Magical Aura of his girlfriend.
"Where is she?" he demanded, not being able to find her through all the Auras of the Healers, the Coroners, officers and other people present.
"Sleeping," Akira informed him, the Vampyre had the most unique Magical Aura Ron had ever lain eyes on, at first it seemed calm but then he looked closer and saw the violently shifting currents within him. It would have worried anyone but Ron, Harry had a very similar Aura but much more visibly disturbed, Kai's was two different shades, one calm and soothing the other violent and restless denoting his split personality. Kenichi's was perfectly calm and smooth, almost liquid like, or incense smoke rising through the air – and that was what worried him. The former Street rat was perfectly calm, perfectly at ease... to him... killing was as much of a non-issue as scratching his arse, he didn't even bat an eye at it. "She had a bit of a shock earlier; it took a while for her to calm down."
"Shock? What shock? Is she alright?" the youngest of the Weasley sons demanded, panic beginning to thrum through him.
Akira arched an eyebrow at him, "Calm yourself Weasley-san," he admonished coolly, "She will tell you herself when she wakes up. I believe Harry-kun put her to bed in his Futon, down that hall fifth door on the left, do try to keep it down, and do not wake her. She needs rest," the Vampyre warned, narrowing his amber and black eyes at the young stripling in front of him.
Ron nodded gratefully, about to run off before another thought struck him, "Where's Harry?"
Akira smirked at this, "Bathing," he informed the younger man; neglecting to add the fact that he had been forced to share the bathroom with the grey eyed Morinozuka who attended Ouran. Akira's nose was very sensitive; he could practically smell the desire coming from the taller male, and a much lesser, weaker interest from the smaller male. He knew his colleague, Harry would try to avoid that attraction for as long as possible, not realising the fact that he could feel that attraction – especially for another man – after his experiences at the hands of the Death Eaters was a miracle and a sign of his steps toward recovery bearing fruit. Now. All they had to do was make it happen.
But he didn't tell that to Ron, he would see it himself in due time and take the appropriate steps for his bestfriend and younger brother.
Akira chuckled slightly as the red head jogged off down the indicated hall, no doubt he would be going to sit with his girlfriend and his unborn daughter. A small pang of jealousy stung him, his eyes flicking to the messy chocolate hair of their Street rat Parselmouth.
If only...
-
His hand still felt sticky.
Takashi stared at the slightly pink limb, focusing on his skin and the flex of muscle and tendon under the lightly tanned flesh – trying to focus on anything but the sound of water hitting skin behind him as Harry used the shower.
He was beginning to be thankful that Harry often took baths while he was doing his homework instead of joining the rest of the family.
Still...
That scene played over and over and over again in his head, he remembered listening for any movement in the hall, feeling his heart sink when the heavy footsteps that most certainly weren't Harry's approached. What had happened? Was he hurt? Was he... dead? Had this person done something to him? Anger had been thick and hot in his body and he hadn't even thought about it before his fingers were curling around the hilt of the Nodachi his father had bought for his fifteenth birthday – the blade sharp and never been used.
He had then stepped out of the room, intending on taking the head of the one who threatened his family and had destroyed two people he cared about.
He was of average height, broad shouldered, Takashi couldn't see his face from within the deep black hood, but he could see the length of wood he had in his hand, he could see the way the man jerked and lifted it to attack him. His hand tightened on the hilt of the Nodachi and a shadow fell from the ceiling, green flashed and suddenly a glint of silver heralded a burst of crimson, almost black within the dark. The intruder never saw it.
Takashi couldn't move his eyes from the thin figure his fallen body revealed, panting slightly, his eyes were wide but his pupils dilated, his arm painted in gore up to his elbow, the silver glint in his hand now slick with blood. And for a moment, Takashi didn't know if he should be relived or scared.
Then Harry threw the knife away and he suddenly seemed so tired, so young that the older Morinozuka felt guilty and sick to his stomach for feeling that ambivalent fear.
He refrained from twitching as the water shut off behind him, heart thudding painfully in his chest as he heard the wet footsteps pass behind him.
"I need to give my report to Akira," the other teenager explained, Takashi could hear the sound of a towel running across skin and had to physically refrain from smacking his head against the side of the bath to remove the mental images it conjured in his head. "I put Hermione to bed in our room so I'll sleep on the couch tonight," 'our' room, 'our room'. That time, he did shiver.
But the other teenager put it down to the cold air that swept in as he opened the door, glancing sadly at the taller male's back, he sighed silently and closed the door behind him. What was he expecting? Honestly, he just killed a man in front of him, tolerant though the Hosts were he severely doubted if the older Morinozuka wanted anything to do with a murderer.
Making his way down the hall, he poked his head into Takash- he supposed it would be Morinozuka-san's room now, and wasn't all that surprised to see Ron fast asleep and wrapped around Hermione. Pulling his head out, he smiled slightly and made his way to the sitting room – the Morinozuka residence had two different living rooms, a formal one at the front of the house where the ATOC were currently gathered, and a private family one where he was setting out some blankets for him to use when he had finished speaking with Akira.
He hoped they would catch the Death Eaters soon.
The quicker he cut all ties with Morinozuka-san entirely, the calmer he would feel.
-
Several hours later, Harry still hadn't slept and the sun was already flooding into the Living room where he was sleeping. Akira had told him everything. He hadn't tried hiding the truth and Harry supposed he was grateful for it.
The intruder had not been a Death Eater, had not been under Imperio.
It had been an ordinary poor sod looking for some quick cash by breaking into a rich muggle's home and stealing anything of value they could find. He had a wife. And a daughter. And a son. His name had been Hiroshi Nakamura. His ceramics business had been flushed down the toilet after he had been caught trying to sell a Conjured replica of an extremely expensive set of pottery by some rich Japanese guy.
Just an ordinary poor sod.
And he'd cut his throat open without a second thought.
Harry rolled over and dragged the pillow over his head, he was no better than Lestrange or Malfoy. Maybe he really was the second coming of a Dark Lord.
He screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, repeatedly telling himself that he would never allow it to get that bad, he would kill himself before he became someone like them. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never! He wouldn't be one of them! He thumped his head on the futon beneath him repeatedly, he wasn't like them, he wasn't. He.... he didn't enjoy killing others! He just... just... stopped caring about it.
Which was worse.
Oh gods... His stomach felt heavy and sick, his face and hands too hot, his eyes were sore and itchy. Hermione was pregnant, she was going to have a little girl, she was going to bring that innocent little life into a world full of monsters, where her Uncle was going to be one of those monsters!
"Fuck," he whispered miserably.
The first baby of the D.A., the first Cub, the only truly innocent one of the group. And Harry... It hit him like a ton of bricks, stealing the breath from his lungs and sending a wave of pins and needles down his body.
Harry would never be able to hold her.
His touch aversion... Aphephobia, he wouldn't be able to hold their Cub, play with her, feed her, bathe her, hug her, put her to sleep. He wouldn't be able to touch her because...
His lungs hurt; he sucked in a deep breath, panting slightly as he pulled the pillow off of his head.
He had nine-months. Nine months until she was born.
Ron had gotten over his spider phobia in less time, Neville was no longer frightened of Snape and Hermione – while not happy with them – was over her fear of heights. How did they do that? Because they faced them head on.
The Death Eaters locked Ron in a small dark room filled with nothing but spiders, hoping the psychological trauma would break him – it didn't, he steeled himself and he got over his fear, accepted it and now actually laughed over it, spiders weren't scary to him anymore. Neville had faced against Snape at the end of the war and Duelled him to a standstill, he threw aside his fear in favour of protecting the people he loved. They had all thought the other boy had killed their ex-Potion's Master with how violent that Duel had been. And Hermione... Hermione climbed on a broom and practiced aerial manoeuvres every day, just in case it was needed, and every time she went a little higher than she was comfortable with until she was floating at the same height as Harry.
If they could do it, so could he.
He just needed to tackle it head on, face his fear and deal with it(1). His skin crawled at the thought of actually touching people but... but... it was necessary!
He could do this. It would just... take a while.
-
Ron had known there was something wrong with Hermione's stomach for a week now.
Her magic swirled around it softly and smoothly, at first he thought she was just... y'know... having that time of the month issues and left well enough alone. Then she began to throw up in the mornings and look more tired than ever, he assumed it was a stomach ache and got her one of the Indigestion Draughts, then a Constipation one. Nothing changed.
But to find out what he had thought was just a particularly chunky turd was actually a baby, his baby was... it was just...
He had to tell Mum, he had to tell Bill and Charlie and the twins and Ginny! He had to tell everyone! HewasgoingtobeaDad!!!!
He hugged everyone he passed, Takashi, Satoshi, he picked Airi up and spun her around, kissing both cheeks before practically dancing off to get some paper so he could send a message back home to England. Regardless of the grizzly events of last night, the red head's reaction to his encroaching fatherhood brought smiles and laughter to the faces of everyone in the house.
And, like the wonderfully clever and magnificent Post Owl she was, Hedwig showed up just as he was sealing the last of the envelopes to go back home. Her chest feathers puffing out proudly as she thrust her leg forward at him, well, with a request like that how could Ron say no?
Harry surfaced from the Living room just as Ron sent Hedwig off with the bundle of letters, he looked exhausted and the red head couldn't help but drag the smaller teen into a tight hug. No doubt Harry was hating himself, the guy he killed wasn't even a Death Eater, just a petty thief with delusions of standing.
Breakfast was a quiet affair, Akira had informed them the night before he would be taking over Hermione's Night Guard duties – she would be returning to England and living with Molly until things were safe.
Hermione wasn't happy but... this was possibly the only chance for a child she would ever have, her little girl was a Miracle already, she didn't want to put that at risk.
She was currently at the House packing her belongings, they would be Portkey'ed back to the Burrow and she would be getting a private flight back to England where Kingsley would be waiting with a Ministry Car to take her safely back to the Burrow.
Harry was going to miss her but... they both had their mobile numbers, house numbers, floo addresses and if all else failed, if it were an emergency, a Patronus could get there in a few hours or so.
Green eyes flickered to Takashi and Satoshi, both of them were studiously avoiding his gaze and he couldn't help the brief stab of betrayal and anger.
He made a mistake, he killed someone about to attack them, but... had the intruder been Bellatrix or Fenrir or Lucius... he would have saved their lives by cutting his throat.
Harry suddenly wasn't very hungry.
-
Takashi was being unfair, and he knew it.
Which only served to make him feel all the more guilty about it.
Knowing someone was capable of deadly force was something completely different to seeing them use that deadly force, to see them take a life. He sighed softly, watching the curve of Harry's neck as he bent over a book on Warding – one of his weaker subjects and someone needed to bring the ones fell last night back up.
It was just... hard.
He knew on an intellectual level that Harry wasn't perfect, but, like his fangirls, he put the other boy on a bit of a pedestal only to watch him jump off it. He doubted his father would approve of Harry if he knew about this incident, but on the other hand, Chichiue was difficult to predict, he was a little like Ojiisama in that respect. For all Takashi knew, his father may really like Harry.
Still...
Hesitantly, unsure whether or not it was just general nervousness or embarrassment – it certainly wasn't fear – Takashi made his way to the small figure stood on the lawns. He could tell the exact moment when Harry became aware of his presence, his shoulders tightened and his head hunched down slightly as if expecting a blow. Takashi's stomach twisted.
Almost against his will a hand stretched out, fingers just brushing against the smaller male's shoulder.
"Sorry," he muttered before stepping back, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. He wanted to say more but... he wasn't good with words, he didn't know what to say.
Harry stared unseeingly at his book, had Morinozuka-san just...
"You don't need to apologise, Morinozuka-senpai," he finally said, before the Senior fled back into the house, "If anything... I should apologise for making you see such a thing," he whispered, fingers clenching on his book. "Sorry."
Takashi patted him on the head before he could stop himself, "You didn't know," he told the smaller teenager, "You protected us. Thank you."
Harry could feel his face heating up slightly, "Yeah, well," he muttered, embarrassed and avoiding eye contact, "Someone has to keep you idiots alive," he finally complained, cheeks pink.
Takashi couldn't help but smile as he made his way back into the house.
-
"Neenee, Tama-chan," Mitsukuni whimpered, staring with doe brown eyes at the King, "Are we really not allowed to go visit Haru-chan and them on the Snowy Mountain?" he asked, "You even said I could eat cake in the bath there!" he accused unhappily.
The first years were on a Ski-trip, leaving Kyouya, Ginny, Mitsukuni, Takashi, Harry, Kai and Tamaki to their own devices, right now they were visiting Tamaki in the second Suou Mansion. He was busy studying while Antoinette made a nuisance of herself – before clamouring at Takashi for some attention which the 'Wild' Type Host was only too pleased to give her. Harry was busy taking a quiet nap in one of the window seats, his head on Ginny's lap while the red head filled his hair with as many tiny little plaits as she could while the Hosts chatted amongst themselves, Kai was upstairs fast asleep in the Guest bedroom. Takashi occasionally glancing their way before looking away just as quickly, lips twitching slightly in amusement.
Kyouya sighed, paying the girl no mind as he propped his head up on an elbow, eyeing his bestfriend critically, "Tamaki, did something happen between you and Haruhi?" he asked flatly as this was the usual cause of the blond's unpredictable behaviour of late.
Tamaki pouted slightly, not looking up as he flipped through his book, "Not really, nothing," he admitted quietly, sounding almost disappointed.
"Then... Hikaru," Takashi decided firmly, grey eyes watching as the blond stiffened and shivered.
"Oh, so it's Hikaru," Kyouya sighed in realisation.
Ginny giggled slightly, threading her fingers through Harry's hair as she felt him shift, slowly waking up with all the ruckus taking place around them. The Typical Host Club Antics that had Tamaki lying on the floor in a flowing puddle of tears – that had to be some kind of illusion – before suddenly fitting and rolling around wailing about Haruhi and Hikaru and fatherhood.
All the while Takashi stood at the back of the group in slightly exasperated disbelief.
Had he ever been this dense about his feelings? No, no he hadn't.
Mitsukuni would have told him.
-
Harry glowered mutinously as he stared up at the snow covered mountain wrapped in a mountain of layers.
Takashi was finding it hard not to laugh at him. He looked like a giant green puff-ball under all that.
They had decided to go and join the rest of the Club up at the Ski Resort without Tamaki – at his insistence – but upon discovering that neither Harry or Ginny actually had any snow gear, Kyouya and Mitsukuni had dragged the pair off to the nearest store where Ginny found herself being escorted by Kyouya to the women's section and Harry was dragged off into the men's by an exuberant Mitsukuni.
Ginny giggled at him in her yellow sweater and black jacket, her thick white trousers and fur lined white boots keeping her lovely and toasty, Harry however was a lot more susceptible to the cold than her because of how thin he was. He wore green, a lot of green, mainly because it was the only colour Harry would allow Mitsukuni to choose – he point blank turned down going near anything pink or pale purple like the little Host desired. Takashi merely stood back and watched in amusement, pleased that his cousin had laid his animosity to rest for the time being, at least attempting to make an effort to befriend Harry in any case.
Harry still hated snow, and cold. Hence why he was in his thick Weasley sweater, his Gryffindor Scarf, the black and green trimmed jacket and pale green trousers and black boots the smallest of the Hosts had picked out, a green bobble-hat with birds knitted onto it plonked on his head keeping his ears warm as he sulked in his seat.
He had been all for letting Hikaru, Tamaki and Haruhi stumble through the whole thing on their own.
But now they were on their way there and everyone was laughing at him because he was cold even though he was bundled up like a burrito. He huffed and shifted away from Mitsukuni's poking.
"I thought you were used to the cold, Harii-chan?" the blond asked sweetly(demonically), as he followed the green-clad male across the seats, poking him further.
"Just because I'm used to it doesn't mean I like it," he grumbled and scooted back further until he was practically squished against whatever it was behind him, "And would you please stop poking me?" he demanded in exasperation.
Mitsukuni grinned happily, "Sure," he chirped bouncing back to his seat and making Harry frown. What on... oh.
He sighed and glowered at the blond, "You're about as subtle as Satoshi," he pointed out before scooching away from where he had been practically sitting on Takashi – who was now rather pink and avoiding everyone's eyes.
-
"Have you asked him yet?" Mitsukuni asked softly, the sound of running water drowning out their conversation quite affectively. Takashi blinked at him, "Have you asked Harii-chan out on a date yet? Like you said you would if you lost the Sports competition," the blond reminded him, glancing over his shoulder to the subject of their conversation.
The Hotel's outdoor baths were quite large and steamy; as Ginny was the only girl in their group, she was taking a bath in the Hotel room while Harry had to join them. As of right now, Mitsukuni and Takashi were soaking while Harry and Kyouya chatted quietly and washed.
"No," the Morinozuka admitted, a little shame-faced for not fulfilling his side of the bet, it was hardly honourable but at the same time, he didn't want to scare Harry to the point where his duty to protect him became uncomfortable.
Mitsukuni must have noticed his discomfort because he hummed and nudged him slightly with a knee, "I don't think you should, not yet anyway," the blond admitted quietly, glancing over again and smiling slightly when he saw Harry hesitantly offer to wash Kyouya's back. "He's trying to get over it, really trying, but he's not ready to hear something like that I don't think."
"Aa," the dark haired male admitted, glancing over his shoulder to witness it as well along with Harry's reasoning of 'Ginny likes you so I may as well get used to having another brother'.
It would take a long time, but Harry would get there, he would get over it.
Eventually.
-
(1) BEFORE ANYONE GETS ALL OVER MY TITS REGARDING THIS: READ!!!
This is a little bit of personal history of mine. This is why I made Harry as bad as he is.
When I was younger, about five or six, one of my brother's friends molested me. It was an on going thing; a few months maybe, I don't remember it so well. Heck, for a time I forgot all about it, but I hated people touching me. Even my own parents. I had been written up for disciplinary action at my Junior school more than once for physically attacking another student because they either found it funny to grab my head or my shoulders or my legs for extended periods of time, occasionally even grope my bum – which was of course my attacker's favoured location as well. I bit through a boy's wrist once because he wouldn't leave me alone.
I completely forgot about what my brother's friend did to me as a child, but it still affected me and the worst part was that when I asked my parents why I reacted like that – they lied. They knew what had happened to me, they were the ones that my brother went to when he found out.
I was 14 when I remembered. I started getting nightmares about it. I still don't remember the boy's face, I do remember that his hands were always cold though, and I remember hiding under the dining room table when my dad shouted and threw him out. Since he was under 16 there was nothing that could be legally done about it, so they called his parents and let them decide the punishment. I never saw him again.
I still hated being touched when I was a teenager, but now that I knew why, I did exactly the same thing that Harry's doing to get over it. I started hugging my friends, I curled up with my mum and I made sure to get used to human contact again. I was well and truly over the whole molestation thing, it was just the whole not liking touch thing that took a while.
I still have moments even now where I just cannot stand being hugged or squished, other times I'm a cuddle-monster, it's sporadic and uncertain. I've never really had a proper relationship with either a guy or a girl either, my current boyfriend, even though he doesn't know, is very understanding it but he's one of the few that is. Even my own Grandmother gets bent out of shape about it, I do believe she's likened me to a porcupine on more than one occasion, 'Prickly', 'bristly', 'spiky', 'defensive'. And those are the nicer things she's said.
So, before anyone starts at me for Harry's decision to get over it and how it's pure bullcrap and unlikely to work – suck it, because it worked for me. I may not have been raped, I was never as bad as I portrayed Harry, but I still had the same problem and this was how I dealt with it.
-
Sorry for springing that on you guys but I wanted you to understand where I'm coming from in regards to Harry's problem and his recovery. Anyway, Ignition has been posted up for your enjoyment! Please take a look, it's a One Piece/Harry Potter, the main pairing of which is Zoro/Harry.
Araceil