Mutant Son
A.N. Thanks again for the feedback! So Nostalgic Beauty asked about the novelizations of the X-men movies and whether they have more information on John. The answer: only ever so slightly. You do get more of an idea that John came from a bad background. And in the movie/novelization he's American though when X2 came out the official website gave a little bit more information, saying that Pyro had family in Australia just to keep it semi-consistent with the comics I guess. Probably the biggest thing for me is the fact that, as I said, Iceman goes back for Pyro on Alcatraz instead of letting him die. I think that is more consistent with Iceman's characterization than him just leaving his (ex) friend to die. As for this chapter, it's slowing down a lot. I hope no one gets disappointed. We do find out the final secret about John's street life even if Harry hasn't been told it all, though. Sorry for a longer wait just for this.
Chapter 29: Coming Down
Bobby was like a walking air conditioning, Harry decided. Normally at the beginning of December no one would need that. But seeing as John was running a fantastic fever (though Bobby said it was normal as far as John and fevers went), a walking air conditioning was dead useful.
After John had practically passed out on the bed, either from pain or too much alcohol, Harry wasn't sure which, he had grabbed another chair for Bobby and now they both sat by the bed, just waiting. In silence. A very awkward silence. Harry began to fidget.
"You know you can climb into bed with him or something if you want. Tell me to leave, whatever," Bobby said looking over at him.
Harry shrugged. "He probably wouldn't want you to leave."
"And the bed thing?"
Harry didn't answer.
"Okay, so what's the deal?" Bobby asked, sighing. "First you're a complete bastard to me and now I'm getting the silent treatment?"
Harry eyed the carpet uncomfortably. "I was a bit stressed out at the time, not to mention angry. I'm told I'm really unpleasant to be around like that."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," Bobby let out sarcastically.
Finally looking up, Harry glared at him. "I don't think it's any of your business anyway."
Bobby caught Harry's glare evenly. "It depends on how you look at it. I've been roommates with John for four years. For three and a half of those he's been my best friend. Now he's decided you're worth dying over. That makes you my business. You see my line of reasoning here?"
In a way Harry guessed he did. Though part of him was saying that he never felt either Ron or Hermione's relationships were any of his business, the other was reminding him that those relationships never dealt in life or death. Bobby had been looking after John for years, picking up after him as Harry often thought. Did he expect Bobby to suddenly sit back and let things unfold? Still, Harry wasn't having this conversation.
"Ask John," Harry finally said. "I'm sure he'll tell you. He thinks it's stupid."
Bobby nodded. "He probably would. But I'm asking you because I like you, despite your animosity or whatever towards me. And I think I should know this guy's that actually tamed the untamable. Do you have any idea how wild he was?"
Harry winced. "I've got the basic idea."
John began to move.
"Bobby," he groaned. Harry's stomach dropped. "Stop it with the fucking AC." Harry could breathe again.
"Sorry man, you're boy toy distracted me."
Harry looked at him, half amused and half irritated. "Boy toy?"
Bobby shrugged, sending him a large grin. The guy did not give up. Harry just wanted to dislike him.
"Yeah, well, he's my boy toy, Drake, get your own," John mumbled, partially sitting up. He must've leaned on the wrong arm because he hissed.
"I'll skip, thanks," Bobby rolled his eyes.
"And I want my boy toy."
"He's drunk isn't he?" Harry asked, nevertheless getting up and going over. He sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm not drunk. I just hurt and wanna go to sleep. So lay the fuck down."
"I'm not tired."
"I don't care. You made me sleep alone for a month. I'm tired of waking up without you," John continued a bit blearily.
"Johnny, you're drunk," Harry said, though giving in. "You wouldn't have said that otherwise."
"I would've thought it though," John responded, curling up next to Harry. "Now sleep." Harry put a hand in John's hair and John closed his eyes. What would Harry have done if he had lost him? "Don't leave."
"I'll leave you two alone," Bobby said getting up.
"You don't have to," Harry responded, yawning. He might've told John that he wasn't tired, but he hadn't slept in two days.
Bobby just shook his head. "You're too nice sometimes. John's right. You do have two personalities."
"Johnny."
John turned his face into his pillow. He did not want to wake up. It was comfortable here next to Harry who…who John couldn't feel anymore.
"Johnny, I have to go." That was Harry's voice. "And if you don't wake up now then I won't be here when you do. I thought you didn't want that."
John cracked his eyes open. "I'm up," he said. Ah, sun. Why was Harry in line with the window?
But whatever because Harry looked pleased. He kissed John on his forehead before moving to get up. What was John, four? So John tugged on Harry's sleeve, pulling him down to get a real kiss.
Harry pulled away, rolling his eyes. "Go back to sleep. I'll send Bobby in."
John nodded before returning to his pillow. The door closed before opening again only a few moments later. As much as John wished Harry hadn't gotten up, having Bobby here was good, too. They hadn't seen each other in months.
"So do you plan on sleeping?" Bobby asked. "I mean, go ahead, I just don't know whether this is you going back to sleep or being hung over."
"I'm awake," John sighed, moving to sit up. He winced as he jolted his shoulder and pulled at his stitches.
"Here." Bobby handed him a glass of water and asprin. John glared at the asprin before sighing and downing them.
"Ew, do that with water." So just to be annoying, John swallowed pointedly again before taking a drink of water. "Seriously, what does Harry see in you?"
But John was a little too tired for verbal sparring. "I'm sure there's something," he said instead. Bobby threw something at him, some sort of cloth. John held it up. A sling. "I'm not wearing this."
"Yes you are," Bobby rolled his eyes. "Otherwise your shoulder's going to take forever to heal. I mean it's in place but not quite operating." Bobby sighed. "Come on, John, just put it on."
John looked at it before setting it aside. "When I get up."
They sat in silence. The thing with Bobby was that John could just sit in a nice non-awkward silence with him. Until he got bored.
Or until Bobby did. "So how old is Harry?"
"Seventeen," John answered.
"Ah."
"What are you 'ahing' Drake?" John eyed him suspiciously.
"Nothing," Bobby said quickly. "I just didn't expect him to be so young."
"He's only two years younger than us," John geared up to get defensive.
"But he was what? Sixteen when you two started fooling around," Bobby said before seeing the look on John's face. "It's just a little weird."
"Weird?" John repeated.
Bobby looked uncomfortable. "Don't look at me like that John. You know I basically teach kids his age. Even if it is unofficial."
John shrugged. He got where Bobby was coming from but Harry wasn't a kid. Thinking of him that way just skeeved John out. "Mileage, man."
Bobby nodded slowly. "I guess."
"What is this?" John asked, exasperated. "You think I'm taking advantage of some kid?"
Bobby shook his head earnestly. "No. It's just…combining his age with the fact you said he was a virgin—"
"Not anymore."
"Yeah, I figured that much out on my own, thanks. All I'm saying is that I worry. And not for him, for you. I just want to make sure your placing all your bets on someone mature enough to get what that means."
John sighed. Yet again, Bobby Drake was watching out for him. And it was damn irritating even if it was nice having someone watch your back. Harry's brand of irritating was that 'for your own good' mentality. Personally, John found that one more annoying.
"Bobby," he said, choosing not to be angry. John was too tired and Bobby didn't actually deserve it at the moment. "He's mature enough. He's playing with the big boys. Has been since long before I met him. You can't see the things he's seen, do the things he's done, and still be a kid."
Bobby nodded, slightly chastised. "I guess I can see that. I mean he can be scary as hell. Like intimidating. He had that Malfoy kid pinned to the wall and practically peeing his pants. Not to mention when you stopped him from…well whatever he was about to do to that woman. And his plan did get us all in and out alive. But…" Bobby paused. "Okay, he told me to ask this so you have permission from him and everything. Any idea why he was such a bastard to me? Well in the beginning but still. It was kind of childish."
John laughed but only for a moment because it hurt. "That?" he held back a smile. "The guy's jealous of you."
"Jealous?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because I told him I would've screwed you if I could've."
Silence. "What?" John held back another laugh. "John, why would you tell him that?"
John shrugged. "Was just being honest." Bobby continued to look at him strangely. "Bobby you're my best friend, you're good looking, and I'm sex obsessed. No one has to tell me that. Of course I'd want to give it a go with you. Well, wanted." The look didn't pass. "Bobby, you're a good looking guy. Get over it."
"Does this have anything to do with why you chase all my girlfriends away?"
"Nah, that's just because I'm a selfish bastard who doesn't like to share."
"So the usual," Bobby said wisely before grinning. "You know it's not exactly a compliment that a guy who would sleep with anyone would sleep with me. Just makes me one of the crowd really."
"No more crowd. It's an exclusive club nowadays. I'm not sleeping with anyone except Harry from now on." Bobby looked surprised. "I mean it. He's…I don't know I can't explain it. It's just not really about the sex."
Bobby smiled. "Ah, first you rant and now you wax poetic."
"What kind of poems are you reading?" John asked, somewhat amused.
Bobby looked at him curiously for a moment. "So what does it feel like? Being in love?"
"You mean you're getting blue balls over Rogue for nothing?" John asked. Bobby didn't look impressed. "It was a legit question, man. So you're really asking me this?" He nodded. "Well, maybe I'm doing it wrong but it hurts half the time. Then I'm just pleased if he fucking smiles, never mind anything else. I wanna hurt anyone who takes that away, by asking too much from him or trying to kill him, either one really. And it's gotten to the point that I can't sleep well without him. I mean, dude, he trusts me. Me. Let's think about that one for a second. It's like he thinks I could be a good man. I'm starting to fucking think it."
Bobby looked at the ground. "You should, think that I mean. You're the only one keeping you from being a good man." He paused, "You know, I asked Scott what being in love's like once. Definitely a different answer."
"So, what? Just because it's not in line with the Gospel of Cyclops or something, I'm all wrong?" John snapped.
Bobby looked surprised. "No, I'm not saying that. Don't get defensive over nothing. It's just…what I'm saying is, it's the kind of 'in love' I'd expect from you. You're kind of an overly intense guy. It's fitting. But I don't like that you say it hurts. Just putting that out there."
John didn't answer instead leaning his head back on the headboard. He and Harry definitely were overly intense. Probably since the beginning. But neither of them knew what they were doing and they both kind of fell into this. Harry was love starved and John…well, John was thinking it was just another addictive personality trait to add to his list.
"Where did Harry go, anyway?" Bobby asked, glancing at the door.
John sighed. He hadn't wanted to think about it. "Probably to face the music. The Order's not going to be happy with him. If I didn't feel so crappy or even if I thought Harry would let me do anything about it, I'd be down there too."
"They really weren't going to rescue you?" Bobby asked quietly.
John shrugged. "If Harry came to them with his plan they might have. Harry's got trust issues. He's gotta do things himself and if there's even a small chance someone will stop him, he'll go it alone."
As he moved to get in a more comfortable position, his arm caught his eye. The Dark Mark glared at him, jet black against pale skin. It almost looked as if ink got into the blood vessels surrounding the mark. He really hoped that at least would go away.
"What is that thing anyway?" Bobby asked, following John's eyes.
"The Dark Mark," John said, eyes fixed to the mark. "My father and his flunkies hang it in the sky after every attack. And all of the flunkies have it branded to them like this."
"So why did he put it on you?"
"I rubbed it in his face that I had something he didn't. So he marked me as his during a spectacular temper tantrum. You think mine are bad? He accompanies his with torture." John sighed. "It's about to make my life more complicated." He couldn't leave Harry to explain this.
John went to get up.
"Whoa, where are you going?" Bobby stood to stop him.
"Just realized I can't let Harry face them alone. He's gonna be getting a lot of shit because of me." John glared at Bobby as he stood. His muscles complained. "Don't stop me."
"Wear your sling."
"Don't be a nag."
"I'll stop being a nag when you start taking care of yourself." Bobby matched his glare. "Now put the sling on."
"Fine." John maneuvered his arm into the sling a bit roughly. Ow. "See you later."
They had gotten through the Order meeting without any mention of Harry's actions the night before. Remus didn't think it was really any of the Order's business. Yeah, Harry did something incredibly stupid and Remus was going to talk to him about it, but not in a room full of people. Almost half the Order was at this particular meeting and Harry was doing his very best to blend into the background. Finally it was time to wrap things up.
"Thank you for coming. If we come by any more information, we'll let everyone know," Remus said before standing, indicating the end of the meeting. Hermione began handing out the DA coins. He still found it odd that he had ended up leading the Order, a werewolf, and that a couple of teenagers were his closest advisors. And his wife of course. Moody and Kingsley were now dead and McGonagall stuck on Death Eater territory.
Remus met Harry's eyes, silently telling him to stay after everyone had left. But before that could happen, John entered the room. He looked terrible but he was steady on his feet.
John scanned the room briefly before finding Remus and heading towards him. Harry cut him off. They exchanged quiet words and it looked as if they were arguing.
"Hey, everyone," John finally said loudly. Harry moved away, frustrated and defeated. Those that had been leaving turned around.
Remus stepped up. "For our new members, this is St. John Allerdyce, or Pyro. Normally he would've been in attendance but he should really be in bed."
"Pyro?" Amos Diggory said, looking at John curiously. Harry noticed Amos for the first time and seemed to attempt again to sink into the background. But Amos didn't look at him. "There are rumors. Are you really You-Know-Who's son?"
John nodded. Eyes were fixed on him, even those who had known who he was. Most of them hadn't heard much out of him before though they knew he was part of the inner circle so to speak. "Yeah, my old man's Voldemort. He doesn't particularly like me though."
"John, you really should get back to bed. You shouldn't be on your feet," Hermione said, moving towards him. She glanced around at the other members. "John was recently one of You-Know-Who's prisoners."
Muttering broke out. "I'll go back to bed later," John rolled his eyes. He fidgeted with his sling. "I just figured I'd let everyone in on something before they think I'm hiding something." John rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. Remus tensed. He knew that John wouldn't have ever taken the mark voluntarily. To have it forced on him? It must have been excruciating. It also reduced his chances of ever being seen as more than Voldemort's son.
The room went silent, some eying him warily. Others like the Weasleys, Tonks, and a few DA members such as Angelina, Lee, and Katie Bell turned their eyes to Harry, clearly only worrying about what that meant rather than the threat John posed.
"My father gave me this," John said lightly. "Didn't appreciate something I said. He said I was his. The thing is I'm not, never have been, never will be. Just thought I'd let you all know before more people distrust me. More than they already do, I mean."
Some looked unconvinced. Even a few members that were used to John's presence and the level of trust not only Harry bestowed on him. Now it was also Remus, Tonks, Hermione, and even a few of the Weasleys.
Harry stopped trying to pretend to not exist. "Get over it," he said, moving towards John. "He's in a sling and looks like crap but what everyone seems to be focusing on is the mark on his arm."
"What if he's been sent to infiltrate the Order? What if he's had it all along?" someone in the back asked.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sure and Voldemort decided to put an incriminating mark on his forearm to help with his cover. And I can ensure everyone that he hasn't had it all along. I see him naked on a regular basis with the sex and all, I'm sure I would've noticed that."
The room fell silent again. Most of the Order had already known of their relationship but to have it said out loud was something else. The newest members like Amos Diggory and John Dawlish grew wide-eyed.
John didn't bother to hide his grin. It was something he would've said, not Harry. Remus was relieved to see the grin. It meant that John was mostly okay, even if it lacked its usual cheek.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Harry continued. "I'd like to point out that he was tortured." John lost his grin, glaring at Harry. Remus imagined that John would rather be mistrusted than viewed as a victim. "His father was perfectly willing to kill him. So don't question John's loyalties. I'm tired of it."
Remus was always surprised to see the way Harry moved from the kid trying not to be noticed to someone that had to be listened to. Most of the members had taken that as a dismissal and only a few remained behind. Molly had bee-lined to John.
"Oh, dear, you look like you need some food," she said, taking John's chin in her hand and studying the shadows under his eyes. John only put up a half-hearted struggle. "I'll go make you something." The twins laughed at their mother's antics.
"Better heal up, eh?" Fred asked as he and George walked over to John.
"Harry's been rather unpleasant all month," George added. "Do us a favor and work some of that tension out of him." George clapped Harry on the shoulder.
"Speaking of," Fred said turning away. "I've been meaning to talk to Angelina…"
George laughed, following behind Fred and out of the drawing room. John sat down on the nearest chair. Harry went to join him.
Remus was stopped in his observation by Amos's approach.
"Lupin," he said, holding out his hand. Remus smiled politely, taking it for a handshake. He had never really interacted much with Amos but he knew he was a good man, if not a bit traditional. While he never treated Remus with disrespect, during previous interactions Amos had been clearly uncomfortable.
"Amos," Remus greeted, gesturing to a seat. "Won't you sit?"
They both sat in chairs close to the fireplace which was flickering. Remus glanced over at John who was staring at it.
"I must say, I've heard nothing but good things," Amos said. "From Arthur as well as the other members. Cedric told me you were the best DADA teacher he ever had." Amos's face was sad but his tone said that he was dealing with his grief.
"Thank you. Cedric was one of my best students. He was a good boy." They sat for a few moments in respect for Cedric. A boy, Remus thought. Harry's age in fact.
"Do you think it would be possible for me to speak with Potter?" Amos asked, glancing over to where Harry and John sat. Hermione approached them and Harry spoke to her. Nodding, she waited as John got up. John sighed before following Hermione out, probably going back to bed or to Bobby. Harry watched him leave before meeting Remus's eyes. He headed over.
"It seems possible," Remus responded. "He's coming over right now."
"Mr. Diggory," Harry greeted slowly. Did he expect Amos to blame him?
"Potter," Amos said, smiling at him, standing to shake his hand before returning to his seat.
Harry looked over at Remus. "Are you going to scold me?"
Remus smiled. "You're not a child. Also I don't think scolding would do anything anyway. You'd go in again." Remus wondered why Harry was doing this in front of Amos. Maybe Harry decided it was nothing to hide, that people were going to have to deal with it. Remus didn't know if an attitude like that would be an improvement for Harry. It meant Harry would step up and lead but it also meant he'd get more independent. Harry was going to get himself killed unless he let the Order into his personal war effort.
"I would. And not just for John," Harry said, as if confirming Remus's thoughts, before turning back to a confused Amos. "I broke into Death Eater headquarters to get John," he said, shrugging as if it was an everyday thing. "Anyway, I came over because I thought you deserved to know something. Peter Pettigrew, the man who helped murder Cedric, is dead. John killed him."
Amos swallowed, nodding. "Justice, then." Harry looked away. "Potter, I just wanted to let you know that neither my wife nor I blame you for Cedric's death. We should have told you when you came to us with your Triwizard winnings but it was too soon. I do regret that, letting a fourteen year old boy walk away with that guilt. Thank you. Thank you for bringing my boy's body back."
Harry nodded. "I couldn't have left him." And Remus saw that fourteen year old boy again, if only for a moment. He turned to leave.
"Harry," Remus said grabbing his attention. "Next time you decide to break in someplace, let us help you. If we had realized Draco had a way to get in, we would've gone in for John, too. You need to trust that the Order will back you up. You can't keep going off on your own."
Harry looked at him doubtfully. "I've been doing just fine. I have people to trust."
"Nevertheless," Remus inserted though it hurt to realize that he was not one of those people. "Perhaps you should ask for help from someone other than a couple of teenagers next time." That did it. Let Harry know that he put other people in danger and you may get through to him, Remus thought. Harry said nothing, just leaving.
He turned back to Remus. "I apologize. I had to speak to him before I lost all my anger at him."
Amos nodded. "Yes, a good approach with a teenage boy." And if Remus didn't just feel like a parent sharing parenting approaches. Amos swallowed. "Potter is, well he's gay?"
Remus smiled tolerantly. It was clear many in the Order were uncomfortable with it, true to wizarding form. But they had enough respect for Harry to skip over an apparent character flaw. Not that Remus thought it was anywhere close to a flaw.
"He's in a relationship with another boy, yes. It was indeed rather a surprise. But don't let that affect your opinion of Harry. He's as much a leader of this Order as I am."
"He's just a boy."
"Wait until you see him in battle," Remus responded. "Harry is exceptional. Something for Voldemort to fear, I'm sure."
Bobby was gone. He hadn't wanted to go before John was completely on his feet, but John pointed out the Bobby had classes to take and responsibilities: X-Men training and school duties. That had done it. Bobby was always a slave to his responsibilities. He had hugged John before he left, it seemed to be his new thing. John tolerated it for a few seconds until he called Bobby a girl. Bobby had laughed and told him to say bye to Harry for him. And now it was just John and Harry. Hermione tried to give them space. John thought that she feared that Harry was angry with her. He might've been. For once, John couldn't tell.
So now they sat on the bed playing wizarding chess. John was tired of sleeping and he was still hurting enough that fooling around wasn't an option. According to Harry and John thought he was probably right. So instead, John was kicking Harry' ass in chess.
"Doesn't chess ruin your bad boy image or something," Harry asked frustrated when John beat him for the fifth time in a row.
John smirked. "The Professor taught me when he realized I wasn't going to talk to him." At Harry's questioning look, John continued. "He attempted therapy with me. So we played chess until eventually he handed me over to Scott."
"I met him," Harry said. "Intense guy."
"Tell me about it. I spent the first few months at the mansion attempting to break him. When I wasn't getting detentions for fighting with Bobby."
"It wasn't friendship at first sight?"
"It really really wasn't," John said, setting up for another game. "How about your friends?"
"Ron and I became friends pretty quickly, on our way to Hogwarts," Harry said, watching John make his first move. "Hermione. Well, she was an annoying know-it-all. She was obsessed with the rules and got on our case regularly."
"How'd you become friends?" John asked. They were having a legitimate conversation about non-war things. It was probably about time honestly.
"Ron and I saved her from a troll."
"A troll?" John watched as Harry partially ignored him, completely failing to hide his smile. "When was this?"
"Halloween first year," Harry said, finally making his move. "I jumped on its back to distract it and Ron knocked it out."
"You jumped on its back at eleven." Harry nodded. "You really need to work on those self preservation skills."
"Haven't died yet," Harry smiled cheekily.
"Not for lack of trying." John shook his head in not quite disbelief. Quite expected really.
This was nice, playing chess with violent pieces, talking to Harry. No war. But he had things to tell Harry. He couldn't let Harry find out the hard way.
"Harry…" John swallowed as Harry looked up at him. "My father knows."
"Knows what?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.
John sighed. "About us. I was thinking about you and he was like listening in. But that's not how he actually found out." John paused. "It was only a matter of time though. So I used it."
"You used our relationship to bait Voldemort?" Harry asked for clarification, both his face and voice unreadable. John didn't like it. He could almost always read Harry.
John nodded. "It's why he gave me this," John gestured to his arm though his button up shirt covered his forearm.
"What did you say?"
John wasn't repeating it. "Nothing you wanna hear."
"Something crude," Harry decided. "But why would that make him angry? Because his son chose me?"
"Harry," John moved his hand towards his pocket, felt for his lighter though he didn't pull it out. "Voldemort's about power, right?" Harry nodded hesitantly. "So is sex. Well, a lot of the time. I used that. I told him I had power over you, that you were mine. So he decided to make me his."
Harry was silent for a moment before he turned back to the game. "Okay."
"Okay?" John asked disbelievingly.
"Yeah, okay. Do you want me to get angry? Like you said, he would've found out anyway."
"I used you as a playing piece." Why was John trying to make Harry angry at him? John didn't know.
"Not surprising, really," Harry said shrugging. "Seriously, John, I'm not mad."
Was Harry for real? Man, John really loved this guy. They returned to their game. John took out a few of Harry's pieces.
"I am you know," Harry said quietly, eyes carefully glued to the chess board. He slowly looked up at John. "Not mad. Yours."
John didn't miss a beat. "Well, that's good. Because I'm yours, too."
Harry smiled at him. John returned it.
"You're stuck with me," John informed Harry.
They went back to their game. Harry seemed to stand a chance this game but it was short-lived.
"I don't want to play anymore," Harry announced as his pieces grumbled at him. John grinned even as Harry suddenly looked pensive. "Do you think Bellatrix is dead?"
"No," John said simply.
"I wanted to kill her."
"I know." But how could Harry think that John would ever let that happen?
Harry sighed. "You can't protect me forever. Eventually, you're going to have to let me do my job."
John shrugged. "You lead. You bring them down. I kill them. It's as simple as that."
Harry got up from his seat to sit next to John. "Don't do that again," he said as he leaned into John.
John swung his arm over Harry's shoulder. It was a little awkward. His other arm was still in a sling. "Killing for you?" John asked.
"No, getting kidnapped. I can't do this without you. Not anymore," Harry confessed. John pulled Harry in closer but felt where the Mark made contact with Harry's shoulder. He pulled away. That was never going to touch Harry again.
"What?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed. "You're not freaking out on me, are you?"
"No," John said, refusing to say anything else. But Harry grabbed John's arm and rolled up the sleeve.
"It's this, right?" Harry asked, studying it. John still didn't answer. But Harry pulled his arm closer and traced the Mark. John closed his eyes. He didn't like this. Harry leant down and kissed it. Voldemort's mark. John tensed.
"I'll make Voldemort pay for touching you. You're right, you're mine," Harry said still looking at the Mark. "But this is your skin. The fact that it's marked means nothing to me."
John looked at Harry. If he was an outsider looking in, he'd find all this pathetically nauseating, the whole conversation really. But this meant more to him than Harry could know. He tried not to let show how much the Dark Mark was torturing him. John was his own man. Harry's too, of course. Never his father's. Never.
John leaned in and kissed Harry. He pulled the sling of his arm as he straddled Harry.
"You're hurt," Harry warned.
But Harry relaxed as John settled comfortably on him. He settled a hand against John's back to support him. Yeah, John hurt but he over-ruled his previous thought. This was worth it.
"You won't hurt me, will you?" John asked, kissing Harry again. Harry twisted a hand into John's hair. It was a definite change of roles. Even when Harry had struggled for dominance John had never let him. At least not for long. Even after Harry's fight with Malfoy, John had finally regained control as Harry had become less confident, not knowing what to do. As John had just told Harry, sex was about power, control. He had refused to give that over, even to Harry.
"What are we doing here?" Harry pulled away.
"You're hopeless," John rolled his eyes. "I'm giving it up. Act on it before I change my mind."
"I don't—"
John forcefully kissed Harry. "Just mimic what I do."
Harry studied him for a moment before smiling, slipping a hand under John's shirt, gently avoiding the bandages. John moaned. That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Which was good because there was no going back. John hoped Harry knew exactly what this meant.
Harry curled up as closely to John as he could manage, watching him doze off. That was…well, Harry couldn't explain it. He knew it was a big deal what they just did. John had shown an incredible degree of trust in him and it had excellent consequences. Really, really excellent consequences. Repeat performance, hopefully.
"Stop thinking," John mumbled. So he hadn't dozed off.
"Sorry," Harry smiled. "It's just…"
"I get it," John said sleepily. "Repeat performance when I feel better?"
"You read my mind," Harry responded. John threw an arm around Harry.
"Must be a secondary mutation." John opened his eyes fully. "You know I've been thinking—"
"Hypocrite."
"Funny," John rolled his eyes, smiling lazily. "Anyway, been thinking. It's not fair you got a nickname for me. I just have Harry."
"My name's no good for nicknames," Harry agreed.
"Sure, baby."
"No."
"Aw come on, baby."
"Doubly no."
"Ruining my fun," John sighed.
"And besides, 'boy wonder' seems like a nickname to me," Harry pointed out.
"Not the same thing as 'Johnny'," John returned. "I guess you'll just have to keep being Harry. You sure about 'baby'?"
Harry stared at John. He really hoped John was kidding. Baby? He wasn't a girl. Maybe that wasn't fair. Guy, girl, he should stop stereotyping. But he already had to learn to accept the term boyfriend, baby wasn't happening. "Yes, I'm sure. Now shut up, I'm going to sleep."
He turned over and John moved behind him. Harry closed his eyes, but something was bothering him.
"Hey, John."
"Mm-hm," John said, refusing to open his eyes.
"Why won't you take Vicodin?"
John's eyes opened. He met Harry's eyes. Harry didn't like this silence.
"I thought you were going to sleep." John said slowly. Did asking that go too far? But John took a risk.
"My mom," John started. "She took off when I was little. She was a druggie. My dad always told me she was a coke whore, but I remember seeing her shooting up. Probably heroin but who knows? I was really young. The thing is, I'm a lot like my mom." John paused and Harry waited, giving him his time. He wanted to tell John not to stop there but he knew doing so would probably end the conversation. "I've used. Not coke or heroin but I experimented with stuff. Depressants particularly. I liked barbies—barbiturates, but I always held back. I didn't want to be my mom. When I realized I had a chance at something else at the mansion I stopped. Everything but alcohol I guess. And I'm not going to fuck that up. So no Vicodin, no nothing."
Harry didn't say anything. John's life was so different from his. Harry was used to life or death situations, to losing people, to going it alone in the end. But stuff like this? He hadn't a clue. What was he supposed to say? John had a terrible life. Drugs, the things he had to do for money. Torture? Things that led to STD screenings?
"I told you Harry. I'm fucked up," John said slowly.
"Tomorrow you're taking Vicodin," Harry said, continuing when it looked like John was going to interrupt. "Regulated. And you're going to see that you're not your mother. Not your father either."
"Harry—"
"No, John," Harry said without hesitating and as strongly as possible. "Asprin's not doing anything and, frankly, Vicodin is a whole lot more healthy than getting completely smashed."
"You have too much confidence in me," John said disbelievingly. "Bobby just respects my limits."
"I'm not Bobby," Harry reminded him and he was tired of the comparison. "And I think the issue is that you don't have nearly enough confidence in yourself."
"I have plenty of confidence," John smirked. "It borders on arrogance really."
"Yeah, well, I'm not the only one with two personalities."
A.N. As I said, the basics of John's pre-mansion have been revealed. Child abuse, stealing cars, pick-pocketing, selling himself occasionally, and some drugs. The first is how he ended up on the streets and eventually at the mansion. The next three he did to survive and the fourth? Well, that's how he was able to do it.
