This Joker raising Harry fanfic is based on the comic books, more than anything else.
Please read the notes at the bottom of the fic for any important notices
If I add a * to a sentence, it means there are notes at the end of the story explaining it.
Beyond that, read and enjoy this deleriously Dark delight. And remember:
When you find yourself locked onto an unpleasant train of thought, heading for the places in your past where the screaming is unbearable, remember; there's always madness. Madness is the emergency exit.*
Have fun~
"Let me tell you a secret kid everyone's a freak.
Some people just feel like they have to hide it.
But not us. You have your insects, and I... I have alot."
The sun was slowly setting over the peaceful slice of fake heaven the residents called Private Drive, and Harry Potter was ripping the legs of bugs.
I wasn't so much a hobby as an outlet. A reaction to the hate and anger from the people around him. A way to feel powerful in a world that worked so hard to make him feel powerless.
He hid it of course. It would haven't been one more thing that would earn the verbal abuse of his aunt and uncle, but it was his little secret. And at the moment, neither of them was there to witness it.
It was his birthday, and he was daydreaming the same way he did every year. About a party. And colorful balloons. Maybe a bouncing castle or even a clown! Just like Dudley always got. His cousin always got something new and fun every single year, while Harry was never even allowed to join in on the fun. Not even once!
.
He wished he at the very least could get a clown. He had snuck a peek at the one Dudley had, and he was so much fun!
It didn't even have to be a good clown! He'd be happy with just a clown!
.
He picked up a large beetle and viciously tore of a leg. The trick was to only pull off the leg, not flesh or scales. One at the time. To make it last.
.
He was so focused on the task that he didn't even notice the somewhat creepy clown that was strolling down the quiet suburban road, looking quite shabby and out of place for the plastic fantastic neighborhood.
This clown had darkly green hair and his eyes were like vivid pools of acid. A wide Glasgow grin marred his surprisingly handsome face. Or it would have been handsome, if it wasn't for the fact that his skin was chalk white, and the red, red lips were stretched in an unnatural, almost feral grin.
.
"Hi..." the clown leaned on the fence right next to him, looming overhead. "Whatcha' doing?"
To most people it would have been scary, to have such a figure looming over them. If his looks didn't scare you, his threatening demeanor would. But Harry was too surprised to register any fear.
.
"You came!" His voice came out in an awed breath, stars of delight dancing in his emerald eyes.
"I...huh?" the clown looked a bit miffed at Harry's outburst.
"Uncle Vernon DID get you for my party, didn't he?!" Harry looked up at the clown. His whole body was vibrating with excitement.
"Uncle?" he paused, "Is your uncle Vernon Dursley?" He looked contemplating down at the kid.
"Yeah."
"Then sure. Yeah. He got me. You're...?" the clown asked as he moved to sit down next to Harry.
"Harry."
.
"Harry, right. Do you always remove small bits of animals on your birthday?"
"Um..." he looked a bit worried. He'd never told anyone his secret, he knew people wouldn't like it.
"Can I join you?" the clown asked, much to his surprise.
"Really?!"
"Definitely." he smiled a wide, wide grin that stretched from ear to ear, quite literally. Harry had never seen anyone who could stretch their grin that wide before!
.
"Do you kill the insects after?" the clown asked. His curiosity seemed genuine.
"Only if they try to get out of the box. If you kill them, you can't play with them anymore."
"You are wise beyond your years, Harry," the clown said and Harry beamed at the praise. He couldn't remember anyone ever praising him in his whole life. He liked this clown!
"When does the party start?" the clown reached into the box and picked out a bug. With his tongue poking out in a look of deep concentration, he snapped off a leg.
"Oh, um..." Harry looked down. "I didn't know I was having one. I've never had a party before. I was just..." he rubbed his arm awkwardly.
"You can tell me, I'm the clown, remember?"
"Nobody wants to be friends with the 'Freak'. But I thought maybe, just maybe, this year my aunt and uncle would hire me a clown or a pony... they aways do for my cousin."
He looked down before muttering under his breath.
"There's no parties for freaks."
.
"What?!" Seriously? You keep one box of tortured bugs and everyone's judgmental," the clown looked outraged and angry at his behalf, his hand rested on his chest in a sincere gesture.
It made Harry feel a strange, warm feeling in his chest. Nobody had ever taken his side before. He didn't want to mention that the bugs wasn't the only reason people called him a freak, but if he had, he felt like this nice clown wouldn't judge him for it anyway. He might even understand...
"I'll let you in on a secret, kid. Everyone is a freak. Some people just feel like they have to hide it. But not us. You have your insects and I...I have a lot."
.
"Is your uncle home?"
"No."
"But it's your birth... You know, your uncle sometimes forgets important dates. I bet he forgot to send the invites and tell you about it." There was a gleam of angry madness swirling in the poisonous pools that was the clowns eyes.
Harry looked at him, unsure what to think about those new, strange emotions he could see on the nice clown's face.
"Go inside, kid. Get ready. We're getting this party started."
"Really?" Harry couldn't believe his ears."
"Go..." the clown waved him towards the door with a shooing motion. "I'll handle the invitations."
.
The feral grin that now marred the clowns face was positively vicious in it's determination. Thankfully Harry had already turned to walk inside, gathering up his box of torture bugs, and thus never noticed.
He did, however, hear the distinct crack of a door being kicked open, and the sinister voice of the clown yelling out in the distance.
.
"Party Time!"
.
Harry rushed inside after that, and did not hear the screams that quickly followed.
Harry hurried to put the bugs away in his cupboard and rushed to the bathroom to wash up. He gave up fighting to make his hair lie flat after fighting it for ten minutes straight. He hurried to find his best clothes -much as they could be called that- all eager and exited.
.
It had taken the clown nearly half and hour to round up every kid in Harry's class -including a break-in to the school to get a list of Harry's classmates- but they were now huddled together outside the door of the Dursley household in a shivering, terror-filled herd.
The bravest of the accompanying adults knocked on the door, but not before shooting a fearful glance at the homicidal clown behind them.
.
Harry opened the door wide, a big grin on his small face.
"Welcome!" he said, thankfully having a lot of practice with letting in the guests for Dudley's parties.
His party, he felt, was a blast! And Harry could not believe his good fortune.
.
The gifts were some of the most awesome gifts he had ever seen in his life! Granted, some of them looked played with and worn, and non of them were in their original boxes, but that was okay. He'd never gotten anything new before anyway. This was still great!
"Oh, thank you Malcom!" Harry stared at the top-of-the-line flying droid. "But I thought you love this thing?" he looked at the other boy, looking a bit confused. Malcom cast a quick, fearful glance at the clown before looking awkwardly back at Harry.
"Yeah...Haha...I...um... Just thought you'd like it more. Uh, yeah. Haha,"
Malcom sounded horribly nervous, especially with that weird laughter and all. But Harry figured that maybe he was worried Harry didn't like his gift. He'd seen that on the telly when his aunt was watching her soaps.
"It's great Malcom! I love it!" he beamed, and Malcom looked extremely relieved as the clown's facial expression softened, and ushered another kid to come give him their gift.
From there on the birthday party was everything Harry had ever dreamed of!
.
The kids all sang the birthday song for him -even if their smiles never quite reached their eyes, and one girl could barely squeak out a 'Happy birthday', while a second kid wet himself and had to borrow the loo to get cleaned up. For some reason he didn't seem to want to go home when Harry asked. He kept casting fearful glances at the clown, so maybe he was worried he'd miss the show.
All of it might have had something to do with the deranged clown that was always hovering behind Harry, gleefully grinning a wicked grin and pressing his gloved hands together in a grotesque mockery of fatherly pride.
.
They played a few birthday games, all of them which Harry won! It was a bit strange tho... It was almost like the other kids failed on purpose, but why would they do that? Nah. He just got lucky. Nobody failed a game on purpose. That was stupid.
The clown even did a few magic tricks with whatever he had on hands, and he was amazingly good at it! Harry clapped the loudest of them all.
.
The clown stood behind him like a wicked vengeful specter as Harry blew out the lights on the birthday-cake. And by the wide wicked grin he was sporting, he looked mighty pleased with himself.
Just as they were getting ready to eat all the food that the nice parents had borough with them, Vernon came in through the door.
.
"Uncle Vernon!" Harry beamed, running towards him, just to stop shy of hugging him. "This birthday was the best ever! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
Vernon's hand lifted automatically, twitching to backhand the kid, but he held himself back. There was too many people around. But once they were alone-
Suddenly he noticed the clown, and all the color drained from his face, leaving it almost as chalk white as the face of the clown who was not casually walking towards him.
.
"Isn't it nice when people make the effort to show up?" he clasped his hands next to his face in an exaggerated happy gesture that contrasted darkly with the downright malicious grin on his painted face.
"Let's talk in the kitchen," the clown said. And the pale-faced Vernon wiped his sweaty forehead and followed him, looking for all the world like he was walking to his own slow, torturous death sentence.
.
Harry couldn't help but wonder if his uncle had gotten sick or something, but he was quickly distracted by his new, shiny toys and all the friends he was making. Or, well... Not making...
Everyone he was talking to seemed to stumble over what they would say, and quite a few was stuttering. But they treated him nice and laughed at his jokes, which was something he wasn't used to. However, it all seemed a bit forced.
Somehow, Harry found it awkward to interact with kids when he never had before, no matter how much he'd always wanted too.
.
Ten minutes or more passed by before the clown came back out. He was holding a hot pot and headed for the table where all the snacks had been lined up.
"Hot dogs are ready~!" the clown sing-songed, placing the pot on the table, almost certainly melting a bit of the tablecloth in the process.
The adults were watching him with wary eyes, but the kids were all hungry. Non of them had had a chance to eat their own dinners at home before they were dragged out here, so they crowded around the table to get a piece.
The hot-dogs were disappointing small, however. Barely the size of a finger each. Exactly the size of one. And there were only five, so they had to fight to get a piece. They looked a bit funny too. But food was food...right?
.
"And I'm off." he waved at the room. "I'll be back next year. Don't worry about that," his words a grim promise.
Harry, however, had something more important than hot-dogs to think about. So he rushed after the clown just as he was about to walk out the door.
"Wait! Mr. Joker!"
"Yes?" the clown paused.
"I want you to have something! But it's in my room, I'll have to go get it." Harry said hurriedly, rushing towards the cupboard. Curiously the Joker followed the kid.
.
Something twitched in the Joker's chest and a furious red snarl flashed across his face when he realized that the kid's room was in the cupboard. A big house like this had at least tree bedrooms, maybe even more!
.
"I want you to have these." Harry said, pulling out a box. It looked strangely familiar.
"Your torture bugs? Harry. I'm touched. I will treasure them," he placed his hand loosely on his heart. He truly did look touched, in his own dramatic way.
The clown reached down and hugged Harry close with his free hand, holding the box of bugs in the other.
"And I promise I'll only kill them if they try to get out of the box." his lips stretched wide in a feral grin, and his eyes locked with Vernon's in a malicious glare as he spoke. The meaning was obvious to them both. Vernon wiped his sweaty brow with a overused white handkerchief.
.
Then, in a fit of genius -or maybe as a whim- Just as the clown looked into the kid's acid green eyes, so like to his own, he made a choice.
The choice echoed through the world like the shattered glass of broken destinies. Warm and thick like blood.
.
"Harry. What was your birthday wish?" he asked, knowing fully well the answer.
"A dad," he whispered, before raising his voice so the nice clown could hear him. "I want a real dad. But my real dad's dead..." Even so, he couldn't help but hope. Wish.
"Harry, look at me," the clown said, and Harry did.
Harry looked.
"What if I was your dad? Would you like that?" he said.
.
He looked at the clown's green hair, spiking whichever way from his head, just like his own did. He looked at the clown's eyes which were the same shade of emerald green as his own. His face was very different, but then again, what did he know about faces?
.
"Are you my real dad?!" Harry gasped out, hoping beyond hope.
"I could be. If you'll let me," the Joker smiled his most charming smile. The same smile that had charmed so many of his victims. The last they had seen before insanity or death decedent upon their fragile little minds.
The clown held his big, cunning hand out towards the kid and waited.
.
Harry ignored the hand and threw himself at the clown, hugging him. He gave him his biggest grin, that -for all his effort- could never matched the unnatural width of the scarred grin marring the face of the clown before him, but one that expressed a warmth and happiness one would never seen from the clown.
"Yes! So much yes!" Harry said, blinking away tears of joy.
"Come on then, kid. We better skedaddle before the uniformed party-crashers show up."
"Oh! My new toys!" Harry just remembered.
"Good point. You!" he pointed at Vernon, "Get the kid a bag and stuff all his toys in it, and be quick!"
Vernon only nodded fearfully and rushed off to do as he said, and Harry stared at the clown -his dad- in awe. He had never seen Vernon do what someone else told him before. His daddy had to be a really important person!
He proceeded to tell the clown that much, and the Joker let out a mad laughter that would forever haunt the nightmares of the prissy housewives and children who heard it.
"Oh, believe me, kid. I am a very important clown!"
*Direct quote from the Joker in The Killing Joke.
This wonderful story came to mind while I was reading Birthday Bugs, and it struck me just how much the Joker seemed to pity that kid.
It's easy to forget that the Joker is NOT a psychopath/sociopath, but a perfectly normal guy who has experienced more pain than his mind could handle, and thus dissolved into madness as his only way out.
Mind you, he is not a NICE guy either!
This story is almost 100% based of the Joker story Birthday Bugs. In which 99% of this really DID happen, right down to the last word. (Yes, I quoted the Joker AND the kid...mostly. Harry has his own personality after all.)
It's been on my to-do list for a while, and I doubt I will ever abandon THIS story -if only because the Joker has always been one of my re-occurring obsessions, and I love him nearly as much as Harley Quinn does.
Why do the best people only exist in storybooks...? *Sighs wistfully*
That aside, my other stories may go on a slight hiatus, because my current obsession make me think, breath and LIVE the Joker atm, but I WILL get back to them at some point or other, fear not.
Please feel free to comment. I do listen to requests and ideas, and I may even use some of them, if it fits in with what the Joker would logically do, and the story.
I have no clue where I'm going with this story, beyond Hogwarts and a few loose ideas, so feel free to tell me if you want to see more of Harry's life before Hogwarts, or take a short-cut with only the most pivotal moments that shapes him during his childhood.
And feel free to vote if you prefer the Joker to end up dating Batman later on or not, (I have another story involving Harley planned.) of if he should just continue as he does in canon.
(Which is to say, flirt incessantly, spend 99% of his time plotting ways to get Batman to pay attention to him, happily admit he loves him, say he is his soulmate and so on, while working his ass off to become the most important person in Batmans life via Hate. Yes, I just read Tree Jokers and Death of the Family. lol)
Enjoy~ *Laughs maniacally*