Summary: Harry never expected something so strange to happen, especially one clad in odd clothes with few too many piercings. Or maybe it's just him.
Rating: Rated M, because I don't think I could ever make this have a lower rating xD
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, well, except for Aaron Grimmel and Gabriel Pyrennth. Those two hotties are mine, and so is the plot. HP characters belong to JK Rowling, and her publishers, or something like that.
Pairings:Harry Potter/ Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasly, Gabriel Pyrennth/Aaron Grimmel, and a surprise pairing that will make you go WTF. :3
A/N: This story picks up where HBP left off. So, yes, everyone who died in the previous books are in fact dead.
Beware. If you don't like really weird… odd.. strange… slashy stories, stop reading. Like. Now. Or just keep reading – it's up to you.
Incendio – Chapter 1
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Harry awoke to a throbbing headache, one that had seemingly woken him up. Unfortunately, it was not a normal sort of headache, and certainly not one that would disappear with the aid of any typical over the counter drugs. This headache had a magical quality to it; one that made the air hum, and set his teeth on edge. He clenched his teeth, slowly exiting his room and descending down the stairs in his aunt and uncles house to found what he would later refer to as a 'peculiar predicament.'
Oh, wait, no that was what Hermione would call it. Ron called it a 'damn freaky meeting,' and Harry didn't call it anything. He simply stood at the foot of the stairs and stared. It probably wasn't the best course of action, because should there have been a threat, he would have been dead in a few seconds flat.
Harry shut his mouth quickly, realizing he'd been staring at what had to be the oddest situation he'd ever seen. Sitting at the table in Dudley's 'seat' was a white haired boy eating a sandwich.
"Oh, hallo," the person greeted him. "You live here?"
Harry nodded, wondering why he wasn't pointing his wand at this boy, or rather, why he hadn't said anything yet. Harry frowned, and crossed his arms, deciding now was as perfect a time as any to question this person. "Who are you? Why are you here? And… what the bloody hell do you want?" And most importantly, why had his headache left?
"Oh, uh. Err. I'm Gabriel! Gabriel Pyrennth. And I'm just raiding your fridge. Don't tell anyone," he said, looking around rather nervously. "Hey, am I in England?"
"Err, yes? You are? And would you mind, uh, getting the bloody hell out of my house before I call the cops on you? Or before I turn you into something that resembles a cross between a frog and a cat?"
The stranger blinked. "What?" He asked suddenly. "And why are you pointing a twig at me? You know, just for, uh, future reference."
Harry ogled – how could this boy have broken into his house without knowing who he was? He was famous, damnit, and it seemed as though everyone out there knew him. Excluding this guy, who still had yet to answer his question. "Never mind," he muttered, deciding it would be easier just to wipe the boy's memory clean then explain it to him. Muggles really didn't need to know. "Obliviate," he muttered, pointing his wand at 'Gabriel.'
Harry froze when he realized his spell had not worked. Or rather, no magic had worked. Gabriel looked up at him, a frown on his face. "Did you just try to erase my memory?"
Harry stared, wondering how this boy could know he had erased his memory but not know what a wizard (or witch for that matter) was.
"Uh, no," Harry lied quickly. The stranger raised a pierced eyebrow, but said nothing. "Anyways, think you could leave? Before my aunt and uncle wake up, perhaps? It'd benefit both of us if that didn't happen."
"But I'm not done my sandwich!" The stranger protested meekly, waving what looked like a combination of everything that could be found in a fridge squished between some whole wheat bread.
"Out. Now," Harry stated, almost wishing the Imperius weren't forbidden – perhaps he could make this annoyance go away.
"Fine," the stranger said, and walked out of the house, looking quite put out.
Harry blinked, and then broke out into a grin. How absurd. His grin didn't last long when he realized that the stranger had left a bit of a mess. He shoved everything back in the fridge, knowing Uncle Vernon would have it in for him tomorrow when he discovered some food was missing. Harry sighed, and went back to his room, but not before deciding to write Hermione a letter, while the events were still fresh in his mind.
He picked up a quill, twirling the said item for a few moments before putting it to parchment and writing.
It's the middle of the night, and I was recently visited by someone named Gabriel Pyrennth, who strangely enough was sitting at our kitchen table… eating.
Is this some new scheme Voldemort's cooked up? Send a weirdo with a few too many piercings and white hair (of course, he's trying to be inconspicuous) to kidnap me or something.
And do you know how the ward on the Dursley's house works? I woke up to a splitting headache, and there was the 'intruder.'
Any theories you have are appreciated because I don't have any idea what's going on. And we don't have any tomatoes, mustard, or honey left, so I'm anticipating a rather hungry Dudley come morning, which is certainly a bad thing for all of us.
Harry.
Fine, so it wasn't the best written letter, but it got the message across. He was a little worried and was wondering why some kid who must have been around eighteen or nineteen would suddenly show up at his house.
A sigh escaped his lips not for the first time this night, and he tied the letter onto his owl's leg, giving her a quick pet after receiving a nip for having been woken at such an odd time. "Sorry," he muttered, "give this to Hermione, okay?" The snowy owl hooted in response, fluttering to the window, and as Harry opened it. She flew into the night, leaving Harry to stare at the night sky, his hair being slightly tousled by the breeze.
He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he might be able to address that letter to Sirius, or Dumbledore. Even if he probably wouldn't bother Dumbledore about something like that, he would have at least known the headmaster would have been there to turn to. The memories of the past year – Dumbledore's death, the funeral, still weighed heavily on his mind.
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Harry awoke to the screech of aunt Petunia. Even if his aunt was in the kitchen, if she tried hard enough, her voice would carry throughout the whole house. She had been practicing shouting for as long as Harry could remember, so it wasn't too hard.
Harry jumped out of bed, rushing downstairs after he'd pulled on some clean clothes, knowing exactly what would be the matter.
"Gone!" She announced, in a high pitched voice that made her sound like a vulture. "And you!" She rounded on Harry, advancing far quicker then he would have thought possible for someone like her. "You! It's all your fault! You stole it, you pathetic excuse for a child!" Harry gritted his teeth, knowing there was little he could do, even if he believed she was overreacting. "Near five hundred pounds – gone! You scum, give it back," she cried, grabbing Harry by the collar.
"What? I didn't-"
"Shut up!" Vernon said with a hard smack to Harry's head that sent him reeling. "You stole five hundred bloody pounds. Now where is it?"
"But I didn't steal anything! There was a robber! He was here! I saw him," Harry sputtered, trying to make sense of it all. It didn't look like they'd notice the food missing. Of course, with the account of stolen money, they'd hardly care. "I'll pay you back! A thousand pounds!"
"We could not care if you paid us back or not, lying, thieving scumbag." Petunia spat each word, the malice in her voice growing as she progressed. Dudley was grinning, not bothering to hide it. Harry struggled out of his Aunt and Uncle's hold. "To your room and don't bother coming out."
"But – what'll Dumbledore say when he finds out? And Sirius?" He glowered darkly, knowing it wouldn't matter if he were ordered to stay in his room, as it wasn't like he'd be leaving it anytime soon. He needed to put up a fight because he didn't steal anything! And why would he? He had a small fortune waiting for him. But the Dursley's didn't need to know that (and it probably wouldn't help his situation much if he told them and if they even believed him).
"You think we don't know? They're dead, and it looks like Petunia was correct when she said you're a lying, thieving scumbag. Because you are!" Vernon looked positively thunderous, though describing the situation as 'positive' was certainly no way Harry would see it as.
Harry bit back a scathing remark, one that not only included a whole slew of accusations to be directed at the Dursley's, but quite a few choice words that sailors were accredited to using. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to calm and not accio his wand, and justly use it on these so called relatives of his. As he was attempting to calm himself, he heard Dudley snicker, and Harry turned around to see his cousin refraining from bursting out laughing completely. "Oh, so now you're going to be crying in your sleep for them? Like Cedric – No, please don't die Cedric! Cedric!" He faked a moan, and clutched at his heart before righting himself and sneering. Harry glared at his cousin, but snapped when he heard his uncle attempting to repress a chuckle at Dudley's words. With a primitive roar, Harry launched himself at Dudley, one arm held before him in defense, the other behind him, ready to swing.
He whipped his fist from behind him, missing Dudley as he jumped aside with far more agility then he thought a lump of goo might ever possess. Harry cursed, and lunged at Dudley once more, this time striking the boy square in the jaw. Dudley staggered back, and Harry managed to speak, anger and hate lacing every word like some sort of poison. "Don't talk about them like that, Dudley," he muttered, taking a step forward.
"Oh, so now you're defending a murderer and old… guy… and your boyfriend?" Dudley laughed, but it was ceased with a shout from Uncle Vernon. Harry would have snickered at his cousin's small vocabulary if he had not been interrupted.
"YOU! BOY! Out! I don't want to see you until tomorrow!" He declared triumphantly, as if this idea had just occurred, and he had found it quite good. "If you come here before noon tomorrow, there will be hell to pay. And if you don't come back at all… well, you will be." Vernon sneered, wagging a sausage-like finger before Harry's eyes. Harry gritted his teeth, raising his head high.
"Fine," he spat, and turned around, leaving the house, and began towards the park. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, in a failed attempt to prevent himself from shaking. He felt like a bundle of nerves now, and it didn't help that he'd been kicked out before he'd even eaten breakfast. He growled inwardly, kicking himself for thinking something so stupid. He'd been kicked out, and he would have to wait it out for an entire day.
He could always flag down the night bus, but he didn't have his wand. Or he could find Mrs. Figg… Harry quickened his pace, but stopped abruptly when he saw that the lights in the squib's house were not on and there seemed to be no activity. He warily approached the house, and knocked on the door, waiting. He must have stood there for a minute, lost in thought before he realized it was hopeless. She wouldn't be answering the door anytime soon because she wasn't home. That was… oddly inconvenient.
Harry frowned, and continued towards the park, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans once more. He felt slightly better now that he'd been walking for a few minutes, but he was still seething. How could someone say something like that? He didn't even bother thinking of an answer to it, because there wasn't one. This was Dudley, and that was all there was to it.
But that didn't help matters. He was still angry, and it didn't help that it had been only days since Dumbledore's death, and what felt like such a short time since Sirius had died…
Harry was jolted out of his thoughts quite abruptly with the sound of a loud snore. He blinked, recollecting his bearings, and looking around slowly. He'd arrived at the park, but he'd been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't really noticed. Another snore could be heard echoing across the grounds, and Harry looked around, searching for the source of the noise.
And lo and behold, there he was. The white haired, sandwich eating, thief of sorts named Gabriel Pyrennth. Harry grinned maliciously, striding over to the boy who looked about nineteen or twenty, and whacked him on the head fiercely. Gabriel emitted another loud snore, and let his arm flop, so it was dangling off the side of the bench. It was quite odd in fact, for Gabriel was lying on the bench, feet propped up against the backboard, with one arm draped across his stomach, and another dangling listlessly in the air.
Harry huffed angrily, and whacked the stranger in the stomach, causing Gabriel to sit up, with a small 'ow.' When Gabriel saw Harry, he broke out into a grin, sitting up slowly, and leaning against the backboard of the bench, rather then using it as a footrest. "Hey, Harry!" He said, the grin remaining unfaltering. He blinked when he noticed Harry's expression, cocking his head to one side, peering at the raven haired boy through pale wisps of hair. "Somethin' wrong there? You don' look so great," he stated bluntly.
"Much thanks to you, that is," Harry retorted, receiving a blank stare from this Gabriel character. "My aunt and uncle said I stole some food! And then they noticed some money was missing, so they blamed me for that too!" Pyrennth watched Harry, causing the boy to squirm a bit under his gaze.
"Well," Gabriel began quietly, "just be glad they didn't notice that expensive watch of theirs went missing. Guess they won't be blaming you for that, now, eh?"
Harry simply stared incredulously at Gabriel. "No, because of you, I'm stuck out here for the rest of the day, night, and following morning," he retorted sourly.
"Hey, me too! Wanna be hobo buddies?" Gabriel asked with a grin. He turned around abruptly, spotting someone making their way towards them. "Aaron!" he shouted, jumping off the bench, and running towards the said person, and practically throwing himself at the other boy, and planting a kiss on his cheek. Harry couldn't make out the conversation between the two, but by now he'd deduced this Gabriel fellow wasn't straight. And that neither was this Aaron fellow.
Harry crossed his arms, pouting, wondering why he was stuck with a crazed… person, and why the idea of homosexuality didn't bother him as much as it should have.
Gabriel approached Harry, plonking himself down onto the bench beside the said Gryffindor and Aaron. "Harry, this is Aaron. We've been bumming it out for a year now on the streets," he said with a nod. Aaron hissed something at Gabriel, and the boy replied with something that sounded like a question 'Who is this kid, and how do you know him?' "Ehh, well, I got a little hungry yesterday," he admitted "and there was this little house. So, I went in, and grabbed a bite, noticed some… ahh, other things, grabbed that too. Too bad it got Harry kicked out of his house for a bit, and gave him a bit of a bad rep, what with being called a lying, thieving scumbag, and having a row with his cousin, and aunt and uncle." Gabriel nodded, almost sympathetically as he leaned against Aaron's shoulder.
Harry remained silent for a few moments before realizing something. "Hey, I didn't tell you half of that stuff you just said! How the bloody hell did you know?"
"Oh, ehh… sorry, sort of poked around in your memory a bit. I won't do it again, but fair's fair, because you pointed your stick at me and tried to erase my memory." He muttered a quick "I don't mean it like that," to Aaron who was snickering softly.
"Pyrennth, you twit! That was a wand! How can you not know a wizard when you see one?"
"Ohh, ehh, I dunnno," Gabriel replied quite pathetically, receiving another punch from Aaron. Gabriel cringed, whacking Aaron back, muttering a "It still hurts, dumb ass," before looking over at Harry.
Aaron clamped a strong hand over Gabriel's mouth. "Don't listen to him. He's just stupid." Harry found himself agreeing, but also backing away slowly, as Gabriel began to thrash under Aaron's restraint.