Title: Twisted Logic
Rating: R, at least
Warning: Slash! Yaoi! Fluff, oddities, and watch out folks, this is going to be lengthy…
Author: Angel Shinigami
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Chapter 1
0-0-0-0-0-0
Harry Potter was an average boy, well… average enough, and his life was going alittle less than smooth the summer before sixth year.
His "family", and that term is used as lightly as possible, woke him up at the crack before dawn to mow the lawn, whether it needed to be mowed or not, while they slept in, and then made him cook a bland breakfast that they never ate because Dudley would complain to loudly, grating on everyone's nerves until they gave in and took him out to eat at his choice of restaurants.
But that didn't stop his Aunt and Uncle from taking the food he'd cooked with them and giving it to a random homeless person they found on the streets.
Now don't mistake that for kindness or anything of the like, it was more to be mean to Harry and take the food, refusing to let him make anything else, they always knew when he did, and to be cruel to the homeless person who received the food, thinking it was edible until they actually tried to eat it.
While Harry usually thought these extended points of silence were good, his list of chores never seemed to get any shorter from day to day.
If he was tending the garden in the back one day, he was weeding it the next. What he was weeding, he had yet to find out, because the Dursley's never gave him anything to plant, but each day he was out in the blazing sun pulling out grass that was over and inch and a half long.
Along with that idiotic chore, he washed the dished, all of them…dirty or not, he did laundry, not the nicest job in the world when you live with people whose shirts could yield three full sails.
He dusted, swept, mopped, and cleaned the privet bathrooms…these usually took him all day, leaving him no time for homework and letter responding, but in the late hours of the night, he managed.
And the morning of July 31st was no different than any other.
"Boy!" His aunt screeched through his thin wooden door. "Get your Scrawny, lazy, white butt up and start your chores," With a resounding 'chunk', the heavy chain that held the panel closed fell away, allowing Harry access to the outside world once again.
Harry mumbled to himself about being up before six in the morning being evil, as he began to drift back to sleep, but alas, it was not to be. Aunt Petunia stomped back to his door and slammed her palm against it, scaring Harry so badly he jumped right off of his bed.
"Now!" she screeched, shuffling back to her room to go back to sleep herself.
Harry grumbled darkly as he got up and shuffled around his room, grabbing a dull grey shirt that was four times his tiny malnourished size, and a pair of pants that he held tightly around his waist with a thick piece of rope he'd found out in the shed once while hiding from Dudley and his 'Harry hunting' hobby.
"One day," He murmured, trudging over to the door and carefully opening it, making sure not to let the old and unoiled hinges to squeal his emergence.
"Why do I take this abuse?" He asked himself, creeping down the carpeted stairs and into the kitchen.
"Because you're to weak to fight back and to stupid to run away…"
Looking over at the table, Harry scowled at the long haired version of himself that was sitting arrogantly in one of the chairs, his booted feet on the white table in front of him.
"Shut up, you know Dumbledore would just find me and bring me back…"
"Weak, weak, little Harry," The other boy said, chuckling darkly, "You are so precious, that man is getting older…no one can live forever…"
Harry ignored the thinly veiled threat on the older man's life and began to make a breakfast that wouldn't be eaten.
"You know…no one is up right now, and won't be for another hour…I bet no one would notice an apple gone."
The boy stood and crossed the kitchen in three steps, wrapping his strong arms around his duplicate's tiny waist, pulling him against his body.
"They never eat them anyways, all they do is rot away…just one, imagine how good it'll taste…" He whispered into the delicate shell of Harry's ear, "Cool and light, not enough to make you sick, but just enough to keep you going for another day or two…"
Flicking out his tongue, the dark image of Harry blew on the small wet trail behind his counterpart's ear.
"Think how good it'll taste, how sweet, don't you want it?"
"Yes," Harry moaned, leaning back into the other boy's chest, "Yes I want it, god…"
"Boy!" His aunt screeched, snapping him out of his lustful day dream, "You'd better not be doing anything nasty in my kitchen,"
The tall horse like woman burst into the room and looked around, glaring over at the ghostly pale and sickly thin looking boy standing by the sink with a pan in his hands.
"Freak," she said, turning away and leaving the room, "Talking to himself, something is wrong in his head.."
o.o.o.o.o.o
Later that day, after a sound thrashing from Vernon about what he called, 'the incident', that morning, and a very badly burned lunch, along with a very badly burnt Harry, the Dursley's shoved the light weight wizard into his room and locked the door, All eight locks.
"Ah baby…" A deep rich voice cooed, the owner of said voice lifting the frail body and moving it to the thread bare mattress that rested in the far corner of the room.
"It's your fault," Harry breathed, a small sob dieing in his throat as he lost the energy to even cry.
"I wasn't the one who beat you, and I'm not the one that keeps you here…" the doppelganger murmured, gently embracing Harry from behind and hovering a soothing hand over the burn that cover Harry's arm from finger tip to elbow.
"Nothing would've happened if you hadn't tried to tempt me this morning," Harry shifted slightly, his ears picking up the sound of the front door closing, followed by a car starting a few minuets afterwards.
"Who are you?" Harry asked weakly.
There was calm silence, both versions of the same boy quietly laying on the bed that wasn't truly big enough for one of them.
"I am your shadow," The boy answered. "The darker side of you that you have worked so hard in repressing, the part of you that held you when you cried and protected you by activating your magic when you were younger, I have been taking care of you all of your life Harry."
Harry shifted so he could turn and look into the healthier boy's eyes, gazing into the deep sparkling green eyes that he remembered from so long ago, eyes that he saw everyday in the mirror.
"I think you called me Jorden when you were younger,"
"Is that your name?" Harry asked softly, turning and laying his head onto his shadow's chest.
"No, my name is Harris," He answered, a soft chuckle sounding through the room. "You'd never guess huh?"
"Never…" came Harry's quite response, the boy's soft voice drifting off as he fell asleep.
o.o.o.o.o.o
Weird huh? I don't know how this came about, but it insisted on being written and I being the wonderful person I am, listened to my muses, who are making me go back to writing Don't Speak now…
Hope you liked this, Review and tell me what you think…
Kat