XXX
Story: [Scissorhands]
Summary: Harry becomes an outcast in his own right from an early age and learns a few valuable lessons in the process. Starts heavy, is heavy, but has a happy ending.
Genre: Drama, slight Romance
XXX
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
XXX
Sanity is a concept of normality.
Harry stared at the writhing forms of his tormentors, wondering if perhaps this was they'd meant when the Dursleys called him 'freak'.
If it was, he could understand why.
He'd longed for something, anything to allow him to stand up against Dudley and his gang. And as they'd attacked the new girl in class, he'd found it.
He could hurt people. He could hurt people horribly.
He didn't particularly care either way about inflicting such a thing on bullies, but he'd defended the girl, and that mattered far more to him.
Of course, she wasn't happy about his help. She didn't like seeing people in pain, she wanted nothing to do with someone who could hurt others so easily.
It was his another in a long list of lessons about the reality of the world.
Hurting people will not make others like you. No, perhaps that was not entirely true. What he meant was, hurting people will not make anyone like you that were actually worth hurting others for.
He didn't want people like Dudley's gang flocking to him. People that enjoyed watching others being hurt.
So he accepted the girl's rejection, and continued on with his friendless existence. Knowing know that at least he could defend himself by hurting the bullies right back.
It was a lesson that would make the Dursleys quake in their boots, for even if he – due in no small part to his upbringing – would see no need to consider his regular chores as bullying, he would not accept their punishments.
And so it was that locking him inside of his cupboard became a suicidal dance with pain.
By the time he reached elven years old, and his uncle tried to steal away his first letter, Harry took it back.
Because stealing another person's things was bullying.
He didn't understand what Hogwarts meant, or why they were awaiting his owl, or how he was supposed to purchase the required materials as listed in the letter. But he understood what 'wizard' meant.
And if there was a school for wizards, who were obviously not normal people, then perhaps they were also people who could hurt others horribly.
The possibility made him nervous. He'd after all grown used to not having to defend himself from others, and he wasn't sure how he would even go about stopping himself from feeling the pain that others like him would be able to inflict.
More letters came the next day, and the day after that, but none of them explained how he was supposed to answer them. Only that ever-present 'we await your owl'.
There was no need for so many letters, so they made a fire out of them in the backyard inside of a wheelbarrow.
By the time the giant broke down the house's door and gave Dudley a pig's tail for trying to eat Harry's first birthday cake, Harry had come to the conclusion that Hogwarts was not going to be a pleasant experience for him.
They could send that many letters for a few reasons: they had absolutely no way to determine if even a single letter made it to the destination, and was therefore forced to send a bathtub of them each time. Or they were trying to bully them into responding by drowning them in letters that explained nothing.
The first meant stupidity, the second meant bullies. It was possible that they were both at the same time, as Dudley's gang could easily demonstrate.
Regardless, he would have to defend himself by bringing other people pain there, of that he was sure, and if he was right then the people there would be able to bring pain to him as well. So he would most likely be bullied once again, hunted by another gang that he wouldn't be able to defend himself against.
XXX
Hagrid had the key to Harry's money.
There was something wrong about that, because even if he held it in trust, Harry didn't know if he really trusted Hagrid. He'd never met him before in his life, after all. Except that he had, because apparently this person had left him at the Dursleys' doorstep when he was a baby.
So he needed to take that key back, and keep it safe for himself, because the only key anyone had ever held over him was the key to the cupboard, and that key had been used as a mean for the Dursleys to bully him. And he had to be careful about being bullied in a world where the bullies could bring him pain too.
It was a lot easier than he felt comfortable with, to nick the key from one of Hagrid's many pockets. He didn't like stealing after all, but it was his key in the first place, so that should mean that he was only taking it back.
Not that his motivations mattered, since the giant never noticed any of it.
XXX
Ollivander was strange, but not a bully, and even if he told him of the wand that gave him his scar, that was merely a different way of apologizing for the actions of another.
Harry didn't particularly care, but Hagrid appeared nervous about it, and when asked about the night he'd lost his parents, Harry learnt that he was famous.
Harry had seen the news, he knew that people didn't think that famous people were people too. And that meant that these wizards would think that bullying him would make perfect sense since he wasn't a person and so wasn't allowed to fight back.
This realization didn't make him any more enthusiastic about attending Hogwarts.
The blond boy in the clothes shop didn't seem to think it odd to bully others, or insult them, or belittle them. Confirming Harry's fears in that bullies existed even amongst people like him.
XXX
When a redheaded boy opened the door to his compartment and asked if he could sit there since everywhere else was full, Harry invited him in with a wary eye.
He didn't trust these people, who acted so strangely, who held him aloft like a celebrity, who kept him in the dark, and against whom he wasn't certain he could bring pain without equal repercussions against himself.
It wouldn't be the first time that people had tried to punish him for defending himself.
He accepted the boy's presence, but left him to sit in an awkward silence as he continued to read through his book in an attempt to find if there was any reference to what he could do in bringing pain to others.
He might accept him into the compartment, but why should he trust this boy with his name?
It wasn't a matter of being polite, it was a simple matter of practicality. He didn't want to make friends, because he knew that he could bring people pain, and then the moment that they realized this they would abandon him, and if they didn't and continued gleefully being his friends, he would abandon them for not being the kind of people he wanted to be friends with.
It'd happened before, it would happen again. Harry didn't want to experience that loss beyond what he'd already done. And so the two children sat in awkward silence despite several one-sided attempts to fill that silence with a conversation.
Another boy knocked on the door to ask them for a toad that he'd lost, but neither of the occupants could tell him where it might've gone.
Finally, a girl knocked on the door, asking after that same boy's toad and receiving the same answer as the toad's owner had, before trying to start a conversation with the boy who'd buried himself in a book.
Then their eyes met, and after a long moment of dawning recognition, the girl shuddered and apologized before slamming the door closed and disappearing away.
Much like she'd done the time that he'd protected her from bullies by bringing them pain, and she'd taught him such a valuable lesson in life.
She'd transferred out nearly as quickly as she'd transferred in, but he still remembered that stricken look of horror etched into her features.
Ignoring the redhead's attempts to once again start a conversation, Harry returned to his book.
XXX
Harry took a deep breath as his name was announced to the school and everyone craned their necks to catch a better glimpse of the celebrity.
He knew he'd merely postponed his fame catching up to him by not introducing himself to the redhead, but to have the safety of anonymity so blatantly ripped from him in front of the entire school rattled him.
Even so, he strode up and sat down on the provided stool, relaxing marginally as the fabric of the hat hid away the whispering students from his sight.
Harry didn't care about knowledge, because it didn't really matter in the end unless you used it for something. Harry didn't particularly care about hard work, because he'd done a lot of it over the years with little to nothing to show for it. And Harry didn't have any ambitions, because he knew that he would live his life alone and secluded.
But wasn't bravery what it meant to protect someone despite knowing that that same person would never appreciate it? Wasn't bravery to do the right thing, no matter how deep into isolation he was pushed by them for doing just that?
The Hat could only give one answer.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
XXX
Minerva McGonagall shook her head as she contemplated the latest mystery of Hogwarts.
Severus couldn't see past his own crooked nose for his childhood grudge, Hagrid tended to be oblivious to most things on the best of days, and Albus appeared to have too many plans centered around the Boy-Who-Lived to actually stop and pay attention to his actions.
The rest of Hogwarts knew.
They knew of the boy with dead eyes who wandered the castle's corridors, the boy who looked so utterly tired of everything and whose written work was entered in dreary monotone. The famous Gryffindor boy without a single friend.
Not even Miss Granger, an outcast herself, ever tried to make friends with the boy, warily keeping her distance as if she didn't want to be associated with him.
Several people had tried to welcome him, and he'd merely stared at them with those same dead eyes until they went away. The professors had tried everything they could think of to better integrate the boy into the student body, but all of their plans had fallen through.
The boy didn't want friends. Nobody wanted to be friends with the boy.
Some of his professors had of course tried to befriend him, but he'd turned those same unsettlingly dead eyes on them until they gave their excuses and let him continue on his way.
The year had passed in a painful blur as Minerva and the others who remembered the boy's parents wondered just what he could've possibly experienced for him to act like he did. Unfortunately, Minerva was willing to place good money on it being because of the Dursleys. And Albus steadily refused all attempts to have him relocated to a more loving environment.
There was nothing they could do but sit back and watch the boy with dead eyes continue to wander aimlessly through Hogwarts's ancient halls.
And so the year came to an end, with none of the troubles the staff had expected from a junior Marauder arriving with the other First Years.
The exquisitely prepared feast at the end of the school year tasted like ash in Minerva's mouth.
XXX
Harry had learned many things at Hogwarts, and not once had he found proof of the other wizards and witches ability to bring pain to others.
It was possible that it didn't work on creatures with magic in them, but that theory was rather far-fetched.
Still, he kept his mouth shut and ignored the bullying professor, because whilst he hadn't found his own particular ability when searching for it in Hogwarts's library, he'd found many countless ways of using magic to torture, maim, kill, and control others.
He wasn't counting on that a professor who enjoyed bullying children would be adverse to using magic against them should it ever come to that. And Harry didn't know if he was better and quicker at bringing pain than Snape would be at drawing his wand.
So he'd kept quiet, and wandered the halls of Hogwarts in silence.
Now it was time to return to his relatives, to the house he shared with the Dursleys.
He didn't look forward to it, but then he didn't particularly look forward to returning to Hogwarts by the end of summer either. All the places he were at were the same. He was alone.
XXX
Another year, another Sorting, McGonagall watched her House be refilled with bright new eager faces, just as she'd watched the oldest ones disappear before the summer.
And, of course, there at the Gryffindor table, given a wide berth by all of his classmates, sat a boy with messy black hair and glasses.
His eyes remained just as dead as they'd been ever since she first saw him arriving with Hagrid and the other First Years, one year ago on the day.
The welcoming feast tasted disturbingly bland.
She wondered briefly if this was why Trelawney never ate her meals in the Great Hall. But then it was finally all over, and the thought could be drowned in her rooms by a few shots of whiskey.
XXX
Luna stared with wide eyes as the older Ravenclaw girls nearly fell over each other in their haste to flee.
The boy with messy black hair and dead eyes turned to stare at her, his eyes only really skimming over her in an attempt to locate any visible injuries, before silently dismissing her and beginning to walk away.
His very being radiated apathy.
Yet, he'd helped her.
Luna 'Loony' Lovegood, had watched the ones taunting her cry out in pain and then flee from the boy in front of her.
He didn't look like a hero. He looked a bit like a statue, face uncaring, and pain so quick to be delivered at the enemy.
No, he didn't look like a hero at all.
Luna reached out for the boy, making him briefly glance back at her, before the mask of perfect apathy returned to its place. Then she punched him.
Hard.
The boy stumbled, losing his balance and then suddenly landing stupidly on his butt, with a shocked expression on his face.
"That's for being mean." She stated with conviction, motioning towards where he'd scared off the other girls.
Then, as the boy slowly reached up to cradle his cheek with a look of confused and slightly betrayed pain on his face, Luna crouched down next to him, and kissed him on the other cheek.
"And that's for helping me." She told him, smiling slightly as the betrayal on his face gave way to surprised embarrassment. "Will you be my friend?"
Harry, still stunned at the girl who'd broken the laws of the world, nodded slowly.
She wasn't scared of him for bringing pain to others, she wasn't glad that he brought pain to others. She was exactly everything he'd ever hoped for.
XXX
Minerva made a noise of annoyance as she watched the two utterly besotted teenagers ignore her speech.
Heck, they had apparently become so distracted with each other that neither of them had noticed that they'd ended up at the Hufflepuff table, rather than at either of their own Houses.
Hufflepuff didn't seem to mind though, knowing that neither of the two lovebirds had ever really bothered with where they were supposed to eat.
Of course, they were both very quiet about ignoring her, so she wasn't going to call them on it, considering just how completely lost they seemed to be in whatever silent conversation they were having. Even if it was fully possible that they were playing footsies under the table.
Certainly wouldn't be the first time something like that's happened with those two. Poor Filius, he'd been so embarrassed that he'd ended up being admitted to the Hospital wing in order to fight down the blush.
She was happy for them, make no mistake, even if they had lost her ten galleons when they hadn't begun dating at her own specified time. But did they really have to be so... them?
Shaking her head in exasperation, and calmly noting that a lot of the other students knew what had raised her ire and seemed just as exasperated with the couple as she was, she continued with her speech.
It was the end of another year, the food was wonderful, the children were bright-eyed, and she was going to be saying goodbye to both members of that couple at the same time.
She'd given up on trying to convince her to stay in her year, when she'd realized that he would've flunked his exams intentionally if it meant that they could graduate together.
Stupid lovebirds being far too romantic for their own good.
Finally winding down her goodbyes and see-you-again, Minerva suddenly cleared her throat and glared down at the couple who still clearly hadn't been paying attention.
"And, of course. I'm expecting an invitation to your upcoming marriage, Mr Potter." She continued, both amused and annoyed when neither of the duo noticed her addressing them.
The students snickered, and several members of the staff at least cracked a smile at their Headmistress's joke.
Finally, one of the couple's Hufflepuff neighbors couldn't take it anymore and elbowed them sharply in the ribs.
Harry glanced up, looking confused and a little bit embarrassed, before noticing that the entire Great Hall was staring at them.
"Uhh... did I miss something?" He asked, his voice remaining steady, even as he blushed under the attention.
"I expect that I'll be receiving an invitation once you've settled on the date?" Minerva smirked down at him, glancing meaningfully towards Luna's ring.
"Of course not." He looked mortally offended. "We can't very well steal the Great Hall of the school, if the Headmistress is in on it, can we?" He demanded.
Luna bopped him on the head. "Yes we can, she just needs to wear a disguise." She explained primly, before studying her former Transfiguration professor curiously. "If you can't think of a good costume, you can always borrow mine." She offered, holding up a pair of glasses with a an attached fake nose and mustache.
Minerva stared at her for a moment, desperately fighting the urge to laugh herself silly at both of their daring. "I think I'll find something." She managed to get out through her suppressed mirth.
Harry grinned back up at her, his arm still happily wrapped around his fiancee's shoulders. "Then I suppose you'll get an invitation, only, it'll obviously not be addressed to the actual you, because then getting a disguise would be silly."
Luna nodded solemnly. "Obviously." She agreed with her fiance.
Then there was laughter, and cheers, and a horrible reconditioning of a silly song that had been sung since ancient times. And all was well at Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
XXX
A/n: As for Voldemort? Well, that's an entirely different story, and has no place in this one. Obviously.
Originally inspired by the song "Scissorhands" as sung by Mimu, and the translation of the song (as it's in Japanese) that can be so easily found by Google, this fic took on an interesting life of its own.
And no, I have no plans of expanding on the story as I've written it. In fact, the only reason it is amongst my "Incomplete" stories rather than as a oneshot, is because it's short. I'm serious, that's pretty much it.