For Pairing the Character: HarryPiers

Word Count: 793

Warning: mentions of abuse

"Hey! Hey, Potter!" Piers calls, following after the other boy.

After the moment at the park, the others went their separate ways. Piers had asked Dudley if he wanted to go after Harry, to teach the idiot a lesson about interrupting. In the end, Dudley had said no. Piers doesn't understand why the days of Harry Hunting are far behind them, or why Dudley looked so freaked out when Harry pulled out the weird stick.

There are a lot of other things he doesn't understand, of course. Why is he following Harry now? What is it about the other boy that draws him in? Doesn't he only miss Harry Hunting because it gave him a chance to touch Harry?

The thoughts and questions flood his mind, annoying him further. He quickens his pace, fingers curling inward to form fists. "I'm talking to you, Potter!"

"Really?" Harry asks without turning to look at him. "I thought you were shouting at me."

Snarky bastard. When did he get so brave?

Piers catches up easily enough and grips Harry's shoulder. Harry isn't so scrawny anymore; though he isn't muscular or bulky, he has definitely grown up into something more than the fearful little boy kept under the stairs. His emerald eyes flash in annoyance when he turns to face Piers.

"What?" Harry demands.

But Piers doesn't have an answer. His breath hitches, and his lungs seem to forget how to function. All Piers can do is stare at him, mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

Fuck.

"Right," Harry says sharply, pulling out of Piers' grip. "If you haven't got anything to say, I'll just be—"

His sentence dies. Harry shivers and looks off in the distance. Before Piers can attempt to make sense of the sudden change in Harry's demeanor, he feels the temperature drop several degrees. Emotions flicker through Harry's eyes; he is afraid, but he also seems to understand what is happening.

Harry takes Piers by the hand. "Run."

But Piers can't seem to move. The chill sinks deeper into his body, freezing him in place.

"Piers! Run!"

The chill changes to something else, something so much worse. Dread washes over him, and the world is suddenly drained of all its glorious color.

"Useless! Absolutely useless!" His mother screams as she digs her nails into his arm. "Get up, you worthless thing! Up!"

She's dead. She's dead, and this can't be real.

"Outside!" Four-year-old Piers is still in urine-soaked pajamas when his father tosses him out into the snow. "And you can stay there all night, boy. Piss wherever you bloody feel like, since you're too stupid to use a toilet."

Piers is vaguely aware of pain shooting through his body. Has he fallen? He can't be sure. It feels like there is a weight on him, like a giant block of ice has been lowered onto his chest.

"You'll never amount to anything," his mother says with a sneer as she locks him in his room.

Oh, she had been right. What does he have to show for his life? He is a bully, a twisted and broken boy who only knows how to hurt others. His cousin and guardian Max swears again and again that Piers is worthy of love, that he can be something amazing, but Piers doesn't see it.

Piers can hear Harry, but the other boy sounds so far away. Harry's words are strange and don't even seem to be English at all. Latin, maybe? In the back of his mind, he thinks it sounds like something Mr. Carson, his old Latin teacher, might say.

The weight is gone. Slowly but surely, the chill seems to fade. He's vaguely aware that Harry is beside him.

"Can you hear me?"

Piers blinks and shudders. "Cold," he mutters.

"Come on. Get up. Eat some chocolate and you'll feel better."

Piers doesn't try to move. Instead, he reaches up and pulls Harry close. The other boy tenses, no doubt aware that Piers' hands have been used only for destruction for so long.

He doesn't want to be that way anymore. He's tired of hurting everyone because he's been hurt. He wants to hold Harry in another way, in a way he is still so afraid to admit, even to himself.

"Don't leave me," Piers whispers. "Please…"

Say it, you coward.

"I want you to stay with me," he says.

Because I love you. Because I always have. Because I only beat you up because if I admitted the truth, I would have been a target.

"Because I'm scared."

Maybe he'll be able to tell the truth one day. For now, he was take comfort in something that isn't a total lie, and he will take baby steps until he is a better person.