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Why did he help?
They were annoying me.
Why did he get beat up for someone else?
They were disturbing me.
Why did you feel so angry?
I didn't.
Why do you even care about her?
I don't know.
"Do you really think I'll get it someday?" She turned to look at him. The boy was lying lazily on the grass as if he had not a care in the world. At her question, he opened one single eye and stared.
"Stop being an idiot." His words were harsh but lacked the biting edge of his real insults. "You think I'd waste my time on you if I didn't think so?"
She almost smiled at that, long used to his way of talking. His apparent rudeness wasn't anything she minded really, and it was infinitely preferable to all the cruel insults from others. She dropped the twig she was holding in her hand and retorted.
"You didn't do it cause of my charming personality then?"
Harry turned towards her, with both of his eyes open this time, and simply stared. She looked away feeling a bit flustered suddenly. That sounded more like something he'd say, probably something he did already saw to the Huxley. She could easily see him sneer out retort that way to the elderly Caretaker in her mind. It probably made her sound stupid, though.
"Umm… nothing." She muttered picking at the ground for her earlier twig.
After a few seconds of silence Harry replied with a small smile.
"Your charming personality is just a bonus."
He reached out towards her causing her to stiffen in shock. Slowly, he ran his finger across the smooth white protrusions on her head. He had a fascinated look on his face as he examined her horns, apparently unconcerned about her discomfort. She took the opportunity to examine his head of unruly black hair.
I wish you had horns too.
Her heart leapt to her throat at his frozen expression. The fact that she must have just said it out loud made her want to bury herself in a hole out of embarrassment. With a flush on her face, she began to desperately concentrate on the twig on her hand.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry opened his mouth, and then shut it with a snap. With a shake of his head, he turned away and dropped to his previous sleeping position with a half-hearted 'keep practicing'. Her nervousness quickly turned into a mix of anger and guilt when she noticed a discoloured bruise on his upper arm, a remnant of yesterday's fight.
The incident yesterday had left her with a mixed reaction within her. On one hand, she felt happy that she had a friend willing to stand up for her. For all his caustic jokes and teasing, it turned out that Harry did care for her. On the other hand, the guilt of having gotten her friend into trouble with the bullies was eating away at her. She knew first-hand how terrible the other children could be and didn't wish that on her friend. When asked, the insane boy had just replied that he was going to 'magic the bastards away'.
She shook her head not wanting to dwell about that anymore.
Don't you see, Harry? Don't you see yourself in her? Doesn't her miserable little room bring you back to your cupboard? Don't the bullies who torment her remind you of your cousin? Doesn't her hopelessness make you feel nostalgic?
And he was asleep again. She reigned in the urge to chuck the twig at him. Falling asleep in the middle of a lesson not once but twice and he would still be able to complain about her 'laziness'. After staring for a second, she stretched out a foot and gently prodded him. As soon as her foot touched his head, Potter's eyes snapped open almost making her recoil in fright. He rolled over twice and somehow managed to get himself in a sitting position without using his hands. It was fascinating how much effort he put into being lazy.
"Anything yet?" He looked too tense to be asleep just moments before, as if he was having a nightmare or something.
At her negative reply, he looked down, presumably at some pebble on the ground. She took a quick glance at his face drawn in concentration before noticing the small stone levitating several inches into the air. Slowly, it started to spin. Twisting and turning, twisting and turning, until it suddenly stopped and shot upwards into the air at an amazing speed. He had managed to go from making it crawl an inch to that in less than a month. She couldn't bring herself to feel jealous, however. Training his powers was the one thing that he actually put an effort into and she couldn't help but think that he deserved it.
She was brought out of her musings when she felt someone tug at her head. Harry was standing up and pulling the 'horns' to get her attention.
"Hungry." He stifled his yawn ignoring her scowl. "I'm gonna get something. Just keep practicing for a few."
Lunch was almost an hour away so he was most likely going to steal from some hapless passerby. She had no illusions that making things move was the extent of his powers. It had been almost a week since he had last gotten in trouble with the Caretaker and if there wasn't anything supernatural about that, she would eat her horns.
With a cat-like quickness, he climbed and jumped over the tall fence of the park. Fast recovery, really, considering that he was having trouble standing just yesterday. A couple of pedestrians that were about took no notice of the boy even when he skipped along the road leading to the park towards the main street. She let her head fall back on the grassy ground with a thud once she was out of sight.
"Be careful." She called out to no one.
He let the grimace show on his face as soon as he was out of her sight. Ever since that incident yesterday, it felt like there was something picking at his brain from the inside. Not in a physical way, no. It was more like the feeling you get when you're on the verge of remembering something really important but just can't fucking grasp it, only constant. The annoying feeling was taking a huge toll in his normally sunny disposition leaving him with a strange urge to go mess with someone to vent.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry was squatting of the floor of one of the few unused storerooms in the orphanage. Before him was a blazing inferno, a burning pyre of other children's precious possessions that he had managed to pinch in a short while. With a content sigh, he leant back on the wall. The pleasant warmth of the fire tickled at his skin, almost lulling him to sleep. The small room was rapidly filling up with smoke from the flames but strangely it didn't bother him any. Lazily, he eyed the fire as the things burned; from bag packs, to books, clothes and even a handful of toys. Something in him almost purred in satisfaction at the sight. The niggling in his head had even quelled a few. Their possessions, a sacrifice to his satisfaction, it seems.
Ever since he had managed to master his new power, this sort of thing became a lot easier for him. With his newfound trick, anyone (even goddamn Huxley) would be hard-pressed to notice him or his little paradise. If he were to name it, he would probably call it 'anti-asshole force field' or something like that. Unfortunately, it had a slight flaw of not working on someone actually searching for him but it was really useful nonetheless. Levitating stuff was fine and all but this was easily the best trick in his arsenal.
After a while, he reluctantly got up and left the room. It would be a few minutes before someone would discover the fire now that he wasn't there to veil it. While the Caretaker would definitely blame and punish him, the son of a bitch was going to have to find him first. In any case, the assholes from yesterday would still have to deal with their belongings becoming extra crispy.
He was practically skipping as he exited the gate of the Orphanage unnoticed by others around him. Within seconds, he found himself stopping suddenly. Something odd had occurred in his peripheral vision and his brain hadn't caught up with it up yet. Turning back, he immediately managed to pick out the source; a person dressed in some sort of weird purple coat standing on the other side of the road. The man, as he quickly realized, was also staring at him though the expression on his face was too far to be made out.
He narrowed his eyes at the man letting some hostility seep into his facial expression. Everything about the man, from his ridiculous outfit to the way the crowd automatically parted around him, just screamed 'weird'. While it was not the first time he noticed a strangely clothed stranger gawking at him from afar (a sad fact, really), something about this particular guy was putting him on edge. Before he could decide whether or not to approach him, the man turned on his heel and disappeared with a loud cracking sound.
"What in the name of fuck?" He found himself whispering out loud almost gaping like a fish in shock.
It took another second before he started running. He could distantly hear people shout and curse as his shoved his way through them.
'C'mon, calm down you stupid shit,' He told himself trying to lessen the shock if seeing a guy disappear into thin air. 'Just calm the hell down.'
She bit down on her hand to stifle her giggles. Her amusement wasn't lessened at the sight of his exasperated expression.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now but you'll see once the purple guy-"
Her giggles exploded into full blown laughter at his gripe. He stood there gritting his teeth and allowed her to finish. After a few minutes, she had finally managed to reduce the laugh to a smile.
"Just... just hear yourself for a second, please." She managed to say without laughing.
She had been scared out of her skin when he came running as if the hounds of hell had been after his ass. That fear all but evaporated once he opened his mouth, though. Unfortunately for him, stories about disappearing purple men weren't something she could take seriously. That, coupled with his totally serious and even a bit fearful expression was enough to send her on a full blown laughing fit.
Her amusement reached a screeching halt when she saw that his lips had twisted into one of his fake smiles. Nothing good was in store when he had that smile on his face.
"You know what, let's try a new technique for your lessons, why don't we?
Oh crap. She swallowed and tried her best to look abashed.
"It's called 'bouncing stuff off your skull until you learn to stop them somehow'. I am still open to new name suggestions, though, preferably shorter than this one."
AN: And heeeere's chapter 2. Sorry to all folks who were expecting blood, horror, misery and stuff. They'll be coming up soon, I promise. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone (yes, both of you).