DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER
On with the story!
Chapter 2: Setting the Stage
He ran into the shack, ducking through the door just as his mother looked outside. He grinned as he panted, his mother hadn't seen him. If she had, the whole manor would know by now.
With an easy grace, he walked towards the bathroom, and stripped. Stepping into the shower stall, he turned the hot water on high, letting the water droplets cascade down his bare skin. He stayed in the shower for almost an hour, just soothing himself in the heat and comfort of the steam building around him. Almost too soon, he thought, he stepped out of the shower, and covered himself with a towel. He turned and caught a fleeting flash of something. He fully turned to face the mirror. He saw the steam clear to reveal his reflection.
He had jet black hair, cut at chin length, with bangs falling in his face. His face was pale, but not in an unhealthy way. His features were aristocratic, sharp, but handsome. His fourteen-year old body was lithe, slim, but malnourished. His mother gave him less food than his triplets, he thought disgustedly, if only she knew…. He was toned from the work his alter-ego had to do, and his reflexes were faster than lightning. His senses were better than most, and his hearing was better than a werewolf, as was his sense of smell. He was completely silent and graceful as he moved, and he could easily melt into the shadows. But it was his eyes that attracted everyone. They were an icy jade that simply oozed power. And unknown to him, they were the same shade as his father's before he turned them crimson.
He stepped away from the mirror, and moved towards the wardrobe. Stepping inside, he quickly dressed into his worn, patched and frayed old black cloak, as well as a pair of muggle black jeans and black t-shirt underneath. He chuckled as he moved towards the door of his shack, thinking.
When he arrived at the dinning hall, his brothers, Damien and Gabriel, were already there and sitting with their mother. His face became unreadable, his aura cold, and deceptive, his eyes became blank as they came closer to his family. He was completely emotionless, and it was an incredible thing to watch if one had seen him only seconds before.
When he took his seat at the end of the table, his brothers sneered at him. He ignored them, and focused on eating. His mother seemed to be happy about something, and when they were all done eating, the three brothers turned to face her.
"Boys, I have great news." she said, her eyes shinning in glee. The two boys, Damien and Gabriel, one of which she thought would be Slytherin's heir, were excited. He simply looked bored. "Your father is returning. He should be reborn tonight, and will be home tomorrow morning to see you. All of you." she added with a sneer, looking in his direction.
On the outside, he congratulated himself on looking completely emotionless. On the inside, he had frozen stock still. He cursed inwardly, his father was coming back.
Once he was within the safety wards of his shack, he let his mask completely drop. He hit the floor on his knees, sliding down the wall, disbelief prominent in his viridian eyes.
Merlin, his father was returning. His father was finally coming back…and it couldn't possibly be at a worse time.
This is bad, bad bad, this is really, really bad, he thought.
And bad it was. He worked for people his father would do anything to get his hands on. Oh no, don't get him wrong, he wasn't working for the Light, he wanted to live, mind you.
What would happen if his father figured out who he was?
What would happen if his father caught him sneaking out?
He was on a job for his…employers. Well, they were more mutual friends than anything. His father would do anything to get his hands on some of his friends. Friends he has known since he was a child struggling to gain his mother's affections. Friends who took care of him as if they were family.
They were family, if you thought about it. They did favors for each other, they knew each other well, but respected each other's privacy. They were part of the different war factions, or they were bystanders, and would warn each other not to be somewhere, when an attack was taking place, so they would be safe.
They were the first ones to make him feel safe, they were the first to care about him. And he'd be damned if he let his father use them like tools. For his friends, no, for his family, he would go against his triplets and his mother. The two spoiled brats and their caretaker. But his father…he wasn't sure yet. He wanted to live, and going against his father, well that was a sure fire way to get himself killed.
He opened his forest green eyes, unaware he had closed them, with a spark of determination now noticeable in them.
It was time to pay an old friend a visit.
He was walking down Downing Street. His friend lived in the lap of luxury, right, as they said, 'in the Prime Minister's backyard'. He was dressed as he usually was when walking in Muggle London. He had a black t-shirt on that said Bite me in blood red, covered by a black zip-up aeropostale hoodie. He was also wearing his hair in spikes, with blood red tips, with black converse, and tight black Levi's jeans. It was also raining.
Once he reached his friend's house, he knocked thrice, and waited patiently in the pouring rain. The door opened up a crack, and familiar ice blue eyes widened. The door snapped open to reveal the familiar site of Declan McKnight, his 21 year-old, self-proclaimed big brother.
Declan stood at about 6ft 2in, towering over his 5ft 4in. He was broad, muscled, and tanned. He had light brown hair and ice blue eyes that could become glacial when angered. Declan was also an infamous playboy, known as Striker to most because of that as well as his incredible accuracy with weapons.
"What the bloody hell are you doing standing in this downpour! You're going to be sick!" he all but shouted in his face. Then next thing he knew, was he was being dragged inside Declan's house, and was standing sopping wet next to the door as it slammed shut.
"Nice to see you to Declan." he muttered sarcastically, before casting a drying charm on himself.
Declan nodded in approval, before asking, "So little bro, what are you doing here? You just left two days ago?" Declan was curious of course, who wouldn't be?
He sighed before looking Declan directly in the eye and saying, "My father's coming back tonight."
It was funny how much trouble that simple statement could cause.
Declan's eyes widened comically, before he passed out. He sighed again, before reviving his friend. Declan's eyes fluttered, before snapping open when he remembered the previous statement.
"He's possessive, damn it! He won't let you out of his sight. You'll not be able to report back every week, nor leave as often as you need to if he gets back. And he wants most of our people as tools for his side, we can't let him discover you, you'll be in so much danger, even as his son! Damn it! Why now, why when we are just getting in a better standing! Does fate hate us?" Declan ranted.
"Striker!" he shouted, earning himself a surprised look, he rarely shouted, there was hardly need for him to. "Calm down. Do you think I don't know this? The only thing worse, is that one of us will be chosen as his second. His heir, and Slytherin's heir. And hell, he knows it's me!" he exclaimed, shocking Striker even more with the declaration. They had all suspected he had been born Slytherin heir, but to have it confirmed, they didn't think he would do it, "I can remember him when I was little, before he vanished. He held each of us, for ten seconds each. He could feel my power Declan, he knew magic had chosen me to be the heir. The only reason the healer proclaimed me a squib, was because he wanted me to be protected. It was the only way I would've found my way to this side, and the healer will be killed once father returns." he explained frantically.
Declan stared at him for a long time. They stood in an uncomfortable silence.
"He's going to find out eventually, you know." Declan began quietly, "He knows you're the heir, he'll be watching you more. He's possessive, he won't want to let you out of his sight. But he's also secretive. He won't tell anyone you're the heir until absolutely necessary. In fact, he'd probably pretend one of those pigs you have as brothers would be the heir. But he'll still watch you. And once he finds out, because he will, and you know this, he'll use you to get to us. Be careful, Shadow, this is dangerous."
He nodded back to Striker, "I will brother, I'll keep it a secret as long as I can. I didn't earn the nickname, Shadow, for nothing." and with a smirk, and worried eyes, he opened the door and walked down into the pouring rain.
Crimson eyes following.
Okay! That's the first actual chapter!
The story is called The Shadow's Child, because Harrison appears to be most comfortable in the shadows. In later chapters, his comfort in them will be explained in more detail. I hope you enjoyed it!
Emeralds
Oh, and please review!