Disclaimer: No. Do I have to do this again?
Pairings: Nada. It's FAMILY TIME HAHAHAHA.
Warnings: AU, GORE, BULLYING, DEATH, INSANITY
Date: 4/6/2015
A/N: Sorry for being so inactive in writing. :( I have a bunch of ideas but I just don't know how to write them out. sigh.
Un-betaed! All mistakes are mine only.
XxxX
If only he was that naïve. He could've just thought of the Dursleys' death as a blessing from God, who was finally rewarding him for enduring years of torment. But contrary to his hopes, he wasn't. He knew that fateful day, was not the result of an attack of wild animals. That Fenrir had not been caked in mud, but rather dried blood. He knew that Fenrir was not all he seemed to be — a mere big dog. He's seen what Fenrir did. He knows he should be afraid. Others are.
Is he?
No.
How could he be when Fenrir was the only one who had cared? Sure, the school teachers occasionally asked him if he was being hit by his relatives when they saw peeks of bruises, but they didn't do anything. They didn't care enough.
Fenrir did. He cared so much more for Harry that Harry was sometimes overwhelmed by this unfamiliar, magical feeling of being loved. Fenrir stuck with him. Fenrir comforted him. Fenrir saved him.
Fenrir loved him.
It felt amazing to be able to say it and Harry reveled in his newfound confidence to say that someone did love him.
Harry finally felt happy — an emotion never felt in the Dursleys' residence. This was his first chance at happiness, maybe even his only one.
So he wouldn't let anyone take it away from him.
His treasure is his and only his, he would never risk anyone depriving him of his loving companion.
No one.
XxxX
When the Weasleys — kind gentle warmth happy — adopted him, they had to keep Fenrir as well. Everyone knew they were a package bundled together after the Dursleys' death. At first they were happy to have a young buoyant child like Harry in addition to their seven children, but soon felt there was... something different.
Fenrir always followed Harry. Harry always followed Fenrir. The two made an endearing sight, one that always melted the Weasleys' hearts and made their vows to grant the two happiness even stronger. Up until they saw what Fenrir did.
Harry was a small child. He was eight years old but looked six. Odd he was, always talking to Fenrir as though he truly believed that Fenrir could reply. But everyone dismissed it as his coping mechanism after witnessing the Dursleys' mangled corpses. His quirky nature of always being so carefree about everything was so different from others that he was a common victim of bullying.
Children don't understand how a family's death can affect a child as young as Harry. At least that's what adults said when they see Harry being chased around the neighborhood. They even have the excuse that "boys will be boys" and never stopped the bullies from catching Harry. Maybe they thought Harry deserved it. After all, there were many whispers that he was the Devil's child, with his green poisonous eyes and midnight black hair among the community of colours of red yellow brown hair and blue brown black eyes. The Weasleys were in fact the only family that accepted Harry for who he was. They were the only ones who would intervene and save Harry, just like they did before.
But they couldn't always be there. It was impossible. They had their own lives to live, and as much as they wanted to protect Harry, they couldn't. Not from a lack of trying though it must be said.
XxxX
One time, when the family wasn't home, with the adults at work and the other children at their friends' homes, Harry was left alone with Fenrir in the house. Ever since he was welcomed into the family, he had never been in a house this quiet. He didn't like it. So they went out to the park and Harry swung himself while Fenrir laid next to him napping.
Fenrir's ears twitched but before he could react, Harry was hit on the head with a baseball bat. With how light and small he was, it was a wonder that he merely fell and bled and didn't suffer a concussion. Pierre was still a nasty disgusting little brat, and thought himself to be an avenger of Dudley's death. He knew the filth had something to do with his death so Pierre took it upon himself to always bully Harry. Never before was he so violent though, but it hardly mattered.
Because his violence sent Fenrir's blood levels rising and growls could be heard throughout the park. It emptied out of laughing children as soon as Pierre appeared, and there was total silence. Fenrir's sounds of rage were further enhanced by the echoing, and even the animals and the wind stopped moving. Strangely Pierre couldn't take his eyes away from Harry and on the immediate threat.
Harry struggled slightly to pick himself up, and he lightly touched his bloody head before staring into Pierre's eyes. Pierre felt as though his very soul was laid bare in front of Harry as his breaths became shorter, louder, softer, lighter. Sweat beads slid down Pierre's forehead and he didn't dare to blink. In a strange way, he was intimidated by the timid little Harry Potter who always required Fenrir's help to not be attacked all the time.
Pierre stuttered," I'll sic the police on your mutt! They'll deal with him and send him off to the pound! And he'll be brought to the slaughterhouse because no one, no one would want a diseased parasite like him!" He was pretty sure his voice didn't shake or break a lot, and that this threat would be enough to stop the freak from retaliating.
Yet this Harry Potter was different. As the devil incarnate in front of him widened his eyes and smiled cruelly, Pierre thought to himself.
Maybe the beast was doing us a favour after all, keep us safe from him.
It was too late to have such a thought though.
Harry lifted a hand and pointed a finger at Pierre, and whispered nothing yet everything.
Die
XxxX
Sirens rang and people could be heard screaming. Arthur rushed to the park where all the commotion was. He had come home to check up on Harry, but was interrupted by the shrills from the park. With his gut protesting, he ran.
Before he even saw the park, he knew Harry was involved. Why? He heard a howl.
Life sure isn't boring now Harry's around.
Covered in blood, he made an enchanting picture of a fallen angel that was smiling insanely at what looked like a boy. The blonde hair gave it away that it was Pierre though since he was the only one stupid enough to mess with Harry. This time, Arthur bemusedly thought, he got too far.
Fenrir was engrossed in chewing Pierre's intestines, dragging them out to the ground before snacking on them as though they were delightful sausages. Pierre was surprisingly still alive, breathing heavily, gasping for more delicious air. His muscles were spasming with a gaping hole at his side. His eyes were twitching, fingers moving as though trying to ask for help since his lower jaw had already been ripped off. In fact, Harry had his jaw on his head, acting as though it was a bejeweled crown.
The adults were too scared to make a move, because whenever they tried to, Fenrir would swivel his head around to stare at them while growling hungrily. It helped that his muzzle was wet and dripping with the ruby drops of blood and Pierre's guts were stuck in between his teeth.
However the screams alerted the neighbors safe in their houses, so the police soon came to the park armed with anesthetic shots. But they weren't much of a help since Harry just stared at them and smiled and they used their shot guns to shoot themselves in between the eyes. They helped with the revamping of the park though, adding a touch more red to the tainted ground.
Arthur, sensing that Harry was done playing around, called softly," Harry son, let's go home. It's already sunset and our family's going to be worried sick if they don't see your smile when they reach home."
"Daddy?"
His heart warmed, and he hugged the boy running towards him. None of his children needed him like Harry did anymore, so he treasured the chances he still had.
"Daddy! Isn't my new crown pretty? It shines like rubies in the sunlight!"
"It's beautiful my son."
"Daddy, let's get away from this nasty horrible place with its beasts. "
"Anything you want, son. You're the most precious of all."
Blushing, Harry pulled Fenrir along, "Fen! We're going home!" The wolf shook his fur, and trotted to Harry, his tongue hanging out his mouth and his tail wagging happily.
Smiling, they held hands and went home together merrily, Harry's free hand clutching Fenrir's fur, leaving the horridly gory scene behind.
He's definitely a wondrous addition to the family, Arthur reflected adoringly, his beloved wife laying her head on his shoulder. They both looked over their darling children, crowded around Harry, asking for more details about how Pierre died, their eyes glinting in a strange thirst, the light of the fires of the fireplace reflecting their eyes.
XxxX
The Weasleys soon moved to the United States after accepting an offer to stay at their cousins', the Addams' house.
They even encouraged Harry to further express himself with the spilt blood of others, and led a peaceful life full of venomous arachnids, carnivorous plants, disembodied hands and torture.
All was well.
-Fin-