AN/ I'm really not sure about how this chapter turned out, but I wanted to hurry up so I can get to sectionals in the next chapter. Hopefully it's not too shabby. You guys be the judge of how much I suck.
At the end of this chapter is the first request that I received from someone. I hope it's enjoyable, because I had fun writing it!
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any elements contained within this screwed up tale of idiocy.
Another day of school done, and safely in the past. It was always nice to go home and chill after a long tiring day of sleeping through classes and wailing on nerds. Puck liked having some time to himself, especially after the cluster fuck that glee club usually turned out to be.
''Is that you Noah, honey?''
Puck paused as he entered his house. His mother usually left him to his own devices, so the fact that she was calling him meant that something must have happened. He turned to close the front door behind him, before answering his mother's call.
''Yeah ma, It's me!'' He hollered back, as he made his way to the stairs.
''Oh good! By the way, your friend arrived a little early so I told him to wait in your room.'' She loudly informed him.
Puck paused again at hearing that. What friend? He hadn't arranged to have anyone over. Not that he could remember anyway. And his ma definitely wasn't the sort of parent that would just let somebody nose around his bedroom, even if she knew them. So who the hell was waiting for him?
''Okay, thanks ma.'' Puck called as he began ascending the stairs. Whoever decided to just barge into his crib, was about to get a rude awakening. He stomped up the steps towards his bedroom door, which was the first one on the landing, with a scowl on his face.
The self proclaimed badass was fully prepared to give whoever had invaded his personal space a severe tongue lashing, right up until he shoved the door open and saw exactly who it was. For a moment Puck could only stare at the sight before him.
It was Harry. The shorter boy was propped up on Puck's bed, laying on his stomach. That wasn't particularly surprising, as he'd already expected to find somebody in the room. What was surprising, was the fact that the shorter boy was wearing Puck's bath robe. And judging by his bare legs, the dark haired teenager wasn't wearing much underneath it. Harry didn't even look up to acknowledge the larger boy's presence when he entered, he just continued laying there idly looking through...
''Dude, are you looking at my porn? While wearing my bath robe?'' Puck demanded rhetorically.
''Yep! I'm surprised that this magazine is so well used, given how promiscuous you are.'' Harry replied cheerfully, as he continued skimming though the pages.
''What...you...'' Puck sputtered. ''You can't just come in here and make yourself at home!'' He protested.
''Aww, but your bed's so comfy! Care to join me?'' Harry purred invitingly, patting the covers next to him. Puck narrowed his eyes, silently giving his answer to that particular question.
''Your loss.'' Harry told him, shrugging uncaringly.
''Is there a reason that you're here?'' Puck queried exasperatedly, deciding to get to the heart of the matter. Bantering with Harry would just make him feel stupid and violated, so he decided to skip it. The green eyed boy grinned at his question, and carelessly tossed his pornography aside.
''I came to rehearse with you ofcourse. Your lovely mother was kind enough to let me in.'' Harry informed him. That made sense at least, since they still had to put their duet together and everything. But he had no idea how the Brit had managed to sweet talk his mom. Evil hypnosis maybe?
''And you're wearing my bathrobe because?'' The larger teen questioned.
''Because you wear this thing whilst naked, and i'm kinky like that.'' Harry answered honestly.
''Somehow that almost sounded acceptable coming out of your mouth...almost'' Puck teased him.
''There's very little that I do with my mouth that is acceptable. But just because it isn't acceptable, doesn't mean that you won't enjoy it.'' Harry shot back, smirking roguishly.
''Is that a fact?'' The larger boy wondered.
''More like a prediction.'' Harry told him, stretching out languidly on the bed.
Puck's treacherous eyes scanned the other boys lithe form as he flexed out his stiff muscles. He sternly chastised himself for looking and tried to pull his gaze away, but judging by the stare Harry fixed him with, the green eyed teen was well aware of what he'd been doing.
''So shall we get busy?'' Harry asked him huskily.
''W-what? No! Puckasaurus don't bend that way!'' Puck hurriedly refused, almost wincing at his pathetic stutter. Harry laughed at his response, causing him to bristle indignantly at his mockery.
''I meant shall we get busy with the project. But it's nice to know the first thing your mind jumps to.'' The Brit told him amusedly.
Puck mentally groaned. He hated that Harry seemed to be able to throw him off balance so easily. He was like some kind of mind ninja or something. It was kind of annoying, but it was hard to get mad at Harry when he was laying on his bed with his come hither stare, whilst taking off his bathro...
''Dude!'' Puck whined, even as he quickly averted his eyes. Harry laughed even harder, prompting Puck to glance back at him. He scowled when he realised that the other boy hadn't even been naked beneath the robe, but had just rolled up his pant legs to create the illusion of it.
''You are so fucking evil.'' Puck growled in annoyance.
''Don't hate me coz you ain't me.'' Harry retorted, smirking superiorly.
Doing a duet together was beginning to look like more trouble than it was worth. Puck was pretty certain that he'd be on a prescription of prozac by the time they were done with this project.
''So...did you have any ideas about what we should do together?'' Puck inquired. Harry waggled his eyebrows at the question, prompting the larger boy to quickly correct himself. ''I meant for the duet, you crazy little perv.''
''Oh yeah. That thing.'' Harry noted in sudden remembrance. ''I already picked an awesome song. We just need to divide the lyrics and work on our harmonies. I'll handle the choreography.''
Usually Puck would be glad that someone else was doing most of the work for him, but he was wary of letting the green eyed boy control the entire performance. Who knows what he'd make them do?
''What song did you pick? It better not be some stupid show tune.'' Puck grumbled.
''Don't worry, i'm not particularly fond of show tunes.'' Harry assured him. ''I chose a song from my vast repertoire, that I thought would be entertaining and will best compliment our personalities.''
''What do our personalties have to do with anything?'' Puck wondered. Harry sighed exasperatedly.
''When a song fits with you on a more personal level, then you emote better when you perform. Which makes you more interesting to watch.'' The green eyed boy patiently explained. ''Take Rachel and Mercedes as examples. Rachel produces every note perfectly and acts exactly as the song requires. But she doesn't necessarily feel what she's singing, she's just a capable actress. Mercedes however pours pure soul and emotion into every note that she belts out, and she generally sings songs from the same niche, because she can relate to the lyrics and the artist a lot better.''
Puck processed that. He got what Harry was saying. Just singing any old song because you can hit the right notes and put on the right expression, wouldn't be as good as a performance where you actually felt what you were doing.
''Okay i'll bite. What did you have in mind?'' Puck asked him.
''Well, since we're doing a duet, I had to pick something that fit both of us. In this case it meant finding qualities we both possess and selecting a song to compliment them. For example we're both aggressively confident and overtly sexual, so I simply chose something to emphasize those traits.'' Harry told him,with a self satisfied smile.
''So what did you pick?'' Puck finally demanded, getting annoyed that Harry was skirting the question.
When he told Puck what they'd be performing, the jock actually laughed. Not because it was unbelievable, but because it was going to be completely off the hook. He couldn't wait to show it at Sectionals
''So how inappropriate are we going to make this?'' Puck questioned gleefully.
''I come bearing leather pants.'' Harry said, by way of an answer. He leaned over the side of the bed and reached into a bag that Puck had failed to notice. After he pulled out what he expected Puck to wear, the larger boy actually felt slightly self conscious.
''Santana told me your measurements. No need to thank me, forcing you to wear these things is it's own reward.'' The Brit declared.
Two days later
''Holy crap.'' Tina muttered, her eyes wide in awe. Mercedes made a few unintelligible noises of agreement, as the two of them continued to stare at the pair of boys at the front of the room.
''So, what did you guys think?'' Puck asked their fellow glee club members. The duet partners were standing before the group, still panting slightly from their combined efforts.
Santana grinned lasciviously at the question, making her thoughts on the matter abundantly clear.
''I think that you two just fried my brain and melted my puss-''
''Santana!'' Miss Pillsbury scolded, cutting the girl off part way through her crude statement. The guidance counsellor had been invited to watch the performance by Mr Schuester, in his latest pathetic attempt to woo her. The poor woman looked equal parts flustered and horrified by what she'd just witnessed.
''Whilst Santana's words might be somewhat inappropriate, I must agree with the sentiment. That performance was very well done and extremely...titillating.'' Rachel spoke up, with a light blush on her face.
''We've moistened Berry's granny panties, my work here is done.'' Harry snarked.
''Harry!'' Mr Schuester snapped, with an edge of warning in his voice. The teacher was unsure of how to rate the song that Puck and Harry had just sung. It wasn't distastefully done, but he wasn't sure how a crowd and a panel of judges would react to it. Well, he knew how the female portion of the crowd would react, if the looks on the glee girls faces was any indication.
''That was all kinds of awesome!'' Artie enthused, offering the two performers a fist bump, which they graciously accepted. The school guidance counsellor didn't look quite as enthusiastic however.
''I'm not so sure. You boys sang beautifully, but I think that the song choice and dance moves were a little too much.'' Miss Pillsbury offered hesitantly.
''I agree.'' Mr Schuester quickly followed, glancing at the woman to see her reaction.
''Please you're just saying that to get in that Golden Tamarin's good graces, so that she'll dump the hot dentist.'' Harry sneered, dismissing the teachers opinion as irrelevant and ignoring his expression of outrage.
''What's a Golden Tamarin?'' Sam queried curiously.
''Google search it, the resemblance is uncanny.'' Harry informed him, whilst gesturing at Miss Pillsbury.
''Okay, that's enough!'' Mr Schuester barked. ''Harry i'm sorry, but I just don't think that performance will go over well at Sectionals.''
The man gazed at the two boys, showing a mixed expression of stern and apologetic. Puck looked down, clearly disappointed at the man's refusal. The teacher went to continue with the meeting and declare that Sam and Quinn would be singing, but Harry was far from cowed.
''How would you know what would be considered entertaining? The reason that this club lost at regionals was because you used a series of ancient Journey songs and featured Finn and Rachel prominently for all three of them.'' Harry remarked cuttingly, bringing the educator's attention back to him.
''Your ideas are stagnant and boring! So if you think i'm going to stand here whilst you try using the same outdated methods that worked in your glory days, then you're as stupid as your hair is greasy.'' The Brit folded his arms and stared the teacher down, as his rant came to an end.
Mr Schuester looked furious. None of them had seen him look that angry since the Kurt fiasco, when he pushed forward the idea that they perform a Britney Spears number. In fact the teacher looked madder now than he did then.
''Harry, go and wait for me in the principals office!'' The man barked, pointing him towards the door. The club had fallen silent to watch the altercation, and were looking back and forth between the two of them with trepidation.
''How about you go outside and play a rousing game of 'hide and go fuck yourself'?'' Harry shot back, making Rachel gasp aloud at his audacity. Finn leapt to his feet, seeing an opportunity to help defend his favourite teacher and see that Harry got what was coming to him.
''Sit down, or i'll put you down.'' Harry snarled, causing Finn to immediately drop back into his seat without argument.
''You're completely out of line!'' Mr Schuester chastised him.
''Why? Because I disagree with you? Or because I actually know what i'm talking about? I didn't win two European championships through sheer dumb luck. I did it with hard work, preparation and moderate amounts of sabotage!'' The green eyed boy fired back, not giving an inch as he stared the educator down.
''Sabotage?'' Mike prompted, momentarily derailing the argument.
''One of the Italian choirs was really good.'' Harry told them, by way of an explanation. Which coming from Harry made complete sense. Deciding to get back on topic, the Brit turned back to the club director and coolly addressed him.
''I propose that we put it to a vote. It's not fair that you let your own biased opinion dictate what the club should do. Especially since we're the ones doing the performing, whilst you just sit there with your fingers crossed.'' The dark haired boy declared, looking around imperiously.
''That sounds good to me.'' Puck chimed in, quickly agreeing.
''Totally. You might be finally giving us all a fair chance for solos, but that doesn't mean much if you don't let us have any input on what we perform.'' Santana added. Several of the others voiced their agreement, causing Mr Schuester to frown.
''Okay then. Those of you that think Puck and Harry should perform at Sectionals, raise your hands.'' Will asked them agreeably.
Puck, Harry, Santana, Brittany, Tina, Mike, Artie, Mercedes, Sam and Rachel raised there hands. Only Quinn and Finn kept them down. Quinn did so out of simple dislike for Harry. Finn did so out of dislike for Harry, lingering resentment for Puck and slight jealousy that someone else was taking command of his team.
''Looks like the aye's have it.'' Harry pointed out smugly, given that only two had answered nay. Brittany started cautiously probing around her eyelids, with an expression of consternation.
''The eyes have what? Are they doing something?'' She asked Santana, sounding worried. The dark haired girl quickly reassured her that her eyeballs were not in fact sentient and that Harry was just being a dick.
Mr Schuster fought back a groan of frustration. But in the end the kids did have a point. It was up to them what they'd like to do for Sectionals. And maybe he was agreeing with Emma for the wrong reasons. He did think that the sexual nature of the dancing would need to be pulled back a bit though.
''Alright then, you and Puck can perform for Sectionals.'' He finally agreed.
Puck whooped loudly in excitement and pulled the shorter boy into a bone crushing hug. Ofcourse with Harry being Harry, he instantly started making the hug less appropriate, ignoring Puck's feeble attempts to escape his clutches.
''But Harry,'' Mr Schuester addressed him, gaining the boys attention from where he was sliding his hands up Puckerman's shirt, despite the larger boy's futile resistance. ''You've got detention with me tomorrow night, for your language and talking back to a teacher.''
''Ofcourse Sir, I don't know what came over me. I just get so passionate about show choir. I promise that it won't happen again, and i'll accept my punishment without complaint.'' Harry said sweetly, looking like the picture of innocence with his wide, sorrowful, emerald eyes.
The next day, during Harry's detention.
Harry had briefly considered going to his detention and instigating a scenario, that he could use to sexually blackmail Mr William Schuester. Unfortunately he had received a summons from General Zodd, meaning that he was forced to attend to a council of the Legion of Doom. The note that Hedwig had delivered to him, simply left instructions to meet at the rendezvous point and to adorn an appropriate disguise. Given the fact that they had never even established a rendezvous point, Harry was left suitably confused as to where he was supposed to go.
Currently he was reclined upon a park bench, with his face smeared in black and white face paint. Complementing the look was a studded leather jacket, with a dog collar and a pair of loose leather pants.
''I love you Gene Simmons!'' A passing woman screamed. Harry raised his hand in the universal sign for 'Rock on' and waggled his tongue excessively, prompting the woman to scream even louder in fan-girlish delight.
''Good, you dressed incognito.'' A voice praised him. Turning to the person that had appeared next to him on the bench, he immediately recognised his aunt. The woman was adorned in a skimpy red one piece bathing suit, with a long platinum blonde wig and a pair of immeasurably large inflatable breasts.
''You summoned me?'' Harry prompted her, getting straight down to business. Before his aunt could answer him, a pair of teenage boys excitedly came running up to them. They paused and stared for a moment before finally speaking.
''Wow it's really...wait...are you really Pamela Anderson?'' One of the teens questioned, eyeing the disguised woman sceptically.
''I have big boobs and enjoy making poor quality sex tapes with hepatitis riddled drummers.'' Sue deadpanned scathingly.
''Wow, you really are Pamela Anderson!'' The second boy gasped in awe. ''Can I have your autograph?'' He pleaded.
''Contrary to popular belief, i'm a natural blonde. Meaning that signing my own name is beyond my literary capabilities. Now go and get me a Zima and some cocaine before I strike you down with my immense chest fruit.'' The cheerleading coach sneered.
The two boys swiftly complied with the order, fleeing the park in search of the woman's desired products. The pair on the bench watched them go for a moment, before Sue reached into the vast crevasse between her fake breasts and extracted her trusty dart gun. With two quick pulls of the trigger, followed by twin yelps of pain, the running teenagers slumped to the ground unconscious.
''Outstanding.'' Sue enthused, eyeing the results of her excellent marksmanship.
''So that's where you've been getting your research materials from.'' Harry observed, eyeing the prone figures critically. ''It also explains the greatly reduced number of teenage stoners in this town.''
Sue nodded sharply in confirmation of his assessment. Then, once again reaching between her inflated melons, she withdrew her phone and hit the speed dial, summoning a detachment of Cheerios to collect her new test subjects.
''Enough prattle. Let's get down to business. Where's the Winged Avenger?'' Sue demanded, wondering why one of their members was absent from the mandatory meeting.
''She's scouting the perimeter for enemy surveillance.'' Harry informed her. Sue nodded her head in satisfaction. Her enemies were everywhere after all, so caution was always best, hence their use of cunning disguises.
''Very well then. What do you have for me?'' She inquired.
''I've made significant progress. My induction into the Cheerios doesn't seem to have affected my standing with the other glee club members. Additionally I have secured a lead roll in our upcoming Sectionals set list. I openly defied Will Schuester and gained the duet by calling the rest of the team to vote in my favour.'' Harry reported concisely.
''Only Quinn and Finn refused to back the notion. I estimate however, that I will have the entire club under my sway by the time Regionals rolls around. I will then institute a vote of no confidence and replace Finn and Rachel as co-captains, with Santana at my side. By that point Schuester will be reduced to little more than the group's travel agent, and his golden couple will be inconsequential. Then you'll be free to run the club as you see fit, with me as your medium.'' As the boy finished the outlining of his scheme, his aunt graced him with a rare smile of approval.
''Excellent work. Focus on further courting the other inbred abominations to your side. For a vote of no confidence in the current captains, you'll need it to be a unanimous decision.'' Sue advised her protege, as she adjusted her colossal fakies.
''Acknowledged.'' Harry said.
''Outstanding. This meeting is adjourned, I have a beach to patrol.'' And with those parting words the cheerleading coach got up and jogged away, with her falsified assets somehow bouncing in super slow motion.
''I can't rightly fathom how i'm related to someone like that.'' Harry muttered, watching the woman go. With a sigh he rose to his feet and sauntered off through the park, making his way home. As he walked he spied a young woman, trying and failing to light a cigarette. Quickly opening his mouth, Harry released a jet of flame, simultaneously torching the woman's blouse and successfully lighting her cigarette.
''Wow, thanks Mr Simmons!'' She gasped in awe and gratitude.
''Don't thank me, just pay it forward...preferably by setting someone else ablaze.'' He urged her, and without further ado he walked away singing softly to himself.
''I wanna rock and roll all night and party everyday.''
Puck was pretty excited. He genuinely enjoyed glee club, it was his favourite part of going to school. And he'd never had a solo part in any of their big competitions, unless you counted the single line he'd had at regionals last year. It was going to be awesome beating those old fogies and the Garglers, and knowing that it was partly due to his badassness. New Directions had this in the bag.
He wouldn't of had the chance to do this, if it wasn't for Harry though. The green eyed boy had volunteered to be his duet partner in the first place, and the way he'd talked back to Mr Schue had been really fucking hot. Or awesome. Yep, definitely awesome. Because Harry wasn't hot. Well, he was hot, really hot, but only in a strictly observational way. Still, he was glad that Harry had spoken up and made everyone vote, otherwise they might not have gotten the duet. And they totally deserved it, because their performance was kick ass.
Thinking about Harry prompted Puck to remember his new 'project'. He was curious about the other boy. He'd been with them for a few weeks now, and Puck liked to think that Harry liked him the most. Except for maybe Santana and Brittany. And Puck liked him too, which was a bit of a rarity seeing as most people tended to suck in his opinion. But he didn't really know anything about Harry, except that he could sing and dance amazingly and that he had a passion for gymnastics. Oh, and he was seriously messed up in the head.
Internet stalking seemed like the best way to get the information he wanted. It was the modern way to do things after all. A simple web search for the name Harry Potter, didn't get the results he wanted. He was looking for his Facebook and a few embarrassing school pictures, but everything that came up involved a bunch or horrific murders. Which obviously wasn't what he was looking for. He did feel a little bit sorry for this other Harry Potter though. After seeing so many articles for the same thing, Puck decided to put his search for Harry on hold and indulge his morbid curiosity.
The story of the murders that had popped up was seriously screwed, but also pretty interesting. Apparently a psychopathic serial killer had gone on a rampage and started murdering people, that attended the same school that he once did. The cops couldn't catch him so he decided to add a new element to his twisted game. He sent his former professor various riddles, that if solved would indicate his next victim. Then he'd go after the target and see if he was foiled. And he never was. Until he sent one particular clue, that could only relate to one of two families. Both sets of parents had attended the school and both had sons of the same age that were born only a day apart. Which meant that the authorities couldn't tell which family he was after. So the families were placed into protective custody, where they should have been safe. They weren't though. The first murderer had a copycat killer, a protege. A woman just as crazy as he was. She'd gone after one of the families and tortured the parents to insanity before she was interrupted and captured. The original killer, stylised by the name of Voldemort, had found the other family. He'd killed them, killed their guards and even killed their family pet.
Then he'd come up with a whole new game to play. He'd left the couple's infant son alive and unharmed, with the exception of carving a lightning bolt into his forehead. Then to the stupefaction of the police force, Voldemort had simply disappeared. The ceasing of the gruesome murders had brought relief to the private schools alumni and for eleven years there was no sign of the man who'd committed them. Then in the very year that Harry Potter had started at the academy his parents attended, the murders had begun again. Except this time it wasn't the headmaster receiving the clues. The boy was. The boy who lived. The one victim that Voldemort had ever spared became his new opponent in a sick game.
There were other articles after that. Each seeming more terrible than the last. Puck didn't do more than skim the titles of them though. There was no point in delving any further into the even more disturbing material. After moving away from the more twisted websites, Puck finally found Harry's Facebook page. There was a ton of pictures of him and a bunch of his friends, the majority featuring a pair of girls. A bushy haired brunette and a vacant eyed blonde, that were both pretty smoking. But there was a particular one that caught his attention. Harry was sat in front of a sparkling blue lake. He was obviously fairly young in the photo, maybe ten or eleven years old. But none of that caught Puck's attention. In this picture, unlike all of the later ones, Harry's hair was cut extremely short. Not that his hair was particularly long now, he said that he kept it that way because it was less messy when it was shorter. But in the picture it was short enough that he lacked his current fringe, the fringe that hid the majority of his forehead and the scar that it bore. A scar shaped like a bolt of lightning.
''Oh fuck.'' Puck muttered, his eyes widened in realisation. He quickly went back to the articles and began reading with a new fervour, becoming more disturbed the more that he read.
When Harry was eleven he'd started at a school called Hogwarts Academy, a school for the gifted. The man who murdered his parents had undergone plastic surgery and acquired a teaching job at the school, under the alias of a Professor Quirrel, resurfacing again right under everyone's noses. He'd started sending Harry letters, containing hints as to his identity and leading the boy along like a lamb to the slaughter, in a fucked up game. But Harry figured it out. During a teachers conference weekend, with only the prefects remaining at the school as authority figures, Voldemort had returned and an angry eleven year old Harry had confronted him. He'd attempted to strangle the boy and would have succeeded, had the boy not set him on fire with nearby candle holder. For some reason the man had fled, badly burned, without finishing the job.
When Harry was twelve, someone had begun attacking students at the school, injecting them with something to render them comatose and then badly beating them. Again Harry had begun receiving letters, urging him to solve what was happening. The police had gotten involved, after finding out that the pre-teen had been in correspondence with his parents killer the year before. They'd accused Harry of attacking the other students and forging the new letters that were 'delivered' to him. He'd been called mentally unstable, a sociopath who was damaged from witnessing his parents murders as an infant. In the end it was discovered that the attacker had been an eleven year old girl, that was obsessed with Harry and decided to go through deadly extremes in order to get his attention. She'd imitated a serial killer simply because she believed that it was the only way to get his complete undivided focus. Crazy little bitch. She was even Harry's friends sister, which was even more fucked up.
When Harry was thirteen Sirius Black had escaped maximum security prison. Black was Harry's godfather and his dad's best friend. He was also a former police officer that was charged with revealing the Potter's location to Voldemort and assisting him in the slaughter of the six guards, that had been placed with the family for their protection. He was the only person aside from the other six officers that had known of the family's whereabouts. He'd then gone on the run and been confronted by another friend of the family and engaged in a shoot out with the other man, where he'd proceeded to kill thirteen innocent bystanders in a fit of rage. Long story short, Sirius Black turned out to have been framed and only escaped to find the man who'd actually done the deed. Peter Pettigrew had sold out his friends to a murderer for a couple of million bucks, which again was somehow deduced by Harry who seemed to like playing junior detective and attracting trouble of the deadly variety.
When Harry was fourteen he'd been entered into a school tournament, from which he'd been abducted along with his boyfriend, seventeen year old Cedric Diggory. The authorities found them three days later when Harry had driven a stolen van into the country town of Little Hangleton as a beaten bloody mess, with Cedric's body in the passenger seat. Details of what exactly happened were never released to the press, only a statement that Voldemort was responsible and back in action.
When Harry was fifteen, Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped from solitary confinement in a woman's mental institution. With Voldemort's protege on the loose, the paparazzi had concocted some bullshit story, saying that Harry was lying about being abducted by Voldemort. They claimed that the man hadn't returned to start killing again. Some of the accusations they made were disgusting. Then the police had gone on record as saying that the murderer had made an attempt on Harry's life when he was eleven, but that they'd never made the information available to the public. That got the press off his back, but the allegations from everyone around him and the loss of his boyfriend had made the teenager withdrawn, so much so that he didn't tell anyone that Voldemort had started to contact him again. Through the cunning use of a falsified voice recording, Voldemort had lead the boy to believe that he had his godfather hostage and threatened the man's life if Harry didn't do as he said. Again the press covered up exactly what transpired, but the gist of it was that Harry was lured to some remote location by a psychopath with a grudge. Fortunately one of his friends, Hermione Granger, had discovered his correspondence with Voldemort and learnt that Sirius Black was currently at work in London. She'd contacted the police who'd rushed to the rescue, with Black leading the charge. Harry's godfather was shot dead by Bellatrix Lestrange.
There was more after that, but Puck didn't read any of it. He'd definitely seen enough. And Puck had skimmed at lot of what he'd read already, so he knew that there was a lot more to the story than he'd gotten. Since what he'd gotten was majorly fucked up, he didn't really want all the details. Part of him was sure that Harry definitely wouldn't want him reading this stuff and he definitely didn't want to confront the other boy about it. Which left him one course of action, he'd just have to be Harry's friend and if Harry felt like sharing, then he'd tell him. And if he didn't want to tell him, then that was okay too as it wasn't really any of Puck's business. One thing worried him though. He'd stumbled across this stuff whilst doing something as simple as looking for a Facebook page, so how long would it be before someone else at school came across it?
Puck sighed as he continued to idly look through Harry's photo albums. Now that he knew a little more about his circumstances, a few of the pictures made a lot more sense to him, and he couldn't help but notice the massive differences between Harry at eleven and the ice prince he was at seventeen. Upon looking through some of the more entertaining snap shots Puck opened the album labled 'Family Holidays'. Knowing that Harry was an emancipated orphan made him curious about what other relatives the other boy might have. As soon as he clapped eyes on the first picture however he froze in disbelief.
The image depicted Harry, at maybe a year or so younger than he currently was, standing in front of a pyramid with a blinding smile on his face. To his left was a woman about half a head shorter than Harry, which given that the boy wasn't particularly tall was somewhat surprising. Puck felt that she appeared familiar. The look of her face was indicative of someone with Down's Syndrome, but the happy grin she was wearing left him uncertain of that fact. It was the woman on Harry's right that made Puck freeze up in gut clenching horror. It wasn't possible, he was obviously mistaken, but the caption beneath the photo suggested otherwise.
Me, Aunt Jean and Aunt Sue, outside the tomb of the Pharaoh Sekhemkhet.
Note: Ancient Egyptian pit traps are a bitch. Never trust a tour guide with a gold tooth, I've met blind gophers suffering from radiation poisoning that give better directions.
AN/ For Timberstar, who requested to see who can make a store employee cry the fastest Harry or Santana? Let the challenge commence!
The persistent buzz of his phone was incredibly annoying, no matter how hard he tried to focus on more pressing matters. Santana growled in frustration, pulling her lips from his throat and glaring at the vibrating device.
''That damn thing better shut up. I needs ta get my mack on.'' She insisted, wriggling impatiently on Harry's lap.
''It's not my fault that every mother fucker under the sun wants to hear my voice all the time.'' Harry protested defensively. Santana narrowed her eyes, before deftly snatching up the phone and shoving it into his hand.
''Answer it.'' She commanded sternly.
''Hmm, feeling demanding are we? Any other orders for me?'' He purred, sliding a warm calloused hand up her silky smooth thigh.
''Answer the damn phone and take your pants off. In that order.'' Santana replied, a dirty grin lighting her face.
Harry swiftly complied and brought the phone to his ear. He would have answered the call, if not for someone knocking on the dressing room door.
''Um, excuse me Miss? Other people need to use the changing room, and our security officers can see what you and your...friend are doing in there.'' A snide voice called through the wooden barrier.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the rude interruption and unceremoniously shoved the Latina off of his lap, as he got up to wrench the door open.
''Hey, watch it! I'd call you a cunt, if you didn't lack the warmth and depth to be one.'' Santana protested viciously, from her new position on the floor.
''Once again you prove that the smartest thing to ever come out of your mouth is a penis.'' Harry shot back at her.
''You're lucky that you're so nice to look at, because you're a bitch to listen to.'' Santana rejoined scathingly.
By this point Harry had already opened the door, leaving their argument in plain view of other shoppers, who had stopped to stare at the commotion. The boy waiting on the other side of the door gaped stupidly for a moment, before loudly clearing his throat and gaining the pairs attention.
''I'm afraid that the manager wants you to leave the store.'' He told them sternly. ''And he'd like you to get dressed first.'' He added, glancing at their shirtless torsos, though mercifully Santana was still wearing a bra.
''Wow, you're the first gay guy to ever tell me to cover up my glorious form.'' Harry noted in surprise. The store attendant's eyes widened at his statement.
''W-what? I'm not gay!'' He swiftly denied.
''So you're in the closet then? How do you manage that with the hair?'' Santana asked curiously.
''What's wrong with my hair?'' The young man asked defensively.
''It makes you look so flaming that you're practically on fire. I'd stomp you out, but I don't want my foot to risk getting AIDS.'' Santana mocked him. The boy gaped at the insult, his eyes becoming suspiciously glassy.
''No kidding. If Andy Dick and Richard Simmons had a love child, then you'd probably be the flamboyant idiot that it grew up to be.'' Harry said, sneering disdainfully. ''Although on second thought you might actually be straight, given how badly dressed you are.''
The clerk's lower lip trembled slightly at that remark, even as he took a step away from the relentless barrage.
''Good point.'' Santana acknowledged. ''Who picked out your clothes, a blind guy who hates you?''
''T-the store makes us w-wear GAP brand clothing t-to work.'' The boy stuttered. ''And my h-hair is l-like this n-naturally.'' He added with a hint of defiance.
''Bullshit.'' Santana gasped, staring at the boy's frizzy head in consternation. ''God must hate you!''
''No shit. That's definitely a double bagger. One for your head, and one for mine in case yours falls off.'' Harry tactfully agreed, as he peered at the boy's name badge.
''Your names Jeremiah? Eww, you're not one of those reformed Amish people are you?'' Harry demanded, wrinkling his nose in distaste. By this point the employee's eyes were swimming with unshed tears, which were only held at bay by his pathetic sniffling.
Santana had just opened her mouth to deal the finishing blow, when Brittany walked up next to her, having just arrived back from her trip to the bathroom. She eyed the boy in front of her thoughtfully, scanning him from head to toe.
''You have bad hair.'' She finally decided. Then to the awkward surprise of the crowd, her words proved to much for the Gap worker and he fell to his knees, sobbing hysterically. Harry and Santana eyed his prostrate form curiously.
''Well that was unexpected.'' Santana pointed out, nudging the boy with her boot. Harry nodded, conceding to her observation, before turning to address the gathered crowd of shoppers.
''People! Hear me! We did not do this for you, nor for ourselves, but for the generations to come, so that they may get their freak on in the GAP changing rooms without fear of persecution! For freedom!'' He grandly proclaimed. The people cheered wildly for their new prophet, as he led Santana and Brittany back into the privacy of the dressing room.
''Okay girls, first one to find an outfit that makes me unable to enunciate properly wins something shiny from Tiffany's.''
AN/ Was that Okay? Please love me, I can't handle rejection. Or more accurately, I don't handle it well. Please keep reviewing and giving me more fun requests, they entertain me greatly! Next chapter Sectionals, and here comes Luna! xxx