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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
Rose and Fleur met at Hogwarts. They exchanged a whole army of lovers within their lesbian circles, as lesbians tend to do in school, and eventually decided that they liked each other the most. Harry had a distinct feeling that Rose loved Fleur because Fleur laughed the loudest when Harry invited Rose and all her friends to one of his earlier performances.
From what he knew, Rose and Else had wanted to get married for years. The only reason they hadn't done it was the magical law.
She lived in the outskirts of central London. Her home was a tall, two-story building that she owned, which she never failed to mention during all her visits to his workplace or home, of which there were few.
With his hands pressed against his chest in an unconsciously defensive posture, he knocked on the door. Rose's radiant face brightened with joy when she saw him, and then the joy slowly turned into a cool, joyless steeliness.
"What are you doing here? I'm expecting guests." It was the response of a sister he hadn't seen in over two months.
"Good to see you too, Rose. Can I come inside?" She made a face. "I guess? But you can't... eat anything. Or touch anything."
She stepped inside. Harry fought to keep his heart from racing at the sight of the outfit Rose had chosen for the evening—a tight black cocktail dress that plunged deeply at her neckline. She looked stunning. Sexy stockings led down to high red heels, and Harry was assaulted by thoughts of holding his sister and kissing her precisely. The house smelled of freshly baked bread and fresh cheese. Many bottles of wine were chilling in various buckets of ice on different tables and stands.
"Oh God," Harry thought. And it was only Monday. "Is that Narcissa?" Fleur exclaimed. "I was waiting to tell him that funny story about the horse. You know, the one where—" she went to meet him.
Blonde and sensuous Fleur was a walking pin-up model. Harry had thought about her more than once. About her and Rose, together. Watching them kiss was like witnessing a star explosion. You couldn't look away. It was easy to get burned by it. She wore tight white leggings and a fashionable leather jacket, with high gold heels on her feet. "What is he doing here?" Fleur asked, raising her lip in a long, sneering smile.
The whole day with this. Desperately wanting to be done with judgment and hostility, he turned back to Rose.
"I need a place to stay, Rose."
"Of course you do. Do you need ten thousand dollars in the meantime?"
"Sure," Fleur said, giggling. "Or maybe we should just buy him a house? What do you think?"
Rose's eyes lit up, clearly enjoying Fleur's enthusiasm. "Yes, what do you think, little brother? Do you want us to give you a house too? I mean, we have all this charity. Might as well give you some of it."
Venom. Pure venom.
"You two are not fair. You won't even... hear me out, and I've just arrived."
"What is there to hear, Harry? You're ruining my party, and it hasn't even started yet." She placed her hands on her well-formed hips. "What's the matter? Tell me, what do you need? Money? Time? Do you want me to tell my friend about your pathetic shows, where you degrade women and make those poor former models dress like idiots in feathers?"
"Feathers... are in the show. Why does everyone hate feathers?"
"What?"
"Nothing." He ran a hand over his face. "Padma left me. The assistants walked out. And I'm just... drowning in debts, and everything went wrong. Everything. I have nothing to boast about. Nothing, damn it. And you're the only person in the world that I know. The only one. I came to you because I'm suffering. And you're family. And I need you. I just need a place where I could stay until I sort all of this out."
Rose and Fleur exchanged glances. Fleur shrugged slightly, then looked at him as if to say: Damn. Maybe he deserves a break?
"If he stays in the back during the party..." Fleur began.
Harry caught on. One wild hope for human connection today. Human kindness. "Yes." He clapped his hands together. "Absolutely. In the back. I'll even hide the car on the street. I won't say a word. Just one night. Please?"
He took Rose's hands in his, squeezing them together.
But a wicked smile appeared on Rose's face. She stepped back, shaking her head.
"You need to leave, Harry. This is my home, and you're not welcome in it."
His heart dropped to the floor. Behind him. "Please, Rose. Really. I'm begging you. This is not the time for... for cruel jokes. I need you. I really do."
"I'm sorry, Harry. But I'm not sorry. I never wanted you in my life. Now, sprawled at my feet, it's a perfect opportunity to show you that. Maybe now I won't have to suffer because of your ridiculously stupid life."
Somehow - and Harry wasn't sure how - he found himself outside. Had they thrown him out? Did he leave on his own accord? His mind felt like it was skipping through time. He only moved when he noticed the arriving guests.
He had to stay away from them. Otherwise, Rose would be mad at him.
Harry stumbled. He felt intoxicated from isolation. He had lost all connections with the world. Finally, he made his way back to his car, which he had to drive here because otherwise the Portkey would have thrown him far away if he wanted to use the fireplace or the illegal Apparition point.
By the road, there was a pharmacy with a large parking lot. He could park there and get some sleep for a while.
EARLY in the morning, he woke up with a purpose. It was quite simple. He had almost no assets, and his wife was ready to take everything he had, no matter what he could say. The only thing to do was to sell everything he could before she stripped him naked and took things from the car.
He drove to his workshop and started filling it with materials that he thought could fetch a fair price.
Winters were cold, summers were hot, and in between, the months swung between warm and cool. It was fall now, and because it was fall, all the women began wearing alluring tights and sexy high heels, and Harry couldn't help but regret that he didn't know all of this was coming. He would have given Padma more reasons to be angry. An affair right now would be something hellish - any human kindness.
Certainly, a partner who didn't bring in money, who didn't give his all. But that was the good part - a man's duty was to stand by someone in their hardship, right? Lean times, when nothing looked promising. For God's sake, if there was one thing you could count on, wasn't it that? Wasn't it marriage?
Marriage, he thought, or family. At least Rose couldn't divorce him. Last night, however, she did everything but that. He didn't know when, if ever, he would gather the courage to talk to his beautiful sister and her delightfully curvaceous lover again.
God, even now, knowing what they had done to him - all those women - he couldn't help but find them insanely attractive. His curse was the desire for beautiful things around him.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he objectified them too much. Forgot what they wanted. Put himself first.
But damn it, if they had just worked with him a little, given him some more time, maybe he would have been able to truly, truly get back on his feet. Then he would treat them the way they wanted. However they needed it.
And damn it, wasn't he supportive of Padma getting her degree? Her job at that company? And where did it lead?
She was probably giving some fucking potions master a blowjob now. The thought made him sick.
In his workshop, he managed to gather a few potential items to sell. As an illusionist, he always had some gadgets, and several dozen books on magic.
He stopped in front of the white room. God, how much had he invested in it? And he was never able to make it work. Not completely.
The white room was his experiment when he still worked as a mind healer.
The subconscious was like a swamp full of mines. If it engulfed you and covered your life, it would tear you apart. No one was safe from it. Everyone acted under the influence of subconscious impulses. Harry knew that even he did. He knew that his obsession with his sister - no matter how much he denied it - was part of a desire for some form of feminine love in his life after his godmother adamantly refused to show him any.
And there was a time, a very short time in his childhood, when he and Rose were close. Some part of him held onto that, trying to forever recreate that blind, uncomplicated sympathy that simply appreciated someone else for being there during the struggle.
Anyway. Everyone had their own problems. Harry tried to remind himself of that. Perhaps to free himself from the guilt of never being able to convince his sister that he was worth her time. If only he had been good enough...
No. He knew that was madness. Her dissatisfaction with him was her problem. Just like Tracey. Just like Padma.
But damn it. If one person wanted you out of their life, you just didn't agree with them. But if every person wanted you out of their life...
Maybe it was all because of bad timing. God, what he would do for a session in the white room. Too bad he didn't trust anyone but himself to operate it.
He opened the door. Inside, there was sterile, flat air. The assistants didn't know about it, he was almost certain. Even Padma didn't know.
The idea was that if you could completely empty someone's mind, you could free them from all the subconscious junk that had been stuck in them since childhood. Disarm all the mines. Remove all the garbage. Leave only a simple, easy-to-navigate grassy plain full of life and light.
But it worked... too well. He had put one woman in it for an hour, and she didn't remember her name or how she got there for over six. And then she showed no signs of improvement. She didn't respond to any stimuli or suggestions that Harry introduced into her life.
He always thought that if he slightly increased the frequency, he could achieve really interesting results, but honestly, it was too much to experiment with. The stakes were the human mind. He couldn't just erase someone and reprogram them.
After that first attempt, he gave up. Of course, he still tinkered with it from time to time. He changed the frequency, altered the tones, experimented with different intonations and trance patterns. But he never put another person in there.
It wasn't that the woman had anything against it. God, no. She absolutely loved it. That whole empty space in her mind was the main stress-relieving mechanism. But she didn't remember that she had already paid him. She didn't remember her terrible mood before coming. She didn't remember that her children needed someone to pick them up from extracurricular activities before Hogwarts, and there were already five owls waiting for her in his workshop with letters.
It was too powerful a tool. It worked like dynamite while Harry was only looking for a chisel. So he set it aside.
Maybe it was an opportunity, he thought gently. To bring it back.
No, better not. He already had enough trouble. An hour later, after packing and a suitcase, he headed towards Borgin and Burkes. After Hogwarts, Harry often visited this street. It was a very dark part of magical London, and Tracey always told him that she never felt safe walking around the area. She was too pretty to be seen in such a neighborhood without a wand in hand or a big, burly hulk by her side to keep her in check. Harry was quite muscular and kept himself in shape, but he wasn't the kind of hulk she talked about.
Chapters 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 are already on Pa tr eon
If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit
Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)