The Best of Both Worlds 1/?
Title: The Best of Both Worlds
Pairing: haven't decided yet? Probably SiChul, JaeChun, and HoMin.
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Disclaimer: We own the plot, nothing more. There are not enough demetors in the world to keep them captive in my closet.
Oh goddess, what have we done. This is so warped. After months of not being able to write anything, THIS is what our poor creativity-deprived brains have randomly come up with as acceptable for you poor unfortunate souls to actually get to read.
♤ ♠ ♧ ♣ ♡ ♥ ♢ ♦ ♤ ♠ ♧ ♣ ♡ ♥ ♢ ♦
Once upon a messed up fanfic... there was an overly done plot-line involving young pre-Hogwarts Harry Potter who was locked unceremoniously inside his relatives cupboard.
Young Harry did not like it. He also couldn't quite understand why, although his relatives were all British, he was quite obviously Korean. Plus, he was pretty sure his name was Siwon.
But somehow, he supposed, that wasn't entirely important.
What was important was how exactly he was going to kill the black widow dangling in front of his nose.
His half-mangled pillow that he had used for the past 6 years, since infancy, wasn't the most terrifying weapon of death.
He would have to settle for squishing it with his hand, but he really hated that feeling. The point where your hand flies, makes contact, and you can actually feel the squish that splurts the spider's life out... Harry/Siwon really disliked causing such a messy death.
Now a shoe, that was the best way to go. Unfeeling, and very business-like. He rather felt it dignified. As dignified as a six-year-old can feel at any rate.
He looked at the spider and then raised his hand. The floorboards above his head rattled and dust began to fall into his eyes. The spider, not knowing his luck, skittered back to skulk in its web.
Ah, Harry thought, they're up.
He could already hear his uncle's heavy breathing from his laborious walk down into the kitchen and his aunt's attempts at cajoling the whale, er...his cousin awake.
It always went the same every morning; Harry mouthed the words with his aunt.
"Come along Dudders! Time to get upsy!"
*GRUNT*
"We Need to eat some breakfast to make you big and strong, okay precious?"
*GROAN*
"Oh, Duddy babyyy, you must be sooo tired! How can Mummy help?"
*THUNK NOISE*
"Mumsy will give you kisses..." and so on, and so forth, with much disgust. Harry didn't get kisses, so he could only assume how ridiculous the daily upstairs scene was.
Finally there was a sliding noise and the door to his prison under the stairs opened and he was able to climb out, still holding onto his inefficient weapon of fluffy death. Both his uncle and his cousin had a tendency to be short tempered, so one could only be too careful. Harry wondered if he was getting cynical in his young age.
If Harry/Siwon was telling the truth he could swear his actual age was 24... but at the moment he felt too small for it.
Anyway, his uncle was mumbling something at him and brandishing the frying pan, so it was reasonable to asume -- if he did not want to get hit with it -- that he should complete his morning chores of cooking slave, cleaning slave, and verbal abuse target.
Why his relatives, if they really were that, felt that insulting his parentage at every waking moment of the day in front of their very impressionable young nephew was in fact a wondrous parenting technique, was beyond him. So he just kept flipping the pancakes.
"Are you having a busy day at work today, Vernie-poo?"
Harry poured the batter. His uncle crinkled the newspaper in the same way he did his mustache.
"'Bout the same as usual, but I have to prepare for a new meeting on another deal we are hoping will go through."
Flip. Harry turned it over and stared at the golden perfection. He readjusted the pillow between his legs as he waited for the other side to cook
"Mummy, I want eggs! 'N I want toast too!"
"Calm down, Duddy, Mummy will feed you soon. Put on your bibby~", she crooned.
Harry rolled his eyes, and as he moved the finished pancake onto the plate, he looked to the side. His eyes cought onto something quite unusual.
Now, what was usual when looking outside the kitchen window from Harry's vantage would be a rather uneventful view of his old neighbor's wilting tulip collection.
Today, there was an older man, well not really old at all, just old to anyone who is under the age of 13. He was clothed in all black with long black hair. The hair, Harry thought, should have been greasy, and the nose should have been crooked, but in fact, it wasn't. He was young, had traces of dimples to his cheeks, and was observing the scene playing out in their kitchen in what appeared to be disturbed fascination. Siwon decided to smile.
The man blushed and ducked out of sight. Harry/Siwon wondered if he was imagining things.
He added bacon the the pan and looked back.
The top of the man's ponytail was visible amongst the pathetic blossoms. Siwon felt satisfied he couldn't make up a ponytail, and turned off the burner.
**Ponytails are, after all, a totally non-randomly-imaginable thing. Try it. Right now. I'm sure you can't.
"BOY -"
"Yes, yes, Uncle. You hate me, I'm unnatural, stupid, lazy, inconvenient, ridiculous, be-speckled, puny, and give you the willies on several occasions. Breakfast is ready; Can I go outside?"
The mountain of Vernon blinked, unable to really process all of that too quickly. There was a rough, squeaking, mumble-grumble noise that Harry took affirmatively.
"Thanks."
Dudley began to writhe in his chair. "Mummy he gets to go outside, I wanna go outside! Duddy wants to go too -- me tooo -- me tooo!"
Unusually non-accomodating, the woman named after a flower, who looks nothing like one, held him firmly in his chair. "it's eating time, Duddy. Let Mummy feed you."
Harry escaped outside. The last thing he needed to was a Ferengi feeding ritual to witness.
He ran around the side of the house, but couldn't see the man who was wearing the black dress.
"Are you Harry?"
Harry/Siwon looked up and saw the man sitting nonchalantly on the rooftop.
"Mostly, I guess. Who are you and how'd you get up there? Can I go up there too?"
"My name is Severus," the non-British person frowned slightly. "or Yoochun. You can call me Yoochun."
"You can call me Siwon, then," Harry said quickly, glad he didn't have to pretend to be so British anymore.
"Siwon? Okay, then," the man smiled and Siwon found himself smiling too. "How old are you, Siwon?"
"Six," he said, and adjusted the glasses on his nose. He wasn't sure why he wore them, he did have perfect vision, but every time he took them off, he always found they had a way of reappearing in the text.
"Six? And you can cook?" Yoochun's tone of voice betrayed a hint of disapproval.
Harry shrugged. "I can cook, clean, sew, knit, do yard work, plumbing, kill pests, and repair broken television sets. My cousin goes through a lot of television sets." Harry had counted them off his fingers. Yoochun's mouth went slack-jawed.
"They are treating you like a damned house-elf!" he hissed under his breath, but Siwon's ears were as excellent as his eyes, so he heard it.
"What's a house-elf?" He inquired.
Yoochun was now tapping a stick of wood against his jiggling knee, he looked to be having an internal dilemma of sorts, and he didn't answer Siwon's question. Siwon sighed. Grown-ups often did that. He thought he did that a couple times himself, but then he reminded himself that he wasn't as old as he thought he was.
"Siwon..." Yoochun's voice trailed off. Siwon stopped watching a passing butterfly and focused his attention back to the strange man wearing a dress on his roof. "How would you like to go somewhere with me?"
Now, Siwon knew all about those important rules that say 'Never go anywhere with strangers'. He knew of course, but as it went, he had never been told that directly by anyone. So at this moment, with the nice apple-cheeked man smiling down at him, he figured it was a rule that did not apply to him.
"Sure!" Siwon replied cheerfully.
Yoochun grinned and jumped down from the roof, the black material he was wearing fluttering madly. Siwon felt that he should be taller than Yoochun, despite the fact that Yoochun was most obviously older.
"Siwon...why are you holding a pillow?"
Siwon gave him a look. "why are you wearing a dress?"
Yoochun blinked, and a red tinge came up in his cheeks. "Right, let's go then."
--- Off they go!!! ---
A/N: I really can't believe we wrote this. What do you even categorize this as? SM-Hogwarts? Oh well, hope you liked it! Please leave a comment to soothe our consciences! Whether you enjoyed the little glimpse into our minds, or felt mildly perturbed, silent readers force our handlers to break out the straight jackets as we go stir crazy. ♥
Pairing: haven't decided yet? Probably SiChul, JaeChun, and HoMin.
Rating: PG (this chapter)
Disclaimer: We own the plot, nothing more. There are not enough demetors in the world to keep them captive in my closet.
Oh goddess, what have we done. This is so warped. After months of not being able to write anything, THIS is what our poor creativity-deprived brains have randomly come up with as acceptable for you poor unfortunate souls to actually get to read.
♤ ♠ ♧ ♣ ♡ ♥ ♢ ♦ ♤ ♠ ♧ ♣ ♡ ♥ ♢ ♦
Once upon a messed up fanfic... there was an overly done plot-line involving young pre-Hogwarts Harry Potter who was locked unceremoniously inside his relatives cupboard.
Young Harry did not like it. He also couldn't quite understand why, although his relatives were all British, he was quite obviously Korean. Plus, he was pretty sure his name was Siwon.
But somehow, he supposed, that wasn't entirely important.
What was important was how exactly he was going to kill the black widow dangling in front of his nose.
His half-mangled pillow that he had used for the past 6 years, since infancy, wasn't the most terrifying weapon of death.
He would have to settle for squishing it with his hand, but he really hated that feeling. The point where your hand flies, makes contact, and you can actually feel the squish that splurts the spider's life out... Harry/Siwon really disliked causing such a messy death.
Now a shoe, that was the best way to go. Unfeeling, and very business-like. He rather felt it dignified. As dignified as a six-year-old can feel at any rate.
He looked at the spider and then raised his hand. The floorboards above his head rattled and dust began to fall into his eyes. The spider, not knowing his luck, skittered back to skulk in its web.
Ah, Harry thought, they're up.
He could already hear his uncle's heavy breathing from his laborious walk down into the kitchen and his aunt's attempts at cajoling the whale, er...his cousin awake.
It always went the same every morning; Harry mouthed the words with his aunt.
"Come along Dudders! Time to get upsy!"
*GRUNT*
"We Need to eat some breakfast to make you big and strong, okay precious?"
*GROAN*
"Oh, Duddy babyyy, you must be sooo tired! How can Mummy help?"
*THUNK NOISE*
"Mumsy will give you kisses..." and so on, and so forth, with much disgust. Harry didn't get kisses, so he could only assume how ridiculous the daily upstairs scene was.
Finally there was a sliding noise and the door to his prison under the stairs opened and he was able to climb out, still holding onto his inefficient weapon of fluffy death. Both his uncle and his cousin had a tendency to be short tempered, so one could only be too careful. Harry wondered if he was getting cynical in his young age.
If Harry/Siwon was telling the truth he could swear his actual age was 24... but at the moment he felt too small for it.
Anyway, his uncle was mumbling something at him and brandishing the frying pan, so it was reasonable to asume -- if he did not want to get hit with it -- that he should complete his morning chores of cooking slave, cleaning slave, and verbal abuse target.
Why his relatives, if they really were that, felt that insulting his parentage at every waking moment of the day in front of their very impressionable young nephew was in fact a wondrous parenting technique, was beyond him. So he just kept flipping the pancakes.
"Are you having a busy day at work today, Vernie-poo?"
Harry poured the batter. His uncle crinkled the newspaper in the same way he did his mustache.
"'Bout the same as usual, but I have to prepare for a new meeting on another deal we are hoping will go through."
Flip. Harry turned it over and stared at the golden perfection. He readjusted the pillow between his legs as he waited for the other side to cook
"Mummy, I want eggs! 'N I want toast too!"
"Calm down, Duddy, Mummy will feed you soon. Put on your bibby~", she crooned.
Harry rolled his eyes, and as he moved the finished pancake onto the plate, he looked to the side. His eyes cought onto something quite unusual.
Now, what was usual when looking outside the kitchen window from Harry's vantage would be a rather uneventful view of his old neighbor's wilting tulip collection.
Today, there was an older man, well not really old at all, just old to anyone who is under the age of 13. He was clothed in all black with long black hair. The hair, Harry thought, should have been greasy, and the nose should have been crooked, but in fact, it wasn't. He was young, had traces of dimples to his cheeks, and was observing the scene playing out in their kitchen in what appeared to be disturbed fascination. Siwon decided to smile.
The man blushed and ducked out of sight. Harry/Siwon wondered if he was imagining things.
He added bacon the the pan and looked back.
The top of the man's ponytail was visible amongst the pathetic blossoms. Siwon felt satisfied he couldn't make up a ponytail, and turned off the burner.
**Ponytails are, after all, a totally non-randomly-imaginable thing. Try it. Right now. I'm sure you can't.
"BOY -"
"Yes, yes, Uncle. You hate me, I'm unnatural, stupid, lazy, inconvenient, ridiculous, be-speckled, puny, and give you the willies on several occasions. Breakfast is ready; Can I go outside?"
The mountain of Vernon blinked, unable to really process all of that too quickly. There was a rough, squeaking, mumble-grumble noise that Harry took affirmatively.
"Thanks."
Dudley began to writhe in his chair. "Mummy he gets to go outside, I wanna go outside! Duddy wants to go too -- me tooo -- me tooo!"
Unusually non-accomodating, the woman named after a flower, who looks nothing like one, held him firmly in his chair. "it's eating time, Duddy. Let Mummy feed you."
Harry escaped outside. The last thing he needed to was a Ferengi feeding ritual to witness.
He ran around the side of the house, but couldn't see the man who was wearing the black dress.
"Are you Harry?"
Harry/Siwon looked up and saw the man sitting nonchalantly on the rooftop.
"Mostly, I guess. Who are you and how'd you get up there? Can I go up there too?"
"My name is Severus," the non-British person frowned slightly. "or Yoochun. You can call me Yoochun."
"You can call me Siwon, then," Harry said quickly, glad he didn't have to pretend to be so British anymore.
"Siwon? Okay, then," the man smiled and Siwon found himself smiling too. "How old are you, Siwon?"
"Six," he said, and adjusted the glasses on his nose. He wasn't sure why he wore them, he did have perfect vision, but every time he took them off, he always found they had a way of reappearing in the text.
"Six? And you can cook?" Yoochun's tone of voice betrayed a hint of disapproval.
Harry shrugged. "I can cook, clean, sew, knit, do yard work, plumbing, kill pests, and repair broken television sets. My cousin goes through a lot of television sets." Harry had counted them off his fingers. Yoochun's mouth went slack-jawed.
"They are treating you like a damned house-elf!" he hissed under his breath, but Siwon's ears were as excellent as his eyes, so he heard it.
"What's a house-elf?" He inquired.
Yoochun was now tapping a stick of wood against his jiggling knee, he looked to be having an internal dilemma of sorts, and he didn't answer Siwon's question. Siwon sighed. Grown-ups often did that. He thought he did that a couple times himself, but then he reminded himself that he wasn't as old as he thought he was.
"Siwon..." Yoochun's voice trailed off. Siwon stopped watching a passing butterfly and focused his attention back to the strange man wearing a dress on his roof. "How would you like to go somewhere with me?"
Now, Siwon knew all about those important rules that say 'Never go anywhere with strangers'. He knew of course, but as it went, he had never been told that directly by anyone. So at this moment, with the nice apple-cheeked man smiling down at him, he figured it was a rule that did not apply to him.
"Sure!" Siwon replied cheerfully.
Yoochun grinned and jumped down from the roof, the black material he was wearing fluttering madly. Siwon felt that he should be taller than Yoochun, despite the fact that Yoochun was most obviously older.
"Siwon...why are you holding a pillow?"
Siwon gave him a look. "why are you wearing a dress?"
Yoochun blinked, and a red tinge came up in his cheeks. "Right, let's go then."
--- Off they go!!! ---
A/N: I really can't believe we wrote this. What do you even categorize this as? SM-Hogwarts? Oh well, hope you liked it! Please leave a comment to soothe our consciences! Whether you enjoyed the little glimpse into our minds, or felt mildly perturbed, silent readers force our handlers to break out the straight jackets as we go stir crazy. ♥