(no subject)
Author: Smidget
Title: His Harry, His Wheezy - Part One
Summary: Story is set immediately after “Order of the Phoenix” ends, which is the start of summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Rating: R for sexual references and mild language.
Warnings: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley slash
Words: 1,501
Disclaimer: Joanne Kathleen Rowling owns all characters, names, places, rights, and other technical terms of which I am not aware. However, the plot is my invention with possible/probable references to actual events in the series.
- Part One -
As he rode away from King's Cross Station in the back of his Uncle Vernon's car, he stared out the window as fields, cars, and homes flew past him. While he wondered if his world would someday be what others might call normal, Harry Potter felt a tear slide down his cheek. His hand quickly wiped away his accidental and short-lived show of emotion. All he could do was hope that he would be allowed to stay in his room as much as possible. He didn't think that he could handle the Dursley's without becoming violent. He felt too guilty about what he'd done in the Department of Mysteries and knew he was severely depressed. If Mrs. Weasley had known, she'd have fussed over him for days and sent him straight to Saint Mungo's. Harry knew he would never be worth that much trouble.
After his trunk had been taken up to his room, he lay on his bed for hours until the Dursley's were getting ready for bed. They'd been informed of the recent events in the Wizarding world and understood that if Harry wanted to talk, he would initiate the conversation. Harry unlocked his door and slowly went downstairs. He found his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen finishing cleaning the dinner dishes. He stopped in the archway and stared at her, his eyes trying to burn a hole in the back of her head.
Petunia thought she had heard someone walk by and turned around to find her nephew looking as though he'd died. Not actually knowing what was the right thing to say or do, he nodded her head and whispered to him, "Harry, do you need to say something?" Harry nodded in slight agreement as he sat down at the brand new kitchen table. He figured his aunt would yell at him if he smudged the shiny finish so he shoved the chair back from the table. However, she started rummaging around in the fridge and pulled out piece of chocolate cake and a fork for him. Harry's mouth fell open in shock for she had never really cared for him before that moment. With a quick glance up at his aunt, he slowly picked up the fork and took a bite.
After a few minutes, Petunia started the conversation.
"Harry, look, I know what happened. The Order is in contact with me daily. Before you ask, no, Vernon has no idea. I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want, but I have to make sure you're all right. I don't know if what all is really bothering you, but I do know that you have a great deal on your mind." She paused for a moment, thinking that she could have said things much better if she'd thought about it beforehand.
As Harry sat in his chair, stunned that his aunt had just mentioned and actually acknowledged the magical world and The Order, he wondered just how much she knew. He also figured she had no idea what really happened or what was going on inside his head. Harry was torn between furiously storming off to his room while yelling obscenities down at her or just getting up and going to his room quietly. As he stayed in his seat a few extra seconds to decide, his emotions and teenage hormones took control of the situation. As he stormed off upstairs, he screamed back at her "LEAVE ME THE BLOODY HELL ALONE, YOU INSENSITIVE, PRYING, HATEFUL OLD HAG!"
While Harry blew off steam spitting profanities all the way back up to his room, he felt his heart fall below his stomach as he slammed the door. Not only had he not said anything he needed to tell her, but he had thoroughly insulted his mother's sister. Furthermore, he'd just called his only real contact with The Order and his past, a "hateful old hag," among others. He soon felt as though his head might explode from all the anger and guilt rapidly forming inside it. Sliding down the door, he rested his head on his knees while his hands wrenched up the loose denim on his legs as tight as they would go. If anyone had been outside the door listening to him, they would have head him whispering and sobbing so quietly it would have barely been audible.
"Help me... please somebody help me... Mom? Dad...? Sirius...? Oh please, I can't do this anymore and... look at everything I've caused to go wrong...Please... Ronald Weasley... you're all I have left."
The great Boy-Who-Lived spent the next three weeks in his room, sulking, brooding, and exceeding the limits of "severe depression" with each passing hour. He left his room only to relieve himself once a day and to bathe only if he felt like it. Petunia shoved food through the doggie door three times a day, though he usually never even so much as sniffed any of it. Harry had no idea his aunt had recently sent a message to The Order to inform them about his behavior.
A week before the end of July, Dumbledore finally decided something drastic must be done about Harry's rapidly diminishing mental and emotional state. He decided to send Remus Lupine, Mad-Eye Moody, and last but not least, Ron, to Harry's aid. They all had a slight idea of what to expect when they arrived in Privet Drive. Petunia had been notified the previous day so she could find a way for Vernon and Dudley to be away for the afternoon.
When they arrived in the Dursley's fireplace that afternoon, Petunia screamed and ran straight into the kitchen. She may have been more open to the Wizarding world now but arriving via fireplaces was something she was very unaccustomed to. Remus decided it was a grand time to introduce themselves, figuring they would be sharing much contact in the future.
"Good afternoon, Petunia. I'm Remus Lupin. This is Alastor Moody," Moody grunted as a greeting, "and this is one of Harry's best friends, Ron Weasley," he finished rather quickly.
She hesitated before shaking hands with anyone and before she finished telling them all who she was, she was walking as fast as she could toward the kitchen. They followed her; Ron barely able to restrain himself from rushing up the staircase to Harry's room. Harry was Ron's first real friend other than his brothers and sister. He had to make sure everything was okay. He was brought back to reality when Petunia started to speak again.
"So, I know you've been receiving my letters. We've tried to leave him alone when he wants to be so he doesn't go storming out of the house to God only knows where. He doesn't eat anymore and comes out of his room about every other day. I don't know what he does in there but we never hear any movement. Frankly, I'm too afraid to go knock on his door. I'm afraid that if I disturbed him at a particularly bad time, he might turn me into a rat."
Ron tried to suppress his laughter at her ludicrous statement. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her that she'd more likely be turned into a ferret, Ron heard four loud bangs coming from upstairs, followed by another even louder thud. Before the adults could fully absorb the possibilities of what had happened, Ron had bolted up the stairs and rammed himself full force into Harry's door.
As the door burst open, there in full view was the great Harry Potter, lying on the floor. "HARRY! EVERYBODY MOVE! GET UP HERE NOW!" Ron was screaming himself hoarse as he fell down beside Harry's limp body. His skin was as pale as Hedwig and his limbs so thin that Ron was almost afraid to touch him. As Ron rushed forward to his best friend, he saw blood oozing from Harry's head and a deep dent in the wall.
The adults came dashing up the stairs a full half minute behind Ron with Moody in the lead, brandishing his wand threateningly in front of him. The second Moody's eyes fell on the dented wall and then down to an unconscious Harry, he conjured a Portkey from Harry's now broken glasses that were lying on the floor. As he bent down and took Harry into his massive arms, he told Ron and Petunia to stay behind. Remus and Moody took the Portkey into their hands and before Ron could object, they were gone... straight off to Saint Mungo's.
For a moment Petunia and Ron stood in silence, still staring at the bloodstained floor where the Boy-Who-Lived had lain only seconds before. However, their moment of was interrupted by Vernon and Dudley returning from their afternoon excursion. Petunia quickly gathered her composure and briskly left the room to greet her husband and whale of a son. This left Ron in Harry's bedroom, alone, confused, and angry... but mostly afraid he'd lost his life. His Harry.
Title: His Harry, His Wheezy - Part One
Summary: Story is set immediately after “Order of the Phoenix” ends, which is the start of summer before Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Rating: R for sexual references and mild language.
Warnings: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley slash
Words: 1,501
Disclaimer: Joanne Kathleen Rowling owns all characters, names, places, rights, and other technical terms of which I am not aware. However, the plot is my invention with possible/probable references to actual events in the series.
- Part One -
As he rode away from King's Cross Station in the back of his Uncle Vernon's car, he stared out the window as fields, cars, and homes flew past him. While he wondered if his world would someday be what others might call normal, Harry Potter felt a tear slide down his cheek. His hand quickly wiped away his accidental and short-lived show of emotion. All he could do was hope that he would be allowed to stay in his room as much as possible. He didn't think that he could handle the Dursley's without becoming violent. He felt too guilty about what he'd done in the Department of Mysteries and knew he was severely depressed. If Mrs. Weasley had known, she'd have fussed over him for days and sent him straight to Saint Mungo's. Harry knew he would never be worth that much trouble.
After his trunk had been taken up to his room, he lay on his bed for hours until the Dursley's were getting ready for bed. They'd been informed of the recent events in the Wizarding world and understood that if Harry wanted to talk, he would initiate the conversation. Harry unlocked his door and slowly went downstairs. He found his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen finishing cleaning the dinner dishes. He stopped in the archway and stared at her, his eyes trying to burn a hole in the back of her head.
Petunia thought she had heard someone walk by and turned around to find her nephew looking as though he'd died. Not actually knowing what was the right thing to say or do, he nodded her head and whispered to him, "Harry, do you need to say something?" Harry nodded in slight agreement as he sat down at the brand new kitchen table. He figured his aunt would yell at him if he smudged the shiny finish so he shoved the chair back from the table. However, she started rummaging around in the fridge and pulled out piece of chocolate cake and a fork for him. Harry's mouth fell open in shock for she had never really cared for him before that moment. With a quick glance up at his aunt, he slowly picked up the fork and took a bite.
After a few minutes, Petunia started the conversation.
"Harry, look, I know what happened. The Order is in contact with me daily. Before you ask, no, Vernon has no idea. I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want, but I have to make sure you're all right. I don't know if what all is really bothering you, but I do know that you have a great deal on your mind." She paused for a moment, thinking that she could have said things much better if she'd thought about it beforehand.
As Harry sat in his chair, stunned that his aunt had just mentioned and actually acknowledged the magical world and The Order, he wondered just how much she knew. He also figured she had no idea what really happened or what was going on inside his head. Harry was torn between furiously storming off to his room while yelling obscenities down at her or just getting up and going to his room quietly. As he stayed in his seat a few extra seconds to decide, his emotions and teenage hormones took control of the situation. As he stormed off upstairs, he screamed back at her "LEAVE ME THE BLOODY HELL ALONE, YOU INSENSITIVE, PRYING, HATEFUL OLD HAG!"
While Harry blew off steam spitting profanities all the way back up to his room, he felt his heart fall below his stomach as he slammed the door. Not only had he not said anything he needed to tell her, but he had thoroughly insulted his mother's sister. Furthermore, he'd just called his only real contact with The Order and his past, a "hateful old hag," among others. He soon felt as though his head might explode from all the anger and guilt rapidly forming inside it. Sliding down the door, he rested his head on his knees while his hands wrenched up the loose denim on his legs as tight as they would go. If anyone had been outside the door listening to him, they would have head him whispering and sobbing so quietly it would have barely been audible.
"Help me... please somebody help me... Mom? Dad...? Sirius...? Oh please, I can't do this anymore and... look at everything I've caused to go wrong...Please... Ronald Weasley... you're all I have left."
The great Boy-Who-Lived spent the next three weeks in his room, sulking, brooding, and exceeding the limits of "severe depression" with each passing hour. He left his room only to relieve himself once a day and to bathe only if he felt like it. Petunia shoved food through the doggie door three times a day, though he usually never even so much as sniffed any of it. Harry had no idea his aunt had recently sent a message to The Order to inform them about his behavior.
A week before the end of July, Dumbledore finally decided something drastic must be done about Harry's rapidly diminishing mental and emotional state. He decided to send Remus Lupine, Mad-Eye Moody, and last but not least, Ron, to Harry's aid. They all had a slight idea of what to expect when they arrived in Privet Drive. Petunia had been notified the previous day so she could find a way for Vernon and Dudley to be away for the afternoon.
When they arrived in the Dursley's fireplace that afternoon, Petunia screamed and ran straight into the kitchen. She may have been more open to the Wizarding world now but arriving via fireplaces was something she was very unaccustomed to. Remus decided it was a grand time to introduce themselves, figuring they would be sharing much contact in the future.
"Good afternoon, Petunia. I'm Remus Lupin. This is Alastor Moody," Moody grunted as a greeting, "and this is one of Harry's best friends, Ron Weasley," he finished rather quickly.
She hesitated before shaking hands with anyone and before she finished telling them all who she was, she was walking as fast as she could toward the kitchen. They followed her; Ron barely able to restrain himself from rushing up the staircase to Harry's room. Harry was Ron's first real friend other than his brothers and sister. He had to make sure everything was okay. He was brought back to reality when Petunia started to speak again.
"So, I know you've been receiving my letters. We've tried to leave him alone when he wants to be so he doesn't go storming out of the house to God only knows where. He doesn't eat anymore and comes out of his room about every other day. I don't know what he does in there but we never hear any movement. Frankly, I'm too afraid to go knock on his door. I'm afraid that if I disturbed him at a particularly bad time, he might turn me into a rat."
Ron tried to suppress his laughter at her ludicrous statement. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her that she'd more likely be turned into a ferret, Ron heard four loud bangs coming from upstairs, followed by another even louder thud. Before the adults could fully absorb the possibilities of what had happened, Ron had bolted up the stairs and rammed himself full force into Harry's door.
As the door burst open, there in full view was the great Harry Potter, lying on the floor. "HARRY! EVERYBODY MOVE! GET UP HERE NOW!" Ron was screaming himself hoarse as he fell down beside Harry's limp body. His skin was as pale as Hedwig and his limbs so thin that Ron was almost afraid to touch him. As Ron rushed forward to his best friend, he saw blood oozing from Harry's head and a deep dent in the wall.
The adults came dashing up the stairs a full half minute behind Ron with Moody in the lead, brandishing his wand threateningly in front of him. The second Moody's eyes fell on the dented wall and then down to an unconscious Harry, he conjured a Portkey from Harry's now broken glasses that were lying on the floor. As he bent down and took Harry into his massive arms, he told Ron and Petunia to stay behind. Remus and Moody took the Portkey into their hands and before Ron could object, they were gone... straight off to Saint Mungo's.
For a moment Petunia and Ron stood in silence, still staring at the bloodstained floor where the Boy-Who-Lived had lain only seconds before. However, their moment of was interrupted by Vernon and Dudley returning from their afternoon excursion. Petunia quickly gathered her composure and briskly left the room to greet her husband and whale of a son. This left Ron in Harry's bedroom, alone, confused, and angry... but mostly afraid he'd lost his life. His Harry.