INVISIBLE (PG) BY IAMSHADOW
Title: Invisible
Author: iamshadow
Ship: None, unless you count a mention of the Dursleys
Word Count: 440
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pre-Hogwarts Era, so prepare to wibble.
Summary: Harry survives living with the Dursleys the only way he knows how.
A/N: Was going to be a drabble, but it got way too long. Ickle Harry, at about the age of six, or seven at the oldest. This could easily fit very early in my Teapot 'verse, but it's also incredibly Gen given Harry's age.
I thought of this a few days ago and wrote it today as a congratulations present for midnightblue88 for getting her Remus/Sirius story Irresistible nominated in the Featured Stories poll on The Quidditch Pitch! Go and read it!
Inspired by a scene in Barbara Hambly's fantasy novel Sisters of the Raven.
The Teapot 'verse Series
Main Series Chapter List HERE
Future Fics HERE
Teapot Cookie Fics HERE
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me.
Sometimes it works. Harry freezes and whispers under his breath and people’s eyes just sort of slide over him like he’s not there. Sometimes.
It didn’t work that day at school when Dudley blacked his eye and punched him in the stomach so hard he vomited down his front. It didn’t work when Harry dropped a dish setting the table and was banished to the cupboard under the stairs unfed.
But sometimes it does work, and sometimes is more than enough.
His cupboard door is unlocked, so he slips out into the passage like a shadow, his bare feet shuffling on the carpet soundlessly. The television is blaring from the lounge as he sneaks into the kitchen and tugs at the handle of the refrigerator door. It resists then swings wide, rattling the jars and milk bottles with audible clinks. Harry freezes.
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me. I’m not here.
After several heart-stopping seconds, Aunt Petunia’s half-turned head slowly faces the glowing screen again. It’s working. Harry knows he has to act fast.
There’s a partly eaten roast chicken on a plate on the top shelf, and Harry sets to work, ripping away a drumstick and a large piece of breast meat. They go into his right pocket. Two roasted potatoes and a chunk of stuffing go into his left. Finally, a can of pop and a handful of strawberries are tucked into the bottom of his t-shirt, which he’s folded up into a kind of pocket, held up with his left hand. With his free hand, he shuts the refrigerator gently and tiptoes back to the safety of his cupboard.
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me.
Once inside, he empties his pockets onto the nest of old blankets that is his bed and falls on the stolen food with ravenous abandon. He even eats the green tops on the berries, just so that he can taste the little bits of red flesh still clinging to them. The pop he leaves for later, once they’ve gone to bed. If he opens it now, the sharp hiss-crack might be heard.
He will have to hide the chicken bones and the pop can in his blankets until he gets the chance to sneak them into the rubbish bin. Unless Aunt Petunia thinks Uncle Vernon ate the food as a midnight snack, Harry knows there’s a very good chance he’ll get caught, as he has been before, and they’ll start locking his cupboard at night again. But right now, with a full tummy, licking the savoury grease from his fingers, Harry thinks that it’s worth it.
Author: iamshadow
Ship: None, unless you count a mention of the Dursleys
Word Count: 440
Rating: PG
Warnings: Pre-Hogwarts Era, so prepare to wibble.
Summary: Harry survives living with the Dursleys the only way he knows how.
A/N: Was going to be a drabble, but it got way too long. Ickle Harry, at about the age of six, or seven at the oldest. This could easily fit very early in my Teapot 'verse, but it's also incredibly Gen given Harry's age.
I thought of this a few days ago and wrote it today as a congratulations present for midnightblue88 for getting her Remus/Sirius story Irresistible nominated in the Featured Stories poll on The Quidditch Pitch! Go and read it!
Inspired by a scene in Barbara Hambly's fantasy novel Sisters of the Raven.
The Teapot 'verse Series
Main Series Chapter List HERE
Future Fics HERE
Teapot Cookie Fics HERE
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me.
Sometimes it works. Harry freezes and whispers under his breath and people’s eyes just sort of slide over him like he’s not there. Sometimes.
It didn’t work that day at school when Dudley blacked his eye and punched him in the stomach so hard he vomited down his front. It didn’t work when Harry dropped a dish setting the table and was banished to the cupboard under the stairs unfed.
But sometimes it does work, and sometimes is more than enough.
His cupboard door is unlocked, so he slips out into the passage like a shadow, his bare feet shuffling on the carpet soundlessly. The television is blaring from the lounge as he sneaks into the kitchen and tugs at the handle of the refrigerator door. It resists then swings wide, rattling the jars and milk bottles with audible clinks. Harry freezes.
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me. I’m not here.
After several heart-stopping seconds, Aunt Petunia’s half-turned head slowly faces the glowing screen again. It’s working. Harry knows he has to act fast.
There’s a partly eaten roast chicken on a plate on the top shelf, and Harry sets to work, ripping away a drumstick and a large piece of breast meat. They go into his right pocket. Two roasted potatoes and a chunk of stuffing go into his left. Finally, a can of pop and a handful of strawberries are tucked into the bottom of his t-shirt, which he’s folded up into a kind of pocket, held up with his left hand. With his free hand, he shuts the refrigerator gently and tiptoes back to the safety of his cupboard.
Can’t see me. Can’t hear me.
Once inside, he empties his pockets onto the nest of old blankets that is his bed and falls on the stolen food with ravenous abandon. He even eats the green tops on the berries, just so that he can taste the little bits of red flesh still clinging to them. The pop he leaves for later, once they’ve gone to bed. If he opens it now, the sharp hiss-crack might be heard.
He will have to hide the chicken bones and the pop can in his blankets until he gets the chance to sneak them into the rubbish bin. Unless Aunt Petunia thinks Uncle Vernon ate the food as a midnight snack, Harry knows there’s a very good chance he’ll get caught, as he has been before, and they’ll start locking his cupboard at night again. But right now, with a full tummy, licking the savoury grease from his fingers, Harry thinks that it’s worth it.