Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Onigiri in the Fruits Basket ❯ Japan Welcome's Harrison ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Marie Tomlinson 
It was a secret no one knew, not even the person involved. The only sole witnesses are either dead or have chosen to forget the event entirely. So how does Harry find out what this secret is? Harry Potter X Fruits Basket
Draco/Harry slash
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 06.16.2012 | Updated On: 06.17.2012 | Pages: 4 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 584 | Status: Work In Progress
It was a secret no one knew, not even the person involved. The only sole witnesses are either dead or have chosen to forget the event entirely. So how does Harry find out what this secret is? Harry Potter X Fruits Basket
Draco/Harry slash
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 06.16.2012 | Updated On: 06.17.2012 | Pages: 4 | Words: 10.5K | Visits: 584 | Status: Work In Progress
This is just to tide you over. I actually have chapters 1-4 uploaded and they’re really long, but I need reviews first!
Harrison James Potter, also known by many as Harry, looked up from the book he had been reading –From Blessing to Curse: Olden Age Afflictions– to see a long line forming outside of the door nearest to him. He softly closed said book and packed it away discreetly – he didn’t want any nosy busybodies sneaking a look at the title – before leaning down and picking up his messenger bag, his only item, period.
He didn’t know for sure how long he was going to be staying in Japan, but he still packed light, extremely light. It would be very simple for him to get any other necessities once he was there so he wasn’t needlessly worried about that.
With one look around the crowded seating area through his dirty, thin glasses, Harry stood up and joined the line boarding the aero plane to Japan. He was nervous, which was to be expected. It was, after all, his first time on an aero plane and he was worried something might go wrong.
Now, don’t get him wrong, Harry wasn’t afraid offlying, in fact he loved it. It was the idea of flying in an aero plane, a metal contraption that was not supposed to be in the air, which scared him. For all he knew, the thing could catch on fire and explode.
He’d seen something like that in a Muggle film once.
As the line slowly inched forward, Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his faded jeans and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his very much wrinkled ticket.
“Ticket please,” the flight attendant, a small woman with short bottle-blonde hair and too-white teeth, said. Harry handed over his ticket nervously, considering for one moment not handing it in at all. He wondered if the security guards would come to drag him away if he didn’t. The vision was oddly hilarious to him, but he stifled the laugh so as not to appear insane, although he was amid to admit that something might have come unhinged in the past year.
The attendant gave him a blinding, overly suggestive, smile, which he returned reluctantly before moving on. And as he walked down the tunnel that would lead him to the aero plane, Harry considered – not for the first time – bailing. But, like when he was in the taxi, or when he was going through security, or even when he spent the thirty minutes waiting for the flight, he talked himself out of it. There was no courage in that, and he was the epitome of courage, besides this was very important.
Once he was in his seat, he pulled out his very much worn book and dived into it, hoping the small printed words would take his mind off the death trap he was now riding in.
Twelve hours later, Harry left the noisy Tokyo airport and wandered out into the bustling popular city.
He stared in awe at the bright flashing lights and the fussy traffic. It was actually his first time in a big city, and he was absolutely ecstatic. All the whistles, and yells; the smells and shops; the buzz of constant activity. It was a wonder that no one seemed to get lost. They all seemed to know where they were going or what they were doing; and it all pulled Harry into an excited lull. Everything felt new, just waiting for him to discover them. And for the first time in years he felt completely and utterly free.
The darkness pressed down on me and the occasional red or green flash of light lit up the cloudy sky like fireworks. But I knew they were not fireworks, no . . . they were something much more sinister.
I passed by a broken window and the sound of loud piercing screams stabbed at my ears. Try as I might to block them out, they wouldn’t leave me, lingering in the air long after the actual sound had disappeared behind me.
I ran down the stone steps, nearly tripping over them in my rush, and as I got lower the screams started up once more.
“I’ve found him! There’s Potter,” someone shouted from below me and then a stream of bright red whizzed past my ear. I ducked out of the way, dropping to the ground before rolling.
And then I was falling down the stairs.
I landed with a thud – and a suspicious splash – at the bottom of the steps and groaned. Slowly I opened my eyes and nearly screamed at what I saw.
A young girl laid near me, her head twisted up to look unseeingly at the ceiling. Her stomach was ravaged, as if some animal had been trying to tear into her, and blood pooled around her.
When I stood up I realized that I had fallen into it, and it was that that had caused the splash.
Blood coated my clothes and when I raised my hand to my face and pulled back, I could see the crimson liquid smeared onto my hand.
Her blood, on my hands – I had caused this.
And then, I actually did scream.
Harry took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he pushed aside the gate and walked slowly up to the large house that seemed to loom over him.
It was a perfect square with a pristine looking garden and a straight stone walkway. A perfect house; and Harry despised every bit of it – nothing could possibly be that perfect. The supposed home gave off a cold aura, not at all what one would expect from a comfortable, lived-in building.
Walking up Harry took another deep breath at the door and then rang the bell. And then he stopped breathing at all as he waited for the door to open, and when it did, he thought he might just faint from lack of oxygen.
“Hello? How can I help you?”
The thin pale woman standing at the door questioned through the small crack in the door that she had made. Harry sent the suspicious woman a nervous smile hoping that would ease her nerves.
“Um . . . yes, actually, uh . . . are you Naruse Sayuki-san,” he asked, stumbling over the foreign words as they pressed past his lips. He had made good with a bit of translation magic, but hearing the words he had not learned come out of his mouth was an odd experience.
“Hai.” Sayuki shifted her weight and opened the door a little bit more before leaning against the frame, her pale face pressed against the dark wood as her dark green eyes narrowed.
“Oh . . . um . . . well . . . I’m sorry to bother you, honestly Miss, but um . . .” Harry let his eyes travel around for a bit before he asked, “Can I come in?”
She hesitated and glanced behind her with a nervous expression before turning back to look at Harry.
“That wouldn’t be . . . a good idea,” she said hesitantly and Harry nodded slowly in understanding. He did show up unexpectedly and Sayuki couldn’t possibly know who he was. “Can’t you just? . . .” She waved her hand impatiently to urge him to tell her his business and then leave.
Harry swallowed thickly and his fingers began to twist nervously into the fabric of his black long sleeve.
“That’s okay. Iamsorry for dropping by unexpectedly,” he focused his luminous eyes on her and hoped he could convey his sincerity that way, “but . . . well I came across some information a while ago . . . and . . .”
“And,” Sayuki prompted, growing just the slightest bit annoyed with the young man before her. She’d never had much patience for kids before, not even her own children; and this boy was talking in circles. Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, not sure how to pose his question without coming off as needy or pushy or even intrusive.
“Well . . . um . . . did you . . . did you ever give up a daughter for adoption.” He said the last part in a rush, hoping to deal with this like the band-aid effect. The question, however, had Sayuki’s back up and Harry could tell that he had treaded into dangerous waters. It was too late to back out and so he just swallowed nervously and waited for the rebuff as Sayuki glared at him openly for the first time.
“Who told you about that,” she hissed venomously and then, without waiting for an answer, she threw the door open and grabbed Harry’s arm, her grip so tight it almost cut off all the blood circulation in his wrist as she pulled him into a dimly lit hallway. It was bare and looked too polished and clean, like the owner had nothing to dobutclean it. There was no distinction, no pictures or artwork that hinted at any originality. For all Harry knew, he could have just walked into a model home or a place where the people hardly visited.
“Sayuki,” a male voice called out from one of the rooms lining the hallway. The door to the left of Harry slid open and a man with red-ish brown hair walked out. He took one look at Harry through his thin glasses before pinning his wife with a questioning stare.
“Who is this,” he asked smoothly, his voice like a rough whisper that could rise unexpectedly into a mind numbing yell. Harry shiver slightly as the sound echoed in his mind.
“Oh . . . right . . . I’m Harrison Potter, but you can call me Harry.”
Harry held out his hand in a polite greeting, even as his senses warned him to leave, but he then dropped it when the man made no moved to shake it.
Sayuki moved away from Harry to stand by her husband and he leaned down as she whispered in his ear, lowly, probably hoping that Harry wouldn’t hear, “He knows, Hiroshi. I don’t know why but he asked abouther.”
Hiroshi looked down at her for a split second, scowling, before looking over at Harry with eyes as hard as diamond.
“What doyouwant?” His tone had Harry’s back up and he did everything in his power to control his urge to react negatively. He did not know what these two were trying to hide, but he needed information and they were his only lead.
“Well . . . my mother . . . she was Lily . . . your oldest daughter. I was just —”
“We don’t care and we don’t want you here. We got rid of her when we could and that was the end of it so why don’t you justleave,” Sayuki spat out and for a moment Harry was reminded forcibly of the people he had grew up with.
Harry’s mouth fell into a frown and he stared at the two before him with new eyes.
This was not what he had expected when he found out that he had grandparents, and although he had no idea what they were like, or what they’ve been through, he knew they would not care as to what had happened to him or the daughter they had no doubt been happy to give away. With a sigh, Harry stomped down the urge to turn around and leave. Instead he asked another question, hoping that this one might be of some solace to him.
“Well . . . can I just ask: Is there anyone else —?”
“Look that trouble maker Kyoko left a long time ago with some child and that Honda man. Go find them and leave us be.”
Harry’s frown deepened and he nodded slowly before giving into his urges and turning around and leaving the house. He felt empty and weighed down as if some heavy rock now sat on his chest. Here he had expected to find some actual family, only to find out that they didn’t want him. He didn’t know why he was disappointed though. He was used to people not wanting him. No one ever seemed to want him. In the end, they just wanted to use him.
Harrison heaved a huge sigh before walking away from that dark house and not looking back. He instead focused on finding Kyoko Honda, who he was guessing was his mother’s sister. If nothing else, she could at least listen to him for a minute. Just listening to him was all he wanted at the moment. Already he had given up hope on ever finding another family.
“Kill the spare . . .” A high, deadly cold voice whispered, the sound of it echoing through the silent cemetery.
I turned slowly to look at the teen beside me, and then fear spread across my face when the words registered.
In that single moment, brown eyes connected with my wide green ones and then a flash of green light erupted, like a bright firework. I watched as all the light left those brown eyes and the teen crumbled to the floor.
Dead.
It took Harry a week to track down any trace of Kyoko Honda and by then he had strengthen his resolve.
It turns out that in her earlier days Kyoko had been a delinquent, and with parents like those that Harry had met, he couldn’t blame her. His reformed aunt had gotten married shortly after dropping out of middle school, when she was 15, to the teacher’s aide, a man named Katsuya Honda. Shortly after marriage the two had a child and three years later Katsuya died of pneumonia. Harry didn’t know what had happened to Kyoko after that, but he wasn’t expecting anything from her. He wasn’t going to hope.
With a sigh, Harry shook those thoughts away and looked up at the house before him. He frowned at it.
It didn’t loom like the house of his grandparents, it was wider and had a more cheery feeling to it, and yet Harry was still the slightest bit tense. He didn’t know what to expect. He was about to meet his deceased uncle’s father and he was more nervous then when he had been meeting his mother’s parents. He wasn’t sure if the man would accept him or push him away like his grandparents did, and that unknown frankly frightened him.
“Come on Potter,” he whispered to himself, frowning as he walked up to the front door. He reached out a shaky hand to ring the doorbell. Long after it sounded it continued to echo inside his head. He shifted nervously as the door opened and a small bald man stood in the doorway. He peered up at Harry with squinted eyes before a slow smile spread across his lips. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the smile. It was an act of kindness and showed that if this man was willing to be kind to a stranger, than he would be a tad bit warmer to a family member.
“Hello there, how may I help you?”
“Um . . . I’m Harrison Potter . . . my . . . my mother was sisters with Kyoko Honda,” Harry stammered, twisting his hands nervously.
“Oh . . . I wasn’t aware that Kyoko-san had a sister,” the old man muttered lowly.
“She didn’t know. My mother was adopted before . . . Kyoko-san was born. No one knew,” he informed the man before adding, “Sir,” and his voice slipped into English in his nervousness. Harry shifted and the old man finally took notice Harry’s awkwardness.
“Oh . . . how rude. Why don’t you come inside for a cup of tea?”
“Oh no, I don’t want to be a burden,” Harry declined politely. “I was just wondering if you knew where I can find Kyoko.” The old man looked down for a moment before looking up again and giving a sad smile.
“You really should come inside,” He suggested and then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked into the house. Harry watched the man go, teetering in the doorway before he followed. He found the man in the kitchen, pouring two cups of tea. He motioned for Harry to sit before taking a seat for himself.
“Thank you,” Harry thanked politely before taking a sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat and spread through his body. Harry sighed and his body relaxed on reflex.
“Potter-san —” The old man began only for Harry to raise his hand, cutting him off.
“Please, call me Harry.”
“Then you can call me Oto-san, everyone does.” Harry blushed and nodded his head, taking another sip of the very delicious tea.
“Well, Harry-kun . . . I didn’t think Kyoko-san had a nephew so I never knew. . . .” Oto-san heaved a deep sigh and a sad look took over his eyes and Harry knew. He didn’t have to say anything; Harry knew exactly what had happened to Kyoko Honda.
“Oh . . . I see,” Harry whispered and his heart sank. He felt so stupid. Without realizing it, he had begun to hope. He had begun to wish that he would find a loving family in this aunt that he did not know, and that wasn’t a good thing. Harry sighed and then asked, “How . . . when did it happen?”
Oto-san smiled a little sad smile and sighed again.
“A year ago,” he answered. “It was a car accident. No one saw it coming. I fear Tohru-kun still hasn’t completely gotten over it.”
“Tohru,” Harry asked, finding the name unfamiliar. Oto-san nodded and his smile lightened a bit.
“Oh yes, Tohru-kun would be your cousin. If you want, I could give you her address and you can go and visit her.” Harry nodded and his heart fluttered a little at the thought of finally meeting a family member even if it was just a cousin.
“That would be nice, but may I ask: Why doesn’t she live here, if you’re the only family left,” he questioned, his curiosity spilling over. He couldn’t help but find it weird that an orphan would not take refuge with the only family willing to take them, and Oto-san really did seem like he wanted Tohru. And Harry understood the feeling. It was the same feeling he often felt for his godson Teddy. In a way, having Teddy would be like having a reminder of the ones he had lost.
“Oh, I’m sorry to say that she wasn’t very happy here,” Oto-san spoke, breaking into Harry’s thoughts. “My side of the family wasn’t as fond of Kyoko-san as I was. In fact, they believed Kyoko-san was the one that killed Katsuya, and I do believe that they like to take it out on Tohru-kun. As much as I would love for her to be here, I couldn’t let her stay here with them. They are rather cruel people. But she lives with some nice men, and I know they will take good care of her.” Oto-san finished by looking at him with an odd twinkle in his eye that reminded Harry painfully of a passed mentor.
“I see,” Harry repeated and lifted his cup to take another sip of his tea.
I watched as if in slow motion, already knowing as the man laughed what was about to happen.
The man spread his arms too wide, his stunning spell just missing his target by a hair. A red stream of light whizzed under his outstretched arms and hit him square in the chest. And then a look of utter puzzlement passed over his gaunt face. The smile slowly disappeared as he tilted back, falling off of the dais and heading straight for the swirling green veil.
I wasn’t aware I was running or screaming as I watched the body slowly disappear behind the veil. I wasn’t aware of it until I felt iron like arms wrap around my waist, restraining me.
I struggled fruitlessly against the hold, reaching my arms out toward the veil, as if I could somehow touch the man who had disappeared behind it. My mind could not comprehend.
Why wasn’t anyone trying to help? Why wasn’t he walking out from behind the veil? Was he hiding? I wanted desperately to yell, to tell him that it wasn’t funny. This wasn’t a game! But I couldn’t breathe. My throat was clogged and my eyes stung uncomfortable. It took me a minute to realize I was crying.
“SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry —” the man restraining me whispered too calmly in my ear. I didn’t like this calm; it conflicted too greatly with the chaos around me.
“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through,” I snapped. I refused to listen to what he was saying.
“—it’s too late, Harry.”
“We can still reach him —” But I knew even then that Lupin was right. I figured it out before he even said the words.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing . . . he’s gone.”
And he was right. No one came from around the veil. All around me the battle continued. No one seemed to notice that Sirius was missing, and it was in that moment that the realization hit me. And with a force I didn’t know I had, I pushed away from Lupin and rounded on Sirius’s last opponent, revenge on my mind.
“I heard he’s British. I bet he has a wonderful accent.”
“Well, I doubt he could measure up to Prince Yuki-sama, and don’t Brits have, like, yellow teeth or something?”
“Oh,god, you’re right! What was I thinking?”
“Ugh,” Uotani, Arisa moaned, rolling her brown eyes at the two girls gossiping across the room. Their loud whispers penetrate the silence that normal filled the classroom this early on in the day. “Do theyevershut up?” She looked questioningly at her two best friends, Honda, Tohru and Hanajima, Saki.
“Um . . . ah . . .” Tohru stammered, not having the heart to talk about anyone, no matter how annoying they might be. Arisa smiled at that. She had expected much of her very best friend. Tohru was just like that, too kind for her own good.
“But I do admit, that I am slightly curious,” Saki spoke up softly from behind Tohru, where she was braiding the brunette’s hair. “It’s odd to have a transfer so late in the year.” Arisa hummed her agreement before a grin spread across her face.
“Well, let’s just hope he’s not a complete stick in the mud, we could use some more entertainment around here. Kyon just isn’t cutting it anymore.” Arisa chuckled lightly at the thought of a certain orange haired teen, and then her thought turned down a less innocent path as she though over what she could do next to get a rise out of said teen.
“Oh, I wonder if he’s nice,” Tohru piped up, cutting off Arisa’s dark thought, her face bright with excitement. “I wonder what kind of person he is!”
Saki and Arisa shared an amused look at that. Their first and mostly only friend was extra special in that way. No matter the person, she was always willing to meet and befriend them, and she never judged even after she met them. With a fond smile the two girls watched as their very best friend continued to ramble on in her oh-so-adorable way.
For the third time in the few days that he had been in Japan, Harry found himself once more standing nervously outside of a door.
He had not done as Oto-san had suggested and visited Tohru.
Nope.
He just couldn’t deal with so much stress in such a short period of time, and he was patient enough to wait a few days at the very least. Instead he had enrolled himself into the local high school. It had been years since he had last stepped foot into a normal school and he had to admit that the idea frightened him just a little bit.
The unreasonable fears that he had been struggling to push back rose once more.
What if no one liked him? What if he was treated like a freak? What if they all ignored him or hated him for being foreign? So many of these questions plagued his thoughts, and he found it hard to ignore them. It wasn’t right, why should he care so much of what others thought of him. He thought he’d been over that by now, but it appeared not. These fears gripped him in a tight strangle hold.
And that is what led the dark haired teen to stand outside of his new class nervously.
So far, what he had seen of the school had him somewhat downhearted. But then again, not all schools could be as mystical and wonderful as his old one. Harry sighed and shook his head, freeing himself of those thoughts. He focused now on the present, but that did nothing to help. His hands clenched into a tight ball, and the scar on his right hand was momentarily visible against his pale skin, the words:I must not tell lies,forever etched into its surface.
“Suck it up Potter, where’s that Gryffindor courage now,” he whispered to himself, and then he took a deep calming breath. Steadying himself he pulled open the door and was met with twenty pairs of eyes.
A hushed silence fell over the room and Harry walked purposefully toward the teacher and handed her the note he had been given at the Front Office. The homeroom teacher, who he was sure was called Mayu-sensei – it was weird not calling a teacher Professor – looked down at the notice with a skeptical expression before looking back up at him.
“Alright then, Potter-san,” she said before turning to the class. “Everyone, this is Potter Harrison-san. He’ll be joining us for the remainder of the year.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably under all the scrutinizing stares and thanked every deity known to man when Mayu-sensei told him to go sit in the back.
“Sohma Yuki-kun, raise your hand.”
A grey haired teen raised his hand in the air and Harry went over to sit in the empty seat behind him. Whispers followed him around the room, and he gratefully sank down into his chair and for the first time in the history of his schooling days, gave the teacher his undivided attention.
The new boy was shy, that much Tohru could tell in the time that she spent sitting near him. Throughout the day, not once did he speak, instead he slouched in his seat and stared straight ahead, as if he were wishing the room would disappear. Tohru felt sympathetic toward him. It must have been very hard to move to an entirely different country and in the middle of the year. But besides the feeling of sympathy, Tohru was also amazed.
Potter Harrison-san was very beautiful, and in a totally different way than Yuki-kun was beautiful. If possible Potter-san was more feminine then the Prince. Maybe it was because he was shorter than most boys, almost as short as Tohru. Or maybe it was because he had longer hair. Or maybe it was because his eyes were wider than a boy’s. But then, it could have been all three. Whatever it was, Tohru knew that it wouldn’t be long before another club started for Potter-san. And quite frankly, she couldn’t blame the other girls.
Potter-san was almosttoobeautiful.
With his thick long lashes that framed his almond-shaped emerald eyes, and threw shadows over his cheeks. His long hair that was a stylish disarray, curling around his face and dropping down his back. His thin, wiry frame with the hint of muscle that Tohru thought only Sohmas possessed and that pale, flawless, translucent skin. The teen was the epitome of beauty and it all proved to stun the female, and the odd male, population.
But Tohru could also see past that.
In the one moment when Potter-san had glanced in her direction, most likely to look out the window, Tohru had seen a sea of emotion in the pools of emerald. Pain, sorrow, depression, fear, and some other emotions that she couldn’t distinguished had flashed through his eyes in that one instant, and then he had turned away and the sun shining through the window had hit his glasses, throwing back a glare.
All those emotions had Tohru’s heart clenching in sadness. She couldn’t understand. How could a normal teen feel all that and yet appear perfectly normal. And it was in that moment that Tohru had made a new resolution to add to her other one. She was determined to help this lonely teen in any way possible.
“Hey,” Arisa suddenly called to her, leaning back in her seat as she continued to stare at their math teacher. “Are we inviting the new kid for lunch,” she asked, whispering out of the side of her mouth. Tohru saw Saki’s eyes shift over to them for a moment, showing that she was also listening.
“Well,” Tohru whispered slowly, not wanting to disrupt class but also wanting to answer the question. “I think we should. He looks a little lonely.” Arisa’s brown eyes shifted away from the teacher to glance over at the boy sitting a little bit behind her.
“Hmm,” Saki hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, he does emit some lonely waves,” she muttered. “They’re twisted, and dark, and oppressed, and . . . odd.” A crease had appeared between her brows, hinting at her slight confusion. Tohru wanted to question if something was wrong, and then Saki spoke again, like she had heard Tohru’s thoughts.
“His waves are strange, not normal at all, but even odder than that of the Sohmas. And, he seems . . . like he has a lot of hidden power. So . . . strange . . .” Tohru’s eyes widened a little and she opened her mouth, wanting to know exactly what her wave sensing friend meant, but at that moment the teacher had called the end to the class and the scrapping of chairs signaled the beginning of the lunch period. And Tohru was easily diverted, her thoughts shifting back toward the boy still staring at his desk.
“Let’s do it now,” Tohru instructed her friends standing up as they came to stand beside her. She noted vaguely that Kyo and Yuki had disappeared from the room, something that seemed almost normal from them now, and she wondered if they would be joining her for lunch also. If not, she hoped they got a chance to eat some of the food she made them, they didn’t seem to do that much.
“Oi, Potter.” Arisa’s voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to look at the boy at the exact same time as he turned to look up at them. Bright emerald eyes that were hidden behind thin glasses focused to stare at the three of them, and Tohru noted that shock, sadness, and a hint of longing lingered inside of them. Arisa, who didn’t seem to sense the boy’s isolation, smirked and tilted her head to the side as she waited for a response.
“Um . . . hullo,” he muttered lowly, almost a whisper, and Tohru’s heart jumped a little at the sound of his voice, for it was the first time he had spoken. The sound was low and the accent was thick and captivating. And then he smiled hesitantly and Tohru was dazzled, much like whenever Yuki or Kyo smiled. Shaking her head, Tohru moved around Arisa.
“Hi,” she greeted happily, bowing deeply at him. When she stood back up she could tell that she had startled the boy a little. He was obviously not used to Japanese customs. Tohru pushed that aside for another time and moved to introduce herself and her friends. “I’m Honda Tohru and these are my best friends Uotani Arisa and Hanajima Saki.”
Harrison blinked, his eyes revolving over each of their faces before his hesitant smile turned into a full blown grin. Tohru drew in a breath, stunned, but she noticed that even though he seemed genuinely please there was still an underlining sadness in his eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in that beautiful voice. “I’d introduce myself but I think you already know my name.” And then he chuckled lowly, a pleasing rich sound that had the girls remaining in the room sighing dreamily.
“Potter-san,” Saki spoke up in her monotone voice. “Our Tohru would like to know if you would join us for lunch today.” Tohru blushed at the ‘our Tohru’ part, but she nodded when Harrison looked inquiringly at her.
“It would be my pleasure,” he accepted politely and Tohru blushed even more.
“O-okay.” He chuckled at Tohru’s stammered agreement before standing and the four left the room. They stopped in their normal spot, under a large Sakura tree on the edge of the school grounds. After settling down with their food, Harrison eating what he told them was called a sandwich, Tohru spoke, attempting small talk.
“So, Potter-san,” she began to ask, but Harrison cut her off when he raised his hand. He gave her an apologetic smile before stating his reason for interrupting.
“It’s okay to just call me Harry.” He told them and when Tohru opened her mouth to protest he cut her off again. “Please, I insist,” and then, as if he knew her and how she would likely react, he added, “Japanese customs make me nervous.” Tohru blushed and nodded her head in understanding.
“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, bowing her head. “I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Oh, how stupid of me. I —”
“Tohru, Tohru,” Harry called with a chuckle. “It’s okay. It’s nothing to fret about.”
“Oh, o-okay, um . . . well . . .”
“Hum,” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side curiously, and looked adorable while doing it. His dark bangs slid to the side, revealing something etched into his forehead.
“Oh, I . . . I don’t mean to pry,” Tohru stammered, twirling her finger nervously in her lap. She didn’t want to come off as intrusive but she was really curious. “But . . . um . . . what brings you to Japan?” Harry straightened and then shrugged nonchalantly but Tohru didn’t miss the tightening of his eyes.
“Oh, I just happened to trace my mother’s family back here.” Tohru muttered a soft ‘Oh,’ and she noted the way he said mother, with the loving care of a person who had lost someone dear to them.
“What happened to her,” Arisa asked rather bluntly, and Tohru shot her a tense look, begging her to back off. She had a bad feeling she knew what had happened to Harry’s mother.
“She died,” Harry deadpanned, yet despite his uncaring attitude, his eyes seemed to darken going from a bright emerald to a forest green. His sorrow was almost a tangible taste in the air, thick and suffocating almost. It seemed to pick him up and wrap around him and yet he didn’t seem to fully notice its presence.
“Oh no,” Tohru gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “That’s horrible. Your father must feel —”
“He’s dead, too,” Harry cut in matter-of-factly, and Tohru’s heart sank.
Tears sprang from her eyes when she realized that they were in the same boat. It was no doubt that Harry felt the same dark depression she hid deep inside her heart, but Tohru could see that he was suffering instead of coping. Acknowledging it but not conquering it, he was letting it simmer inside of himself, and Tohru could see that. But as Harry looked over at her he seemed to climb over that feeling, squish it down, and his expression flashed from shock and then to something much softer, something Tohru wouldn’t expect to see come from a complete stranger. And he aimed this foreign expression at her, why, she did not know.
“Don’t cry,” he crooned in a soft voice, like seeing her cry hurt him both physically and mentally. “It happened a long time ago,” he explained, and he raised his hand, like he was reaching out to her but thought better of it and let it drop at his side. “I was too young to remember. And . . . and the guy who did it paid dearly for his crimes.” The last part was said darkly, almost like an afterthought, and Arisa raised her blonde eyebrows at him, like what he said hinted at something deeper. Tohru didn’t catch it, too caught up in the fact that this boy was parentless at an age in which he could scarcely remember them. However, before the subject could be stretched and expressed upon, the Sohma teens walked over to them.
“Hey guys,” the ever bubbly Momiji chirped, plopping down beside Tohru. His cheerful disposition broke the thick tension that had previously tainted the air, and the four slipped back into something more normal, more familiar for a bunch of teens. The blonde boy looked around the group and gave them all a sugary smile before his eyes locked onto Harry. He tilted his head to the side and considered the dark-haired teen.
“Oh, Potter-san, you’re here as well,” Yuki asked giving the boy a polite smile that didn’t really reach his lavender eyes. Harry blinked before nodding his head in a mutual greeting.
“Yes, I am,” he murmured, and the Sohmas blinked, taken aback by his heavy accent or in Yuki and Kyo’s case, the fact that he was talking. “And you can just call me Harry.”
“Wow,” Momiji gasped when he had reeled in his shock. He leaned forward toward Harry, breaching the teen’s personal bubble and Harry leaned back, looking a bit uneasy. “You have a reallythick accent! Where are you from?” Momiji’s warm brown eyes roamed over Harry’s face and then his keen eyes caught sight of something hidden beneath Harry's thick bangs. “Oo, what’s that,” He asked, pointing rudely at Harry’s forehead and the scar that had always set him apart from others, that had made him a marked man. “Is that a scar? It looks like a lightning bolt! That’s so cool! How’d you get it?”
“Hum . . .” Harry hummed lowly, his eyes darting around as if he were looking for some kind of escape, for, even though he was sitting outside by a tree, he had suddenly felt very much like an animal caught in a trap. Momiji was still staring, and Harry began to fiddle with the cuff of his school uniform.
“Momiji,” Hatsuharu spoke up in a monotonous tone, his voice deep and drawling without meaning to be. “You’re making him nervous.” Harry shot Haru a thankful look that quickly disappeared when he realized that Momiji wasn’t so easily swayed. The boy, for he was quite small to be anything but that, leaned back and pinned Harry with an inquisitive gaze. Harry stared back, looking thoughtful as if he were pondering on whether he should answer the young Sohma’s question. Tohru noticed that he looked down at his right hand for a moment before he answered, although he didn’t look back up.
“Yes,” he muttered lowly. “It is a scar.” And then he added, as an afterthought, “I got it when I was one, the same day my parents were killed.”
A thick silence fell over the group and once again Tohru’s heart went out to the boy. It was sad to see that this teen had been orphaned at such a young age, barely a year to spend with those who had given him life. Barely a year to feel the love that only a parent, a mother and a father could give.
Finally Harry looked up and Tohru was pulled into the intense stare he pointed at her.
“Maybe I could tell you someday,” he asked, looking hopeful, his question only meant for her. His green eyes pulsed and glowed, causing a dark red blush to coated Tohru’s cheeks and she nodded slowly, offering him a soft and sincere smile. She would do anything to help the anguished teen if she could, even if it was just listening to his story.
“I’d been happy to hear it,” Tohru spoke softly, ducking her head as she said the words. Beside her, Kyo glared heatedly at Harry. He didn’t like the way the new teen was looking at Tohru. Something in the boy’s eyes had his back up. Harry gaze suddenly shifted toward him, as if he had heard his thoughts, but Kyo knew that couldn’t be true. And then Harry smirked and winked at him, as if to prove him wrong, that hecouldread his thoughts, and Kyo blanched.
The ringing of the school bell had everyone jumping up in shock, and they all rushed so as not to be late for class.
“Tohru, wait,” Harry suddenly called, grabbing at Tohru’s arm and wrapping his finger’s around her thin wrist. She stopped, turning to look at him with curious eyes. Yuki, Kyo, Arisa, and Saki hung back to wait for her, Momiji and Haru already heading off for their class.
“What is it Harry-san?”
“Later . . . can I tell you something?”
Tohru tilted her head a little, her confusion evident, but she agreed none the least. She wasn’t sure what Harry wanted to tell her, but she was willing to listen.
She was always willing to listen.
Harry shifted nervously as he waited for Tohru outside of the school gate. He wasn’t sure how the girl would take the news he was about to give her. Would she push him away? Tohru didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe she had been crying purely out of pity. That though had Harry frowning; he hated it when people showed him pity. But then again, she was in the same situation as he was. They were both orphans, both without the love of their parents.
“Harry-san,” Tohru’s soft voice brought Harry out of his depressing thoughts. He looked up to see the girl standing before him and a few feet away, her friends hovered, looking at him suspiciously. Harry chuckled mentally at that. It was obvious that they were all overprotective of Tohru and Harry could kind of understand why, Tohru seemed like she was one of those people who needed protection.
“Hey, Tohru,” Harry greeted back, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against. He lifted his arm and scratched the back of his head as he looked around, hoping the words might just come to him. “Um . . . I . . . I don’t really know how to say this,” he muttered. Harry took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Okay, well . . . I’m your cousin.”
When Harry looked up after a moment to judge Tohru’s reaction he was surprised to see that she was just smiling at him.
“Oh, I didn’t know my father had foreign relatives,” she commented softly.
“No, not from your father’s side,” Harry told her, shaking his head, and his bangs flopped into his eyes before he moved them. “My mum was your mother’s older sister.” Now the right reaction crossed Tohru’s face: shock.
“I-I didn’t know Mom had —”
“No one knew,” Harry whispered, cutting her off. “My mum was adopted before your mother was born, when she was six. The only ones that knew were our grandparents and the people who adopted my mum.”
Tohru nodded her head slowly at Harry’s explanation, although she still looked a little bit confused. Harry waited patiently, allowing her to soak the information in. After a moment Tohru’s face wiped clean except for the blinding smile she sent Harry.
“Ok,” she said, and then she looked behind her, as if sensing the impatient stares of her friends. “Oh, I have to go,” she whispered frantically.
“Oh, well . . . I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry muttered, a little downhearted. He had been hoping to spend some time with Tohru; he craved her presence if only for a little while. Tohru seemed to notice Harry’s change in mood and she smiled again.
“Would you like to come over and join us for dinner?”
“Oh . . . well, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Harry protested although his heart did lift at the thought of spending more time with his new found cousin. He wanted to curse his heart, because once again, without his consent he had begun to hope. It was only good luck that Tohru hadn’t disappointed him.
“No, no,” Tohru said, shaking her head. “It’s not trouble at all. And I’m sure Shigure-san wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled. “I kind of have to get back to the motel and —” Any further explanation he had been about to give her was cut off by Tohru frantic worrying.
“Oh no,” she said on a gasp. “You’re staying at a motel! No, no, you can’t do that.” She shook her head furiously then her face lit up as she let out an ‘Oh,’ on a gasp. Harry could practically see the imaginary light bulb shining over her head. “I’ll see if Shigure-san will allow you to house with us!”
“Oh no, Tohru,” Harry started to protest, trying to stop the girl as she turned away with a happy skip in her step. He sighed and shook his head, amusement bubbling up inside of him.
What had made him think that this girl would ever reject him? She was much too good, too pure, something Harry certainly wasn’t. Harry imagined that she was made of sugar and smiles, something every child craved in a companion, and in some ways Harry was a child.
“Harry-kun!”
Harry looked up, noting the sudden change from polite to informal in the way Tohru now addressed him. That simple gesture had him smiling and he walked over to join Tohru as she explained to her friends that Harry would be coming over for dinner.
“Oh!” the blonde Harry remembered was called Momiji, shouted, jumping up like a hyper rabbit. “Can we come over too? It’s been so long since I saw Gure and had some of your cooking, Tohru. Can we, please?”
“Oh, that would be great, maybe we could do barbeque,” Tohru said happily, and then she spun around, almost smacking Harry in the face with one of her braids. “Would you like barbeque Harry-kun?” Harry shrugged his shouldered and pushed his hair back behind his ear in one of his nervous gesture.
“Um . . . sure, that sounds fine.” The smile he aimed at her dropped a little when he noticed that she, actually all of them, were staring at him with shocked expressions. “W-what?”
“Is that an earring,” Momiji questioned loudly, pointing at Harry’s ear. Harry blinked before he remembered the act of rebellion he had participated in the summer he turned 17. He had simply walked out into the streets of London and into a piercing and tattoo parlor before walking back out sporting a new look, a pierced ear and a tattoo of a snake coiling around his bare forearm. Unconsciously, Harry lifted his hand to finger the dangling dragon on his ear.
“Um . . . yeah,” he answered hesitantly, and his voice seemed to shock everyone out of the stupor they had fallen into. Tohru blinked a few time before the smile that was quickly becoming familiar spread once again onto her thin lips.
“Oh . . . well come on, I have a lot to make tonight,” she announced. She then wrapped both of her arms around Harry’s right arm, only because he looked at a lost as of what to do with himself, and started to pull him away. “Bye, Uo-chan! Bye, Hana-chan,” she called to her two best friends as she, Harry, and the Sohmas walked away from the school.
Tohru lived with Yuki, Kyo, and their older cousin, Shigure. Harry wanted to question on the relationship. Why were none of them living with their parents? But as they approached the house a new question popped into Harry’s head.
Why did they live in the middle of the forest?
They were so far into the forest, Harry wondered if anyone knew they were there. Only someone with something to hide lived in secluded areas. And Harry should know. He knew a lot of people who had something to hide, himself included.
But then again, Harry could be wrong. He remembered that Tohru had mention that this Shigure was a writer. He could simply be living in seclusion because he liked the quiet, or because it helped him write. Writers always had a weird way of thinking, and they could be extremely picky, especially when it came to their environment.
“Harry-kun, we’re here,” Tohru called, breaking through Harry’s thoughts. He blinked and looked over at the plain Japanese style house. It had two stories and a kind of porch that wrapped around the first level. From what he could see, the floors were wood and the doors were paper.
Completely and utterly normal, and unspectacular.
Not at all what Harry had been expecting for a house hidden in the woods.
“Idiot, Potter,” Harry muttered lowly to himself. “You’ve spent too much time around Purebloods.” Harry shook his head and then looked up, only to meet the red eyes of Kyo. He was staring at him with something akin to jealousy and some suspicion. Harry tilted his head to the side; silently asking ‘What?’ and Kyo shook his head and turned away. With a shrug Harry followed the group into the house.
“We’re home,” Yuki announced loudly. There was a loud bang followed by a low pitched ‘Ow,’ and then the door further down the hall slid aside and a dark-haired man poked his head out. He smiled at the group and when his eyes landed on Harry the smiled turned more curious.
“Hello,” he greeted, stepping out into the hallway and approaching them. Harry noted that he was wearing some sort of bathrobe thing. Was that something Japanese people wore in the house? “Who’s this?”
“Harrison Potter . . . I mean Potter, Harrison, sir,” Harry informed him and he watched with a slightly amused expression as the man’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs, most likely because of his accent.
“Huh . . . well . . . I’m Sohma Shigure.”
“I know. It’s nice to meet you sir, and I’d like to add that you have a very nice home.” Shigure blinked and the others seemed startled by Harry’s formal speech, all except for Tohru who looked slightly amused, which was an oddity in itself.
“Well, thank you,” Shigure said after a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“No problem.”
The group was silent for a moment before Tohru spoke up.
“Oh, I should start fixing dinner,” she announced.
“Oh, let me help you with that,” Harry volunteered as the girl moved to go up the stairs located to the right of them. Tohru shook her head, her brown hair flying wildly.
“No, no,” she declined. “You’re the guest. I can’t have the guest cooking for himself.”
“Are you sure,” Harry asked, still pushing. He wanted to do anything to help the girl who had so easily accepted him. Tohru threw him a blinding smile.
“Positive,” she said and then disappeared up the stairs before Harry could protest again. The teen sighed and shook his head.
“Well,” Yuki suddenly said, and when Harry turned he saw that all of the males, except maybe Haru and Shigure, were staring at him with an expression Harry dubbed as the ‘Big Brother Look.’ It almost made him want to laugh. Already he could guess at what the Sohmas might want to talk to him about.
“We should move into the living room,” Shigure suggested, looking like it was Easter, Christmas, and his birthday all at once.
Harry shrugged and followed the guys into the living room. He took the only single chair in the room that was ironically facing all of the other furniture. It was like some kind of interrogation.
“Alright, let’s get straight to the point,” Kyo hissed, and Harry notice that that was the first time Kyo had opened his mouth in his presence all day. His voice was deep and rough, quite unlike Haru’s slow monotone, or Momiji’s bubbly cheer, or even Yuki’s melodic voice. Kyo leaned forward from where he had chosen to sit next to Haru, his expression venomous and his red eyes promising death. Harry stared back calmly, not in the least bit intimidated.
“What do you want from Tohru,” Kyo demanded. Harry arched a brow, taking note of the informal way Kyo said Tohru’s name. It told him all he needed to know. The others in the room looked at Tohru as maybe a sister, or a ward, or in Momiji’s case, a one-sided crush. Kyo however, Harry could tell was in love with her. And he was in deep, very deep. Once again Harry had to control the urge to laugh. How wrong all of them were!
“What I want from Tohru isn’t really any of your business,” Harry replied calmly, going along with their assumptions.
“Like hell it isn’t,” Kyo growled.
“I really don’t think it is,” Harry stated coolly, again hiding his laughter. Shigure’s head was moving between them as if he were watching some intense tennis game and the others were staring at Harry with unveiled anger.
They though he wanted to use Tohru. What a laugh!
“Potter-san,” Yuki spoke up in a warning tone, holding his arm out over Kyo’s chest as if to hold him back. Harry regarded this curiously. Would Kyo actually attack him? A small smile crept up Harry’s face at the though. While he didn’t welcome bodily harm, it was good to know that someone was looking out for Tohru.
“Could you please cooperate with us?” Yuki asked politely, but Harry could see the steel in his eyes. Hard lavender stared over at him. And it was then that Harry noticed the slight tingling feeling in the back of his head. His eyes widened marginally before he schooled his features. He lifted his finger and tapped his chin thoughtfully, giving the allusion that he was thinking about Yuki’s request. But really he was thinking about his instincts.
They were telling him that something magical was there, in fact, something magical was all around. He hadn’t noticed before, as he had been outside, but the magical pull was coming from the Sohmas. Briefly he wondered if they were wizards, and then pushed that notion away. They were too Muggle to be wizards, and even if, they would have had to have broken the Statue of Secrecy if Tohru was living with them. There was no way that they could have hidden that with her sharing the same house as them. No way.
“Potter-san.”
Harry blinked confused before he remembered that they had been waiting for an answer. Kyo was coiled like an angry cat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to pounce of Harry.
“Okay,” Harry drawled, leaning back in the chair, the picture of ease. “I’ll cooperate.”
“Well,” Momiji demanded when Harry didn’t continue. Harry smirked and his eyes trailed over ever face. They all looked tense and uncomfortable, and Harry wondered if he was the reason behind the unease.
“What I want from Tohru is quite simple. I just want her to want me.” Harry knew that the way he phrased his answer would get a rise out of them. He was silently happy that Kyo didn’t disappoint. The teen leaned forward even more, practically out of his seat now, and he glared at Harry hatefully.
“Why you —” Harry held up his hand, hiding his amusement as he rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t done,” he said, letting a single chuckle slip through. “I don’t want Tohru toloveme. That though in itself is kind of disturbing and I don’t particularly believe in interbreeding. I frankly can’t understand why some people do it. And another thing, Tohru isn’t my type. None of them are my type. They’re much too clingy and they talk too much and —” Harry knew he was rambling and so he cut off there, but he could tell that they were all confused. This was only further proven by Kyo’s unintelligible, “Huh?”
Harry rolled his eyes again.
“Let’s dumb this down okay.” He held up his hand, his index and middle finger extended to show the number two.
“There are two reasons why I don’t want Tohru to love,loveme.”
“And they are,” Yuki prompted when Harry had paused for dramatic effect. Harry grinned then, a show of his teeth.
“One: I’m gay,” and here he got some weird looks, but he simply shrugged them off, “And two: Tohru is mycousin.”
This was met by a deafening silence and Harry reclined once again in his chair, enjoying their disbelief. He could practically hear the click as the pieces fell into place.
“I . . . I thought that side of the family didn’t like Honda-san,” Yuki murmured lowly. A dark look flashed across Harry’s face and he was sure the Sohma’s noticed.
“No,” he told them. “They don’t.”
He paused then, his anger at the family’s treatment of one of their own evident on his face. His pupils seemed almost cat-like for a moment, sort of like Kyo’s own eyes whenever he got too angry, and it was a moment before he could speak again.
“In fact, neither side likes Tohru much, although I can’t see why. Tohru’s like a saint. She’s one of the purest people I’ve ever met.” The Sohma’s nodded in agreement, but Harry could see that his word had only proven to further confuse them. They did not know about Tohru’s mother’s side, because Kyoko had been disinherited the day she came back from the hospital. The same day in which Katsuya proposed to her, at least, that was what Oji-san had told Harry.
“Well . . . then which side? . . .” Shigure asked, not really needing to continue the question.
“My mum was her mother’s older sister.”
There was a beat of silence as they all stared at Harry in confusion, not sure if he was telling the truth.
“But her mother didn’t —” Momiji started to say but Harry had cut him off with a shake of his head.
“My mum was adopted, but not even she knew the truth,” he informed them. “I’m sure that if she had known, I would’ve met Tohru a lot sooner.” A wistful expression crossed his face as he thought about what that would have been like. And then he realized that Tohru would have been brought into danger had she had known him then and that idea frightened him. “But maybe it was a good thing that no one did know,” Harry muttered lowly to himself, a private aside.
Unbeknownst to him, the Sohma’s all heard him but they didn’t know what to make of his words.
“So, you just came here to meet Tohru,” Kyo asked skeptically. Harry shook his head, his hair flying around with the movement and his glasses becoming unhinged. He fixed his hair and readjusted his glasses before he answered more thoroughly.
“Not at all,” he spoke. “I didn’t even know about Tohru until last week. I came here looking for my grandparents.” Harry’s expression darkened once again as he thought of those people who were nothing like what he had expected parents to be. “Not the most courteous lot I have ever met. I can see why Aunty Kyoko went rebel.”
Harry sighed then and shook his head to clear it. For one fleeting second he had been almost glad not to have parents, and that frightened him. “I’m going to go and check on Tohru, see if she needs any help,” he suddenly announced and then he left the room, leaving the Sohmas in a state of confusion.
Harrison Potter was certainly an odd one, and enigma, an oddity among the oddities.
Chapter 1: Japan Welcomes Harrison
“All passengers boarding flight A16 please move to the platform now, the flight to Japan is now boarding. All passengers boarding flight A16 please move to the platform now, the flight to Japan is now boarding.”Harrison James Potter, also known by many as Harry, looked up from the book he had been reading –From Blessing to Curse: Olden Age Afflictions– to see a long line forming outside of the door nearest to him. He softly closed said book and packed it away discreetly – he didn’t want any nosy busybodies sneaking a look at the title – before leaning down and picking up his messenger bag, his only item, period.
He didn’t know for sure how long he was going to be staying in Japan, but he still packed light, extremely light. It would be very simple for him to get any other necessities once he was there so he wasn’t needlessly worried about that.
With one look around the crowded seating area through his dirty, thin glasses, Harry stood up and joined the line boarding the aero plane to Japan. He was nervous, which was to be expected. It was, after all, his first time on an aero plane and he was worried something might go wrong.
Now, don’t get him wrong, Harry wasn’t afraid offlying, in fact he loved it. It was the idea of flying in an aero plane, a metal contraption that was not supposed to be in the air, which scared him. For all he knew, the thing could catch on fire and explode.
He’d seen something like that in a Muggle film once.
As the line slowly inched forward, Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his faded jeans and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his very much wrinkled ticket.
“Ticket please,” the flight attendant, a small woman with short bottle-blonde hair and too-white teeth, said. Harry handed over his ticket nervously, considering for one moment not handing it in at all. He wondered if the security guards would come to drag him away if he didn’t. The vision was oddly hilarious to him, but he stifled the laugh so as not to appear insane, although he was amid to admit that something might have come unhinged in the past year.
The attendant gave him a blinding, overly suggestive, smile, which he returned reluctantly before moving on. And as he walked down the tunnel that would lead him to the aero plane, Harry considered – not for the first time – bailing. But, like when he was in the taxi, or when he was going through security, or even when he spent the thirty minutes waiting for the flight, he talked himself out of it. There was no courage in that, and he was the epitome of courage, besides this was very important.
Once he was in his seat, he pulled out his very much worn book and dived into it, hoping the small printed words would take his mind off the death trap he was now riding in.
Twelve hours later, Harry left the noisy Tokyo airport and wandered out into the bustling popular city.
He stared in awe at the bright flashing lights and the fussy traffic. It was actually his first time in a big city, and he was absolutely ecstatic. All the whistles, and yells; the smells and shops; the buzz of constant activity. It was a wonder that no one seemed to get lost. They all seemed to know where they were going or what they were doing; and it all pulled Harry into an excited lull. Everything felt new, just waiting for him to discover them. And for the first time in years he felt completely and utterly free.
The darkness pressed down on me and the occasional red or green flash of light lit up the cloudy sky like fireworks. But I knew they were not fireworks, no . . . they were something much more sinister.
I passed by a broken window and the sound of loud piercing screams stabbed at my ears. Try as I might to block them out, they wouldn’t leave me, lingering in the air long after the actual sound had disappeared behind me.
I ran down the stone steps, nearly tripping over them in my rush, and as I got lower the screams started up once more.
“I’ve found him! There’s Potter,” someone shouted from below me and then a stream of bright red whizzed past my ear. I ducked out of the way, dropping to the ground before rolling.
And then I was falling down the stairs.
I landed with a thud – and a suspicious splash – at the bottom of the steps and groaned. Slowly I opened my eyes and nearly screamed at what I saw.
A young girl laid near me, her head twisted up to look unseeingly at the ceiling. Her stomach was ravaged, as if some animal had been trying to tear into her, and blood pooled around her.
When I stood up I realized that I had fallen into it, and it was that that had caused the splash.
Blood coated my clothes and when I raised my hand to my face and pulled back, I could see the crimson liquid smeared onto my hand.
Her blood, on my hands – I had caused this.
And then, I actually did scream.
Harry took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he pushed aside the gate and walked slowly up to the large house that seemed to loom over him.
It was a perfect square with a pristine looking garden and a straight stone walkway. A perfect house; and Harry despised every bit of it – nothing could possibly be that perfect. The supposed home gave off a cold aura, not at all what one would expect from a comfortable, lived-in building.
Walking up Harry took another deep breath at the door and then rang the bell. And then he stopped breathing at all as he waited for the door to open, and when it did, he thought he might just faint from lack of oxygen.
“Hello? How can I help you?”
The thin pale woman standing at the door questioned through the small crack in the door that she had made. Harry sent the suspicious woman a nervous smile hoping that would ease her nerves.
“Um . . . yes, actually, uh . . . are you Naruse Sayuki-san,” he asked, stumbling over the foreign words as they pressed past his lips. He had made good with a bit of translation magic, but hearing the words he had not learned come out of his mouth was an odd experience.
“Hai.” Sayuki shifted her weight and opened the door a little bit more before leaning against the frame, her pale face pressed against the dark wood as her dark green eyes narrowed.
“Oh . . . um . . . well . . . I’m sorry to bother you, honestly Miss, but um . . .” Harry let his eyes travel around for a bit before he asked, “Can I come in?”
She hesitated and glanced behind her with a nervous expression before turning back to look at Harry.
“That wouldn’t be . . . a good idea,” she said hesitantly and Harry nodded slowly in understanding. He did show up unexpectedly and Sayuki couldn’t possibly know who he was. “Can’t you just? . . .” She waved her hand impatiently to urge him to tell her his business and then leave.
Harry swallowed thickly and his fingers began to twist nervously into the fabric of his black long sleeve.
“That’s okay. Iamsorry for dropping by unexpectedly,” he focused his luminous eyes on her and hoped he could convey his sincerity that way, “but . . . well I came across some information a while ago . . . and . . .”
“And,” Sayuki prompted, growing just the slightest bit annoyed with the young man before her. She’d never had much patience for kids before, not even her own children; and this boy was talking in circles. Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, not sure how to pose his question without coming off as needy or pushy or even intrusive.
“Well . . . um . . . did you . . . did you ever give up a daughter for adoption.” He said the last part in a rush, hoping to deal with this like the band-aid effect. The question, however, had Sayuki’s back up and Harry could tell that he had treaded into dangerous waters. It was too late to back out and so he just swallowed nervously and waited for the rebuff as Sayuki glared at him openly for the first time.
“Who told you about that,” she hissed venomously and then, without waiting for an answer, she threw the door open and grabbed Harry’s arm, her grip so tight it almost cut off all the blood circulation in his wrist as she pulled him into a dimly lit hallway. It was bare and looked too polished and clean, like the owner had nothing to dobutclean it. There was no distinction, no pictures or artwork that hinted at any originality. For all Harry knew, he could have just walked into a model home or a place where the people hardly visited.
“Sayuki,” a male voice called out from one of the rooms lining the hallway. The door to the left of Harry slid open and a man with red-ish brown hair walked out. He took one look at Harry through his thin glasses before pinning his wife with a questioning stare.
“Who is this,” he asked smoothly, his voice like a rough whisper that could rise unexpectedly into a mind numbing yell. Harry shiver slightly as the sound echoed in his mind.
“Oh . . . right . . . I’m Harrison Potter, but you can call me Harry.”
Harry held out his hand in a polite greeting, even as his senses warned him to leave, but he then dropped it when the man made no moved to shake it.
Sayuki moved away from Harry to stand by her husband and he leaned down as she whispered in his ear, lowly, probably hoping that Harry wouldn’t hear, “He knows, Hiroshi. I don’t know why but he asked abouther.”
Hiroshi looked down at her for a split second, scowling, before looking over at Harry with eyes as hard as diamond.
“What doyouwant?” His tone had Harry’s back up and he did everything in his power to control his urge to react negatively. He did not know what these two were trying to hide, but he needed information and they were his only lead.
“Well . . . my mother . . . she was Lily . . . your oldest daughter. I was just —”
“We don’t care and we don’t want you here. We got rid of her when we could and that was the end of it so why don’t you justleave,” Sayuki spat out and for a moment Harry was reminded forcibly of the people he had grew up with.
Harry’s mouth fell into a frown and he stared at the two before him with new eyes.
This was not what he had expected when he found out that he had grandparents, and although he had no idea what they were like, or what they’ve been through, he knew they would not care as to what had happened to him or the daughter they had no doubt been happy to give away. With a sigh, Harry stomped down the urge to turn around and leave. Instead he asked another question, hoping that this one might be of some solace to him.
“Well . . . can I just ask: Is there anyone else —?”
“Look that trouble maker Kyoko left a long time ago with some child and that Honda man. Go find them and leave us be.”
Harry’s frown deepened and he nodded slowly before giving into his urges and turning around and leaving the house. He felt empty and weighed down as if some heavy rock now sat on his chest. Here he had expected to find some actual family, only to find out that they didn’t want him. He didn’t know why he was disappointed though. He was used to people not wanting him. No one ever seemed to want him. In the end, they just wanted to use him.
Harrison heaved a huge sigh before walking away from that dark house and not looking back. He instead focused on finding Kyoko Honda, who he was guessing was his mother’s sister. If nothing else, she could at least listen to him for a minute. Just listening to him was all he wanted at the moment. Already he had given up hope on ever finding another family.
“Kill the spare . . .” A high, deadly cold voice whispered, the sound of it echoing through the silent cemetery.
I turned slowly to look at the teen beside me, and then fear spread across my face when the words registered.
In that single moment, brown eyes connected with my wide green ones and then a flash of green light erupted, like a bright firework. I watched as all the light left those brown eyes and the teen crumbled to the floor.
Dead.
It took Harry a week to track down any trace of Kyoko Honda and by then he had strengthen his resolve.
It turns out that in her earlier days Kyoko had been a delinquent, and with parents like those that Harry had met, he couldn’t blame her. His reformed aunt had gotten married shortly after dropping out of middle school, when she was 15, to the teacher’s aide, a man named Katsuya Honda. Shortly after marriage the two had a child and three years later Katsuya died of pneumonia. Harry didn’t know what had happened to Kyoko after that, but he wasn’t expecting anything from her. He wasn’t going to hope.
With a sigh, Harry shook those thoughts away and looked up at the house before him. He frowned at it.
It didn’t loom like the house of his grandparents, it was wider and had a more cheery feeling to it, and yet Harry was still the slightest bit tense. He didn’t know what to expect. He was about to meet his deceased uncle’s father and he was more nervous then when he had been meeting his mother’s parents. He wasn’t sure if the man would accept him or push him away like his grandparents did, and that unknown frankly frightened him.
“Come on Potter,” he whispered to himself, frowning as he walked up to the front door. He reached out a shaky hand to ring the doorbell. Long after it sounded it continued to echo inside his head. He shifted nervously as the door opened and a small bald man stood in the doorway. He peered up at Harry with squinted eyes before a slow smile spread across his lips. Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the smile. It was an act of kindness and showed that if this man was willing to be kind to a stranger, than he would be a tad bit warmer to a family member.
“Hello there, how may I help you?”
“Um . . . I’m Harrison Potter . . . my . . . my mother was sisters with Kyoko Honda,” Harry stammered, twisting his hands nervously.
“Oh . . . I wasn’t aware that Kyoko-san had a sister,” the old man muttered lowly.
“She didn’t know. My mother was adopted before . . . Kyoko-san was born. No one knew,” he informed the man before adding, “Sir,” and his voice slipped into English in his nervousness. Harry shifted and the old man finally took notice Harry’s awkwardness.
“Oh . . . how rude. Why don’t you come inside for a cup of tea?”
“Oh no, I don’t want to be a burden,” Harry declined politely. “I was just wondering if you knew where I can find Kyoko.” The old man looked down for a moment before looking up again and giving a sad smile.
“You really should come inside,” He suggested and then, without waiting for a response, he turned and walked into the house. Harry watched the man go, teetering in the doorway before he followed. He found the man in the kitchen, pouring two cups of tea. He motioned for Harry to sit before taking a seat for himself.
“Thank you,” Harry thanked politely before taking a sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat and spread through his body. Harry sighed and his body relaxed on reflex.
“Potter-san —” The old man began only for Harry to raise his hand, cutting him off.
“Please, call me Harry.”
“Then you can call me Oto-san, everyone does.” Harry blushed and nodded his head, taking another sip of the very delicious tea.
“Well, Harry-kun . . . I didn’t think Kyoko-san had a nephew so I never knew. . . .” Oto-san heaved a deep sigh and a sad look took over his eyes and Harry knew. He didn’t have to say anything; Harry knew exactly what had happened to Kyoko Honda.
“Oh . . . I see,” Harry whispered and his heart sank. He felt so stupid. Without realizing it, he had begun to hope. He had begun to wish that he would find a loving family in this aunt that he did not know, and that wasn’t a good thing. Harry sighed and then asked, “How . . . when did it happen?”
Oto-san smiled a little sad smile and sighed again.
“A year ago,” he answered. “It was a car accident. No one saw it coming. I fear Tohru-kun still hasn’t completely gotten over it.”
“Tohru,” Harry asked, finding the name unfamiliar. Oto-san nodded and his smile lightened a bit.
“Oh yes, Tohru-kun would be your cousin. If you want, I could give you her address and you can go and visit her.” Harry nodded and his heart fluttered a little at the thought of finally meeting a family member even if it was just a cousin.
“That would be nice, but may I ask: Why doesn’t she live here, if you’re the only family left,” he questioned, his curiosity spilling over. He couldn’t help but find it weird that an orphan would not take refuge with the only family willing to take them, and Oto-san really did seem like he wanted Tohru. And Harry understood the feeling. It was the same feeling he often felt for his godson Teddy. In a way, having Teddy would be like having a reminder of the ones he had lost.
“Oh, I’m sorry to say that she wasn’t very happy here,” Oto-san spoke, breaking into Harry’s thoughts. “My side of the family wasn’t as fond of Kyoko-san as I was. In fact, they believed Kyoko-san was the one that killed Katsuya, and I do believe that they like to take it out on Tohru-kun. As much as I would love for her to be here, I couldn’t let her stay here with them. They are rather cruel people. But she lives with some nice men, and I know they will take good care of her.” Oto-san finished by looking at him with an odd twinkle in his eye that reminded Harry painfully of a passed mentor.
“I see,” Harry repeated and lifted his cup to take another sip of his tea.
I watched as if in slow motion, already knowing as the man laughed what was about to happen.
The man spread his arms too wide, his stunning spell just missing his target by a hair. A red stream of light whizzed under his outstretched arms and hit him square in the chest. And then a look of utter puzzlement passed over his gaunt face. The smile slowly disappeared as he tilted back, falling off of the dais and heading straight for the swirling green veil.
I wasn’t aware I was running or screaming as I watched the body slowly disappear behind the veil. I wasn’t aware of it until I felt iron like arms wrap around my waist, restraining me.
I struggled fruitlessly against the hold, reaching my arms out toward the veil, as if I could somehow touch the man who had disappeared behind it. My mind could not comprehend.
Why wasn’t anyone trying to help? Why wasn’t he walking out from behind the veil? Was he hiding? I wanted desperately to yell, to tell him that it wasn’t funny. This wasn’t a game! But I couldn’t breathe. My throat was clogged and my eyes stung uncomfortable. It took me a minute to realize I was crying.
“SIRIUS! SIRIUS!”
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry —” the man restraining me whispered too calmly in my ear. I didn’t like this calm; it conflicted too greatly with the chaos around me.
“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through,” I snapped. I refused to listen to what he was saying.
“—it’s too late, Harry.”
“We can still reach him —” But I knew even then that Lupin was right. I figured it out before he even said the words.
“There’s nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing . . . he’s gone.”
And he was right. No one came from around the veil. All around me the battle continued. No one seemed to notice that Sirius was missing, and it was in that moment that the realization hit me. And with a force I didn’t know I had, I pushed away from Lupin and rounded on Sirius’s last opponent, revenge on my mind.
“I heard he’s British. I bet he has a wonderful accent.”
“Well, I doubt he could measure up to Prince Yuki-sama, and don’t Brits have, like, yellow teeth or something?”
“Oh,god, you’re right! What was I thinking?”
“Ugh,” Uotani, Arisa moaned, rolling her brown eyes at the two girls gossiping across the room. Their loud whispers penetrate the silence that normal filled the classroom this early on in the day. “Do theyevershut up?” She looked questioningly at her two best friends, Honda, Tohru and Hanajima, Saki.
“Um . . . ah . . .” Tohru stammered, not having the heart to talk about anyone, no matter how annoying they might be. Arisa smiled at that. She had expected much of her very best friend. Tohru was just like that, too kind for her own good.
“But I do admit, that I am slightly curious,” Saki spoke up softly from behind Tohru, where she was braiding the brunette’s hair. “It’s odd to have a transfer so late in the year.” Arisa hummed her agreement before a grin spread across her face.
“Well, let’s just hope he’s not a complete stick in the mud, we could use some more entertainment around here. Kyon just isn’t cutting it anymore.” Arisa chuckled lightly at the thought of a certain orange haired teen, and then her thought turned down a less innocent path as she though over what she could do next to get a rise out of said teen.
“Oh, I wonder if he’s nice,” Tohru piped up, cutting off Arisa’s dark thought, her face bright with excitement. “I wonder what kind of person he is!”
Saki and Arisa shared an amused look at that. Their first and mostly only friend was extra special in that way. No matter the person, she was always willing to meet and befriend them, and she never judged even after she met them. With a fond smile the two girls watched as their very best friend continued to ramble on in her oh-so-adorable way.
For the third time in the few days that he had been in Japan, Harry found himself once more standing nervously outside of a door.
He had not done as Oto-san had suggested and visited Tohru.
Nope.
He just couldn’t deal with so much stress in such a short period of time, and he was patient enough to wait a few days at the very least. Instead he had enrolled himself into the local high school. It had been years since he had last stepped foot into a normal school and he had to admit that the idea frightened him just a little bit.
The unreasonable fears that he had been struggling to push back rose once more.
What if no one liked him? What if he was treated like a freak? What if they all ignored him or hated him for being foreign? So many of these questions plagued his thoughts, and he found it hard to ignore them. It wasn’t right, why should he care so much of what others thought of him. He thought he’d been over that by now, but it appeared not. These fears gripped him in a tight strangle hold.
And that is what led the dark haired teen to stand outside of his new class nervously.
So far, what he had seen of the school had him somewhat downhearted. But then again, not all schools could be as mystical and wonderful as his old one. Harry sighed and shook his head, freeing himself of those thoughts. He focused now on the present, but that did nothing to help. His hands clenched into a tight ball, and the scar on his right hand was momentarily visible against his pale skin, the words:I must not tell lies,forever etched into its surface.
“Suck it up Potter, where’s that Gryffindor courage now,” he whispered to himself, and then he took a deep calming breath. Steadying himself he pulled open the door and was met with twenty pairs of eyes.
A hushed silence fell over the room and Harry walked purposefully toward the teacher and handed her the note he had been given at the Front Office. The homeroom teacher, who he was sure was called Mayu-sensei – it was weird not calling a teacher Professor – looked down at the notice with a skeptical expression before looking back up at him.
“Alright then, Potter-san,” she said before turning to the class. “Everyone, this is Potter Harrison-san. He’ll be joining us for the remainder of the year.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably under all the scrutinizing stares and thanked every deity known to man when Mayu-sensei told him to go sit in the back.
“Sohma Yuki-kun, raise your hand.”
A grey haired teen raised his hand in the air and Harry went over to sit in the empty seat behind him. Whispers followed him around the room, and he gratefully sank down into his chair and for the first time in the history of his schooling days, gave the teacher his undivided attention.
The new boy was shy, that much Tohru could tell in the time that she spent sitting near him. Throughout the day, not once did he speak, instead he slouched in his seat and stared straight ahead, as if he were wishing the room would disappear. Tohru felt sympathetic toward him. It must have been very hard to move to an entirely different country and in the middle of the year. But besides the feeling of sympathy, Tohru was also amazed.
Potter Harrison-san was very beautiful, and in a totally different way than Yuki-kun was beautiful. If possible Potter-san was more feminine then the Prince. Maybe it was because he was shorter than most boys, almost as short as Tohru. Or maybe it was because he had longer hair. Or maybe it was because his eyes were wider than a boy’s. But then, it could have been all three. Whatever it was, Tohru knew that it wouldn’t be long before another club started for Potter-san. And quite frankly, she couldn’t blame the other girls.
Potter-san was almosttoobeautiful.
With his thick long lashes that framed his almond-shaped emerald eyes, and threw shadows over his cheeks. His long hair that was a stylish disarray, curling around his face and dropping down his back. His thin, wiry frame with the hint of muscle that Tohru thought only Sohmas possessed and that pale, flawless, translucent skin. The teen was the epitome of beauty and it all proved to stun the female, and the odd male, population.
But Tohru could also see past that.
In the one moment when Potter-san had glanced in her direction, most likely to look out the window, Tohru had seen a sea of emotion in the pools of emerald. Pain, sorrow, depression, fear, and some other emotions that she couldn’t distinguished had flashed through his eyes in that one instant, and then he had turned away and the sun shining through the window had hit his glasses, throwing back a glare.
All those emotions had Tohru’s heart clenching in sadness. She couldn’t understand. How could a normal teen feel all that and yet appear perfectly normal. And it was in that moment that Tohru had made a new resolution to add to her other one. She was determined to help this lonely teen in any way possible.
“Hey,” Arisa suddenly called to her, leaning back in her seat as she continued to stare at their math teacher. “Are we inviting the new kid for lunch,” she asked, whispering out of the side of her mouth. Tohru saw Saki’s eyes shift over to them for a moment, showing that she was also listening.
“Well,” Tohru whispered slowly, not wanting to disrupt class but also wanting to answer the question. “I think we should. He looks a little lonely.” Arisa’s brown eyes shifted away from the teacher to glance over at the boy sitting a little bit behind her.
“Hmm,” Saki hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, he does emit some lonely waves,” she muttered. “They’re twisted, and dark, and oppressed, and . . . odd.” A crease had appeared between her brows, hinting at her slight confusion. Tohru wanted to question if something was wrong, and then Saki spoke again, like she had heard Tohru’s thoughts.
“His waves are strange, not normal at all, but even odder than that of the Sohmas. And, he seems . . . like he has a lot of hidden power. So . . . strange . . .” Tohru’s eyes widened a little and she opened her mouth, wanting to know exactly what her wave sensing friend meant, but at that moment the teacher had called the end to the class and the scrapping of chairs signaled the beginning of the lunch period. And Tohru was easily diverted, her thoughts shifting back toward the boy still staring at his desk.
“Let’s do it now,” Tohru instructed her friends standing up as they came to stand beside her. She noted vaguely that Kyo and Yuki had disappeared from the room, something that seemed almost normal from them now, and she wondered if they would be joining her for lunch also. If not, she hoped they got a chance to eat some of the food she made them, they didn’t seem to do that much.
“Oi, Potter.” Arisa’s voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to look at the boy at the exact same time as he turned to look up at them. Bright emerald eyes that were hidden behind thin glasses focused to stare at the three of them, and Tohru noted that shock, sadness, and a hint of longing lingered inside of them. Arisa, who didn’t seem to sense the boy’s isolation, smirked and tilted her head to the side as she waited for a response.
“Um . . . hullo,” he muttered lowly, almost a whisper, and Tohru’s heart jumped a little at the sound of his voice, for it was the first time he had spoken. The sound was low and the accent was thick and captivating. And then he smiled hesitantly and Tohru was dazzled, much like whenever Yuki or Kyo smiled. Shaking her head, Tohru moved around Arisa.
“Hi,” she greeted happily, bowing deeply at him. When she stood back up she could tell that she had startled the boy a little. He was obviously not used to Japanese customs. Tohru pushed that aside for another time and moved to introduce herself and her friends. “I’m Honda Tohru and these are my best friends Uotani Arisa and Hanajima Saki.”
Harrison blinked, his eyes revolving over each of their faces before his hesitant smile turned into a full blown grin. Tohru drew in a breath, stunned, but she noticed that even though he seemed genuinely please there was still an underlining sadness in his eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said in that beautiful voice. “I’d introduce myself but I think you already know my name.” And then he chuckled lowly, a pleasing rich sound that had the girls remaining in the room sighing dreamily.
“Potter-san,” Saki spoke up in her monotone voice. “Our Tohru would like to know if you would join us for lunch today.” Tohru blushed at the ‘our Tohru’ part, but she nodded when Harrison looked inquiringly at her.
“It would be my pleasure,” he accepted politely and Tohru blushed even more.
“O-okay.” He chuckled at Tohru’s stammered agreement before standing and the four left the room. They stopped in their normal spot, under a large Sakura tree on the edge of the school grounds. After settling down with their food, Harrison eating what he told them was called a sandwich, Tohru spoke, attempting small talk.
“So, Potter-san,” she began to ask, but Harrison cut her off when he raised his hand. He gave her an apologetic smile before stating his reason for interrupting.
“It’s okay to just call me Harry.” He told them and when Tohru opened her mouth to protest he cut her off again. “Please, I insist,” and then, as if he knew her and how she would likely react, he added, “Japanese customs make me nervous.” Tohru blushed and nodded her head in understanding.
“I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, bowing her head. “I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Oh, how stupid of me. I —”
“Tohru, Tohru,” Harry called with a chuckle. “It’s okay. It’s nothing to fret about.”
“Oh, o-okay, um . . . well . . .”
“Hum,” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side curiously, and looked adorable while doing it. His dark bangs slid to the side, revealing something etched into his forehead.
“Oh, I . . . I don’t mean to pry,” Tohru stammered, twirling her finger nervously in her lap. She didn’t want to come off as intrusive but she was really curious. “But . . . um . . . what brings you to Japan?” Harry straightened and then shrugged nonchalantly but Tohru didn’t miss the tightening of his eyes.
“Oh, I just happened to trace my mother’s family back here.” Tohru muttered a soft ‘Oh,’ and she noted the way he said mother, with the loving care of a person who had lost someone dear to them.
“What happened to her,” Arisa asked rather bluntly, and Tohru shot her a tense look, begging her to back off. She had a bad feeling she knew what had happened to Harry’s mother.
“She died,” Harry deadpanned, yet despite his uncaring attitude, his eyes seemed to darken going from a bright emerald to a forest green. His sorrow was almost a tangible taste in the air, thick and suffocating almost. It seemed to pick him up and wrap around him and yet he didn’t seem to fully notice its presence.
“Oh no,” Tohru gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “That’s horrible. Your father must feel —”
“He’s dead, too,” Harry cut in matter-of-factly, and Tohru’s heart sank.
Tears sprang from her eyes when she realized that they were in the same boat. It was no doubt that Harry felt the same dark depression she hid deep inside her heart, but Tohru could see that he was suffering instead of coping. Acknowledging it but not conquering it, he was letting it simmer inside of himself, and Tohru could see that. But as Harry looked over at her he seemed to climb over that feeling, squish it down, and his expression flashed from shock and then to something much softer, something Tohru wouldn’t expect to see come from a complete stranger. And he aimed this foreign expression at her, why, she did not know.
“Don’t cry,” he crooned in a soft voice, like seeing her cry hurt him both physically and mentally. “It happened a long time ago,” he explained, and he raised his hand, like he was reaching out to her but thought better of it and let it drop at his side. “I was too young to remember. And . . . and the guy who did it paid dearly for his crimes.” The last part was said darkly, almost like an afterthought, and Arisa raised her blonde eyebrows at him, like what he said hinted at something deeper. Tohru didn’t catch it, too caught up in the fact that this boy was parentless at an age in which he could scarcely remember them. However, before the subject could be stretched and expressed upon, the Sohma teens walked over to them.
“Hey guys,” the ever bubbly Momiji chirped, plopping down beside Tohru. His cheerful disposition broke the thick tension that had previously tainted the air, and the four slipped back into something more normal, more familiar for a bunch of teens. The blonde boy looked around the group and gave them all a sugary smile before his eyes locked onto Harry. He tilted his head to the side and considered the dark-haired teen.
“Oh, Potter-san, you’re here as well,” Yuki asked giving the boy a polite smile that didn’t really reach his lavender eyes. Harry blinked before nodding his head in a mutual greeting.
“Yes, I am,” he murmured, and the Sohmas blinked, taken aback by his heavy accent or in Yuki and Kyo’s case, the fact that he was talking. “And you can just call me Harry.”
“Wow,” Momiji gasped when he had reeled in his shock. He leaned forward toward Harry, breaching the teen’s personal bubble and Harry leaned back, looking a bit uneasy. “You have a reallythick accent! Where are you from?” Momiji’s warm brown eyes roamed over Harry’s face and then his keen eyes caught sight of something hidden beneath Harry's thick bangs. “Oo, what’s that,” He asked, pointing rudely at Harry’s forehead and the scar that had always set him apart from others, that had made him a marked man. “Is that a scar? It looks like a lightning bolt! That’s so cool! How’d you get it?”
“Hum . . .” Harry hummed lowly, his eyes darting around as if he were looking for some kind of escape, for, even though he was sitting outside by a tree, he had suddenly felt very much like an animal caught in a trap. Momiji was still staring, and Harry began to fiddle with the cuff of his school uniform.
“Momiji,” Hatsuharu spoke up in a monotonous tone, his voice deep and drawling without meaning to be. “You’re making him nervous.” Harry shot Haru a thankful look that quickly disappeared when he realized that Momiji wasn’t so easily swayed. The boy, for he was quite small to be anything but that, leaned back and pinned Harry with an inquisitive gaze. Harry stared back, looking thoughtful as if he were pondering on whether he should answer the young Sohma’s question. Tohru noticed that he looked down at his right hand for a moment before he answered, although he didn’t look back up.
“Yes,” he muttered lowly. “It is a scar.” And then he added, as an afterthought, “I got it when I was one, the same day my parents were killed.”
A thick silence fell over the group and once again Tohru’s heart went out to the boy. It was sad to see that this teen had been orphaned at such a young age, barely a year to spend with those who had given him life. Barely a year to feel the love that only a parent, a mother and a father could give.
Finally Harry looked up and Tohru was pulled into the intense stare he pointed at her.
“Maybe I could tell you someday,” he asked, looking hopeful, his question only meant for her. His green eyes pulsed and glowed, causing a dark red blush to coated Tohru’s cheeks and she nodded slowly, offering him a soft and sincere smile. She would do anything to help the anguished teen if she could, even if it was just listening to his story.
“I’d been happy to hear it,” Tohru spoke softly, ducking her head as she said the words. Beside her, Kyo glared heatedly at Harry. He didn’t like the way the new teen was looking at Tohru. Something in the boy’s eyes had his back up. Harry gaze suddenly shifted toward him, as if he had heard his thoughts, but Kyo knew that couldn’t be true. And then Harry smirked and winked at him, as if to prove him wrong, that hecouldread his thoughts, and Kyo blanched.
The ringing of the school bell had everyone jumping up in shock, and they all rushed so as not to be late for class.
“Tohru, wait,” Harry suddenly called, grabbing at Tohru’s arm and wrapping his finger’s around her thin wrist. She stopped, turning to look at him with curious eyes. Yuki, Kyo, Arisa, and Saki hung back to wait for her, Momiji and Haru already heading off for their class.
“What is it Harry-san?”
“Later . . . can I tell you something?”
Tohru tilted her head a little, her confusion evident, but she agreed none the least. She wasn’t sure what Harry wanted to tell her, but she was willing to listen.
She was always willing to listen.
Harry shifted nervously as he waited for Tohru outside of the school gate. He wasn’t sure how the girl would take the news he was about to give her. Would she push him away? Tohru didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe she had been crying purely out of pity. That though had Harry frowning; he hated it when people showed him pity. But then again, she was in the same situation as he was. They were both orphans, both without the love of their parents.
“Harry-san,” Tohru’s soft voice brought Harry out of his depressing thoughts. He looked up to see the girl standing before him and a few feet away, her friends hovered, looking at him suspiciously. Harry chuckled mentally at that. It was obvious that they were all overprotective of Tohru and Harry could kind of understand why, Tohru seemed like she was one of those people who needed protection.
“Hey, Tohru,” Harry greeted back, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against. He lifted his arm and scratched the back of his head as he looked around, hoping the words might just come to him. “Um . . . I . . . I don’t really know how to say this,” he muttered. Harry took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Okay, well . . . I’m your cousin.”
When Harry looked up after a moment to judge Tohru’s reaction he was surprised to see that she was just smiling at him.
“Oh, I didn’t know my father had foreign relatives,” she commented softly.
“No, not from your father’s side,” Harry told her, shaking his head, and his bangs flopped into his eyes before he moved them. “My mum was your mother’s older sister.” Now the right reaction crossed Tohru’s face: shock.
“I-I didn’t know Mom had —”
“No one knew,” Harry whispered, cutting her off. “My mum was adopted before your mother was born, when she was six. The only ones that knew were our grandparents and the people who adopted my mum.”
Tohru nodded her head slowly at Harry’s explanation, although she still looked a little bit confused. Harry waited patiently, allowing her to soak the information in. After a moment Tohru’s face wiped clean except for the blinding smile she sent Harry.
“Ok,” she said, and then she looked behind her, as if sensing the impatient stares of her friends. “Oh, I have to go,” she whispered frantically.
“Oh, well . . . I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry muttered, a little downhearted. He had been hoping to spend some time with Tohru; he craved her presence if only for a little while. Tohru seemed to notice Harry’s change in mood and she smiled again.
“Would you like to come over and join us for dinner?”
“Oh . . . well, I wouldn’t want to be a burden,” Harry protested although his heart did lift at the thought of spending more time with his new found cousin. He wanted to curse his heart, because once again, without his consent he had begun to hope. It was only good luck that Tohru hadn’t disappointed him.
“No, no,” Tohru said, shaking her head. “It’s not trouble at all. And I’m sure Shigure-san wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled. “I kind of have to get back to the motel and —” Any further explanation he had been about to give her was cut off by Tohru frantic worrying.
“Oh no,” she said on a gasp. “You’re staying at a motel! No, no, you can’t do that.” She shook her head furiously then her face lit up as she let out an ‘Oh,’ on a gasp. Harry could practically see the imaginary light bulb shining over her head. “I’ll see if Shigure-san will allow you to house with us!”
“Oh no, Tohru,” Harry started to protest, trying to stop the girl as she turned away with a happy skip in her step. He sighed and shook his head, amusement bubbling up inside of him.
What had made him think that this girl would ever reject him? She was much too good, too pure, something Harry certainly wasn’t. Harry imagined that she was made of sugar and smiles, something every child craved in a companion, and in some ways Harry was a child.
“Harry-kun!”
Harry looked up, noting the sudden change from polite to informal in the way Tohru now addressed him. That simple gesture had him smiling and he walked over to join Tohru as she explained to her friends that Harry would be coming over for dinner.
“Oh!” the blonde Harry remembered was called Momiji, shouted, jumping up like a hyper rabbit. “Can we come over too? It’s been so long since I saw Gure and had some of your cooking, Tohru. Can we, please?”
“Oh, that would be great, maybe we could do barbeque,” Tohru said happily, and then she spun around, almost smacking Harry in the face with one of her braids. “Would you like barbeque Harry-kun?” Harry shrugged his shouldered and pushed his hair back behind his ear in one of his nervous gesture.
“Um . . . sure, that sounds fine.” The smile he aimed at her dropped a little when he noticed that she, actually all of them, were staring at him with shocked expressions. “W-what?”
“Is that an earring,” Momiji questioned loudly, pointing at Harry’s ear. Harry blinked before he remembered the act of rebellion he had participated in the summer he turned 17. He had simply walked out into the streets of London and into a piercing and tattoo parlor before walking back out sporting a new look, a pierced ear and a tattoo of a snake coiling around his bare forearm. Unconsciously, Harry lifted his hand to finger the dangling dragon on his ear.
“Um . . . yeah,” he answered hesitantly, and his voice seemed to shock everyone out of the stupor they had fallen into. Tohru blinked a few time before the smile that was quickly becoming familiar spread once again onto her thin lips.
“Oh . . . well come on, I have a lot to make tonight,” she announced. She then wrapped both of her arms around Harry’s right arm, only because he looked at a lost as of what to do with himself, and started to pull him away. “Bye, Uo-chan! Bye, Hana-chan,” she called to her two best friends as she, Harry, and the Sohmas walked away from the school.
Tohru lived with Yuki, Kyo, and their older cousin, Shigure. Harry wanted to question on the relationship. Why were none of them living with their parents? But as they approached the house a new question popped into Harry’s head.
Why did they live in the middle of the forest?
They were so far into the forest, Harry wondered if anyone knew they were there. Only someone with something to hide lived in secluded areas. And Harry should know. He knew a lot of people who had something to hide, himself included.
But then again, Harry could be wrong. He remembered that Tohru had mention that this Shigure was a writer. He could simply be living in seclusion because he liked the quiet, or because it helped him write. Writers always had a weird way of thinking, and they could be extremely picky, especially when it came to their environment.
“Harry-kun, we’re here,” Tohru called, breaking through Harry’s thoughts. He blinked and looked over at the plain Japanese style house. It had two stories and a kind of porch that wrapped around the first level. From what he could see, the floors were wood and the doors were paper.
Completely and utterly normal, and unspectacular.
Not at all what Harry had been expecting for a house hidden in the woods.
“Idiot, Potter,” Harry muttered lowly to himself. “You’ve spent too much time around Purebloods.” Harry shook his head and then looked up, only to meet the red eyes of Kyo. He was staring at him with something akin to jealousy and some suspicion. Harry tilted his head to the side; silently asking ‘What?’ and Kyo shook his head and turned away. With a shrug Harry followed the group into the house.
“We’re home,” Yuki announced loudly. There was a loud bang followed by a low pitched ‘Ow,’ and then the door further down the hall slid aside and a dark-haired man poked his head out. He smiled at the group and when his eyes landed on Harry the smiled turned more curious.
“Hello,” he greeted, stepping out into the hallway and approaching them. Harry noted that he was wearing some sort of bathrobe thing. Was that something Japanese people wore in the house? “Who’s this?”
“Harrison Potter . . . I mean Potter, Harrison, sir,” Harry informed him and he watched with a slightly amused expression as the man’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs, most likely because of his accent.
“Huh . . . well . . . I’m Sohma Shigure.”
“I know. It’s nice to meet you sir, and I’d like to add that you have a very nice home.” Shigure blinked and the others seemed startled by Harry’s formal speech, all except for Tohru who looked slightly amused, which was an oddity in itself.
“Well, thank you,” Shigure said after a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“No problem.”
The group was silent for a moment before Tohru spoke up.
“Oh, I should start fixing dinner,” she announced.
“Oh, let me help you with that,” Harry volunteered as the girl moved to go up the stairs located to the right of them. Tohru shook her head, her brown hair flying wildly.
“No, no,” she declined. “You’re the guest. I can’t have the guest cooking for himself.”
“Are you sure,” Harry asked, still pushing. He wanted to do anything to help the girl who had so easily accepted him. Tohru threw him a blinding smile.
“Positive,” she said and then disappeared up the stairs before Harry could protest again. The teen sighed and shook his head.
“Well,” Yuki suddenly said, and when Harry turned he saw that all of the males, except maybe Haru and Shigure, were staring at him with an expression Harry dubbed as the ‘Big Brother Look.’ It almost made him want to laugh. Already he could guess at what the Sohmas might want to talk to him about.
“We should move into the living room,” Shigure suggested, looking like it was Easter, Christmas, and his birthday all at once.
Harry shrugged and followed the guys into the living room. He took the only single chair in the room that was ironically facing all of the other furniture. It was like some kind of interrogation.
“Alright, let’s get straight to the point,” Kyo hissed, and Harry notice that that was the first time Kyo had opened his mouth in his presence all day. His voice was deep and rough, quite unlike Haru’s slow monotone, or Momiji’s bubbly cheer, or even Yuki’s melodic voice. Kyo leaned forward from where he had chosen to sit next to Haru, his expression venomous and his red eyes promising death. Harry stared back calmly, not in the least bit intimidated.
“What do you want from Tohru,” Kyo demanded. Harry arched a brow, taking note of the informal way Kyo said Tohru’s name. It told him all he needed to know. The others in the room looked at Tohru as maybe a sister, or a ward, or in Momiji’s case, a one-sided crush. Kyo however, Harry could tell was in love with her. And he was in deep, very deep. Once again Harry had to control the urge to laugh. How wrong all of them were!
“What I want from Tohru isn’t really any of your business,” Harry replied calmly, going along with their assumptions.
“Like hell it isn’t,” Kyo growled.
“I really don’t think it is,” Harry stated coolly, again hiding his laughter. Shigure’s head was moving between them as if he were watching some intense tennis game and the others were staring at Harry with unveiled anger.
They though he wanted to use Tohru. What a laugh!
“Potter-san,” Yuki spoke up in a warning tone, holding his arm out over Kyo’s chest as if to hold him back. Harry regarded this curiously. Would Kyo actually attack him? A small smile crept up Harry’s face at the though. While he didn’t welcome bodily harm, it was good to know that someone was looking out for Tohru.
“Could you please cooperate with us?” Yuki asked politely, but Harry could see the steel in his eyes. Hard lavender stared over at him. And it was then that Harry noticed the slight tingling feeling in the back of his head. His eyes widened marginally before he schooled his features. He lifted his finger and tapped his chin thoughtfully, giving the allusion that he was thinking about Yuki’s request. But really he was thinking about his instincts.
They were telling him that something magical was there, in fact, something magical was all around. He hadn’t noticed before, as he had been outside, but the magical pull was coming from the Sohmas. Briefly he wondered if they were wizards, and then pushed that notion away. They were too Muggle to be wizards, and even if, they would have had to have broken the Statue of Secrecy if Tohru was living with them. There was no way that they could have hidden that with her sharing the same house as them. No way.
“Potter-san.”
Harry blinked confused before he remembered that they had been waiting for an answer. Kyo was coiled like an angry cat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to pounce of Harry.
“Okay,” Harry drawled, leaning back in the chair, the picture of ease. “I’ll cooperate.”
“Well,” Momiji demanded when Harry didn’t continue. Harry smirked and his eyes trailed over ever face. They all looked tense and uncomfortable, and Harry wondered if he was the reason behind the unease.
“What I want from Tohru is quite simple. I just want her to want me.” Harry knew that the way he phrased his answer would get a rise out of them. He was silently happy that Kyo didn’t disappoint. The teen leaned forward even more, practically out of his seat now, and he glared at Harry hatefully.
“Why you —” Harry held up his hand, hiding his amusement as he rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t done,” he said, letting a single chuckle slip through. “I don’t want Tohru toloveme. That though in itself is kind of disturbing and I don’t particularly believe in interbreeding. I frankly can’t understand why some people do it. And another thing, Tohru isn’t my type. None of them are my type. They’re much too clingy and they talk too much and —” Harry knew he was rambling and so he cut off there, but he could tell that they were all confused. This was only further proven by Kyo’s unintelligible, “Huh?”
Harry rolled his eyes again.
“Let’s dumb this down okay.” He held up his hand, his index and middle finger extended to show the number two.
“There are two reasons why I don’t want Tohru to love,loveme.”
“And they are,” Yuki prompted when Harry had paused for dramatic effect. Harry grinned then, a show of his teeth.
“One: I’m gay,” and here he got some weird looks, but he simply shrugged them off, “And two: Tohru is mycousin.”
This was met by a deafening silence and Harry reclined once again in his chair, enjoying their disbelief. He could practically hear the click as the pieces fell into place.
“I . . . I thought that side of the family didn’t like Honda-san,” Yuki murmured lowly. A dark look flashed across Harry’s face and he was sure the Sohma’s noticed.
“No,” he told them. “They don’t.”
He paused then, his anger at the family’s treatment of one of their own evident on his face. His pupils seemed almost cat-like for a moment, sort of like Kyo’s own eyes whenever he got too angry, and it was a moment before he could speak again.
“In fact, neither side likes Tohru much, although I can’t see why. Tohru’s like a saint. She’s one of the purest people I’ve ever met.” The Sohma’s nodded in agreement, but Harry could see that his word had only proven to further confuse them. They did not know about Tohru’s mother’s side, because Kyoko had been disinherited the day she came back from the hospital. The same day in which Katsuya proposed to her, at least, that was what Oji-san had told Harry.
“Well . . . then which side? . . .” Shigure asked, not really needing to continue the question.
“My mum was her mother’s older sister.”
There was a beat of silence as they all stared at Harry in confusion, not sure if he was telling the truth.
“But her mother didn’t —” Momiji started to say but Harry had cut him off with a shake of his head.
“My mum was adopted, but not even she knew the truth,” he informed them. “I’m sure that if she had known, I would’ve met Tohru a lot sooner.” A wistful expression crossed his face as he thought about what that would have been like. And then he realized that Tohru would have been brought into danger had she had known him then and that idea frightened him. “But maybe it was a good thing that no one did know,” Harry muttered lowly to himself, a private aside.
Unbeknownst to him, the Sohma’s all heard him but they didn’t know what to make of his words.
“So, you just came here to meet Tohru,” Kyo asked skeptically. Harry shook his head, his hair flying around with the movement and his glasses becoming unhinged. He fixed his hair and readjusted his glasses before he answered more thoroughly.
“Not at all,” he spoke. “I didn’t even know about Tohru until last week. I came here looking for my grandparents.” Harry’s expression darkened once again as he thought of those people who were nothing like what he had expected parents to be. “Not the most courteous lot I have ever met. I can see why Aunty Kyoko went rebel.”
Harry sighed then and shook his head to clear it. For one fleeting second he had been almost glad not to have parents, and that frightened him. “I’m going to go and check on Tohru, see if she needs any help,” he suddenly announced and then he left the room, leaving the Sohmas in a state of confusion.
Harrison Potter was certainly an odd one, and enigma, an oddity among the oddities.