Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Balancing Without A Net ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: EmruasCat 
Twins and reporters
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.10.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 679 | Status: Work In Progress
Twins and reporters
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.10.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 679 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.
*By the way, this story completely ignores Sirius’ death and the Horcruxes. That’s why it’s Alternate Universe – for that, and, you know, time travel.
Warnings: Abuse – physical, sexual, and emotional. Male/Male slash.
Chapter 2
Harry stayed in the (relative) safety of Fred and George’s store for the next couple of days. The Prophet, of course, got wind of the fact that Harry had received a magical creature Inheritance, and the twins’ store was packed with people pretending to browse while trying to get a glimpse of him. Harry was disgusted by all of the gawking, and the twins were highly amused.
Harry took over handling the twins’ books, since neither Fred nor George was talented when it came to taxes. Since coming into his Inheritance, Harry had received several owls from Gringotts. Now that he had full access to the Potter family vaults, he was one of the richest wizards in Britain. Handling the twins’ accounts was good practice for having to handle his own.
The closer it got to school starting, the more students from Hogwarts began to stop in. Harry was still friends with Seamus and Dean, so when they stopped by he took some time off to walk through Hogsmeade with them. He was forced to keep his tail wrapped tightly about his waist, as many people in the street didn’t seem to comprehend the concept of “personal space” when it came to him.
They ended up at the Hog’s Head, sitting in a corner booth with mugs of butterbeer. Harry spotted several reporters and grimaced; when Madame Rosmerta came around to see if they needed anything, he quietly asked her to shoo them away. She gave him a sympathetic look and nodded after refilling their mugs.
Harry split up from his friends after they’d had their drinks. Uncomfortable with all the staring, Harry decided to head back to Weaseley’s Wizard Wheezes, but before he could take more than a few steps a flashbulb went off in front of his eyes, blinding the poor nekoshin temporarily.
“Mr. Potter!” Rita Skeeter’s nasal voice was the last one Harry wanted to hear. “How nice to see you!”
“Ms. Skeeter,” Harry murmured, trying to step around the muscled cameraman.
“Now, Mr. Potter, won’t you answer a few –“ Rita had grabbed Harry’s left arm, which was still heavily bruised, and when her long nails dug in to the hurt, Harry’s creature side surfaced for the first time.
He hissed savagely, and slashed at her with his right hand, which had sprouted claws where his nails were supposed to be. Rita jumped back in shock, but not before Harry had managed to shred a good bit of her sleeve. “Fuck off!” Harry snarled between hisses, and darted swiftly past the reporter. He knew he was headed away from WWW, but what mattered was getting away. Period. He absently noted to himself that at least he knew now why his fingernails had hurt so much the night of his Inheritance.
He found himself at one of Hogsmeade’s Apparition Points and, with a shrug, decided to drop by Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping. One of the first things the twins had taught him, within a day of living with them, was how to apparate – never mind that Harry hadn’t taken the official Ministry test.
***
His first stop was Flourish and Blotts for more parchment, ink, and quills (he’d developed a rather annoying habit of shredding the last without even realizing it), as well as the textbooks he’d need for that year. He arranged to have them delivered to WWW, then decided to browse for magical creature texts, hoping to find something on nekoshins. As he wandered through the bookshelves, he heard a familiar voice and cringed.
“Honestly, Mum, why did we have to come here personally? With the kind of money we have, we could have had our textbooks delivered.”
“Yes, Ron darling,” Molly Weaseley’s voice chided, “but I needed to look for a few charm manuals for myself. Why don’t you go to the sports section and find yourself an extra bit of reading?”
Ron’s sneering voice continued to grumble and grow closer, and Harry hastily edge away –
- Only to round a corner and come face to face with the Malfoy family.
The Malfoys, it had been revealed, were spies for Dumbledore, a fact that had made Snape turn red with fury because Dumbledore had not seen fit to inform him of this fact. Briefly, Harry’s mind flashed back to the last time he’d been in the same room as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy: he’d attended a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in order to meet everyone who had fought during the first war, only for the meeting to dissolve into chaos when the Malfoys walked in.
Molly Weaseley’s face was a brighter shade of red than her hair. “You put that cursed diary in my Ginny’s books! You endangered her SOUL! Get out!”
“I acted as I did to keep my own family safe,” Lucius snapped back. “And I say, once again, that my actions concerning the diary of Tom Riddle were not determined by me alone! I was an agent of your precious Dumbledore, woman! Why don’t you stop and think, for once, instead of shrieking like a banshee as you usually do!”
That little revelation alone had been another reason for Harry’s trust in the headmaster to crumble, particularly when Dumbledore had defended his actions by saying they had been for the greater good. Was it for the greater good that Harry had had to face a basilisk with nothing but the Sorting Hat and Fawkes?
Harry mentally shook his head. Once he had destroyed Voldemort, he and Draco had come to a truce of sorts. Their rivalry had not ended by any means, but they no longer came to blows every time they met.
Harry ducked his head, murmured a soft greeting, and started to walk past the three beautiful blonds.
“Well, well, Harry – fancy seeing you here!” Ron’s obnoxious voice made Harry wince.
“Ron,” Harry said softly, and tried again to leave.
The redhead grabbed Harry’s left arm in almost the exact same place that Rita Skeeter had, and Harry felt his creature rise again. Though he wasn’t aware of it, the pupils of his eyes had become slitted like a cat’s, and Draco recognized the danger sign for what it was.
“I believe, Weasel, that Potter has no interest in speaking with you,” Draco said, his tone dripping utter disdain, his stance relaxed and ready.
Ron sneered back. “I don’t need your input, Ferret.” He turned his attention to Harry. “Why the glamour, Harry? Surely with your…creature blood exposed you have nothing left to hide.” Ron’s voice oozed with malicious curiosity.
Harry knew that if his control slipped, so would his glamour. He glanced about desperately for a distraction.
The elder male Malfoy stirred, and his silky, midnight voice purred with menace. “I hardly think that is your concern, Weaseley. I bid you good day.”
Ron stiffened. “You can’t dismiss me,” he snarled, not letting go of Harry.
“Ron!” Molly Weaseley’s shrill voice cut across the bookshelves. “Are you done?”
Ron’s lip curled. “Just a moment, Mum,” he called back. He looked at his former best friend. “We’ll talk later, Potter.”
Harry watched his former friend walk away, rubbed his hurt arm, and tried to force back tears of hurt and betrayal. Both Harry and Hermione had checked Ron for signs of the Imperius spell after Harry and Ron’s final row – but Ron was acting of his own accord.
“Are you in need of a mediwizard, Mr. Potter?” Narcissa Malfoy’s voice, carefully neutral, cut across Harry’s pained thoughts.
He looked up at her. As he stood at a grand total of five foot four, all three Malfoys were at least a good six inches taller than him. “No, Lady Malfoy, thank you for your concern,” he said quietly, startling Narcissa with his use of her proper title. He glanced at the men. “Thank you for…intervening.” He bowed to the family, and made to walk past.
“Mr. Potter.” Lucius’ silky voice stopped him, and he looked up questioningly.
The elder blond reached out and touched Harry’s face, fingertips brushing over the worst bruise, causing the nekoshin to flinch. “You might want to strengthen the glamour.”
Harry swallowed and added another layer of magic to the mask covering his body. “Thank you, Lord Malfoy,” he said hoarsely, and hurried out of the shop.
***
Draco watched his rival go with narrowed eyes, then turned to his father. “Well? What was the glamour hiding?”
“That is Mr. Potter’s business, Draco.” Lucius gave his son an uncharacteristically stern look. “You will not bother him about it.” It was a decree, and Draco bent his head reluctantly in acknowledgement, now more curious than ever. His father rarely involved himself in the personal affairs of others; that he had done so for Harry Potter told Draco that the glamour was hiding something very important.
Draco hated mysteries, and made a point of solving them as soon as possible.
*By the way, this story completely ignores Sirius’ death and the Horcruxes. That’s why it’s Alternate Universe – for that, and, you know, time travel.
Warnings: Abuse – physical, sexual, and emotional. Male/Male slash.
Chapter 2
Harry stayed in the (relative) safety of Fred and George’s store for the next couple of days. The Prophet, of course, got wind of the fact that Harry had received a magical creature Inheritance, and the twins’ store was packed with people pretending to browse while trying to get a glimpse of him. Harry was disgusted by all of the gawking, and the twins were highly amused.
Harry took over handling the twins’ books, since neither Fred nor George was talented when it came to taxes. Since coming into his Inheritance, Harry had received several owls from Gringotts. Now that he had full access to the Potter family vaults, he was one of the richest wizards in Britain. Handling the twins’ accounts was good practice for having to handle his own.
The closer it got to school starting, the more students from Hogwarts began to stop in. Harry was still friends with Seamus and Dean, so when they stopped by he took some time off to walk through Hogsmeade with them. He was forced to keep his tail wrapped tightly about his waist, as many people in the street didn’t seem to comprehend the concept of “personal space” when it came to him.
They ended up at the Hog’s Head, sitting in a corner booth with mugs of butterbeer. Harry spotted several reporters and grimaced; when Madame Rosmerta came around to see if they needed anything, he quietly asked her to shoo them away. She gave him a sympathetic look and nodded after refilling their mugs.
Harry split up from his friends after they’d had their drinks. Uncomfortable with all the staring, Harry decided to head back to Weaseley’s Wizard Wheezes, but before he could take more than a few steps a flashbulb went off in front of his eyes, blinding the poor nekoshin temporarily.
“Mr. Potter!” Rita Skeeter’s nasal voice was the last one Harry wanted to hear. “How nice to see you!”
“Ms. Skeeter,” Harry murmured, trying to step around the muscled cameraman.
“Now, Mr. Potter, won’t you answer a few –“ Rita had grabbed Harry’s left arm, which was still heavily bruised, and when her long nails dug in to the hurt, Harry’s creature side surfaced for the first time.
He hissed savagely, and slashed at her with his right hand, which had sprouted claws where his nails were supposed to be. Rita jumped back in shock, but not before Harry had managed to shred a good bit of her sleeve. “Fuck off!” Harry snarled between hisses, and darted swiftly past the reporter. He knew he was headed away from WWW, but what mattered was getting away. Period. He absently noted to himself that at least he knew now why his fingernails had hurt so much the night of his Inheritance.
He found himself at one of Hogsmeade’s Apparition Points and, with a shrug, decided to drop by Diagon Alley for a bit of shopping. One of the first things the twins had taught him, within a day of living with them, was how to apparate – never mind that Harry hadn’t taken the official Ministry test.
***
His first stop was Flourish and Blotts for more parchment, ink, and quills (he’d developed a rather annoying habit of shredding the last without even realizing it), as well as the textbooks he’d need for that year. He arranged to have them delivered to WWW, then decided to browse for magical creature texts, hoping to find something on nekoshins. As he wandered through the bookshelves, he heard a familiar voice and cringed.
“Honestly, Mum, why did we have to come here personally? With the kind of money we have, we could have had our textbooks delivered.”
“Yes, Ron darling,” Molly Weaseley’s voice chided, “but I needed to look for a few charm manuals for myself. Why don’t you go to the sports section and find yourself an extra bit of reading?”
Ron’s sneering voice continued to grumble and grow closer, and Harry hastily edge away –
- Only to round a corner and come face to face with the Malfoy family.
The Malfoys, it had been revealed, were spies for Dumbledore, a fact that had made Snape turn red with fury because Dumbledore had not seen fit to inform him of this fact. Briefly, Harry’s mind flashed back to the last time he’d been in the same room as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy: he’d attended a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in order to meet everyone who had fought during the first war, only for the meeting to dissolve into chaos when the Malfoys walked in.
Molly Weaseley’s face was a brighter shade of red than her hair. “You put that cursed diary in my Ginny’s books! You endangered her SOUL! Get out!”
“I acted as I did to keep my own family safe,” Lucius snapped back. “And I say, once again, that my actions concerning the diary of Tom Riddle were not determined by me alone! I was an agent of your precious Dumbledore, woman! Why don’t you stop and think, for once, instead of shrieking like a banshee as you usually do!”
That little revelation alone had been another reason for Harry’s trust in the headmaster to crumble, particularly when Dumbledore had defended his actions by saying they had been for the greater good. Was it for the greater good that Harry had had to face a basilisk with nothing but the Sorting Hat and Fawkes?
Harry mentally shook his head. Once he had destroyed Voldemort, he and Draco had come to a truce of sorts. Their rivalry had not ended by any means, but they no longer came to blows every time they met.
Harry ducked his head, murmured a soft greeting, and started to walk past the three beautiful blonds.
“Well, well, Harry – fancy seeing you here!” Ron’s obnoxious voice made Harry wince.
“Ron,” Harry said softly, and tried again to leave.
The redhead grabbed Harry’s left arm in almost the exact same place that Rita Skeeter had, and Harry felt his creature rise again. Though he wasn’t aware of it, the pupils of his eyes had become slitted like a cat’s, and Draco recognized the danger sign for what it was.
“I believe, Weasel, that Potter has no interest in speaking with you,” Draco said, his tone dripping utter disdain, his stance relaxed and ready.
Ron sneered back. “I don’t need your input, Ferret.” He turned his attention to Harry. “Why the glamour, Harry? Surely with your…creature blood exposed you have nothing left to hide.” Ron’s voice oozed with malicious curiosity.
Harry knew that if his control slipped, so would his glamour. He glanced about desperately for a distraction.
The elder male Malfoy stirred, and his silky, midnight voice purred with menace. “I hardly think that is your concern, Weaseley. I bid you good day.”
Ron stiffened. “You can’t dismiss me,” he snarled, not letting go of Harry.
“Ron!” Molly Weaseley’s shrill voice cut across the bookshelves. “Are you done?”
Ron’s lip curled. “Just a moment, Mum,” he called back. He looked at his former best friend. “We’ll talk later, Potter.”
Harry watched his former friend walk away, rubbed his hurt arm, and tried to force back tears of hurt and betrayal. Both Harry and Hermione had checked Ron for signs of the Imperius spell after Harry and Ron’s final row – but Ron was acting of his own accord.
“Are you in need of a mediwizard, Mr. Potter?” Narcissa Malfoy’s voice, carefully neutral, cut across Harry’s pained thoughts.
He looked up at her. As he stood at a grand total of five foot four, all three Malfoys were at least a good six inches taller than him. “No, Lady Malfoy, thank you for your concern,” he said quietly, startling Narcissa with his use of her proper title. He glanced at the men. “Thank you for…intervening.” He bowed to the family, and made to walk past.
“Mr. Potter.” Lucius’ silky voice stopped him, and he looked up questioningly.
The elder blond reached out and touched Harry’s face, fingertips brushing over the worst bruise, causing the nekoshin to flinch. “You might want to strengthen the glamour.”
Harry swallowed and added another layer of magic to the mask covering his body. “Thank you, Lord Malfoy,” he said hoarsely, and hurried out of the shop.
***
Draco watched his rival go with narrowed eyes, then turned to his father. “Well? What was the glamour hiding?”
“That is Mr. Potter’s business, Draco.” Lucius gave his son an uncharacteristically stern look. “You will not bother him about it.” It was a decree, and Draco bent his head reluctantly in acknowledgement, now more curious than ever. His father rarely involved himself in the personal affairs of others; that he had done so for Harry Potter told Draco that the glamour was hiding something very important.
Draco hated mysteries, and made a point of solving them as soon as possible.