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Quiet
By : Morosemordant
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape
Views: 11963 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1Disclaimer: Harry Potter is in no way mine nor do I make any money on it. The plot is mine however. - Chapter List
Quiet
Harry Potter/Severus Snape
This will be a long developing story if everything goes as planned. Sorry this is short it is just a teaser/prologue.PART THREE
The sun was hot on his back, and his hands were tender and raw, but the Garden looked beautiful. It was one of the few chores Harry didn’t hate so much. At least he got to enjoy the fruits of his labor some. The neighbors occasionally talked to him when the Dursley’s vehicle was out of the drive. A young couple to the right of number 4 when you were facing the houses from the street, the man was probably in his thirties and his wife was in her mid-twenties.
She was a sweet woman; Harry thought that if he had a mother she would be something like this. Mrs. Collins would bring Harry apples and bananas from her kitchen around lunch time if no one else was home to feed Harry. She was concerned about the small boy, and though he said he was almost ten she thought he looked like a kindergartener. She was a teacher, and she loved children.
Harry would never take a break in his gardening or fence painting to play with her, and she admired his work ethic. He would however sit and talk, and was surprised that she would smile at everything he had to say and thought his “imagination” was fantastic. The Dursleys usually punished him for any thoughts outside the norm. Harry wouldn’t tell Mrs. Collins that of course, but he was happy that she listened to everything else he had to say.
When Harry got up one morning he heard his aunt on the phone. His cupboard was surprisingly unlocked and he tiptoed out into the bathroom to wash up before anyone else could realize what he was doing. He took count of any sprains or bruising and redressed in his clothes, they were his only set.
Harry walked into the kitchen just in time to see Petunia hang up the receiver. She glared at him.
“It’s your fault you know. You shouldn’t get close to anyone boy, they all die.” Harry stood confused a minute and just looked up at his aunt.
“Mrs. Collins died in child birth. You thought I didn’t know she was your friend didn’t you? You fucking freak. She’s dead now, I hope you’re happy.” Harry looked stunned; he felt like he had been hit by a bus. His fault, it had been his fault? What had he done? Was it his freakiness?
Harry suddenly remembered all of his stories he had told, the imagination that Mrs. Collins had loved. His freakiness had killed her and her unborn baby girl. Harry broke down into tears, wet streams made their way down his face.
Suddenly he was on the floor, his bare knees buzzing from the impact with the cold linoleum. The back of his head was throbbing. He knew it was Vernon who had struck him, the class ring on his right hand always made a special impact on his skull. Harry put a hand to the back of his head and it came away red. He turned around to look at his Uncle and was throw several feet to the side by a boot to his stomach.
“Boys don’t cry you freak. Quit this pussy bull-shit and make breakfast.” Vernon pulled him up by his collar, the fabric ripped under the pressure. He was thrown down in front of the stove. He didn’t dare take a second to collect himself he moved to the cupboard and pulled out pancake mix before going to the refrigerator and pulling out the necessary ingredients.
The entire time he cooked tears ran unchecked down his thin cheeks. It was his fault.
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