Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness	By : Ladygreychaton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 37460 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling, this is just for fun, with no intentions of profit.

Chapter List
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[[ Do not own Harry Potter, characters, rights to, any books, movies, songs, poems or references made.
Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Oliver Twist belongs to Charles Dickens. ]]
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Harry was enrolled in school that year, the same as Dudley. Being a child, Dudley was unaware of his cousin's abilities nor of his status in the household. It had been discussed that Dudley should be kept in the dark - what he didn't know, he couldn't give away. And the Dursleys didn't want their boy to make a request of Harry without proper supervision. What if he childishly wished for a friend to visit the moon, and Harry granted it, they wondered? The poor child would simply die, or vanish, and it would be on all their heads. Naturally, it'd be Harry's fault above all else, as Dudley simply couldn't be to blame for wanting to share the family pet. But really, it was probably best to keep him out of the proverbial loop.

As far as Dudley was aware, he simply had a cousin who had come to live with them for as long as he could remember. He was bookish, and liked to hang around with his father. Because of how much smaller than Dudley the boy was, he'd initially tried to bully and torment his cousin, jealous of the extra attention. But Vernon had stepped in and put an end to it, fearing the worst if Harry had lashed out with 'it'.

It was natural for boys to be boys, Vernon knew, but he far prefered the idea of his sweet Dudley to pick on someone who couldn't retaliate. Dudley was only asserting his dominance, perfectly natural. So, the blustering man had sat the pudgey blond boy down and tried to explain haltingly about how Harry was... useful to the family. That his skills were helping his father with the company. While Harry fetched or looked over things, it gave Vernon more time to spend with his family, and less time to spend at the office.

Dudley, being six, hadn't quite understood much of the conversation. But he had cottoned on to enough of it that Harry helped his father make more money, and Harry helped free up his father to give him time for his mum and himself. Which, was really all that mattered in the end. So, he decided that he'd have to ensure that others didn't pick on his geeky cousin, either.

Dim-witted Dudley, with his large frame likely inherited from his father, would become the gang-leader of Magnolia Crescent in years to come. And though he avoided his cousin like the plague, he also provided a sort of blanket protection - stating that his cousin was off limits. He felt little kinship with the small, intelligent, black-haired boy. But, he did care about his family, and more time spent with them was important to the boy often described as a baby whale.

Harry had been enrolled along with his cousin into St. Grogory's Primary School along with the rest of the children in the neighborhood. He hardly interacted with them, but he was aware of their existence, and they of his, just the same.

So when the morning of September 1st, 1986 came, he was washed, dressed, and ready to go just like the other children. The bus came, and they boarded after a steady assurance to his aunt that, yes, he had control over 'it', and he was very certain he wouldn't use it in public. Yes, he would look after Dudley, and yes, he would see them after school. Too anyone who didn't hear the heated whispers, it seemed that the woman was quite worried to let her nephew go from her care. Ah, first timers, they mused.

Like many children, Harry was excited for the first day of school. His eager mind devoured any book he could get his hands on, and he read well above his level. His Uncle didn't discourage this behavior, and would often remark that as long as he wasn't getting into trouble, and did as he was told, he could have any book he liked.

Dudley had been given a set of books from a certain author about a wizard, some halflings, dwarves, and elves. The reaction of Petunia would've been amusing at best, as she'd hurriedly hidden the books that eluded to 'it' from her precious Dudders, offering them to the boy in the second smallest bedroom. Simply saying with a sniff, "They're much more suited for you, I think." The sneer she wore was the only thing that could mar the novelty of the collection, but Harry had smiled and thanked her regardless.

It had taken multiple times of reading through the thick paperbacks before he'd grasped all the words inside, some of the larger meanings having initially escaped him, but eventually the boy had avidly followed the adventures of 'There and Back Again'. Just how many six year olds could do that?

However, when little Harry Potter entered St. Grogory's Primary School, he was gravely disappointed. The children were loud. They knew little, and so the teacher pandered to them. Most of it was a severe review of things that he had learned when he was perhaps three, the green eyed boy decided. Most children were learning their numbers, their letters, handwriting, basic reading, and eventually addition and subtraction. The only difficulty he faced was discerning the colors named.

It never occured to Harry that he might be a great deal ahead of his other classmates. It never even crossed his mind that they were generally all on par with their age level, and it was he who was the abnormal one, as per usual. For Harry had moved past reading 'see cat run, run cat run' and into Charles Dickens' 'Oliver Twist'. The idea of the young orphan had greatly applied to the boy, after all. Though he noted the archaic way of speaking took several times reading through to fully grasp, sometimes.

As with reading, he was well past basic math and working on times tables. Though he couldn't seem to get past single digit multiplication. The young Potter heir couldn't resist curling his lips into a snarl on impulse, a rare emotional response. Where was his challenge? Where was his interest? What was the point? He had looked forward to this day for years, and now he was disappointed. Why? Why did he always have to lower himself to their level?

The tables began to shake in response to the boy's chaotic, negative thoughts. Now, this was not the controlled magic he used at the Dursleys. No, this was simply a magical child, a very powerful magical child... who was upset. Accidental magic at it's best, you might say.

Windows rattled, and the tables bumped together under the onslaught of Harry's anger. Children squealed and shrieked, hugging each other tightly, eyes wide and searching for an adult instinctively. Harry sat silently and fumed, working to control his anger as the blackboard began to crack, blinds rolling open and the door to the class banged open and closed.

He breathed in. He breathed out. Green eyes closed on the scene of a strange storm brewing in room 107. A teacher called for attention, but the boy focused inwards. Was it dark? Things began to settle.

The 1st grade teacher set about checking for possible injuries caused by falling objects, soothing children as she passed by desks. Talk to a buddy quietly, everything would be okay, she assured them before passing on to the next child. Was it an earthquake? Earthquakes were not common in Surrey... how strange.

Harry returned that evening to Number 4 Privet Drive with the news that he would likely be moved to a more advanced class. The teacher could offer him nothing that he didn't already know, and he was to be tested for placement the following morning. School would then continue on schedule after he'd collected any additional supplies, and recieved his guardian's signatures.

No one seemed to mention anything out of the ordinary having happened, other than Harry being abnormally intelligent, so the Dursleys were content. As long as he hadn't used 'it', all was well.

But something had gone on, and Dudley remembered. Dudley now knew there was something different about his quiet, nerdy cousin. Though for some reason he found it difficult to think of telling his parents, he knew that something... not normal had happened, and Harry had been at the heart of it. His cousin was abnormal. His cousin... frightened him. Dudley Dursley realized with alarming clarity for a six year old, he didn't want to get on his cousin's bad side.

As the pudgy blond boy thought this, a pair of unnervingly bright green eyes caught his own beady, watery blue. Dudley resisted the urge to flinch and silently agreed with his own childish diagnosis. His cousin was not normal, and it was best to be quiet, best not to be noticed.

Harry seemed to smile at him, and for a moment the boy who looked remarkably like a baby whale, he could've sworn he thought he saw the shadow of some sort of bug crawl across the skin of his pale cousin's neck. But Harry didn't notice, so surely he was seeing things. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, or his over-active imagination.

Either way, Harry Potter was to be feared. He was to be watched, and he was not to be made an enemy of.

Vernon Dursley knew none of what his son thought, alternating between congratulating his pet and inquiring about his son's day, oblivious about the nature of Harry's growing power. Dudley was quiet, but seemed to have liked school overall. He had made several friends, and that was important at his age. He'd eventually balance play and learning, but there was plenty of time. Vernon puffed with pride, smiling down at his intelligent, handsome, strong young son. His boy, he was growing so well.

So deluded in his visions of the future, he and the other Dursleys paid little attention to Harry, dismissing him after the dinner he'd made for them. The boy had moved to his room silently, closing his door after politely excusing himself.

He'd done his usual chores, leaving the dishes to clean themselves. Dudley, lost in a world of games, did not notice the magic preformed. Most one-track children barely paid attention to where their food came from, so this was little shock, after all.

But, Harry, the boy who gladly hid in the shadows slipped carefully into his bedroom with a quiet sort of glee. Finally, he was alone. Finally, he didn't have to bother with his handlers. Finally, he could do things he had set out to do for himself.

The boy settled onto his bed to wait, picking up one of the many dog-eared books that adorned the many bookshelves in his room. As dusk settled onto Little Whinging, and the shadows drew longer, the light fading first to a red, then gradually to a deep blue, Harry simply sat and read. He could be quite patient after all.

He listened intently, and after a while, he heard the shuffling gait of his cousin, the mincing steps of his aunt following after, their voices low as they spoke to each other. The stairs creaked ominously as a larger, lumbering figure thundered up the stairs and disappeared down the hall. They didn't bother to say goodnight to Harry, and that suited him just fine. Really, he just wanted them to hurry and get to bed.

As he listened to them move about in the rooms down the hall, the boy grew more agitated. It was growing darker, and he had things he wanted to do. Things he wanted to try, things he didn't need Vernon's permission for.

Finally, he listened to Petunia leaving Dudley's room, her greeting to her husband as they met in the hall, as Vernon had just exited the washroom. And with quiet anticipation, the boy set aside his book, marking his place as he listened to their door creak closed.

Several tense minutes past before the boy straightened, leaning forward off the edge of the bed. The moon illuminated his pale figure perfectly, and he often found that being colorblind made seeing at night easier. The night, the dark, recognized no color, after all. So, with a swift sort of glee, the child turned to look the shadows along his wall. Which... had began to move.

Spiders, of all shapes, species, and sizes seemed to be crawling over the entire wall. However, the boy didn't appear frightened. In fact, a fond sort of smile adorned his face. Not the polite smile he usually wore, but an honest one that melted a bit of the cold glass the froze the green of his eyes.

Several spiders moved down to sway on silver threads of silk, chattering excitedly at the boy as they fluttered about his face. The boy nodded indulgently, smiling at the young enthusiasm of his friends. After all, they were his original friends from the cupboard beneath the stairs.

His head twisted to the side when there was a chattering from the wall separating him from the Dursleys. It appeared that his dream-weavers had finished their task. It was a difficult task, and still rather difficult. Harry would connect with a spider, and consciously plant an image of dream catchers and the idea of the Dursleys sleeping quietly. The spiders, as per instructed, would build webs above each of the Dursley's heads. Inside their webs would be the basic constructs of sleep, things to keep them sleeping quietly and peacefully unless something loudly woke them. Or, if it was simply time for them to wake up.

Naturally, Harry couldn't make it so they wouldn't notice loud sounds. If he was too noisy, they'd still rouse from their slumber, most likely angry and demanding answers as to why he was waking them in the first place. So, Harry Potter was very quiet as he opened his window, and very careful of his various friends.

As soon as the boy had done soon, two dark shapes moved into the smallest room and greeted him eagerly. The kneazle who had reported to Mrs. Figg several months ago, was now his loyal companion, and the banded tabby wove through his legs excitedly. Their connection open, the strings of colored magic relaying images of things the cat-creature had seen, and the hints of emotion that it had felt as well. The kneazle was young, only two years old, and excitedly jumped to sit on Harry's bed, tail lashing.

The next to enter had been a raven, a large black feathered thing that looked glossy with a sharp and angular beak. When Harry had first met the bird, it's wing had been bent at such an unnatural angle, Harry had been certain it would simply break off and be done with it. But with careful mending, and a bit of 'freakish help', the Raven had fixed. He'd nursed it's spirit, encouraged it to trust. Strangely, the Raven had taken longer to adapt to his strings than the Kneazle or the spiders. But as he fed the Raven and they spoke, it grew and grew. Strangely, it became one of the largest birds of it's kind he had ever seen. As large as any owl, with a great wingspan and sharp looking claws. This was the first time Harry considered the possibility that he could seriously be changing the things around him.

The Raven had taken over a local Murder, as the black feathered bird, now called Hecate as it was a girl, easily chased off the former leader. Hecate was his his friend, really. She had a very sharp personality, and seemed prone to sarcasm, even in the jilted way they seemed to communicate. Perhaps, it'd improve with time...?

Strangely, the kneazle seemed to have a hero worship of him. The cat was a bit odd, and if the way it... felt was anything to go off of, Harry would have to say that it enjoyed serving Harry.

The spiders seemed to think of Harry as their child, or brethern. One of their own, for that matter. And wasn't that odd. Sometime after that first attempt to force his Uncle's boss to do something for Vernon had changed him and them. During his stay in the cupboard, the spiders had soothed him, clambering over the exhausted boy. Their small legs sought desperately to find a way to fix, to heal, but it was beyond their knowledge.

And so... the spiders began to change too. It started off simply enough. They'd already begun to follow him to his new room atop the stairs. But after the incident, they had taken to riding about in his pockets, in his shirt or under his sleeves. The spiders still worried for their much larger, much darker brother, however. They squabbled and fussed, and it took a while but Harry and the small arachnids eventually found a solution... they moved beneath his skin.

Somehow, he could will a few to slide into him. Become one with his skin. They wouldn't die, in fact they found him to be warm, and dark. Some would sneak small sips of blood and he quickly grew immunity to their many and various forms of venom through the dosages. It wasn't perfect, but it worked for them. How had he got them there? He'd simply wanted to keep them against them, and they'd... slid. That was all there was to it. They could leave, as well. Some chosing to come and go, while others would take their place.

But their were four spiders that never really left Harry. One was a simple Walnut Orb Spider, not very venomous at all. But it had quietly assured him, almost shyly, that it adored the quiet boy. Harry had smiled, unable to deny the little thing, and named her Pheobe. After all, it appeared that they grew with him, and had longer lifespans. Maybe this way he could keep his friends for a long, long... long time?

The next little spiders were a set. A mated pair that had been the first to follow him to his new bedroom, the pair that had made the small funnel webs in his window. Tube Web Spiders, to be exact. Useful little things, and they tended to act like a big brother and sister to the boy, often giving handy remarks during the day time while he was with the Dursleys. The boy he called Sobek, and his mate Renenet.

The final spider that chose to live beneath his skin permanently, and not trade out with the others, was a False Widow Spider. They weren't always common in Surrey, but she had found her way to the dark child, and quietly claimed him as her own. She was more assertive than the other three spiders, more protective. As the most venomous of his skin-spiderkin, he had thought long and hard before deciding upon a name that fit her. In the end, he simply called her Kali.

Harry focused from his thoughts and considered those surrounding him in the dark. His... friends could go about their lives, Harry knew. The spiders, while attached through magic and string, were loyal simply because they loved him. The Kneazle cat had simply stated that even if he was released, he would protect Harry and watch out for the boy. Something about admiration. Again, the boy was confused. His Raven, Hecate, had scoffed, chewing on ends of Harry's long hair, tugging on it ruthlessly as she considered him before batting at him with her wings. She did not like the idea of leaving her idiotic kin-without-feathers.

Idly, Harry met each of their eyes, relaying his messages for the next day. Where to go, what to follow. Things to investigate, things to leave be. As he did so, the six year old was again bothered by a thought. This was not normal. Could others of his kind do this? Somehow, he didn't think so. Somehow, he knew they couldn't, deep in his gut. For all his intelligence and oddness, he was a lonely six year old boy. Very vulnerable to this sort of insecurity. And very alone in the world.

Something had changed in him. Whether it was the the night his parents were killed, and he'd awakened to that fierce green light... or the night Vernon had come to him in the cupboard. Perhaps it was the strange way he had felt after Vernon had tasked him to stay a simple shadow of the man. The boy recalled all this, but couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that he'd become different. He only knew that he was.
Little boys did not enjoy staying in the dark. They did not enjoy cupboards. They did not feed on the shadows, nor ask them to sway. And the shadows did not listen. But they listened to Harry. But why shouldn't they? Harry lived in the cupboard, or he had. He was safe there. It was quiet. His Aunt didn't like it there. His Uncle couldn't really reach him. The wails of his fat cousin couldn't reach as deeply as the dark. So when Vernon had instructed him to remain a shadow, he had been delighted to obey. After all, you only found your own shadow in the light, not in the dark.
And what about his spiders? Did other magical folk have creatures and bonds? Perhaps they could invite friends to live inside them in perfect symbiosis? Harry felt a sinking and knew this was likely untrue.

Pheobe quietly reprimanded him for his negative thoughts, and Kali agreed wondering if Harry should sleep soon.
With a smile, the boy disbanded his meeting, dismissing the kneazle to return to Mrs. Figg's house. Hecate hesitated, but bumped at Harry's shoulder gently, eyeing him distrustfully till he whispered, "I'll be just fine, Cate." So with a typical birdlike bob of her head, she hopped out the window and took wing and flew into the night.
Most of the spiders skittered into the cracks in the walls and ceiling, several calling farewells and promising to watch over him or slip into his backpack and clothes for his trip to school tomorrow. And so Harry Potter, the odd little boy slipped quietly into sleep, content with his odd place in the world.
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Hecate : Goddess of the wild places, childbirth and the crossroads. She is associated with magic and witchcraft.
Phoebe : Described as bright and golden crowned, she was said to be a moon Goddess.
Renenet : An Egyptian goddess of nourishment and the harvest. Goddess of the future, suckling, she was said to give each newborn babe a secret name to protect it along with it's mother's milk. Renenutet was seen as having a husband, Sobek.
Sobek : He is associated with the Nile crocodile, and was also associated with pharaonic power, fertility, and military prowess, but served additionally as a protective deity.
Kali : Dark mother and Goddess of death and destruction. She represents our worst fears and the freedom that we gain when we conquer them.
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[[ lolol : Hopefully I'll continue to please, and continue to flabbergast you, then? Sorry this one took so long. As for your question... I think every witch or wizard has an active core. It's capable of doing things, and processing things. Data, new spells, new designs. Eventually, it begins to fit into confines, or witches/wizards become less aware of it. It's still sentient, and trying to reach out, but unable to. Harry's went into "red-alert" the night his parents died, and never fully shut off. As he began using more magic, and instead of being told by the Dursleys, "There's no such thing" or "What have you done?!" or even "It's your fault!" thus making him shut down and wish the magic would simply stop, it continues on. I think soulmates are just people whose cores resonate. Kind of like... positive or negative that react to each other. Something like that?
This chapter has much less Dursley, as I've been working on gradually shifting POV, but to make it believable, it had to happen. And a much more emotional and interesting Harry, I think! Hopefully you like?
CDGaymer : Hm, I'm a bit torn. Part of me sees him as far too lazy to actively be ambitious. Magic simply comes. But perhaps as he becomes older he'll end up in Slytherin? Who knows? Maybe Ravenclaw... I think Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are out, sorry to any fans. ]]
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Carefully Tangled Webs of Darkness