Chapter Text
The small half sized wooden door was slammed behind Harry leaving him in darkness. Harry let out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding and pulled his knees up to this chest. Slowly he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on top of his knees feeling hungry and terribly, terribly lonely. They didn’t love him and Harry couldn’t change that. He couldn’t change the fact that their son, his cousin, was loved. He couldn’t change the fact that his cousin hated him. Harry closed his eyes and wished with all his heart that he had a brother, someone who could be his friend, someone who would be dark haired and small like him, someone who would love him.
Eventually he slept. He dreamed. He dreamt of terrible searing pain; his body stretching and twisting, tearing itself into two. He dreamt of all that was him being pulled from himself and divided. He didn’t have the words to describe it, it hurt and it didn’t seem to end until it was over. Harry wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. He was shaking and so hungry it hurt. He also felt empty in a different way, in a way that hurt his heart. Kind of like how he’d felt when he’d finally found the courage to ask where his Mum and Dad were and he’d been told about the car crash. Harry froze. He also wasn’t alone, the sound of someone else breathing was suddenly the only thing he could hear, the warmth of another body and the scent of something coppery overwhelming. Cautiously he turned the door handle and pushed the cupboard door open just a crack letting in some light.
He was small like him, unconscious and covered in blood and when Harry touched him to try and find out where he was bleeding the ache in his chest lessened. He didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere, at least not anymore. He had the same eyebrows as his own. Harry noticed, though the other’s were lighter in colour. Harry traced them with a finger and the other opened his eyes. They were a light brown Harry saw, not green like his eyes.
“Hi,” Harry said quietly.
“He…Hello” the other said back, perhaps a little loudly.
“Boy, who are you talking to?” His Aunt’s voice was sharp, cutting over the quiet murmur of the television.
“No one, Aunt Petunia” Harry was quick to say, but it was too late. He heard the sound of the television being turned off and her footsteps as she made her way over to his cupboard and then the screaming started.
Harry didn’t know why his Aunt was afraid of a naked nine year old, but he didn’t think it would help if he told her not to be. He was also still feeling kind of sore and shaky so he just did as she finally commanded and helped the other up the stairs and into the shower and later gave him some of his own clothes. They fit the other, just about as well as they did him, which is to say not at all, but at least he was now covered.
Harry helped the other down the stairs. He seemed a little unsteady his hand gripping the rail tightly. Harry didn’t tell him the rule about not touching the rail as he seemed to really need to.
Harry led him into the dining room and they both sat down at the table. Harry could see Aunt Petunia in the kitchen. She seemed to be staring into the distance ignoring his existence. She did that a lot. A glass of sherry was in her hands and she was tapping her fingernail against the glass. Harry looked back at the other. He was staring back and Harry felt suddenly shy. He glanced away and then back,
“Um, my name’s Harry. Harry Potter. What’s yours?”
“I don’t know.” The other said his voice was quiet this time.
“Well. Um, what name would you like?” Harry asked.
“Don’t give it a name. It’s not staying!” His Aunt’s voice was shrill and she was now looking at him, her mouth pursed into that moue of distaste she often wore when she looked at him, but she didn’t make any move to leave the kitchen or order him back to his cupboard. Harry waited until her attention went back to her sherry before relaxing slightly and looking back at the other. Harry gave him a small apologetic smile before he lent forward across the table and whispered,
“James? Okay?”
The other, no James, nodded sharply.
Harry smiled and then got up from the table and went into the kitchen.
“Aunt Petunia, Could we have some sandwiches?”
His Aunt’s hand tightened around her wine glass, but she didn’t say no only told him to wash his filthy hands before he touched her clean benches. Harry did so and made up separate sandwiches with jam and marmalade and when she wasn’t looking peanut butter for both James and himself. He was really hungry, hungrier than he could ever remember being. Harry neatly sliced the sandwiches and piled them onto a plate. He cleaned up after himself and then took the plate into the dining room.
James took one before he’d even set the plate on the table. He must be as hungry as Harry was.
Eventually the sandwiches were finished and Harry went back into the kitchen and washed the plate up and poured two glasses of water. His Aunt Petunia had finished her sherry and Harry washed her glass when she handed it to him.
“You can do the rest of your chores once you’ve finished with that glass and take that thing with you. Vernon will deal with the both of you when he gets home.” Aunt Petunia said. Harry nodded and took the two glasses out to the dining room table and gave one to James.
“I’ve got to weed the front garden now, but you can just watch if you like. You don’t have to help.” Harry said.
“I’ll help.” James said and drank the water before handing the glass back.
Harry quickly finished his own before taking the glasses back to the kitchen.
“You can wash those up before dinner. Don’t vacuum upstairs as I will be lying down and do not make a mess or do any more freakish things. Understand?”
“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” Harry said and left the glasses carefully on the counter before walking back and indicating for James to follow him through to the front garden.
He wanted to ask James so many questions, but he didn’t want his Aunt to hear, as he was always being told not to ask questions and he didn’t want her to forbid it again. So Harry waited until he was outside and had retrieved the weeding bucket before asking,
“Is James okay? We can choose another if you don’t like it.”
“I like James,” James said taking the small garden fork from Harry and starting to weed.
“How come you can, you know, talk and weed and stuff?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know” James said, “I have memories of weeding, but they don’t feel like my memories, If that makes sense.”
“Do you think that they are my memories?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know.” James said again sounding sad.
“Oh,” Harry said and knelt down next to James and started weeding.
They finished the first garden bed in silence before Harry asked all in a rush, “Are you going to go away?” he looked down at his hands, clenching them tightly before continuing, “Cause, I’d really like you to stay and be my brother and share my cupboard and everything. And I don’t know how to make you be born again, so it would be really bad if you. And I just want you to stay. Please stay.”
James put down the fork and faced Harry, “I will if I can.” He said seriously and wrapped Harry in a hug.
Harry was still vacuuming upstairs, his Aunt having sent him up while she started dinner, when the front door opened and the sounds of Dudley and Vernon returning filtered through.
Harry put the vacuum cleaner away his hands shaking again. James took his hand once he was done and silently led him over to the top of the stairs to the place where Harry knew you could hear but not be seen. Together they sat and listened.
Dudley was being given ice cream and sent to watch his shows. Uncle Vernon was putting down his keys. Aunt Petunia was talking quietly but furiously in the kitchen too low to understand.
“Boy, get down here!” Vernon’s voice filled the house and Harry could hear Dudley snicker from the lounge room.
James tightened his grip on Harry’s hand refusing to let go when Harry stood. Together they made their way down the stairs, James releasing Harry just before they entered the kitchen.
Dudley stared at the two of them having returned from the lounge room to watch the more interesting show of Harry getting in trouble.
“Who’s he?” Dudley asked.
“Well boy, what’s your name?” Uncle Vernon bellowed.
“James, Sir.” James said.
Aunt Petunia gave Harry a sharp look of disapproval, but said nothing.
“James what? Smith? Thompson? Carpenter?” Vernon asked.
“Potter, Sir. James Alexander Potter, Sir.” James said his hands at his sides as he looked up at the slowly purpling face of Uncle Vernon.
Uncle Vernon turned to Harry “Another freak like you! Do you think I want more freaks in my home? Do you?” Uncle Vernon demanded.
“No, Uncle Vernon.” Harry said.
“Your Aunt said you brought him here, without as much as a by your leave, scaring her half to death. So you listen to me boy and you listen well. You send him back, right back from where he came from and there will be no more of this nonsense. Do you hear me?!” Uncle Vernon yelled, his fat finger reaching out to poke Harry as emphasis on the last four words.
“Yes, Uncle Vernon.” Harry said, his voice tight as he tried to prevent himself crying. He didn’t want to send James back. He didn’t know how to send him back and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t!
“He can’t send me back.” James said, into the silence.
Uncle Vernon slowly straightened and turned to James his expression darkening further.
“You’ll go where I send you boy!” Uncle Vernon shouted.
“He can’t send me back.” James repeated loudly, “The neighbours will wonder where I went.” James maintained eye contact as he continued, “Mrs Figg was quite nice to us and I saw someone else peering over a fence.”
“Petunia dear?” Uncle Vernon asked.
“I did tell the boy to finish his chores and to keep it with him. I had the most wretched headache from all the fuss and I didn’t like the thought of it creeping around alone. It’s possible Vernon.” Aunt Petunia said looking worried.
Uncle Vernon seemed lost for a moment.
“I can tell the police my Mother dumped me here because her latest boyfriend doesn’t like kids. Everyone knows she was a drunk and had no job. It won’t be hard to convince them she lied about her death as well.” James stated his expression earnest.
Uncle Vernon looked at Aunt Petunia who shrugged minutely before he seemed to gather himself, “Right, the police will sort this mess out.” Uncle Vernon said before kissing Aunt Petunia briefly on the cheek, “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
He then grabbed his keys in one hand and James shoulder in the other and marched him out the door.
“How did you convince somebody to pretend to be your brother? Nobody likes you.” Dudley asked an expression of confusion on his face.
“He is my brother!” Harry yelled, stamping his foot once on the lino floor before running away from Dudley to wait at the front door for James and Uncle Vernon to return.
Uncle Vernon and James didn’t make it back in time for dinner. Harry saved some for James though Dudley stole the chicken drumsticks. Harry hoped it would be enough. He didn’t want James to feel hungry.
Harry wrapped the two plates in foil and put them in the oven before washing up. Dudley watched and occasionally flicked left over peas at Harry until he’d finished. Then he went back to the TV to sit with Aunt Petunia and Harry went to go sit in his cupboard, only when he opened the door the scent of stale blood was overwhelming. With nothing else to do except worry Harry dragged everything out and put everything that could be washed into the machine and started it. He then got what he needed and started scrubbing. They still weren’t back by the time the floor was clean, the machine finished and the clothes hung to dry in the laundry and the thin mattress flipped to hide the stains, but at least his room didn’t smell anymore. Harry lay on his mattress to wait and eventually fell asleep worry a hard ache in his stomach.
Harry was woken when the door of his cupboard was opened and James climbed in. Harry sat up and scrunched into the corner to give him room to take off his shoes.
Harry could hear the sounds of Uncle Vernon retrieving his dinner and starting. The light from the kitchen filtered through the crack under the door and Harry could see James’s silhouette as he got himself comfortable.
“Is everything fixed now? Are you going to be staying?” Harry asked nervously.
James nodded and opened his arms for Harry to come lie down.
“I saved you a plate as well. I can get it for you later.” Harry said as he carefully lay down and pressed himself against James.
“I’m not hungry. They gave us a meal at the Police station.” James said softly, shifting on their shared pillow and draping an arm around Harry. It was warm and comforting in a way Harry had never experienced before. The worry washed away Harry whispered, “Night, James.” before falling swiftly asleep.
The next day Harry was woken up as usual by his Aunt Petunia rapping on his door and he and James got up and helped make breakfast. It was a lot faster with three and after his Aunt Petunia saw that James knew what he was doing she stopped protesting and started giving him commands. Even though they were commands that mostly sent him out of the kitchen Harry hoped it was a sign that she was starting to accept him.
Everything was startling normal until Vernon put down his fork a half sausage untouched on his plate and cleared his throat nervously.
“Petunia dear.”
“Yes dear?” his Aunt replied absently, wiping Dudley’s face against his protests.
“At the police station last night, they mentioned reopening Lily’s case file given the appearance of the boy.”
Aunt Petunia’s tone was flat as she left off cleaning Dudley and faced Uncle Vernon “Lily’s dead, Vernon.”
“I know precious, they also mentioned given his troubled upbringing that they would be assigning us a social worker to help integrate the boy into our normal family.” Uncle Vernon was sweating by the time he finished the sentence.
Harry, James and Dudley wisely chose to withdraw from the dining room before the shouting started. Dudley went upstairs to play his computer games and James and Harry went outside to climb the tree in the front yard.
Harry lent against the trunk feeling the breeze through his hair and listened to James recount what had happened at the Police station complete with funny faces and unfortunate smears of tomato sauce in Uncle Vernon’s moustache. Harry was with his brother and he was happy. Completely happy.
Things changed rapidly after that. They were moved from the cupboard under the stairs to Dudley’s second bedroom. They were given two new single beds and they were even given new sheets and blankets. If they piled them all up onto one of the beds Harry might even be warm this winter. James was enrolled in Harry’s school and they were given new school uniforms and shoes after their social worker a woman who reminded Harry strongly of Aunt Marge sneered at their appearance Dudley was even put on a diet and exercise regime after the social worker spoke to the school nurse.
Harry didn’t really know what to think, but he liked the new shoes.
Harry didn’t cause anything else to happen until Dudley’s 11th Birthday. Harry and James cooked breakfast and then ate while Dudley counted his presents and complained. Then once breakfast was over and the presents unwrapped the two of them went upstairs to get ready to go to the library with Mrs Figg while Dudley got ready to go to the Zoo with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. It turned out that James was horribly allergic to cats of which Mrs Figg had many. Mrs Figg was still willing to mind the two of them, but they now stayed at number 4 Privet Drive with Uncle Vernon walking her home of an evening. Harry didn’t mind especially since Mrs Figg didn’t seem to like number 4 Privet Drive and would take them out to the library or the park for most of the day. Sometimes she would even pack sandwiches and fruit for a picnic lunch.
When they went downstairs Dudley was fake crying and wailing. Harry wasn’t very curious about why Dudley was carrying on, but Uncle Vernon had a frown on his face and Aunt Petunia was on the phone and next to him James was getting tense so Harry started paying attention. Mrs Figg had fallen and was unable to take care of them and no one else was available at such short notice. Aunt Petunia was now on the phone to Mrs Polkiss the mother of one of Dudley’s friends Piers who was meant to go with Dudley to the Zoo. Piers would now need to be dropped off and picked up at the Zoo a forty-five minute drive away. It didn’t sound as if they were willing and Harry felt worry settle in the bottom of his stomach. Dudley was horrible to him at the best of times if Harry was actually going to be denying him something he wanted Dudley was going to be a nightmare.
In the end all three of them climbed into the back seat while Uncle Vernon drove and Aunt Petunia sat in the passenger seat and turned around to try and coax Dudley out of his sulk at every red light.
The Zoo wasn’t that bad once Aunt Petunia had bought Dudley a chocolate ice cream and gotten Dudley to forget about his sulk by firmly saying ‘no’ when the sales assistant asked what Harry and James wanted. Harry would have liked an ice cream as it was sweltering hot, but having Dudley quicken his pace to walk with his parents and let Harry and James walk alone behind them was its own reward.
Harry liked the gorillas imagining Dudley as one of the lazier ones only with a blond wig. James liked the giraffes and they had to run and catch up with the Dursley’s after they walked on ahead while Harry and James stared at the giraffes awkward bending of their great necks to feed. They caught up at the reptile house. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon collapsed on the visitor seats at the entrance and encouraged Dudley to explore ahead and meet them on his way out. James separated to look at the lizards while Dudley and Harry went to the right to look at the snakes. James didn’t really like snakes, but Harry found them fascinating. Dudley typically found the largest snake in the place and pressed his face against the glass as if trying to telepathically get it to move. Harry hid his smile and admired an elegant coral snake in a smaller enclosure. Dudley eventually moved on and Harry went over to look at the large python curled sleeping on a flat rock.
“Sorry about my cousin,” Harry said feeling a little stupid to be talking to a snake but wanting to apologise anyway. To his surprise the snake lifted its head and made a gesture as if to say ‘I get that all the time’ Harry continued talking fascinated not realising Dudley had stopped further ahead and had turned around.
“What are you doing?” Dudley asked walking back.
“Nothing” Harry said, hoping against hope Dudley would leave it at that.
“Is the snake moving?” Dudley asked hopefully.
“No.” Harry lied.
“Move.” Dudley commanded reaching his side.
“No” Harry said stubbornly.
In an instant Harry was shoved hard falling to the cement floor and in front of him the large glass pane disappeared, leaving both Dudley and Harry gaping as the thick python slithered free. Then James was running over his face white as the python went past and then he was at Harry’s side, but his attention was on the space where the glass should have been. His gaze was intense and just as he started to sweat the glass came back into existence with a faint pop. James slumped against him and Harry put his arm around him in a hug.
Next to him Dudley straightened to his full height.
“You really are a freak. You both are” Dudley said in low ominous tones and Harry waited for Dudley to start yelling or to run to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, but he didn’t and somehow his silence was far worse.
Harry and James spent the rest of the weekend walking on egg shells around Dudley, but Dudley never said a word. Harry went back to school Monday silently breathing a sigh of relief.
Harry and James were eating their lunch in the courtyard in front of the teacher on duty. Mainly because Dudley and his gang left them alone if there was a teacher around, and because they got better lunches since James had mentioned this to Aunt Petunia. Harry didn’t know why this mattered to Aunt Petunia as the teacher ignored them whether they had fancy lunches or not, but he wasn’t complaining.
Dudley and Piers separated from their group and came over to where Harry and James were sitting and Harry rapidly got to his feet while James put away their lunch. It was never a good sign when Dudley actually wanted to interact with him.
“Hey Miss,” Dudley said getting the attention of the Teacher. “Do you want to see my fake punch?”
Before anyone could say anything Dudley slugged him in the stomach and Harry doubled over wheezing.
“Mr Dudley!” the Teacher said sternly grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from Harry.
“Aw Miss, it’s a fake. Piers show them” Dudley said and Piers roughly straightened Harry, elbowing James when he tried to interfere and lifted Harry’s shirt.
“See no bruise, barely a red mark. Harry’s learning to be an actor too. He’s getting really good, but Dad says we still have to practice.” Dudley finished and smirked while the Teacher looked unsure. Harry looked at the Teacher and at Dudley and did the only thing he could do. He twisted out of Piers grip, grabbed James and ran.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had always turned a blind eye to Dudley’s ‘rough-housing’, but now with the Teachers doing the same Harry’s life was miserable. James wanted him to explain that he wasn’t acting, that he just didn’t bruise easily. That variation was normal. He told Harry that the Teachers would make Dudley back off if they knew the truth. Harry however was afraid. He knew he was a freak. He knew that he could do things that others couldn’t. He had a brother for proof of that. He was afraid that if the Teachers knew they would tell people and then he might be taken away. They might even take James and Harry couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to him. Besides it was only until the end of the school year then Dudley would be going to some snotty private school and Harry and James would be going to the local comprehensive and they would be safe again. Harry could last that long. He would last that long.
Three weeks later Harry was coping, it hadn’t gotten any easier, but Harry had certainly gotten faster. James could barely keep up and while Dudley was a lot thinner than he was only a year ago, he was still more ball than boy shaped. He had no chance of catching Harry. Harry had forgotten however that Dudley was more than capable of setting up a trap. Harry bolted around the corner of the brick building that held the classrooms for the year below and slammed into Piers arms; another of Dudley’s friends was waiting for James and by the time Dudley sauntered around the corner they were both being held against the wall. The brick was rough and cold against Harry’s cheek and he wished he could close his eyes and not see Dudley’s awful smirk. With no Teachers around Dudley wasn’t even pretending this was anything else but what it was.
His taunts were the same as they had been for years; runt, freak, ugly, not so smart, nobody loves you. James made a sound of protest at the last one. Harry didn’t care, none of it was new and he could live with name calling he knew what came next. Sure enough Dudley swaggered closer and raised his right fist. Harry saw the movement as Dudley’s fist went for his side. Harry felt a sudden chilling coldness in his right side and then Dudley was howling clutching his bloody and bruised hand. Piers bolted, but another of Dudley’s friends let go of James and started yelling for a Teacher.
Harry slumped against the wall, his right side felt oddly heavy. James came over and fussed at his side. Harry tried to tell him he was fine and that he didn’t feel any pain at all. James insisted on pulling his shirt up to check the damage anyway. Whatever he saw made his face go white and he hurriedly pulled the shirt down tucking it into Harry’s pants. Harry tried to pull his shirt up to look for himself, but James slapped his hands away and got his shoulder under Harry’s arm to pull him up.
“Come on, we’ve got to go” James said and looking over at Dudley’s friends said seriously “We weren’t here. Understand?”
The one holding Dudley nodded frantically and they were allowed to slip away.
James took him to the boy’s toilets where he pushed Harry into one of the stalls and stood guard outside the door while Harry pulled up his shirt and looked down at the spot Dudley had hit. The skin from just under his ribs to the knobbly bone of his hip was grey and rough to the touch. I was also stone cold. In the dim light of the stall Harry couldn’t see how far around his back it went but under his fingers the skin a good space around his spine felt normal. Harry pulled his shirt back down shakily and tucked his shirt in properly not caring that his ratty belt was showing.
Harry unlocked the stall and faced James.
“Can you fix it? Like the glass?” Harry asked desperately.
James shook his head. “I don’t know how” and then he continued in a small voice. “I do know someone who can help though.”
“Who?” Harry asked.
“Our babysitter Mrs Figg. Do you think you can last through the rest of the day?” James asked.
Harry shook his head, “Uncle Vernon will be called to collect Dudley. He’ll pull me out of school to punish me for letting Dudley get hurt.”
A bitter look passed briefly over James face before he nodded. “We’ll have to go now then. Can you walk?” James asked.
Harry nodded, “Why do you think Mrs Figg can help? She’s a little crazy but she’s just our babysitter.”
James opened his mouth as if to say something then closed it. “She just can” he said finally.
“Oh.” Harry said. He was starting to feel cold and he wanted to leave the boy’s toilets. “How are we going to leave the school?”
“I can undo the lock on the back gate. No one will see us.”James replied.
Harry blinked. This was news to him. “Ok.” He said.
Surprisingly it was okay. The drama with Dudley had pulled most of the students to the front of the school and James pulled out a few of Aunt Petunia’s special hat pins taped together into two separate rods and was able to unlock the back gate even if it did take longer than in the movies. No one stopped them. The walk itself was difficult. Harry felt strangely lopsided and his balance was effected he fell a few times over cracks in the pavement he’d never even noticed before, but they did get there in the end. James knocked for them and after a few minutes and more than a couple of I’m coming yells and softer swear words through the wooden door Mrs Figg’s did manage to get it open. She was still using crutches for her broken leg and the previously white cast was now a dirty off-white and frayed at the edges.
“Harry.” She said sounding surprised, “Oh, and James of course what can I do for you?”
James opened his mouth as if to speak and again closed it before shaking his head in frustration and starting again, “May we come in? Harry would like to show you something.” His words were careful and more measured than usual. Harry looked at him worriedly, but followed him inside when Mrs Figg wordlessly waved them inside and moved in an awkward shuffle to give them room to do so.
They moved forward down the hallway to the lounge room and sat on one of the paisley couches while they waited for Mrs Figg to manage the same trip. Cat’s flowed around them and while James sneezed once or twice it was nothing like the explosion of sneezes from their first visit.
“I thought you were allergic to cats?” Harry asked quietly unable to think of anything else to say.
“I am,” James said and when Harry kept starring continued reluctantly, “I used pepper from the kitchen. I wasn’t going to risk staying here again.”
Harry nodded wondering why he hadn’t done the same thing years ago.