Scattered Fragments of Illusion by MellarkandArt

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Alex exclaimed, leaning over to take a closer look. Harry thought it looked horrendous, but he appreciated the praise nonetheless.

It was early November and Dudley and his gang were currently occupied hiding out behind the school passing some sort of dirty magazine between themselves, so Harry felt fairly safe on the ground today with Alex, where they sat drawing pictures in the dirt with sticks during lunch recess.

“Do you draw?” Alex asked him, admiring his dirt chickens. He had made a mother hen and a couple of chicks trailing behind her. “Like on paper, I mean.”

“Um, I dunno. I’ve never really tried it,” Harry replied. He’d done a few doodles on the edges of his school notebook he supposed, but he was lucky to have a notebook at all and didn’t want to waste the paper on something so frivolous, and he only had a number 2 pencil to work with, anyway. Besides, he didn’t have much time for such things.

“You should try it,” Alex suggested, smiling brightly.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded absently, watching Dudley and the gang from a distance. A distance that seemed to be quickly approaching the two of them. “Come on,” he said, standing quickly and offering Alex a hand up.

She just looked up at him, confused. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just come on,” said Harry, pulling her up, albeit a bit too forcefully. She stumbled into him as she stood. The moment of hesitation cost them dearly as the gang approached them as she was regaining her balance. They were surrounded by the buffoons before they could even think of escaping.

“Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or did the freak actually manage to snag himself a little girly friend?” sing-songed the voice of Harry’s cousin, and Harry turned to see the larger boy grinning maniacally. His eyes trailed over Alex’s frame, somehow managing to come off as a pervert even at eight years old.

“Piss off, Dudley,” Harry muttered, cheeks flushing bright red. Alex had of course known from the first day that he didn’t exactly get along with the other kids, but he had been hoping that maybe she wouldn’t actually bear witness to a Harry Hunting episode. Or at least not be dragged into the mess right alongside him.

“I’m just looking, Four-Eyes,” Dudley shot back. The group of boys snickered. Harry took a deep breath and moved to fully face the group. They made for a ridiculous sight, trying to look big and intimidating whilst sporting Danger Mouse t-shirts and the like.

“What a dig, Big D, I’m so very hurt,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, you’re gonna hurt,” Dudley threatened, getting up close and personal. Harry could feel his disgustingly hot breath on his face. He considered spitting on the boy but decided that it would only waste time. And, knowing Dudley, his cousin would insist on being taken to the hospital in London after being infected with freak germs.

Even if the idea brought on an aesthetically pleasing image, the punishment Harry would surely receive for his role in the ordeal was certainly not worth it.

Harry instead shoved Dudley away from him, and, once more tugging on Alex’s hand, pushed through the crowd of boys to make a beeline for the oak tree.

The gang had a delayed reaction, and the two were able to make a near flawlessly executed escape. They scrambled up the branches, Piers made a grab for Harry’s ankle but he managed to shake him off and continued his retreat. The boys below could still be heard making jabs and jeers through the rush of blood in Harry’s ears, but not one of them made an attempt to follow them up the tree. What chickens.

“Sorry,” Harry said breathlessly once they had settled upon the thickest branch. “He’s always going after me.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” Alex said nonchalantly before laughing. Dudley Dursley was a prat through and through, but it was fairly obvious that the boy had a particular dislike for Harry. The black-haired child was public enemy #1 as far as the neighborhood boys were concerned.

“Why is he so obsessed with you, anyway?” Alex asked after a moment of giggles.

Harry bit his lip and shrugged before answering. “He’s my cousin.”

Alex’s eyebrows rose. “Why does he treat you like crap, then?”

“I dunno,” Harry replied honestly. He had never been totally clear on why Dudley or any of the other Dursleys hated him, he just knew that they did. “We just don’t get along.”

Alex was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “So he’s your aunt and uncle’s kid, you live with him?” Harry nodded.

“Why does he have such nice clothes and stuff, then? I mean, no offense but you…” her eyes trailed over his baggy clothing. “I just thought that your family wasn’t well off or something.”

“He’s their son, I’m just their nephew,” Harry said without hesitation. Sure, it would be nice if the Dursleys at least pretended to want him around, but they all knew that they didn’t. It was just different and Harry accepted it as a fact of life.

“They are your guardians though, aren’t they?” Alex asked, furrowing her brow.

“Yeah…”

Alex didn’t say anything else after that. They sat in the tree together in a comfortable silence and before long the bell was ringing once more.

***

The walk home from school wasn’t exactly awkward, but the silence had long since stopped being comfortable.

Alex hadn’t said anything to him since recess earlier and so Harry was a bit startled when they reached her house and she did speak.

“Do you wanna come in?” she asked him softly.

Harry shook his head. He was a little surprised she offered, and it made him feel a bit warmer inside as he had been starting to wonder if maybe she realized that day what a loser he was and didn’t want to be his friend anymore. But this was a question that she asked him every day and his response was always the same. “No, sorry. I gotta do my chores.”

She nodded and stared at the tenth house for a moment. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She left him and went into her house, closing the door behind her gently. Harry stood there for a moment staring at where she had been before making his way to the Dursleys.

***

The next day they were sitting in the tree once more, silently agreeing not to chance the playground again, when she handed him something.

Harry looked down to find a sketchbook and a pack of Crayola colored pencils. He looked up at Alex, confused. She rolled her eyes.

“Draw, silly.”

And so he did.

His first attempt at creating a cartoonish dog with big floppy ears was messy at best, and he wondered why he started with an animal he hated so much in the first place. Aunt Marge’s dog Ripper was the only one he had ever spent time with and there weren't all that many things he despised more than that dog.

But it still felt really nice to move the colored pencils across the crisp white paper, and Harry felt that he could now answer the question Alex had asked yesterday with a Yes, I draw.

Alex, as it turned out, also drew. Very well, in fact. Harry found himself feeling quite a bit astonished looking at her sketchbook, something that she obviously spent a lot of time filling up. She was currently sketching a large oak tree, and if Harry squinted his eyes he could make out two children sitting on the branches.

“Is that us?” asked Harry, pointing at the figures. Alex nodded and continued to sketch. She adjusted her position on the branch, eyes still focused on her work and her skirt rode up a bit, revealing a bruise on her thigh. It seemed a bit swollen and-

Harry quickly averted his eyes. How incredibly rude and pig-like of him to even be looking. Even if it was a curious injury in a curious place.

***

“Can you come in?”

Harry sighed. This daily ritual was getting tiresome. “No, I’m sorry, but you know that I have to do my chores. Besides, I’d have to ask permission to come inside and I don’t think the Dursleys would like to know that I have a friend.”

Alex looked at her feet. “Just tell them… tell them you need tutoring. Tell them that our teacher says that I have to tutor you.”

“You tutor me?” Harry scoffed. Sure, he wasn’t exactly student of the year, but his grades certainly weren’t a true assessment of his intelligence. Sometimes you just had to backwards cheat on tests in order to appear dumber than your cousin. But Alex and he both knew that he was far from needing a tutor, and even if he did, she definitely wouldn’t be the best option for one.

“I know, I know,” Alex started quickly, “but they think that you’re, like, stupid or something, right? They want to think little of you, so the best way to get them to say yes is to make them think even less… if they knew that you were going to have fun, they wouldn’t let you come.”

Well. That really wasn’t such a terrible plan. “Mmm. I suppose you’re right…”

“Just try it, please?” Alex slipped her backpack off of her shoulder and unzipped it, taking out her sketchbook. She carefully tore out the most recent page, the one she had been working on at recess a few days prior, and handed it to him.

It was a truly stunning drawing, taking into account that the artist was only eight years old. Harry’s friend was certainly talented. He had seen the beginning sketch, but she had added so much detail to it since then. The two of them sat side by side on the tree trunk just as they did in real life. The other kids on the playground looked like ants compared to them. Dudley was throwing rocks up at them but his aim was lousy and the stones had no chance of hitting them.

“Okay, fine… but why do you want me to come over so bad?”

“I just… I do…”

“Sound reasoning.”

***

“Your girlfriend wants to tutor you?” Dudley sneered.

“You have a girlfriend?” Aunt Petunia sniffed.

“I’m eight years old, what do you think?” Harry asked sarcastically. Uncle Vernon had not yet made it home from his job at Grunnings and so he felt a bit safer just then than perhaps he should.

“What subject do you need tutoring in? All of them, I’m sure, but I’m assuming there’s one in particular,” said Aunt Petunia.

He really should have come up with an answer beforehand, but Harry was capable of coming up with a lie on the spot. “Erm, maths.” That was definitely the worst one on his report card as it was the easiest subject to mess up. And he knew that it was one that Aunt Petunia wasn’t willing to help even Dudley with, so he was in no danger of having her as a substitute tutor.

“I think they just call it math where she’s from. You should know, Mum, he’s likely to start talking like a regular ole’ country bumpkin if he’s allowed to spend much more time with that girl,” Dudley said in the absolute worst imitation of a southern accent Harry had ever heard. But then, Dudley had a pretty horrible voice in general. It made Harry vividly reminiscent of a nails on chalkboard sensation.

He supposed that was one trait his cousin had inherited from Aunt Petunia.

“I don’t even want to be tutored, but the teacher says I have to!” Harry exclaimed, figuring that he might as well lay it on thick and praying that Dudley wouldn’t smarten up and ask the teacher if this was actually true. Surely if Aunt Petunia thought he didn’t want this, she would force it on him. “She’s tired of having to explain everything to me twice and knows that Alexandra is our neighbor.”

Aunt Petunia sighed heavily. “I haven’t even met this girl’s parents yet, the last thing we need is you making a bad impression on us.”

“She only lives with her stepfather, and he probably won’t even be there,” Harry pleaded.

“Ah, one of those families, if you can even call it that,” Aunt Petunia sniffed again in her snotty little way. “Very well, you may go tomorrow, but you better be sure to get back here in time to do your chores.”

“Of course, Aunt Petunia. Thank you.”

“And don’t you dare do anything freaky!” she added and Harry nodded quickly in agreement.

Weird things often happened around Harry, but it wasn’t as those he caused them to happen on purpose, honestly! Well, most of the time, anyway… But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Alex about that anytime soon, not if he could help it. It was quite nice having someone around who didn’t absolutely despise the sight of him and he wasn’t looking to scare her off by informing him of his little… issue.

Dudley stuck his tongue out at him like the immature little… like the big fat prat he was, and Harry began to zone out as he heard Uncle Vernon’s car pulling into the driveway.

***

“Would you like some tea?”

Harry shifted awkwardly in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. Uncle Vernon hadn’t made any objections to Harry being here, (not that Harry could remember, anyway) but he still felt distinctly strange and out of place being at a friend’s house.

“Sure…”

A cup was placed in front of Harry far quicker than he would have expected. And a plastic cup at that. With… ice?

Alex took a dark blue plastic pitcher out of the refrigerator and proceeded to pour the brown liquid it contained into the cup.

Harry stared.

Alex looked up and saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“It… what is that?”

“Oh!” said Alex, cheeks turning pink. “I- I forgot, it’s different here, I can’t believe I forgot such an obvious cultural difference…”

“You mean this is tea?” Harry asked doubtfully, sniffing the sticky substance.

“Yes, it is! We don’t drink hot tea where I’m from, I can’t imagine it really…”

“That’s… weird,” said Harry.

“No it isn’t!” Alex defended. “It- just try it!”

“I’m not drinking that!”

“Come on, Harry, honestly it’s really good!”

Harry sighed dramatically and pulled the cup towards him. It wasn’t as if he had drunk a lot of tea in his life, but he’d never even heard of it being served cold. And with ice…

“Oh, wait!” Alex stopped him from pressing the cup against his lips, and she went back over to the fridge and took out a container. She opened it to reveal lemon slices. “We might as well do this properly.” She picked up one slice and squeezed lemon juice into the tea before dropping the whole thing in.

“You can not be serious,” Harry muttered, but by now he was committed to the cause. He took a swallow and made a face. “My God how much sugar did you put in this?”

“Uh, I think he just does two cups…”

“Two cups!? As in, two measuring cups?”

“Well, it is called sweet tea for a reason…”

“It’s a small wonder you’ve yet to expire due to heart disease if you’ve been drinking this your whole life.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that- oh, hey, Emerson.”

Harry looked up, startled to see a man standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He was… well, Aunt Petunia would have described him as dirty. Late thirties maybe, with long, messy brown hair. He was wearing a white tank top which allowed the numerous tattoos littering his arms to be on display.

“Alex. This your friend?” the man drawled lazily, coming over to stand by Alex, placing his hand on her shoulder. His eyes were focused on Harry, who squirmed at the silent assessment.

“Yes sir. We’re going to do our homework together,” Alex said softly. The man simply looked at her for a moment before nodding slightly.

“‘Aight. Behave yourselves.” And with that, he patted her cheek softly and exited the room. Nice to meet you, too. But Harry was used to people being rude to him, so it was hardly anything new.

“Where did he come from?” Harry questioned quietly once he was sure that the man was out of earshot. “I didn’t hear him come in or anything.”

“He was here the whole time,” muttered Alex. “Just asleep.”

“Oh…” well that wasn’t creepy in the least. Harry would have really appreciated a warning.

And he would have said so, if not for the look on Alex’s face. She seemed extremely uncomfortable in her own home and Harry decided to just keep his mouth shut. He instead pulled his homework out of his bag and spread it across the counter. It took a minute or two, but Alex soon sat down on the stool beside him.

***

Harry had always had a bit of a problem with memory lapses, for as long as he could (haha) remember, anyway.

But he seemed to be… blacking out, a bit more, lately.

He could remember walking home from school with Alex and going in her house every day, as was the new routine, but he couldn’t seem to recall the things that occurred once he arrived back at the Dursleys. Every morning he woke up in the cupboard under the stairs with no memory of the night before. And then he went to school as always. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The weekends simply seemed like part of a fever dream.

Logically, he knew that there was a reason behind this odd little habit of his, especially taking into account the unexplainable bruises he sometimes noticed on his body, but he really didn’t like to think about the implications of all that.

So he didn’t.

***

“These are my father’s records,” Alex said, slipping one out of its paper sleeve. “Or so I’m told. I never met him, exactly.”

“Did he die?” Harry asked, feeling bad for her. He certainly knew what it was like to be missing a father. And a mother. And pretty much everything else that normal kids had.

Alex shrugged. “No clue. I’m under the impression that he took off when he found out my mom was pregnant with me.”

“Oh,” Harry said, feeling awkward now. That happened so often lately. He’d never really talked to many people before he started spending so much time with Alex, and it was great but it still caused some social anxiety for him. “I, um. I don’t even know my parents' names.”

“You don’t? Even I know my dad’s name, the first one anyway, Steve. My mom has used it in sentences with some other choice words.”

Harry laughed, not completely sure if he should. Alex seemed pretty lighthearted talking about this which made Harry feel a bit more comfortable sharing his own family woes with her. “No. I haven’t seen a picture of them or anything like that, either.”

“Wow,” Alex said, biting her lip. “That’s odd. What happened to them?”

“Car accident. That's where I got this, when I was a year old,” Harry said, brushing his fringe to the side and revealing the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

“Woah,” Alex murmured, reaching a hand out as if to touch it but drawing back suddenly. “That must be really awful, I’m sorry. At least my mom is still alive.”

“What happened to her?” Harry asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what was and wasn’t a sore subject with Alex. Sometimes she seemed like such an open book but other times it would slam shut just as soon as he started to read it.

“She… she’s in rehab. Drugs,” Alex said, sighing. “That’s why Dumbass and I moved here. She’s at a recovery center in London.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated for a second before offering, “My mum and dad were drunks. That’s what caused the car crash. It sucks.”

“It does. It… it just hurts to know that your parent chose their addiction over you.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again, not sure if he was saying it just to her or to both of them, and wondering why he was the one apologizing when their parents should have been. Well, Harry’s were dead so he supposed that someone had to do it for them.

“Yeah, me too,” muttered Alex. “Anyway, the Beatles. Can’t believe you haven’t heard them before.” She gently placed the record on the player and it started to spin around and around, emitting a soothing tune.

Here come old flat top, he come grooving up slowly

Harry laid down on the carpet beside Alex and closed his eyes, soothed by the sound of rock n’ roll or whatever this was. He probably had heard this song before, somewhere, but it was a lot different of a feeling sitting there listening to it with… with his best friend.

There were still a lot of problems in their little world but for perhaps the first time in his life, he felt a sense of… something fuzzy warming his insides. Contentment? Happiness?

Something he hadn’t ever experienced before, anyway.

***

Life fell into a bit of a comfortable pattern. There were a few more uncomfortable moments involving Alex’s stepfather, but for the most part, things were great.

The Dursleys were as miserable as always, but school was better. Harry stopped riding to school with Aunt Petunia and Dudley, and started walking with Alex. It was a bit cold as Harry didn’t have a proper winter coat, but spending more time in Alex’s company was much preferred to that of Aunt Petunia and Dudley. And the Dursleys were of course happy to see as little of him as possible.

Harry was even able to score better on his math tests due to Alex’s supposed tutoring, and his relatives couldn’t really get upset that he was outperforming their son because the teacher had insisted on the tutoring.

One day in early spring, a police officer visited the school to talk to them about stranger danger and the like. They had these kinds of visits from a bobby every year and Harry wondered how long it took for the don’t accept candy from strangers message to sink in. How dense did adults think they were? Or were the other children truly that idiotic?

The annual talk was a bit different than usual though.

“I wish I could just tell you to steer clear of strangers and have everything be okay. That your guardians will always protect you from threatening situations. But it’s becoming startlingly evident that sometimes the biggest dangers come from within the home, with people you know rather than strangers. People you trust.”

The bobby looked intently at the students from the front of the room, and Harry struggled to keep himself from squirming in his seat.

“You’re all so young, and this is not an easy thing to talk about but I believe that it is necessary. Sometimes it can be difficult to understand that you are in an abusive situation, or that one of your friends might be. Even if everything is okay for you at home, that’s often not the case for everyone.

“Abuse comes in many forms, be it physical, emotional, sexual, it is all abuse. I’m going to pass out sheets explaining more about abuse, and warning signs to look out for in your friends. I hope that you will equip yourselves with the knowledge to be able to recognize the signs of domestic violence.”

The officer picked up a stack of papers off the teacher’s desk and began to pass them around to everyone in the classroom.

“Do their guardians seem strange or make you feel uncomfortable?” he continued talking as he handed out the sheets, “Does it seem like your friend is hiding things from you? Do they have odd injuries? Doesn’t seem like they want to go home? Wants you around or pushes you away?”

The man gave Harry a kind smile as he placed a sheet on his desk, then turned away not to look anyone directly in the eye. “I’m not trying to scare you with all of this. But we live in a scary world, and it’s better to be prepared should frightening situations arise, yes?” Quiet murmurings of agreement could be heard throughout the classroom.

Sometimes, when Harry was doing his homework, he would come across some really difficult questions, questions that the answers did not come easily for. Even if he didn’t write the answers down correctly on the assignments, he still liked to know them for himself. He would think and think, trying to come up with a solution to the science question. Then there were some questions that he knew that he knew the answer to, but it took a while to remember, like for history questions. The maths questions were usually pretty easy, though. There was always one answer, and it was always the same. He almost didn’t even have to think about it, he just saw the numbers and knew.

As Harry stared down at the blurry yet somehow extremely clear words of the safety guidelines on his desk, he was not focusing on the space for emotional abuse, nor the one for physical abuse… It was something of a mix of a really difficult question and a really easy one. The knowledge was right there staring him in the face, but it was still somehow difficult to answer.

Slowly, he brought his face up and looked to his side, meeting Alex’s eyes. Seeing the glassy quality of the blue, he had a startling realization. It was hardly even a question, now. He knew.

***

“I do have a cassette player, you know.”

The boy flinched violently at the sudden sound of his voice, and Severus felt a bit bad for startling him. But this tiptoeing around in his own home was getting ridiculous.

Harry quickly recovered from his surprise and looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, so Severus continued.

“I admit, I’m not all that certain as to how it works, but… it’s there, under the television.” He nodded over to the general area. He then walked out of the living room (Harry’s eyes keeping track of him all the while) and over to the kitchen, keeping an eye on his ward through the doorway.

Harry then stared down at the item in his hands for a long moment before standing up slowly from his place on the sofa. He wavered before kneeling down in front of the television, in front of the cassette deck.

Severus had never used it, had never really even thought about it. It was just there. Just another Mugglish item in his father’s Mugglish house. He had thrown most things that belonged to his father away, only keeping the television because well, Muggles did have at least one good invention. Severus didn’t care for the cassette deck one way or another, but he let it be and it remained there under the telly, collecting dust.

Perhaps Muggles had more than one good invention, though, he thought as the device clicked and a soothing tune emitted through the speakers and spread throughout the house.

Here come old flat top, he come grooving up slowly

The Beatles. Severus could recognize them, even if he didn’t seek them (or any music, really) out. He couldn’t very well grow up in a Muggle neighborhood in the 60s and 70s and not know who the Beatles were. He couldn’t grow up with Lily and not know who the Beatles were.

Severus’ charge remained in front of the cassette tape, sitting cross-legged on the floor now rather than kneeling before it. He seemed lost in his own little world, but not in the usual way. Somehow he seemed more present in this world right now than he had seemed in weeks.

He seemed to be at peace, a faint smile appearing on his face even as the tears trailed down his cheeks and his lower lip trembled. It was as though he was taking his first breath of air after a long period of time spent being held underwater.

Severus let him be. Hm, a bit of a Beatles reference.