Chapter One: Nasty Rashes and Mood Swings
I do not own Harry Potter or anything in relation to the books. Hell I'm not even going to say the plot is mine! Just remember I'm a poor college student who lives of her parents and makes minimum wage at a low class job. I've got nothing you would want so don't sue!
This is something new for me. Unfortunately, I have not tried to write fan fiction several years, and now that I look back on my other pieces I have no desire to finish them. I also forgot the point of those stories. This story is the first Harry Potter fiction I have ever written. This is not beta patient eventually I'm going to go back over it, but for now I just want my ideas on paper. Also I have been told my writing is confusing but comes together at the end. I love reviews and positive criticism. Flames are funny and I laugh at their creator's ignorance. OH by the way this is SLASH! D/H Remember that cause sparks fly in the first few chapters.
I hope you enjoy this. R&R!
Green eyes stared back though a pale face with something that could only be classified as fear. A boy no more that sixteen years watched in awe as an equally pale hand traced foreign particles that had formed seemingly overnight over his sharp cheek bones. It had begun as an insatiable itch just a couple days before his birthday, over time it had gotten sore and red, bringing color to his face in a most painful way. No amount of medicine or ointment had cleared it up. When the rash; for that's what Aunt Petunia had called it; blistered, he had been locked in his room. The Dursleys didn't want the neighbors to see him. This, however, didn't stop the rumors about the freakish, orphan delinquent; who according to Dudley and his gang; had gotten Herpes.
The blisters had been disgusting, painful and itchy. They had originally covered a large portion of his cheek bones, and more than once he had popped one while trying to alleviate that ever present itch. They had lasted over the first two weeks of August. He had thought of contacting Hermione; and even Ron in his desperation; but then he remembered they were at headquarters and the wards didn't allow for owl post.
This had been troubling for him. Not only could he not contact anyone if he wanted to, but neither could he call for help if the situation warranted it. It was these thoughts that kept him sane until the third week of august he woke up with small encrusted lines where the blisters used to be. The itch was gone, the soreness was gone, and now in its place were what looked to be small, three inch long, sideways, checkmarks. His complexion mostly cured, the green eyed boy was happy and stopped worrying. He was still locked in his room, but now everything seemed alright. His guard went down way to soon…
The last week in August came, and like every year the emerald eyed youth was in a rush to leave. His trunk was packed with his newly acquired, birthday gifts and all the school supplies Remus and Sirius had sent a few days back. All he had to do was wait until Friday, September first came.
That day came a bit quicker than expected. At no less than 6 o' clock in the morning Uncle Vernon had wrenched open his door and told his to be down stairs in thirty minutes. Even in his sleep befuddled mind the boy could clearly see his uncle's "safety wear." Dressed in lightning blue, elbow high, rubber gloves, a surgeon's mask, and protective goggles; emerald eyes sparkled in barely restrained mirth. Upon arriving down stairs, trunk in hand, he couldn't help notice his aunts matching outfit, as she pushed him out the door. The car was decked out in the same style décor as plastic covered everything and anything with in arms reach. Vernon drove him down to the station in half the time it would have normally took. As he was shoved out of the door, he was tossed an apple and told in no uncertain terms how much of a freak he was, and that unless his freaky friends could cure him he was not welcomed back at Privet drive. The car drove off then and he couldn't help but feel a little pain at his family's rejection of him. This was his life though. No love for Harry.
He still had a little over four hours, so he decided to wash up in the public bathroom, best he could. They were fairly nice bathrooms with a white and blue décor. Still dragging his trunk the boy went up to the sink and froze. That's where he was now. The crusty scabs had faded away and in their place were two dark steel blue streaks. They began about an inch under each eye for a little more than three inches, and then streaked down slightly; following the contours of his jaw line. The streaks were soft to the touch and felt like leather. They were not lumps but actually fused into his surrounding pale skin.
What was wrong with him? This; while being much nicer than the pain he'd endured in the weeks prior; was most defiantly not normal! No one could see these… deformities, at least not until he'd spoken to 'mione and probably Pomfrey.
Harry banged his head on the mirror, closing his eyes not wishing to look into his nor at the markings which now occupied it. The bathroom door opened and a rush of males came in, but Harry paid no heed preferring to remain in his positions even at the incontinence of others. He knew his thoughts were selfish and a little vain, but after all he'd been through… all his selfless acts; he deserved to be once every blue moon.
He sighed, not realizing the man who'd come up to the sink next to him, nor that the man in question was giving him worrying looks.
"Hey lad," the older man said, "What seems to be the problem with ya? I haven't seen someone looking so forlorn since I told m' girl that we should see other people." he smiled a bit, and Harry looked at him through the mirror.
"I'm a freak of nature that's what's wrong." Harry replied in a sunken voice, while turing to look at his addresser.
"Now I don' believe that. Look at ya, you're a fine specimen of male. Your birthmarks don' do anything to ya except bring out your eyes!" Harry looked at him with a skeptical gaze. "Don' worry lad. So enough you'll grow to accept yourself an' then you'll be able to see what everyone else sees. Now why don' I buy ya a drink! You mighty pale a hot beverage is just what a feller like you needs."
"No I really can't I have a train to catch in…" Harry looked at his watch," an hour."
"Nonsense, it won't take but a few minutes and then you can be on your way." The man smiled widely and went to steer Harry out of the toilets. His hand came down gently on Harry's scrawny shoulder and pushed ever so slightly. It wasn't much; an innocent touch, warmed with good intentions; but something stirred with in Harry something uncontrollable. Fear peaked to a previously unknown level, and Harry violently jerked away from the man and his touch.
"Don't! He cried.
"I don' mean any harm. If you don' want to go that bad at least allow me to help ya with your trunk."
"Just leave me alone!" He was shaking now, with his arms wrapped around his body and the over sized long-sleeved shirt that adorned it.
"Lad? Are you okay?"
"Back off!" Harry yelled and with out a backward glance ran from the restrooms and into the crowded station beyond. He wasn't watching where he was going and barely registered the fact he was 45 minutes early on the train to Hogwarts.
He staggered through the train cars knowing not where he was, but only where he didn't want to be. He passed by his usual compartment, the gaggling early birds making their way to a compartment, the baggage compartment, and finally into the creature hold where stopped. It was loud and smelly, but these things calmed him down enough to make him stop running. Looking around he spotted a corner that wasn't visible from the doors. It was here that he sat; to exhausted to do anything else; and fell asleep.