The Meaning Of Love
A Harry Potter/Queer As Folk Story
Author Note/Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter; the creative and awesome writer J.K. Rowling created the novels. CowLip, Showtimes and Paramount own Queer As Folk.
In 1971, Brian Kinney is born into the world to Joan and Jack Kinney. He has six older siblings, Jonathan (11 yrs older - Born. 1960), Ashton & Serena (8 yrs older - Born. 1963), Lily (6 yrs older - Born. 1965), Charlotte & Charles (5 yrs. older - Born. 1966) and Claire (4 yrs. older - Born. 1967). Brian spends most of his childhood being abused by his parents and tends to stay at his best friends or other friends houses, away from his parents, whenever he can.
Harry Potter was born 1983. The Harry Potter series takes place 1994 to 2001. Lily Potter nee. Evans (Kinney) was born 1965; she would be eighteen when she had Harry. And would have died when she was nineteen. Everyone else was born a few years later than in the original timeline. Any other questions will be answered if you send a message to me.
Summary: After the death of his big sister, Brian Kinney continues to fight for custody of his nephew Harry Potter, but is always turned down. Years later Harry searches for his Uncle and finds him. He learns that family doesn't always have to be about blood.
Pairings: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor, Melanie Marcus/Lindsay Peterson, Michael Novotny/Ben Buckner, Debbie Novotny/Carl Horvath, Ted Schmidt/Blaze Wyzecki and Emmett Honeycutt/Calvin Colpepper (Many of these pairings won't appear until later on in the story)
Setting(s): Harry Potter books take place during the third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh book and Queer As Folk is from all seasons.
Rating: NC-17 or M at times
Warnings (Including but not limited to): Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (maybe), Alcohol Use, Mention/Show of Martial Abuse, Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Drug Use, Mention of Drug Use, Suicide, Rape, Nudity, Fights, ect.
By: Stone Sour
Wish I was too dead to cry
My self-affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater
You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason;
My flaws are open season
For this, I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie hides my face
With its memories
With cryptic entries
And you don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on,
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
You don't need to bother;
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on:
I'll never live down my deceit
31st October 1989
The figure stood silently upon the edge of the towering building. Hazel eyes looked out across the flickering lights of Pittsburgh. A burning cigarette hung between his pointer and middle finger. A chain white mist of smoke floated in a wave like pattern with the cold breeze of air, disappearing into the starless sky. A silent sigh escaped pink lips as eyelids fluttered close and the head of the young nineteen-year-old faced the sky as the wind fluttered past, ruffling his clothes.
Brian Kinney noiselessly adjusted his weight on his feet. Raising the burning cigarette to his lips he took another drag and slowly released the smoke through his nose as he lowered his head and looked out across the busy city. The hand holding his cigarette swayed with the wind at his side as he silently lost himself in thoughts of memories long since forgotten. "I thought I'd fine you up here." Michael Novotny stepped through the bland metal doorway of the large buildings stairway. Many of Brian's friends and their families used it for holiday parties, this one just happened to be a Halloween party. Brian glanced over his shoulder, quirked an eyebrow and let a small smirk grace his luscious lips.
"Aren't I always up here around this time?" He retorted dryly. Every year since he was thirteen he spent his days up on the roof of some type of building, staring out over the city of Pittsburgh. It was the day of his older sister's and her husband's death and the day his godson and nephew was taken from him. Little Harry had not been able to be placed in his other godfathers care, as he was the traitorous bastard that led to Brian's sister's death and destroying Harry's chance at a normal childhood. It also didn't help that Brian had been too young, only thirteen at the time when his sister was murdered. Even now, at nineteen-years-old the old bastard and their stupid government weren't letting him acquire guardianship of his nephew and godson. He could feel his anger bubbling in his blood, just barely hidden beneath the surface at the thought of them again.
"You should just let it go." Michael stated as he walked across the building's rooftop and stood beside his best friend on the ledge of the building. Who he was coincidentally in love with, had been for years. Not that he would ever tell Brian that. "I mean, you can live the life you want, continue going to college, sleep with all the guys you want, or girls if you want to, and enjoy life." He continued, oblivious to his friends bubbling anger at his words.
A dark look flashed over Brian's handsome visage at his best friends statement. Did he really think so lowly about him? "No, Mikey. I promised Lily I'd take care of her son and I'm breaking that promise because I don't have him with me." He spoke firmly as his hazel eyes took a glance at his best friend. Raising his hand he took another drag from his cigarette before releasing the gray smoke from his lungs, causing a swirl of smoke to disappear with the wind. The soothing feeling of smoke and nicotine encasing his lungs was a relaxation he had acquired at twelve. It had been an annoyance for his older sister who, unsuccessfully, had tried to break him of his "horrible habit" as Lily called it.
"There's not much you can do now." Michael said as his hands tapped on his leg, looking away from the cold eyes of his best friend. He wasn't use to that look being set upon him. It unnerved him to see Brian's eyes so cold.
"If you say so." Brian spoke in a sardonic voice as he gazed back up at the night sky. "Don't you have better things to do Mikey?" His voice broke the silence between the two friends. The noise of Pittsburgh nightlife was clear to the two young adults that stood in silence, one enjoying the cold fall air while the other fought the urge to shiver at the ice biting wind.
"I was worried about you." The reply made a grimace, unseen by Michael, cross Brian's face. It always made the slightly younger male uncomfortable about his friend's too caring attitude for him. He knew his best friend was in love with him and that was what made him so discomforted when he said something like that.
"No need. I'm fine." He was always fine when in truth he wasn't. But he wasn't one to whine and bitch about his problems. If he wanted someone to know about his 'issues' he'd tell them. Until then, his friends usually knew not to bug him about what he was feeling, well, almost all of them did. Michael tended to persistently ask him until Brian snapped. "Look, Mikey," He began, cutting his friend off before he began to speak again. "Why don't you go back inside and I'll meet you in there in a little while." Michael knew a dismissal when he heard one. With a sigh, the slightly older male nodded his head and gave Brian's shoulder a squeeze before pulling away and disappearing back into the stairway of the building.
"I'm sorry Lily. I tried. I really did. I'll keep going, but I doubt I'll be able to get very far." Brian murmured to himself. His cigarette was nearly depleted as he took one last drag before tossing it over the edge of the building. Hazel eyes watched silently as the bud of the cigarette fluttered through the air, before disappearing from sight.
It would be years before he ever saw his nephew and godson again.
9th August 1994
11th June 1984
I'm not much into sentimental crap as you are well informed on. This is just another latest update. I was preoccupied the last few weeks and so I was unable to send you a letter.
I can still remember how I use to tell you how much I hated the idea of love. I could recall you telling me constantly it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. You were the one that told me that love wasn't all bad. Even after you discovered when you were eleven that you were put up for adoption, given away because our parents thought you some demon because of the unexplainable things you did as a baby. I remember we met when I was nine and you were thirteen and had traveled all the way to Pittsburgh to meet us. You never got to meet them seeing as they wanted nothing to do with you. You only got to meet me but you told me you never regretted meeting me and I'm glad. I never regretted meeting you either...
You always told me I should be willing to open up to the idea of love. I have always been positive that love wasn't worth it. Lily, my sister, I've finally realized why my best friend, Michael, always has this hurt and saddened look in his eyes. Ever since you described to me what it feels like not to have someone love you in return...
My best friend is in love with me but I can never love him as he wants me too. I know he wishes I did, but I can't lie to him and tell him I love him the same way as he wishes I would. I'd only break his heart more. He's my best friend, a brother. Nothing more, nothing less.
I need my big sister's insight, Lily. You were always the 'expert' in love. Should I tell him the truth? Or should I just ignore it? I'm leaning towards ignoring it. If I don't acknowledge it, I can't hurt him.
I have learned the hard way what love can do to you, and I never wanted that feeling. As I grew older, I came out of my naivety...if I ever had it in the first place. I began my no love no relationship policy after living in the house of Joan and Jack. While you, Lily, continued to wish for that love that your adoptive parents have. I'm glad you finally found it. James seemed like a nice guy, and your son, my nephew and godson, was adorable and looked a lot like you and James, and had a bit of Kinney genes in him, from the last time I saw him. He seemed to take a liking to me, but everyone does, who wouldn't?
21st July 1984
I've been having this horrible feeling in my gut. I feel like something may happen to you. I just hope it doesn't. You're worth so much to me, as difficult as that is to admit, I've learned never to show emotion. It makes you weak, but for you, I'm willing to admit it. The idea of something horrible happening to you is sickening. I just pray something doesn't. If there is a God and he protects you, I'll believe in him. But I don't think I could if something does happen to you...
The world is a horrible place Lily. We're just part of that. And maybe I'm one of those horrible things too.
I suppose I am a horrible thing in this world. I can't stand these dreams I've been having lately. It's flashes of a fight between James and a cloaked man, he's yelling at you, I'm assuming he's telling you to run and take little Harry. The next flash you're running upstairs and into the nursery of your son's room. Protecting him, defending him, against a man that looks rather handsome. The two of you are arguing before there's a flash of green light and you fall with a scream in front of Harry's crib. The next flash is the cloaked man standing before your son and he's talking but I can't hear him. Then the next thing I see is a green flash of light and it just...rebounds back off of little Harry and then there's a sudden scream of pain.
I always awaken with sweat dripping down my face, my breathing rapid and tears falling from my eyes. I've had this dream for the last few months. That horrible scream still rings in my ears and that dream still haunts me at night. I've taken to new extremes to make myself forget this nightmare. You wouldn't be happy with me if you ever found out what 'extremes' I've taken.
It's rather odd now that I think of it Lily, I've always had strange dreams like this nightmare, ever since I was a child. They're always horrible and tragic, never happy and I can never figure out why.
I can remember when I was eleven and you were fifteen and you asked me if I would ever find happiness. Do you remember what I said Lily? I can still. I remember telling you that I'm happy with you every summer we see each other. I can still recall the promise we made to each other, and it still remains true. I will always be there for you Lily, no matter what it is. Whether it is to protect you or your family or raising little Harry, should anything happen to you and James. I'll do anything I can.
31st August 1984
I can remember when I was nine and you were fifteen, you had asked me if I would ever find happiness. I had told you I had, but never for what reason. It was always you that brought me happiness Lily. You were the only one that had not abandoned me, not purposely. You never left me to the ones I have to call 'parents'. You were the big sister, the older sibling I should have had, one that should have been willing to watch over me, protect me from the evil that was my parents. We had promised each other the day before you left to head home that we would always watch out for each other and those we cared for and that still remains true to me. I will do whatever I can to protect you and yours, no matter the cost. You're my sister, and the only one in my fucked up family I actually give a damn about.
Just promise me that you will watch yourself Lily. That nightmare continues to happen, and I can't stop this sinking feeling in my stomach and the gut feeling that tells me to take you and your family and run, hide you as far away from England as possible.
Just be careful Lily. You're all I have left.
I can't lose you. I don't know what will happen if I do.
19th September 1984
I did as you asked and tried for a 'relationship' from the last time we talked over the phone. I can't really say that it ended well. My only relationship at only thirteen and it will never happen again. Love, it's a waste and not worth the heartbreak. Who would have figured that I would know what 'heartbreak' is? But never again shall I try and give one another shot. It's not worth the headaches.
You know, I actually thought he would be worth the time and energy. Wasn't that a punch in the face when I discovered, at a Homecoming Dance, the guy I was with showed how much he actually cared for me? Which wasn't much, but I had always hoped he had been the one for me. That maybe he actually truly cared for me. I should have suspected something. I always had that nagging voice whisper in the back of my mind that he wasn't what I thought he was.
Fucking asshole. Figured he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Not surprising really.
I should have trusted my judgment and my friends. But I've wanted to give it a try for you Lily. Now don't go thinking I'm trying to make you feel guilty. I'm rather over the whole shit. It was a one time thing and rather mundane. Who knew relationships were boring?
It was a whole fucking waste of time. After that I went through that whole, 'I hate the world and everyone else' stage. I may have felt a little bad for being such an asshole to you, but it happens. I think I made those six months the worst months of their lives. It pleased me greatly, even if it pissed off Jack more than anything. It was rather worth all the pain and suffering I went through.
That 'relationship' did show me one thing, trying to get 'love' from someone is just as unreliable as my parents. I never received true love from them either. The only true 'love' I've ever known was from you and my friends.
But love in the conventional sense, the relationship type, is something I won't touch with a ten-foot pole again. Love is a hard thing to trust now a day's. Just like 'Sorry' is. Sorry is as overrated as 'Love' is, everyone says 'Oh, I'm so sorry' or 'Sorry, forgive me?'. Or they say 'I love you' or 'I love you too'. Fuck them and fuck love. Sorry is bullshit. Sorry's aren't worth anything, just like love isn't. Everyone says Sorry or I Love You. It's a word constantly used.
I've been in this angry mood lately. The nightmares are persistent as ever; even with my new extremes of ignoring these nightmares they still find some way to get through.
Be careful Lily. This feeling has been getting worst.
25th October 1984
You're probably wondering why I'm writing this to you a few days before Halloween. Well, I figured one last letter before I have to leave Pittsburgh for some 'family' thing the parents want to deal with and are dragging me with them. I just wanted to tell you and remind you how much I care about you. You're my best friend, my big sister and at one time or another, you had wanted to kidnap me and take me back to England with you.
I sometimes wish you did. Here it seems someone always blames me for some bullshit or another that happens between Mikey and I. Whenever he gets hurt unintentionally or intentionally, I was automatically blamed. Go figure. I got over if years ago, after the day my bitch of a grandmother died. Michael had gotten hurt a day after by falling out of a tree house his Uncle had built him.
I suppose I should tell you about the day my grandmother died, you've always asked, but I never told. I didn't feel the need, and still don't. But as my final 'later', I figured you deserve it.
I was around seven when my parents, siblings and I had to go to the hospital. My grandmother was sick with a severe case of pneumonia and was slowly dying. It was painful for everyone to deal with, well, except for me. She was a mean old hag, and no Lily! I don't give a damn about speaking ill of the dead, she was cruel and seemed to adore my other siblings except for me. Well, anyways, I knew something was wrong with her. I never really asked what was wrong with my grandmother. My siblings had been so depressed and I didn't want to make them start crying or anything. Even as a child I was uncomfortable with large display of emotions.
I remember sitting silently on the hospital chair out in the hall, waiting until the final minutes were my grandmother finally went on to join my grandfather. I could remember counting the minutes down, just waiting until we got out of that hospital.
As I sat on the uncomfortable chair of Saint Mary's Hospital my parents (since you don't see them as your parents) had remained in my grandmother's room, spending it with her until her last moments. My grandfather had died a few months earlier from lung cancer. My grandmother had gotten sicker a few weeks after my grandfather had died.
I remember my 'father' telling me that my grandmother was going to go to a better place. For a seven year old, I remember being rather emotionless about my grandmother dying. She hadn't been the nicest woman as you have probably realize, but neither were my parents.
Anyways, after my grandmother's death, my parents became much crueler and far greedier. They had all this money and no reason to work anymore. Lucky them! My siblings got out while they could, leaving me to deal with such loving parents. Fucking assholes.
Like they'd ever work a day in their life. It's completely laughable that notion. I just hope they never find out I'm gay. Do you know what he would do to me, or what she would do? She already spouts off this bullshit about God and whatever, you gives a shit?
The only reason we were ever rich was because of the inheritance my mother received from my grandmother and the inheritance my father received. You know all about them being worthless drunks and religious fanatics and addicted to certain unfavorable things, as your parents called them.
Anyways, I'm once again trailing off, and you already know this shit. You and your family are the ones that have been there for me since we first met when I was nine and you were thirteen. After you discovered about your adoption and just who your real parents were. Unfortunate for you, you got to see first hand just how 'loving' they are.
I'll be sure to send you more letters, if I can.
I hope you're okay Lily. You, James and little Harry are always on my mind. I'm sure I'll go gray before I'm eighteen with the rate on how much I worry about you. I'm always afraid one day I'll wake up and find out something happened to you.
Until next time, I'll be awaiting your letter reply.
9th August 1994
Twelve-year-old Harry Potter silently set the booklet filled with his mothers letter from her younger brother upon the uneven bed as he sat upon the cot he was sharing with Ron Weasley, one of his best friends. A soft whoosh escaped his lips at the news. He could feel anger at the thought of the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore keeping his Uncle from getting custody of him. If he had, Harry knew he would have been given a better life than what he had. And from what he read of these letters over the years his Uncle and Mother sent each other, his Uncle had a far worst childhood then he himself had. His stomach turned as his hands traced the neat cursive writing his Uncle had. For a twelve year old, he had amazing writing. Then again, from what Harry had learned in these letters, his Uncle had never really been a child, not like Harry had, which, he admitted, wasn't much better.
"What are you doing Harry?" The sudden voice of Hermione Granger caused the young twelve-year-old to give a startled jump and quickly turn to the doorway where his other best friend stood. Harry would admit he and Hermione got along better than he and Ron did. Harry had always been more interested in learning about this strange, new world he had been thrust in so suddenly a year ago.
"I was reading some letters from my mum and my Uncle." Harry stated. He waited for the confusion to set in for his brilliant friend.
"Why would your mum be writing to your Uncle Dursley?" Maybe not then. Harry sighed to himself and looked to his friend with a shake of his head.
"My mum was adopted, 'Mione. Lily Evans was actually born as Lily Kinney until she was given up and put up for adoption. So technically that so called 'protection' with the Dursley's doesn't even exist. It also seems I have more than just one Uncle. My Uncle Brian, the one I mentioned that was talking to my mum, he kept mentioning older siblings that "Got out of the house while they could", as my Uncle stated in one of his letters." The raven-haired teenager wiped his hands nervously on his torn jean pants. "I want to find him 'Mione. He promised my mum he'd take me in, no matter what, and I want to know why he suddenly gave up." Seeing the determination in her friends bright green eyes Hermione knew she would find no way out of it.
"So, let's begin and see if we come up with anything." Hermione said. Grabbing her friend's hand they quickly ran out of the room and downstairs. They'd ask Ron's brothers, Bill and Charlie, and see if they would be willing to help them go to Diagon Alley's Library.
They would soon realize that it would take them longer than just the summer to find Harry Potter's Uncle; it would take them almost a whole year.
3rd August 1995
Young Harry James Potter stood looking up at the dark and towering apartment building in Pittsburgh. It was surprisingly dark considering it was morning. His stomach turned and twisted at the notion that this was the first time he would be finally able to meet his Uncle and Godfather. His hands shook with nerves and his heart fluttered with anticipation. With sweaty hands, Harry slowly stepped up to the small box and pressed the small red button for a moment as he waited for the voice of his Uncle to speak. "Yeah?" The voice was husky and hoarse, as if he had just woken up.
"Uh - um - my name is Harry Potter." Harry replied nervously as he pressed the button on the intercom. "I'm your nephew and godson." Silence met his statement and for a moment Harry feared his Uncle was going to ignore him.
Brian couldn't believe it. Harry, his nephew, Lily's only son, his godson, was outside. He didn't know how that happened or why he was here, but the anticipation of seeing Harry as… god, he must be twelve-years-old. Jesus! Brian suddenly felt old; well, older than he already felt.
"Come on up, Harry." The reply made Harry breathe out easier and the sound of the door buzzing made Harry bounce on his feet with excitement. His Uncle's voice sounded softer than it had previously, there was something in his voice that Harry wanted to trust, and he didn't feel that very often.
His hands gripped his satchel tightly as he pulled the metal-glassed door open and stepped into the hallway. The flickering yellow lights of the hallway made Harry's stomach tighten. He was finally meeting his Uncle. Biting his lip Harry slowly walked down the hallway towards the elevator. Pushing the arrow that showed upward, the twelve-year-old gnawed on the bottom of his lip as he tried to calm his suddenly sick stomach. With a small 'ding' the doors to the elevator opened and Harry silently slid inside.
Pressing the fourth level that had his Uncle's apartment, he leaned against the elevator wall and fought his impatience. The door gave another 'ding' and Harry stepped out into the hallway. He passed a rather happy looking male, he had a rather goofy expression on his face. Harry felt his curiosity rise at the man's expression. Harry walked past the brown haired male, who looked to be in his early to late twenties. Harry quickly made his way to the metal sliding door of his Uncle's apartment and gave the bell a small ring. It felt like hours to Harry as he waited for the door to open, and when it did, he felt surprised at the handsome male standing on the other side. "Harry Potter." Brian Kinney stated. It wasn't a question, definitely a statement. He still couldn't believe Harry was here. Years ago he would have greeted him with open arms and loving hug, but that wasn't who he was any more. He wanted to be, for Harry, but he just couldn't, yet.
"Uh, hi… Uncle Brian." Harry replied nervously.
"Hi, come on in Harry." Brian stated. Uncle Brian, Brian thought, that would take some getting used to… or not; he had no interest in titles and societal norms. "And its just Brian, no need with formalities, never been one to follow them anyway." Stepping aside he allowed his nephew access to his apartment. He slid the metal door shut with a dull 'thunk' as he locked the door. He watched in slight amusement at the awed look on his godson and nephew's face as he gazed around his large loft.
"Wow." The twelve-year-old muttered with amazement.
"Nice isn't it?" Brian rhetorically questioned. Harry nodded anyways as he looked around the loft. His footsteps slapped against the dark wood flooring.
Harry knew enough not to mention how much money people made, but his Uncle must be rich. It was very impressive. Harry knew how much gold he had in Gringott's, but that didn't mean much out in the Muggle world. He would have given anything just have even a little of that wealth available when he was living with the Dursleys.
Brian stepped into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water. Walking back into the living room/family room he plopped down lazily on his leather couch and set the bottle of water down for Harry on the table, indicating with a wave of his hand that Harry should have a seat. Leaning back into the couch he looked at his nephew. "So, this is definitely a surprise. What are you doing here?" He inquired.
"I came looking for you, after reading your letters and my mums." Harry said softly as he walked silently over to the couch and took a hesitant seat.
"And you decided to look for me after that? How come?" Brian's hazel eyes glinted with curiosity as he watched his nephew's expressive eyes as he thought.
"I wanted to find you, needed to find you. I… well, when I'm with my friend's family, I feel… what I mean is…" Harry couldn't quite voice what he wanted to say.
"You feel like that's what you want, but you're an intruder, you don't belong, but you want to feel like you belong." Brian helped out; he knew that feeling, all too well.
Harry couldn't believe it, that's exactly what he felt. He nodded quickly. "Yeah, that's… that's what I felt. The way you wrote, those letters to my… mum" he kind of choked out, it was difficult to talk about his parents, "I was hoping you could take me in, like you were suppose to after my parents died." Harry replied. He played with the strings on the worn end of his t-shirt as he looked down at his lap.
This kid had guts, coming all the way from London to look for an Uncle in the hopes that he would be accepted. Talk about a risk, a risk that Brian didn't think he could do if their situations were reversed. "You know, I did try to take you in after your parents were murdered and even after that, until I was about twenty or twenty-one." Brian mused aloud. Harry's head snapped up at his Uncle's words.
"What?" Harry gasped out in surprise.
"Yep." Brian said, popping the 'p' in the word. "I tried to take you in but that old bastard and his lap dogs in the Ministry wouldn't let me. I tried for years, but they kept saying I was unfit, I wasn't magical enough, I wasn't old enough or I didn't have the things to take care of you." He gave a scoff. "Yeah, right. That old bastard just kept saying something about protection, but I'm your flesh and blood, not that stupid bitch Dursley."
Brian may not have been a full-blooded magical being like his older sister had been, but he did have some kind of abilities. After all, his "dreams" couldn't have just been his imagination, especially with how his sister died only a few weeks after he had them. He also couldn't forget his sexual prowess and skill, which had to be defined magically, somehow. He wasn't a wizard or witch like Harry or Lily, and he certainly wasn't a squib; but he had to be something to be able to do some of the things he did. Brian wasn't about to say he was some "psychic". He didn't believe in that bullshit, but his strange dreams over the years and his sexual prowess and skills had to have come from somewhere.
Harry couldn't honestly say anything as he looked at his Uncle. For years his Uncle had tried to take custody of him, but the Ministry and Dumbledore of all people wouldn't let him? "Tha - why?" Harry gasped out with hurt and sadness at this news.
"I have a few theories, but nothing you need to worry about. At least not since you're here anyway. And you certainly don't need any more worries after the bullshit you've had to deal with already."
"I - I have some papers. They'd allow you custody of me if you signed them." Harry murmured out shyly. He hadn't a clue how to reply to what his Uncle had just said. His pale cheeks flushed at the look on his Uncle and godfather's face.
"Let me see them and I'll get my lawyer...friend to look them over." Brian remarked as he leaned forward and held out a hand. Harry quickly opened his satchel and pulled out the documents. He handed them to his Uncle and waited as he read them over before pulling out his cellphone and dialing a number.
"Hey Lindsay, look, I need a favor from the Bitch." Brian stated into the phone. "Yeah, yeah, I know, don't call her that." He rolled his eyes. "Anyways, I need her expertise on some law shit. My nephew appeared -" A sigh escaped from his lips. "Yes, Lindsay, I know. But I promised Lily I would and I'm going to keep that promise, no matter how late it may be." His head tilted as he listened to his friend continue to speak. "Look - just get her to come to the office tomorrow or to my loft after she gets off." An annoyed look flashed across his face. "No, Lindsay, I'm not fucking kidding. Just do it. At my loft is fine. Or even in the morning tomorrow at the office. Yeah, Later." Brian hung up the phone and shook his head with exasperation.
"Some fucking people." He muttered under his breath. Shaking his head he looked over at Harry. "So, with any luck, we'll get this paperwork straightened out tomorrow. But in the meantime, how are you doing? You hungry, tired?" Brian questioned.
That was fast, thought Harry. He had come all the way to America to find his Uncle in hopes that he would find a family. And just like that he was going to have a place to live, with his real Uncle, someone that loved his mother and knew his mother. Before he could respond Harry's face flushed as his stomach grumbled to life.
Brian chuckled. "Right. Well, I guess that answers my question. Let me get my shoes and shit on and then I'll take you wherever you want to go." Brian stated as he pushed himself up from the couch. He walked across the room and up the three steps that led into his bedroom. He swiftly put his socks and shoes on and grabbed his leather jacket that he always wore when dressed casually. He double-checked all his buttons of his button-fly were done and his silk black shirt was buttoned up enough to be comfortable.
Brian came down to see Harry still sitting on the couch in his obviously second hand, ratty clothing. "You know, I'm going to have to give you a serious make over. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing the clothes you have on." He stated with a critical eye. "Unless of course, you'd rather stay wearing something a dog wouldn't sleep on."
Harry couldn't believe the insults his Uncle was giving him, well his clothes, not him. They weren't his choice, there was no way he could buy himself anything.
The forlorn look on his godsons face gave Brian pause. Brian relaxed his face to look kind and not judgmental. "No kid should be seen in shit like that, Harry. I know what it's like, when you don't have a choice, taken what's given without any fucking say in the matter… Oh yeah, been there, done that." He stated in an uncaring manner. Harry could almost hear a little sadness in his voice though.
"You - you have?" Harry inquired with curiosity.
"Mhm." Brian made the small noise in the back of his throat as he opened his loft door. Harry walked up to the door just as Brian was about to step out. He could see the questions in Harry's eyes and decided to nip that in the bud right now. "I might tell you someday, just… no questions right now, okay?"
Harry paused for a moment, thinking about that. He wanted to know, but it kind of made sense, if someone were to ask him about living with the Dursleys he would have no interest in explaining anything. Harry looked up to his Uncle Brian and smiled and nodded. "Yeah, no questions… Does that mean I don't have to answer the same questions?"
Brian chuckled, smart kid. "I might expect a few answers that you might not want to answer, but I won't ever force you share anything you're not willing to share, okay? You should never have to do anything or say anything you don't want, ever." Brian stated this with such passion and conviction that Harry believed him, and somehow, even though they'd just met, trusted him.
Brian put his arm around Harry's shoulders in a kind of hug that didn't necessarily have to be seen as a hug. Brian was never much for hugs, but Harry looked like he could use a little support. And if Brian was honest with himself, he didn't mind a little hug or comfort after all the time he had wanted to take care of Harry, and now he was finally here, and Harry found a way to him on his own.
"So Harry… ever had Chinese?" He asked his nephew with a raised eyebrow.
"No." Harry replied with a frown.
"Pizza?" Brian tried again. All he got in reply was a shake of his head. "You're definitely missing out. I really do need you to get up to speed. I usually get a salad from the Pizza Palace, but I'm willing to kill myself by getting a bite of pizza for you." He stated with a sly smirk as the two walked down the hallway and towards the elevator.
Reviews would be awesome.
So, I got a review from a reader, and it got me thinking on what she said, and she was right. I didn't even remember writing the section of Harry actually knowing what a "sexed look" looks like, as he is only twelve, nearly thirteen. So, I changed it a bit, but it's not much of a change.
I may change a bit of chapter two, I don't think I'll change much, I'm not sure yet. I'm waiting for someone (my beta's) input on what I should do.