Hello, lovely readers! Yes, for any of you who might have read the first chapter of my other story, Jack's Daughter, I am working on that. I just got a little distracted by the pretty sparkly plot bunny that was hopping through my head. Yay! Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own anything of the Harry Potter Franchise, nor anything of the Marvel Franchise, except maybe a few books/movies/t-shirts/other doodads. This is the only disclaimer I will make for the entire story. Enjoy!
Italics = Portuguese/Spanish/Other Hispanic languages/ and, obviously, angry/empowered/blahblahblah text
Bold Italics = Other languages
Normal = English
Underlines=text on screens/words on pages
The Child of a Monster
Chapter 1: A Prologue
Harry could just vaguely remember the day he met his father. It was long off and blurry in his three year old memory. What were remembered, were mostly the sounds and smells of the new place. He had never been somewhere outside of Number 4 or his cupboard, and he was curious, as a little boy, never having been outside his home, was apt to be. Constantly peering around his uncle's girth, Harry managed to get a few glances of where they were going in the strange topless truck, though he received a smack in return every time. Harry also had a few snapshots of memory before this, of a dark rainy night, his uncle gazing around the doorway of the house then rushing him towards the car, shoving him into the back seat. He remembered speeding through the gloom, realizing that they were heading towards a plane, getting on said plane, and falling asleep. He had awakened in his current position, the truck.
Abruptly, the truck, which he knew now to be a jeep, stopped, and the man driving started to talk very quickly with a thick accent while pointing up. When Harry turned to look where he pointed, his jaw dropped. Mountains made of houses and other buildings, people living on top of other people, going on forever. Curiously, the young child peeked up through his hair at his uncle, and opened his wee mouth to ask his questions.
"Where are we?" The answer he got beck was rough and hurtful, though expected.
"Shut up. Don't ask questions." His uncle responded. Then, for good measure, he also kicked the boy. After giving the child his due payment, he turned back to the driver.
"You said he lives up there? At the top?" At the driver's nod, the hefty man sighed, grabbed the boy's arm, and started to march through the streets. Eventually, he pulled the boy, Harry, up to face level and started to growl at him.
"Listen here boy, I'm doing this for you, you'd better be grateful. We are going to go up to the top there, and find someone, and talk to him. Understood?" "Yes, Uncle Vernon." At Harry's nodding response, the man stood up and began to hike through the streets again, dragging the boy behind. After a while, Vernon, whose last name was Dursley, finally exhausted his last bit of energy and stuck his thumb out. Almost immediately, a car pulled to the side and the door popped open.
"Where ya goin', gringo?"
"Up to the top, number 1056, the other white man's place. Do you know where that is?" With the strange man's head movement, Dursley threw Harry into the van, then hopped in himself.
"Get us there in twenty minutes, and you'll get paid," when he spoke those words, the van spend up, quite a bit.
Finally they had reached as far as they could go, and the local pointed at a small building towards the end of the row and held out his hand. Harry watched as he popped a twenty real into his hand, and told the driver to wait. Vernon Dursley then reached into the back and grabbed a bag. Holding it out to Harry, his uncle told him that he was to carry it. After he grabbed the bag, the older man dropped it and began to walk purposefully towards the small hut. Harry scurried after him, not wanting to be left behind. When they reached the house, Vernon banged on the door several times, and got the owner's attention.
"O que você quertão ce(1)- Oh, err.. Hello. Can I help you?"
"Yes," The uncle responded, rather gruffly, "I've come to return your son to you." At this statement, both the small boy and the strange man looked up, quite startled.
"Excuse me?" "What?" Both launched their voices out at the same time, and began to babble.
"Shut up, both of you. Yes, I've come to return your son to you, along with all his papers, and he will live with you."
"Thi- this can't happen. This isn't possible!"
"It has, and it is. If you didn't want a child, you should have gone cavorting with random women, namely, his mother."
"B- but, you don't understand. This isn't safe. He can not stay with me!" These words were spoken with such vehemence that Harry seemed to rock back with the force of them. His, father, whom he had thought dead, was here, alive! But, he didn't want Harry either. After looking down at the child, the man, Bruce, realized what his words must have sounded like, and kneeled down to look the boy in the face.
"Hey, buddy, menino(2), I didn't mean that I don't want you, I just meant that it's not safe to be with me. Do you understand?" He thought he could hear the other man muttering something about alcohol, but decided to ignore him. If he couldn't take a few verbal barbs, then how would he ever stay in control?
"Do you want to live with me? Would you rather live with me, even though it isn't safe, than him?" With those words he nodded his head towards the heavy man, stilling grumbling.
"Yes, yes! I would love to live with you. Do you live here? At the top?" Harry moved his head with such fervor that Bruce was afraid that he would faint, so he grabbed it, stopping the boy's movement and answered with a smile.
"Alright, I guess you will then." With these words, he stood and stared at the man who had brought this poor child. Bruce couldn't understand why a child would be so anxious to live with someone dangerous, unless… Unless he already lived with someone dangerous. With these thoughts stewing in his mind, the watch on his wrist started to beep. He took a few moments, counted to ten, in three different languages, and began to speak to the uncle.
"I will take him in, and you will never see him again." You will never acknowledge him, and if you ever see him on the street, you will not greet him, do you understand?"
"Good riddance." With those words, Vernon Dursley tossed the backpack to Bruce, and walked off, back to the van that would take him away from him. Bruce just gaped. 'How could any human being be so cruel to such a little child? Even General Ross wouldn't think of it.' With those thoughts, he turned to Harry and motioned for him to come inside.
(2) little child/little boy (Portuguese) I'm using this as a sort of pet name, if you will.
Hope you enjoyed! R&R, C&C whatever. :)