Family Matters: Chapter Thirteen
Chapter 13
The Grangers and the Potters (as Hermione insisted on being referred to as Mrs. Potter, at least amongst those in the know) sat in the Leaky Cauldron waiting for the Weasleys to show up. Let me get this straight. They got handfasted, but want to pretend to be just engaged so that they can have a big wedding, but Hermione still wants to be called Mrs. Potter? This is needlessly confusing. Harry sat contemplating the information he had gotten just the day before, from the representative for the Crown.
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Blah blah blah. Vernon is going to jail, and the Dursleys have to pay back the money. Harry calls Petunia "a worthless piece of Muggle trash." Nice, Harry.
Hermione looked at him and said, a bit coldly, “My parents are Muggles, in case you’ve forgotten.” Way to go, Hermione!
“No, I haven’t forgotten. You also understand what I mean, as well. Muggle trash gets thrown out on the curbside. Wizarding trash is treated better than I was, or than they deserve, if only because it might explode or something if not handled properly. I’m saying that Petunia and Dudley are worthless, and always will be, and that any tears when they die will be faked for the newspapers. They’re garbage, and Voldemort can have them, for all I care.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, ignoring Hermione’s glare. THIS IS NOT HARRY. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK BOOKS DID YOU READ, AND WHERE DID YOU GET THE IDEA THAT HARRY WOULD ACT LIKE THIS? The Dursleys treated Harry horribly, but Harry did not hesitate to save Dudley's life. Gah. Kinsfire, you are taking everything that I love about Harry and twisting it.
The fireplace flared, and one by one the Weasley family spun to a stop. They hurried over to the table, and NAKED hugs were shared all around. It was quite obvious that the naked Potters were not speaking at the moment. Harry looked at Hermione for a moment, his naked face fell, and he said quietly, “Shall we head into Diagon Alley? I think we all need to stop at Gringott’s first.” Without waiting for an answer, he stood and headed out the door for the brick wall, which he tapped listlessly. Here's an idea, Harry. How about instead of sulking, you apologize for what you said, and stop being such a self-pitying, hate-filled twatmuffin.
As they walked down the street, Harry heading the procession, Ron caught up to him and tugged his weiner in the traditional wizards' greeting shoulder. “What’s up, chum? You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”
“One of them, at least,” Harry replied quietly. “Ron, do you have any idea why I can’t do anything but Quidditch and Defence against the Dark Arts right? Why am I so worthless when it comes to interacting with other people?” OH MY STARS AND GARTERS. EVEN I WAS NOT THIS ANGSTY AS A TEENAGER.
“Whoa - where’d this come from?”
Whine whine whine. They go to Gringotts, where harry gets MORE money from Sirius. He gives some to Hermione, and a ton to the Weasleys. I'm pretty sure they'd be insulted. They may be poor, but they always have enough for the necessities, and they would never accept that money.
“Yes, Mister Potter. We have a new money bag that is only reachable by the individual it is spelled for, that will release whatever amount of cash the individual states. Also, for those who occasionally deal in Muggle circles, such as yourself, we offer what the Muggles call a debit card. Do you know how those work?” No. No debit cards. This is ridiculous.
Harry nodded. “Okay, we’ll need a pouch and card for Miss Granger, fees to come from my vault, and the same for myself.” The goblin nodded, and jumped down from the desk, returning a moment later with a short stack of papers.
“These are your requests. Once you sign them, we will process them immediately. Miss Granger shall need to come over to claim her card and pouch and your balls key, however.”
Harry nodded and signed in several places, and then turned to the group waiting for him in the waiting area. “Hermione?” he said, motioning her over. When she got there, he nodded to the goblin. “He has some business for you to deal with, and then we can get to our shopping.” He walked over to the group, leaving Hermione to deal with the goblin. “I want to get out of here soon, she’s probably going to be angry with me for what I did, thinking I’m trying to bribe my way back into her good graces.” Well, it sure seems that way. Why the fuck are you not TALKING to her instead of just throwing money at the problem? Protip: Harry's last name is NOT Malfoy.
“What did you do?” Helen asked.
The Weasleys are not happy, but Harry decides that the best policy is to give them even MORE money.
“Because the only way I end up with money is by people ending up dead. My folks died to save my life, for all the good it really did. Wow. Way to spit on your parents' sacrifice, you ungrateful little turdmuffin. Sirius died because I’m simply too fucking stupid to realize when I’m being set up. Both ended up leaving me large sums of money. So, I figure, if I have to be getting this money in the first place, I might as well give it to people who might actually deserve the money, rather than sit there making more money off all the people I’ve killed to date. What next? A million the day that I get someone else killed? That reminds me - I’d best make sure that Remus picks someone else for his will, since he’s likely to have named me, as the son of one of the Marauders. Tell him to give it to you, or to Ron, or the Weasleys. Give it to someone who deserves it, not someone who gets everyone around him killed.” Hermione’s eyes were filled with tears, and she ran over to her mother and sobbed against her chest, wondering how easy it would be to get a divorce and a restraining order. Harry saw the Weasleys approaching, and he headed for the doors.
He never got completely out of anyone’s sight, but he was obviously not willing to speak to anyone at the moment. Finally, the day’s shopping done, he sat outside Florean Fortescue’s waiting for the others to catch up. He sat staring into space, watching Hermione with her parents, and murmured, “Why did they stop me? The world would be so much better off if they’d just let me succeed. All I do is destroy.” Yes, all you do is DESTROY MY APPETITE.
“That’s not true, Harry,” a dreamy voice said from behind him. “You help people quite a lot.”
“Yeah, into an early grave. Just ask Sirius about my parents. Voldemort, with the help of Snape and Pettigrew, killed your parents. Don't give yourself so much credit. Oh, I forgot, you can’t, because I killed him!” He turned to face Luna Lovegood, the eccentric Ravenclaw.
“No you didn’t, Harry. Bellatrix Lestrange cast the spell that made him fall through the veil. He killed himself by not being on his guard. Voldemort was the one who drew you there in the first place. There is plenty of blame to go around.”
Luna tries to talk some sense into Harry, but he is having way too much fun wangsting. Seriously, I'm starting to suspect that he gets off on self-loathing.
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A short time later, they were all in Professor Dumbledore’s office. Harry had refused to talk, saying that it was useless because NOBODY UNDERSTANDS HIM WAAAAAAAH they’d end up hearing it in the office they were now in. He had reiterated his previous points, and added one more he hadn’t said thus far. “Hermione’s reaction made me realize - I am a menace. I stand every likelihood of taking over Tom’s job when I defeat him, assuming I do. How much better am I going to be than he is?” Well, you're already worse than he is when it comes to whining.
“Hermione’s reaction?” Dumbledore asked.
“Yeah. We got talking about the Dursley’s, and I said that I wouldn’t mourn if they died at Voldemort’s hands. I actually want them dead. She’s right to be angry and disgusted with me over that! What kind of heartless monster wishes the only living family he has dead! They’re the only link I have to my mother, and here I am, wishing that Voldemort would get his hands on them and kill them! Even now, knowing how monstrous that makes me, I can’t shake the desire to see them pay, painfully and fatally.”
“What kind of a person am I for wanting the people dead who treated me as I deserved?!” he screamed into the quiet room. Oh my goodness. HOW DOES THIS PIECE OF SHIT HAVE FANS? AND WHAT POSSESSED ME WHEN I DECIDED TO SPORK IT? “I am a freak, even amongst wizards! I destroy everything I touch! I deserve to be shunned, if only for wanting my family dead. What hideous kind of thing am I?” The last was said in a whisper, but everyone heard it. You're a Stu, Harry. A massive, stinking, Angsty Stu.
He looked up suddenly. “Sir, Hermione was brought into this under false pretences. What does it take to dissolve a handfasting? She shouldn’t be destroying her life being with me. She should be freed from the bond, and then the Grangers memory modified into not remembering this summer. There are things best forgotten.” He looked to Helen for a moment. “Another proof of my sheer monstrosity,” he whispered into the air. “I agree to go into full time training to learn everything I possibly can in order to kill Voldemort but in return, people need to be modified into feeling differently about me. The Weasleys, the Grangers, Tonks, Remus, Luna - basically, anyone currently crazy enough to care about me. I’d recommend it for you as well, sir. They need to be modified into thinking of me as I really am - the next candidate for Dark Lord.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t my parents be just so fucking proud of me, to know that they gave their lives just to protect a monster that should have been drowned at his birth?” He looked up at Dumbledore, not seeing him. “I promise to not attempt suicide again, sir. My job is to kill Voldemort, since I’m the only one who can. Then the Aurors can take me out before I try to pick up the mantle.”
I NEED CUTE ANIMALS BEFORE I COLLAPSE UNDER THE WEIGHT OF ALL THIS WHINING.
He finally focused on Dumbledore, who was doing something Harry had never seen, and from the reactions of the wizarding adults, neither had they. Dumbledore was shaking with rage so great that he simply could not speak. “Great. Now I manage to anger the greatest living wizard. Before I destroy anything else …”
He was too late. Dumbledore set him on fire, and he died horribly. With the death of Harry Stu, canon was restored, and the real Harry was found tied up in Kinsfire's basement. Kinsfire served a life sentence in Azkaban for his crimes, and they all lived happily ever after.
He bolted from the room before anyone could stop him. They’ll look for me - they don’t see the danger. I can’t go anywhere on Hogwarts grounds - Dumbledore will find me in a heartbeat. Where can I go? He suddenly thought of somewhere, but knew that he’d have to approach it from a different direction. He ran pell-mell for Hogsmeade, escaping the grounds in surprisingly short order, before doubling back and heading for the Forbidden Forest.Good. I hope an Acromantula eats him.
Chapter 12 ~ Table of Contents ~ Chapter 14