Work Text:
It was crazy. It was unreasonable. It was a… hunch.
Since Harry had found out about his family, something nagged at him.
"You're just like James," Remus told him. "You have your Mother's eyes," McGonagall remarked at his green eyes. "The Dursleys are your only remaining family," Dumbledore informed him regretfully, when he inquired about other relations. The green-eyed wizard listened to them. He believed them, but… he didn't want to.
'Am I really alone?' He questioned himself, as he laid in his bed, quietly staring at the red and gold canopy. 'Isn't there someone, anyone else than Dursleys to take me in?'
Something was nagging at him, prodding him to dig deeper… but how?
He always had an inordinate amount of luck - Devil's luck, some people proclaimed. Mostly, people attributed his trouble-attraction to some or other obscure Potter curse, but it baffled them just how the young Potter managed to worm his way out of situations any ordinary man would've died a thousand times over.
And… he wasn't so similar to James Potter, either. His messy hair was more spiky than curly, although it was still black. His green eyes were the same, but slightly narrow, like those of someone with small amount of Japanese blood in their veins… and lastly, Harry began to suspect that his height was not entirely a byproduct of malnutrition… the potions took care of that.
And of course… his mind. Lately, it was as if someone had lifted a proverbial veil from it, and Harry found out that he had easier comprehension of subjects he otherwise found rather hard to understand.
Green eyes narrowing, he glared at the innocent fabric. Something didn't add up there, and he intended to find out just what it was.
He stared at the pergament, flabbergasted. It was the third time that his life was turned around so completely.
There, it wrote, black on white, in neat little letters:
Lily Marie Evans (mother - Deceased) – Seiichi Hiruma(father - Unknown) =Youichi Hiruma (Half brother) – Alive
He had a half brother.
Hot damn.
Next few days, he spent in a daze, barely believing he had another relative, and a half-brother at that!
He was elated about his discovery, but on the other side, he was a little angry and mutinous. Why didn't anyone tell him about his half – brother? And why did everyone held him in a belief of being the only child of Lily Potter?
His Gryffindor side was rip-roaring angry – until his Slytherin side whacked it with a clue bus. If nobody knew about… this, then that meant Lily kept it a secret from everyone; for what reason, he knew not. But something was clear – Dumbledore's little mumbo-jumbo about protection just lost its' credibility.
Harry grinned a shark grin as he whipped out a ballpoint pen and some paper and set out to write a letter to his dearest, beloved big brother.
For the first time in his life, Hiruma was truly stumped. There, in his hand, he held a letter that proclaimed he had a half-brother, and the said half-brother would like to get to know him.
In that moment, he was grateful he was in his apartment, safe from prying eyes – it wouldn't bode well if he were to be caught gaping like a brainless guppy, even if the received information was startling. He eyed Kerberos – who seemed to … talk with the feathered menace – Hedwig, was it? He blinked, did Kerberos just… Gave the damn owl a portion of his jerky? Well… he did. And the feathered annoyance accepted the offering primly, like it was an everyday occurrence.
Slowly, his lips stretched into amused and rather terrifying grin. Whoever was the owner of the hellish bird menace that could pursue the hellhound to give away its' precious jerky, was worthy of getting to know more about.
Green eyes widened with delight as he saw familiar white shadow flying to him. When Hedwig landed, Harry noticed she was a tad worse to wear, but she was still in one piece. And to his satisfaction, she also carried a letter.
"Harry, whose letter is that?" The buck-toothed girl asked him curiously. Harry blinked. For a moment, he had forgotten where he was. Well, Great Hall wasn't very private place after all; especially at mornings.
He sighed. "It's personal, Hermione," He answered simply. When he saw her opening her mouth, he interrupted. "And it's from a friend I got to know last summer, so relax." Hermione nodded petulantly, but she perked up soon. "Are they witch or wizard? Do they go to Wizarding School? Can I – "
Harry sighed.. "Hermione!" He rebuked her, exasperated. The witch blushed slightly. Meanwhile, Harry relieved Hedwig of her letter, giving her a generous helping of bacon for reward, disregarding Ron's longing stare at the mentioned food. "Yes, he is a wizard. Yes, he goes to school and NO; you may not see or read the contents of the letter."
"But Harry!" Hermione whined, pouting. Harry snorted at her attempt at using puppy eyes. Usually, he would've caved in, but not this time. He eyed her drolly. "Suck it up, Hermione. It's private, meaning for my eyes only. And I am allowed having friends outside Hogwarts." And with that the debate was concluded.
Harry's first impression of his brother was… he cussed way too much. Hiruma was older than Harry – he knew that already – he lived in Japan, by himself – okay, that was new, NOT; he loved playing American Football – Harry could relate to this – and he demanded to know what the fuck was going on, finding out about his little brother only now – oh, and there were some very nicely wrapped threats if this was a joke. Harry snorted. He liked this Hiruma already.
The next post, Hiruma discovered, arrived ridiculously soon. And it was very enlightening, too. He had received some photos – on on first one, there was a woman with fiery red hair and green eyes – the same woman his father had on some of his photos – or at least those he managed to scrounge off of him. Whenever his father looked at the pictures of this woman, he got a sad glint in his eyes, and Hiruma finally knew why. Second photo was of the same woman, but with messy-haired man and a bundle of joy in her arms, and the last one was of a shrimpy twerp with wild black hair, green eyes and bottle glasses perched on his face. Hiruma twitched. He grabbed a ballpoint pen and began to write.
And he would deny – to his dying day and beyond – that he was an overprotective big brother.
Really.
Harry winced. It was a wonder the paper hadn't ignited yet, what with the amount of cuss words being written on it. Hiruma thoroughly berated him for his stupidity – fucking dumbass -was only one of the loving endearments Hiruma gifted Harry with. Harry dreaded to imagine what would his big brother think, much less do, when he'd find out about his... adventures. For some reason, his brain conjured a picture of him being chased by machine-gun wielding, sharp – toothed blonde maniac in red and white jersey, while dodging the bullets said maniac was firing at him. He shuddered at the image and gulped, before continuing to read the letter.
The next letter nearly sent Hiruma packing for England, before he calmed down and rationally thought about the letter's contents. Harry had been injured in that stupid Quidditch match – and it could've been worse, from what Harry had described. Even so, his little brother was definitely a trouble magnet, which just firmed Hiruma's resolve to get to the damn brat as soon as possible. Something fishy was going on there, and Hiruma didn't like it!
The Dursleys expected this summer to pass quietly, with minimal problems form the freak, as they lovingly – not – termed their nephew.
Sadly, they didn't count on the… additional house guest, which came in all his spiky blonde – haired glory, cunning green eyes glinting, shark smile on his lips and him being a veritable moving and talking armory to boot. It was the first time since his childhood that Vernon Dursley didn't manage to deign not to bawl out in front of his neighbors.
Harry, on the other side, was in heaven.
Petunia Dursley was in Hell.
Dudley Dursley got a fill of his morning exercise, running from Kerberos.
The first time Hiruma had seen his half-brother live-in, his first thought was 'Not bad.' The shrimp was smaller than the fucking shrimp (Sena), which was a feat, but it was a good upgrade from that hideous photo. Harry's hair was sill messy as ever, and he was still a little too much on a thin side, but at least he got rid of those hideous bottle glasses in favor of thinner ones with square lenses. But most of all, Hiruma got lost in those deep emerald green eyes.
Not that he would tell that to the pipsqueak, anyway.
The first time Harry had seen his long lost brother, he was taken aback. He had imagined a typical Japanese – black hair, black eyes, polite to a fault and … well, ordinary. How wrong he was.
Hiruma Youichi was anything but. Spiky blonde hair, jade green eyes without pupils, cussed way too much, had sharp teeth to put Ripper to shame, and he was… pointy. Sharp. His face was sharp – all angles and his pointy ears would get any admirer of Star Trek in epic fangasms, so to speak; not to mention his earrings. He was taller than Harry by at least two heads; and thin. He spoke English flawlessly, with barely accented voice, and he was shamelessly loud. Oh, and let's not forget the blonde devil's obsession with American football, guns, sugarless gum and screwing with people's brains.
He was crazy, violent, loud-mouthed, cunning… and he was exactly what Harry needed at this point of time.
In the following days, the two brothers learned much about each other. Hiruma enjoyed outwitting and messing with people – and getting new slaves. Especially getting new slaves. Harry had a hero streak a mile wide. Both of them were nuts about their respective sports, though Hiruma still argued that football was better than Quidditch. Hiruma was a crazy whiz with electronics. Harry… not so much. To Hiruma's dismay, Harry was terrible at strategy; however Harry could be more than decent running back and receiver. Hiruma could lie with the best, and Harry was a very bad liar. Hiruma was cynical. Harry was still naïve.
At mornings, Hiruma couldn't function properly without having to drink at least two cups of strong black coffee. Harry detested that particular beverage and acted like a mother-en whenever he felt Hiruma was skipping his meals. And, disturbingly enough. Harry could always tell when he did. Without fail.
Hiruma was fascinated with the wizarding world, but also incensed that his baby brother was so poorly protected. The goblins were fun to haggle with, but wizarding folk lacked the common sense terribly.
He shook his head, disgusted. Idiots, the lot of them. It was a worrying thought that the fucking Headmaster, as he dubbed Dumbledore, was so revered and held so much power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and Hiruma detested the man's philosophy of 'Greater Good' fiercely. True, there were times when a man had to make sacrifices, but Dumbledore had overstepped his bounds too much for Hiruma's tastes. Harry's first year was proof of that. The second year only nailed the proverbial nail in the coffin. Dumbledore was manipulating Harry – the only question was, why? What would the old goat gain from that? According to Harry, Voldemort was afraid of the old coot. So why didn't said old coot off the little snake when he had a chance? What he knew they didn't?
Dread swept into Hiruma's bones as he came to the only available conclusion, Dumbledore was preparing a stage… and he intended to use Harry as a sacrificial lamb.
This summer was an exciting one for Harry. He got to know Hiruma, learned about firearms and how to use them; he also learned how to read people's intents and much to his chagrin, strategy. However, he had fun, too; Hiruma had taken him to the beach and taught him how to swim, and they also visited amusement park, and went to see a football match or two. For the first time in his life, Harry felt… normal.
Something was… amiss. There was this… energy between them; and it scared and excited Hiruma all the same. They had clicked so good, that Hiruma was left wondering just what the heck had happened. At first he had thought it was some case of reverse Stockholm syndrome, but he dismissed that thought quickly. Harry wasn't afraid of him. Sure, the runt was timid at the beginning, but that was understandable. It made Hiruma feel amused and exasperated at the same time, like watching a small kitten chase after a feather. Unknowingly to him, his affection became a little deeper each passing day, and Hiruma wasn't so sure he would like their separation. Looking at sleeping Harry, Hiruma sighed softly. The boy was asleep; dark hair tousled and soft breaths were even. Harry's cheeks were a little bit flushed, but Hiruma's attention was drawn to the pair of pink-colored lips. As if he were in a trance, he lifted his arm and traced their shape lightly, with softest, gentlest touch, with the barest tip of his finger.
He wanted to take him away, and hide his little brother far, far away from the world. Harry's innocence and naivety were endearing, and his bull-headedness was amusing, although a little bit irritating for Hiruma at times. Harry was very similar to the speedy shrimp back at home, and yet, if Hiruma had to choose between the two, he would chose Harry, and not only out of the familial obligation, either. Harry was his; he would be his even if they didn't meet under such strange circumstances. Even if they weren't related, Hiruma pondered, he would take Harry for himself.
Murmuring incoherently, the dark – haired boy snuggled deeper into Hiruma's body, making the blonde grit his teeth in delight and restraint. "You really like to walk on that thin line, don't you, brat?" Hiruma muttered to his precious burden fondly. Thin, but strong arms embraced the slight body a little bit tighter, while their owner rejoiced and bemoaned the contact between their bodies.
Something deep inside him purred a contented purr as he inhaled Harry's scent – so pure and carefree, and a little tainted with a hint of darkness. Sharp jade green eyes closed as the blond pondered the next step. Harry would be thirteen soon; and he was eighteen. No matter how he turned the case, it would be a cradle-robbing. Of course, he could wait for Harry to grow up a bit, but Hiruma found out that he didn't want to. Life was short and with Harry being in danger every year, he really didn't want to waste more time than he already had. And he understood why…. Why his old man chose…her. Exhaling a tired sigh, he made himself comfortable, before he was swallowed into the darkness.
/To Be Continued/