[identity profile] jujukittychick.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Harry’s First Pet
Author: jujukittychick
Fandom: Harry Potter
Cast: Harry Potter
Prompt: [livejournal.com profile] tamingthemuse#273- Ink and the accompanying image http://pics.livejournal.com/tamingmods/pic/0002003p (an inkblot image)
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the computer I'm typing this on and am making no money. The fandoms belong to their respective creators and owners who *are* making money off them. I'm just doing this for my own fun and entertainment; in general, if you recognize something, I don't own it.
Beta: NONE! Any mistakes are my own
Spoilers: First book

Summary: Harry makes a new friend while locked in his cupboard.


Harry was sitting on his cot, looking down at his school book on his lap, listening as Aunt Petunia fussed over her precious Duddikins instead of doing his homework. And he knew exactly what she was fussing over too. Dudley had stuck a pen, never mind that they weren’t supposed to be using them yet, in his pocket and promptly forgotten about it so later when they were outside playing during their break, he had sat down and broken it. It had made a horrible mess, the ink spreading incredibly quickly and ruining the shorts for any proper use again. Of course, Dudley had told the teacher it was Harry’s fault, that he’d pushed him and made him fall, never mind that Harry had been across the playground, as far from his cousin and his evil little minions as he could get, or the fact that he was half his cousin’s size. It didn’t matter, not like it ever did, Dudley’s minions had backed up his statement and Harry had lost his recess privileges for the rest of the week, not that he was really complaining, it actually made him safer since having to stand at attention next to the teacher during the small breaks meant that Dudley and his gang couldn’t attack him or blame him for anything.

A couple minutes later he could hear the light tapping footsteps on the stairs that belonged to his aunt followed by the pounding footsteps of his cousin, who halfway down proceeded to jump up and down, knowing it would send a shower of dust and plaster down on Harry. Sighing, he dusted off his book and cleaned his glasses just in time for his aunt to unlock and open his cupboard door. Glaring down at him, she tossed something at him, causing him to duck reflexively only to be thoroughly confused as the object settled over his head and shoulders, thoroughly enveloping him in darkness. What in the world…

His aunt’s shrill voice seemed to echo in the small confines of his cupboard. “You might as well keep those since you messed them up. You can wear them to clean the house; no sense in possibly destroying any other clothing, and after we provide you with all those fine clothes to wear. Your jealousy is just going too far; imagine you picking on my little Duddikins. You’ve got two hours to do your homework and then you’re to come help in the kitchen with dinner and go to bed. If you don’t have your homework done before then, too bad; I won’t waste perfectly good electricity on ungrateful wretches like you.”

Wincing as the door slammed shut and the lock clicked back into place, Harry sighed and pulled the object, now recognized as Dudley’s ink stained shorts, off of his head, nose wrinkling in disgust at the idea of something so recently removed from that part of his cousin’s body being draped across his face. Dropping them on the foot of his cot, he tried to turn his attention back to his homework, no doubt in his mind that his aunt would follow through on her threat. He was lucky she turned the light on for him at all. Of course, all he could focus on was his aunt’s hateful words. “All those fine clothes” his arse. He had two sets of decent clothes to wear to school that were cycled out over and over, the rest were all hand-me-downs from Dudley making them much too large and causing him to look like a bum, which his aunt and uncle then scolded him over. It was a never ending cycle, had been for as long as he could remember, and he was pretty sure would continue on until he could find a way to leave.

Once again, he tried dragging his attention back to his homework and ignoring the sounds of his aunt bringing Dudley a snack and Dudley watching some loud show and laughing like loon. Rubbing at his eyes under his glasses, he sighed dejectedly, wishing he could have some form of entertainment, but that was denied to him just as much as television and sweets. A soft rustling noise disturbed his train of thought and he uncovered his eyes, looking around suspiciously. It wasn’t like anything other than bugs could actually manage to get inside his cupboard, and he knew those kind of noises by now.

A hint of movement caught his eye and he looked down at the bunched up shorts on the end of his cot. Staring at the fabric, he watched as it twitched and buckled, as if something inside was trying to get out. Had Dudley stuck a frog in his pocket, or perhaps something worse, and forgotten about it? Reaching out with his nub of a pencil, he flipped the top layer of fabric over, hoping that whatever was in there wouldn’t be dangerous, only to have the fabric to lay out completely flat, no bumps or lumps to indicate anything that could have moved. Only the giant ink stain, that looked somewhat like a combination of a bat and a butterfly to him, was visible. Maybe it slid off the back of the cot?

Brows wrinkling in confusion, he peered over the edge of the cot as much as he could, trying to see if something was moving around down there. Something moved at the edge of his vision and he turned back, watching wide eyed as the shorts moved once more, but this time it seemed to be coming directly from the ink stain itself. Breathlessly he watched as the “wings” of the spot seemed to try to lift over and over, then the “head” and the “body.” It was quite disturbing, and yet utterly fascinating to watch. Finally after several long minutes, the spot?…ink?…creature?…hallucination?… pulled free of the fabric, leaving the shorts in pristine condition, and proceeded to flutter unsteadily around the small confines of the cupboard.

Harry watched in amazement as the creature, yes it had substance, one of the wings brushed against his hair as it was clumsily flapping about, finally settled upside down on one of the braces across the ceiling, much like the bat that it had reminded Harry of. What in the world? He knew freaky stuff happened around him frequently, always had according to his aunt and uncle and cousin, but this was something completely new.

Nibbling his bottom lip nervously as he tried to figure out what to do about this newest situation he came to be in, he hesitantly reached out a shaky finger towards the creature, speaking softly so his voice wouldn’t carry outside his small room. “Hello there. I hope you’re not dangerous, please don’t attack me, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

The creature, all black with shiny black eyes, simply stared at him. Whether it understood him or not, it didn’t move as Harry reached towards it, nor when that shaky finger gently stroked the small head. Feeling bolder, Harry smiled and began to pet the small creature with soft strokes from head up to its clinging feet, marveling at the soft texture of its fur. Giggling softly as the creature fluttered its wings, only to latch onto Harry’s hand with the claw like end and proceed to transfer its perch to him, he spoke again. “I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘creature;’ you need a name. How about…hmmm…maybe?….no…I’m sorry, I’ve never had a pet before, I’m not quite sure how to go about picking out a name. How about Shadow? Hanging around in here, which you’ll have to, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley would throw a right fit if they found you, but in here, you’ll look just like another odd shadow. I do hope you can stay, at least for a while.” Harry looked down at his discarded school book, feeling Shadow crawl around his hand, nuzzling and lapping at his fingers. “I just get so lonely. Dudley won’t give me a chance to make any friends in school and I’m not allowed outside except to do chores. It’d be nice to have someone around to talk to, even if you can’t talk back.”

Shadow lay in the palm of his hand and looked up at him, shiny black eyes unblinking and entirely unearthly, and yet, he felt the little creature understood what he was saying. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but then again, hadn’t it been a wish that had made the little guy appear in the first place? Regardless, he thanked whoever listened to lonely little boys’ prayers and chatted softly with the little creature, deciding his homework could be skipped for once, it wasn’t like he was allowed to do better than Dudley in class anyway.

And thus, an unlikely friendship was formed between a neglected little boy and a former ink spot, one that would last just over a year, until strange letters started arriving addressed to one “Harry Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs,” and the little boy didn’t need him anymore. Even so, Harry missed his first little pet, as odd as it was, and could never look at an ink stain again without smiling fondly in remembrance.
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