abbie

ao3: handsoaps

[handsoapps]

“D’you remember what You-Know-Who looks like?”

An excerpt from a satirical fic I'm working on where Harry has been brought up by Sirius - Link

Ron Weasley stopped in the doorway and glanced around awkwardly. Sirius had worked closely with Arthur Weasley at the Ministry, so Harry was fairly acquainted with the Weasley children. He’d never really spoken to Ron before, though.

“Hey,” Harry said. 

“Er - hi,” said Ron, making absolutely no effort to sit down.

Harry sighed - was the Voldemort thing not enough? Did he really need to be everyone’s hero?”

“Do you want to sit here?”

Ron bit his lip. “Only if its not taken -”

“It is,” said Harry.

Ron’s face fell. “By who?”

“You.” 

Ron rolled his eyes, but stored his trunk (with the help of Harry) and sat down across from him. They stared at one another blankly for a few moments, unsure what to say next.

“D’you remember what You-Know-Who looks like?” Ron blurted.

Okay, so he had absolutely no tact whatsoever.

“Seriously?” Harry said.

Ron shrugged and said nothing.

“No,” said Harry, “I don’t remember what Voldemort looks like.”

Ron cringed. “You shouldn’t say the name.”

“You shouldn’t ask people what they remember about the man who brutally murdered their parents the first day you speak to them,” Harry countered.

Ron’s face flushed the same color of his hair. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have - that was really stupid.”

“It was a very offensive question,” Harry insisted. 

Sirius had warned him this might happen - for the first ten years of his life, he’d managed to keep Harry relatively sheltered from the effects of his fame. Although he’d been told not to hesitate if an opportunity presented itself where it could be used to his advantage.

“I know. I should’ve listened to my mum - she told me not to ask you.”

Harry shrugged. “It's okay. I mean, I exaggerated a bit - my parents weren’t exactly brutally murdered. The killing curse doesn’t even leave a physical mark.” Harry saw Ron’s eyes travel up to his hairline and sighed. “If it works,” he added.

“Oh. Right.” Ron smiled sheepishly.

“Although I was fifteen months old at the time,” Harry pointed out, “my long-term memory was fairly underdeveloped.”

“Yeah - I guess I didn’t really think about that,” Ron amended.

“No one does,” said Harry.