Tell Me The Truth -H.S. AU

62

I take a deep breath as Harry leads us into the house.

Pride swells in my chest for him when we cross the threshold and he pauses, needing to take a second to breathe. I stay behind him patiently, rubbing his hand with my thumb and secretly take in the charming interior.

The house smells of cedar with a hint of mint. You'd think it was a winter themed candle, but with all of the plants outside and the rustic feel to the house, I know that's just how it is. The house is lovely. It's really a fucking shame that it's filled with the worst years of Harry's life.

He resumes his steps forward and I follow, glancing at the family pictures lining the hallway and smile when I see a dorky class photo of Harry when he was about middle school age.

I'm following along behind him, when all of a sudden it's like I've run into a brick wall. Harry has stopped just as we reach the end of the hall and I collide into him with a grunt, getting the wind knocked out of me a little. I hear a faint gasp and freeze.

"Harry?" I say quietly, but he doesn't respond.

What the fuck is going on?

His body has tensed, he's so still that I'm not even sure he's breathing. The only thing convincing me he's alive is his hand holding onto mine for dear life. I thought he was squeezing tightly walking through the front door, but that was nothing compared to this.

I place my free hand on his arm and try to look around him to see what made him stop like that, but he reaches back and pushes me behind him again.

"Hi, son." An unfamiliar voice says from the living room. A small gasp escapes me and I squeeze Harry's hand back, trying to comfort him in some way.

"You don't know me well enough to call me that." Harry's voice is calm and stern, despite the slight trembling of his hand in mine.

I hear someone take quick footsteps, but they sound too light to be a man. I peer over Harry's shoulder to find Gemma rushing over to us. Our eyes meet for a second before she's word vomiting to Harry.

"H, I can explain." She says quickly, her voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to talk to him about the wedding. I needed to clear the air." She's talking so quickly that if I wasn't used to Harry's accent, I would need subtitles to understand her. "You haven't come to the house in the past three years, we had no idea you'd be here. I asked him to come... I-I'm sorry."

Harry is completely silent for an agonizing amount of time as he stares at his sister. A chill crawls up my spine as I catch a glimpse of the hurt on his face when he finally turns to look at her.

"How could you do this, Gem?" The pain in his voice is clear and her face falls in defeat.

"Do what?" Harry's father interrupts. It's in this moment, I realize that I don't even know his name. "Speak to her father before her wedding?"

"You know exactly why you came here, Jack." Harry spits out and takes a step forward, but I keep my feet planted on the floor where I am. "You didn't come here for her."

"And how would you know that, boy?"

With the new space between us, I'm able to get a clear view around Harry. My stomach drops to my feet when I find a very familiar, but cold, set of green eyes looking at me.

Harry's father, Jack, is unbelievably handsome for an older man. He's maybe an inch or two taller than Harry, with a relatively athletic build and a smile that I would think was charming, if I didn't know anything about him.

But to me he looks dead, like a lifeless shell of a person. His eyes have no light, despite being the same shade of emerald as both of his kids. The dimples in his cheeks don't look boyish or endearing the way they do on Harry. The too sweet smile on his face as he looks at me makes the hair on my neck stand up.