dancing on bones (our souls of iolites and emeralds)

Chapter 15

Life is a collection of memories, choices, feelings, and thoughts. It consists of both painful and cherished memories, and a series of good and bad choices. It's an ever turning cycle of good and evil. Life gives a person the potential to be either great or devastating. There are moments in life when people are kind just as there are times they are cruel. Life allows us to think, which means to be given the power of free will, and with it, the possibilities are endless.

It's impossible to put a value on something so priceless.

From the highest king, to the lowliest street rat.

All life is sacred.

All life is precious.

Whether it be their first or second.

//

Harry was killed in the Original.

Killed by a man who deluded himself into thinking that Harry wasn't anything other than a pawn in his chess game.

The Reborn had met a psychopath . Put him behind bars.  A manipulative, abusive, monster of a man who used his "loved one's" however he saw fit.

As far as he was concerned, the two men were no different.

There would not be even a slim possibility of Harry dying.

Only the hell brought to the Dark Lord  by a sibling scorned.

//
The gods watch.

The Mother of All Magick cackles and croons with delight, He will avenge, She whispers, Watch and wait.

//

Kusuo turned his head, staring at the birthday boy. Dudley Dursley was turning three and Vernon had taken that chance to invite everyone from his work to his home. A bid for a promotion. Kusuo knew those. He had been a rising star, a prodigy at the law firm he had worked at. He was been invited to plenty of those.

Dudley was, to put it mildly, over healthy. Excessively so. Kusuo wondered if Petunia knew she was setting her son up as a high risk obesity and heart attack patient. (going off of her lack of thought on the matter, she probably didn't) And then promptly decided it didn't matter. She fed her son too much and fed the twins  'comparatively' little.

'Comparatively' meaning enough for a normal, healthy child of 35 months old.

Kusuo didn't know whether to curse her or thank her for it.

He settled to chew on his cake.

In some ways, Kusuo was adjusting well to his new life. He was finally getting used to their new house (not home, it wasn't home).

The other baby his (their) age immediately took to Harry, who was so bright and filled with so much enthusiasm and joy, but Kusuo kept to himself.

Harry's birthday—their birthday— was coming up. He hadn't noticed until he'd overheard it, courtesy of his aunt and uncle whispering in hearing distance whether they should do something special for their birthday. They didn't.

Well damn. He was going to pretend that didn't sting.

In others, Kusuo failed spectacularly. Hence the conversation he was being forced to listen to.

"My sister's son is a bit special," Petunia told her neighbors over cake and orange juice. "He doesn't speak, just gestures. He doesn't play with anyone except Dudley and his brother. Too shy, too behind his development. We're trying our best but doctors say it's the trauma from the car accident his parents died in."

Kusuo roled his eyes.

Two truths, four  lies. Kusuo is a special child because he is a genius and a phychic. He didn't care to speak in Englisht in the 18 months he had been here and that was his mistake, sure. He doesn't play with anyone, including Dudley or Harry. The real babies, Kusuo humors. There was a difference.

Kuauo isn't shy nor behind his development, there were no doctors involved and Vernon and Petunia never even tried making him speak. Nor Harry for that matter. They talked at them, not to them.

Petunia was an amazing liar in a way only abusers trying to white wash themselves were. Kusuo was reluctantly impressed.

Kusuo made a new plan to correct his over-sight. He picked up his plate with left-over cake and walked over to Dudley. Putting it in front of the boy sitting at the head of the kiddie table, he spoke,

"Diddy, eat," and placed a new spoon in the hands of his shocked cousin. Harry played with their cousin all the time, and the Dursleys ha not stopped him yet. Kusuo had played in Dudley's vicinity before, sure, and humored his attempts to show off any new game he learnt from his 'friends'. He pat his head in encouragement, rubbed his back in relief and made small, physical gestures that ensured Dudley got attached to him in a way only babies can get attached to those who show them affection.

He could not hate Dudley, not when he was only a child, and had yet to actually do anything. Dudley, Kusuo could forgive, as someone who'd been influenced by the authority figures around him. His parents; not so much.

But Kusuo  had never spoken to him before.

This was a new turn in their relationship, an acknowledgement from Kusuo for Dudley. And Dudley, as slow as he was, knew it too.

Dudley Dursley smiled widely, used his fist to get a hold of the offered cake and swallowed it down in the middle of coos and squeals over the cousins bonding. Kusuo looked over to his aunt and ah-

Petunia looked sick.

Kusuo smiled, eyes flashing. Victory never felt sweeter.