Harry Potter Down Under

Eavesdropper (13)

Harry woke to the sound of talking. It wasn't loud, but Harry heard it anyway.

Ha! Told you so. They are talking about you!

The child ignored the voice as he listened to their conversation from the small opening in the door. It was Sans and Frisk, obviously. It's not like there was anybody else in the house.

"I'm worried about him, Sans, he keeps talking to himself. I know his family...hurt him-" Harry flinched at his sibling's words, but he kept listening. "-but I don't think it's because of them that he's like this."

They speak as if something's wrong with you.

"There is something wrong with his soul. Another soul shard. An evil and malevolent one. I'm not sure we can do much for him. Most likely, he will be consumed by the black soul and will have a choice, die or let the soul corrupt his. This soul shard is probably what he keeps talking to, which is worrying."

"Isn't there a way to remove it?"

"Yeah but... it would be extremely painful-"

Harry couldn't hear the rest of the conversation over the voice. The child collapsed to his knees and began sobbing as the hissing laughter got louder and louder in his mind. The lightning scar on his forehead began burning and he clamped his hands over it.

Listen to me next time instead of them next time. I'll protect you from the pain they wish to inflict on you.

"Th-they won't hurt me. They care about me." Harry felt a hand on his back. A bony hand.

That's not true and you know it! Why would they have said that if they weren't going to do it? Haha! You know I'm right, don't you?

"They won't...they can't..." Harry felt himself being lifted into the air. Sans. It must have looked strange, huh? The kid in his arms was probably barely a foot or so shorter than him. Sans was more observant than the others. When Harry stiffened in his arms, he noticed and tried to sooth him.

"It's okay, kid, I'm not going to hurt you. Look, Frisk is worried about you, and so am I. Please, kid, I'm not going to hurt you. And we aren't going to let anybody else."

You don't trust them, do you?

"I do...I trust them. I trust them." Harry relaxed a little in the skeleton's arms to prove himself right.

Then why do you still fear him?

Harry didn't know how to respond. The laughter faded away as the child cried into Sans' arms. The skeleton didn't move, didn't speak, but he did hug the child closer and let him cry into the blue sweater. Papyrus was the first to break the awkward silence.

"IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG, TINY HUMAN?"

"Quit calling him that!" Harry didn't realize at first that he had said it. No, impossible. How could Harry say what the voice was? It had come out as a meer hiss, something none of them had ever heard before. Like a snake.

"I-I'm sorry...I didn't mean it." Harry whimpered again and hugged closer to Sans.

"What was that?" Sans whispered to the young boy in his arms. Harry didn't answer, he just gripped the blue jacket tighter with his scarred hands.

"Harry, please-"

"I don't know!" And, with his outburst, the boy began sobbing again.

Foolish boy. You freak. Do you really think they'll let you in their home again after what you've done? Freak. Garbage. You are as worthless as the trash you dug your food out of! No wonder your last family abandoned you. No wonder your new one drug you away from the closes thing to a mother that you'll ever know.

Harry didn't do anything this time. Why would he. He'd grown use to this voice, telling him to do terrible things. At the Dursleys, the voice had been there always, getting the boy into trouble. The other voice, the woman, on the other hand, had always gotten him out of danger. The two voices could have driven any sane person mad when Harry was a child, always bickering back and forth.

Harry didn't yell at the voice to shut up. He didn't beg for silence. He didn't even let a tear slide as the voice continued talking. He felt everything shift around, but he kept his eyes shut.

You're just as useless as your parents were! Damn drunks. Don't you remember what your aunt and uncle said? They'd died in a car accident. You're just as worthless. Your guardians knew when they abandoned you, and these people know it too. Your own family is either dead, deadbeats, in prison, or monsters like these. Someday, you'll be just like me, a mere thought in the mind of a child. Haha! How far I fell from the glory of immortality!

But, somehow, Harry knew this voice wasn't just a thought. All those nightmares the boy had been cursed with proved so. Red eyes that couldn't possibly be just some thought.

*You were could never be immortal, you nose-less freak.*

You're wrong, the other hand, Harry, you are right. I won't always be a thought. Just as they won't always be kind to you. Don't you remember the story? The one about how monsters were sealed down here? Seven souls needed to break the seal? They've got six souls, they just need one more. So, who will it be? The child with smooth skin, no scars in sight. A beautiful child that cares for all that lives. Or the freak? The boy that nobody wanted, not even his own family. Scars and old bruises and he can barely see. Not to mention the boy talks to the voices in his head and flinches every time somebody raises their hand!

Harry wasn't even fazed, if we are being honest. He was lying on the couch, a warm blanket up to his shoulders. Frisk laid on the other side of the couch, using the end of the long blanket to cover theirself. Harry smiled at his sibling, sure on two things at the moment.

One, Frisk loved them. No matter who told him otherwise. Frisk would never abandon him like everybody else. They loved him and he hoped they always will.

Two, the voice was right. One more soul was needed, and the boy would never let Frisk give theirs. He loved them too much and he refused to let anybody else leave him.

Harry smiled at his sleeping sibling as he snuck out of the house with his sweater in his hands.