The Obsession of a Death Eater

Chapter 1

Harry leaned back in his wooden chair, dazed eyes scanning the people around him. He was sitting at the Weasley's dinner table, and they were preparing to have their last feast together before Hogwarts started up again for yet another year of lessons. He tutted openly, it was some fraudulent family shit that people took part in when they wanted to pretend everything was alright in the face of adversity and trauma. It was showboating, a gesture to promote popularity, not family; a chance to boast about yourself and pretend to listen to the others around you. Most of the time everyone was fighting in this family, why pretend that everyone was close when they were clearly not?

Harry picked up his water bottle from the table, a muggle brand of vodka inside, and took a sip as Ron sat down next to him. The ginger man glanced at the brunette, a small nod of hello. The boy's hair was wet, which Harry guessed meant he had been for a shower.

"Ronald."

"Harry," Ron responded, smiling as he reached into the middle of the table and grabbed a roll of bread. Harry rolled his eyes. Of course, Ron would go straight for the food, the bloody fat fucking fuck. His hand formed a fist on his knee as he took another sip of his 'water' to soothe himself. No chatter, just eating and eating and eating. "Where did you go earlier? I was looking for you after the Quidditch game. You get tired?"

"You know," Harry frowned, rasing an eyebrow. "There's more to life than sports."

The ginger man paused as he buttered his bread, glancing up at the brunette. Harry stared back. "I know that, Harry. I was just asking. Are you okay?"

"Just dandy."

Ron stared at him for another couple of seconds, and Harry stared back more. Seeming to care more about his food, Ron returned to his bread roll and took a mouthful. Proof of false love, a family meal was all about food...not the appreciation for the people around you like everyone pretended. If Ron was so concerned something was wrong with him, why just let it go? Harry chucked his head back, laughing out loud. He ignored the looks coming from the Weasley family as he slid down in his chair, a grin on his face. "Just fucking dandy."

He just sat like that, watching as the rest of the family joined the table with their artificial attitudes, all smiley and cheery. First, Arthur animatedly talked with his son about something he had learned while studying muggles. Harry rolled his eyes, the man was as stupid as any wizard he had ever met when it came to the subject. Next, it was Ginny, oh the ginger little slut who seemed to be absolutely in love with him. She didn't stand a chance. Third, were Fred and George, who were once again joined at the hip. Harry raised an eyebrow, he was sure that they were fucking. He found himself stiffening at the thought, taking another sip of Vodka to enhance his image for later on when he was alone. The last person to turn up was Molly, her arms full of plates. With a flick of her wand, she sent them out. Everyone thanked her, except for the brunette who just smirked at the laziness of the magic she had used. He noticed her glimpse at him but didn't give her the time of day as he reached forward and slowly drummed his fingers on the table.

"So." Mrs Weasely smiled, she looked around the table to all her children's faces. "Is everyone ready for dinner, or do we need a couple more minutes?"

Everyone answered with a pleasant yes, except for the chosen one who just took another swig of his drink. Molly raised her eyebrow, her gaze examining his posture. She looked almost, compassionate? Harry's heart reeled, how dare she pity him? He went to answer her, but she just turned back to the stove before he could even open his mouth.

He tutted again, ignoring the look that Ginny sent him. She leaned forward, her face essentially in his. He raised an eyebrow, leaning away with repugnance. He made no attempt to hide his dislike of her, she was starting to get more than a little creepy.