It was a Saturday when Harry woke up. Not that it was weird or anything since yesterday was a Friday. He heard a loud bang coming from the lower floor of his house. It must have been his parents again.
Harry covered his face when he realized that he hadn't made contact with his parents since skipping the day at school. Harry wanted to smother himself with his own pillow before going downstairs and seeing the disappointed looks in their eyes. Coming up with excuses was hard, especially when his parents don't really care about what he has to say.
Harry swung his legs out of bed. There was no point delaying what was inevitably going to happen. He felt a cool breeze on his legs, a huge contrast from his warm cosy bed. He spotted two pillows lying across the room that didn't survive the night. Harry likes pillows.
He slowly opened his bedroom door, cursing the loud squeak that it produced. One summer it just appeared, and he assumed it would go away in the winter. It never did.
Harry stayed as still as possible, hoping that not breathing would help his case. Just when he thought he was in the clear, he heard a shrill voice yelling his name from upstairs.
"Harry! Did I hear you up there? Come down, it's already almost noon!" His mother's voice echoed through the stairwell as it resonated through the house. Harry followed the source of the voice, reluctantly heading down to where his parents were waiting for him.
Harry managed to keep up his relationship with the bottom step. This time, it was not a graceful fall. He tripped on the last step, and it sent him flying into a glass decorative table across from the stairs. The corner of a table is quite painful.
"Harry stop fooling around. Come sit down." His father was in his place at the head of the marble table. He had a neatly folded newspaper sitting in front of him and wore an obvious frown on his face. Harry could see the wrinkles on his lips as he stressed the frown further. The fingers tapping on the table indicated a deep impatience for his son.
The scared boy felt a lump in his throat. That was never a good expression, yet, that was one of the only ones he ever saw in his father. Harry nervously slid into the wooden chair to the side of the table. He wouldn't dare ever sitting at the other end. He was afraid his father would take it as a challenge or some other twisted up theory.
His fingers were shaking as he tried to twiddle them. It was really an excuse to not look at his father. Harry didn't understand why he was so nervous, this was his father. This was the man he had known for his entire life. Harry gave himself a short pep talk to ease the frightened emotions in his mind.
"I heard you missed most of the day yesterday." His father said, eerily calm. The fear was back. The pep talk he had given himself probably lasted all of five seconds.
"Yea dad." Harry gulped. "Something came up in English."
"Harry this is not acceptable and you know this. I don't care if the teacher showed up without a head. There are no reasons that explain this behaviour." His voice was quiet. It was calm. somehow, it was terrifying.
People with arthritis say they can feel the rain coming. Harry could feel a bad situation brewing up.
"I know dad, I'm sorry... I really am."
"Who caused you to do this?" It was a demand.
"No one. It was just me, I don't know what I was thin-"
"Was it Louis?" Harry didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before his father's words sent ice down his spine. Harry could hear his mother, who he didn't even notice, slip out of the room discreetly.
Harry's breathing pattern was interrupted by a sudden hitch of breath then he couldn't control. He followed it with a short sigh that was once again interrupted by a sharp gasp. He couldn't breathe. He was struggling to understand the proper way to get air into his system. This was actually giving him breathing problems. Louis was actually giving him chest pains.
How did his father even know about Louis? Harry had a crushing realization that he had failed. The only reason that he had agreed to leave Louis is so that his father would never find out about him. Now his father was suspicious, and Harry had to stop him right now. He couldn't let his father hurt Louis any more than he's already hurting. Which is a lot all thanks to Harry.
The guilt was coming back. The memories of yesterday morning were flooding his mind. Lost in thought, Harry didn't realize that it has been a while since his father had presented the question.
"No, Louis didn't do anything." Harry managed to say his five-word sentence without a single stutter. His fingers were crossed, hoping it was good enough for his father. It wasn't.
"Stop lying."
"I wasn't lying."
"Last chance Harry. Tell me, I can take care of it." His father was leaning toward him now, getting awfully close.
"Louis didn't do anyth-"
Harry heard it before he felt it. He heard the sound echo through the kitchen much like his mother's voice had earlier. His father left the room before Harry's body allowed him to feel the sting of what had just occurred. His father was nowhere to be seen, the only evidence he was ever there was a large angry mark on his son's left cheek.
Harry stayed seated at the table unable to process what had happened. The curly hair hanging in front of his face blocked the view of his mother sadly standing in the open doorway. By the time he had the confidence to lift his chin up, she was gone. Harry didn't cry. He wasn't angry, he wasn't sad. He wasn't anything really.
"Jackie will be here in 20 minutes. Make yourself presentable." Harry didn't hear his father coming, but he sure heard the echo of his footsteps leaving the kitchen.
~
There wasn't a knock on the door before Jaqueline appeared in his bedroom. Harry assumed that his parents let him in since they were such good friends now apparently. He didn't want to be near his girlfriend. There was no confirmation, but Harry knew it was her fault.
"You're still working with Louis." The words flew out of her mouth naturally. The disappointed tone matched her ugly frown perfectly.
"Yea, I am." Harry didn't really know what else to say. He was still working with Louis after all.
"I told you to stop it."
"I tried." It wasn't a lie. The boy confronted Mr Wikards about the partnership after all.
"You didn't try hard enough." The blonde girl accused Harry right away without knowing what actually happened. Harry stared at her with a cold, emotionless expression.
"You don't know that."
"He's just going to bring down your mark." Jaqueline's voice stayed calm as she quickly changed the subject. Harry couldn't find proof that she was being anything but genuine.
"He actually knows a lot about our topic." Harry fought back. Maybe if she realizes that Louis could be good for his mark, she'll accept it.
"Harry, you're being naive. They're probably all fake facts so that he'll like you." Her voice almost sounded sympathetic. She leaned her head slightly to the left as she was speaking, looking up at Harry with seemingly convincing eyes.
"They're not." Harry wasn't buying into any of this. The facts Louis had were right; Harry had even written them down himself.
"Then he probably read your notes while you weren't looking so that you didn't think that he was useless."
"Why do you care so much about Louis anyways?"
"I don't. I care about you."
"Barely," Harry said the word almost silently. It was a whisper that just escaped his lips, never meant for human ears.
It's strange how quiet a room can get. Harry's room was so quiet that it was loud. The sound was blaring through the walls and the doors. The boy rested his curly head against his bed, trying to drown out the sound with one of his many pillows. The deafening silence got cut through by Harry's own voice.
"And what if I don't?" Harry's voice was raspy and low. "What if I don't leave him."
Jaqueline stared at his boyfriend lying on the bed. 'Leave him.' The words sounded so much like a breakup, but it was only after Harry spoked them that he realized this. It hurt him to think of Louis like a breakup. It hurt more than it probably should have.
The room stayed silent for a long time after that. What scared Harry the most is that Jaqueline wasn't staying silent because she was worried. She wasn't at a loss for words, she just looked at Harry with a sad smile, like a vet that needed to put down the family dog. She was testing the waters.
"I can tell your parents more about Louis." She finally said. Harry's ears perked up at the feminine voice. He debated in his head, acting out each possible situation, everything he could possibly say.
"You have nothing else against him." Harry came to that realization. She must be stuck now. As to reassure Harry's worst nightmares, she smiled.
"There's a whole world of possibilities if you don't let the truth restrain you." She smiled a reassuring smile. But it was the wrong kind of reassuring smile. Either that or she was really doing it wrong. Harry did not feel reassured whatsoever.
Harry shifted in his bed uncomfortably. His cheek tingled from the memory of earlier. Harry imagined Louis in the same situation, face red from a heavy hand. He imagined Louis, not being able to sleep at night with the fear of what lived outside his bedroom door. Louis, not able to eat because anything just made him sick to his stomach.
"Would my parents really be willing to hurt Louis?" Harry pondered out loud. As much as it was just a thought, it was also a genuine question directed to Jaqueline. She probably knew his parents better than he did.
"Honestly Harry, I don't know." It was the first time that she was showing a little bit of uncertainty and that was reassuring for Harry. He nodded.
"But now your parents know about Louis. On the topic of hurting him..." She sighed after her voice trailed off, disintegrating into the air. She looked almost regretful, which Harry didn't know if she deserved to feel that way. "For your sake, I hope you never have to find out."
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