Imperfect One-shots

Written by: Ie-maru

Note: ProngingPotter, neat name by the way, thank you for adding my story to alert, it really puts a smile on my face. To any other readers: I'm sorry the last chapter was a bit fast, but I had to rush through it. Even if you're just breezing through this story I would really appreciate a review, so you could tell me what you think I could do better in my writing or give me inspiration to a new piece. Thank you.

Amadea: Cool. Interesting connection between Harry and the spiders. It's got a fairly creepy tone to it what with Harry not knowing he's being abused and the spiders killing the Dursleys, but at the same time that doesn't make the reader dislike the spiders or Harry.

Ie-maru: Thank you for the review Amadea, it is very heartening. I think that some children honestly don't know that they are being abused, simply because they are used to it, so I implied that with Harry. You left some interesting notions in your review, and I'm glad you left them. It's nice to hear what my readers think about it. I'm glad it interested you, and I hope that you and others enjoyed it, creepy or not.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that made over a dollar and has a copyright symbol in its pages. That mostly consists of anything that looks relatively familiar.

Complete Silence

"Silence, like a cancer, grows" –Sounds of Silence

In the Dursley house any sound from an unwanted source was immediately silenced. Every sound from Dudley, the son of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, was smiled upon. Every sound from Harry, the son of James and Lilly Potter, was not. If he wanted to escape being 'silenced', when yells would fall upon young ears and hands upon his flesh, then Harry had to remain silent, and never make a sound.

It was hard at first, as floorboards would creek as he stepped upon them, his breathing was too loud, and even a smile was considered too loud. But, through the years of which he practiced, Harry had achieved complete silence. This seemed to keep him from being silenced, but whenever his relatives saw him they yelled at how freakish it was for him to seemingly appear out of nowhere. This made a new challenge.

Harry loved his silence; it was always there and never hurt him. If it silent, it was safe. But, his relatives were now complaining on how he just appeared, as he didn't make a sound. Harry pondered this, and decided he needed not only a way to be silent, but to not exist in the Dursley's eyes; he needed a way to not be seen when he wished.

So Harry took to the shadows; the same shadows that hid him safely away in his cupboard. He learned to sneak around the house, never seen or heard. The Dursley's thought he ran away, and went on with their pathetic lives. Harry would do the chores, but Petunia always claimed to keep the house clean. Harry would make the meals, but Petunia would claim to have made the delicious cuisine; and really, Harry wouldn't argue if she would make his work easier. Petunia knew he was there, or at least suspected, but she ignored whatever sign he left that he was there. There was happiness in the Dursley household.


'A letter,' Harry pondered, ' for me?'

There was a letter for him in the mail. It was made of heavy paper, parchment from what he could tell. Just because no one saw him, didn't mean he neglected his education any. In fact, Harry would have found himself to be very advanced if he was ever given the chance. He couldn't help it, silence was ingrained into him now, a part of his very being.

Opening the letter from the shadows of the house Harry was surprised at what he read.

'Magic? Owl?' Harry was confused, but he had no one to ask.

Pondering over this new challenge Harry wrote his questions on the back of the letter, and wondered outside. Seeing an owl on his uncle's car he snuck over to it, and reattached the letter, keeping the supplies list with him. The owl seemed surprised when she finally noticed him, after the letter was attached. Harry smiled, and asked her to take it to 'Dumbledore'.


It was a new year at Hogwarts, Harry's fourth year learning magic. At first everyone wanted to know him, but he always disappeared, never making a sound. Soon he was forgotten as people had to put their time into studying and learning the art of magic. Harry had made one friend in Ravenclaw, but only one. Her name was Hermione Granger; she had been transferred to the house of ravens when the lions near tore her apart in their den. No one knew they were friends, because of how elusive Harry was and Hermione wasn't one to brag about it, he was her first friend here, after all.

There was to be a competition this year, from what Dumbledore had announced, and Harry looked forward to watching it.

He and Hermione walked to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and again found a new teacher inside of it. Guivre, the cobra Draco had conjured in their second year and whom Harry had snuck away with afterward, hissed suspiciously under Harry's robe; Harry frowned contemplatively at this, as it could mean a number of things, none of them good.

When the teacher started the class he noticed Harry's proficiency the art, and wandered over to him.

"What's your name lad?" he rumbled, something vile on his breath.

Guivre hissed lowly, and Harry plastered a false smile on.



A/N: I'm pretty happy with this one, and might continue it, but I'm still a little upset that I had to rush it a bit. Drop a review and tell me what you think about it, or give me something to work on next, I wouldn't mind suggestions.

I hope you enjoyed this ProngingPotter, and I hope your alert was well placed with me.