Bab 8: A Rift Between Brothers
He tried to summon any sort of instance where he had been thought of or given special privilege over Skylar. He tried, yet he couldn't actually remember an instance. He felt as if he was swiping his hands through mist, attempting to find any sort of memory just out of reach.
(He knew, that there was no such memory. He knew it and yet he was desperate for any.)
'They'll send you away.' his mind whispered, and he finally let himself close his eyes against the searing ache, 'Even the man wanted the cup more than he wanted you.'
The cup- the cup.
"Why do people take everything away from me?" He whispered, voice cracking halfway through as his jaw convulsed. He locked his jaw, biting against tooth as his skull ached and his throat was filled with a quaffle. His chest was rising and falling at uneven flutters-
'I don't-' he glanced at the blurred outline of the door where the voices were discussing his dismissal.
Skylar wasn't being sent away.
A single sob tore itself from his mouth, and a tear fell onto the shiny floor.
'I'm sorry that- I'm sorry i'm not Skylar.'
He shoved the palms of his fists into his eyes and twisted. It hurt but it somehow gave some clarity to the situation.
He had tried, he had tried many times over and over to gain his parents attention. They were always too busy to listen to him or read to him like they used to.
They were always busy with Skylar.
("Bad people want to hurt Skylar so mum and dad have to help him, i'm sorry Harry maybe in a little bit.")
(It was always in a little bit.)
Harry hung his head and with small gulping breaths and shaking hands he made the slow journey up the stairs alone. He always had done everything alone, and he would feel weird if someone was to help him now.
Because in the end, he wasn't Skylar.
(And Skylar was the one who got good things.)
.....
"Harry!"
Harry bolted awake, scrambling and sluggishly struggling to stay upright on his bed. He failed as the mattress teetered once again, and with a warbling yelp he slipped out from under the covers onto the floor.
He heard snickering as he gingerly rubbed the spot on his skull which had collided with the ground. Uprighting and repositioning his lopsided sleeping apparel, he spotted impish hazel eyes and dark brown hair peering at him from over the blankets.
"Gotcha, didn't I?" Skylar snickered, straightening his back to peer down at still tired twin.
"Why-" Harry started, giving a small cough to clear his throat, "Why would you do that?" He winced, and cracked his back loudly.
Skylar didn't seem fazed by the loud popping, instead he shifted so both feet would dangle over the edge, socks swinging nearly close enough to hit Harry's face.
"Mum and Dad wanted us downstairs," Skylar shrugged, "They told me to get you."
"And you couldn't have just knocked?" Harry muttered under his breath, getting to his feet.
Skylar grinned and gave a wink before hopping off the bed and nearly skipping to the door, "See ya downstairs!" Skylar's face lit up, "Mum made pancakes! Our favourite!"
"Your favourite," Harry corrected, already grabbing a new shirt to change into.
Skylar shrugged in the doorframe, "Same thing."
Harry rolled his eyes and found a pair of pants. Glancing at the door, Skylar had already left, and without the decency of actually closing the door.
Harry changed quickly, sparing one look in a nearby mirror (there was no hope for trying to flatten the chaos of his scalp), before slipping into the hallway towards the stairs.
The sudden daylight and brightness of the estate made him almost forget entirely the night before. It felt like a dream, too implausible to be reality yet there was some sort of tint to it which caused him to doubt if he had only imagined it.
Each step caused some sort of tickling uncertainty to rear once more.
Had he actually imagined it?
(Had that man been right?)
"Harry!" Lily blinked, peeking through the archway and looking back at the table, "There's pancakes if you would-"
"I'm okay." Harry mumbled, walking into the kitchen and sliding into the one seat that was available.
There was a chalice missing on the table.
"Is there something important?" Harry asked quietly, swinging his feet under his chair. Skylar looked up from where he sat across from Harry, blinking with doe eyes and syrup running down his chin.
"Yeah!" Skylar blurted, swallowing a large clump of dough with a small cringe, "I got this!" Skylar gushed, reaching down into a pocket before pulling out a figurine.
The small fist sized griffin gave a miniature roar, flapping its small wings to create tiny gusts strong enough to knock over a blueberry. It paced on the tabletop, totally enrapturing Skylar's attention.
"Where did you get that?" Harry asked quietly. It gave a little snap with its beak and pounced on a chunk of pancake Skylar offered it.
"Dumbledore!" Skylar chirped, eyes lighting up quickly, "You should have seen him- he's the headmaster at that one school!"
"Hogwarts, sweetie," Lily scoffed playfully, "You'll go there too one day, Sky."
....
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