inheritedpain | IC INBOX: PRISMATICA

The sneaky, invisible kind.

( he gestures back to it. )

That's an invisibility cloak. My father's, as a matter of fact.

( he imagines jin ling might take a little more curiosity in it at that, so he doesn't make any reaches to take it from him. try it on, an encouraging nod from harry says. it doesn't matter that it doesn't match his clothes. everything matches when it's invisible.

which is also not suggestive.

huffing a little laugh, harry takes a small bag of jellybeans out of the paper, crumbling it up in his hand while he opens the package. )

At home, some of them are pretty disgusting, yeah. Vomit, earwax, grass ... ( he shudders, but offers jin ling a small grin. ) They seem safe here, though. It's candy. ( he takes another step in, purposely close, before he just leans in and presses a kiss to jin ling's temple. ) It's good to see you, by the way. Want to go for a walk?

[ When Harry draws closer, Fairy steps up to just lean her body into his legs as greeting. ]

Invisibility?? [ Now there's a type of magic even the Yiling Patriarch hadn't achieved. He frowned back at the robe - cloak? - before trying to shrug it on over his shoulders. It didn't match at all and clearly needed to be dry cleaned but he would deal with that later. He caught the "my father's" and felt something clench in his chest, a bit, a vice grip at his heart that he tried to smother down and focus on talk of candy. ]

Well I'd rather not eat any of those things, but if they're better he--

[ He froze as lips met his temple, and completely unbidden there came a heat behind his eyes again, his lower lip trembling a little. Kindness was too much, right now. ]

I... [ Swallow. Breathe. Have some fucking dignity. ] ... Yeah. Walking.

[ Just don't call him on the fact that he looks like he's about to burst into tears. ]

( harry leans partway down to give fairy a rub in greeting, though he doesn't think she'll be especially bothered if his attention is currently focused on her master. )

Take a look.

( from the neck down? jin ling's body seems to have disappeared out of thin air entirely. to any passerby, he just looks like a floating head, although a remarkably distraught one.

harry knows the urge to run away when things get tough. invisibility? it helps a lot. if jin ling feels like bolting, he'll just have to make room under there for two.

the cloak isn't doing the best job at concealing what doesn't wish to be seen at this point — even less so as harry fondles around the part of the middle, pulling it back far enough to find jin ling's hand, interlacing their fingers. harry keeps his gaze forward as he sets them off in a random path, still holding the bag of jellybeans out for jin ling to try one. )

You know, that cloak has really come in handy for me. ( it's fairly obvious — harry just filling in the white noise, so jin ling doesn't feel pressured to speak. ) Once, I used it to sneak into the restricted section of my school's library. And ... once I made the school bully and his goons think they'd been haunted by a mischievous ghost. ( he laughs. ) Once — and this is a bit involved, so stay with me — I was involved in a legendary tournament at my school, and used that cloak to find out the first task I had to do was face a dragon. A dragon! ( shrugging his shoulders. ) Of course, with my luck I managed to get the nastiest one.

Still, I survived. ... Clearly.

( he trails off a little at that end, inexplicably distraught. keep moving — )

Actually, Hagrid helped me with that one. I can't believe I haven't mentioned Hagrid to you before — he's my school's Groundskeeper, and Magical Creatures Professor. He's about the friendliest half-giant you'd ever meet. Genius with animals.

( and hedwig died to protect him. he goes quiet again. )

... You know, back at home ... a had my own Fairy. ( he smiles down at her. ) A snowy white owl. Hedwig. Hagrid got her for me, for my eleventh birthday. She was the first birthday present I ever got. ( he really doesn't have any memories that were good and stayed good, does he? apologetically, he smiles at jin ling. ) Sorry. Went on a bit of a tangent. Do you like the jellybeans?

[ Jin Ling looked down as he was bade, and - indeed - everything under him had disappeared. If he hadn't been warned he might have jumped out of his skin. Even as it was, it was hugely disconcerting. He was still frowning at it when Hary's hand moved, pulling aside the edge of the cloak to find Jin Ling's hand. He felt that piercing heat behind his eyes again and swallowed thickly. Come on, Jin Ling.

He let Harry take his hand, let their fingers intertwine, and then he squeezed them firmly between his own, falling silent as he let the other boy talk and tried to calm himself down in the mean time.

He couldn't help but wonder the strange monsters that existed in Harry's world. How it so often sounded so similar to his own and yet so foreign at the same time. Dragons, Giants...

But even in his own dismay he keeps picking up traces of Harry's, and his grip tightens in fractions with every mention. He aimlessly and almost unthinkingly chewed on the jellybeans, not even fully registering their taste until Harry asked him. ]

... They're sweet. Chewy.

[ And he's still eating them, so. Yes, probably. But his attention is elsewhere. ]

... Fairy was a gift, too. My little uncle --

[ Oh. He'd been so distracted, for half a second, his heart twisting to worry about Harry rather than himself, trying to navigate the twists and turns of a foreign world. But as soon as he tried to speak of Fairy--

The first hot tear fell before he could stop it, and he hissed and raised his hand - still clutching Harry's - to scrub it quickly off his cheek. ]

Sorry. Sorry, I warned you that I--

Just --

Tell me about the dragon.

( he's careful about it, paying enough mind to let jin ling move his hand, but not enough that he chases the tear away himself — acknowledgement is a pill hard swallowed, at least to harry, and he finds distraction a better course to lead up to whenever jin ling wants to talk about whatever happened. harry nods firmly, taking himself back to his fourth year. )

It's — the Triwizard Tournament. Like I said, it's ... it's legendary, three different magic schools all coming together to compete for the Goblet of Fire. ( his voice takes on a whimsical flair, trying to audibly deliver jin ling somewhere else. ) They each get a champion. There's Fleur Delacour, a beautiful girl from Beauxbatons. Then there's Viktor Krum, quidditch star from Durmstrang. Then ... ( he tries to keep the heaviness out of his voice. ) Cedric Diggory. The brave boy from Hogwarts.

That's my school. There was a bit of foul play involved, and so Hogwarts ended up with two chosen champions — Cedric and myself. You can imagine no one was too happy about that, but there was nothing much to be done. The four of us are to go through three tasks, and the person who comes out on top in the end is the winner. Pretty simple.

But first task is the dragon. All of us get to pick one out of a hat to chose what kind of dragon we'd be up against. I pulled a Hungarian Horntail, naturally considered to be one of the most dangerous dragon breeds. Our goal was just to retrieve a golden egg from its keeping, so on my turn I summoned my broomstick and led it astray, snapping its chained collar on accident and taking it on a bit of a flight, which eventually proved a success. ( turning to face jin ling a bit, he pulls down the collar of his threadbare shirt, revealing a claw mark on his shoulder. ) Did get a good swipe at me, though. Still, I tied for first place with Viktor on that one.

After that it was ... ah, merpeople in Black Lake. Not before having to attend the Yule Ball, though.

[ Again, there is a deep feeling of gratitude when Harry doesn't bring attention to it - though he's starting to wonder if it's because the other boy is too used to being on the other side, too.

He's not sure he wants Harry to share this in common with him. Not sure he would wish this on anyone.

He sniffs once as he listens, blinking the tears back as he tried to find some semblance of balance. He didn't totally understand everything Harry told him, but that was okay. The point was that Harry was telling him a story at all - that he was offering Jin Ling this kindness, this distraction, when it would be far too easy to just carve a chunk out of him instead. Laugh at him.

Instead he offered pieces of himself, and Jin Ling's eyes glanced at the scar as it was barred. He wondered how many Harry had. ]

Your school sounds like an intense place. [ It would be wry if he wasn't quite so upset. As it was he just reached out with his free hand, aimlessly brushing over the claw mark before pulling Harry's clothes back into place over it. He needed better clothes. Idiot. That shirt was going to fall apart... ]

... There's no way you'd go to a ball dressed like this. [ Muttered. An attempt at a joke. A pause, and then-- ]

How can you fight dragons if your clothes would fall off you just by looking at you? You-- can't you take care of yourself for five minutes?

[ It was all coming out as a grumble, his brows starting to pinch as his fingers tightened into Harry's shirt. Harry was offering nothing but kindness and all Jin Ling could do in return was berate him. Idiot.

He swallowed, his face twisting miserably. ]

... Is that offer to join your world instead still open? I don't think fighting a dragon sounds too bad, compared.

Edited 2020-03-21 05:21 (UTC)

( they come to a natural pause as jin ling inspects him, harry turning to face him to better accept the critique. he isn't especially affected by it, seeing it for what it is — jin ling can't afford himself the sanctity of being sad, so he's taking it out of whatever's closest to him. that said, it's not like it's an unfair assessment of harry potter. he isn't even technically poor, here or back home, thanks to the fortune his parents left him after they died. it's just — more comfortable, more instinctive to be thrifty. to wear his shoes down until there are holes in his soles, to keep beef jerky in a bag under his mattress for the days when hunger seems more natural than being full.

he offers jin ling a cracked, half smile, lifting up their handhold so his knuckles are pressed against harry's chest. )

Yes.

( dragons are not the worst offenders back at home. but that which is light can never be touched by dark, so jin ling will never go home with him.

squeezing his hand, harry lets go, leaning forward to steal the cloak off his shoulders, tossing it back in his pouch once it's clear. throwing an arm around jin ling's shoulders, he side hugs him close, setting off in a direction with a bit more enthusiasm. )

We'll take care of me, and we'll take care of you. It's how friendship works, A-Ling. ( hermione would have quite a bit to say in the irony of harry j potter saying this. ) Here. We'll go pick up copious amounts of junk food and candy, maybe some takeout and a movie to watch, and then we'll go back to my apartment where no one can find you, and you can take a break from being Young Master Jin for a night.

I have plenty more stories to tell you, if you just want to listen — about the Forbidden Forest, and time travel, and the Order of the Phoenix — or if you'd like to talk about what's bothering you, I'm quite good at listening myself. Lets just get home first. Are you hungry?

[ Unbidden, a tear streaks down his face, wedged loose from impossible kindness, and he doesn't bother to scrub it away this time.

It's how friendship works. Half of him wants to ask 'Is it?' Because how would he know? How much has he ever done for anyone else. How many friends has he ever had? Yuri, Sizhui... They gave so much to him, but what did he ever do for them?

It wasn't like he'd had the opportunity to ever have friends before this place.

He sniffed, miserably, and nodded. Someone other than Young Master Jin, for a night. That would be good. He almost felt bad as the cloak was taken from his shoulders - normally he would be much more excited by the prospect of messing around getting into trouble while invisible, but.

Everything was a bit too much, tonight. ]

Not really. But I'll eat.

[ His eyes focused on Harry's feet. ]

... I don't even know where I'd start. But I... you can always tell me stories. I don't mind.

( so harry does regale him, on the walk to a convenience store just before his apartment building — the mighty tale of buckbeak and draco malfoy's arrogance which had almost gotten the poor creature killed, had hermione not been so clever to use her time turner to save him. harry tells him of riding on the hippogriff's back, soaring over a crystal lake, high in the sky far enough that he could taste the clouds, the water of rain slipping through his fingers. he tells him of the tears he spilled, when he thought buckbeak had died — and how pleased he was, to have the chance to save his life.

and in between asking jin ling his preference between ho-hos and twinkies, holding them up to see the general opinion, he mentions a name. )

And, in the end, us saving Buckbeak's life is what allowed my godfather to escape imprisonment. ( he hasn't said his name in awhile, beyond what dreams he has when he's permitted a moment's rest. ) ... Sirius Black. I think you would've —

( no, the past tense is what hurts. he shakes his head. some other time.

he holds jin ling on the walk to the pizza place across the street, picking up their order with his free hand, finding that discomfort more bearable than the idea of dropping jin ling's hand. )

I had spent most of that year hating the man, as a matter of fact. He was arrested for conspiring with the Dark Lord, against my parents, leading to their deaths. ( he shakes his head, and up the staircase they go. ) Wasn't him, actually. Actually ... he turned out to be. Really ... something, I guess.

( he doesn't mention the hope he had. the life he wanted to live. the promises sirius had made him before bellatrix lestrange pulled an unforgivable curse on him.

all he does is open the door to his apartment, newly furnished thanks to jin ling but still not much for a home, and flashes him a smile. )

I was going to say before, you would've really, really liked him. He was ... ( a little defeated, ) he was like a second dad, to me.

( was. leading inside, he sets the pizza down, taking bags from jin ling filled with food that's terrible for you, and soda that isn't much better. )

Home, finally. Make yourself comfortable.

Edited 2020-03-21 22:02 (UTC)

[ He listened.

Jin Ling wasn’t, by any real measure, someone most would consider a quiet person. But it was easy to let Harry tell him stories - fantastical and strange and yet Jin Ling never considered disbelieving them.

Especially when they kept feeling way too familiar to his own.

The word “furnished” was a stretch, really - he’d half bullied Harry into getting the basic necessities- a bed, for example - and was determined to keep outfitting him better as time went on. But at the moment it wasn’t forefront of his mind.

Instead, he was grappling with the uncomfortable awareness that somehow he and Harry’s lives had some disconcerting parallels. He wondered, idly, if maybe their worlds weren’t as far apart as he’d originally thought. Could similar people and similar traumas repeat through different worlds...?

Or was life just always this terrible and complicated.

He hands over the bags and then takes off his jacket so that he can roll up his sleeves and start cleaning the table. ]

He sounds a bit like Uncle Wei.

So I... [ Ah. Choking up again. ]

I’d probably like him.

[ He swallowed, the hand that had been scrubbing the table clean stilling. ]

... Harry, do you ever get the weird feeling sometimes that we... whenever you tell me stories, I feel like—

Do you get the weird feeling like maybe things happened to us in similar ways? Not exactly the same, but— your god father, your parents —

( there's a breakfast bar constructed into the apartment, a quarter wall that flashes a view into the kitchen. this two is severely under furnished, but there is a thrifted stool harry had found in the alley behind his apartment — it doesn't match anything, but it gives him a place to eat cereal in the morning. he takes a seat on it crosslegged, fishing out a tub of ice cream from their selection of snacks, and digging in.

no one here can yell at him about spoiling his dinner. )

Hm?

( he faces jin ling, watching him futz about. it doesn't take a genius to see the nerves in his shoulders, tense with tragedy. sometimes harry looks in the mirror, and sees this action reflected back at him. )

I think ... ( taking a bite of ice cream saves him a little time while he gets his thoughts straight, nodding at once. ) I think terrible things have happened to both of us. Terrible, unfair things.

And ... despite only knowing you for a short while, I do feel close to you, because of that. I've never really — met anyone who I could talk to, about certain things. Certain things I'd only say to someone who ... understands what it's like, I guess. ( he gives a shy smile down to his ice cream, fiddling with the spoon. ) Being with you feels really good, Jin Ling. I — like you. And — if we've both been through these terrible things, and you're as you are ... I think maybe, I might not be as terrible as I think.

Does that make any sense?

( he shakes his head, shy again, taking off his glasses to clean them. nervous habits. )

All that to say ... We do have a lot in common. Bad things, yes. ... But there's good, too, in understanding. Sometimes it's hard to see through the fog, but you've a soul of gold. I can see it clear as day from here.

[ The non-existent stain under Jin Ling's cloth suddenly becomes extremely important, and he starts scrubbing at it with renewed vigour, his face slowly turning redder by the second. ]

You--

How can you just say things like that out loud?? [ Grumbling to himself as he flushes even darker. ] For the record you definitely aren't terrible, at all, and if you say that again I will actually shake you, just--

Ugh, you can't say things like that, what am I supposed to do with that?? [ Just. Gonna aggressively attack this non-existent dirt, thanks.

His chest felt impossibly tight, a very stark mix of emotions that he can't really pull apart overwhelming him. ]

I- I like you too. Okay? Obviously. Why the hell else would I be here. [ He's going to die. ]

I just--

I would rather we didn't have some things in common. That's all.

I'm saying —

( he breathes out a rushed huff, putting his glasses back on his nose and setting the ice cream aside, so he can cross the room to jin ling, ever so lightly setting his hands on his shoulders. from this position, facing his back, he can't see the expression he's making, whether he's crying and gone numb to the pain. but. maybe it's better like that. a reprieve, for harry to wrap his arms around his shoulders, pulling him back to his chest.

another breath. he truly is no good at this, but — for jin ling, he will try. )

We can't control the things we have in common, but we have each other, now. Whatever happened, you can open up to me.

I promise to listen.

[ Kindness is not something Jin Ling feels like he's ever going to grow used to, despite how much of it he is surrounded by, these days. Sizhui, Yuri, Harry - even Hanguang-jun and his Uncle and Wei Wuxian - so much more kindness than he's usually subjected to.

It makes him choke up a little.

He lets out a long breath. Just. Get it out, Jin Ling. ]

I spend my whole life thinking that - that someone who had been killed when I was young was responsible for killing my family. [ He can't bear to even put Wei Wuxian's name to it, now. ]

It wasn't true. My...

My little uncle --

He just told me everything. How he killed my father. My cousin. My grandfather. How he framed it on a man who was innocent of everything, raising me to hate him and making my Uncle hate him, too. He --

[ He swallowed again, thickly, his eyes growing hot. ]

I don't know what I'm supposed to do. He is one of the two men who raised me. They're the closest thing to parents I had. But he killed his son, and I---

[ He cut off, grinding his teeth together tightly. ]

( he just clutches jin ling tighter through the progression of his words, not realizing he was holding a breath until he feels his lungs weigh like stones in his chest. he had theorized, boys as broken as they are can only be weighed down so violently by heavier subjects, but — not like this. these stations people put us in, choices they made, his uncle dragging jin ling down into an inherently broken world of his own design. damn it. damn him. what consolidation is there?

at least he didn't kill you?

no, fuck it. harry has a heat rising up the back of his neck, an anger in him that bursts out at the most rancid and awful of times. hermione and ron get so scared of him when he's like this, but he can't help it.

so many things are unfair in life, but the preventable, the man made and human born — they piss him off. distrust. disloyalty. lying. at least voldemort never pretended to be an angel, never acted like he wanted anything more than to kill harry. he grits his teeth and the word that leaves his mouth is pure venom, icy and deadly. )

Traitor.

( but. he can't — it's not about him. it's not even about his feelings for jin ling, how much it hurts to see him in pain because his uncle is a monster. all that matters are the shattered pieces of him, still in tact, that harry can sweep together. that he can protect, from further monstrosity. harry sighs and thumps his forehead on the back of jin ling's head, taking a deep breath. )

Did he say why?

[ Maybe that icy cold voice should be scarier than it is, but instead the low hissed word actually generates a rush of fondness. Maybe the anger on his behalf reminds him Jiang Cheng, or maybe it's just nice that someone cares that much.

Just as much as it hurts to put that word to Jin Guangyao and know that it's true.

He felt Harry's head thump gently against his own, and raised an arm to put over Harry's, pressing it tight against him. ]

... Sort of. In so far as you can really explain something like that. His position. Power. He killed my cousin to stop rumours from being generated about his condition, killed my father out of jealousy and wanting to secure power...

What does it matter why? There's no why that would have ever made it okay.

And here I am, and I can't even...

[ He wilted a little, blinking back tears as his fingers drew tight into a fist. ]

I should do something about it, but I can't. I owe it to my family to get vengeance for them, but any time I think about it-- [ He cuts off, absolutely miserably. ]

He —

( and his voice sounds different, even from the thrust of anger before. it sounds ... dual edged, echoed, like there's something more than just harry speaking to him now.

"he."

deserves it. he should die. he said the words. he hurt you. say it. cast the spell. mean it. avada — )

Ah.

( harry hisses, abruptly drawing his arms back and lifting a hand up to his scar, pulsing under his fingertips. he shakes his head, and the heir of slytherin's voice is once again kept at bay, just beyond a horizon that is always dawning on harry. he's mortified honestly, breathing shallow. )

Sorry. ( he takes a tired sit on the couch beside them, still holding his head with one hand, while his other reaches out to touch jin ling's wrist, apologetically. ) A-Ling.

( he looks up and his eyes are brighter than before, green in conjunction to the bloodshot whites, pulling back tears, fear, anger, the lot of it. he shakes his head, and grips him tighter. )

I don't know your father, or your cousin, or your grandfather, but —

His blood isn't worth dirtying your hands. You're better than him.

He shouldn't die. He should rot.

( peter pettigrew and jin guangyao have one thing in common — they're both rats. )

Edited 2020-03-24 01:12 (UTC)

[ It's the abrupt withdrawal that pulls Jin Ling out of himself for half a second - feeling hurt and confused at the same moment, he turns a little too quickly, just in time to see Harry pressing his hand to his scar and then shake his head.

The hurt disappears, worry taking its place, as he watches Harry apologize to him.

But watching Harry's face he gets the impression that maybe this isn't fully about him at all.

Maybe the parallels just run too deep.

He grimaces and then sits down on the couch next to him, taking Harry's hand in his. ]

Come on, you don't have to apologize.

[ He looked a little miserably at Harry, his face twisting. ]

Are you okay? Are you hurt?

[ Because that was easier to talk about than the fact that he didn't think he could leave Jin Guangyao to rot, even if he should. ]

( old habits are sometimes so hard to fight. he feels it — the natural urge to snap and yell i'm fine in jin ling's direction, because anytime anyone asks those questions, they don't really mean them. how many times has he yelled at hermione that she doesn't understand, that she wouldn't get it, that his problems are so far out of reach from anyone's grasp they could never hope to get what he's going through?

but it's jin ling and it's different. because he does get it, at least to a certain extent.

a smile peels up his lips, insincere and sad, and he turns his hand to squeeze his back. )

No. And yes.

( smiling, because it's always true. on the happiest day of his life, you could ask harry again and the answers will always be the same — i'm not okay and i am hurt.

it's just not especially important. licking his lips, harry rubs a thumb over his knuckles, dropping his hand from his forehead a little awkwardly. )

Just. Tell me one thing, and then I'll drop it. ( frowning, ) He wasn't planning to kill you, was he?

( because then harry is going to think about dumbledore and. that's a can of worms he thinks he'll be content to never get into in his entire life, ever. )

... I don’t know.

[ He answered it honestly, heavily, before he brought up his free hand to brush Harry’s wild bangs back from his face, trailing fingertips over his scar. ]

He said No. I asked him. If he would have killed me, instead, if Rusong had been perfect. If he’d been the heir he needed.

... he said he wouldn’t have, but how much can that possibly mean when he killed his own son?

( ah. there's an indescribable look on harry's face, although it's becoming a bit more normal between the two of them — understanding and aching, a vicious cycle that just repeats and repeats. harry can get as angry as he wants through this, but it doesn't change how hard it is to be in jin ling position. he forgave dumbledore, too. who knew his parents were going to die. who knew he'd probably die along with them, who enabled and desired his own death despite —

he doesn't like to, doesn't want to think about it. a sad smile and he leans in, knocking his forehead against jin ling's neck. )

Nothing.

( you can't trust someone like that. and yet —

he huffs, nosing in closer to him. )

You're right. I really hate all that we have in common.

See? I told you so.

[ He huffs a little but he leans back, feeling weirdly empty. Not a bad empty, but like he’d just drained himself and now was left floating.

He sighed, reaching out to grab one of Harry’s hands and lace their fingers together. ]

There’s got to be some good things in common, too, you know. It can’t just be death all the way down.

( squeezing his hand, harry changes how he's resting on him — instead just letting his head tuck onto the height of his shoulder, nearly snuggled against his side. eventually he's going to go grab their junk food and make jin ling try it all out. just. give him a minute. )

Well, there's Hedwig and Fairy.

( gun to his fucking head he could not tell you a single good memory he's got )

That's all I can think of.

Maybe ... have you ever had a werewolf for a teacher?

[ He gives a huff that isn’t quite a laugh. Yeah. They are a bit pathetic, huh. ]

I don’t even know what a werewolf is. And I haven’t gone to Gusu for the lectures so I- my teachers were mostly tutors, that sort of thing.

[ A pause. ]

... we both fly, I guess. Though you really should get a sword.

Man by day, wolf under the full moon. ( matter of factly. he turns his face up towards him, still smushed on his shoulder. ) What's Gusu?

I've only used a sword once, and it wasn't my finest. ( he nudges his side, slightly. ) That's a thought. Maybe we've fought similar creatures, before? You mentioned fairies once.

IC INBOX: PRISMATICA

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