Mirkys Drabble Chain

Title: Drabble 27 - It Wasnt

Pairing: Wyatt Halliwell . Harry Potter

Fandom: Harry Potter Xover Charmed

It wasn't the cutting, it wasn't the forced starvation, it wasn't the attempted at hanging himself, it wasn't even his screaming in their faces.

No.

The moment James and Lily finally paid attention to their child was when he arrived on their doorstep proclaiming himself married and he wasn't ever going to return to the cold and hateful atmosphere that was never home. Even then they couldn't see past the angry pale blue eyes of a man.

A man who called himself Wyatt Halliwell.

A man.

Their child was a homosexual and it was their turn to cut into him with words, hang themselves in their hatred for all things unnatural, and prayed that the child within their child would starve so it could be aborted naturally, their words were scathing as they screamed their disapproval - how could he?

Only Harry stared back, fingers curled tightly with Wyatt's as the 'King of Magic' strained to keep with his teachings. These people weren't demons he could vanquish but they were much worse, pure evil he would label them as they cursed the blessing that was held in his husband’s womb. It was all he could do to not rip their tongues out and cut their cold hearts out of their chest - beating still - and bind their souls to live eternity in a hell that would be created just for them.

Instead Wyatt could only coldly silence them and let loose a tirade he had kept close to his breast ever since he found his broken other half ready to jump a bridge. Someone so lost and hurt it had taken all he had, gifts included, to help heal the bleeding wounds that weren't able to heal allowing some peace.

Arriving home Wyatt carried his lover to bed, the young man’s eyes swollen and red to rest hopefully without a night terror - it had been so long since the last one.

A slip of paper, blood dipped quill used to write all his hatred and pleas for retribution, he folded it three times and watched as it burned to ash.

Wind ruffled his hair and he knew it was magic, the windows were shut and the night air was still. He didn't ask for their broken bodies and mind at his feet. No, he was willing to risk his very magic to see that they (the Potter's) were graced to feel *exactly* how Harry felt.

The accumulation of years, every emotion, every slice of a blade, the hunger pains, an echo of the roughness of a rope against the delicate skin of a throat...

Three times three.

Karma.

Slipping into bed holding his husband close to him Wyatt's hand slipped to feel the warmth that their child pulsed outwards. "I love you both." were his last words of the night, content.

Somewhere hidden in a closed community twin screams ripped through the night as two minds were driven mad.