Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Know Thyself: the Prelude
Is Anybody Home?
1 reviewHP and Matrix crossover. What if Neo wasn't the One? What if the One was a little boy with green eyes?
5Exciting
-I-I-I-
Little Whinging was a place noted for its nice houses, neat lawns, and a sense of normalcy unprecedented in the annals of the modern world. And perhaps the most /normal/-seeming of its residents were those known as the Dursleys. Yet, the Dursleys had a deep, dark secret that they kept from the rest of the world. It was no secret that they were raising their orphaned nephew. As for what he /was/...
But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
It was the first day of the month of August. As of the night before, young Harry Potter was nine years old. There had been no recognition of this special day from his aunt and uncle, of course. He never expected any. Although, he reflected as he knelt in his aunt's flowerbed, the list of chores for today had been shorter than usual. There had only been two pages instead of the more normal three. Perhaps Aunt Petunia had at last felt the faintest stirrings of familial devotion?
Harry snorted. It was more likely the Dursleys had simply started to run out of things for him to do, this far into the summer.
He pulled out the last of the weeds and rose, wincing as the movement pulled at his sore muscles. It also didn't help that the bruises from his last beating hadn't yet faded. Sighing, Harry walked inside, careful not to get mud on the clean floor (grounds for a moderate beating, if not a severe one). A quick check on the clock confirmed that Uncle Vernon would be home in fifteen minutes.
Harry nearly smiled. For the first time in nearly a week, his uncle wouldn't have a reason to hurt him. He turned towards the hallway and his cupboard.
Suddenly, there was a crash from behind as something came hurtling through the living room window. The woman rolled, coming erect nearly at Harry's feet, and the two stared at each other.
Had Vernon been present, the green-eyed boy would never have dared to stare so at the stranger who had invaded his home. Doing so would have invited a disapproving box around the ears. He knew that, and so at first it had been surprise that had kept him still and staring, but now...
He could feel her.
-I-I-I-
Trinity knew what she was doing was stupid, that with three Agents on her tail she should not be standing here gawking at a kid, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She couldn't look away from astonishing green eyes, until abruptly those eyes widened and he looked past her, out the broken window. He grabbed her arm, pushing her into a small space underneath the stairs.
She landed on top of a rude cot and watched, shocked, as the boy ran to the front door and flung it open. He turned and threw himself into the cupboard with her, closing the door behind him.
Nearly a minute passed before they heard the pounding of feet outside. They couldn't see what was happening, only pray as they listened to the sound of an object land on the broken glass.
Harry crouched beside the strange woman, trying not to breathe heavily. Desperate, though not sure just why he was afraid, he did the only thing he could think of.
Sometimes, when he was hurt or scared, Harry would pretend he wasn't there, that no one, not his Uncle or the school bullies, could find him. And sometimes they wouldn't. He'd thought it was just coincidence until Dudley and his gang had actually walked past him one day. Now, he closed his eyes and concentrated harder than he ever had before, on the image that the cupboard was full of coats, or old junk, or anything but two people hiding for their lives.
Next to him, Trinity watched, amazed, as an Agent pulled open the door, glanced in, and promptly shut it again, continuing on. She was waiting, breathlessly, for all sounds to fade when a thought that had been niggling at the back of her mind ever since she met the boy came clear, and she turned to study him.
One of the greatest weapons the Agents had against those of Zion was that anyone who wasn't unplugged was potentially an Agent. This child had most definitely seen her, yet was still free. And she only knew of one way that was possible.
"Are you a program?" She asked quietly.
The boy opened his eyes, startled. "A what?"
"A program in the Matrix." Trinity waved her arm, encompassing the world around them. Seeing his confused expression, she shook her head and looked around, at the hard cot with its ratty blanket. "Never mind. What is this place, anyway?"
"My bedroom," he replied absently.
"Room?!"
He nodded. "I think they've left the street."
What in the world? ...Oh, the Agents. "How do you know?"
"I can't feel them anymore."
Trinity's jaw dropped, but any questions she had were forestalled by the noise of a car pulling up in the driveway.
-I-I-I-
Harry went pale as he heard his uncle's car pull in. He knew he would blamed for the broken window, no matter what he said, and that meant he was about to get the beating of his short but well-experienced life.
"This...is going to be bad," he murmured unknowingly, not noticing the questioning look on the woman's face. Sighing, he opened the door of his sanctuary and stepped outside. He turned back to the woman with an afterthought. "Please, don't try and stop him, or he'll hurt you too."
"BOY!"
Harry looked up into Uncle Vernon's rapidly purpling face and cringed.
Oh, yes, this was going to be very bad.
-I-I-I-
Trinity was still pondering the boy's cryptic words when she heard a man shout outside the cupboard, and the meaty 'thud' of flesh hitting flesh. Scrambling to the small doorway, she stared at one of the fattest men she had ever seen standing over the child.
"Freak...little piece of shit...always ruining our lives..." Even as she watched, he drew back his foot and kicked the strange boy viciously in the ribs. The child never made a sound; he just curled up into a ball, as tight as he could manage.
Snarling, Trinity rushed forward, coming up behind the man and wrapping her arm around his throat. Gripping harder as he struggled, she twisted with all her strength, not letting up until she heard a satisfying crack.
Letting the body slump to the floor, she walked over to the boy and knelt. "Hey, it's okay. It's over," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Wincing when he flinched away, she wrapped her arms around him, making soothing noises all the while.
After a few minutes, he began to relax, and she was able to pull him up off the floor and lean him against the wall. "Are you all right?"
The boy nodded, and as she shifted to a more comfortable position his eyes fell on the corpse. "You killed him!" he whispered, his face pale.
She winced. "Yeah."
A long second later, he turned and looked her in the eyes. "Thank you."
Surprised, but refusing to show it, Trinity smiled. "I couldn't just let him hurt you, could I?"
"But you don't even know me," he said with a puzzled frown. "Why would you help a freak like me?"
"Well, the first is remedied easily enough. My name is Trinity." She frowned. "Why do you think you're a freak?"
"I'm Harry Potter. And that's what my aunt and uncle always say," he said, gesturing to the dead man. "Because things always happen around me."
She briefly wished his 'uncle' were still alive so she could kill him again. No one should be told that, let alone a small child. "Harry, how long has your uncle been hurting you?"
He blinked. "I don't remember him not."
Trinity swore, making Harry look at her nervously. The boy couldn't remember not being beaten!?
She turned to the child and gripped his shoulders firmly. "Harry, I'm going to make you a deal. I will never let anyone hurt you again, on one condition." She gazed intently into his eyes. "Promise me you'll never call yourself a freak again."
"O-okay," he stammered. Seeing her look, he took a deep breath. "I promise."
"Good."
"So...now what?"
Trinity frowned. She hadn't quite considered that far ahead. "Well...would you like to come with me?" Damn Morpheus if he didn't like it. Neo would be on her side on general principle, and she thought Tank might be as well.
He hesitated. "I don't want to be a bother..."
"You won't be," she said vehemently. Suddenly her lips quirked. "Besides, we're undermanned. I'm sure you'll be welcome, with some training."
He gave her a tiny, confused smile.
"Now that that's settled, let's get going, shall we?"
Together, the two walked out the door of Number 4 Privet Drive, neither paying any thought at all to the forgotten body behind them.
-I-I-I-
Author's Note: This story was written a long time ago, before I had much practice at writing for anyone but myself. I've gotten quite a bit better since then... I've rewritten parts of it, so hopefully it's better than the original chapter. This is actually the 13-chapter prologue to the main story, and is finished, so if you don't want to wait for the edited versions to appear on this website, follow the link in my profile to where it's been posted in its entirity, along with four chapters of the sequel. Be warned, though, the first few are truly bad...
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor any of the Matrix movies.
Little Whinging was a place noted for its nice houses, neat lawns, and a sense of normalcy unprecedented in the annals of the modern world. And perhaps the most /normal/-seeming of its residents were those known as the Dursleys. Yet, the Dursleys had a deep, dark secret that they kept from the rest of the world. It was no secret that they were raising their orphaned nephew. As for what he /was/...
But we're getting ahead of ourselves.
It was the first day of the month of August. As of the night before, young Harry Potter was nine years old. There had been no recognition of this special day from his aunt and uncle, of course. He never expected any. Although, he reflected as he knelt in his aunt's flowerbed, the list of chores for today had been shorter than usual. There had only been two pages instead of the more normal three. Perhaps Aunt Petunia had at last felt the faintest stirrings of familial devotion?
Harry snorted. It was more likely the Dursleys had simply started to run out of things for him to do, this far into the summer.
He pulled out the last of the weeds and rose, wincing as the movement pulled at his sore muscles. It also didn't help that the bruises from his last beating hadn't yet faded. Sighing, Harry walked inside, careful not to get mud on the clean floor (grounds for a moderate beating, if not a severe one). A quick check on the clock confirmed that Uncle Vernon would be home in fifteen minutes.
Harry nearly smiled. For the first time in nearly a week, his uncle wouldn't have a reason to hurt him. He turned towards the hallway and his cupboard.
Suddenly, there was a crash from behind as something came hurtling through the living room window. The woman rolled, coming erect nearly at Harry's feet, and the two stared at each other.
Had Vernon been present, the green-eyed boy would never have dared to stare so at the stranger who had invaded his home. Doing so would have invited a disapproving box around the ears. He knew that, and so at first it had been surprise that had kept him still and staring, but now...
He could feel her.
-I-I-I-
Trinity knew what she was doing was stupid, that with three Agents on her tail she should not be standing here gawking at a kid, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She couldn't look away from astonishing green eyes, until abruptly those eyes widened and he looked past her, out the broken window. He grabbed her arm, pushing her into a small space underneath the stairs.
She landed on top of a rude cot and watched, shocked, as the boy ran to the front door and flung it open. He turned and threw himself into the cupboard with her, closing the door behind him.
Nearly a minute passed before they heard the pounding of feet outside. They couldn't see what was happening, only pray as they listened to the sound of an object land on the broken glass.
Harry crouched beside the strange woman, trying not to breathe heavily. Desperate, though not sure just why he was afraid, he did the only thing he could think of.
Sometimes, when he was hurt or scared, Harry would pretend he wasn't there, that no one, not his Uncle or the school bullies, could find him. And sometimes they wouldn't. He'd thought it was just coincidence until Dudley and his gang had actually walked past him one day. Now, he closed his eyes and concentrated harder than he ever had before, on the image that the cupboard was full of coats, or old junk, or anything but two people hiding for their lives.
Next to him, Trinity watched, amazed, as an Agent pulled open the door, glanced in, and promptly shut it again, continuing on. She was waiting, breathlessly, for all sounds to fade when a thought that had been niggling at the back of her mind ever since she met the boy came clear, and she turned to study him.
One of the greatest weapons the Agents had against those of Zion was that anyone who wasn't unplugged was potentially an Agent. This child had most definitely seen her, yet was still free. And she only knew of one way that was possible.
"Are you a program?" She asked quietly.
The boy opened his eyes, startled. "A what?"
"A program in the Matrix." Trinity waved her arm, encompassing the world around them. Seeing his confused expression, she shook her head and looked around, at the hard cot with its ratty blanket. "Never mind. What is this place, anyway?"
"My bedroom," he replied absently.
"Room?!"
He nodded. "I think they've left the street."
What in the world? ...Oh, the Agents. "How do you know?"
"I can't feel them anymore."
Trinity's jaw dropped, but any questions she had were forestalled by the noise of a car pulling up in the driveway.
-I-I-I-
Harry went pale as he heard his uncle's car pull in. He knew he would blamed for the broken window, no matter what he said, and that meant he was about to get the beating of his short but well-experienced life.
"This...is going to be bad," he murmured unknowingly, not noticing the questioning look on the woman's face. Sighing, he opened the door of his sanctuary and stepped outside. He turned back to the woman with an afterthought. "Please, don't try and stop him, or he'll hurt you too."
"BOY!"
Harry looked up into Uncle Vernon's rapidly purpling face and cringed.
Oh, yes, this was going to be very bad.
-I-I-I-
Trinity was still pondering the boy's cryptic words when she heard a man shout outside the cupboard, and the meaty 'thud' of flesh hitting flesh. Scrambling to the small doorway, she stared at one of the fattest men she had ever seen standing over the child.
"Freak...little piece of shit...always ruining our lives..." Even as she watched, he drew back his foot and kicked the strange boy viciously in the ribs. The child never made a sound; he just curled up into a ball, as tight as he could manage.
Snarling, Trinity rushed forward, coming up behind the man and wrapping her arm around his throat. Gripping harder as he struggled, she twisted with all her strength, not letting up until she heard a satisfying crack.
Letting the body slump to the floor, she walked over to the boy and knelt. "Hey, it's okay. It's over," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Wincing when he flinched away, she wrapped her arms around him, making soothing noises all the while.
After a few minutes, he began to relax, and she was able to pull him up off the floor and lean him against the wall. "Are you all right?"
The boy nodded, and as she shifted to a more comfortable position his eyes fell on the corpse. "You killed him!" he whispered, his face pale.
She winced. "Yeah."
A long second later, he turned and looked her in the eyes. "Thank you."
Surprised, but refusing to show it, Trinity smiled. "I couldn't just let him hurt you, could I?"
"But you don't even know me," he said with a puzzled frown. "Why would you help a freak like me?"
"Well, the first is remedied easily enough. My name is Trinity." She frowned. "Why do you think you're a freak?"
"I'm Harry Potter. And that's what my aunt and uncle always say," he said, gesturing to the dead man. "Because things always happen around me."
She briefly wished his 'uncle' were still alive so she could kill him again. No one should be told that, let alone a small child. "Harry, how long has your uncle been hurting you?"
He blinked. "I don't remember him not."
Trinity swore, making Harry look at her nervously. The boy couldn't remember not being beaten!?
She turned to the child and gripped his shoulders firmly. "Harry, I'm going to make you a deal. I will never let anyone hurt you again, on one condition." She gazed intently into his eyes. "Promise me you'll never call yourself a freak again."
"O-okay," he stammered. Seeing her look, he took a deep breath. "I promise."
"Good."
"So...now what?"
Trinity frowned. She hadn't quite considered that far ahead. "Well...would you like to come with me?" Damn Morpheus if he didn't like it. Neo would be on her side on general principle, and she thought Tank might be as well.
He hesitated. "I don't want to be a bother..."
"You won't be," she said vehemently. Suddenly her lips quirked. "Besides, we're undermanned. I'm sure you'll be welcome, with some training."
He gave her a tiny, confused smile.
"Now that that's settled, let's get going, shall we?"
Together, the two walked out the door of Number 4 Privet Drive, neither paying any thought at all to the forgotten body behind them.
-I-I-I-
Author's Note: This story was written a long time ago, before I had much practice at writing for anyone but myself. I've gotten quite a bit better since then... I've rewritten parts of it, so hopefully it's better than the original chapter. This is actually the 13-chapter prologue to the main story, and is finished, so if you don't want to wait for the edited versions to appear on this website, follow the link in my profile to where it's been posted in its entirity, along with four chapters of the sequel. Be warned, though, the first few are truly bad...
Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor any of the Matrix movies.
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