Red
When Harry thinks back on his childhood, the first thing he thinks about is Red.
His first memory is red. When Haddy tries really hard he can also remember the sting of something hitting across his back, a pain so sharp and excruciating he screams his little lungs raw, on and on and on, until he can’t take it anymore and something within him snaps. Fortunately, that’s all Haddy remembers of his life before, the way Daddy tells it, it’s like a fairy tale.
Daddy had just been doing his rounds, tending to the dying and decrepit souls in the area, shining his scythe etcetera etcetera, when three ugly, malformed and just plain annoying souls start toddling towards him.
“I knew that boy was a good for nothing FREAK when he was left on our doorstep”, the naked mole rat looking one exclaimed to what Death assumed to be the man’s wife. On paper, the wife could be described as being the physical opposite of the man but in actuality she still resembled a member of the rodent family.
“I’m so sorry Vernon you were right, we should have drowned the mongrel before it figured out how to crawl.” She simpered back to him.
The final soul was small, brimming with untapped opportunities and almost swimming in potential futures like most young souls are. In one possible future he becomes a bully at age 5, starts physically harming his peers by age 7 and by 15 he has a juvenile criminal record as long as his waistline is wide, his deadbeat criminal attitude prevails throughout his life failing to go more than two years outside of prison after age 18 and eventually dies young at the age of 38 of a heart attack which is exacerbated by his frankly impressive BMI and years of on and off drug abuse. In a different future his life starts similarly but by 15 something changes, even Death is not sure what, but it changes the boy, instead of punching his class mates he takes his frustrations out on the punching bag, by 18 he’s being scouted by coaches from across the UK, at 21 he is officially Boxing ‘One to Watch’, he marries his childhood sweetheart Piers Polkiss and wins the World Championships at the ripe age of 28. When he retires at 35, he tours the world as an inspirational speaker warning kids against the dangers of bullying and homophobia, he saves the lives of hundreds of impressionable youths whilst also raising his adorable adopted daughter Sophia. He dies in his bed at the age of 88 surrounded by his husband, daughter and grandchildren, he dies happy and fulfilled and the impact he left on the world could be felt generations after.
“Oh well… shouldn’t have been stupid enough to die.” Death mutters as the souls pass him by, onto the Great Beyond, or as Death calls it ‘Jesus’ Most Impactful Acid Trip’ (really, who looks at a human and goes ‘you know whats missing? Fluffy wings and a glow in the dark circle hat!).
Death feels a tingling at the top of his spine, a feeling he associates with the machinations of his half-sister Fate who enjoys throwing him a curveball every millennium or so (Deathly Hallows. Hello!) But he follows the feeling nonetheless to a non-descript house, on a non-descript street that according to the photos obnoxiously placed on every square inch of wall, belong to the charming little family that have just departed the living.
“Uh aba AHH”
… Maybe not all of them. Turning towards the noise, Death finds an adorable little boy, no older than three with joyful green eyes, a gummy smile, ten perfect toes and ten perfect fingers, smiling at Death as if millions do not run from his presence screaming. Death decided in that a split second, ‘this one, this one is mine!’. Death sees Haddy first, of course, then he notices the blood. The blood that smothers everything in the room including Deaths newly appointed son, oh and the corpses, don’t forget the corpses.
Striding over to the child, Death crouches down, softly carding his fingers through the toddler’s baby fine hair.
“Hello Sweetheart, what have you got there?”
It turns out, what the child had was one of the fat man’s fingers, he was using it to draw pretty pictures in the pools of blood, giggling to himself and excitedly slapping his hands in the now tacky liquid. As if he couldn’t get more perfect!
“You’re mine now baby”, Death whispered as he carefully picked up the laughing toddler.
“Picur Picur” The toddler exclaimed as his head rested on Deaths shoulder, pointing towards the congealing blood roughly smeared into the shape of a … Bulldog?
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll get you some O Neg so you can draw all the pretty pictures you want in your new home”.
As the child places his head back on Deaths shoulder eyes fluttering closed due to the tiring experience of his child’s first triple homicide, Death strokes his cheek and steps out of the Dursley residence for the first and last time.
“My names Death baby, can you say that? Say Death?”
Emerald eyes lock onto Deaths even beneath the shroud.
“De-De, Dada!”
And as Death changes the future without even realising the child he lovingly carries in his arms is Harry Potter, he thinks to himself ‘Dada, even better’.
That was the first day Haddy realised he loved the colour Red.
The second time Haddy pondered the beauty of the colour red he was facing the biggest, most frightening ordeal he had ever encountered. He was prepared, knowing that not being prepared could lead to devastation. He knew that behind the double doors in front of him a swarm of vultures were lying in wait, frothing at the beak to see him stumble and fall. But he wouldn’t, he’s Haddy Peverell, he will face whoever was behind those doors and he will make his Daddy proud!
“And now for our Little Miss, ages seven to nine category of the Thomasville, Georgia Beauty Pageant, please welcome … Haddy Peverell!”
The double doors open and Haddy puts on his best smile (the one that when accompanied with batting eyelashes and a ‘pretty please’ always makes Daddy give in and schedule a trip to Hell for a Daddy-Son bonding day). He confidently walks towards the judges table showing of the pretty ruffles in his ruby red dress and the cute kitten heel on his totally not stolen and shrunk Wizard of Oz ruby slippers.
“During his free time Haddy enjoys playing dress up, going to the zoo and … uh?” The announcer nervously looks around scrunching his forehead in confusion
“And designing viruses that kill asthmatics and decimate economies worldwide.”
“Covid’s a winner sweetheart!”
Haddy’s smile gets even brighter when he sees his Daddy wearing his person suit and an actual suit, cheering him on from behind the judges. Just as the music is about to stop Daddy does a 360, swishing his hips arms out, reminding Haddy to do his last pirouette. As the music stops and the applause starts Haddy turns his head to find his Daddy’s beaming smile before elegantly walking of the stage. Just before the double doors close behind the next contestant, Haddy hears his Daddy’s menacing voice the one he uses on both Ted Bundy and the producers of Drag Race after Trixie Mattel was eliminated for the second time.
“You better not have scored my Haddy below that amoeba looking Holly Barker.”
Stroking the silky crimson material of his dress, Haddy remembers why he is so fond of the colour Red.
Haddy’s love for the colour red continued to grow over the years as he travelled through time and space hand in hand with his Daddy. From admiring Mariah Carey’s gorgeous Father Christmas inspired dress at the Disney Parks Christmas Day Parade in 2010 (a parade Haddy was front in line at despite Daddy insistence he would never take him to Disney World). To the dull, rusty coloured, leathery skin of the T-Rex (Haddy favourite pre-historic birthday trip to date). To the bright red Lamborghini Huracan Daddy promised to steal for him if he got his 100% attendance certificate (Haddy was devastated when he learnt Hogwarts didn’t hand out attendance awards).
But one of his favourite reds is the burgundy hue, the colour of day old blood and dried up internal organs. The same hue he sees now looking out towards the Great Hall from his perch on the sorting stool.
Whilst the Hat stutters on his head trying to convince him into Slytherin or even better, to report himself to the appropriate authorities. Haddy finds that burgundy colour again, not in the sea of Gryffindor’s whose colours Haddy would have proudly worn if not for the annoying chattering and whooping – oh well, yellows almost as nice. He finds it at the green table, a boy, thirteen or so by the look of him, surrounded on all sides yet somehow also above the rest, superior, with the most beguiling burgundy eyes.
This boy, Haddy ponders to himself as the Hat calls out Hufflepuff, this boy will be his bestfriend.