Snitches get Stitches

Someone knocked on the door and Ethel looked at Harry.

Harry shook his head.

Ethel sighed and passed little Jonah to Harry before gracefully standing up and walking to the door while Harry shifted so he was hidden behind the recliner.

It was the same routine they’d followed since Kevin said Harry could stay with them the day before.

Every time someone knocked on the door, Harry hid, Ethel checked to see who it was, and then Harry had a chance to decide if he wanted to see them or not.

So far, it had been not.

Remus had been by twice. Once, Ethel had politely told him that Harry wasn’t there and he left. The second time, earlier that morning, Remus and Kevin got in a screaming match on the stoop over it.

Kevin told Remus to get the fuck off his porch.

Remus told Kevin that he knew Harry was inside and needed to speak with him.

Kevin told Remus that he would knock his arse out if he didn’t leave.

Remus told him to take his best shot.

Veronica told Kevin to quit fighting with the neighbor and told Remus to fuck off.

Remus very loudly said that he would be gone for a few days and Harry understood that to mean that he needed to leave for the full moon.

After Remus, it had been Mandy herself just a couple of hours ago and Harry stayed silent so Ethel knew that Harry didn’t want to talk to her.

Harry couldn’t talk to her.

Mandy was going to abort their baby… she didn’t even care about what Harry wanted. It was- she didn’t take any of Harry’s thoughts about it in consideration.

Mandy decided that the baby had to go and Harry got no say at all.

Harry loved Mandy, he knew he did, but it hurt more than anything that she hadn’t even been willing to hear him out. Harry spent his entire life having his feelings ignored by people who didn’t love him, he didn’t realize that someone could love him and still ignore him.

And Harry just didn’t think he could look at Mandy and be able to separate the girl he loved from the woman who was going to get rid of their baby. Maybe he could eventually, but not then.

Everyone expected Harry to just be fine with it when Harry had less than ninety-six hours to deal with—

“I don’t want to be with you.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“It might not be yours.”

“You’re under arrest.”

“It’s yours.”

“You should abort it anyway.”

“I’m not keeping it.”

Harry just wanted a chance to hide out, sniffle some when Ethel’s baby smiled at him, and deal.

Ethel answered the door while Harry rocked Jonah in his arms, tearing up when he saw his angelic and peaceful face while he slept.

“Oh, hello,” Ethel said loudly. “I’m Ethel.”

“I’m Hermione.” It was definitely Hermione, nobody else could fake that voice that was perfectly polite with an undercurrent of intimidation . “I’d like to speak with Harry.”

Harry didn’t say anything, his code to Ethel that he didn’t want to talk.

“Harry? Oh, he lives next door,” Ethel said perfectly innocently. Harry kind of adored Ethel, she wasn’t just someone that Harry felt he could empathize a lot with, she was also funny in an unintentional way that made it ten times funnier.

“Say that again, but don’t bite your lip this time,” Hermione said. “And hold eye contact, it makes people more likely to believe you.”

Harry sighed when he could hear Hermione pushing past poor Ethel.

Ethel was brilliant, but few people were a match for Hermione ‘I stuck a woman in a jar because she wrote a rude story about me’ Granger.

“Hello.” Hermione stuck her head around the recliner and gave Harry a small smile. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Not successfully,” Harry said flatly. He scooted over so Hermione could sit beside him on the floor and Harry just kept watching Jonah sleep softly, his little belly rising and falling. Jonah was adorable. He had big blue eyes that were always sparkling and a cute little smile that made his chubby cheeks glow.

Harry wondered if Ethel had wanted to abort him or not… Harry wondered if she was happy to have him even through the terrible ordeal she had been involved in.

“Harry… I don’t know how to make this better,” Hermione said. She sat with her legs crossed and tilted her head to rest on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s terribly unfair that you both can’t get what you want.”

“It is unfair,” Harry agreed. He could hear Ethel’s quiet footsteps go up the stairs and nothing stopped Harry from sniffling as he tried to keep from dropping tears or snot on Jonah.

“I feel like I already love them and she- she doesn’t,” Harry said, spilling his soul to Hermione. “All I’ve ever wanted is a family, Hermione. And I know I’m young, I’m not stupid, but…” Harry looked over at Hermione until she looked up and Harry could judge her reaction.

“I think I’d be a good dad,” Harry said, his voice breaking.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry’s torso, careful not to disturb Jonah, and let Harry bury his face in Hermione’s hair to cry.

Harry truly thought he’d be a good dad. At a minimum, Harry knew all the things he wouldn’t do—

Harry wouldn’t belittle his child, he wouldn’t insult them and talk down to them. Harry wouldn’t starve them or lock them away. Harry wouldn’t hit them, slam them against walls, put his hands on their neck, or ever leave bruises on them.

Harry would make sure they knew they were loved and wanted and safe. Harry would love them so much.

Harry already loved them.

Hermione didn’t say anything while Harry cried, she just held him and let Harry finally have the breakdown he knew had been coming. There were so many highs and lows recently and it all ended with the lowest point of Harry’s life.

Another two weeks in the dungeon with Voldemort and the death eaters would be preferable to the absolute heartache Harry was experiencing. At least that pain had ended; Harry couldn’t see any end to the pain he was facing then.

One day, Harry would have a child with someone who wanted one and he would think of the baby who didn’t get to be born. Harry would watch Jonah grow up and think about how his baby and Ethel’s could have been best friends. Every holiday would remind Harry of who wasn’t there…

It was a nightmare that Harry never had the imagination to even invent.

There was also a hard contradiction in Harry’s head and he couldn’t figure out how it would ever be resolved-

Harry loved Mandy and understood that some people just didn’t want to have kids.

(And some people shouldn’t have kids, but Harry wasn’t wanting to think about his aunt and uncle just then.)

But Harry also hated Mandy for offering Harry everything he never realized he wanted and then taking it away without even listening to Harry’s opinion.

“How’s Mandy?” Harry asked Hermione when he had calmed down enough to stop the ugly sobs. Jonah was still asleep - babies really did sleep hard - and Harry used his shoulder to try and wipe his face off.

Hermione tutted quietly and reached out for a baby wipe in a little plastic box and she gently traded Harry the baby for the wipe.

“I think she’s upset,” Hermione said slowly, as if choosing her words with care. “You should come home, Harry. Remus and Tonks are gone, it’s just Fred and Mandy. Although, I did try and make Fred leave.”

Harry grinned weakly at Hermione’s angry tone and he asked the question that had been niggling a tiny part of his mind for the last twenty-four hours.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Harry asked. Partially to change the subject, partially because he was curious about Hermione being in Illinois. “It’s not the holidays yet, is it?”

Harry knew it wasn’t. Harry knew it was November eleventh and that Mandy was exactly seven weeks pregnant, which meant that she could abort their baby anytime between then and December first.

Twenty days.

Mandy was going to get rid of their baby in the next twenty days.

“I am changing schools.”

Harry’s thoughts of his child and Mandy were pushed away immediately at Hermione’s very brightly spoken response.

“You’re what?!” Harry gasped. Hermione was beaming and nodding, entirely serious.

“My parents are so excited!” Hermione gushed. “My mom grew up in the States and she was very happy to move back. They’ll be here soon, they’re just taking care of their practice and house. I convinced them to let me come early. I may have implied that you also went to Ilvermony and that Professor Lupin said I could stay with you two until they arrive.”

“Really?” Harry’s smile slowly began to stretch across his face. “You’re going to stay here?”

“Yes!” Hermione squealed, her brown eyes glittering happily. “Ilvermony is a normal school so I’m able to floo, fly, or portkey every day!! That means I can live anywhere in the States! The normal school schedule was the selling point for my dad, he doesn’t care for boarding schools.

“I just couldn’t stay at Hogwarts anymore,” Hermione went on. She scrunched up her nose in an irritated way. “Honestly, I was either going to finish my magical education outside of the country or give it up. Ilvermony was my first choice, obviously, but I was also accepted to Beauxbaton.”

Harry listened to Hermione compare the schools, the communities, the magical governments for different countries with a wide smile. Having Hermione stay was a genuine comfort to Harry. The only thing that could make it better was if Ron could move there as well. Then Harry would never have any reason to miss Hogwarts.

Jonah started fussing when Hermione went in depth of the ‘superior American legal system’ (as Harry was arrested the day before, he didn’t think it was very superior, but Hermione probably only meant within the magical community). Harry took him back from Hermione and got up to go get him a bottle from the kitchen. Just as Ethel always did, Harry held Jonah in one arm while he tested the water temperature with his other hand until it wasn’t too hot or too cold.

“You’re very good with him,” Hermione said while she watched Harry mix the formula in with the water. “I… Harry, I’m so sorry. You’re right. Even if you’re quite young and the pregnancy wasn’t planned, you- you would make a wonderful father.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile that was sad.

Hermione stayed quiet while Harry called for Ethel. Harry wanted to feed Jonah, but he also wanted to spend some time with Hermione.

“Will you be back later?” Ethel asked Harry. She was expertly feeding her baby (who she had an almost two years younger than Harry would be when the baby he wouldn’t get to keep should be born) and smiled at Harry as he pulled on his trainers.

“Yeah, probably,” Harry said. If Mandy was staying at Harry’s house - the best place for her, really - then Harry would stay at Kevin’s for as long as he was welcome. Mandy didn’t need to be stressed over where to sleep, Harry just didn’t want to see her.

“I’ll tell Mister Kevin,” Ethel said happily. “I might not be here when you get back, Miss Veronica is taking me shopping for clothes later after work.”

If anyone needed to go shopping for clothes, it was Ethel. She only owned two dresses and she told Harry they were both hand-me-downs from her ‘sister wives’.

Though Harry wasn’t sure that Veronica making sex videos for the internet in her bedroom really counted as ‘being at work’.

Ethel did remind Harry of something and he fished his wallet from his pocket once he and Hermione were outside. They seemed to have decided together to turn right on the sidewalk, avoiding walking past Harry’s house altogether.

“Will you do me a favor?” Harry asked Hermione as he passed his bank card to her. “Mandy needs clothes and- I dunno, a toothbrush and some toothpaste? Can you take her shopping? Her house is a crime scene and she can’t get any of her stuff.”

Even if Mandy was breaking Harry’s heart, he wouldn’t just leave her to struggle. Harry did love her and care about her, he just also hated her and realized she didn’t care about him at all.

“I- oh, okay,” Hermione said, pocketing the card in her coat. “Harry, can I ask you something?”

“You will anyway,” Harry teased her.

Hermione shrugged in acknowledgement of the truth and linked their arms together so they could walk side-by-side on the cracked and broken sidewalks. Harry expected Hermione to ask about Mandy, the baby, or even Harry’s card.

He was not expecting her actual question.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sirius left?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry tripped a bit and sighed despondently. The only thing to make Harry’s current depression worse was thinking about his errant godfather.

“It was a lot to put in a letter,” Harry offered as a weak excuse. “We had a row, I told him to piss off, he did.”

“What were you fighting about?”

“I don’t even know if we were fighting or not,” Harry said slowly, his eyes pointed straight ahead. “I was fighting with Sirius, I think he was fighting with his brother.”

Hermione didn’t understand that at all and so Harry explained almost all of Sirius’ problems to her. Harry edited out the times when Sirius would get rough. It was partly to protect Hermione and partly to protect Sirius. Harry didn’t need Hermione worrying about him and Harry didnt fancy Hermione finding a dog sized jar to lock Sirius in.

“That sounds terrible,” Hermione said when Harry finished with the last fight he and Sirius had. “I’m glad that Professor Lupin came when he did.”

“I dunno, I don’t think Sirius would be encouraging Mandy to get an abortion,” Harry said bitterly.

“Maybe not, no,” Hermione agreed lightly. “Oh, what happened there?”

Harry looked where Hermione pointed and saw that the store Ian used to work at had the front windows boarded up with slurs spray painted across them.

“My mate, Ian, used to work there,” Harry said. He spent the next few minutes filling Hermione in on Ian and Kash. That led to Harry telling Hermione about the interrogation the day before - which somehow led to the last time Harry had been interrogated.

Then Hermione stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to yank Harry’s sweater up so she could see the wound from where he’d been shot.

“You moron!” Hermione hissed. She raised her hand as if to slap Harry’s arm and then dropped it and glared at him crossly instead. “‘Prove it’? Really?”

“Well they couldn’t, could they?” Harry said sheepishly. He took Hermione’s hand and pulled gently to get her walking again. It was a nice day to walk, the sun was shining which kept it from being too cold and it was too early for the noisy areas of the neighborhood to be making much of a ruckus.

“I hope that hurt,” Hermione told Harry with a sniff. “Idiot.”

“Oh it did,” Harry agreed. “Not as much as my arm did before Remus cut off Voldemort’s arm, but much worse than when I broke my ankle.”

Hermione groaned and Harry huffed out a laugh before launching in his next story about wanting to lose his virginity and being chased by a very angry father. That then led to Harry explaining why he had wanted to lose his virginity, then the whole mess with Mickey that led to Harry and Mandy getting together. Then Harry very nervously explained how his arm kept burning and he maybe tried to cut it off and that Sirius sent him to the hospital like an arse.

“It’s a good thing I’m here,” Hermione said when Harry finished telling her absolutely everything he left out of his letters.

“You’re truly hopeless, you know that?” Hermione asked. They made it to the high school and Harry climbed up in the bleachers to sit for a bit before walking back.

“I’ve done fine,” Harry said defensively. “I made some friends—”

“Other patients in the psych ward.”

“—I learned a lot of new skills—”

Hermione snorted.

“— and I haven’t actually added to my criminal record any.”

“Bravo,” Hermione said sarcastically. “You’ve also been shot, slept with siblings—”

Harry grinned, he probably shouldn’t be proud of that.

“—you’ve hurt Professor Lupin’s feelings—”

“Oi!” Harry interrupted Hermione and scowled even as she swung her legs over his lap, just as they used to sit on the much more comfortable couches in the Gryffindor common room. “I hurt his feelings? You’re joking, right?”

Remus was the one who inserted himself in the middle of Harry’s business and acted as if Mandy getting rid of their baby was some grand plan. None of them cared about Harry’s feelings on the subject, at all.

“Harry, you accused him of murdering a baby,” Hermione said in a no-nonsense way. “Tonks too. And I’m not saying they should feel entitled to shout about their opinions on Mandy’s pregnancy, but it was very cruel of you to imply they murdered a baby.”

“They did.”

“They didn’t,” Hermione argued. “They terminated a pregnancy. It’s perfectly legal and the fetus isn’t developed enough to feel pain or - for goodness sake, it doesn’t even have a brain yet, Harry.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably - he hadn’t even considered if it would hurt Mandy or the baby to have the abortion done - and gave Hermione a pleading look.

“Can we just… just for today, not talk about it?” Harry begged. “Please?”

Harry couldn’t even consider if he owed Remus an apology or not when just the word ‘abortion’ sent a pang through Harry’s chest.

“Fine,” Hermione agreed. “I do think you should tell Professor Lupin a— oh, you must kidding me!” Hermione shrieked when Harry absently reached for the pack of sympathy-cigarettes that Kevin gave him.

“Which is worse…” Harry lit up and took a deep drag of the cigarette before turning his head away from Hermione to blow the smoke away. “Cigarettes or weed?” he smirked. If Hermione was sticking around then she would have to get used to it, Harry wasn’t planning on quitting.

“Cigarettes,” Hermione said without hesitation. She was glaring at the cigarette as if it had personally offended her. “Honestly, Harry, marijuana is at least naturally grown and harvested in most cases. Cigarettes are laced with chemicals that can kill you.”

Harry stared thoughtfully at Hermione while she launched in an explanation of how cigarettes were made that Harry ignored. He was nearly finished with the evil and toxic vice in question when he had a sudden realization.

“I need to see what you’re like when you’re stoned,” Harry said. It was suddenly his second-most desired wish. “I bet it’s hysterical.”

Hermione bit her lower lip for a moment before smiling shyly.

“Do you have any I could try?”

Harry was on his feet in an instant, pulling Hermione up with him.

“Nope. But I know where we can find some.”

Ian took a deep breath and tried to calm down his racing heart before he knocked on Fiona’s new bedroom door.

They had only shuffled around bedrooms the night before, something that was long overdue in Ian’s opinion. Debbie got her own room, Fiona got Frank’s old room. Carl and Liam were sharing a room, and Ian and Lip were still in the same room.

Debbie had thrown a fit about Fiona taking Frank’s room, leaving Frank with nowhere to sleep if he got thrown out of Shiela Jackson’s house, but she calmed down when she realized she would get her own bedroom.

Ian didn’t understand Fiona’s sudden desire to switch rooms around, but his sister seemed keyed up about something and Ian wasn’t unhappy to kick Carl from his room. Especially since Mickey was half-naked in Ian’s bed, still sound asleep and probably wore out from their celebration sex the night before.

Ian didn’t blame Mickey for celebrating Terry’s murder, Ian would do the same thing if someone wanted to shoot Frank in the face.

It was something Mickey said the night before that led Ian to Fiona’s door before his other siblings were awake.

“I hope Terry’s rolling in the fuckin’ morgue to know I’m gettin’ railed by a dick.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. About. Your. Dad.”

There had been something fun about fucking Mickey in Ian’s own bed, praying that Lip wouldn’t return home anytime soon, but Ian felt a weird feeling of guilt afterward.

Fiona had always been there for Ian, since the day he was born. Fiona was more Ian’s mom than Monica ever could have been. Fiona wasn’t like Mickey’s dad with any kind of homophobia and Ian probably called more people faggots than Fiona ever did. It felt wrong, not telling Fiona that he was gay.

Yeah, Fiona knew about Kash, but she also thought he had been manipulating Ian into having sex with him. Even if Fiona wasn’t completely wrong (and Ian mostly just didn’t think about it- it didn’t hurt if he didn’t think about it), Ian had been gay before then and in fifty years, Ian would still take a nice set of abs and a hard dick over tits.

Fiona opened the door after Ian knocked again and he’d clearly interrupted something. Fiona’s hair was all fucked up and judging from the way she had her body twisted around, Ian would guess she was naked behind the door.

“What’s up?” Fiona asked quickly with a blush on her cheeks.

“I thought Steve was in Detroit this weekend?” Ian asked curiously, temporarily distracted from what he wanted to tell his sister.

“So I’m flying solo,” Fiona laughed. “Everything okay?”

“Maybe?” Ian said, anxious once more. “I just… Fi, you’re like my mom, okay? And I hate lying to you…”

Ian trailed off, lost for the words to say.

If Ian said he was gay and Fiona wanted to, she could kick him to the curb. Fiona could shred her guardian papers and tell Ian he wasn’t her brother anymore.

It sounded dramatic, but there were gay kids Ian chatted with online occasional who had those exact experiences.

Fiona’s face softened and there was something tender in the look she gave Ian.

“Don’t come out to me,” Fiona said quietly, shocking the hell out of Ian. Fiona knew and she didn’t even want to hear—

“Nobody makes an announcement when they’re straight and you don’t need to make one either,” Fiona went on. “Just… tell Mickey to wear a fucking condom, okay? I don’t need him giving you some nasty disease.”

Ian’s heart was soaring in his chest. Fiona knew, she didn’t care, and apparently Ian and Mickey had been louder than Ian intended the night before.

“I wear a condom every time,” Ian said with the dumbest and most genuine smile on his face. When Fiona made the obligatory sibling response to too much information, Ian laughed.

“I love you, Fi,” Ian said.

Fiona smiled right back at him.

“I love you. Now go the fuck away.”

Ian was still laughing when Fiona slammed the door in his face.

Though, he stopped when he heard a girlish giggle inside Fiona’s room…

Flying solo his ass.

Ian was in such a good mood that he decided to make an early lunch for everyone, giving Fiona a break. He took a quick shower and was practically bouncing down the stairs to the kitchen afterward.

“You’re home,” Ian said, immediately noticing his brother in the kitchen. Lip had his jacket on, an unlit cigarette dangling in his mouth, and he shut the cabinet he had been digging in too quickly to be innocent.

Ian glanced at the cabinet and knew that the only thing of importance kept in there was the squirrel fund they filled during the summer to meet ends during the school year when it was harder for them to get cash.

“Hey, where is everyone?” Lip asked in a rush. He stepped away from the cabinet and Ian didn’t miss the way his hand went straight to his pocket.

“Still asleep,” Ian said casually. “It was a late night. Where’ve you been?”

“Here and there,” Lip said evasively.

“Yeah?” Ian crossed his arms and angled his body to block the back door. “Something important enough to keep you out all night and have you robbing us?”

“I’m not fucking robbing us,” Lip said before he cupped his hand around the cigarette to light it. He blew the smoke across the room in Ian’s face. “I put more than my share in it over the summer, I just needed to borrow it back.”

“How much?”

“Five hundred.”

“Five hundred?” Ian’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck do you need five hundred dollars for?!”

“None of your damn business,” Lip said. “I put twenty five in there, I can fucking use the extra for whatever I want.”

“Oh yeah? Great! I put an extra hundred in, I guess I’ll just use it on fucking condoms and chew.”

Lip stared deadpan at Ian while he took another long drag off his cigarette.

“Chew is fucking disgusting,” was all he said.

“You’re disgusting,” Ian said with a sneer.

The Gallaghers only worked when they worked together. If Lip was going to start pulling some selfish bullshit then they’d fall apart. Ian dropped it for the moment though, he just planned to keep an eye out and make sure that Lip didn’t fuck their winter money again.

“I gotta head out,” Lip said. “Hey, do me a favor? If you see Harry, tell him I’m looking for him.”

Lip walked right out the front door while Ian was still bitching about his entitled fucking attitude. When Lip was definitely gone, Ian went ahead and moved the Crisco can they kept their cash in. If Lip was being shady then Ian wasn’t taking any chances.

Debbie was the first one downstairs and she jumped right in to help Ian cook. It was nice, making lunch together with Debbie. Ian didn’t get many chances to hang out with his little sister.

“Shiela said if you add a slice of tomato to a grilled cheese that it’s really good,” Debbie said while Ian flipped the sandwiches on the stove.

“Do we have any tomatoes?”

Debbie opened the fridge and stuck her head in before pulling out a rotten ass tomato.

“No,” she said, “ yuck.”

Ian chuckled and looked up to see that Fiona was finally out of bed and had Liam on her hip and…

“That is not Steve,” Debbie whispered loudly.

No it was not Steve that followed Fiona down the stairs. It was a chick, for one, and not anyone that Ian knew. The chick had on a crop top that showed off a decent set of abs with a pair of leggings that showed an equally decent ass.

“Ahem.” Ian cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the pink haired stranger trying to super subtly sneak out their backdoor.

“Oh, this is Tonks,” Fiona said. Her face was red and she made a big show of putting Liam in his high chair. “She’s Remus’ friend and needed a place to crash.”

“Why didn’t she crash with Remus?” Debbie asked accusingly, stopping ‘Tonks’ in her tracks.

Ian licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. Maybe Fiona had ulterior motives for being sooo calm about Ian being gay.

“That’s a great question,” Ian added with a grin. “Why didn’t your friend stay with Remus?”

“Remus is out of town,” Tonks said as she spun around. She rocked back and forth on the heels she wore and grinned directly at Ian. “I hate to sleep alone and your sister was quite understanding.”

“I’m sure she was.”

Ian looked away from his blushing sister to see Mickey yawning hugely as he stretched and walked down the stairs.

“I dunno how any of you fucks sleep when your sister moans louder than a fuckin’ porno,” Mickey complained.

Ian looked at Tonks and Tonks shrugged a shoulder up and looked smug as hell.

“I have an airplane to catch,” Tonks said cheerfully. “Lovely to meet you all, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Debbie was staring at Fiona with her chin practically on her chest. Ian tried to give Fiona some privacy by not bringing it up if she didn’t want to discuss it.

Mickey didn’t give a fuck.

“So does the carpet match the drapes?” he asked.

“Does Ian’s?” Fiona countered immediately.

Ian dropped his eyes to the sandwiches he’d been cooking and swore under his breath to see he’d burned one. Mickey was about to deny they—

“You really want me to answer that?” Mickey said. He met Ian’s eyes square on and raised his chin stubbornly when Ian must have looked as shocked as he felt. “You makin’ food or do I gotta show you how to do that too?”

Fiona was smiling just as happily as Ian was as Ian flipped Mickey off and went back to cooking.

“Soo…” Ian and Mickey were sitting on the back stairs together after lunch, staring a blunt. Ian nudged Mickey’s knee with his and tried to not sound clingy. “We’re telling people now?”

“If it means you’ll keep your hand off my mouth when we’re fuckin’ then I guess so,” Mickey said. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It ain’t like Terry can kill me now and I’ll kill any fucker I need to to prove a point.”

Ian actually choked on his smoke when Mickey added a quick and snarky little, “Plus I guess everyone in your fuckin’ family is gay as shit.”

The two of them were laughing like dumbasses and Ian only laughed harder when Harry walked through the alley with some chick and Mickey whispered, “Speaking of gay…”

“Ian! Hey!” Harry looked like he was in a decent mood for a dude with a knocked up girlfriend. Ian really hoped that the pretty black girl hanging off Harry’s arm wasn’t the cause of it because Ian might feel torn on who to help when Mickey tried to kick Harry’s ass.

Harry led the girl through the yard, darting around the holes in the ground that Carl left after blowing shit up one day. The girl seemed so out of place in the yard that it was almost funny. She looked rich and Ian couldn’t imagine what she was doing in their neighborhood.

“Hermione, this is Ian and Mickey,” Harry said, pointing at them each in turn. “And this is my friend from my old school, Hermione.”

“Just a friend?” Mickey asked immediately, just as Ian knew he would. “Cause if you’re fuckin’—”

“Trust me, I’d shag you before I did Harry, and you seem quite gay,” Hermione interrupted Mickey with a sarcastic smile and an accent similar to Harry’s, but more polished somehow. “You’re Mandy’s brother, correct? Harry is mine.”

“Anyone who can shut Mickey up is good enough for me,” Ian grinned when Mickey’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes bulged out at Hermione. “You giving her the tour?” Ian asked Harry.

“I did, but I actually had a question for you.” Harry smiled brightly at Ian and nodded at the blunt in his hand. “Hermione’s never been high before, any chance we can smoke with you?”

Harry’s friend was fucking hilarious when she was high. The four of them were stoned as fuck, spread out across the backyard, and Ian couldn’t stop laughing at the stupid shit that Hermione kept saying.

“I just feel like I could cure cancer if I tried,” she said from where she laid on the trampoline and looked up at the sky. “Honestly, I think scientists are making it seem much more complicated than it is.”

Harry nodded seriously from on top of the old steps for the pool as he took another hit. They had to cut Hermione off before she got too high and she had pouted about it before becoming fascinated by the trampoline. Ian and Mickey sat on the steps with Harry so they could split the rest of the blunt between the three of them.

“I reckon if anyone could cure cancer it would be you,” Harry said solemnly. He passed the blunt down to Mickey.

“She’s fuckin’ stoned,” Mickey snorted. “Everyone thinks they can cure cancer when they’re high.”

“Cancer seems hard, but diabetes?” Ian shrugged. “I bet Lip could cure diabetes, he’s smart as fuck.”

“I feel like if you give Lip a pack of cigarettes he can kind of do anything.”

Ian and Mickey both looked up at Harry while Hermione hummed a song to herself.

“Dude, you sound gay as fuck,” Ian laughed. “‘Oh, Lip, I believeeee in you’.”

“Who’s gayer? Harry for sayin’ that shit or Lip for tattooin’ his name on Harry’s arm?”

“I want a tattoo,” Hermione sighed wistfully. “I’d get a pixie on my shoulder, or maybe a book.” She rolled on her side and looked at Harry. “Will Lip give me a tattoo or do I have to be a boy?”

“You have to be Harry,” Ian told her. “I’ve been asking for a tattoo for months and he’s trying to charge me for it.”

“I don’t want to be Harry,” Hermione said with her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “His life is terrible.”

“Oi! I’m right here!” Harry protested.

“I know.” Hermione looked up at him and sighed again. “It’s so tragic because you don’t even realize how bad it is.”

Hermione was listing off the many reasons she wouldn’t want to be Harry - bad eyesight, messy hair, shitty luck, dead parents - when Lip finally returned home with Mandy Milkovich following behind him.

The previously easy going feeling in the air turned tense and nobody said a fucking word as they watched Lip and Mandy walk up. Lip acted cool as could be, he just leaned against the trampoline Hermione laid on and watched Mandy as she paused only a few feet from the steps the boys were sharing.

“Harry, can we talk?” Mandy asked quietly.

Mickey passed Ian the blunt and Ian once again felt like he had a front row seat to someone else’s train wreck of a life.

“I actually can’t,” Harry answered, not even looking at her. “Just… For one bloody day, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Mickey looked like he was about to jump in so Ian pinched his thigh hard. It was kind of cute, the way Mickey always protected his sister, but Harry wasn’t being a dick. Ian didn’t know a damn thing going on between them - he knew Mandy was knocked up and he knew that Harry had been arrested for Terry’s murder and released when the cops lost the evidence - but that was it.

And Ian wouldn’t find out shit if Mickey shut the conversation down.

“I…” Mandy twisted her hands together before she stuffed them in the baggy sweatpants that had to belong to Harry. “I’m going to send in a DNA test.”

Oooh shit. Ian’s eyebrows shot up. Was the baby not definitely Harry’s?? Ian heard rumors at school, but Mickey wouldn’t say anything when he asked him about it. It was ‘Milkovich business’.

“Why?” Harry finally looked down at Mandy with his face scrunched up. “I thought it didn’t matter?”

“I mean, I don’t give a fuck either way,” Mandy said. She hunched her shoulders up and kicked a foot in the dirt. “But if it’s yours and you want it, then- then I guess you can have it.”

Ian was watching his brother curiously when Mandy said that. Lip was staring Harry down with a crooked grin like he already knew what Mandy was going to say before she said it.

But Ian turned back around when Harry’s dumb ass fell off the back of the stairs that weren’t attached to anything and all they heard was a huff as he hit the ground and the air was knocked from his lungs.

“See?” Hermione flapped a hand to where Harry just fell and she shook her head. “Tragic.”