A/N: Hello, my peoples! This is my second Harry Potter story (definitely my first one with slash ^^') But this is my first multi-chaptered Harry Potter story, so please don't be too...flame-y. I wanted to do this story without Author's Notes, but that became impossible. The chapter just doesn't look right when you don't have an author's note. Sorry if people were beginning to expect that...
ANYWAY! This is a story idea that has been done to death, I know, but I wanted to try one. :) So I hope you enjoy my twist on things.
This is the prologue of the story. I highly suggest you read it, or you will be majorly confused in later chapters, because I'll be referencing the goings-on in the prologue in later chapters. See you at the bottom! ~M.M.
Of Darker Beginnings
Prologue: Dark Words
Harry Potter learned from a very young age that crying had no use.
It was noisy, distracting, and it often caused Harry to be beaten more than when he did not. Therefore, Harry decided - when he was just three years old - that he should not cry when he was upset. Crying was an expression of pure emotion, but what good did it do when nobody cared?
Harry also learned that some words were only derogatory when spoken in the correct manner. The word 'boy', for instance. For most, it was simply a noun. However, when spoken by Harry's uncle, it was an insult. It was an indication that Harry was of lower status than his uncle, and Harry didn't like that.
Other words, such as whore, freak, bitch, idiot, and bastard were derogatory no matter how you said them. Those were words that Harry didn't know the meaning of until he was nine, but also words that he would never forget.
He had first heard those words when he was eight, just a few days before his ninth birthday. He'd been able to learn their meaning a day or two later, at school. He was a very intelligent and studious boy; he knew how to use a dictionary quite well. He often sat in a corner reading while the other kids would play around with each other in the sandbox and ran around on the huge grass field.
Unfortunately for Harry, the situation in which he had heard those horrible words was not the most pleasant. With long, raven-black hair that was long to his shoulders, heavy, thick, dark lashes that made his eyelids look heavy, and pouty, full, red lips, Harry Potter was quite the looker. His bright, emerald-green irises that sparkled with intelligence and innocence also made him very attractive. That was something that didn't escape the sight of his uncle.
His uncle had spat all of those words when he was raping his nephew, and when he'd forced his way into the little boy's mouth.
After that, Harry's eyes looked less like emeralds, and instead like the light of a certain Killing Curse. And everyone who saw them was either cursed to die, or forever have nightmares about a little boy with eyes way too cold and hard to belong to a child.
A/N: Hello again! I hope you aren't too confused yet! ~M.M.