Life sucked. That was the only thing young Harry Potter was sure about.
His uncle hated him.
His aunt hated him.
His cousin hated him.
His uncle's sister hated him.
Her dog hated him.
The neighbors hated him.
Well if life didn't suck, he didn't know what did.
He was only ten years old and was already better at school than most boys four years ahead of him. The reason wasn't that he was exceedingly smart, well he was but that was not the only reason, the other reason was that he didn't have one friend, not one. Therefore he buried himself in the school books since these were the only reading material his relatives allowed him to have, and the only reason he even had these was because the school provided them for the students who couldn't afford them, so they were really old, but it didn't matter to him, he read them, and read them, and read them until he knew it by heart. He got to the point that he could actually read them in his head. He always knew he had a great memory, but a visiting professor he had asked said that eidetic memory was really rare and that it would do him good to train it to get better results, and the training that professor told him would profit the most was rereading the same material over and over, and since he had nothing but the same material he decided to do it. It was all of three years ago that the blond professor had come to visit the school and had given Harry the advice on training his memory, what the professor didn't know was that Harry didn't tell this to anyone, not his professors, not his relatives, no one. Young mister Potter had decided to approach the new teacher just as he was leaving the school grounds to ask his questions, this way the teacher wouldn't have time to ask or comment with the other teacher about the young black haired boy with a perfect eidetic memory in an oversized uniform.
That bode the fruit that Harry expected, he had gradually but surely improved his memory to the degree that he could remember almost instantly anything that he read attentively.
One day the young boy took a side trip to the municipal library on hope to find something useful on eidetic memory and after only a couple of minutes browsing an index for book he found a couple of books and checked them out, to read only since he couldn't provide the clerk with a photo ID to get it home. Only one proved to be useful and it was one called "From Eidetic memory magic of evolution" and the main passage that interested Harry said that eidetic memory was really an unknown factor, but that the few people who showed phenomenal memory trained it every day.
That did it for Harry if he was training in the last three years only two hours a day he would now try and train it every possible hour so that he could improve it and therefore attain something for himself other than his relative's "hand me downs".
He was already able to memorize the number on all his uncles credit cards as well as all his other information, also he could recite it from memory alone his aunt's information. This was particularly useful when his relatives would go out to dinner and leave him home alone locked in his cupboard without any food. He was already able to unlock the cupboard since he had already made years ago a copy of the key that opened the padlock used on his door. He had made the copy when his aunt had sent him to buy groceries and with the change a nifty 5 pounds note he made the key. He got in trouble for losing the receipt as he knew he would but there was no way around it, he needed the money to pay for the copy of the key and he didn't have any. After that it was a paradise whenever his relatives got out to dinner, or any event for that matter, he would dial the pizza delivery guy and pay buy credit card over the phone. Those were definitely the best nights he had ever spent at his relative's house.
At eight Harry got the Dursleys in trouble with child services. He had called a wrong number after the Dursleys had left him to go out of Surrey to dinner, he knew they would take at least 4 hours to be back, so he did what would be unthinkable to any other 8 year old, he looked for the number of the nosiest neighbor on the phone book and then put his hand in the boiling water recipient kept in the stove. It hurt a lot but Harry was no stranger to pain. He then dialed to the neighbor and proceeded to ask about first aid and when the woman finally told Harry she would take care of it, he sat down on the couch and waited for the soon to be ambulance. When they got there they were angry and called the police, since they saw where the young boy was sleeping. The police waited for the Dursleys and took them to the Police Station. After taking all the trouble to do this and the pain too, Harry hoped it would work, because there sure would be hell to pay if Vernon ever got off the hook. All was great for the first and the second week they were all afraid of the repercussions of the supposed abuse and told Harry he didn't need to do work around the house or sleep in the cupboard anymore. He would be given free reign over his time and Dudley's second room. After two weeks period man came to the house wearing weird clothing, not that Harry minded, he just knew his uncle would love to tear a piece of the guy, so he made to the front door trying to same the working guy some grief and was rewarded when he opened his door to the guy holding a stick in his face and heard a single word before everything went black.
"Obliviate!"
Harry woke what it looked like two minutes after and got to the living room where he was treated to the site of the man doing the same to his uncle and aunt.
"Obliviate!"
The man than followed the weird word with precise instructions on what to remember and what not to remember.
'What the hell!' If the man could really do that to anyone he wanted he was a real danger to him. Especially since it looked that the man was trying to ease the Dursleys out of trouble with the police. If he had done the same with the social worker and the detective responsible for his case he was really fucked. Vernon would put him back in the cupboard, and would start starving him again, and he would also be back working his ass off like a slave.
He hid himself before the man noticed that he was aware of his surroundings and with his memory intact. After getting back to the doorway he got an idea, maybe his eidetic memory had really helped him some. Well even if at the moment it would be better if the man had simply boggled whatever he had tried to do to him and his relatives. He was already missing the last 14 days ten hours of memory practicing.
Vernon did make him get back to work, but not back to his cupboard, and that was already a treat. He could make his memory exercises during his gardening, and in the way to school, and while cooking… Well pretty much whenever he wanted.
The days passed.
The weeks passed.
The months passed.
It was all down the same. He continually improved his memory to the point that he could remember everything from a simple glimpse. He could reread entire books in his mind's eye as if he was looking directly at them. The benefits were really astounding. His grades didn't change because he knew what kind of fuss his relatives would do if he got better grades then Dudley, but he could teach the class if he wanted, that was how much he improved.
He was ten years old and was going to be eleven in a few hours. Not that anyone in the household would even accept it. It would be a day as any other, a day that nobody would pay attention to him, or even worst, a day where everybody would go out of their way to treat him even worse than usual. Well he could hope for a regular day, those were easier to go by than when his relatives would start on his parents on his birthday.
The day started as usual with him up at 4 am, even before his aunt would call him he would be awake to study and practice his memory. He was going to be a powerful man one day and those who belittled him would pay dearly. His thoughts would be strange for a ten years old, or eleven years old in a couple of hours, but he was not a normal teenage boy, he was an abused, intelligent and even if nobody knew, not even him powerful teenage boy. After his daily practice and study he got out of the hated cupboard and went to cook breakfast for the horrible people that he was forced to call relatives. As usual he ate what he could during his cooking as he knew he would get the usual meager portion of a daily breakfast while all others would get an gargantuan size portion. After finishing it he started putting the table while he could hear his "beloved" aunt descend the stairs and knock on his cupboard demanding that he get up and start breakfast. Her astounded face would be enough for him to get up a little early, but if he could get also a little more to eat and have a little more time to study, that was simply great.
After hearing the usual cursing from his aunt's husband, Harry got to his seat only to be told to get up and grab the mail after Dudley refused to dot it as usual.
When he got to the mail the only thing he could see was an rough envelope addressed to him. He couldn't believe he never got mail, and the fact that the mail was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs only made him angry for the lack of concern of whoever that had written him about the place he was living in.
He then while going back to the kitchen started to open and read his letter.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September (or when you happen to register). We await your owl confirming your attendance.
Uniform
First year students will require:
Set Books
Please not that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
Other Equipment
Students may also bring and owl, cat or toad
When he reached the last sentence of the letter, that seemed to be from a prestigious school of magic his aunt gasped and ripped the paper from his hands.
"What is the meaning of this Petunia! Is the boy opening my mail without any regard for my privacy?" Asked a puce colored Vernon.
"No dear, it's... Its from those people..." She said in a whisper like voice.
"What do you mean aunt Petunia? Is it true? Did you know that I was going to receive this?" Harry was very nervous that it seemed his aunt knew about magic being real. He believed in it at some point in his life but now after years being belittled by the Dursleys he no longer believed in nothing pure or good in the world.
"Of course I knew. Since your parents went to that freak's school I had no doubt that you would too." She gasped after saying what she knew was the wrong thing to say.
"You lied." The boy said simply. Knowing that lying was normal and sometimes even necessary for survival.
"Go to your room, boy." Yelled a very angry Vernon.
Harry scrapped into his cupboard thinking to himself that someday these people would pay for everything they had done to him. He could hear his relatives arguing what to do about the freak. He already knew that they were referring to him. After a few more minutes he heard the lock of his cupboard clicking shut. He was locked and it looked bad from his point of view. The had just eaten and it would take until lunch or even maybe dinner if his aunt were in the mood to cook.
He started to read one of the books on applied math he read from the public library. It was supposed to be studied on the graduate program for those who would major in math, so it was really advanced, but it was no problem for him since math was all about reasoning and formulas, and those he had to spare. The morning turned into a day and the day turned into almost a week. His aunt opened the door only to get him a jug of water and a stale bread with a thin slice of cheese and to go to the bathroom, and these were all done once a day.
He was very hungry, and bored, but he was almost chuckling with the last thought he had. He started to think that his relatives should have some kind of place to store the bread that they gave him because it was always stale, always... There was no way that bread was always this bad. Even when they bought the bread in the morning they ate it his was always stale.
He started to imagine that if he really had power to do magic he would show them, he would show them all. His aunt, his uncle, his first grade teacher that even though she saw what kind of marks he had on his back she wouldn't do anything about it, not even when he asked for help from her. She only said that he should have done something really bad to get his good relatives that nervous at him. He would also get back at those who hated him for being different.
He was already 5 days there and decided that as soon as they let him out he would find out how to get to the people that were like him and not like his relatives and simply ignore the rest of the world if they let him be, if not... Well he would make them.
After another 2 days he was let out when a huge man came to get him apparently to get his school supply.
After going through the Leaky Cauldron Hagrid took him to Gringotts. After a healthy ride they came into Harry's vault.
"This is your Trust Fund vault mister Potter." Grumbled the nasty looking goblin.
"What kind of Trust Fund?" He asked the goblin in a manner that brooded no questions if he should answer or not.
"The kind that young pure bloods have to pay for their schooling and school supply." Answered the goblins even more irritated.
"Fine. Do I have another vault in here?"
"Yes Mister Potter, you do. You would only get the control of it when you graduate from school or at 17 years old what came first, but since you are the last heir of the Potter line you have the control of it now. Do you want to visit it?"
"Not right now, thanks."
The door opened and Harry noticed more money than he had ever seen in his entire life. Gold coins cascading over gold coins, he could see a couple of hundred blue silvered coins but nothing else.
"What are these?" Said Harry handling one of the blueish coin.
"Oh, those are primes. Once they were used as currency for those who had too much money to carry in small purses. This was way before the invention of the calling charm used in our specialty purses. Today you can carry almost an unlimited amount of coins in those, so they are unneeded. Since the material of these coins is almost too hard to find and very much expensive the practice was discontinued. A coin is worth 10.000 galleons, it's a lot but since they were created to substitute a vault inside your pocket you can see why."
"Ok, how much to a galleon?"
"A galleon is worth in today's rate of conversion almost 247 pounds." Said the goblin while consulting a small notepad he retrieved from a pocket. Harry noticed that the number writen in it seemed to fluctuate between 97.495 and 97.875.
When the goblins noticed that Harry was looking at his notepad he pocketed it.
"The sheet is charmed to continually update the exchange rate. Thats why it fluctuate." Harry nodded while in his head he was calculating how much money he had access to.
Just for the small explanation he just had from the small goblin he could say already that he was more rich than he could ever dream. He made a small calculation in his head that if he had 500 primes and by a look he could tell he had, he had over 485.000.000 UK pounds, and that was in primes alone. He was rich. No he was filthy rich.
The possibilities started to flood into his head. He could buy his uncle's company and fire him. He could keep doing that for all his relatives life and he wouldn't even start to get poor. He could buy the whole neighborhood and get them evicted. He could get back at all of them. Well, it would have to wait. He had to get powerful before all that. If his uncle could smell the kind of money he had he would kill Harry and demand his money, or something like that.
Harry smiled and turned to the goblin.
"Do you have one of those small bags you mentioned before?"
"Sure do, mister Potter." He reached into one pocket and murmured a couple of words in another language that Harry supposed was his language and after a couple of seconds pulled a thick leather black pouch that looked like it could house no more than twenty coins.
"Are you sure that it'll hold it?"
"Yes, it'll hold almost all you money from this vault. It has a couple of security measures. Such as no one can withdraw from it other than you, the bag alway looks like empty and nobody can summon it or even grab it without you wanting it."
"Cool. I loved it. How much for it?" Harry had already learned early in life that everything had a price and nothing was free.
The goblins smiled. It was the first real smile Harry had seen. The goblin was very pleased with the question. Every wizard thought that the services they provided should be free, and here was one of the richest wizards in the planet and a young one at that and he already knew how things should be.
"2 galleons mister Potter. Don't worry about paying it, it will come out of your account at the end of the month statement."
"Ok, thanks." After saying this Harry went into the vault and started to harvest his riches. He grabbed what he quickly calculated to be almost 100.000 galleons and a couple of hundred of the bluish coins.
That ought to be enough. He thought to himself. With this he would get everything of the best. Nobody would be able to see that he didn't have a penny only a couple of minutes ago. He would fit into the elite even if he had bully his way into society. If there was something that he had learned was that powerful people was not bullied, threatened, abused or even guilty of anything. And Harry decided that if he had to be a part of the food chain he rather be at the top of it.
After a quiet ride back to surface Harry noticed that Hagrid had something to say. Just as he registered that in his brain Hagrid turned to him.
"Harry professor Dumbledore said I should help you with the shopping but I'm really tired from all the work I've being doing. Do you mind if I leave you here to buy the basics and meet you before you go home?"
"Sure no problem Hagrid." Harry was already plotting to not return to the Dursleys, so he grabbed the chance of being left alone.
"If you want I can go home by myself, my relatives don't mind. They do it all the time." He put on the most sincere face he could muster.
"You sure Harry? You sure they wouldn't mind?"
"Of course Hagrid. Don't you think I would tell you if they wouldn't be fine with it?"
"Sure Harry, I'm sorry. Of course you know what you are doing. They are your relatives after all. Bye then." He turned to go, but then turned back suddenly.
"Oh by the Way Harry, you got to be at the King's Cross on september first at platform 9 3/4. Got it? Ok, Bye now."
After Hagrid had already left, Harry looked around and noticed Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and a couple of boys his age coming out from it. He decided that the first thing he had to do was to get decent clothes so he went into it.
Since he knew the kind of effect he would get once he was recognized he decided that at least once in his life he would have the good cards of life. If he was famous he would get something out of it. He remembered a case that was all over the newspapers a couple of years ago. The only reason he remembered was because Vernon and his sister couldn't stop taking about it, saying that famous people could get away with anything since they knew other powerful people and nobody would like to be associated with that.
Once he entered he wouldn't flaunt that he was famous but he wouldn't hide it either. If he could get something out of it he would.
After entering into the store Harry noticed that a blond boy was already being measured for clothes.
"Excuse me, I'm here to be measured for my Hogwarts robes." He directed his request to the younger sales clerk, a pretty brunette with a pleasant robe that was opened at the front, very bright white teeth and a friendly smile.
"Sure thing young man. If you would step up in this stool right here..." At this point another sales clerk turned to her after seeing how Harry was dressed.
"Stop it Cammie, don't you see the boy probably doesn't have any money on him. Look at his clothes!" She looked again at his clothes with disgust written plainly in her face.
"Hey wait a minute..." Harry was starting to get irritated, he could pay, if only they let him speak he would be able to tell them.
"I don't care. He looks like a young gentleman. So young gentleman how can I help you?" After giving the other witch a nasty look she continue to give her attention to the apparently poor lad.
"I need a whole wardrobe. If you could get into your heart to help me choose... I'm awful in choosing colors and styles." He turned puppy dog eyes in her direction.
"Sure thing. I'd be happy to. Tell me you want a whole wardrobe? That will be pretty expensive, even with the cheaper choices..." She looked concerned for the boy.
"Don't worry about it, don't you mind choosing the cheaper ones either. I want all of the very best. What would be your most expensive material?"
She looked pleased and surprised.
"That would be acromantula's silk or Thestral's mane. The first one is a lot better but so much more expensive that I don't know if it is enough to be interesting for you to buy it."
"If it's the best then I want it." He decided that this was the way to live.
"Okay, if you say so. I go get the measure material, you just wait a minute okay?" she than went into a reserved part of the store while he jumped on the available stool.
He noticed a boy about his age white white blond hair and a pointed face. The boy looked at him and then at his clothes with the same kind of disgust the other clerk showed before. The only difference is that Harry could tell by the way the boy looked at everything and the kind of clothing material the boy was wearing that he was an upper class, so this was the kind of people he had to get along so that he would fit into society.
"Hi my name is Harry." He extended his right hand as he had seen his uncle Vernon do so many times with prospective new clients.