A/N

This fic is something I am doing purely for fun, with no set writing schedule. I do have a few notes on the next few chapters, but there will be no updated schedule, chapters are done when they're done.

Most of my creative works are short stories/novellas. This is is me working on something long-form and multi-chaptered. Please review, I love feedback and constructive criticism. Enjoy!


Tuesday 31st of October 1989

It was Halloween. Not a time of year Harry particularly liked. Aunt Petunia had told him his parents had died on Halloween, drunk behind the wheel after a party. Apart from that Harry didn't know anything more about his parents, not even their names. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated when he asked questions, especially about his parents. The Potter's were a forbidden topic in the Dursley household and Harry had learned the hard way to hold his tongue as best he could. It was strange feeling, not knowing one's parents, an empty roiling sensation deep in his belly. Had they meant to abandon him? Did they love him? Would they be proud of him if they were alive now?

Harry sometimes tried to imagine what they must have looked like, did he look more like his mum or his dad, or maybe a mix both of both? Sometimes, when he thought very hard and tried to remember back to that fateful night, he got an impression of red hair. A brilliant fan of auburn strands overcome by a sinister flash of green. Lights from the car crash maybe? His scar itched uncomfortably as he thought back to that night, and he rubbed the mark on his brow distractedly. The scar was the only reminder he had of his parents and of that fateful night. It was a thin and jagged line in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Despite having the scar for a great many years, it still looked red and brand new, as if it had only recently begun to heal over. Of all his physical features, he liked his distinctive scar the most, although it did tend to draw the attention of teachers and other children. Unfortunately, his hair defied gravity at the best of times and refused to sit flat over the scar whenever he wanted to hide it.

Harry glanced to the clock, only a few more minutes of detention left. Mr Emerson looked like he was asleep, and so did several of the other students. Most teachers would have them do lines or homework in detention, but Mr Emerson was an old and decrepit man that fell asleep in the middle of his own classes. The teacher snored loudly and the magnificently large grey moustache atop his lip twitched dramatically, creating the impression of an agitated spider about to leap upon its prey. Crossing his arms across the scratched desk, Harry fidgeted restlessly with the frayed threads on the sleeves of his thin and oversized school jumper. Resting his cheek against his forearms and directing his green eyes out the grimy window, he tried to think of anything except his unknown parents. But the more effort he put into not thinking about it, the more difficult it became to banish the morose thoughts.


Harry was startled out of his doze when an alarm on Mr Emerson's desk began to ring loudly. The old teacher snorted and jerked awake, coming perilously close to toppling backwards off his chair. Slamming his hand down with a surprising show of force, the alarm abruptly cut off under the pressure of the wrinkled hand. Dazed students groggily blinked the sleep out of their eyes and waited for the dismissal of the teacher, which came out as an incomprehensible grunt and absent wave of a hand. Gathering his notebook and pen, Harry wasted no time in stuffing them unceremoniously into his backpack and making a speedy escape. He hadn't deserved the detention in the first place and had no intention of staying any longer than necessary. Anger bubbled in his chest as he thought of his cousin Dudley, a morbidly obese bully with a flop of blonde hair and considerable lack of intelligence. Harry often thought he looked like a pig in a wig, and acted like one too.

Heading out of the detention classroom in the direction of the library, Harry was determined to avoid attention from staff and any students on the school-grounds. The chances of running to other students at this time was higher than usual, not just because of football training on Tuesday afternoons, but because of the Halloween Party that was being held at five o'clock for all students.

"Hey, shouldn't four-eyes be done with detention by now?" a reedy voice asked from around the corner.

Harry froze in his tracks, the voice belonged to Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend. Not wanting to get caught out, Harry scanned the corridor for an escape route. He could go back the way he came, or risk the nearby classroom door. He made the decision in a split second and darted over to the door. He tried to be as silent as possible, and hoped fervently that door would be unlocked. Reaching for the handle, he was dismayed when it would not budge.

"Yea, why don't we go find him and tell him thanks for getting us out of trouble!" replied the voice of Richard Sellicks.
Obviously they didn't really mean to thank him, Harry thought, the tone of voice was far to cruel and insinuating. Not to mention, he doubted that Dudley or his gang would ever sincerely thank him for anything.

Harry panicked, if he started running they would hear him and give chase. He was fast, but it was a risk. The footsteps of the gang were getting closer, and he turned to the door, wishing that it was only jammed and not locked. Come on, open! Please, just open! he thought anxiously. His heart was pumping hard and fast in his chest, blood rushing to his head as adrenaline flooded his system. As laughter drew closer to him, his panicked nerves frayed, and a rush of something went through his spine and sparked out of his fingers. The door clicked and the handle gave way. Stumbling into the empty classroom, Harry quickly hid behind the door, closing it as slowly as he could to avoid drawing attention from the boys which had just turned the corner.

Harry's breathing was fast and shallow, but he clamped his hands tightly over his mouth and nose to smother the sound. The voices and laughter approached, Harry stilled his entire body. Tense and ready for fight for flight, he trembled and wondered if the beating of his heart would give him away by how loudly it was thundering in his chest. The wait for the danger to pass was agonisingly slow, each second an eternity in itself.

Eventually, silence reigned supreme and Harry allowed himself to relax. He slumped down heavily, gulping down breaths of air and giving his pulse time to settle back to its normal pace.

Dudley was the leader of small posse of five children. His best friend was a skinny, rat-faced boy names Piers Polkiss. Piers was thin and fast, and was very good at catching up with children who tried to escape the gang. Despite being a fast runner himself, Harry was caught and tackled by Piers just as often as he got away. Without Piers, Harry would have no trouble escaping the rest of the gang.

Ranked second after Piers was Richard Sellicks, a broad-shouldered youth with a posh accent and talent for coming up with pranks that promised pain and humiliation for their victim. Their victim usually being Harry. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon strongly approved of the friendship between their darling 'Dudders' and Richard Sellicks, as the Sellicks's were a rather upper-class family from the 'right sort of crowd' as Uncle Vernon would say. Richard was well liked by most teachers, and was the best of the lot at talking the gang out of trouble and making it out as if Harry was the guilty party. The boy had cruel glint to his dark eyes, and took great pleasure in tormenting children of all ages.

On the other hand, there was Barry Topps, the son of a man who worked on the factory floor of Grunnings Drills. Uncle Vernon regularly complained about his employees during dinner, calling them 'needy sods' who "are always asking for more pay and better conditions, as if Grunnings is a charity or some nonsense". Barry was probably only friends with Dudley because of pressure from his father, Harry thought. Even Dudley, who was as thick as a brick wall, thought Barry was a bit dim. The square faced boy had a permanent look of confusion on his face and was capable of understanding only the simplest of instructions. Dudley was more than happy to boss the poor boy around and let him take the fall for any trouble they got into. In all honesty, Harry wasn't sure if Barry enjoyed being a bully, but he never stood up for any the of the gang's victims and never pulled his punches, so Harry didn't feel particularly forgiving either way.

Ellis Roberston was another of Dudley's gang, he had a wicked temper and often got into trouble during class time. He got caught often enough, as he had a tendency to lash out at every perceived insult sent his way. The teachers gossiped with each other, saying how nice and thoughtful Dudley and Richard were in reaching out to the troubled boy. Richard, with his smooth tongue, didn't hesitate to play into the misconception and covered for the boy with outrageous lies about Ellis having difficulties with his home life.

The last member of the gang was Finley Burne, a boy as large as Dudley and just as nasty. The two of them with Barry and Ellis were a tag team in intimidating younger and smaller children, stealing snacks, lollies, and money from their prey. Barry and Piers acted as lookouts, with Richard distracting any teachers heading their way.

The six of them had earned Harry his detention by making a mess of the art supplies room during lunch time. Mrs Cart, an elderly dumpy woman with an ostentatious blonde wig and stern expression, had discovered the mess shortly after the break and made known her disappointment and anger at the offending party during the next class. Dudley and his gang had all immediately raised their voices, stating that they had seen Harry loitering around the room during lunch time. Even though the other students had spotted Harry hiding out by the library during lunch, no one dared to go against the intimidating bullies. They were too scared that they would be next, and they were all happy enough to let oddball Harry, with his baggy clothes and broken glasses, to be the favoured punching bag of Dudley. Mrs Cart hadn't bothered to hide her exasperated sigh at another of Harry Potter's misdeeds, and immediately issued him with a detention slip. Harry knew better than to protest, the teachers never believed him anyway and the other students just looked away and avoided eye contact if he passed his pleading gaze over them.

Later that afternoon in detention he was being ignored by the sleeping teacher and dozing students that he didn't even look at or acknowledged. There was no point in trying to be friendly with them, none of them would risk coming to the attention of Dudley and his gang. All the students, even the older ones, were terrified of being associated with Dudley's favourite victim, it would bring them too much trouble.

Harry was always Dudley's favourite prey, and having just avoided another confrontation he was keen to slip away to his favourite hiding place, a storage cupboard beneath the stairs in the library. Knowing that he'd probably be going to bed hungry and getting a good smack from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, he decided regardless to stay at school after his detention.

There was never much opportunity for a freak like him to go to any sort of party, and he longed to find out what it was like to be part of one for just once in his life. He was in luck, because tonight was Halloween and the school was holding a small event for the was no chance with him getting into trouble with the school for attending.

There would be music, snacks, and teachers would have all sorts of games for everyone. In previous years Harry had not been allowed to go when the Dursley's took Dudley, and instead was locked in the cupboard. But now was his chance to have fun, even if did cost him later. It would be a little while more to wait, but Harry was comfortable in his little nook in the library, as much as it reminded of his 'room' back at Privet Drive. Sure, it was a little filthy, and there were cobwebs and spiders all around, but he felt safe in the small space. An oversized beach ball like Dudley would have a hard time fitting through the entrance, so Harry was confident he would not be found too quickly if they came looking. It probably helped that the whole band of pre-pubescent thugs were allergic to books, decreasing the chance of them being anywhere near the library by a considerable amount. Not to mention, they had been heading in entirely the opposite direction when Harry had narrowly avoided them.

To pass the time, Harry pulled a book out of his bag. He hadn't bothered to get the book out during detention, too ashamed and embarrassed about the possibility of other students seeing it. Despite being nine years old, he was holding a picture book aimed at much younger children. The truth was, that Harry was far behind his class mates when it came to class work. The Dursley's hadn't cared about teaching him things like reading and writing. Even when starting school at the age of 5, all the other students had at least some grasp of basics, but Harry was starting from scratch. He tried to hide it as best as he could, embarrassed by his incompetence and the skill of the other children. It worked well enough considering that the Dursley's enjoyed telling the teachers about what an utter misbehaving menace he was. With the seeds of suspicion already planted in the minds of the teachers, Harry escaped their notice and slipped through the cracks, his progress determined more by his own will to learn rather than the pace of the classroom.

It was slow going at times, but having a moment of quiet was a good opportunity to enjoy a short picture book about a princess with a paper bag dress challenging a dragon. The silly story was a spark of brightness in his dull and miserable life. He took his time, sounding out the letters bit by bit, having to guess some of the harder words. He glowed in self-satisfaction every time he learned a new word, but it faded rapidly when there was no one to share his achievements with. Even if he did have someone to share with, they would surely laugh if they knew how far behind he really was.


As the day darkened, Harry eventually slinked out from his hiding place. Heading around the buildings to where the assembly hall was by the oval. As he neared, he could hear that the preparations were nearly completed. There were streamers, silhouette cut outs of witches, hats, and cauldrons, and plastic critters like spiders, bats, and snakes hanging from the ceiling and stuck to the walls. Trestle tables with festive tablecloths were set up along the back wall, with parents setting out bowls of sugary snacks, pies, and pasties, as well as popular varieties of fizzy drink and juices.

A jolly looking older man was in one of the corners of the room, filling up balloons with helium from a large tank set up beside him. Some of the children that had arrived early to help were busy scribbling on the balloons, drawing silly faces or writing short messages. Harry could spot at least one Happy Birthday message on a balloon. Obviously, someone thought that they were being very funny, or maybe someone did have a birthday today and would be pleased to see it.

Harry sulked by one of the windows as he watched more tables and activities being set up, wary of being seen and being pulled into the chaos taking place. He watched enviously as other children laughed with their parents or with teachers. After all, he was a trouble maker, and adults were suspicious of him. His sense of fashion certainly didn't help, he looked like a delinquent in his ratty and oversized uniform, courtesy of Dudley.

Still watching the preparations with rapt attention, he could feel anticipation bubbling up inside him. He couldn't wait to try some of the fizzy drinks, and maybe some sweets too. The Dursley's barely fed him properly, and sugary treats were reserved especially for Dudley and never him.

So distracted was Harry with his thoughts that he never noticed the figure creeping up behind him. He couldn't even make a sound of surprise as he was grabbed from behind. A hand slapping down hard over his mouth, while another arm wrapped around his waist. He struggled briefly as the larger form dragged him backward a few steps, and turned slightly. The turn brought Harry face to face with Dudley, who was smiling gleefully.

"We've been looking for you, freak." said Dudley, stepping forward and punching Harry hard in the gut. Harry groaned in pain, but his struggling was too weak to free himself from whichever boy was holding him tight.

"I hope you like Halloween surprises," continued Dudley, "because we have a special one 'specially for you."
The sniggering from Dudley was far from pleasant, and for the second time that afternoon Harry felt the insidious creep of panic and fear.


And there's chapter 1. Next chapter we find out what Dudley and his gang have planned for poor Harry. Follow to find out!

As usual, reviews feed the muse and critiques appreciated.

Cover art is Night Call by ligga on

7/11/17: light editing for typo's