Chapter 1

A Realization

Harry was biting back tears again. The small five year old boy, with messy black hair and thin wire glasses was sick and tired of being blamed, beat up, and picked on! He had done nothing, and here he was locked in his cupboard under the stairs again; all because they were mad at him! He was the one being picked on! It was Dudley, their son, doing the hitting. He was fuming; he was mad; he was now crying.

He was Harry James Potter, the nephew of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive. He had come to live with them when he was about fourteen months old. He knew only that his birth parents had died in a car accident, and that his mother was his aunt's sister. He was not allowed to ask questions about them, or pretty much anything. He had a cousin about his age, Dudley, his bully. In his parent's eyes, Dudley could do no wrong. In Harry's eyes, just about all he did was wrong.

The Dursley's prided themselves on being perfectly normal. Vernon Dursley was a large round man with no neck and a large mustache. Mrs. Petunia Dursley was tall and thin with a very long neck and blond hair. They detested anything out of the ordinary. Harry was the greatest problem in their lives. It didn't seem to matter how hard Harry tried, he always seemed to disappoint them. He never seemed able to measure up. They never looked at him like they looked at Dudley; they never treated him like they treated Dudley; they didn't love him like they loved Dudley and Harry knew it.

It isn't seem to matter what Harry did, strange things would happen and Harry would get in trouble. In his own five year old way Harry was trying to figure out why the Dursleys continued to think it was his fault these things kept happening. They kept saying it was his fault, and he needed to stop. But, he didn't think he was causing any of these strange occurrences to happen. They obviously thought he was, were they right? Something inside Harry clicked, what if they were right? What if he was doing these things. They seemed certain it was him. What if they knew something he didn't! Could he control these things? If he could, maybe he could make the things happen the way he wanted. This thought had never occurred to him in all the time he could remember. He always believed it was not his fault, but things were happening more frequently, stranger things. These instances were harder to get out of and explain, even to himself. He now couldn't hide the fact that maybe the Dursleys were right. Maybe he was causing these things, maybe there was something different about him. He didn't think it was wrong, but maybe it was different.

Harry tried to look at the events from this new point of view. Strange occurrences generally happened when he was in trouble. That trouble was usually caused by his cousin Dudley and his group of friends, the Gang. They generally hunted and picked on Harry ruthlessly. Harry had become very adept at getting away from them and, for the most part, he was able to avoid them. He would hide, or be in a situation where he was around other adults. Thus, it was not in their best interest to pick on him. However, every now and then, they would be very alone, get Harry cornered, and that is generally when things turned weird. It was times like this that Harry became scared. Maybe that was it, Harry reasoned. When his emotions were high, things happened. Every time he tried to explain it, all he could come up with to say was, "it was like magic." This always sent his aunt and uncle into a rage. He remembered looking over to Dudley for support on that statement once and seeing a smirk on his face. Magic...could he do magic? Was magic...real? Every time he said that word he ended up in his cupboard. It made no sense to him unless….unless he could. They knew it, and they didn't want him to know it! And they certainly did not want him doing magic. But, magic was fake...right? Maybe there were some magicians who used tricks, but what if there was a kind of magic that was real?

Harry's head hurt. Dudley had pushed him down yesterday, and he'd hit is head. He reached up and felt the goose egg which was still tender. Tomorrow was his first day of school, and he was excited to get away from the house! He and Dudley were starting school together. Aunt Petunia had them in separate classes. He had listened in horror as Aunt Petunia told the school people that he was slow, and behind, and was not to be in the same class as Dudley. He was curious as to how all of this was going to work out. Tomorrow would tell. He was grounded to his cupboard for now. Apparently his hair had a mind if its own. Aunt Petunia had tried to cut it for school, messed it up beyond all belief, and then had the nerve to get mad at him this morning when it was back to normal! It had been a brutal tongue lashing, but at least he was not going to school with a half shaved head tomorrow. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him. He had not even tried to make his hair grow. It had just happened, like magic! He smiled as he fell asleep.

As it turned out, it didn't take long for the people at school to figure out Dudley was the problem and not Harry. It also didn't take them long to figure out telling Petunia this was not a solution. They also learned not to talk to Aunt Petunia about Harry, nor to praise him in a way Petunia or Dudley could find out. They took pity on Harry, but they could not save him from his situation. Harry, as it turned out, loved school. He quickly learned to keep a low profile and stay close to the adults to protect himself from Dudley's ruthlessness. But, other than this, he enjoyed being in the company of people who did not treat him as trash. The other kids had to keep a safe distance, or deal with Dudley, but that didn't seem to bother Harry too much. He wished he had some friends, but he didn't know what to tell them about his home life. He wasn't allowed to play with them outside of school either. Plus, his Aunt Petunia was always saying horrible things about him to anyone and everyone. He was sure the kids had been told by their own parents to stay away from him. Harry accepted it as his situation and dealt with it as best he could, he didn't want to get anyone else in trouble.

Harry was often found daydreaming. In his mind he was free to think whatever he wanted, be whatever he wanted, say whatever he wanted. There were no rules, and he was able to win. The life and the fun he had in his mind was his escape from his sad reality. In his mind's eye, he could play with friends the way he wanted and be whatever he imagined. He was laying under the bushes near the back fence of his garden doing such a thing. It was safe here, no one could see him. As long as he was back in the house in time to help with dinner he was fine.

Harry sighed, today had been a rough day for him as he left his daydreaming aside and came back to reality. He had done well on his exit exams from year one in school, too well. He'd done better than Dudley, and he knew there would be consequences for that. Even though he purposely missed as many as he thought he could get wrong without his teacher catching on. He looked at the paper with his grades and felt the dread in his stomach. He closed his eyes, focused and pleaded with the paper to change. He was sure he would be beaten and locked in the cupboard for a least a week if his aunt and uncle saw this paper, and it needed their signature! He could deal with Dudley's beatings, but Uncle Vernon was a different story. He was near tears with his internal pleadings. He nearly cried out when he opened his eyes again. The paper had changed! Just as he wanted! The grades were just slightly lower than Dudleys! Passing, but not good. That was the best thing to happen to Harry in weeks! Plus it was the biggest magic he had managed thus far. He sighed in relief and went inside.

Harry placed his school papers in Aunt Petunia's designated location and set about preparing dinner with a hidden happiness in his heart. He maintained his well practiced expressionless face as their normal evening routine proceeded.

"Our little Dudley's grades came into day," Aunt Petunia beamed!

"Top of his class I suppose," chimed Uncle Vernon.

"Yes, of course," Aunt Petunia lied. "Better than him," she motioned to Harry, "for sure, look for yourself."

Aunt Petunia handed him two pieces of paper. Vernon studied one and then the other. He made huffing sounds now and and then, but didn't say anything as he studied the papers. Harry looked at Dudley, he seemed a little nervous and gave Harry a look which said Harry would be in big trouble if things didn't do well for Dudley. Harry waited, getting more and more nervous. Harry was worried on two fronts. First, he was waiting to see how Uncle Vernon would react to the grades. Secondly, he was trying to calm himself. What good would it do him to succeed in changing his grades, if he messed up by doing some odd magic he didn't mean to do because he was nervous. It is a self made trap he thought to himself.

"Well, it is as we expected Petunia. After all we can only do so much," Vernon said looking at Harry. "Our boy is going to go places with grades like this!"

"Yes, our sweet Dudlykins," Petunia gushed.

Harry's stomach relaxed and he kept his head down as he cleared the dishes from the table and started the dishes. Dudley soaked up all the praise from his parents and sent gloating looks in Harry's direction every now and then. Inwardly Harry could not have asked for a better outcome. He went to his cupboard after finishing his chores, laid on his cot and stared at the underside of the stairs while his mind wondered.

How had he managed to change the grades? How could he make his toys move? Sometimes he could even get more than one toy to move a time. They were Dudley's old broken toys or little prizes from school Dudley had not taken from him yet. He had put quite a bit of time and effort this year in just being able to do these simple little things. He always made sure no one was around and that no one would know. He was determined to master this magic so it could help him, not get him into any more trouble. He was going to figure it out the best he could, no matter what. He worked on it every night after he was the Dursleys were asleep. Often times he fell asleep exhausted from trying so hard.

As they years wore on Harry's control continued to improve, but so did the Dursley's watchful eye. Dudley became a bigger bully, and an even bigger kid. He was easily three times Harry's weight. Harry was fast and great at hiding, but there were times he was caught. Harry looked like a kid no one cared about, which was close to the truth. In clothes many sizes too big for him, and given enough food for a kid half his age, Harry was small, thin and shy. He was good at sneaking food from school and keeping it in his cupboard for when they tried to starve him. By third year he mastered turning objects invisible, no one was taking his food again! Magic had become a survival method for him, but he still could not keep it under control when he became really scared. Thus, at least once every month or two, he ended up locked in his cupboard, which he only really minded when it was hot. He had also become the personal slave for his aunt and uncle. He did their cooking, cleaning, yard work and anything else they could think of to make him work. In truth, he really came to look forward to the work. It was a means of protection. If he was working, then he was safe from Dudley. He learned to tune out the insults and escape into the worlds he created in his imagination. By shear force of will he learned to use his magic to make up for what he was asked to do and physically could not. It was physically impossible for an undernourished young boy to accomplish all that was given him, yet somehow, he managed. If the Dursleys had any idea they were in fact forcing Harry to use his magic to accomplish all they gave him, they would be appalled. Harry went to bed every night and forced himself to practice his magic until he fell asleep from exhaustion some hours later.

In his fifth year of grade school (4th grade in the US) he was with his class visiting the local zoo. He was having a very contained good time. Dudley was of course there. So, he was keeping his standard low profile and trying to stay close to adults. They went into the insect and reptile house and started looking around. Harry was enjoying looking at all the different animals when they went to the snake room. Harry had too look down because his eyes became huge with a realization. He could understand the snakes! In his amazement he failed to keep up with the parent he was trying to stick close to and found himself alone. His next logical thought was...could they understand me like I can understand them? Cautiously he walked up to a large tank with a huge boa constrictor in it. The snake appeared to be asleep and Harry was able to be across the glass from his head. He looked around to make sure he was alone. Then he closed his eyes and focused as he had become accustomed to doing when he wanted to use his magic. Listening to all the hiss talking around him, he opened his eyes, looked at the snake, and whispered.

*Can you understand me snake?*

Silence...well at least all the snakes stopped hiss talking. Harry swallowed. He could only think of one reason all the snakes would stop talking. He looked at the huge snake in front of him. The snakes eyes were now open and looking right at Harry.

*Yesss,* the snake replied...somewhat hesitantly.

*Um...how come you can understand me?* Harry asked.

*Becaussse you are ssspeaking in sssnake language. I have never heard one of your kind ssspeak it before.*

The snake had now lifted its head and was looking at Harry.

When the snake moved other kids became interested and came over, and Harry dared not speak more. He was still in utter disbelief about what had just happened. He stepped back and looked at the other snakes, and then there was an explosion of snake voices, all talking over each other to the extent that Harry was not able to understand much. He was able to pick up an overall theme. They wanted out and they wanted to be able to be free, some were hungry too. Harry was starting to get nervous. Then he felt the all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew something was about to happen and the fear crept up his spine. He quickly found the volunteer parent he had been hanging around earlier when he heard a child scream. Everyone looked over to see the enormous boa constrictor leaving its enclosure. The glass was simply gone! Harry grabbed hold of the woman's hand and ran out with all of the other children. What had he done! He had not meant to do that, why did things like that have to happen! There was no way this was not going to get back to his aunt and uncle. Harry was rounded up with the rest of his class. They went to another part of the zoo, but Harry's heart was no longer in it. He stayed close to the parent volunteers for the rest of the day. On their way out they passed the snake house. It was closed. He hoped that the snake was able to be caught without any problems.

Harry was right, it didn't take long for his aunt and uncle to lay into him that evening. He looked at his shoes and said as little as he could get away with. Finally, it was determined he would spend a week in his cupboard and spend all day Saturday and Sunday cleaning Mrs. Figg's backyard garden...for free. Harry silently went to his "room," arguing would be pointless. He'd learned that years ago. He changed his uncomfortable cot into his cozy bed, something he had been improving on for years now. He could cancel it in an instant, and it made sleeping possible. He decided knowing he could speak to snakes was worth a few days labor, and a week of not having to deal with Dudley, his aunt, and uncle.

A few days later he was working away in his neighbor's backyard. He'd tried talking to other animals, but it had not been successful. It appears that snakes were the only ones with whom he could talk. He had scared away a few grass snakes in Mrs. Figgs yard before he was able to pick one up and actually get it to say something in response. He thought about keeping one for a pet, but the mental image of his aunt finding a snake in her house put the idea out of his head in a hurry. He had no idea what benefit this would have in his life, but it was cool. Mrs. Figg gave him plenty of water to drink and stale sandwiches to eat, but it was more than he would have gotten from his aunt, so he welcomed it. After two days, the yard looked presentable and Harry was rather pleased with himself. He was also exhausted. He had used quite a bit of magic to accomplish the task. There was no way a grown man could have done this in two days, let alone a scrawny ten year old boy. However, not finishing would have only caused more problems with his aunt. Hopefully both is aunt and Mrs. Figg would be unaware of what it would have actually taken to do the work. His aunt was clueless at home anyway. Mrs. Figg slipped him a five pound note. Harry thanked her and hid it in his sock and went home. He watched her talking to his aunt on the phone saying he did all she asked of him, and then, as she hung up, Harry walked out of the house. With his hands in his pockets and his head down he walked down the street and across to his home.

As he walked he felt the paper in his sock. He had never had so much money in his life! He had a collection of coins hidden in his cupboard. He kept them in a little box that was invisible. In total it was less than two pounds, and it had taken his entire life to collect it! Most of it was coins he had found here and there and put away. If anyone in his family found out he had a coin they would take it. So he learned to hide it. Once his aunt had found his stash, just a few coins, and accused him of stealing from them. That was when he started to figure out how to turn things invisible. This would soon join the other money, nice and invisible.

His aunt would take it upon herself to go through is things every once in awhile just to find something to yell at him about. He quickly learned to become selective with the things he kept in his cupboard. This had left him with the dilemma of finding a place to hide things he did not want to fall into the hands of 'family.' The answer came to him by accident. He had been running away from Dudley and his friends. He was scared and worried because it was a situation where he generally would be caught and beat up. He was cornered and he wished he was on the roof, then he was! He laid down waited for Dudley and his gang to leave he watched them until they were gone. Knowing he had done it once, he kept trying until he did it again. He barely made it home in time to start dinner. His cousin gave him the stink eye all night, but Harry played dumb and thought. This was a skill he could use. He had often wanted to get his hands on the things in the attic, but that was forbidden. If there was something in this house about his parents, he was sure it was up there. Asking about his parents was asking to be yelled at or beat, but if he could get up there without them knowing, maybe he could find something on his own.

He waited until he was sure everyone was asleep. He had seen up in the attic once while getting down holiday decorations. So he imagined the spot at the top of the stairs and focused. He closed his eyes and wished he was there. When he opened his eyes, he was there! Sitting in the dark and not sure where to go from this point. He took a small flashlight from his pocket clicked it on and looked around. It took one squeaky board for him to wish for silence, panic made his magic easier to use. Once he was sure no one had heard him, he went to the furthest corner from the entrance, to the side that was over Dudley's spare bedroom. There he built himself a hideaway surrounded on all side by boxes. He could move two to get in and out, but would always replace them before leaving. He also used the oldest boxes that had not been opened in years and would likely never be disturbed. Now, he would just come here and not worry about the rest of the attic. In his attic room is where he kept the things dearest to him. Mostly kind notes, good grades, and little toys he had acquired at school. If his 'family' were to see these things, they would have a fit. So he kept them hidden. Slowly, night by night he went through all of the things in the attic. He was looking for anything that would tell him something about his parents, about his life before he became a slave at number four Privet Drive. After about a month, he happened upon a box from Aunt Petunia's school days. At first it was nothing interesting. Then he found a shoe box inside. He opened it to find a bunch of letters. He opened the first one.

Dear Petunia,

I wish you could see this school, it is amazing! Never in my wildest dreams could have imagined it would have been like this. I am in house called Gryffindor. It is all the kids that I go to class with. There are four houses here at the school. You want to know something amazing. I know someone here. I couldn't believe it at first, but Severus Snape is here too! It is so great to have a friend here that I already know. He seemed pleased to know there was someone here he knew, too! It's almost time for bed, so I have to go. I will write again soon.

Love your sister,

Lily

Harry froze, it was his mother. His mother had written these words. Unbidden tears flowed freely over his face. He had found something. As time passed Harry cherished each letter his mother had written to her little sister. The school she was at sounded every different than any school Harry had ever heard off. It was like his mom was talking about something, but not able to go into too much detail. At first the letter were frequent, then they would slow down. Then a new school year would start and the letter would be more frequent again. It would seem from the letters that Petunia was a bit upset she was not able to attend the same school as her sister. Lily seemed to try and not make it seem like something Petunia was missing out on, but Harry could feel the distance between the two sisters growing over time. Harry searched the rest of the attic, but found nothing other than these letters and a few pictures of the Evans family. He had been told that his grandparents had died in car accident before he was even born and an article clipped from a newspaper seemed to confirm this. However, there was nothing about the car accident which had killed his parents and landed him here. This little hidden area of the attic became his favorite place in the world. Here he was not told what nor how to be, here he was safe. He reread the letters at least once a month. There were the only clue to his past.

It was the first day of summer after his fourth year of school and Harry tried to stay busy and out of the way. Since his help at Mrs. Figg's house worked out so well for her, she asked Aunt Petunia if Harry could maintain her lawn for her this summer. When she offered a small amount of money Aunt Petunia jumped on it. She said it was about time he started earning his keep. Yeah, he was their slave. He didn't say anything. He was happy to have another place to be other than 'home.'