The feeling has always been the same, every day, for the last few years. The hit of loneliness, abandonment, and just utter disappointment in his self. It was a rare day if the poor little boy that lost his parents actually felt happy. He was stuck in an orphanage, alone, with nothing but failure as his company. He would roam back and forth in his small room hoping one day to find something to make him happy. But he didn't, he just found more disapproval in himself and how his life was treating so far.
He spent around 2185 days in this seems to be hell. Yes, he counted. He would tally off each day and group them by the hundreds for a chance of easier tracking and counting. He didn't get along with many of the boys at the orphanage. He liked to hang around the smaller kids. They didn't care about what others say, they can't even understand what they would say. They were in the toddler years, and contrary from him being a few years older, he spent his time there. He has been in the orphanage since he was 6, he is now 11, and not much has changed. The only thing difference is the change in how vivid his memories were and how much he understood them. The adults told him he was really smart for his age, but he was sure they just said the same thing to most, in an attempt of a slight smile. He would smile, always, it would always be fake, but he would always smile.
Even as the kids called him "fairy Harry". It was not much of an insult but the fact they wanted him to feel insulted, hurt. He would always be captured in books. Yes, in more than a few instances you would catch him reading fairy tales about dragons, princes, princesses, fairies, and unicorns, but that is what he liked, and he had just enough confidence to stick with what he liked. While standing alone you gain a better perspective on the people around you and their behaviors. He noticed how people changed with age. The sweet little four year olds would turn into nose picking trouble makers. He decided that change comes quicker than what most would think.
As he would sit alone, there was a certain je ne sais quoi about it all. It was quiet and just peaceful. He may have not went outside but from what he reads he knows that it can be utter chaos, and it could also be beautiful, and joyful. He was afraid of the possibilities that laid before him, yet he was anxious to see what was to come.
There was talk between nurses that there was a new boy being admitted, a few years older than himself, apparently his mom gave him up for adoption because of a something 'horrific'. Then he misbehaved at other places, and apparently this is the only place that is able to handle his condition or summat. Harry didn't bother to listen more because it really wasn't his business But he grew with excitement because not many new kids came, sure this boy was older, but he may be just like Harry. He has a slim chance of actually gaining a friend.
Harry would never do anything rash, of course not, that would be stupid, and fairly irrational. He would simply watch and observe the boy, see if he is anything like him. Nothing weird about that, completely normal, totally. Harry was a logical thinker, he enjoyed to observe so now he waits until he sees the older boy, then he can see what he is like. He was kind of over excited, just the anticipation made his skin get goose bumps.
Harry had a routine. He would wake up, eat, shower, then brush his teeth. But today was different. He couldn't waste a minute. He had to grab his note pad, and wait for the new boy to arrive. It may seem odd but it was Harry. He liked to observe before taking any risks. He can't get hurt again. He had to be careful, the consequences could effect him. If this boy was anything like Harry he was when he first came he would be confused, even after years. Harry wanted to know what exactly this so called issue they speak of is. Maybe Harry could help him, he may be young, but he still wanted to help, and he was determined to try.
Harry didn't bother to change, he liked his pajamas and they were comfortable. He grabbed a pen and note pad and sat in the front room with the toddlers, again. But this time he didn't pay attention to the younger children, he just stared at the door way waiting for a nurse to come in with the new kid. He wanted to see him, analyse. Harry knew the new kid would be his new fascination, and he did not mind one bit. Harry grew tired of waiting like a lost puppy so he began doodling, nothing but scribbles and his name, but it kept him occupied.
While in the middle of doodling his y he heard a slight chime. His heart raced quickly because he knew that the chime signaled the door being opened. He looked up from his notebook to see a young boy, not too much older than himself, which he expected. He was stubby with his stubby hands and stubby feet and stubby face. Regardless the boy was more beautiful than he expected, with his shaggy hair and bright, yet dimmed, blue eyes. Harry likes seeing the beauty in everything and everyone, it may be seen as weird, but so was he. The boy seemed frightened and sad. He seemed normal though, the kids have a right to be sad and terrified because they have gone through a lot. But the nurses spoke of a condition most places could not contain, so why does he look so normal? Harry knows not every disorder is physical, but you would think even if it was mental you could see what was wrong. All this did for Harry was make him even more determined to study the boy and find out how to fix him. He always read in fairy-tales that the prince is supposed to save the princess, sure there is a gender difference, but that doesn't matter, he always thought that the standards for fairy tales where silly anyways.
He was going to save the boy, like Clarke Kent saves Chloe, multiple times.