Have you ever had that feeling in your life, where you knew you couldn't do anything about your fate? Like physically couldn't do it. That is how I am now. Locked away like an animal, and only given minimal food and water. On top of being locked in a cage and starved, I was also chained to the wall by the neck, wrists, and ankles.
It was very difficult to sleep sometimes. The only times I got sleep was when I got beaten into unconsciousness, or passed out from exhaustion. It was also very hard to get the minimal food and water they provided me with. The only way he would give me water and food, was if I did everything he wanted.
I usually did it too.
I was always weak and worn down, with no fight left in me. Just like he wanted. Oh yeah, guess I forgot to mention something. My name is Hadrian James Potter, but I go as Rian, because when people call me Harry, it reminds me of my less than perfect life. I am currently eleven years old, and I just got back from my first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a few days ago.
You're probably wondering who he is and who they are. They are what most refer to as my relatives, and he is who people refer to as my uncle. Vernon married my aunt Petunia and had one child, Dudley. They lived in neighbourhood with cookie-cutter houses, exactly the same, apart from the people who lived in them, how their gardens look, and how they decorated inside.
Every house on Privet Drive has four bedrooms, an attic, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a basement. Number Four wasn't any different. The first (the master) bedroom of this particular house was Vernon and Petunia's bedroom. I don't refer to them as 'aunt and uncle' because I would prefer not to recognize any them as family. The second bedroom was Dudley's room, well, that along with the third room. The third room was basically a storage room for all the broken and unwanted toys that Dudley has ever had.
That leaves the fourth bedroom. The guest bedroom. It was really only ever used when Vernon's sister, Marge, visited them in the quaint little town of Little Whinging. She often brought along her dog Ripper, who stayed with me in the basement terrorizing me until daybreak. Not that Marge actually knew I was down here, Vernon always brought Ripper down.
That kind of leads us to where I am now. Locked in the basement, chained to the wall, starving, and waiting in agony for when Vernon got home to beat me again for the eighth time since he got home. I have been beaten twice each day since I got home. That was how I keep track of time here. I got beaten once before he leaves to work, and once when he gets home. Petunia cleaned the house while he was away, but if you ask me, I would tell you she has an extreme case of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). She would only acknowledge me when Vernon told her to get me a slice of bread and half glass of water. The bread was often stale, and the water would have a weird taste to it. Other than that, she never paid any attention to me.
I shifted in my restraints, trying to get more comfortable while I waited for Vernon. I thought about my time at Hogwarts, and how nobody ever noticed the condition I was in. Not even Madam Pomphrey or Professor McGonagall, my head of house, noticed. I remember how Ron and Hermione would bicker over every little thing, and eventually got so frustrated with each other they would look at me for help, but all I could do was shrug because I didn't really understand what the argument was about.
Oh, I forgot to mention one more thing. I am mute and partially deaf.
When I was younger, when Vernon first put me down here, I would scream till I was hoarse. He eventually got so irritated with me, he hired someone to surgically remove my vocal cords. I was six. Not even a year later, I got an ear infection, and seeing as how the Dursley's would never take me to a doctor, it never got treated, and I didn't get some of my hearing back. Sometimes it twinges in a ghost-memory of when the infection took place.
So going to Hogwarts is slightly difficult for me. It is hard to hear the professor's different lessons for each class, and seeing how I couldn't speak, I had to work twice as hard as most of the students at Hogwarts. The students learn wordless magic in sixth year, so I am just learning it about five years earlier than everybody. For the past year, I have been given separate lessons in private from Professor McGonagall after dinner in her office.
She taught me how I need to think of the intent of the spell, and visualize what I want to do with the spell. I learned that the words of the spell were not that important, it was only the meaning behind the words that counted. So I decided to teach myself Latin, Italian, and French. Even though I couldn't speak it, doesn't mean that it wouldn't be useful to learn.
I was knocked of my ever-consuming thoughts by a series of heavy thuds getting progressively closer and louder. Though when they were nearest to me, I was overwhelmed by the overpowering stench of alcohol that was wafting into the basement from the stairs.
I knew that it would be a bad beating tonight, and I would be unconscious before it was over.
"Listen up Freak," Vernon began threateningly, "I am not going to stand for any of your shit any longer. By tomorrow morning, you will not be bothering my family anymore. Not with any of your freakish belongings, and certainly not that bloody owl. Oh, she was dead a long time ago, boy. Killed the pigeon myself." The fat whale taunted me with the feelings I held for my beloved friend, and taunted me with the feelings I had towards my friends who were waiting for me to return to them alive.
Alive, if not slightly damaged.
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Then there was the feeling of hopelessness that closed in around you when you knew there was nothing you could do to oppose it? That's how I felt right then. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of this. Nothing would ever be able to save me.
Vernon grinned in a maniacal way towards me, knowing that he had finally broken my will to live. I thought my life was over. I thought I would never see my friends again. Never read another book, never sleep in an actual bed again.
Never return to Hogwarts.
Hogwarts is where I believe my home to be, where I read my first real book in public. Since the Dursley's never let anybody ever see me, I never went to primary school. I taught myself to read before I was thrown in the basement. I read the stories of Cinderella, Snow White, and Rapunzel hundreds of times in my head. I memorized the words before I knew the meaning of half of them.
That was another thing I found out when I got to Hogwarts. I had photographic memory. I didn't need to study, but I did anyway, even if just to read more books. Thy were the one escape from this endless torture.
I was violently thrown out of my thoughts once again by Vernon kicking me in the stomach. I groaned silently, unable to make a sound. He repeated the motion, then proceeded to torture me by kicking my broken legs, which was the result of what happened a couple days ago. Vernon would often beat me till I was unconscious, but lately he has taken to breaking bones, and carving words into my skin.
I know he hasn't been in his right mind since I got back from school, he had the crazy maniacal look in his eye that could never go away.
He has been drinking a lot since he got demoted at Grunnings. He blamed it on me, obviously, and while drunk in a fit of rage, he broke my legs. Then, when he lost a job to drill something to somebody else, he decided that he would break my right arm in retaliation for what he thought as, "Your freakish powers made me lose my job to Mason! You will pay for that Freak!"
So here I am. Broken, beaten, chained to a wall and starved, waiting for the death that was surely to come by morning.
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I don't remember when it happened, but as soon as I woke up from unconsciousness I knew two things right off the bat. Number one: Vernon failed in his mission to kill me. Number two: I was no longer in the basement chained to the wall. I was near the opening of an alley between two buildings, and people were passing by me without a second thought.
I didn't know if my friends cared about me anymore. I didn't really care, after all, I was going to die anyway, right? I didn't get a single letter from them, not that it would matter, even if did they sent one. Vernon would have burned it straight away. Besides, owls can't get into the basement.
I sat up a little more on the side of the building, and scooted my way over to the mouth of the alley, to see if anybody would help me. I sat holding my arm against my stomach looking at every single person that passed by, each one looking back at me in sympathy, but not willing to do anything. I heard snippets of conversation from them, not that I was actively trying to eavesdrop or anything.
"Thank God we came to London, we were running short-"
"Pizza Express was delicious, we should go there again soon."
"We turn left here darling, not on Bear Street. Honestly,"
I heard some more, and figured out I was in London, somewhere near a Pizza Express, if the person had just left. I slumped against the wall. There were probably 30 Pizza Expresses in London. Though, since the older lady that had passed by said Bear Street, I figured I was somewhere around there.
I looked up and down the street, searching for anything or anyone that would be familiar to me. Not that that would happen though. The only time I had ever been to London was to get my supplies for Hogwarts, and to go to Kings Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express.
As it happens, I didn't see anything familiar, but I did see a patch of Weasley-red hair coming towards me. I didn't recognize him of course, I had only met some of them. That included Mrs. (call me Molly) Weasley, Ron, Ginny for a brief time, Fred, George, and Percy. Ron had mentioned that he has two older brothers, along with his father, but they all had to work when I met the rest of the family.
By now, the redhead was almost all the way towards me. I watched anxiously, half praying for him to save me, half praying he would leave me alone (I have a lot of internal conflicts, if you hadn't noticed).
In the end, he stopped up in front of me, squatting down, and offering his hand as he spoke to me. "Hello there, my name is Charlie. I thought you might want some help. Did you want something to drink?" I hesitantly nodded my head, but did not reach out to take his hand just yet. "Perfect! What's your name?"
I frowned, then tilted my head up to show the scar running across my neck, and pulled up my pant legs to show the damage done there, doing all of this with my left hand. He nodded in understanding, and asked if he could pick me up and carry me. Simple question. Not so simple answer.
I wanted to trust him, I really did, but I didn't know if I could. I had just met him, and it seemed like he had no ulterior motives, but that can't be true. Everyone has ulterior motives.
He smiled at me, and held out his hand once more seeing my hesitation. I was still hesitant. He seemed so familiar, yet he was a stranger. He was offering me food, yet I am not sure if my stomach would be able to handle anything.
It was hard to decide what I wanted, but the offer of food and companionship was too good to pass up. It was the first time I had ever done this, and it felt great.
I think this was the feeling one would describe as happiness. Well, that or I am seriously delusional. Ron and Hermione seemed happy all the time. I knew what the word 'happy' meant because I was reading the dictionary at the beginning of the year, just so I could know what words meant when being said.
The definition of happy was feeling or showing pleasure or contentment. They smiled almost all the time, unless when they were fighting with each other. Or when Ron was working on his homework. That almost always happens for about one hour after supper everyday, when he was complaining about how much he had to do, and then eventually doing it anyways.
Charlie reminded me of Ron. From the red hair to the freckles, it was almost as if we were sitting beside the dying embers that lay beside us in the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.
He was talking to me. Not at me. I knew he didn't expect an answer to anything he asked or said, but I knew it was kind of a full round conversation. My expressions were apparently enough to complete my end of the conversation.
We walked a little way further down the street, and headed into a café. We sat down at a booth, and he carefully placed me into my seat. He flagged down a waitress to get menus for us both, along with a pen and paper. I looked at him curiously.
He shrugged, replying with, "What can I say? One-sided conversations are fun and all, but I think that if you were able to answer it would be even better!" He grinned once again, and once the waitress returned with the menus along with the pen and paper, he proclaimed to me in a funny voice, "Pick your poison, my dear."
He tipped his non-existent hat, and I giggled (read: chuckled very manly) silently. I then turned my attention to the menu before me. There were so many choices! Eggs benedict, the early bird, the two deal (two eggs, two pieces of toast, two sausages, bacon, or ham), and more. I hesitantly looked back up at Charlie, to find him engrossed with his own menu.
Looking back down, I finally decided on just two eggs, and one piece of toast. After another minute, the same waitress came back to our table and asked what we wanted to drink. Charlie, having seen me panic, took charge and ordered one glass of water, and two glasses of orange juice.
The first time I had orange juice was at Hogwarts. It was the best thing I had ever tasted, other than the treacle tart that is.
Charlie started talking again. He asked me to write down my name.
Hadrian Potter. Call me Rian please.
"Rian huh? I think I like Hadrian better. Would it be alright if I called you that instead?" I nodded, not really caring as long as it wasn't Harry. "Great! Next question. Why were you in the alley?"
My uncle put me there. Please don't ask.
"Alright." He frowned briefly, then smiled, "Now, are you ready to eat?" I looked at him confused, turned around when he pointed behind me, and my eyes widened in understanding.
The waitress had returned with our food, and bid us farewell with a final, "Enjoy."
When I took my first bite of the food, I suddenly got overwhelmed with the intense feeling of joy. Joy so pure and good I never wanted to let it get away from me. It had all come from him. Charlie Weasley. Dragon expert, and hotter than the sun. I had never met him before, but I was quickly beginning to crush on him.
I didn't know if I was bi or just plain gay, but it didn't really matter as much as when I was with Charlie. I think, that I could slowly start healing.
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It has been a week since Charlie found me in the alley and took me to that restaurant. He took me to his house in Romania, near the dragon reserve so that he could still have a stable income. He took me to see them once, the dragons. I felt scared and excited all at once. I have only ever seen one before, and it was a baby one.
I almost passed out when Charlie said that I could go up to one. It was the Norwegian Ridgeback Norbert that Hagrid had back at Hogwarts in his wooden hut.
"We call her Norberta now, seeing as how she is a girl and everything" I blushed when he said that, knowing that he knew that we called the dragon Norbert through corresponding with Ron. He glanced down at me and smiled. He knew what I was thinking, because he had found a spell that would allow him to hear what I was thinking when he realized that my hand was going to hurt from writing so much. Sapgere (Sap-gai-re) was the spell he used if I remember right, which I would because of my photographic memory and all.
"Don't get too wrapped up in your thoughts, my little snake, it could be dangerous~" That was what Charlie usually called me. "Little Snake" because he also knew that I was almost sorted into Slytherin. I'm glad I didn't though, otherwise I probably wouldn't have met Charlie.
I look up at the rebellious redhead, and I nod my head with a smile. It didn't last long though, because I turned my head back to the fully-grown Norberta and swallowed thickly. I was shaking like a leaf, pressed against Charlie's side.
I don't understand what I am feeling. Is it fear? Is it panic? Is it apprehension? I can't understand what is playing inside my own mind. The only one who could read my emotions better is Charlie, and I don't even think he understands feeling was roaring in my concave stomach, and nothing is able to quell it.
"Hadrian, if you want me to, I won't leave your side, and I can hold your hand throughout the whole thing. It's up to you." Suddenly, like someone poured water on it, the fire in my belly was extinguished with just a few kind words and a kinder smile.
Please. Please help me understand. That is all that was circulating through my mind for a moment, but Charlie understood. I want him to help me understand my feelings, why I am different from the rest, and why nobody ever helped me before that day he found me in the alley with nothing but my horrible past and a broken body.
"I will do whatever needs to be done so that you are 100 percent healthy again." I smiled widely, and nodded once with conviction. I wouldn't give up on myself if I had someone supporting me all the time, ensuring I wouldn't slip back into the endless darkness that previously consumed my life. I took a hesitant step in the direction Norberta was in, Charlie stepping with me. I kept my eyes on the ground, afraid of what I would see if I looked any higher. I watched as my feet, newly adorned with dragon-fire proof work boots, went along with the well-worn ones beside me.
I finally recognized the feeling as excitement. I have never felt this much excitement before, and now that I had someone to share in this moment, I feel like I could overcome almost anything, including school, and the bullies that taunted me.
I only stopped walking when I could see the talons of Norberta, along with the warm puffs of air escaping from the dragon's nostrils. I looked up… and up… and up, and even higher than that till my head was almost tilted 90 degrees from its normal position to look at the face of the dragon before me. I knew that I was scared, but with Charlie with me, it didn't matter as much. Norberta expelled another breath onto the both of us, and I felt myself smile. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding, and I softened my harsh grip on Charlie's hand.
"Good, you're doing great Hadrian. Just keep going like that. I am so proud of you." I smiled wider hearing those words coming from his mouth. I loved the praise, it made me feel like I wasn't so much of a burden anymore. Even though it gave me a euphoric feeling, I knew it wouldn't last. Charlie would see me for the freak I am and never talk to me again. I didn't want that to happen. I let go of his hand completely, but before the appendage his my side, it was snatched back into Charlie's grasp while his other hand guided my head towards the crook of his neck. "There we are Little Snake. Just copy my breathing, that's it. You're doing great."
As my breath slowed down, it hitched once again when I realized that he heard all of the thoughts circling in my head. I was calm enough now to realize that I was exhausted, and felt completely safe for the first time in my conscious memory. With that in mind, I collapsed into Charlie's arms not for the last time.
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It has been four years since the summer Charlie rescued me from the ally. In that time, I got used to being mute, and have given some people to hear my thoughts without me having to use the pen and paper. Charlie and I even made the spell better by allowing me to conceal some of my more private thoughts, rather than broadcast them to everybody linked to the spell. Between the two of us though, we still use Sapgere (Sap-gai-re) rather than the new spell Saprrego (Sap-ray-go).
Charlie and I never kept any secrets from each other, and we grew more accustomed to each other, just as our feelings grew. I loved Charlie with all of my heart, even if it may have started with hero worship at first. My feelings grew further still though. I have a feeling Charlie's did too, but nobody would ever allow our relationship with our age difference and me being so close to his family, like I was one of their own.
I condemned myself to feelings of longing and uncertainty for the rest of the time I would be living with him for. I only need to finish off Voldemort, survive, then get a stable job and life until a time where my crush would evaporate. I only hope it happens soon, I don't know how much longer I can live with somebody who will never return the feelings I have hidden in the dark.
A/N: Hi guys! I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I have been working on this story and A Chance for Family for around a year trying to get them posted for you. I have most of chapter 4 done for A Chance for Family, and I hope that I find inspiration to finish. Please rate and review my stories as this fuels my motivation to actually write. Thanks, and stay posted!