Harry Potter and the Way of the Assassin
Chapter 1 - Ditchin' the Dursleys
Seven year old Harry Potter was rudely awoken from his sleep by a loud pounding on the door of the cupboard where he slept. Brushing cobwebs from his face, he sat up and tried to remember what he had been dreaming about. It was a funny dream, one about a huge shaggy black dog which seemed to take unbounded pleasure in licking him all over his face. He was jolted from his reverie as someone banged the door of his cupboard even louder.
"Boy! You need a sound whipping today, do you? Get your sorry self out here before I break down this door!"
Harry was surprised to hear his Uncle Vernon's voice. It was his aunt who usually woke him up in the mornings. Then he groaned as he remembered that it was his Aunt Petunia's birthday. This meant that it was a day off cooking and cleaning for her, as Vernon and his son Dudley took over the kitchen. This in turn of course meant that both father and son whales sat on the kitchen table and barked out orders as Harry scurried about, doing the cooking and cleaning. Her last birthday had tired Harry so much that slept that night for fourteen hours straight, oblivious to the pounding on his cupboard's door. The thrashing that followed had been one of the worst ever.
Sighing, he put on Dudley's castaway clothes and crept out. As he went towards the kitchen to prepare breakfast, he heard his uncle's booming voice calling him into the living room. Harry was surprised to see his 'family' sitting dressed and ready to go out.
"Today's your aunt's birthday, and we all are going to the beach for the day. Now I will not tolerate you causing any trouble, boy", said Vernon.
Harry brightened up considerably upon hearing this. Sure, he'd have to spend the day with that batty old lady eating stale food and looking at pictures of cats, but anything was better than breaking his back cleaning the house.
But his uncle wasn't finished yet. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Figg has gone for some meeting, so we cannot leave you with her. So you are going to spend this day locked up in the attic, so grab some food and run up there, IMMEDIATELY", he finished with a smirk.
This statement deflated Harry's good mood surprisingly fast. He scurried into the kitchen and grabbed whatever food he could find, along with a bottle of water. He also had the presence of mind to take a few candles and a matchbox. The attic did not contain any form of lighting. Soon he was securely locked up inside the attic, and he heard the front door close and the car starting.
Very quickly severe boredom took over Harry in the dark, musty attic. So he lit a candle and decided to search through the dusty piles of junk strewn about. He started going through boxes of old magazines, broken electronic parts and some plumbing equipment.
As he was going through some tapes with pictures of scantily clad women (which he was sure belonged to his uncle), he spotted a trunk in a corner with a large caption that read 'Property of Lily Evans'. Harry's heart started hammering; he knew his mother's name was Lily, and hers and Petunia's maiden name was Evans. His parents were, however, an enigma to him, as any discussion initiated by him about them was hastily quelled, often with a blow on the ears. Quickly he scrambled to the trunk. His glasses fell out and he nearly screamed as the lid flew open as soon as he touched it.
An hour later, young Harry sat dazed, trying to summarize what he had learnt from his mother's trunk. He had found several thick books with funny titles such as 'The Standard Book of Spells' (Grades 1, 2 and 3), 'Transfiguration for Beginners' and 'The Green Wand – An introduction to Herbology'. There were also some letters informing his mother about commencement of a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry along with certificates that declared his mother to have successfully completed her first, second and third years at the same. There was also a small, thin piece of wood that tapered towards one end. Thus Harry came to an inevitable conclusion – his mother, and probably his father had been magicians of some sort, and had attended some school that was dedicated to teaching magic.
This knowledge awakened a new feeling in Harry, a desperate thirst to find out more about the mysterious new magical world that he had discovered in that trunk. So he picked up a book titled 'A Muggleborn's Guide to Magic' and began reading in the candlelight.
Seven hours later, the last candle went out, leaving Harry in darkness and desperation to read more. He had learnt a lot about the secret parallel world of wizards, about their currency, The Ministry of Magic, and the various branches of magic. He had come to the conclusion that his mother had been muggleborn as she owned this book, and also as her sister was undoubtedly non-magical. He also realized that the piece of wood he had found was a wand, but he did not dare try anything with it for fear of incurring the wrath of the ministry, as he had read about restrictions placed on underage wizards.
As he sat and waited for the Dursleys to return, he decided not to ask them anything about the trunk he had found. Either they did not know about the magical world, or they were doing their best to ignore it completely. Harry did not think their reaction would be helpful or pleasant either way. So when at last he heard the front door open, he quickly stuffed the book in his waistband and put the rest of the stuff in the trunk, excluding the wand, which he kept in his pocket. Luckily, Dudley's clothes were so loose on him that he could have kept several books in his waistband without his relatives noticing even a bulge. After his uncle opened the attic door and went back down without a word, Harry crept into his cupboard with a lamp for some more blissful reading.
A week had passed without much incident, and Harry had spent as much time as he could reading his mother's old books. He had finished reading 'Hogwarts, a History', and had read parts of different books on topics such as Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and Defense against the Dark Arts. Life had never been better for him, even if it meant only five hours of sleep a day. He had emptied his mother's trunk with discreet visits to the attic at night. Now, all the books and papers were in a large sack which he kept with him in the cupboard. But he took special care to keep the wand with him at all times. He did not know why he was doing this, but it just gave him a sense of comfort and security to stick his hand in his pocket and feel it there.
It was the last weekend before the school he was sent to reopened, and he was not looking forward to being shunned by most students and bullied by Dudley and his little gang of mean, pig-like boys. He sighed as his aunt rapped on the door of his cupboard and ordered him to mow the lawn. He put down the DADA book he had been reading and went out to the lawn, foolishly forgetting to lock the door of his cupboard from outside.
Harry had been working for fifteen minutes with the lawnmower, when a shriek and a loud crash from with within the house caused him to stop and listen.
"Vernon! Come to the boy's cupboard, QUICKLY!" His aunt's voice sounded shriller than usual. She was almost hysterical.
Harry sprinted inside the house as fast as he could, and reached his cupboard. His blood went cold as he saw his aunt barely able to stand as her shaking hand held 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection' by Quentin Trimble. A shattered teapot lay on the floor. He cursed himself for being careless enough to leave the door unlocked; it had a nasty habit of slowly swinging open if left unlocked.
Just then Vernon thundered down the stairs, half his face covered in shaving foam and eyes looking around wildly for the cause of trouble.
"What's the matter, Petunia?"
"L-Look what the boy's been reading", she replied, thrusting the book into his hands.
Harry watched in scared fascination as his uncle's face registered confusion, then recognition, and finally anger. His face turned red, then green, and finally purple as he let out an angry bellow.
"What's the meaning of this, boy? How on earth did you find out about this abnormality?" he thundered.
Harry's suspicions that his aunt and uncle had known about magic all along were confirmed. Though he was terrified of the situation he was in, anger too rose from his chest.
"What abnormality do you mean, uncle? Do you mean the fact that my parents were a witch and a wizard? How long have you known this and kept it a secret from me, and why?"
"Insolence! I have provided you with food and shelter, boy, don't forget it. This magical nonsense was what led to your parent's downfall. They got mixed up with some of these freaks and got killed. You should be thankful that we did not allow you to become the garbage that they were."
But blood was pounding in Harry's ears. His parents had been killed! And the Dursleys had told him they had died in a car crash! He took out the wand and aimed it at his uncle. Aunt Petunia took one look and fainted dead away. However, Vernon had obviously not seen a wand before and he looked at the little stick in confusion.
"Never again insult my parents in front of me, Vernon. There will be hell to pay for."
"Why you little runt… ", Vernon left the sentence unfinished as he raised his huge fist and aimed a blow at Harry's ears. But Harry leapt back and remembered the spell he had learnt that very day.
"Petrificus Totalus", he bellowed at the top of his voice.
To his amazement and relief, a blinding white light left his wand and hit his uncle dead on in the chest. Vernon's hands snapped to his sides, his legs snapped together, and he went down and hit the floor with such a loud crash that the windows shook. Harry's mind was racing as he made a quick decision – he would leave Privet Drive forever. Anyways after all he had done, his uncle would certainly not keep him. He ran to his cupboard and gather his meager belongings and put them all in the sack containing his mother's books, as his uncle's eyes followed his actions from the floor. Harry lugged the sack over his back and took special care to stamp Vernon's hand on the way out.
"Goodbye, Vernon. The spell I put on you will come off by itself in a couple of hours. I am leaving this blasted place forever, so you don't have to worry about other people finding about the little freak living in your house."
Saying this, Harry went out of the front door and into the streets, walking aimlessly along the roads to someplace that was as far away as possible from Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
A/N - Please Read and Review. This is my first fic, my first attempt at creative writing since my essays at school, so don't be too brutal. I will try to update very soon. Next chapter Harry meets a certain someone who decides to give him help and training.