Chapter 1

Dudley and his gang kept going "Harry hunting" and with each day, Harry was getting more and more bruises. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't care. Even if he went to tell them, he'd get even more beatings by Uncle Vernon.

"Freak," the lips parted and spit flew.

Harry flinched away from the droplets of saliva, trying not to let the bigger boy bother him. His shoulders were drawn up defensively and his eyes were directed toward the swings. A soft growl escaped his lips and his fingers curled inward into fists.

"You're a freak, a freak, freak, freak!" The boy laughed, pushing Harry.

The dark-haired boy stumbled, trying to gather his footing. The toe of his sneakers got caught on a tree root and he went down hard, scraping his palms and knees.

The children laughed.

Harry laid there staring at the blood slowly dripping down his palms, onto his wrists. Blood had such a nice red colour didn't it? Tears did not fall even when Dudley and his gang kicked him hard in the ribs before he turned and left.

Tears had stopped long ago.

Instead, brilliant emerald eyes turned from the blood to Dudley's back. The stare was unnerving, as if his eyes were bearing holes into his back. His lips thinned and fury started building in his chest. He struggled to sit up and winced from the pain. No, he could not show weakness. The rest of Dudley's gang was watching him from afar. More kids were watching him from the playground. No one ever approached him besides Dudley and his gang. They were all afraid. Afraid of him or afraid of getting targeted by Dudley and his gang, those bullies.

Still, Harry despised them. They were all weak. Too afraid, too stupid, didn't ever dare to stand up for themselves or for what they thought was right.

He glowered, holding his still throbbing midriff and stalking back home, that is, if he could even call that inhabitable hole home. He lived in a cupboard! Not even a proper room. He knew that if he went to an orphanage, he would have gotten to at least share a room. But where was the fun in letting the Dursleys get the satisfaction from him leaving?

The Dursleys, neighbors or even teachers never once asked him if he was alright. Even Aunt Petunia who he knew was related through his mother's side. Once, a teacher got involved in matters. In the end, the Dursleys told her a cock and bull story about how Harry was a troubled child and loved telling lies. From then on, no one cared ever got involved. The neighbors knew him as the troublesome child, one who always got into trouble. Even if they saw Dudley starting a fight, they never got involved, they did not help matters. This was why Harry hated authority figures. If you had the power yet never helped people, why do you have this power then?

Harry glowered and went into the house, passed Aunt Petunia, hurrying to his cupboard.

He was better than them, he knew. Nursing his scraped palms best as he could, Harry entered his cupboard and collapsed on the bed. The thin mattress groaned as it collided with the rusty springs. Paying no heed to the blood on his hands, Harry picked up the side of the mattress and took out a thick envelope of parchment hidden within his shirt.

Staring at the letter cradled to his chest, he allowed a small smile to cross his lips.

He had gotten his Hogwarts letter today.

At first, he thought it was a joke. However, looking at the things he could do, he knew he was special.

Lying back onto the bed, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift, to wonder what the world of witchcraft and wizardry was like. Blood stained the parchment, but he didn't notice nor care. He was imagining a world where he was like all the others, a world where children wouldn't tease him because he was different. And most importantly, he was starved for all the knowledge he could attain in this new world. Even at his young age, Harry knew the importance of intelligence.

But most of all, Harry was thrilled at the chance to prove himself to everyone. He wanted to make a name for himself in the wizarding world. He didn't want to be just an orphan, or the small boy everyone could pick on, no—he wanted to use his special powers to his own advantage.

Ever since Harry was young, he noticed he was never like Dudley or the other children. He could in some sense, manipulate things to his own liking. If he concentrated really really hard, he could move things or unlock the lock on his cupboard. There were also other times when accidents happened. Accidents which Harry found to be interesting.

There was a time where Harry was feeling really angry at Dudley for chasing him around and Harry jumped from behind the bins where he was hiding onto the roof. Just remembering it made Harry's fingers tremble in excitement.

Finally, he would be going into a world where he would not be judged.