Story Warnings: (the usual) child abuse and child neglect 'snapshots' of Harry, general violence (mild), seeming bashing of some people and ideas (meaning not truly so), and mention of religious beliefs and activities (in case people are offended by them)
Pairings: nothing canon in this story
Disclaimers:
I do not own Harry Potter Series, the Inheritance Cycle Series, the Five Famous books, or any other recognisable fandoms that might appear here. All recognisable plots and characters belong to the respective stories, but my original characters and plot are of course my own and I will report anyone who steal them from me.
There will be references of the Royal Family of Great Britain or even interactions with them in this story. I mean no slander against them. I am just expressing my admiration and fondness of them through this piece of work, and all I write here are just assumptions, therefore fictitious.
Story Notes:
I hate disclaimers (they are ridiculous when applied to a site which clearly states "fan fiction" in its name, to me), so I will only mention them once, that is, in this page. I apologise to the residents of Surrey who might read this for the events I create in there without any knowledge of the county itself, and the matters I relate to it also. Those are… unavoidable. I have tried my best to know things about the administrative hierarchy in Great Britain and all, but am still confused about some things.
Hopefully you will enjoy reading this fiction. I have never written a full story in Harry's point of view before this, so I am anxious of what might come out of this. Your reviews would be a great support to me. I apologise in advance to the mistakes I might have along the story, especially about homophonic words; they had a good chance of escaping my ears (yes, I am a screen reader user). To further complicate the situation, I am not a native speaker of English too…
I have many ongoing stories which I must also update, and my easy distraction to battle, so the updating rate for this one might be a little slow. :sheepish: I shall do my best to serve you the best I can come up with, though.
Enjoy!
- Rey
Prologue
Privet Drive Number 4, Little Whinging, Surrey, England. July 30, 1988, 09:00 AM
An eight-year-old boy crept into the living room and hid behind a couch directly facing the television set. He was extremely annoyed when he realised that the television remote lay on the tea ttable one meter before him. It was too late already to creep out from his hiding place, though, because at that time a woman with long neck and long face entered with a cup of tea, ready for a break after gardening all morning. Grumbling about ungrateful brat and suitable punishments for a freaky thing, she seated herself on the sofa right before the hiding boy, forcing said boy to move as quietly as possible to the side to gain a better view of the television screen.
To the boy's silent glee, the woman changed the channel from cartoon to news. He was not particularly fond of news programmes, yet he felt that somehow today's news would bring about a big shift in his life. He had since long forgone hopes of a better life outside the house or a bit of love from the family that resided in it, but his stubborn mind never stopped hoping for any other thing that could even remotely improve his life; the absence of the many cats owned by a certain lady included.
The boy schooled his breathing in order not to be caught by the woman. He prayed she would stop grumbling soon so that he could watch the afternoon news that had just begun. `When can she be grateful of everything?` he snickered glumly to himself while playing with the folded left sleeve of his oversized T-shirt – which made him look even smaller and younger.
The first session of the afternoon news, the domestic news, was filled with an official visit of the royal governer of Surrey to a fair held in the town square of Little Whinging. A frown creased his brow. He did not like such boring information.
Well, apparently the pair of girls in the screen thought so, as they did not quite care about masking their uninterested expressions. It seemed that said lord brought his family with him to attend the ceremony of the fair's opening without having the children's consent beforehand.
Mmm. I'm glad I'm out of the option for that,` the boy smirked sympathetically to the girls – who cast a veiled glare to the camera. The pair seemed to be of his age if not a little older, and, judged from their nervous bearings, they had never attended any other official events with their father.
They seem lovely, unlike the girls at school, the boy mused when the focus returned to the lord. He ignored the speeches of both said lord and the news reader, yawning silently while thinking of the girls the camera man had managed to spy. He wished they could be his friends, not because of their father but because… well, he had never had any friend. If only…
He completely zoned out afterwards, only returning to awareness when the news had ended. Stifling a stream of curses and refraining from punching the back of the sofa out of irritation, he kept his mind, eyes and ears alert of the next programme on the television.
Unfortunately, now it was a gossip programme…
He had to stick his hands together behind his back and meticulously evened out his breathing; a temper tantrum, albeit small and short, would turn into a disastrous result in his case. A gossip programme would not do for him, although the woman sitting on the sofa before him nearly bounced on it with joy like a girl. `Great. Half an hour crouching here and getting a cramp only got me so far.`
Grudgingly, he relaxed, leaning to the cool wall behind him, careful so as not to make any rustling sound. Now that he sat more conveniently, he could not look over the top of the sofa again, yet it was the least of his problems as he did not intend to watch the gossips about famous people – the woman's favourite.
It was, until the flirting tone of the presenter announced, "Now we come to the news and information our secret crew have managed to gather about the unknown daughters of Lord and Lady Kensington, little Ladies Ardila and Ariana." The boy was frozen in place, not only because of the startling piece of information but also because he had just inhaled a sharp breath. Cursing silently, he brought himself down sidewise to the floor. At least, the woman would suspect him sleeping, if not at all visible. The sound coming out of the television set was muffled from his current position, yet he had to be satisfied with it.
Lying on his right arm in a crammed, damp and dusty place was not a pleasant experience. What he heard from the television quenched the feeling, however. He had things to muse about now, in case his aunt would lock him back in his cupboard for skipping the gardening chore today. His senses were pulled away from the uncomfortable position he was in.
Then, when the woman had left to the kitchen to make tea, he darted out of his hiding place and crossed the room in long, silent strides. In a short moment, he had already escaped the house completely. If he would end up caged in his cupboard tonight, then it was better for him to use what freedom he had in the best way he could before that time.
