Hello :) I'm Amy, your author for this fic. I'm not sure what to say other than I hope you guys like the first chapter of Faith, and I would appreciate any feedback :) Enjoy.

Disclaimer: The fantastic world of Harry Potter sadly does not belong to me. Otherwise, Harry and Draco would've gotten together ages ago.

Faith

Scream

I'm kicking down the walls,

I've got to make them fall,

Just break through them all,

Punching, crashing I'm gunna,

Fight to find myself,

Me and no one else,

Which way I can't tell,

I'm searching, searching…

Harry loved his job at the local coffee shop. The way the rich scent of coffee hung heavily in the air, the soft, cheerful chatter and laughter that rang like bells and the smiles the customers always wore. The café was a happy place, with pale yellow walls and a soft oak floor, and it held an aura of calmness that made all the customers let go of their troubles and enjoy their time drinking coffee.

The large double glass doors blended in with the crystal windows that covered the whole front of the shop, and the only sign that there was actually a door there was the grey mat for the customers to wipe their feet. The view from the inside was beautiful. A grand oak tree stood slightly over to the right in the crook of the shop, majestically shadowing the small café with flickering shadows. Currently, beautiful cherry blossom bejewelled the long slender branches, and soft, delicate petals swirled in a beautiful dance before casing the pavements and roof in a dusting of pink. People rushed past with arms full of shopping bags, teenagers laughed as they hung out with their classmates, and little children looked around at the few shops with large, glistening eyes that held their childish curiosity.

Of course, the inside was just as beautiful as the outside. On the yellow walls hung paintings of buttery daffodils and snowy daisies, and the ceiling held many spot lights that changed into a rainbow of colours. The tables were made from the same wood as the floor, and were decorated with white napkins and a vase with a single creamy rose. In the corner sat a white toy box, full of colourful toys for the children to play with. Next to it sat dark blue bean bags and a dark wooden bookshelf holding worn paperbacks. Around the checkout stood a clear counter showing off a variety of cakes and cookies, each with different icing and toppings.

All in all, it was Harry's kind of place. Even though he was currently stuck doing the things the other staff avoided, he loved the place. He didn't care that he had to clean the toilets or take out the trash. All that mattered was that he was a part of this café, and he would do anything to stay there.

At the end of his long sifts, he drags his exhausted body back to the Dursley's and eats a pitiful meal that normally consists of the measly leftovers from his cousin Dudley. After that, he falls onto his small, hard cot and is asleep before his head hits the pillow.

The Dursley's were Harry's guardians. They "took" him in when he was one, finding him wrapped up on their doorstep one morning. They lived down a boring street in a boring house that looked exactly like the many other houses. Besides, why would boring people live somewhere exciting?

Their attitudes were anything but nice, however. Petunia, Harry's aunt, hated her sister for being different, for being book smart and pretty with long, flowing red hair and emerald green eyes. Petunia was dull and grey standing next to her. She had blonde, straw-like hair that was as stiff as wire, brown eyes and a horse-like face along with a neck twice the size of a normal person.

They hated Harry with a passion. Petunia because his eyes which he inherited from his mother reminded her of her memories that she longed to forget, and her husband hated him just because he could. Dudley, their whale of a son, followed in his father's footsteps. He loved picking on anyone who was smaller than him.

Vernon, Harry's uncle was a plump man with a fat head that held too many chins and brown hair that looked like a wig. He had a large moustache under his pig-like nose and tiny, brown eyes under large, salt and pepper eyebrows. He had almost no neck and whatever he wore, his shirt always strained over his bulk of a stomach, the buttons threatening to pop off at any second.

Dudley was a lot like his father. He was as wide as he was tall, with a mop of blonde hair and small, watery blue eyes. He had no neck as his four saggy chins hid it from view. Harry had always thought that he looked far too much like a pig, as his straining skin was always pink and his nose and ears were large and squished.

Yes, his life at the Dursley's was hell, but at least he didn't look like them. He had midnight black hair that didn't lie flat no matter how much he tried, and it curled around his face in soft tendrils. His skin was pale from lack of sunlight, and his nose was small. Perched on it was a thin frame of round wired glasses. His eyes were the bright emerald of his mother, and he also had a light scatter of freckles that you could only see if you looked close enough. He was skinny, too skinny for a boy of seventeen, and wore the cast-offs from Dudley.

So, hopefully now you will know why Harry liked working at the café. The warm, welcoming feel couldn't be more different from the Dursley's, and too him, it felt more like home than his own aunts'.

-x-

Harry was up before the sun even had the chance to rise. The only sign that it was almost dawn was the murky green haze across the horizon, and the black night had turned to a dark royal blue. He was used to it though. The Dursley's wanted him up at the crack of dawn to prepare their breakfast and fetch the morning paper like a loyal servant. He also had to clean the kitchen before they came down.

Yawning, he threw on an old Weasley jumper that his best friend's mum had made him a few years back - and yes, it still fitted him – and an old pair of jeans that was held up with a worn brown belt. It had his own made holes in, of course.

He shuffled down the stairs, expertly avoiding the creaky one that was almost half way up, and made his way into the kitchen. He did a quick tidy-up – mopped the floor, wiped down the counters, straightened the cups and plate in the cupboards and made sure all the labels on the food was facing forward.

After finishing, the sun was finally rising, and the Dursley's would be getting up soon. It was time to start breakfast. Getting out the frying pan and the bacon, he set it onto the burner and the noise of sizzling meat filled the room.

As that was cooking, he sliced and prepared the fruit for aunt Petunia and cracked a couple of eggs to add with the bacon. As it was almost done, Harry could hear Aunt Petunia's light footsteps on the stairs, followed by Uncle Vernon's heavy stomps and Dudley's shuffles.

"Boy, you'd better have breakfast on the table!" Uncle Vernon's vicious voice boomed from the hall, and Harry quickly placed the full plates on the table before going to tidy up the mess.

Aunt Petunia entered the kitchen first, sweeping her eagle eyes over the counters and the floor to look for a single speck of dust gracing her precious kitchen. Her thin lips were pursed and white, and her veiny hands smothered her skirt incessantly.

Uncle Vernon was next; his large face an ugly red and moustache quivering on his upper lip. His shirt was creased and his boring tie was wonky around his non-existent neck. Uncle Vernon's company, Grunnings, was having difficulties and everyone's pay was being cut, hence the reason for Harry working at the café, but he did have the job before the difficulties, but now all his earnings were going straight to their pockets.

Dudley strolled in next, dressed in large clothes that would fit a baby killer whale. His blonde hair was slicked back in gel, which could possibly be the worst thing to do in Dudley's situation, as it showed off more of his ugly, squished piggy face. He sneered at Harry before taking a seat next to his father, his lumps of fat spilling out in the gap between the seat and the armrest. He then dug into his healthy meal of greasy bacon and eggs.

Harry just carried on cleaning as the small family chatted over their food, Petunia going on about their neighbours' latest breakdown with her husband whom she saw by straining her neck over the garden fence and peering into their windows.

And then it was time for uncle Vernon to go to work and Dudley to college. How Dudley got into college was a mystery. He was a thick as a lamppost, but Harry guessed that his uncle somehow bribed them with money. Petunia saw them to the door, and Harry soon heard the car drive off down the street.

"Go on, get ready for work!" Aunt Petunia screeched in her horrid high voice, shooing Harry from the kitchen and up the stairs. Harry rolled his eyes but did as he was told anyway. He wasn't about to moan about going to work. It got him out of this hellhole.

Putting on his best clothes – which all weren't that great considering they were Dudley's cast-offs – he brushed his hair and cleaned his teeth and then walked the short distance to the small café.

It was a pleasant day outside. The sky was clear and a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight. The air was crisp and cold, nice and fresh and it bit Harry's exposed skin. The people he passed were cheerful with rosy cheeks and large smiles, and Harry grinned just because they were having a good morning.

The first sign of the shop was the large, gorgeous cherry blossom tree outside the small café, a pretty pale pink against the sapphire sky. Yes, Harry loved this place, mainly because he could be himself here with no one to judge him. Here, he could be Harry, just Harry, and that alone brightened up his day.

-x-

The morning went by smoothly. Harry served the daily visitors with a cheery smile and joyful 'good morning's, talking happily to the little children and playing with them when he had a little break. His usuals came by; Emma, a young woman with shoulder-length curly red hair and blue eyes, was dressed in one of her seemingly endless wardrobe of dresses. Today, she wore a pretty blue one that stopped just before the knee. Her husband chaperoned her. Will was tall and skinny, but he had broad shoulders and large arms that stopped him looking lanky. He had chocolate brown hair that went nicely with his forest green eyes, and his skin-tone was dark from many days out on the sun. he wore a simple white shirt and dark blue jeans.

"Good morning," Harry greeted with a smile. "The usuals?"

"Please, sweetie." Emma chirped as she leaned over the glass case, staring at the cakes that were under it.

Harry bustled around, collecting Emma's mug (yes, she had her own) and gathering the marshmallows before pouring her a mug of hot chocolate. Will didn't care about his cup, so Harry picked the first one he saw and poured him his coffee. Placing them on a tray, he popped a plate with two hot croissants next to them before placing it next to the till. Laura, the girl who managed the till, expertly added the items together, telling Will the price.

"How's your cousin's diet going?" Emma asked as Will handed over the money and proceeded to take the tray to the nearest table to the counter.

Harry rolled his eyes. "They gave it up after Aunt Petunia found his hoard of chocolate bars and crisps in a box under his bed." he said in disgust. "I think Dudley has gained more weight than what he had lost."

Emma shook her head sadly, cradling her large mug of hot chocolate to her chest. "I'm surprised he doesn't have more heath issues, and I still can't get over the fact that your aunt let him get that way."

"I was friends with someone like your cousin," Will spoke out. "he was sixteen, and around 18 stone. This was quite a few years ago, mind you, but I bet they can't stop a heart attack any better than they did back then. Poor boy died when he was eighteen."

Harry winced. Dudley was almost 18, and he's a lot more than 18 stone. However, Dudley wasn't about to change his life at the mere risk of a heart attack.

"How are you, Harry? College going well?" Emma asked, spooning the gooey marshmallows out of her cup before popping it into her mouth.

"I'm good. College is difficult, but it's supposed to be challenging. My art class has me buried deep in research I need to do, but it's fun."

The truth was, Harry didn't go to college. College cost money - money which the Dursley's didn't want to spend on trash like Harry. They didn't think he deserved an education, so they kept him at home to do their bidding while they enjoyed life.

Harry hated it. He felt like a bird trapped in a tiny cage, unable to spread his wings and discover the world and who he was. Sure, he had a name, but after that, he had nothing. No qualifications, no medals, no trophies… nothing that showed who he was.

He wanted to go out and travel, see the world and do something with his life. He wasn't about to let the Dursley's control the way he lived!

Emma smiled at him. "Sometime, Harry sweetie, could you bring some of your work to show me? I'd love to see some!"

Harry mentally sighed but smiled and nodded. "Sure."

Emma's eyes sparkled happy as she finished off her hot chocolate and her croissant, standing up next to Will.

"We must be off," she said to Harry as she picked up her flowery handbag. "it was lovely seeing you. Bye!"

Harry waved goodbye to the couple, leaning against the counter as he let the smile fall from his face.

He watched the families interact, mothers smiling down at the little children, cooing at the babies and Harry himself could feel the love in the air. Harry had never experienced love like what he was seeing now. Not off the Dursley's, anyway. He was sure his parents did before they died.

He wanted to be like those kids. Growing up with people who loved them for them, and not being shouted at, punched at, ignored like he was a piece of crap.

If the Dursley's tried to control his life, he swore to himself that he wouldn't go down without screaming.

Please review and tell me what you think?