Chapter Two: Cole's Home for Children

It was a few days after Harry arrived at the residential care home that he learned that the Dursleys were gone forever. He was happy that he would never have to see them again. At the care home, Harry stood out. The other boys, like Dudley, had constantly bullied him. The girls whispered behind his back. He never spoke a word.

They stared at him strangely when he didn't eat, and Harry soon learned to eat at least a small portion of the provided food. Ms. Fodder wasn't very happy that he hadn't eaten when he first came.

In his room, Harry secretly continued to practice magic. His blue book had come in handy. Harry could do many things even better now that he read the book. It was exhilarating.

A month after Harry's arrival at Cole's Home for Children, that's when the others started really trying to get to him. Much like Dudley, Michael was now his bully. Michael and his group relentlessly went after Harry for his small size, however, one by one, all of them except Michael backed down.

Harry was going to hide his book back under his mattress when he dropped the book. A photo fell out. Harry picked it up and examined it. It was a picture of a little girl and there was a little boy. Harry noticed the writing on the back of the photo.

Severus and Lily, 1968

Harry set the picture down. Then, he flipped to a certain page of the book. This handwriting was exactly the same as the one in his book. With a heavy heart, Harry set the book down on the bedside table and looked for a place to stash this photo. One of these two must be someone he should know. This book was from Privet Drive, which meant Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon knew them.

Harry put the photo under the floorboard where he stashed his smaller things. Afterward, he left for dinner, forgetting that he left his copy of Magic for the Young and How to control it on his bedside table.

When Harry returned, there was a smug Michael and his group of friends by his room. "Potter!" Michael called out. "Still reading fairy tales?" Harry's eyes widened as Michael held out his prized book. "You know, I couldn't believe my luck when I saw it just sitting there on your desk." The others snickered. "Well, this book is boring anyways. It makes no sense, say 'bye bye' to your book!"

Harry stiffened, his posture becoming tense, eyes narrowing. "Give me my book," he said through gritted teeth. Michael smirked.

"No." With that, Michael started to tear up the book. Pages fluttered. Harry let out a roar of anger, and suddenly, a cry of pain rang out in the hall. Followed by it were screams. The screams of the other children who had seen what had happened. Red exploded everywhere in Harry's vision before his world had darkened.

The other children were terrified of Harry after the incident. Michael's room was now empty, waiting for another to fill in the empty space. It was now quiet in the care home, filled with whispers and stares directed towards Harry. Even the supervisors stayed away, all whispering behind his back.

Harry remained unchanged, yet, he had become colder, emotionless. There was never another outburst from Harry. His voice flat, never with emotion, Harry had become cold and calculating. His once emerald-green eyes now seemed like an Avada Kedavra green having lost the shine in them. His once messy jet-black hair had calmed down, giving him the feel of a strict businessman.

Harry didn't dress his age either. Whenever the supervisor asked what kind of clothes Harry preferred, Harry would always reply with whatever they deemed necessary. They always ended up buying formal clothes for him. It seemed that Harry had also preferred it too.

~0~

It was about two weeks before Harry's birthday when he received his first letter. He had been outside chatting with the small snakes when an owl had swooped down and dropped off a letter addressed to him. Harry, having read Hogwarts, A History at the Dursleys understood this was an invitation to Hogwarts.

Mr. H. Potter

Room 166

6000 Threadneedle Street (not an actual address)

London

Greater London

Harry took the letter, bidding the snakes a farewell, and went to open it in private.