Harry had known he was special since he turned his year 3 teacher's hair blue. Soon after this incident, he had found a book in the school library titled 'Magic and Mages'.
Harry decided the description given of what magical powers could do seemed fitting. He (as only a seven-year old can) figured really the only thing to do with this new-found power was use it. So he did.
Every day, when he got home from school, he would go into his cupboard. There, he would practise on one of his cousin, Dudley's, discarded green soldiers, trying to turn it blue. After a couple of months with no results, he had thrown it against the wall in frustration.
When it hit the ground, it was blue.
Things changed when Harry turned eight.
His Uncle, Vernon, returned home from work looking murderous. Harry knew as soon as he saw his Uncle's face, that something was wrong, and he would get the blame.
He was right, of course.
At dinner, Vernon exploded.
"I MISSED OUT ON MY PROMOTION! 10 RUDDY YEARS OF WORKING THERE, TO HAVE IT WHISKED AWAY BY SOME NEW TRASH THAT'S BEEN THERE TWO WEEKS!"
His beady eyes swivelled to face Harry, and he leapt from his seat (a remarkable feat for someone of such a vast size, Harry thought later) waggling his fat finger in Harry's face.
"YOU! YOU DID SOMETHING FREAKISH! AFTER WE TOOK YOU IN, FED YOU, THIS IS THE GRATITUDE YOU SHOW ME?! WELL YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT NOW, BOY!"
Drawing back his meaty fist, Vernon punched Harry in the nose.
Crack.
Silence filled the room for a moment. No one was quite sure what had happened, until Harry cried out in pain, holding a hand over his nose to staunch the blood flowing from it.
We shan't mention what else happened that evening, but four hours later found Harry waking up in his cupboard, dried blood on his face and various other places, a strong hatred of his relatives, and a desperate desire to stay in the shadows.
Aged 9, Harry started studying.
It was surprisingly easy to get into the library. He just waited for a mother and her child to enter the building, and made conversation with the girl as they entered so people would think they were one group. Once inside, he ditched them immediately and went straight for the non-fiction section.
Harry soon had a craving for knowledge, and set to satisfying that craving by finishing all the non-fiction books by the time he turned ten. By this point, he was studying four years above his year level, and just acting dumb to avoid unnecessary beatings. After all, he had nothing better to do with his time.
He had tried calling child services and the Police on the Dursleys 7 seperate times now, but after every investigation ended up with everyone forgetting it every happened the next day, Harry had given up. He had even tried to run away once, but only made it to London before he woke up back in the cupboard. He knew something else must have happened and decided someone else must have magic powers, and really want to keep him with his relatives.
After reading a fantasy novel with an assassin in it, Harry became intrigued by how they had known the pressure points to hit to knock someone out, and how they silently killed their targets. He began studying human anatomy and how to fight with a blade.
At this point, Harry was 11. Two solid years of studying and practising blade fighting led up to now. Little did he know of the letter that would greet him the next morning.
Ok everyone! Here is chapter 1! I haven't got any other chapters written yet, so I don't know when I'll update next.
Catch ya later! Bubbles xxx