Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

Warning: Some of the things in here are from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. There aren't any spoilers for the plot line of the film, however, the idea of this came to me after seeing the film.

Tally Marks

Harry smiled to himself as he drew another tally mark on the cupboard door. Today had marked the 54th day since anything evil had happened. Harry brought a hand up to his hair as he remembered the last time. He shook off the memory and dropped the pencil on the ground. Laying down on his mattress, he surrendered himself to his dreams.

"Up! Up! Breakfast time!" The pounding ceased, and Harry could hear footsteps walking towards the kitchen. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and leapt to his feet.

As Harry padded into the kitchen, Vernon looked up from his morning newspaper. "Anything freakish happen yesterday?"

"No, Uncle Vernon." Harry looked up at Petunia and accepted his plate of fried eggs and bacon. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." Petunia nodded and directed her attention towards the stairs, where she could Dudley bounding down.

"What's for breakfast Mummy?" He asked when he appeared in the entrance.

"Good morning, Dudley. Did you sleep well?" Petunia cooed over him as she handed him a plate and directed him towards the table. She looked over at Harry, as if to say, "Well, are you going to sit down or not?" He hastily sat down and scarfed down his breakfast.

"I'm done, Aunt Petunia. Can I go to the library?"

"May, Harry. Not can."

"May I go to the library, Aunt Petunia?" Harry didn't wait for an answer, and instead jumped off his chair and headed towards the door.

"Remember, no books-"

"About magic! I've got it, Uncle Vernon!"

Looking up at the sky, Harry didn't notice the person walking up to him until it was too late.

"Watch it, kid," the giant – big person, Harry corrected himself. Magic was evil and shouldn't be used in everyday context – growled.

Harry scrambled to his feet with apologies spilling off his tongue. "I'm sorry – I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm really sorry-"

The big person cut in, cracking his knuckles. "Obviously. Maybe you should be taught a lesson, huh, squirt?"

Harry paled and shook his head. "No, no, I don't thing you need to do that!" But the big person didn't listen and lifted a fist. Harry flinched, preparing himself for the pain that was just about to come, but then it didn't come. Opening his eyes, he saw the big person sprawled on the ground ten feet away from him. Paling even more, Harry spun on his heels and ran towards Number 4 Privet Drive.

The slam of the door startled Petunia into dropping her cup of tea. "Harry! You're eight now, I shouldn't have to tell you not to slam doors anymore. Besides, I thought you were at the library." A sob answered her. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia! I didn't mean to, I really didn't! I'm sorry!"

Petunia looked at her nephew with concern. "Slamming a door shouldn't cause you to cry, Harry. What do you need to apologize about?"

Harry looked up at Petunia. "I'm evil, Aunt Petunia. I did an evil thing! I'm sorry! But it just came out, and I couldn't stop it and then he was on the ground-"

Petunia startled, alarmed. "You mean you did it to another human? Harry, you need to control this! You need to learn to suppress this...this evil. What if you hurt someone, and all you could possibly say was 'I didn't mean to'? You need to bury this magic deep down, so it never comes out again. Do you understand me?"

Harry looked down at his feet. "Yes, Aunt Petunia. I'm sorry."

Petunia took his chin in her hand and wiped away a stray tear. "I'm doing this for your safety, Harry. Trust me, you don't want to be evil. And I know you have the ability to be good, you just need to destroy all the magic traces in you."

Harry nodded and walked away, with Petunia watching him until he closed the door to his cupboard. Satisfied, she nodded and bent down to pick up the broken pieces of her cup.

Harry picked up the pencil and scribbled out the 54 tally marks. He promised himself that tomorrow he would be able to draw another tally on the door, starting a new series. And this one would never be scribbled out.