Mentality


Warning(s): Implied abuse, confusion...

Beta: CleopatraIsMyName


No. 6

Basically...


Before Harry could be whisked away to a new and enchanting place, he heard the two distinct footfalls of his aunt and miniature whale, or cousin, Dudley, signaling their arrival.

"He's not going anywhere," screeched his aunt, dressed in only a nightgown, slippers, and hair curlers. Dudley was right behind her, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"What's going on Mummy, Daddy?"

"Nothing Dudders. Go back upstairs and go to sleep," she cooed.

Uncle Vernon's face was turning different colors rapidly, causing Harry to wonder whether he was going to die from some alarming condition. He briefly fantasized about such a reality, oblivious to his surroundings.

Quite suddenly, his attention was brought back to Dudley when he said, "Mummy, why is there a big man in our house, and why is he holding Potter's hand?"

"My name is 'agrid," the bumbling man introduced, relinquishing his hold on Harry's, and redirected his beefy hand to Dudley for a quick shake.

"Who sent you here?" Uncle Vernon finally snapped. His fat arms were folded in a defensive position against his chest as he spoke.

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore," Hagrid began, only to get cut off by Aunt Petunia.

"Whaaaat?" She yelled, arms waving wildly in gesticulations that, quite honestly, made her look uneducated, "He assured me that the boy wouldn't be going anywhere, especially since his freakish father had no other living relatives."

Hagrid's brow wrinkled in confused, a hand raised to scratch his head, "Dumbledore wouldn't o' said tha'," he assured, "'arry's mum and da' paid the entire seven years o' 'ogwarts tuition."

Aunt Petunia covered her mouth with a muffled scandalized wail, "That lying old codger!"

She turned and pointed an accusing finger directly in Harry's direction, "If your parents hadn't had gotten themselves blown-up, none of this would've happened!"

"Whatdya mean by that?" Harry asked, "I thought they died in a car crash?" His young voice faltered at the cause of death, wishing they were still alive.

"'arry, yer parents didn't die like that," Hagrid looked down, a hand patting his messy, raven hair, "They were killed by a powerful dark wizard, trying to save yer life."

"You lied to me!" Harry growled in contempt, hair rising, "You told me they had died while driving drunk! That they were awful and had left me in the car, giving me my scar!"

When Harry looked up at Hagrid with weary disappointment, an expression that should be nowhere near a young child's face, Hagrid grew angry.

When Uncle Vernon appeared at the next moment with the air-rifle, the raven-haired boy backed away slowly to cower behind Hagrid, his small hands gripping the older, and much larger, man's strange clothing.

Harry abruptly let go when Hagrid made a sudden movement, and was suddenly right in front of his uncle, looking down at him with an irate expression affixed upon his normally jolly face.

Uncle Vernon made some sort of threat, poking Hagrid in the belly with the barrel of the gun. Shaking his head, Hagrid gripped the offending object, twisting the metal easily into a pretzel-like shape.

The man looked near-comical, his face ash-white, slowly bringing a curled weapon towards himself. Harry suppressed a giggle of hilarity.

Dudley chose that moment to open his huge trap with, "Who are you again?"

Turning his head to meet the frightened gaze of the youngest Dursley, he replied, "Rubeus 'agrid, Groundskeeper 'or 'ogwarts School o' Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Dudley's eyes bugged out of his head, and he turned tail and ran straight up the stairs, screaming about 'foul beasts' and 'Potter'.

Harry failed to keep his laughter contained, and burst into giggles.

"What're you laughing at, boy?" Aunt Petunia hissed, not looking intimidating in the least compared to the friendly Mister Hagrid. However, to Harry, it was never about that.

'You all are so ignorant, Dudley ran upstairs screaming and crying, and Uncle Vernon is still holding the gun!' Harry wished he could say.

Instead, he stopped laughing immediately and quietly muttered, "Nothing, Aunt Petunia..."

However, Uncle Vernon was. He couldn't seem to fathom what had just happened. He was still standing there, frozen stiff. His face was pure disbelief.

Walking briskly towards her husband, with Hagrid safely at the freak's side, Petunia placed her hands on her hips. She leaned over and snapped her fingers, effectively gaining his - albeit distracted - attention.

"Vernon," she spat, "Get hold of yourself!"

Blinking rapidly, he threw the rifle on the floor, having been on safety the entire time, and straightened his shoulders.

"As I was saying," he began, as if he hadn't been stuck in a stupor for the past minute or so, "The boy is staying. He isn't going to that bastard school for scum, nor is he leaving without our expressed permission."

Grunting in frustration, Hagrid rubbed a single hand across his face. "I don't think yer quite gettin' it.

"'arry is goin' ter 'ogwarts regardless o' what you say."

With that, Hagrid fell to one knee if front of Harry, "You ready ter go, 'arry?"

Gasping in shock, Harry realized he almost left without his belongings. The raven-haired child scrambled into his cupboard, searching for book bag the Dursleys had allowed him. Stuffing it full of his things, he found it would be about the size needed. He, especially, remembered to get the items underneath one of the floorboards: a notebook, pen, pencils, some toys, and his precious dragon doll.

After scanning for any other precious objects he may have forgotten about in his haste, he crawled out, closing the door behind him and waited for Hagrid.

Turning around, the man did a bit of a double take, "That it?"

Nodding his head rapidly, Harry whispered, "I'm not allowed to have a lot of things."

He ducked his head down, embarrassed at how he was behaving. Not only that, but Hagrid must surely pity him now.

Hagrid blinked in confusion, bewildered about why he wasn't "allowed" - despite the comments from the Dursleys aimed at the boy, they were just words, after all - and took the small child into his arms, not surprised as to how light he was. It was to be expected, after all. He was quite small for his age.

Muttering his farewell to the terrible family, Hagrid got on his motorcycle with Harry is arms, and sailed away into the sky.

The last thing Harry thought of, before he surrendered to the much needed rest, was the sharp contrast between his pale blue dragon, and the dark night sky.


Author's Note:

Um. You'll see the cake next chapte to HP wiki, the letters were designed so that they would stop coming when the magical child opened one up. Since the Petunia only saw it after Harry had gotten it, they never got the millions of letters sent to their house.