Haha, I noticed that I had never put a disclaimer up for this story! Well, obviously I don't own the lovely Harry Potter series or any of its characters. Madison Ackhardt, her family and Harry's teachers are products of my own imagination. I do not own any of the music Madison, Harry or Draco play. There you go!!
The only way Harry could escape from his cruel "family" when he was a child was music but even that was taken away from him.
Music Sets Me Free
Chapter Ten
Draco watched as the car drove away and stared down the street even after the car disappeared from view. Other people were brushing past him but his thoughts were buzzing so much that he couldn't think.
'What the hell was up with Potter? He sad magic isn't real? I don't know what is wrong with him…'
He turned around and walked back to the building.
"So Mother, guess who I met today?" Draco said with a smirk.
Narcissa gave her son a glance as they left the building and walked down a few blocks to a concealed wizarding building so they could use the floo to return to their manor. "Who?"
"Harry Potter and apparently he thinks that magic doesn't exist. He was pretty adamant about it and had some sort of panic attack and ran away from me."
She gave him a sharp glance. "How could I have not seen him? Was he one of the performers this afternoon?"
Draco nodded, "Yes, he played piano with his friend Madison Ackhardt. He accompanied her with her piece. I listened to them while they played and he was asked to play a song after Ackhardt's piece was finished. He is quite talented actually, I was impressed. He could probably trump my accompanist…"
Narcissa half-listened to what her son was saying as she thought of what her husband would say about the fact that Harry Potter was here, out in the open. She had seen no wizards that would have gone to protect him had someone wanted to harm the boy.
"Doesn't the boy live with some Muggles? Did you see anyone here for him?"
Draco shrugged in a very un-Malfoyish manner. "No I didn't but I wasn't really looking that close either..."
Narcissa nodded slightly and reached out and pressed her hand against her son's back, moving him along through crowds of people.
"We can't do anything about it now. We need to get back to our manor. You shouldn't concern yourself about him."
"But, Mother it was Harry Potter!" Draco said with a petulant whine.
Narcissa just sighed and continued to walk with her son. She would tell Lucius about what she had seen later.
The ride to the restaurant was a bit strained. Harry just leaned his head against the window and watched the scenery go by not saying a word. Madison kept trying to engage him in some form of conversation but he just mumbled or ignored what she said.
Harry couldn't get the words thoughts buzzing through his head quiet. Draco saying that he was a wizard and claiming magic existed was so odd he didn't know what to think. Of course there was no way what the blond was saying could be real his relatives made sure he knew that.
'That would explain some things,' the traitorous part of his mind murmured. Harry winced and Madison gave him a look. 'Remember when you somehow got to the roof last school year and your hair grew back the next morning after your aunt cut it?'
Harry shook his head. 'That's impossible; there is no such thing as magic. Vernon and Petunia tell me that all of the time almost to the point of being obsessive—'
'That's the point!' that voice intoned. 'To the point of being obsessive…'
Harry stayed lost in thought during the rest of the car ride and through dinner. Madison's family tried to engage him in conversation but he didn't respond with more than nods or a sentence or too. He barely ate even though he tried to tell himself to as it could be one of his last good meals in awhile…
Madison reached up and knocked on the door to Harry's relative's home. She stepped back and looked at Harry. He had an anxious look on his face as if he might be sick. She grabbed onto his hand and gave it a squeeze.
The door opened and Petunia stared down at the two children, raising an eyebrow at their clasped hands. She gave Harry a disgusted look as he stood with Madison.
"Well then, get in boy! You've had your fun today; now get inside before you let in all the insects and things!"
Harry gave Madison one last smile and thanked her family before he was swept into the house. Madison tried to call out to him but the door was slammed promptly in her face. (1)
Madison stood at the door and turned around, walking slowly towards her parents.
"I hope he isn't treated horribly by them, Daddy…"
Cameron pulled his daughter into a hug. "I hope so as well.
Nothing exciting happened in the next few days. Harry kept working in the hot garden and avoiding Piers and Dudley, not being fed as many meals he needed and hoping he would get his scholarship letter soon.
Harry couldn't help but be wary of how his uncle would react if Harry I did get the money. Madison had speculated that his family would take the money and use it for something other than what it was meant to be used for. The scholarship could be used for music related purposes only but Vernon would try to find a loophole.
Harry paused in sweeping the floor and shook his head to clear it from his thoughts. He knelt and grabbed the smaller broom to sweep the dirt into the dustpan, wincing as he saw the muddy shoeprints Dudley had made earlier that Petunia had screeched at him to clean up. He grabbed the bucket and poured some cleaning fluid and water into it.
Petunia walked into the house and frowned at Harry as he cleaned up the floor. He was scrubbing it diligently and cleaning up the mud Dudley had tracked through the house. She set the large pile of mail down on the counter and glanced back at the door as her husband and child came in through the door.
Vernon and Dudley came in through the door carrying the rest of the groceries and watched as Petunia filed through the mail. She pulled out a letter that had Harry's name on it.
"Vernon, something has come for Harry; I think it's from that music society he went to a few weeks ago…"
Vernon went to his wife and plucked the letter from her bony hands. Harry had poked his head into the room and bravely ventured in to see what the paper said. He hoped that it was good news. Dudley gave him a sneer and looked up at his father, hoping that the letter contained bad news that meant something bad happening to his cousin.
"Well, boy it looks like you did something good for once. You won a scholarship at that music shindig you had a few weeks ago."
Harry's eyes lit up and in his happiness, he foolishly reached out for the envelope. A swift slap to the back of his head startled him. He let out a whimper of pain and Dudley laughed at him.
Vernon sneered at the boy and ripped the envelope open. He pulled out the letter and then scoured the rest of the package for a check of some kind. He saw nothing other than the letter and frowned angrily. He looked at the letter again and began to read it aloud.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Congratulations! You are one of the talented musicians to receive a Brocklehurst-Doubleday Music Scholarship! You were one of the many students entered under the "Keyboard/Performance" category.
As requested you reward money was sent to another account to be saved for your schooling. Enclosed is a check stub with the amount rewarded.
There shall be a concert for the students who received a scholarship and it will be on August 28th, one week before school. The rehearsal dates will be August 15th and August 26th and 27th. The times will come in the mail for each rehearsal and the actual performance. All winners may pick a new piece to play or play what they did for the scholarship.
We offer congratulations to you again and hope that you have many more years with our music program.
Thank you,
Cecilia York-Doubleday and Joseph Brocklehurst
Vernon whipped around and grabbed Harry by the collar of his over sized t-shirt. The small boy sputtered in fear and in response to having a large part of his air cut off.
"What you do you mean the money was sent to another account!? You trying to keep money from us boy? Money I deserve for taking care of your sorry arse for all these years!?"
Harry struggled to breathe as the tight grip his uncle had was hurting his throat. "I'm sorry Uncle Vernon! Madison mentioned something to me about arranging the money to be put in a different account for me to go to the same school as her in a year! It's not my fault!"
"Like hell it is!" the purple-faced man roared. "Why would you let them take MY money? They have enough as it is! I may work for that little spoiled brat's grandfather but that is no excuse for them to take the money Petunia and I deserve for taking care of you! If you got to go that fancy school that you like then that would cost us ever more money!"
He let go of Harry's abused garment and he fell to the floor in a heap. He winced and looked down at the floor as his uncle continued to shout above his head.
"You don't deserve to go to a special school while my own son has to go to a regular one. You're just trying to show off something you should have never learned in the first place!"
Harry's eyes filled with tears and he swallowed thickly to keep them at bay. He began to shake and everything his uncle said from that point on flew over his head. It was as if the ocean was rushing through his ears and he began to hyperventilate slightly.
"…your parents were worthless and you don't have a right to try to be anything more than they can be. The whole lot of you were worthless freaks and you're the worst of all!"
That was the final straw. Harry scrambled to his feet and made a wild dash for the front door, ignoring the angry cries from his uncle and laughter of Dudley. He got outside and then moved to slam the door but his uncle grabbed the doorknob and tried to yank it open.
'NO!' Harry thought fiercely and he felt a strange jolt shoot down his arm and to his hand. Vernon let out a horrible yell of pain and pulled his hand back. Harry could see even through the window that Vernon had blisters on his hand as if he had been burned.
The two stared at each other until Harry found control of his legs and began to run towards the driveway. His uncles enraged bellowing followed him down the street. He was blind to the people pulling their blinds back to see what all of the commotion was.
Harry kept running and running, ignoring the combined heat from his flight and the hot humid summer day. He paid no attention to the rumble of thunder in the sky or the rain beginning to fall. The cool liquid splashed against his heated flesh and ran into his eyes. He wiped it away but kept running until he came in sight of the park. Others were trying to find shelter from the rain and ran in different directions but he didn't stop until he crashed into a bench that was resting under a tree. He clambered onto it and pulled his knees to his chest and began to sob. The thunder rumbled above him but he didn't care.
Harry sat on the park bench and stared unseeing into the sunset. The people who had been there before the storm had long since left and he was one of the only few people there. His clothes were still wet and he felt miserable. His throat was beginning to feel slightly sore and his nose was a bit runny.
He scrubbed dried tear tracks away from his face and pulled his knees closer to his chest and put his aching head into his arms. He began to cry again and shook with silent sobs and he wished that he could just disappear.
Harry shivered as the evening cooled down further. His torn t-shirt and frayed shorts we're going to protect him from the cool air and it looked like some more rain clouds were moving back in.
'I don't want to go back there. Uncle Vernon will kill me because he thinks I'm hiding the money from him, but I'm not! Madison's family is holding it for me for the very purpose of keeping it from Vernon!'
Harry curled himself into a smaller ball and snuffled as he tried to hold back more tears. As he sat there a soft 'meow' rose to his ears. He looked down and saw a tabby cat sitting in front of him. As he gazed upon the creature, Harry couldn't help but think that its eyes held a very intelligent air about them. Somehow the cat didn't seem normal.
"I'm sorry did I disturb you?" Harry murmured as he uncurled from his ball and reached out for the animal. The cat stretched towards his hand and he petted it gently, smiling as contented purrs rose to his ears.
"You're a nice kitty," he whispered as she cat rubbed its back along his hand. He laughed when his visitor leapt onto the bench and pressed a paw against his leg. Harry shivered slightly as he looked into the cat's eyes. They were piercing and it was making him feel as if someone could see straight through him.
He sat that way, alternating between petting the cat and shivering in the cool evening air until and hand placed itself on his shoulder.
"Harry!?"
Harry jumped and looked up into the confused blue eyes of Mrs. Hendrixson. Her faded golden hair wasn't pulled back in its normal chignon but was hanging down her back. She reached to take Harry's chin in her hand and frowned at the clammy feel of his skin.
"Why are you sitting here all alone?" She pulled back and took in his rumpled appearance and her frown grew deeper. The boy's clothes were wet and in a disarray and he had signs of dried tear tracks on his face.
Mrs. Hendrixson pulled off her light jacket and put it over the boy's shoulders and coaxed him away from the bench. Harry turned around to pet the cat one last time but found that it had disappeared from sight.
'That's so odd,' he thought as he teacher fussed about him in an attempt to dry him off and warm him up at the same time.
"I'm taking you home with me. I think your relatives had something to do with this am I right?" Harry nodded slowly and stared ahead unseeing as his piano teacher led them to her car. "You need a bath, change of clothes and some food."
Mrs. Hendrixson didn't like the way her young student was acting with his vacant stare and skittish movements. He climbed into the back seat and pulled on his seat belt without a sound and turned his face to look out the window.
Finally the car arrived at Mrs. Hendrixson home, a two story cottage with lovely gardens in the front. She pulled in next to another car and stopped. She got out of the car and moved to Harry's door and gently pulled him from the car and put an air around him
"Come along, Harry. I'll run you a bath and pull out one of my grandson's old outfits for you to wear."
She gently took Harry's hand in her own and pulled him to the bathroom. She gently pushed him towards the tub and handed him a warm towel.
"I'll check on you in about fifteen minutes, dear. Just relax and I'll make you something to eat…"
Harry gave her a weak smile and then Mrs. Hendrixson moved out of the bathroom. She shut the door and then rested her back against it and put her head into her hands.
'I know that his foul relatives had something to do with this. I have to let someone know about this.'
She walked towards the stairs and went down then slowly. She picked up a picture of her grandchildren and smiled sadly. She could never imagine what Harry went through and could never imagine doing that to his own children or grandchildren. She and her husband had provided everything they could for their children and their supported and given them all of the love that children needed to thrive and be happy.
Mrs. Hendrixson moved into the kitchen and proceeded to make some homemade chicken soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. She chopped the chicken and put it into the crock pot and chopped up the carrots and other vegetables and put them in. As she worked she heard the water being drained from the tub and Harry's soft footsteps above.
Harry toweled his hair dry and then put on the dry clothes his teacher had left him. They were a little bit too large for him but they were not worn and dirty or filled with holes. Nothing could be worse than the terrible hand me downs from his cousin. He could smell something cooking and his empty stomach made itself known.
Harry made his way down the steps and watched Mrs. Hendrixson check the soup again and stir it.
"Harry, could you pull some cheese out of the fridge please?"
Harry complied silently, the odd fog still around him as he went to the fridge and got out the necessary food. He put it on the counter and then backed away.
"Harry, could you please tell me why I found you out on the bench, soaking wet and by yourself? Were your relatives cruel to you?"
"My uncle was not very happy that I told my friend to set aside the money I got from my music scholarship in an account just for me. He was going to use the money for himself."
"Why would he do something like that? That money is meant for you to use for schooling, or at least growing musically." The older woman reached out and gently rubbed his back. She frowned when the small boy flinched before relaxing under the warm hand.
"I'm very, very proud of you for winning the scholarship! I heard that you didn't even apply for the competition but they made an exception for you. Well done. I'm very excited that you've come this far with your music."
Harry's face lit up with a smile. "Thanks," he offered with a shy smile.
Mrs. Hendrixson moved to the Crockpot and stirred the soup. "It should be finished within the hour, dear. Now let's see where you can sleep tonight."
"Oh no, I can't stay here! My uncle will be even angrier when I go back!" Harry cried.
"Harry, there is no way that I'm going to let you go back to that house tonight. Your uncle is an abusive, destructive person and while he is angry now at least tonight he might have some time to cool down with you not being there.
"I know that your family hasn't been treating you the way you should be treated. You come to school disheveled and sometimes with injuries. You're quite skittish and you don't seem to have any friends. I heard that your cousin Dudley scares away children who might try to be friends with you, is that true?"
Ashamed emerald eyes met her gaze and her frown deepened.
"No child deserves to be treated like that, no matter what they do. You're one of the sweetest children I have ever known and any person would be lucky to have you as a child. You're relatives are some of the most selfish people I have ever known and I'm not the only one to say so. Your teachers have talked about how vile they are and cruel."
Mrs. Hendrixson broke off and watched Harry. He had a pained look on his face and seemed ready to start crying again. She bent down and hugged him gently and sighed when he stiffened before relaxing into her embrace. She rubbed calming circles in his tense back and he sighed and wrapped cautious arms around her in response.
The two of them stayed in that comforting position for a few moments until the lid on the Crockpot began to rattle. The kind piano teacher moved away from her student and moved to the stove and stirred the wonderful smelling soup.
"I believe it's nearly done. Would you like some grilled cheese as well, Harry?"
Harry's empty stomach made itself known and he smiled and nodded sheepishly. Mrs. Hendrixson's kind eyes smiled at him and she moved the cheese and bread closer to her and then began to put the sandwiches together.
"It will take five minutes or so. You make take a look around the house if you'd like. The music studio is on the other end on the house, but I'll show you that later."
Harry's eyes lit up at the sound of that. 'A music studio?' he mused to himself. He liked the piano room at Madison's home, with the huge windows and light cream walls and soft carpet. The room had many books and the piano was one of the best he had ever played.
He slowly wandered into the front sitting room and looked around at the pictures sitting on the tables. Mrs. Hendrixson stood next to a kindly looking middle aged man. He had his arm around her and they were both smiling in the picture. 'This must be her husband,' Harry thought silently.
The room was filled with pictures all around him with Mrs. Hendrixson's family. They looked loving and happy like a family should. He saw pictures of what looked to be her sisters and brother and mother and father. Over the fireplace there was a large picture of her and her husband in a lovely wedding picture. Their faces glowed as they looked at each other. Next to those pictures were pictures of her children when they were babies.
Harry's eyes began to tear up and he put his hand to his face to keep the gasping sobs at bay. His vision blurred and he swayed slightly on his feet.
'Why, why, WHY!?' Harry raged in his head. 'What did I do to deserve having such terrible relatives? Why do they hate me so much? Why did my parents have to leave me!?'
"Harry, dear, the soup is ready. Would you like cheddar cheese or pro—"
She trailed off as she saw Harry's trembling body and his stifled sobs. She rushed over and knelt in from of him and gently pulled his hands away from his face. She brushed his messy black hair from his eyes and gently brushed the tears away from his face.
"Harry? Harry! What's wrong!?"
The frail boy kept crying and wrapped his arms around his piano teacher and sobbed.
"I don't understand! Why can't my relatives love me? I always tried to do what other children do to get loved and attention; I do my homework, I get good marks at school and I do everything they tell me to do! Every time I do something Dudley can't do which is practically everything, they hate me. Other children would get praise for winning a scholarship of any award but they yell at me and tell me they're going to take my money!
"Nearly every child I see with their parents gets hugs and smiles and is treated kindly! When I'm with Madison half the time I'm jealous of her because of how her family treats her. Her parents dote on her and give her praise when it's due and her grandfather is the same. I hate standing off to the side and watching them interact because I want to see myself with my Mum and Dad. I wish they were there in the audience watching me when I played at the music workshop or took me out to ice cream when I got good marks on a test!"
Mrs. Hendrixson stared down at the boy amazed at the bitter tirade that rushed from his. That was the most she had ever heard from him at one time. He was shaking after his outburst and red faced. He looked as if he were going to collapse at any moment.
She gently reached out and held him close and he sobbed quietly into her neck. She cradled his head in her hand and rocked them back and forth as he continued to whimper, "Why did my parents leave me," or "Why can't my relatives love me like they love Dudley?"
She pulled back and squeezed Harry harder. "Just because they treat your cousin 'better' than you doesn't meant they love him, dear. Your cousin is a very violent and destructive boy, he has no discipline and when he gets out into the world he will be met with the harshness of reality. No one will want to deal with his rotten attitude and when he cries for help his mummy and daddy won't be able to do a thing for him.
"Also, if they truly loved him would they feed him in such a poor fashion? He is dangerously overweight, Harry and if he keeps that up he will have major health issues before he is even 18. Your aunt and uncle might treat Dudley in a way that looks better but it's hurting him in the long run."
Harry pulled away and looked into his teacher's eyes. The sadness in the luminous emerald eyes took her breath away and she nearly didn't hear Harry when he replied, "Even though he is horrible Dudley still gets hugs from Petunia when he scrapes his knee and praise from Vernon when he does good at sports. That's loads more than I have ever gotten."
The silence between them was deafening and Mrs. Hendrixson didn't know what to say. The moments stretched on until Harry's stomach growled again and he glanced towards the kitchen where the finished food was waiting.
She continued to stare at his tear stained face and then squeezed his shoulder. "We should get some food into that loud stomach of yours, Harry."
He looked at her again and she was stunned again by the pain in his young gaze. He sighed and nodded, walking past her, eyes downcast.
"The food does smell really good," he murmured in a slightly hoarse voice.
Mrs. Hendrixson rose to her feet and put a warm hand on the boy's bony shoulder and gave him a gentle push into the kitchen. He stood there and watched as she put the two sandwiches onto two different plates and moved towards him to go into the dining room. When he offered to help she shook her head and pulled out a chair for him to sit in across from her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Harry shifted uncomfortably in the chair and fiddled with the silverware and smoothed out the cream tablecloth in from of his.
She ran her hand through her light blond hair and sighed. She pulled oven mitts on and picked up the heavy Crockpot and put it on the table in between them. She put a bowl in front of him and laded out a large amount of soup and put it in his bowl. She passed the plate of sandwiches towards him and smiled when he took a large bite out of it. He began to eat his soup and his eyes lit up with pleasure and he ate at a faster pace.
"Thank you Mrs. Hendrixson, this is very good."
"You're welcome, dear," she murmured with a soft smile.
After dinner was done, Mrs. Hendrixson showed Harry her music studio. His eyes lit up as he took in the room. There was a baby grand in the middle of the room and shelves full of music. There was an antique trombone on a stand ("My husband plays Trombone in the orchestra, Harry.") and a music stand with music sitting on top of it.
He smiled and then moved towards the piano and sat down on the stool. He ran his fingers over the shining white keys and began to play some scales. He smiled as the notes floated up to him clear and pure. He began to play 'Rondo al Turca' by Mozart.
Mrs. Hendrixson leaned against the wall and smiled as she listened to Harry play. She had known that bringing him to that room would be a good idea. He moved from one song to another in quick succession and his playing became more frantic. Even if it was scales or etudes or anything, he played to get most of his sadness out of him.
Harry played for nearly an hour and a half until his teacher gently coaxed him away from the piano. His fingers throbbed from pounding the keys and his back ached and his head hurt, but he felt much better. He allowed himself to be pulled into Mrs. Hendrixson's guest bedroom. His eyes widened as he took in the large bed with its plump pillows and warm blankets. He had been in pajamas then entire evening so he climbed into the bed and nearly cried when he snuggled into the firm mattress. He had never in his life (that he could remember) had such a wonderful bed and his own room, even if it was only for one night.
Mrs. Hendrixson tucked Harry into her guest bedroom and wrapped the quilt securely around his small body. He was still very upset, even after eating a bowl of soup and half and sandwich and talking to her. At least he had found some way of release by playing the piano. After dinner she could only hold Harry and gently card her fingers through his flyaway hair and try to comfort him.
'There has to be something I can do. If things keep going the way they do Harry might end up seriously hurt by his relatives. He's already emotionally damaged and that will take years of help to sooth the pain he's been through.'
She watched the young boy sleep for a moment and backed away slowly until she got to the door. She pulled it closed, but didn't shut it and went down the hall to her own room. There was nothing more she could do until tomorrow and she was dreading that day.
Wow, I haven't have not updated in over three months! I apologize everyone, I had MASSIVE WRITER'S BLOCK . There were a lot of little details that I had to pay attention to.
Please leave some comments and keep reading. Thanks a bunch!
I know that might be a little out of character for Petunia to be so rude to Madison's family like that. After all, she has to put up appearances for herself and Vernon, especially since he works for the Ackhardts…