There were rumors circulating about someone accusing Dursley of child abuse, claiming to have evidence of medical records and photos, plus anonymous witness statements. But worse was the rumor about some members of the local police siding with the supposed abuser rather than turning him in, one that caused too many wondering eyes to glance their way.

But, of course, Dursley wouldn't have been stupid enough to let someone like that keep asking questions and making a bother of their selves. He was good at taking care of 'business', as it were. No, Dursley would keep drinking for a while and make trouble before the thought of losing his job and more importantly, his pay, would get to him and he would straighten himself out soon enough.

He had to.

Or Bentley and Dearborn would go down with the man as accessories in a child abuse case with the possibility of murder and that would not do, not at all.

Fortunately for the two anxious officers, Dursley was, indeed, slowly but surely drinking less and less and as a result, he was not as prone to being arrested for lewd or violent behavior as well.

However, interested and determined individuals beyond the reach of his fists and money have already set in motion certain events which would cause his downfall; Miss Smith, along with her friends and allies among the various child protection agencies in London had been working for a bit more than 2 years to put together a case that no amount of wealth, influence or threats would be able to "sweep under the rug", as the Americans would say.

The only end result that anyone one of them would accept, after going over the medical records, compiling witness statements and even being privy to a personal anecdote by Miss Smith, herself, would be for Dursley to be sentenced to a lifetime in jail. Hopefully, they could angle for his incarceration to be assigned to a federal institution, but they would take what they could get. All that mattered was that the despicable man pays for his crimes.

There was just one problem: their main witness, the one who—if he didn't show up in court or in front of officials to give a statement—would make the case null and void by his simple absence, or unwillingness to cooperate.

Harry James Potter.

Harry found himself making friends far more easily than he thought he was capable of and that surprised him constantly, despite his optimistic thoughts from that first day at the orphanage. Besides Jack, he had standing invitations to sit with a few boys for lunch and dinner, and sometimes breakfast if Jack had slept in and missed it. Harry rarely did since he knew all too well what it felt like to survive on only one 'meal' a day or over several days if the Dursleys were feeling a bit vindictive, back when he was living with them.

He found others who shared his love of gardening—without Aunt Petunia around to criticize his work or complain he wasn't doing enough, he'd realized he actually liked gardening. He was friendly enough with a few of the older girls that they didn't mind teaching him how to sew, so he could finally make his clothes half-way decent…or fit him, at the least. And for some reason some of the younger kids even liked him; they always made these strange babbling sounds that apparently meant they were happy to see him and toddled over to him, grabbing onto the hem of his pants, looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes.

He always felt a bit frightened of squishing them or hurting them but after the first few times and that one time Ms. Tremaine assured him that, "no, falling on one's rump does not cause permanent damage whatever Mr. Hillcrest might have said!"—he felt he did no worse than the babysitters-in-training, who messed up more than once and for worse reasons than he did, though not one of them deliberately tried to hurt the little ones.

…At least, that's what they said, but they were also being paid to look after the babies so maybe he should check in once in a while—just to make sure, not that he thought anything bad was actually happening, but you never know—because money makes people do stupid and/or bad things.

Case in point: Uncle Vernon + no bonus = a bad day for Harry.

Lucy had never been abused—not physically, at least—of that Harry was absolutely sure.

She doesn't cringe like some of the others when Miss Tremaine sometimes raises her voice at some supplier on her office phone and forgets to close the door all the way, to keep bored and restless, but mostly suspicious, kids from listening in on her conversations. Everyone was always a bit quiet after her rants against a 'Mister Gregory'—always the same man and always around the same time as when she ordered the foodstuffs for the orphanage.

But she did flinch whenever anyone raised a voice at her, which could have been because she wasn't used to being yelled at but….she started twitching, just a little bit, starting edging away and hunching in on herself. It was so slight, you'd have to be watching real closely to know any different.

Her eyes become even blanker than they usually are and she doesn't speak for days after. He's not sure if she's doing it consciously or not but he knows it makes him uneasy; he feels like she's just a breathing, talking doll most days but whenever she gets like that he wonders if she really isn't a doll and someone's just placed a spell on her to make her seem real.

He can never really decide afterwards if magic being the reason would make the whole thing better or worse.

Harry thinks he understands Lucy and Jack a bit more when he finds them together one night.

They weren't snogging or anything like that, but they were close together—because she was puking her guts out, it looked like. She clutched the toilet with both hands, fingers curled like claws, as Jack held her hair back for her.

In the mirror above them, Harry realized with dawning horror that what he thought was just a trick of the moonlight wasn't. That was really her face: blotchy and red and wrong, and he wanted to say it was because she had been crying, but angry scars—old and new, criss-crossed her face—and what was left, was melted down like wax.

Right now, she really looked like a doll whose maker hadn't done a very good job, leaving her disfigured and broken; it wasn't just the scarring and the burns, themselves, that horrified him the most, it was the reasons behind their existence that made him question who could have done this to her.

….Or if she had done this to herself.

He knew what it was like to hate himself so much that he wouldn't have thought twice about cutting himself—did, in fact, cut himself those few times when he just needed that release—or to think that maybe, just maybe if he was too ugly, too much a Freak, that his Uncle would leave him alone—to rot in his cupboard or die, he hadn't much cared in those horrible moments.

"I'm here, Lu, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You hear me? I'm right here…"

He listens to Jack as he whispers those words over and over, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of her retching. Harry steps back from the scene, making sure to step carefully, so they don't hear him.

He wasn't ready to face this—face them.

He knew from his own experience with Bad Things that even if he had had someone like Jack—like Miss Smith—to care for him and be there, he still wouldn't have wanted anyone else to know. It was too much like giving something of his away, even if it hurt and made him sick and want to curl up and sleep forever—still, it was his and his alone—his secret and something only he could decide if he wanted to share or not.

So he left them in that patch of moonlight and took the long way back to his rooms because he needed time to process and consider this new piece of the puzzle that was Lucy: beautiful and miserable in a way he didn't understand—yet.

He observes them when they're together and comes to the conclusion that they were friends, if not close to one another. He wonders if he would ever find someone like that, but squashes the little bugger because wishes were useless. And thinks that if they didn't know each other as well as he thought, tthen hey at least still liked each other despite the secrets—or perhaps, appreciated each other more because of them?

He couldn't exactly understand how you could ever like someone when you knew how much of a Freak they were. Did it take a certain kind of personality, maybe, like Miss Smith's? Or did you just have to be naïve enough to think it was only a matter of being one thing or another? Harry knew the truth, or at least, a truth—his truth—the only one he'd ever known.

Being a Freak wasn't Normal.

Being a Freak wasn't something you wished for.

Being a Freak….being a Freak meant being alone all the time, even when there were dozens of people around you because they were either so scared or disgusted—or both—that they made a space between you and them.

But he wasn't a Freak anymore was he?

Was he?

AN: Soon, Harry will be contacting a very worried Ms. Smith, who not only needs him as the main witness for the trial she's pushing for but also to know, herself, that he's alright and Dursley really didn't kill him in a fit of drunken anger. Once we get to that point, we'll also be meeting Hermione. Yay!

Question: What do you guys think of the new OC characters I've introduced, Jack and Lucy? What do you guys think especially of Lucy and her 'abuse'? I'll work on Jack later because I have his backstory written out, too, just like Lucy though Lucy's is a bit more fluid—getting some minor but important details worked out.

Question: Does anybody find the repeating refrain of 'I'm a freak' to be unnecessary or does it keep with the story? Because there will be more of that phrase or variation thereof, as he will have to confront his abuser, at last, during the trial and will have to testify. Not to mention that he's not gonna get over his abuse anytime soon. No abused person 'gets over it' in a month, much less years—it could take a lifetime.

Also, just in—hermione will be at the trial, too! I just decided right now because a scene came to me of her arguing with her parents about going to the trial, in support of Harry, and i thought, after he saved her and helped her deal with what happened to her, she would want to be there for him. Hope none of you forgot that their destined meeting will happen and [SPOILER ALERT] the even more fateful kidnapping that turns Harry into a killer!

So, does anyone have any suggestions for the "bad guy" that's gonna be in hermione's storyline? (Info: male, muggle, serial rapist/killer) Suggestions more than welcome!