Chapter 1: The Prayer

Gabriel woke up in his true form in a boring neighborhood. Honestly, the houses looked like they were made with a dang cookie cutter!

Wait! No! That's an insult to cookie cutters! He's actually seen more variety with them.

How the Hell did these houses get so identical? And, more importantly, why?

Gabriel has never seen a more boring neighborhood, and his Trickster nature was begging him to create some sort of chaos to disturb it.

Getting antsy, Gabriel looked around for something, anything, interesting.

Luckily, and unluckily, it didn't take long.

A young boy, looking about five or six was shoved out the door by a horse faced woman with a neck like a giraffe's.

"You ungrateful freak," she said sternly, trying to be quiet, but failing miserably. "How dare you upset Diddlykins on his special day! Now, you better do all your chores or you'll be in your cupboard for a week with no meals! And don't think that Vernon won't hear about this!"

The woman then smacked the poor boy and then stormed into the house, slamming the door in his face.

Tears rolled down the boy's face as he used his oversized shirt to dry them. The clothes looked they they were swallowing the boy whole. They obviously didn't belong to him.

The boy was too frail. He looked like one good breeze would blow him away. And, he looked so pale. And, not the type that said he barely got any sun. No. There were splotches of red that indicated that he was sun burnt. He looked sickly.

His wrists were too narrow when they escaped the expansive folds of his sleeves. His face was gaunt. His hair, while messy—looked greasy and lacked a healthy luster.

And, to Gabriel's furry, he saw bruises. They peaked from the collar of his shirt and his uncovered shoulder when his oversized shirt fell. The boy winced when he knelt down to weed the flowers and he favored his left arm and his right leg.

Gabriel's Grace flared in his rising fury.

It looks like he found his new victims.

Gabriel smirked dangerously.

Now all he needed was a new vessel and to regain his Grace. He noticed that he felt weaker than before...

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Harry looked around wearily. For the past couple of days he could've sworn that he felt someone watching him. But, every time he looked around, there was no one there. It was getting to the point where he was jumping at shadow.

And, he wouldn't dare tell the Dursley's. Not only would they make fun of him, they'd likely lock him in his cupboard for his 'freakishness'.

Harry wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

Tears threatened to poor from his eyes and Harry hurriedly tried to dry them.

"Hey, Freak," a mean voice called and Harry spun around to see his fat pig of a cousin. "I'm bored. How about we play a game?"

Dudley smiled cruelly and Harry tensed, already knowing what was coming.

"Oh, I know," Dudley said in a false cheery tone. "How about Harry Hunting?"

Dudley's goons chuckled dumbly and Harry prepared to run. Luckily, he was faster than them so he might be able to get away.

"Get him," Dudley screamed and Harry bolted as the goons lumbered towards him.

Harry panted as he ran. While he was fast, he didn't have much stamina. That was probably due to barely being fed and only just getting enough water to survive. Pain raced up his side as he forced himself to keep going at a steady pace. His bruises were protesting, but he ignored it. Occasionally, he would make sharp turn and back track through the multiple trees surrounding the school's playground in an effort to lose them.

However, being at school had it's disadvantages. There was no place to really hide—it would take to long to try to climb a tree—and he'd get in trouble if he ran in the halls in an effort to make it to the library.

Why didn't he just go to the library today?!

Oh yeah. They were having a class in there today.

Dang it!

Soon, Harry was forced into a dead end. There was no place to go now. He couldn't get back to the entrance either. He could hear Dudley and his goons stomping their way towards him.

Harry was panicking so much that he had trouble breathing. He felt somebody watching him again and he spun around.

He just wanted to be away from here!

Then, suddenly, he found himself on the roof.

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Gabriel was frustrated. While there were people around this awful neighborhood that believed in his Father, there were none devote. None of them would say "Yes". Plus, there was nobody he checked that would be able to contain his Grace.

He really didn't want to go to far away to find a vessel.

He was getting worried about the kid. His soul looked beaten down and it looked like he was on the verge of giving up. Plus, there was an odd dark spot on his soul. It felt vile and disgusting, and Gabriel was sure it was leeching off the kid's soul.

He needed a vessel, and he needed it yesterday.

Gabriel cursed as he watched the neighborhood.

The kid, who he learned was named Harry through his snooping, was at school. This should be a prime time to find a vessel, but something was telling him he should be with the kid.

He cursed again in indecision. He wanted to get to the kid, but he really needed a vessel so he could help him. He may be an amazingly powerful cosmic wavelength of light—thank you Cassie for the description—but it was the Trickster that would get him out of the Hellhole he was in.

And, for that, he needed a vessel...which he didn't have.

Freaking perfect.

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Harry cried as he laid in a painful ball in the back of his cupboard. His whole body ached and he was having a hard time breathing.

His ribs much be broken again.

His back felt like it was on fire, and he could feel sticky wetness all over his worn, moth-eaten mattress.

The young boy whimpered in pain and dull heart ache.

Why?

Why did this have to happen to him? What did he do to deserve this?

Why didn't his relatives love him?

Tears softly leaked down Harry's cheeks as he hugged his torn, faded blanket.

The young boy cried until he was exhausted, and then he just laid there. He was so emotionally exhausted and tired that the scars on his heart made him feel completely numb.

His mind was slow as he lay there, and he decided to do something he never tried before. However, the lady who told about it at school was nice—a rare occurrence for the poor boy—so he decided it was worth a shot.

"Gabriel," he whispered as he gripped his blanket tightly. "I don't know if you're listening...but my name is Harry. Harry Potter..."