With his worn out backpack over his shoulders, the straps digging into Harry's skin with how much things he'd stuffed inside, he made his way into the building. There was a large Welcome Back banner over the front entrance. The colorful walls were something he'd greatly missed. The summer holidays weren't nearly as fun for him, not when he was forced in his cupboard when he wasn't working on his chores. Harry disliked his outdoor chores the most because not only would the heat be unbearable at times, but the faint noise of kids his age shrieking happily whilst they played would reach his ears, reminding him of how he couldn't have fun like that.
But it didn't matter now.
Now they were back in school and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had to let him out. He was in Year Four and felt very grown up. He'd even grown an inch or two since last year so that meant he didn't need to use the foot stool to use the water fountain anymore. He was thoroughly glad because his height was one of the many reasons Dudley and his friends made fun of him. But it wasn't his fault he was so much shorter. Maybe his parents had been short, too.
Harry was lost within his own thoughts. He didn't see a foot coming out of nowhere. Consequently, he tripped and let out a squeak of alarm. He face planted right on the marble tile. Behind him, there was some laughter. Harry's face scrunched up in pain, slowly sitting back up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the culprit: Piers. Piers was one of Dudley's friends who often came around and was extra mean to Harry for no reason.
"Better watch your step, Potter," Piers jeered.
Dudley came into Harry's vision next. "Good one," he laughed like it was supposed to be clever.
Harry pulled his knee up close, grimacing. It was skinned already, bleeding a little, too. He glared up at them with as much intensity as an eight year old could muster. "That wasn't very nice."
Dudley and Piers made faces, imitating his words in exaggerated voices.
"That isn't very nice! Oooh!"
"Stop it!" Harry didn't like being mocked.
"Stop it!" They repeated in sync. "Stop it!"
Piers snuck a mischievous glance over at Dudley, snatching Harry's glasses right off his face.
Harry jumped to his feet. "Give those back!"
"Give those back!" Piers mocked him.
"I mean it! They're mine!" Harry's heart quickened. He hoped Piers would give them back before the bell would ring. He couldn't go through the rest of the day without them.
"Now, now, where are you manners?" Piers teased. "Didn't anybody teach you some?'
"Nah," Dudley chimed in, "he's an orphan. He didn't have anybody to teach him."
They laughed.
Harry did not.
Piers turned to Dudley, grinning wickedly. "What should I do with 'em?"
"Break them!" Dudley burst out gleefully.
"No!" Harry erupted.
"Mum and Dad won't get him another," Dudley told Piers.
"Please, Piers, don't do it!"
"What's in it for me?" Piers twirled the glasses in his hand.
"I don't know," Harry looked desperate. He'd be willing to do just about anything so he could see properly again. "What do you want?"
"Gimme your lunch," Piers ordered.
Harry's body slumped. "My lunch? But what am I gonna eat?"
Piers shrugged, holding his hands behind his back and trying to pull off a sad look on his face. "I guess you don't want your glasses after all..."
He started to walk away.
"No, wait!" Harry said quickly. He clumsily rummaged through his backpack through his blurry vision, coming across the plain brown sack he had his lunch in. "Here."
Piers' eyes widened greedily. He tossed the glasses to the side, eagerly digging through to see what goodies were inside. He threw out whatever he wasn't interested in eating, which ended up being a plain turkey sandwich and a tiny bottle of water. "What's the big idea?" He demanded. "Where's all the good stuff?"
"He can't have any," Dudley jeered. "Freaks don't get sweets."
Harry finally found his glasses. He got up and while he kept his eyes to the floor, he said bravely, "I'm not a freak."
"Yeah you are!" Dudley insisted. "Mum and Dad says so!"
"You mean say so," Harry quietly corrected.
Dudley didn't like that all much. He shoved Harry to the ground, much to the amusement of the gathering crowd. They laughed at him when he went crashing to the floor on his back. It sent pain up his spine. "Freak!" His cousin shouted.
It got the other kids to chant as well. "Freak! Freak! Freaky boy!"
Harry hurryingly grabbed his backpack and his lunch items that Piers threw to the floor, pushing past the crowd as he went to his classroom. The laughter became distant after a while, but it still hurt nonetheless.
/
Harry went inside the colorful classroom. There were posters all over the walls, some were for measurements, others were for maps and reminders for how to make a sentence with the right punctuation or if one needed to know how to not make a run-on sentence. He stood near the door, glancing around. The desks were close to each other and oh! They had lids that lifted up where you could put your things inside!
"Hello there," A pretty lady with soft looking light brown hair and a sweet smile came over to him. She had on a bright yellow dress and her hair was curly and bouncy on her shoulders. "I'm Miss Kelli. What's your name?"
"Harry Potter," Harry said shyly.
"It's lovely to meet you, Harry," Miss Kelli smiled. 'Why don't you take a seat? We'll get started shortly. You can sit anywhere you like."
"Okay," Harry nodded and surveyed the room. Most of the seats were empty except for one desk that was next to the large window that faced the playground. A boy was sitting there all alone. His clothes were worn, like somebody had already had them before he did. His hair was dark brown, almost black like Harry's own hair and he seemed to be frowning. Maybe he was upset because no one was sitting with him?
He went right over to him with a beaming smile on his face. The boy looked up. He didn't say anything, he only stared. "Hi I'm Harry!" Harry extended his hand but the boy did not shake it. "What's your name?"
The boy still didn't speak.
"Did you hear me?" Harry tilted his head. Maybe he needed to be louder. "I said my name is Harry. What's-"
"I heard you," the boy said, annoyed.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Why didn't you say anything, then?"
"I didn't want to," The boy said coolly.
"You don't have to be mean," Harry frowned. "I was only asking."
"Well don't," The boy glared at him as if he caused all the problems in the world. Kinda like how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did.
"What's going on here?" Miss Kelli came by, looking down at them, namely the boy, sternly. "Are you two getting along?"
Harry didn't want the boy to get in trouble on the first day, even if he was a grouch. "We're fine, Miss Kelli, honest."
"You didn't sound fine," she wasn't convinced. "Tom, you sounded upset. What's wrong?"
So that's what the boy's name was.
Tom crossed his arms, another scowling coming out. "I'm fine," he ground out.
"Tom, we don't talk to people like that," Miss Kelli said patiently. She pointed to a poster to the left of them, it was all about how to express yourself in a positive and helpful manner. "Do you see that over there? When you're feeling angry, you need to take a deep breath and try to focus on something else. You don't take it out on other people, okay?"
Tom huffed out a puff of air. "Fine."
Miss Kelli said a few more things before she went back to her own desk. Harry stood there feeling awkward, like he was intruding on something. He waited until the teacher was gone to say anything else. "M'sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble."
Tom spared him a two second look. Then he went back to looking down at the wooden desk.
"Can I sit down?" Harry asked, tentatively inching his way closer. Tom didn't respond. But he also didn't move or explicitly say no, so he took that as encouragement to sit down. "Are you new?" He decided to ask while taking out the materials he needed for the day. "I haven't seen you around before."
"No," Tom said shortly.
"Really?" Harry was surprised. "Oh."
A moment later, he had another question.
"Were you in Miss Isobel's class?"
The younger years were separated into two, sometimes three different classrooms depending on how big the year was. Harry's year had lots of students so there were three classrooms for fourth years. They all had different schedules so that was likely why he didn't notice Tom until now. It was strange, though; usually someone stayed with that same group until they were finished with primary school. They weren't moved to another group unless they'd done something really bad. Tom didn't look bad. He seemed harmless.
"Or Mr. Kenny's?"
"So what if I was?" Tom grumbled.
"Why are you in this class then?"
"None of your business," Tom told him.
"But why?"
"Because I said so."
Harry got quiet after that. That's what Uncle Vernon said during the rare times when he broke the Dursleys rule of asking a question.
/
"We should be friends," Harry declared during art class. Miss Kelli took them to another room filled with artwork on the walls, easels in the corners and smocks hanging up to wear over their clothes. The easels were placed in rows and they were to sit at one next to their desk partner. They were allowed to paint whatever they wanted.
Tom was using a tiny brush dipped in green paint. He'd made a giant snake and was currently working on the scales. He paused, looking just like Aunt Petunia, as if he'd swallowed something unpleasant. "What?"
"We should be friends," Harry smiled.
"No," Tom said bluntly.
"Why not?"
"I don't want to."
"But why?"
Tom gripped the brush much harder than before.
/
Tom was sitting alone at lunch. Just like in Miss Kelli's room, he saw at the table that was furthest from everyone. Even though he declined Harry's suggestion that they be friends, he was still going to try. Maybe Tom was having a bad day. No one talked to him at all. It was like Harry's situation, only this wasn't because Dudley had scared the other kids. People just seem to naturally avoid Tom.
Poor Tom
Harry felt bad for him. He must have definitely been lonely. That only proved to him that Tom needed a friend. He couldn't be by himself forever! So he made his way over there. He tried to be quick about it; Dudley was coming into peripheral vision.
"Hey freak!"
Harry sat on the bench, doing his best to ignore his cousin. "Hi," he said.
Tom stared.
"I told you I didn't want to be your friend."
"Okay," Harry said instead of arguing with him. "But I have nowhere to sit. Can I sit here."
Tom muttered something he didn't quite catch.
"Where's your lunch?" Harry peered at him, his eyes brimming with curiosity.
Tom glowered at him.
It dawned on Harry in that minute. "Do you not have any lunch?"
Tom crossed his arms, his gaze wandering elsewhere. The faintest hint of red appeared in his cheeks.
"Do you want some of mine?" Harry offered. "I haven't got much, only a sandwich and water. But you can have half of it."
Tom looked like he didn't believe him. Not until Harry unevenly tore the sandwich in half. He gave the bigger piece to Tom, who had a flash of surprise on his face. He hadn't expected to be given anything. Harry glanced around, wondering how he could give Tom some water. He spotted a stack of plastic cups on a wheeling cart not too far from them. "You should get one of those," he said. "I'll give you some water."
"Why?" Tom narrowed his eyes.
Harry blinked innocently. "Aren't you thirsty?"
A few seconds passed by.
Tom got up to fetch the cup. He dropped the cup in front of Harry, watching determinedly as if to ensure that he was actually going to oit. And he did; he poured half of it into the cup and slid it back to Tom.
He didn't immediately dig in like Harry thought he would. In fact, he was just looking at it. Like it was some strange object.
"Do you not like it?" Harry asked. "I don't have anything else but I can see if I can bring something different tomorrow."
He watched as Tom's eyes lifted from the sandwich to meet his own.
"Why did you give me this?"
"You looked hungry," Harry said.
"You don't even know me."
"That's alright," Harry said. "I don't mind. I'll share with you tomorrow too if you want."
Tom seemed like he was pondering his words and then very slowly he took a bite of the sandwich.
/
He didn't know if he should go up to Tom this time. He was under a tall tree with his knees pulled up to his chest, glancing over at the fence. Harry wanted to; he wanted another chance at talking to him. But the other boy was giving off a feeling that made him reconsider; it was just like when Uncle Vernon had a bad day at work. He would go to his chair after coming back. Aunt Petunia knew better than to disturb and she'd tell Dudley to go find something else to do than watch the telly, which usually upset him until he was promised a new toy or a day full of fun with whatever he wanted to do.
Harry stood in the middle of the playground, watching him. He didn't see Dudley coming up behind him until it was too late. He was yet again shoved, falling to the ground with one swift swipe. Harry turned on his side, looking up at his cousin with dread filling in his stomach.
"Leave me alone, Dudley," Harry's knees were aching.
"Why should I?" Dudley sneered.
"You're being mean!"
"Aww," Dudley mocked. "Is the freak gonna cry like a whittle baby?"
"I'm not a baby!" Harry jumped to his feet.
"Yeah you are!"
"No I'm not!"
"Yeah you are!" Dudley said loudly. "You're a baby! Baby, baby!"
"Stop it!" Harry said hotly.
"Stop it," Dudley imitated him.
Harry glared as fiercely as he could. He really wanted to wipe that look off his cousin's face but he didn't want to be grounded to his cupboard. Instead, he stormed off towards the tree Tom was under. He'd seen the whole thing, evidently. His expression was impassive as Harry plopped down.
"Do you know him?" Tom nodded toward Dudley's direction.
"He's my cousin," Harry scowled for the first time that day. "He hates me."
Tom only hummed. "He's stupid," he said at last. "He still can't even remember his times tables."
That brought a smile out of Harry. It was true; Dudley still struggled with previous years' material. It was one of the reasons why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia got mad at Harry whenever he did better than Dudley.
Tom's eyes landed on Harry once again. It made him feel like the other boy was staring deep into his soul or something. "Does he hurt you?"
"Huh?" Harry blinked. "Er, sometimes."
"Sometimes how?" Tom said impatiently.
Harry squirmed. He wasn't supposed to talk about that. "Er, well-"
"Don't bother lying to me," Tom said sharply. "I can tell when people are."
"I wasn't," Harry insisted. He fiddled with his hands under the scrutiny of Tom's gaze. "Er, well, he hits me sometimes...and he has this game he plays with his friends, Harry Hunting."
Tom arched an eyebrow.
A flush came over Harry's face. The stare made his fidgeting worse. "They like to chase after me. Once Dudley's friend Piers...he held my arms and Dudley punched me." He grimaced, just remembering how painful his stomach was to the touch for weeks after.
Tom's cold gaze lingered on Dudley, who was a ways away, standing in front of a smaller boy, holding up his fist threateningly. "He's a coward," he spat. "Only bloody cowards hit people."
Harry pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment paper from his pocket and a couple of crayons. He was continuing to work on the picture he'd started this morning during their free time in Miss Kelli's classroom. He still listened to what Tom was saying.
"-wonder how he'd like it, getting hit back," Tom said in a scarily calm voice.
Harry's head snapped in horror. Was Tom going to try and hit Dudley back? He didn't want him getting hurt. He couldn't, he just couldn't! He'd be outnumbered.
"You're...you're not going to do anything, are you?"
Tom only smirked.
/
They were released at the end of the day. The younger years had to wait to be picked up by their parents but fourth years could walk home if they wanted to. Harry hurriedly grabbed his things, rushing down the hallway-but not running-so he could catch Tom in time before he left. The entrance doors flew open; he stood at the top of the cobblestone stairs, looking out for him. The sun was shining, a warm shadow coming over his face. He brightened up when he saw Tom at the end of the walkway, about to turn right.
He rushed down there.
"Tom! Tom!"
Tom made a face when he saw him but it didn't hurt Harry's feelings. He came to an abrupt stop in front of him, breathless and panting to re-catch his breath.
"What?" Tom said grumpily. "What do you want now?"
Harry grinned toothily, but also a bit shyly. "I made you something!"
Tom blinked.
He held it up; it was a stick figure drawing of the both of them. Harry was drawn in red and he colored Tom in bright green. With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, he presented the drawing to him. He rocked on his heels. "Do you like it?"
Tom kept his eyes on the drawing, staring at it in wonder. "You drew this for me?" He demanded.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. He pointed to the corner of the paper where Tom's name was scribbled in. "See? It has your name on it. Well, do you like it?"
"It is...acceptable," Tom decided on. In a whisper, he added, "Thank you, Harry."
Harry beamed. "You're welcome!"
There was a tiny smile on Tom's face.
Both boys were quiet. The only noise came from the chirping birds, the cars that passed by and the chatter of the other children. That is, until the doors came open again and Dudley ran out. Harry's hands flew up to his mouth, his shoulders beginning to shake with laughter.
Dudley had a bucket over his head and apparently, he was having difficulty getting it off. "Mummy!" he wailed, running around helplessly. (Harry wondered how he didn't fall on the stairs). "Mummy, help!" Dudley's friends tried to run after him, yelling for him to stop so they could help. He did not do that, however. He kept running until he hit a tree and fell right on his back.
Harry laughed.
"Oh, I wonder if he's alright," Tom said in a voice that suggested he felt oppositely. "Wouldn't it be a shame if he was hurt?"