Searching For The Light
Chapter 1: Privet Drive
Short A/N: This fic is what I imagine would happen if Harry was truly developed to the maximum potential. In this fic Harry will be driven to accomplish things, amazing impossible things, but magic overcomes all odds. One of my biggest pet peeves about canon Harry is how he does so little to question things, he doesn't have any critical thinking skills imo. So if you want a strictly canon Harry, you can click away now. This is a smart!harry fic who might be out of character, so if you want a bumbling Dumbledore follower like canon, this isn't it. I haven't decided if I will do bashing, hopefully not, but I reserve the right. Some dark overtones. No pairings yet so rated T for now. I don't own Harry Potter yada yada don't sue me. Enjoy!
Number four privet drive was a quiet place. From inside the cupboard under the stairs, the only sound Harry Potter could hear was the gentle clinking of the wind chime his aunt had hung on the front porch. Harry really liked the wind chime, at night he would listen to it for hours. Harry liked to spend time thinking about all the pleasant sounds the wind chime made, and what it would be like if he rearranged one sound with another. Harry had lots of time to do this, since his uncle, Vernon Dursley, made him spend the entire day inside the cupboard.
Uncle Vernon had made it very clear to Harry many times that he was never to leave his cupboard without permission. Harry couldn't obey, since he couldn't control when he got hungry or when he had to use the bathroom. Uncle Vernon wouldn't accept this reasoning, and would get very angry when Harry disregarded this order, often getting very physical whenever he caught his nephew. As a result, Harry had learned how to be completely silent, even when moving. It was a skill that was paid for in blood, quite literally, but something strange happened whenever Harry was punished.
His uncle often got carried away punishing him, and when he was done, Harry would have to crawl back to the refuge of his cupboard. Afterwards, Harry would usually blackout from the pain, but when he woke up, he felt good as new. No matter how many bloody wounds or broken bones his uncle inflicted upon him, after a small amount of rest, it would be like it had never happened with no sign of injuries. Harry had to hide this strange ability of his to miraculously heal, he feared what his uncle would do if he caught Harry doing something unnatural. The Dursleys abhorred unnaturalness, and they punished him severely for even the smallest hint of him doing anything out of the ordinary. One time he had somehow appeared on the roof of the school. How he had done it, he had no idea. All he knew was that one minute he had been running from Dudley, and the next thing he knew, he was on the inaccessible roof. The fire department had to be called to get him down. Harry hadn't been allowed out of his cupboard for weeks.
A small beep broke the quiet stillness of the night. Harry looked to his wrist and checked the small scuffed watch he had taken from his cousin Dudley. His cousin hadn't liked it since it was too hard to read for him, and had thrown it out as soon as he thought nobody was looking. Harry though, could read the watch, and had been fascinated by all the small moving gears that were visible on the face of the watch. Harry had to angle his watch just right to catch the small beam of moonlight that shined under the door.
It was midnight, August 2nd, 1985. Today was his fifth birthday and Harry was very excited. Now, he was officially old enough to become a member of the British Library, and that meant he could finally check out books. Harry had long ago read every book in the school library, but since the library was one of the safest places in school from Dudley and his gang, Harry had read through them all twice and committed them to memory. It was lucky that the school Harry attended shared a campus with the University of Surrey. At first it had been hard understanding some of the bigger books, but once he expanded his vocabulary, he understood the new big words. And once he understood what he was reading, the comprehension flowed easily.
Harry remembered at first he had gotten quite a few strange looks as a four year old, carrying around books that were bigger than his head. It was made worse by the fact that Harry wasn't a normal looking four-year-old either, in fact, he was very eye-catching in appearance.
Harry had long ruby red hair that seemed to flicker like fire in the light, and swayed as if in a small breeze constantly, even inside. His red hair contrasted sharply with his ghostly pale face, which was shaped with smooth angles that seemed to draw people into his emerald green eyes. His bright green eyes shined with an aura of perceptiveness out of place for someone his age. Harry was of a lithe build, and he moved with an elegant grace, never making a sound when he moved, seeming to float like he was walking on a cushion of air. All in all, Harry was a beautiful child, an otherworldly, unnaturally beautiful child.
Harry knew he wasn't normal looking, his Aunt Petunia liked to remind him very frequently, often saying that he looked just like his "good for nothing freak mother." So it was no surprise to him that it proved impossible to just read in peace like he had initially planned. One of the older students had been so intrigued by the spectacle of a small child reading big adult books that she had come up to him to talk. The blonde girl had come up to him and said "Hey there little guy, aren't you a tad young to be reading advanced anatomy textbooks?" Well Harry had been expecting a question like this, so he had an answer prepared before she had even opened her mouth. "Aren't you a tad old to have nothing better to do then bother me?" he quickly retorted. Rather than scare the blonde off like he had been hoping, she seemed delighted at the witty reply, and promptly launched into a wholly unwelcome banter session with Harry.
From then on, Sofia - as he had learned her name was - would always join him in the library when he was reading, sometimes bringing along her friends who would fawn and coo over him. One time Sofia had been going on and on complaining about one particular problem in her physics class that she just couldn't understand. Harry just wanting to have some quiet, had slammed the book he was reading down, and walked over to explain and solve the problem in such a way that he made it seem like a toddler could do it. He barely noticed her wide eyes or her jaw drop, but the ensuing silence was welcome.
After that, Sofia would constantly ask him questions about the classes she was taking, and Harry answered the best he could. Their friendship deepened immensely, and Sofia noticing how little he ate, had started to bring him lunch to eat with her. Sofia had turned into something of an older sister figure to Harry. She drove him home sometimes since she lived close by to him. Sofia had even given him a prepaid bus card for Christmas, and Harry had ditched school one day to go to the British Library. Harry couldn't take anything out since he was too young. The old librarian at the counter couldn't be convinced when Harry had tried to argue with him. It didn't matter though, Harry had given Sofia a huge hug the next time he saw her, much to her delight. To harry, it was the best gift he ever got. Harry didn't often outwardly express what he truly felt, instead pretending to be annoyed with her constant presence, but inside he was deeply grateful for the company Sofia provided.
None of the other children his age would talk with him because of the sway Dudley held over them. They were all afraid of Dudley, so they all pretended like Harry didn't exist, which made school very lonely. When he wasn't in the library studying with Sofia, he spent his time in the music room.
The music teacher, Mrs. Grubb, said he was a natural musician. She said he was talented with every instrument in the music classroom, but Harry's favorite was the old harp that had gathered dust in the storeroom. Mrs. Grubb told him that she usually didn't let students play it since the instrument was her grandmother's, but she made an exception for Harry. Harry was glad she did, since the harp filled him with an inner peace nothing else could give him. Whenever he was feeling particularly sad or lonely, he would pour his feelings into the strings, producing haunting tunes.
That was all last year, and this year Sofia was graduating and Harry was worried about what life would be like without her. Sofia had provided him protection from Dudley, since they didn't want to mess with adults. With her gone, he would lose his protection, his only reliable source of food, and most importantly, his only friend.
Harry continued thinking it over until the sun started to peak under the door. Eventually, he decided there was nothing he could do, so he put it out of his mind. He turned over on the thin mattress and flicked a spider off his leg, before drifting to sleep. His last thoughts on the contradiction of feeling excited and afraid at the same time.
A/N: Hi please review! I'll only continue if there's really an interest