Harry couldn't help but smile triumphantly as he walked past the cupboard that he once called his 'room'.
Grasping the railing he quickly skipped up the stairs and landed onto the previously forbidden second floor with a sense of accomplishment that did not derive from scaling the staircase.
At first he had been terrified of what his aunt and uncle might do to him -once they overcame the fear he'd instilled in them- but so far it seemed like they were intent on placating him by giving him a new bedroom. And, of course, by staying as far away from him and his 'freakish' powers as possible.
The latter had the surprisingly pleasant benefit of having his meals served by the door by someone -most likely his aunt Petunia- whom simply placed the tray outside the door, and gave the it a few stiff raps with her knuckles, to announce that dinner was served.
He had not seen hide nor tail of the person whom brought him the food, only heard their quickly retreating steps as they went to great lengths to avoid him.
It seemed to be a silent agreement that suited him just as much as it did the Dursley's -he hesitated to call them family, the way they'd treated him over the year.
Although Vernon had taken to glare daggers at him every time they passed by each other in the kitchen or hallway -for all that he quickly stepped out of the way, or hid behind the newspapers when Harry glared back.
Harry was also pleased to note that he now had a whole heap of toys, and not a single chore! For all that his toys were broken leftovers from Dudley that simply was never tossed out.
But Harry didn't mind. He hadn't seen a spell to repair things with yet, nor had he managed any attempts at such by himself, but he remained hopeful.
For now, he put the thought from his mind and quickly moved towards the book shelf that now housed his greatest treasure: The Sorcerer's Handbook. The first occult book he'd checked out from the Library, and he still had a few weeks before he had to return it.
Better make the best of the time he had!
The book was colored in blue and surrounded by some sort of mystical pattern with moons. It all looked very magical!
This impression was helped by the nice, big picture on the front, depicting a sword, a cup, a witchy cauldron, a blooming tree branch of some kind, and a mystical symbol he'd now come to recognize as a 'pentagram'.
He picked up his pen and notepad, then opened the book to the page that he had left off his last study session at.
He sent a quick thought of thanks to the How to Study book he had -he really would never have been able to learn so much without it-, and then he got to work.
"Small Shadow magick is ritual magic that has mainly natural effects, in accordance with the commonly accepted laws of both nature and physics..."
His small brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on each sentence, and worked hard to find the essence of the lesson, so he could take good notes for later. The Big Ideas -those were what mattered the most.
He also made a point to note down the words that he didn't fully understand. That way he could look them up later, using his aunt's pretentious Oxford Dictionary collection. The one she kept on display in the living room to make guests think that she and her family was somehow intellectual and smart -rather than the brain-dead slaves of the telly they really were.
He was pretty sure that he'd never in his life seen either of them ever pick up a book -Dudley didn't even read his school books once his homework was done-, but he had heard the neighbors praise how well-read Petunia was.
Yet they called him an illiterate delinquent! When he read ten times as much as any of them!
Apparently appearances mattered more than reality and common sense.
But at least his aunt's need to keep up pretenses made it easy for him to look up the difficult words his new, adult books used, so he supposed it wasn't all bad.
And thanks to his new Study Guide and Flashcards, he was learning a whole heap of new words that he'd never even knew existed, much less what meant! It was all very exciting!
Harry allowed himself a small, vicious smile as he heard the stiff, fearful knocks on the door that announced that dinner was ready and served.
Served to him outside his own door, that is. It made him feel like a King!
He made sure to send a few grateful thoughts to whatever deity or spirit that had granted him his Magic Powers.
Without them, he would still be living in the cramped cupboard under the stairs inhaling the scent of cleaning products, while being forced to work like a slave around the house and barely get enough food to survive.
Now he had his very own room and was being waited on hand-and-foot with food three times a day and no chores at all!
He opened the door and the slight smile turned into a big grin as he saw what was sitting on the silver tray aunt Petunia usually reserved for guests.
Sheppard's pie and a whole small bottle of coke, his favorites! His aunt had truly outdone herself today!
It was good to be Magical. So good!
"Hey, Freak! Get back here!"
Harry kept running. No way he'd stop!
He was huffing and puffing with the strain of it, and hoping that it was even worse for the fat pig-in-a-wig and his friends.
Unfortunately, they were not all as out of shape as Dudley -Malcom being the captain of the school's football team, for one thing-, and he was struggling to outrun the more sporty of his cousin's gang.
He wanted to use his magic and make them all run away in fear... But he'd tried that once, and it only made two of them twitch and almost make a run for it, but the other three managed to advance and get in a hit -making him lose his focus.
A short blast of Fear was all he could manage after that, giving himself just enough time to get a short head-start as the hateful gang ran after him with a speed fueled by the anger at whatever freaky shit he'd pulled.
As it turns out; Bullies hate feeling scared.
He gasped for air, yet pushed himself harder. Sweat dribbled down his brow and made his oversized t-shirt cling to his sweaty skin, and get in his eyes.
Just a little more and he could dive through the hole in the fence and reach the old cat lady's house. She'd defend him for sure!
Just an abandoned house and a small patch of woods left between him and safety now...
He prayed that he'd make it before the bullies caught up. And that she was home!
But luck was not on Harry side today. He tripped over something unseen, crashing painfully into the ground.
"Hey! Look, guys! We caught ourselves a Freak-boy!" Malcom said, wiping the sweat off his own ogre-like face. Before giving Harry a nasty kick to the ribs for trying to escape.
Harry curled up in a ball, trying to protect his head and stomach from the punches and kicks that rained down on him.
"Freak!"
"Fucking Witch! at's what 'e is! We should burn 'im! That's what ma says they did to witches back in the days!"
Laughter. Laughter. More laughter.
Harry spat blood on the ground and wished they were dead.
"I got a lighter!" the small squirt with the rat-like face said, holding it out for their leader to see.
"You wanna do the honor, Big D? It's your Freak cousin after all!"
They all laughed at the joke, as Dudley's face turned beat red.
"Shut up! He's just a Freak! He's not human enough to be related to me!" he spat out, grabbing the lighter from the rat-faced boy.
Harry was the only one who saw the doubt and worry in his eyes as he moved closer. Clearly he was not as comfortable with hurting others as he liked to pretend.
"I'll burn him! I'll do it! I'll fucking do it! It's what freaks like him deserve!" he said, just as Harry felt his arms and legs being grabbed by the rest of the gang, pinning him down no matter how hard he struggled.
Malcom had a particularly malevolent gleam in his eyes. He always was the worst of them.
The lighter touched his forearm for a brief second before Dudley pulled it away, but it hurt more than enough as it was done time and time again -more hesitantly every time.
He tried to hold back, but it hurt so bad!
He screamed.
More laughter. More pain.
"Gimme that! You're doing it wrong!" the malicious-looking troll that went by the name Malcom said.
"Too bad we don't have a cigarette butt. It's what my dad uses when I... When some bitch he knows misbehaves," he said, his jaw tightened and he rubbed his arm.
"Anyway, it's nothing more than he deserves. For being a freak! And a witch! You're nothing but a pussy, aint'cha? Little sissy pussy who can't even play football right!"
Malcom held the lighter to his arm and Harry screamed loudly and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but his grip was like steel, and he held onto the lighter just as strong.
The smell of charred flesh wafted through the air and made the ones with a weaker stomach turn a pale shade of green, even as they held him down.
"AAAAAAH! NO-NO-NO-NO! S-S-STOPPP! P-P-PLEASE! AAAAAAHHH!"
"That's it, sissy-boy! You can't even kick a football straight, sissy-boy! You deserve this you worthless little bitch!" *
Harry closed his eyes and begged-Begged- BEGGEDto escape the flame that was quickly moved back once again after him almost twisting away.
And he waited for the flame to once again burn his skin and sear his flesh in a horrible, gruesome punishment for just existing!
He waited...
...and waited.
...and waited.
Then he cracked his eyes open ever so slightly, before going wide-eyed and scrambled to get away from the edge of the roof that he suddenly found himself on!
How had he gotten up here?! Was it his Magic?! Had his Magic somehow teleported him away from the grip of his cruel tormentors and onto a roof?!
He carefully peered over the rooftop, and down to the junk-filled backyard where he had been just moments before.
Watching the gang looking around in confusion he quickly hunched down behind the pipe, trying to avoid attracting their attention.
This was bad. This was really bad!
...but it was also kinda great!
Harry had to smother the hysteric chuckle that was rising up in his throat at the thought of how he escaped the horrifying attempts of burning him that the big troll-like brute had inflicted on him -only to end up in an equally perilous situation.
He curled up into a small ball behind the pipe, clinging to it as he allowed the tears to stream down his face, trying to keep the hiccuping sobs silent. Tears half of fury at his own weakness, and half of fear of the gang of vicious bullies below.
The burn Dudley had inflicted was quickly fading -his cousin clearly didn't have the stomach to actually inflict harm on someone... at least not yet...
But the burn-mark from Malcom was starting to crackle and peel, and it hurt!
And on top of all that...
...on top of that...
How the heck was he going to get down?!
Harry slammed the book shut, a frown marring his face as he stalked towards the exit of the library.
It was two minutes until the library closed, and this was the third time this week he had tried, and failed, to find a solution to his latest -and greatest- problem; Dudley's gang, and that vicious troll that went by the name Malcom.
Harry hated feeling so weak and defenseless! Hated it with a passion!
Dudley's group might have stayed away from him ever since that incident that landed him on the school roof, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they gathered their courage to attack him again, and do something even worse!
And this time... This time he might not be so lucky...
His hand moved to the still fresh burn on his arm, hissing red under his improvised bandage, and he gritted his teeth and seethed with anger.
He was angry at Malcom for burning him, at Dudley for laughing, at the adults that saw the burn-marks and did nothing! And with himself for being terrified at what they might do next, and for not knowing how to protect himself!
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, just like the books said.
It wasn't fair! But then, he knew that. The world wasn't a fair place. It would chew you up and spit you out, and kick you in the nuts if you weren't the one doing the kicking!
And on top of that, non of the books in the Occult section seemed to teach him how to fight back with magic!
Half of them went on and on about peace and love and some nonsense about how people got back three times what they sent out -which he knew was bullshit!
If that had been true, Dudley and his gang would have been hit by a bus by now! Or been mauled by a pack of wild lions!
But what, what could he DO?!
Harry was so caught up in his thoughts he almost didn't hear it when the librarian called his name.
"-arry. Harry! Wait up!"
He spun on the spot, trying to wipe the anger from his face, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.
He did, however, manage to look abashed when he realized she'd been calling his name several times before he even noticed. And for a second he felt bad for ignoring her, even if it wasn't intentional. She, at least, had always been nice to him.
"Sorry Ma'm. I was thinking about what I read, I didn't hear you there," he said looking at his feet. His ears flushed red at the bald-faced lie.
Luckily for him, the librarian was a gullible woman, whom mistook the signs of a lie for being embarrassed at being caught up in his thoughts, and she smiled reassuringly at him.
"Well, it was a good thing I caught up then," she said with a smile, "I have something for you," she said, her smile turning teasing as she reached into her bag.
Harry's head flew up and his eyes widened in shock.
"B...but it's not even my birthday!" he stuttered out.
No one... No one had EVER given him ANYTHING of their own free will before! Not even his aunt and uncle!
"Oh, don't you worry about it. These would only have ended up in a silly old thrift store anyway. And besides, I think you'll enjoy them much more than some silly old goose from that place!" she said with a friendly wink, as she produced six rather thick pocketbooks from her oversized, brown purse.
One by one they were handed to him, until he almost keeled over from the weight. He made a mental note to work on his strength someday.
She noticed his distress and chuckled, helping him put the books on a nearby table.
"They used to belong to my daughter. But now that she's all grown up and going away for college, she's decided she's too 'old' for things like magic and dragons," she said with a sight and a sad shake of her head.
"But then I remember how much you loved magic and all sorts of magical creatures! So I had the thought that, why not give the books to someone who'd enjoy them! Why, I just bet you'd love them almost more than my daughter once did!" she said in that cheerful, childish tone of voice she always spoke to him in.
Harry picked up a book from the top of the pile.
On the green-colored front cover there was a man clad in a red robe, holding a staff that looked very magical, with mysterious-looking pouches fastened to his belt, and with strange symbols and runes stitched onto the hem of his robe.
Behind him there was another man, a strong and muscular man, holding a sword and a shield, and standing in front of a fierce-looking green dragon.
He picked up another book and looked at it.
This book was blue, and had a pretty woman with short, black hair dressed in armor on the front, with a mighty blue dragon -with a saddle on!- behind her! She held a dragon-inspired helmet in her hand and looked like a mighty leader or general of some sort.
"Dragonlance..." he read, looking up at the librarian with an unreadable expression on his face.
"It's okay if you don't like them. I can always take them to the thrift store. I just thought that-"
"No! No. It's fine! It's more than fine! I love them! Thank you very much!" he hurried to say,
Blinking back tears and swallowing hard.
He smiled down at the books and stroked his hand gently over the well-worn cover, sniffling a bit before carefully placing them in his bag.
He didn't want to admit that he'd never even gotten a real gift for his birthday. That this was the first thing he'd ever gotten in his entire life!
But...
He felt a tear fall on the hand that was holding the book, and then he suddenly felt a pair of warm, soft hands pull him into an embrace, and he realized he hadn't been as subtle, or as controlled, as he thought he was.
He sniffled. And finally he let himself go and sobbed into her arms.
"I...I'm s...sohorry-," he sobbed.
He didn't understand why he was crying. She was being so nice, and he was so happy -he shouldn't cry. But for some reason he just couldn't stop.
"Ssssh, it's okay. You deserve nice things," she said.
And even tho he'd never told her anything about his life, he got the feeling she understood. And cared. And that made him sob even harder.
And he promised himself to read and treasure the books she gave to him every single day. Until he was old and went to university like her daughter, and even after!
It was the best gift ever!
"The grasslands are endless, And summer sings on, And Goldmoon the princess Loves a poor man's son. Her father the chieftain Makes long roads between them: The grasslands are endless, and summer sings on."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat at the sad song the beautiful, gentle woman was singing. Like she'd experienced it herself... That's what it felt like!
He turned the page.
"His love for her was a gift he gave her daily, expecting nothing in return. He walked at her side, his love for her a torch to guide her footsteps along the dark path she walked."
What a strong, beautiful love... Goldmoon was such a gentle, loving woman. She deserved the love of the strong, silent warrior at her side. He didn't know Barbarians could be so gentle and kind.
He turned the page again.
"Save your healing for those who deserve it, Priestess, "Raistlin spoke harshly at Goldmoon even as he pushed away the hand holding the blue crystal staff. "My body was my sacrifice… for my magic. This damage is permanent."
Harry pushed back tears at the sad statement and turned another page.
"'Please, Sturm,' Tanis said quietly. 'Trust me. This is not our time to die.'
Sturm hesitated, glancing around at the goblins inside the Inn. They stood back, fearful of his sword and his skill, but he knew they would charge in a rush if he made the slightest move. 'It is not our time to die.' What odd words. Why had Tanis said them? Did a man ever have a 'time to die'? If so, Sturm realized, this wasn't it- not if he could help it. There was no glory dying in an Inn, trampled by stinking, flapping goblin feet."
"Run, Sturm, you fool! You can't protect the Princess if you're dead!" Harry whispered frantically at the book.
Harry clenched the book so hard his hands hurt.
"'We need light,' Flint said uneasily as night's shadows closed in thickly. Sounds in the woods that had been innocent in the daytime now seemed sinister and threatening.
'Surely you do not fear children's stories,' Raistlin hissed.
'No!' snapped the dwarf. 'I just want to make certain the kender doesn't rifle my pack in the dark.'
Harry pulled the blanket tighter around him and wished he had more light than the flashlight he used to read.
He flipped the page, and continued to read.
'My dear brother,' Raistlin whispered, 'your strength lies in your sword-arm, not your mind. Tanis is wise, as the knight said when we started on this little adventure. You would do well to pay attention to him.'
Harry fought against the desire to flip to the last page and ensure himself it all ended well. He turned another page.
'You're suggesting we follow an animal we can't even see?' Caramon said, his jaw going slack.
'It would not be the strangest thing we have done,' Raistlin commented sarcastically in his whispering voice."
Harry gasped and shivered at the evil of the forest, and the beauty of the ghostly creatures no one but the Knight could see. His hand nearly shook as he turned the page again.
"'Looks are as deceptive as a light-fingered kender,' Raistlin whispered harshly."
He couldn't help but agree with what the mage said...
"Bupu rolled over to face him. Her big eyes were red, her potato-nose swollen. Tears streaked down her dirty face. She snuffled and wiped her hand across her nose. 'I don't want to leave you. I want to go with you,' she said brokenly, 'but- oh -I will miss my people!' Sobbing, she buried her face in her hands.
A look of infinite tenderness touched Raistlin's face, a look no one in his world would ever see. He reached out and stroked Bupu's coarse hair, knowing what it felt like to be weak and miserable, an object of ridicule and pity.
'Bupu,' he said, 'you have been a good and true friend to me. You saved my life and the lives of those I care about. Now you will do one last thing for me, little one. Go back. I must travel roads that will be dark and dangerous before the end of my long journey. I cannot ask you to go with me.'"
Harry wept at the fate of the poor Gullydwarf. He knew what it was like to be hated and ridiculed for something you could not help. He knew what it felt to be mistreated and thought stupid and worthless -even if he was much smarter than the poor sap of a Gullydwarf.
He also wondered how the cold, calculating mage who had sacrificed everything for Magic and Power, who was so hurtful and sarcastic even to his own brother... how he could be so gentle and mild to the lowest of the low, yet so cruel to everyone else.
Wiping his eyes with his sleeves, he continued reading.
'Poor Fizban,' Tas said, blinking tears from his eyes as he floundered in an ocean of white chicken feathers. His last spell must have been featherfall like Raistlin uses. Wouldn't you know it? He just got the feathers.'
Harry sobbed again as the poor, confused mage that could never remember a single spell fell to his death.
Captivated by the story, Harry refused to fall asleep. He had to know how it would end! Would they survive?! Would they overcome the Dragonarmies?! Would everyone reach their goals?!
"Come on! You can do it! Kill him! Kill him!" Harry cheered at the end, where the Heroes fought against the Evil Dragon Lord.
A slam against the door made him quickly shut up.
"Shut up, you little freak!" the grumpy, drowsy voice of his cousin said, before his footsteps retreated heavily into his own room again.
He looked at the clock.
5am.
He had been reading all night!
The next week flew by, lost in a work of words and imagination. And only his aunt's staccato rapping on the door broke him out if it long enough that he remembered to eat -never mind going to school.
For all that he made a point to do all of his homework, and study well for his tests. He was too proud of his newfound academic skills to allow it to go to waste.
But this book series had him captivated in ways no other books before it had. And he loved it!
And once he'd read it, he read it again. And again. And again.
"Hope is the denial of reality. It is the carrot dangled before the draft horse to keep him plodding along in a vain attempt to reach it." Raistlin spoke, his voice bitter and cynical.
"Are you saying we shouldn't hope?" Tanis asked, a skeptical look on his half-elven face.
"I'm saying we should remove the carrot and walk forward with our eyes open!"
He turned another page.
"Well! I had the most fantastic dream! Trees crying blood. Horrible dead elves going around and killing people! Raistlin wearing black robes! It was the most incredible thing! And you were there, Sturm. Laurana and Flint. And everyone died! Well, almost everyone. Raistlin didn't. And there was a green dragon-'
Tasslehoff stopped. What was wrong with his friends? Their faces were pale, their eyes wide."
Another page. A twinge of anticipation.
"Remove your hands, brother!" Raistlin said in a flat, soft whisper.
"I'll see you in the Abyss!" Caramon growled.
"I said remove your hands!" There was a flash of blue light, a crackle and a sizzling sound, Caramon screamed in pain, loosening his hold as jarring, paralyzing shock surged through his body.
More pages turned as Harry grasped the book, a frantic look on his face.
"I am what I have made myself. In a world where most are ignorant peasants, I have made myself a warrior. I take what I can and give when I like. I don't need you, dragon. I don't need anyone!" Kitiara said, her head held high against the mighty dragon Lord.
The mighty dragon had made powerful men and great warriors alike tremble in their boots and flee from his presence. Had she been a normal human he would have incinerated her for her insolence!
And yet... And yet...
He couldn't deny his curiosity for this weak, puny human who dared to stand up to him, when no one else would.
Again.
'Tanis listens to his feelings. He does not suppress them, as does the knight, or hide them, as does the plainsman. Tanis realizes that sometimes a leader must work with his heart and not his head. Raistlin glanced at her. 'Remember that.'
And again.
"You think you know my brother, Caramon said, talking silently to a line of faces. You, Master Theobald, and you, John Farnish, and you, Sturm Brightblade, and all the rest of you. You call him 'Sly' and 'Sneak.' You say he's cold and calculating and unfeeling. You think you know him. I know him. Caramon's eyes filled with tears. I know him. I'm the only one.'
And yet again.
'Oh I don't know about that,' disagreed Caramon with a broad grin. 'If they let Tas improvise with his hoopak, he'd stand a fighting chance.'
Harry couldn't help but marvel at the wonderful people in the books, and all their useful and amazing skills! Why! The kender could take on a whole pack of trained Knights with nothing but a stick!
Tasslehoff was absolutely fearless -literately, as Kenders felt no fear-, and Harry envied that.
Tas also loved jokes and pranks, although he had no concept of 'mine' and 'yours'. And he had very quick, clever fingers that always found their way into other people's pockets! But he always gave back the things he stole when they asked him for it. And he was full of tricks that made up for his small size in any fight. It was impossible not to like him!
Goldmoon, on the other hand, was often scared. But she held a silent strength, and a warm, glowing love and respect for all life, -and for her lover- that got her through every danger and problem that came her way. Although the plainsman's strong sword-arm saved her life more than once, when she refused to harm another to defend herself.
As for Tanis... Their half-elf leader, who wore the heavy burden of his torn heart stoically, never complaining. Always silent and contemplating, his wise counsel and skillful judgment had many a time saved the day.
Torn between his two natures, and the two women he loved, he did his best to live up to the expectations of everyone, while still staying true to himself... The very epitome of a tragic hero.
And then there was Raistlin! Whos Magical Powers was great enough to challenge even the gods, and whose ambitions rose to that of becoming one himself!
Sly and cunning, the mage had saved himself and the party many, many times. Even without magic, he knew how to read a person, and what to say to trick or impact them. His insight into the human mind was so keen that even the Wise Tanis often sought him out for advice.
He was strong, for all that he was cynical and sarcastic, and tended to drive most people away. Although the few that were strong and desired to be stronger often sought him out.
Then there was his opposite; his cheerful twin, Caramon. Whom were as different from Raistlin as Day was to Night!
This brave and confident Warrior was a mountain of loyalty and trustworthiness, and more than a little naive. In a battle he trusted his sword and his strength. Outside battle he joyfully rushed to the side of his physically weaker brother -whether said brother wanted his help or not. And to anyone else whom might need his help.
Always a kind word to everyone. Always cheerful. Albeit a bit lacking in the intelligence department, but that was okay. You didn't need a brain to be everyone's best friend!
Then there was the stoic and chivalrous knight, Sturm. Whom was as heroic as any knight in any storybook he'd ever read before!
"My honor is my life," he said... and he meant it!
And then there was Kitiara... The twin's older sister, who had raised the brothers practically by herself -despite her loathing of motherhood and all that came with it.
She was a vicious warrior who'd taught Caramon how to wield a sword when she was barely a teenager herself, and Caramon but a small child.
Never settling for second best, she aimed for nothing less than to conquer the world and lay it under her well-shaped foot.
AND she rode a great blue Dragon, non the less! That was perhaps the most amazing thing of all!
"Preparing for the Dragon Army to rush ahead and burn the ship down, she saw on the deck the brother she had once taught to use a sword, and raised in place of their absent mother. He was strong now, and his sword was sharp and not made of wood.
Yet where he went, so his her baby brother, the sickly mage. She always said her first battle had been with Death, for Raistlin's soul.
She hesitated for a mere second, her heart aching for the twins whom she loved dearly. And then it was gone. And she hardened her heart and gave the order.
"Charge! Bring me the Emerald Heart! Kill the rest!"
He had to admit she wasn't exactly very helpful to the heroes. Or even nice. And she tried to kill the group time and time again...
But he supposed that was what she had to do -working for the big bad guy and all that -at least up until she killed her boss and took his place as the Leader of the Dragon Army.
But she was amazingly strong! He bet no one dared to bully her!
Harry smiled as he pulled the new book he'd borrowed from the library out of his bag.
As it turned out, there weren't just the six main books... There was a whole series of side-books!
Each portraying the adventures of a different character.
And Harry was intent on reading them ALL!
Harry's wide grin could melt ice cream better than the hot September sun as he exited the classroom after the return of his very first test.
The summer was not yet over, but it was steadily going towards autumn, and the long, hot days of summer when he could spend all his time in the library, or practicing his skills were long gone.
He took one last lingering look at the amazing "8+" sparkling across the front of his test, before putting it away in his trusty backpack.
The teacher had held him behind after class, accusing him of cheating on the test. Which had, granted, soured his mood a little.
But Harry had quickly told her to quiz him on the topic, and then proceeded to answer everything correctly, which meant she had no choice but to let the high grade stand!
It felt better than he'd expected, knowing he wasn't as stupid as his family tried to tell him he was. Even if he worried a bit about their reaction, should they ever receive his grades from the school and actually look at them.
He had also asked the teacher what more he could do to improve his grades -much to her surprise. He'd been an underachiever thanks to the punishment his family was sure to give him, should he ever score higher than the brain-dead tub of lard. But he felt that with the newfound fear they had for him, they might actually leave him alone this time.
The teacher -however suspicious- had promptly, if sternly, given him a few pointers on what she wanted to see in her class. Including a few tentative hints that a good education might save him from a life in prison -where she clearly felt he had been heading before all this. No doubt thanks to the rumors his aunt had spread, and his looks certainty didn't help that impression either.
His grades were going up -he might even be able to go to a good college like Oxford or Cambridge-, and his family was leaving him alone and keeping him fed and living in a real room.
All in all, he felt like this year was already looking better than the entire rest of his life!
Just as he approached the front doors to exit the school, he spotted his fat cousin and the true delinquents of Little Wiggling casually hanging out in front of the building, casually chatting and occasionally glancing towards the doors.
He quickly slipped back around a corner and calmed himself. He was grateful the doors were reflective from the outside, which might have helped to hide him from their view.
He still felt his little heart beat like a rabbit's.
Ever since that incident that had landed him on the school roof nearly a month ago, he'd known this was coming.
There was no way the big troll of a boy that called himself Malcom was going to just let him go after what happened last time! He was not a troll...boy... that let his victims escape that easy!
Harry swallowed hard and tried to calm the cold stab to his guts as he peered around the corner again.
They were still there! Long after school had ended!
And that meant they were waiting for him. And would wait until doomsday, just to get him!
If not today, then tomorrow.
Harry took a deep breath.
'Calm down. You can do this. You've practiced for a whole bloody month for this moment. You know exactly what to do, and how to do this. You got this!'
Those fantasy books had turned out to do what no amount of occult books seemed to do; Inspire him to experiment and figure out things he'd never even thought was possible before!
And in the process, gain valuable skills to use in any situation.
He was prepared for this.
It had taken him nearly a full month of hard work and daily practice -and several books he borrowed from the library-, but he had managed it! He would deal with this exactly like his idol would have!
His idol...
.
.
...Raistlin, the Sly and Cunning Mage. Who's ambitions and strong will gained him unprecedented control and magic power! Enough power to challenge the gods... at the cost of his own health and well-being.
...Caramon, the Brave and Loyal Warrior. Who's jovial and friendly nature more than made up for his naivety, low intelligence and trusting nature. A bit of a brute, but one that would protect his friends with everything he got, and who's strong and trusty sword-arm always won the day in battle.
...Goldmoon the Kind and Gentle Healer. Who's big heart and forgiving nature were only surpassed by the love she held for her beloved Guardian -whom protected her from the cruelty of a world she was too kind to protect herself from.
...Tanis, their Wise and Empathetic leader. Who's responsible and self-sacrificing ways made him the epitome of a tragic hero. A true Hero.
...Tasslehoff, the Quick-Witted, fun-loving kender. Who's curious nature and clever fingers got him into just as much trouble as it got him out. And who's cheerful and innocent nature made him impossible not to love.
...Sturm, the Brave and Honorable Knight. Who's dexterous sword and gallant chivalry won the day every time, even at the risk of his own life. Even if he was a bit stuck-up and inflexible.
...Kitiara, the Powerful and Cunning Dragon Rider, and the true Villain of the books. Fierce as a dragon in Battle, and with ambitions were only surpassed by her half-brother, Raistlin. Her quick wit, sharp tongue, and willingness to use anything -even her own body- to improve her standing in life, made her rise to the very heights of Power... and closer to her dreams of World Domination!
*In case it wasn't blatantly obvious, I made Malcome a victim of domestic abuse, which he overcomes by picking on others. It's THE most common cause for any kid to bully others, so I figured at least one of them had to have it. And Malcom looks like the most vicious from what I can see -not that we REALLY know anything about Dudley's gang.
Oh, and for those unfamiliar with psychology; He's projecting what his father clearly did and said to HIM. Also common. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.
EDIT:
I realized I forgot to add the Vote count for this chapter. My apologies.
These are the Votes you readers made for the last chapter -that impacted how this chapter turned out.
1: IIIII II
2: IIIII IIIII IIIII II
3: III
A:
B: IIIII IIIII IIIII I
C: IIIII IIIII I
...WHY his family was so mean to him, and why the librarian was so nice! Why did people to the things they did? And was there any way to make them be nicer to him? And what was that about people controlling other people? The psychology book would surely be the best choice!
...WHAT was that strange Power he had? Matilda called it her 'Powers', but Matilda wasn't real, he knew that now. The librarian thought it might be something she called 'Magic', even if she didn't seem to believe he could do what he said. But what was it really? And how could he learn to control it? He'd read enough books to know not ALL of them were real... but he was sure there was SOME books that were! And therefore he decided upon the most promising of the Occult books!
...HOW could he make his family love him? Or was it too late? But it was all he'd ever wanted... He knew his aunt kept bragging of her third cousin twice removed that was a Scientist of some kind. And if he studied to become a Scientist himself, then surely his aunt and uncle would love him...Right? And even if they didn't, he was pretty sure it was a very great and important thing, to be a scientist. And he wouldn't need his aunt and uncle at ALL if he was a super-awesome scientist! So there! Science it was!
...
A) ...borrowing a second book on the topic he had already chosen. It seemed smarter to learn a lot about one thing, than a little bit about many.
B) ...borrowing that book he'd seen about studying better. It would make school and study of other topics easier, and he was sure some of the more complicated books would be hard to read if he didn't know how. He'd most likely get better grades without even trying as well, if he knew how to study smart.
C) ...borrow the book about how to survive out in the woods. So that maybe one day, he could leave the Dursley's and go live with Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and all the talking animals. Just in case.