Freak.
That was what his aunt and uncle had called him.
It was his first name.
His own name. Something that belongs to him.
He was happy and glad that he finally had something to call his own.
He took pride in it.
I am Freak!
That was Harry's reaction to the first time his relatives called him by his new name when he was four.
He doesn't have much if anything that belongs to him.
He had his own room. Under the stairs. A tiny cupboard he can call his own.
He had his ragged blanket with the initials H.P. sewn into it. He likes to wrap himself in his blanket when he goes to sleep.
Now he has something he can call himself by.
He doesn't know what it means.
But, his uncle likes to scream 'Freak!' at him when he wanted something.
His aunt likes to sneer at him when she calls him "Freak".
On his first day at school, the teacher was calling everyone's name.
I was waiting for my own.
It never came.
The teacher called out if there was a Harry Potter in the room.
Looking expectantly at me, she asked what my name is.
"Freak!" I had told her proudly. "My name is Freak!"
His cousin, Duddiekins, was sniggering at the side.
The teacher frowned at him before looking at the student roster again.
"It says here; your name is Harry Potter." She looked at Freak doubtfully. "Freak isn't a name."
"Oh. I didn't know that." Freak, now named Harry, mumbled as he looked at his feet.
"Please let your guardians know that I want to speak to them when they are free." The teacher said kindly.
The teacher was dismissed a week later.
"I wonder what Freak means." Harry wondered.
He was able to look up the word 'Freak' in a dictionary during break time.
"- a thing, person, animal, or event that is extremely unusual or unlikely, and not like any other of its type" Harry read.
"not like any other of its type" he repeated.
"Wow!" Harry stared at the dictionary. "That means I am special!"
Harry was proud of his old name 'Freak'.
It means a lot to him, being one of the few things he had. He didn't want to throw it away just because he had a new name 'Harry'.
There was a lot of Harrys out there. He's never heard someone else called Freak.
Over the years, Harry had clung to his name 'Freak', although he's learnt not to say it aloud.
Teachers tend to get upset when he uses the word. So he liked to remind himself that he was 'Freak' when he was alone.
Whenever something strange happens around him, like his teacher's hair turning blue, clothes shrinking as he was forced into them, and his hair growing back overnight, he liked to go back into his cupboard and laugh to himself.
He was a freak. It must be his special powers at work! No one else is like him. He was proud of that.
A week before his eleventh birthday. The mail came.
When he picked up the mail, he found one addressed to his cupboard and had his normal name "Mr. Harry Potter" scrawled tidily on the front of the brownish paper.
He handed the mail to his uncle, before sitting down and opened his own mail.
His aunt and uncle gave him strange looks.
Ignoring them, Harry quickly read through his first ever mail.
"Um, uncle Vernon… this letter says that I have been admitted into Hogwarts, a school for wizards?" Harry asked hesitantly.
His aunt and uncle gave great sighs of relief. The past few years had been a headache for them. Their name calling and constant put down of their freakish nephew did not seem to faze him at all. In fact, he looked delighted whenever they called him a freak.
They were worried that he wasn't just a freak that can do freakish stuff. But, a crazy one! What if the other freaks don't want him back, and the freak had to stay with them. Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon had nightmares about that.
"Oh thank goodness," Petunia exclaimed before shuffling off into the kitchen.
"Why indeed, Petunia dear. We can finally be rid of the freak!" His uncle gave a big old grin as he stared at Harry nastily.
"Does that mean we don't have to see the freak anymore?" Dudley asked from the side.
"No. He gets to join the other freaks, and he won't be our problem anymore!" His uncle hollered.
His aunt and uncle went about their day in a good mood.
"Remember to write them a reply, and tell them to have someone pick you up for your freak stuff. Just leave the mail in the mailbox. You will be waiting outside when they come pick you up, and I don't want them coming into the house." His aunt Petunia reminded him.
Harry was left alone for the rest of the day.
Harry was not in a good mood.
No. He was feeling very dejected.
"Other freaks?" he muttered. Was he not special anymore? There were others out there like him, so he wasn't the only one of his kind?
Harry had taken solace in the fact that he was unique and no one else was like him. He could make strange stuff happen around him.
Does that mean he's just a plain old Harry?
He was nothing special. Just one of many freaks.
Locked in his own thoughts, Harry went about his chores after writing a reply to the letter and leaving it in the mailbox.
A few days later, Harry was standing in front of his aunt's well-manicured lawn, courtesy of the long hours Harry had put in.
He was waiting for one of the freaks to pick him up.
After a short wait, he heard something at the end of the street. A large motorcycle was making its way down the street. On the motorcycle, there was an even larger man.
The motorcycle pulled up next to Harry.
"Is that ye', Harry?" The giant man boomed.
Is this one of the freaks? Is he a freak because of his large size? The man was larger than anyone he had ever seen. He had towered over Harry, even when he was seated on the bike.
He was gigantic!
The letter mentioned wizards, so does that mean he was a freak because he can do strange things as well?
Harry stared at the man in shock.
"Hullo? Ye' there boy?" the giant asked again.
"Oh, um. Sorry, sir! That's right. I'm Harry." Harry blushed. "Are you a wizard?" Harry asked the giant man. He didn't want to offend him by asking if he was a freak as well. Most people did when he asked them.
"Oh yes, Harry! I am a wizard. You too! Yer a wizard, Harry!" The giant man chuckled as he scratched his scraggly beard. "I'm 'ere to pick ye up and go to Diagon Alley for your school supplies. Well, come on then, get in the side car. Best we hurry."
