Lowly Beginnings

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter et al. belongs to JK Rowling

-

AN: I thought I'd post the first two chapters together since I got them both written. Please read and review, and I promise I will respond to every review personally. Thank you for reading.

-

Chapter 2: Casualty of Society

'Hey Harry… whats up?' 'Hi Harry!' 'Heya Hazza!'

Multiple greetings were shot at Harry as he walked confidently down the school corridor on the Monday of a bright June day. At 17, Harry Potter stood straight if not tall; a meagre 5'6" made him possibly one of the smallest students in his year, if not the smallest… and that included most of the girls. He assumed it must have been malnutrition in his youth, but as he strode towards his locker at the end of the hall, with friendly shouts from his friends, Harry found it easy to put most of his past behind him…

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­-

He remembered being scared when, after months of legal work, with him being taken out of the care of his relatives and named a ward of the state, he stood up in the stands of the court. A small, scared, little boy. A lost little boy who just wanted this to be over. He remembered his Uncle glaring at him from the docks as Harry stuttered and stammered his way through his testimony; many members of the court seemed shocked and many appalled gasps and whispers were heard throughout as Harry told of being deprived of food for days on end; how he was forced to miss school and was instead taken by his Uncle to the streets to steal; how, when he failed, he was beaten harshly with objects such as belts or sticks as well as his Uncles bare hands and was then thrown into the cupboard under the stairs which acted as his bedroom.

The most traumatising part for Harry was being told to lift up his shirt to show the faint scars that littered his back, and the corresponding photographs that were projected up on the screen of his wounds when they were fresh when he was arrested. Harry has blushed in shame and looked down. Although the scars would eventually heal and fade into flawless lightly tanned skin, nothing would ever change how he had suffered; physically and mentally.

For support he had sought out the eyes of Paul who was sitting on the witness bench. Paul's fingers were gently entwined with the other police officer who had been there upon his arrest who Harry had learnt was called Jake over the previous months. In the period before his trial Paul and Jake had provided a sound support base for Harry whilst they compiled evidence against Vernon and a defence for charges of pick-pocketing and stealing to be dropped against Harry.

Harry had come to realise during times when he had walked in on Paul and Jake lightly touching each other, or holding hands, or kissing each other, that they were in love. Harry may not have experienced love himself but that gave him the advantage of being very adept at seeing it in others, and what he saw between Jake and Paul was nothing short of True Love. Despite having lived in a rough, un-accepting community, Harry had no qualms about homo-sexuality- he recognised love, and love was love no matter between who or what; gender, nationality or age. In that respect, Harry was very mature, but in other ways he was still seriously deprived; whilst admiring their relationship, Harry never saw himself as being capable of having that sort of relationship, and he still had many self doubts and his self esteem was shamefully low. After spending a whole life of being ignored, it came to a shock when the judge called for Harry's attention,

'Mister Potter. Ahem,' The judge cleared his throat, 'Mr Potter, if you would mind stepping down from the witness box, the jury would like to make it's verdict.'

From the bench of jurors, the head juror stood up, and glanced down the bench at his fellow jurors to confirm their decision and they all nodded decisively. He coughed lightly, and faced Vernon and Petunia who were standing as the accused,

'Mr Vernon Dursley. For neglect, physical abuse, and conspiring in theft, we find you…' The juror paused. He looked at Harry and gave him the tiniest of winks. '… GUILTY.'

What Harry didn't expect was the standing ovation this verdict evoked from the members of the court. The juror signalled for the clapping to stop,

'Mrs Petunia Dursley. For the neglect, abuse and conspiracy in theft, we find you guilty also. You and you husband are sentenced to 10 years imprisonment, and you are to be released of all custody of your nephew, Harry James Potter.'

Harry didn't know what to think; whilst he felt irrationally and sub-consciously guilty that it was his fault, he couldn't help but he relieved that he was finally free. However, the judge stood up again,

'Whilst I am glad for the jury to have reached that verdict, I am afraid it is my duty to uphold the law. Because of your status as a minor, you cannot receive a jail sentence, and therefore it is with my utmost condolences that I must sentence you to two years attendance to St. Brutus's Juvenile Detention Centre for Criminal Boys.'

Harry never saw Paul or Jake again…

-

Typical school noises brought 17 year old Harry Potter back to reality as he swung his school bag off his back, and entered the combination for his locker. As he swung it open, Harry's messy, choppily cut, punk-skater style hair fell in his eyes. Since Juvenile, he had begun to develop his style until he resembled a cool looking punk; he wore baggy black trousers that covered his Converse shoes, and a black belt with silver spiked studs. His T-shirt was exceptionally bright green with the Nirvana 'Smiley Face' depicted on it to reflect his personality and match his still childishly large green eyes that were framed with femininely long dark lashes. Of course, most of Harry's facial features were quite feminine and whilst it would sometimes annoy him, it didn't make any less people have crushes on him. If anything, it attracted both girls and boys to him, and he was known within the school as not minding which gender he would date; of course, he was also known as never accepting a single offer of a date from anyone. The most desired, yet most unattainable person in the school. To top off his outfit for that day, he had on his arms a coupe of black bracelets and wrist bands, similar to ones his favourite punk rock bands would wear. His outfit was unusual compared to the majority of the richer people that went to his school, but it looked stylish on Harry's small frame and he didn't look at all Goth despite the black he was wearing, although this was mainly due to the bright T-shirt and his own large white smile.

Harry pulled out his planner, and dumped it in his locker, before removing a packet of Lambert Butler Menthol cigarettes. Harry didn't smoke often, and these cigarettes didn't smell or taste as bad as regular ones, and Harry found the occasional cigarette was therapeutic when stressed. He had picked up the habit in St. Brutus's, but now could make a pack of 20 last nearly a week, although he had every intention of giving up fully soon… as soon as he got the motivation. As Harry emptied the rest of his books from his bag into his locker, Harry considered that despite everything, he was very lucky; the detention centre, whilst not the most enjoyable place to spend your childhood years of 10-12, was actually a happy contrast for Harry. It was filled with some true criminals, but as a whole it was filled with people similar to Harry with unfortunate backgrounds and minor criminal records, and whilst at Juvenile, he had learnt many more new skills; despite what he had been told throughout his life, Harry was actually an incredibly intelligent boy… he was one of those people who is able to appear to be doing no work but still manages to get everything done perfectly. He also had taken more defence classes such as martial arts, and even when he left St. Brutus's he continued his interest in fighting skills… he had promised himself that day in court that he would never let anyone hurt him again. Ever. And with his petit stature, he was what most people would consider easy pickings. Of course, the people that did know him would firstly never pick a fight with him because they knew of his skill, and secondly, would never pick a fight as they would have no need to; Harry had developed into a friendly and thoughtful young man and because of his past experiences, seemed more perceptive and responsive to other people's emotions, although he did still tend to hold back a little on his own emotions: a belief that people may not care about his emotions that lingered still from what he termed his 'Dursley Days'.

In an attempt to try and make up for his lack of self-esteem- which was not particularly obvious to the casual observer or even close friends- Harry not only immersed himself in his studies that led him to be selected as the male valedictorian –one of his best friends, Hermione Granger was selected as the female candidate- but he took up multiple sports, and played on the school teams for football (soccer), basketball, and Tennis as well as being keen on swimming and gymnastics. Other extra curricular activities included art, drama, music and singing, which Harry enjoyed, although he joked he only did them to put something down on his University application: he planned on being a doctor which privately, everyone thought would be an excellent career for Harry that he would excel in due to his natural talent and abilities and his caring nature.

Because of Harry's multi-talents and happy attitude he became very popular amongst his peers at his present school when he started it aged 15, however it had not been easy. After leaving Juvenile at 12 years old, Harry had moved into an orphanage and entered a local school where he made good friends, before the orphanage decided to relocate to America. One of his English teachers who was familiar with the area he was moving to got in touch with the head teacher, Dumbledore, of the prestigious 'Hogwarts School' that was in the vicinity of the Orphanage's new location and arranged a meeting and test to decide on a scholarship; the Orphanage was unable to pay for his school fees any other way. He still remembered the reaction he got when he arrived on a Wednesday morning in sunny California…

-

Harry, having just turned 15, walked down the hallway for the first time in his usual attire, after just having taken all the necessary tests required for him to apply for a scholarship, and all conversation around him stopped. People spoke to each other, not bothering to keep their voice down, including both fact and fiction in the conversation, as they stood by their lockers, the majority glaring at him,

'Yes, that's right, Harry Potter, yes, Potter. So common. Father would be appalled if he knew what they were accepting for scholarships here now.'

'I know Cynthia! I heard he's got a criminal record and he got expelled from his old school and extradited from England!'

'Didn't you know? He's that British kid- kinda small isn't he?

'Kinda HOT isn't he?'

'Look how he's dressed. I hear he's at the orphanage… and he's dead poor- that's why he's applying for the scholarship.

Harry had held his head high; he wouldn't let their taunting get to him. He knew he had just as much right to be here as all these- these- these snobs did! Just because he didn't have their money. One pug faced girl in a cheerleader outfit- Harry assumed she was one of the nasty unpopular-popular girls that American films depicted- stepped in front of Harry's path. She stood about Harry's height and she pointed a finger in his face.

'You don't belong here. Go back to Juvenile where you belong!' she hissed maliciously in his face

Harry was a split second from letting her hear exactly what he thought of her and her suggestion, although it was probable that the volume he would have told her it in would probably mean that most people within a 3 mile radius would also have heard which wouldn't bode well for his future prospects at the school when an attractive girl with voluminous brown hair cut in,

'Oh, SHUT UP Parkinson. Nobody wants to hear what you have to say. It's his first day here and from what I hear, he's a lot smarter than you'll ever be. And he's certainly better mannered if he managed to ignore all you lot!' She stepped forward accompanied by a tall red headed boy who had his hand around her waist. They were backed up by another group of people, and she held out her hand which Harry shook. 'Hello, Harry Potter Right? I'm Hermione Granger, and this is my boyfriend, Ron Weasley. Oh, and that lot behind is the gang, you know, Dean, Neville, Seamus, and all.'

'Excuse me? Is there a problem here?' The placid voice of the head teacher came from behind them.

'No, Professor Dumbledore. We were just introducing ourselves.' Explained Hermione whilst Pansy Parkinson just slinked away defeated.

'Well, I need a minute to welcome Mr Potter here…you are now officially a member of one of the most prestigious schools in America, on a full scholarship, and I hope with you skills and abilities you can contribute to this fine institute. Your test scores were just processed and they were exceptional. Congratulations… perhaps Miss Granger here can escort you to your first class. Miss Granger?' said Dumbledore as his eyes twinkled knowingly.

Hermione smiled at Harry, and he met her eyes. She pulled him away with Ron and the rest of the group towards Chemistry and from that moment on, they were all best of friends…

-

It was now nearly two years later on from that day and Harry was once again in the corridor just 2 weeks away from the end of school before they all would graduate aged 17 or 18 and take their summer holidays before entering their University of choice. Harry sighed as Ron Weasley came up to him and slapped him on the back,

'Come on dude, we should get going to Art History now or we'll be late. Unless you want to cut class for today… you know, I have no idea why you even take Art History- you do enough subjects and stuff as it is. And anyway, we've taken all the exams now… this is just gonna be a- what did Mr Binns call it? Oh yeah, a 'fun' lesson. Yippee!' Ron said sarcastically.

'Nah, let's go to the lesson. Dumbledore would have our heads if he caught us skipping… again.' Harry grinned.

'Too true,' agreed Ron as they made their way towards the classroom, already 5 minutes later. 'So, looking forward to the Summer?'

'Kind of- I'm turning 18 soon so I need to leave the orphanage so I won't be able to stay there over the Summer… I don't have any money and all you lot are going away on holiday. I guess I'll just get a job and rent a place.' Harry groaned. 'Damn it!' he added… it was a common pretence amongst their group that Harry was very lazy, although he was in fact a dedicated worker when he put his mind to it.

'Well, Harry… I know it's hard. I do really wish you could come with us, or at least stay at our house without us, but you know how it is…the house is getting repainted, and some of us have all the hardships- I mean, jet setting all over Europe isn't as easy as it looks y'know. Of course, you being a cool Brit probably know all that.' Ron joked.

Ron knew how hard life was for Harry as Harry had shared his past with his friends instead of hiding it, and Ron knew it was going to be difficult for Harry over the summer where he would be basically alone. Well, Ron thought, I'll try offer Harry some money so at least he can stay somewhere nice until we all go to University… thankfully it's accommodate boarding. On the other hand, Harry probably won't take my money, but at least if Harry does work all Summer for his board and upkeep, it should keep him busy, occupied and socialised. Ron knew Harry almost as well as Harry knew himself despite just 2 years of knowing each other, and he knew that despite outward appearances, Harry was quite insecure and he didn't like being alone.

'You know what Harry, it'll be okay. It'll all work out… just get a job, rent a flat, and go out and have a good time! You know what?' Ron suddenly exclaimed. 'You need a girlfriend or a boyfriend, whatever takes your fancy, and then you can move in with them. I mean, it'll be me and Hermione- 'Hermione and I' Harry corrected in a good impersonation of his other best friend, which Ron promptly ignored- and of course, you and your date! Problem solved! Man, I'm a genius'

Harry roared with laughter; if there was one thing Ron loved about Harry it was his laugh. It was free and unrestrained, raucous and bold, and coming from such a small person, it was certainly astounding.

'You know what Ron, I think I can probably do without a girlfriend or whatever at the moment-' Harry snickered as he pushed open the door to the Art Classroom, looking at his watch, 'What time is it? Professor Binns is going to blow his nut!'

'Actually,' came an amused voice that was very different to the usual droning tone of Professor Binns, 'I am going to blow my nut. Welcome to Art History… You're late.'

-

AN: Hope you enjoyed and I should get chapter 3 out soon.

-