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Chapter 2: Lessons
So, there was a child.
A child who could not grow up like the other children.
A child who had a secret only his father knew of.
Lessons were given to this special child every day.
Lessons of self control and containment of power. For this young body held within it an unbelievable power that had ever existed in the world of magic. A great and terrible power that was never spoken of outside of locked doors with only the pair inside. Places where uninvited ears could not stray.
When the little one was very young, it was only referred to as "The Bad Thing".
The father told the child that he contained the ability to destroy all and it was a bad thing. The father told the child that should he ever let this power out, his mother, his beloved mother, would receive great pain.
Fearing for his mother's safety, the child obeyed without question. Consequences for not paying attention to his father's every work of warning dealt harsh consequences upon the small form. The father left many marks of punishment in the name of protection and love.
The master who had given him this terrible gift, if one could call it that, fulfilled the prophecy set out before him and met a terrible end, or a terrible beginning, whichever way one perceived it. Lying in wait, the Dark Lord would not be able to rise again until the time was right. Until they were least expecting an attack, he could wait, meanwhile his hidden power would grow as the child did.
Emotion was the key to the power contained within the thin frame. All sections of the mind must be constantly kept in check, nothing too extreme being allowed to come to the surface.
An icy façade was the only defense offered to the youth. A picture of absolute control, that control beaten into him for as long as he had ever known life. It took many years of training.
For when the child was two years old, he saw some beautiful roses in a vase within his reach. When the thorns pricked a small drop of blood from his finger, the child screamed out in surprise from the pain. Even the father, being a great wizard, had a difficult time explaining to his wife how so much damage could be down to the entire side of the structure without the imprint of a spell left behind.
Grateful when the child got a little bit older, and more in control, the father awaited his master. Uncertainty welled up in the mind of the parent, for he had suspicions that stripping the boy of the power might be the death of him.
The child still grew and the Lord had yet to come to reclaim what was his.
The power also grew, grew beyond the imagination, trying to break down the mind of the one holding it at bay.
Years passed, and one day an owl was sent to the boy with a letter.
From Hogwarts.
The child attended the school for two years with nothing out of the ordinary happening.
It is upon his third year that we begin our tale.