Chapter 2
It has been two weeks since the six year old was thrown out. He had just walked out from class, having made sure he could still go to school. He had placed a charm to make the orphanage manager, Mr. Bridgestone overlook the fact that he did not cross him off the school list and the government still paid for his studies. The government paid close attention to his studies and so he couldn't just disappear.
His martial arts classes would pay dividends rights not. He'd been taking them the whole school year and excelling at that too. His sensei was so impressed with his progress that he put him with older kids. He didn't need to know Harry used magic to improve his speed and strength by infusing his muscles with it. He had learned some months ago that he could control his magic to a greater extent than just doing spells. He could make it manifest itself into physical constructs like a wisp around his hand. The more he controlled it the easier it became to do so. Now he could mold his magic to form strings and weapons. The strings could latch onto something and control it, they can also slice solid objects. He was now working on using his magic to inscribe runes and seals.
Harry walked deeper into the slums and to an abandoned building where he lived for the past two weeks. Although he loved the solitude, he still needed money to survive. So far he had been discreetly stealing money from people, pickpocketing, but he would need more is he wants to continue with other activities he wanted to pursue.
So, a month later he sought out Malcom 'Killmonger' Polkiss, a man whose self-assigned name was whispered in the slums with mock and laughter. The guy was apparently a lone criminal that usually robbed small shops and sometimes did breaking and entering. He was nothing special. Even so, Harry wanted him to teach him how to do those things so he could get some money.
He found the man in a rundown apartment at the outskirts of London CBD, drinking himself silly. Harry scrunched up his nose at the offending smell, unimpressed. Malcom staggered to a stand. "Who 'e fick er you?" he slurred, fumbling for his knife. Harry stared blankly as he answered "Hadrian. You are Malcom Polkiss, aren't you?" "What's it te you?" "I want to join you as your apprentice and partner. That way you can teach me all you…unconventional skills." The man looked confused. "Wha…?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Teach me how to be a thief." Malcom looked blankly at him for a few minutes before it dawned on him what the kid meant and the advantages it would bring for him.
It was only the next day, when he was sober, that Malcom realized that a six year old boy approached him. He was reluctant at first but soon warmed up to the idea of a child slave thieving for him and taught the boy everything he knew. It soon occurred to Harry that Malcom was more knowledgeable than he seemed, just plagued by a stream of bad luck it seemed. In no time at all Harry knew how to picklock without magic, learnt stealth, knew how to wield a gun, tortured a few people (under a glamour), learnt the art of hacking and had his first kill (to Malcom at least). The man was amazed by Harry's learning capabilities and detachment to the crimes he committed but he wasn't one to complain. The large amount of money they got from stealing in larger shops and sometimes even banks inconspicuously could not be denied.
Eight year old Harry sat in the ninth grade math class. Many people would wonder how a he progressed so fast but never got an answer except that he had a high IQ level. Absorbing the school material wasn't a problem for him.
He was currently thinking of the heist Malcom set up for today. They were to rob the Royal jewelry store tonight. Harry just knew they were going to get caught. That place was tighter than oyster shell, employing a dozen trained guards, top notch security and cameras at every corner. It was suicide. With magic it could have been easy but Malcom, the idiot, wanted to come with him and couldn't be persuaded otherwise. This was an unusual turn of events as he was always let to go alone if he insisted, but this time it wasn't the case.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. It was a good thing he guessed. Sure, he loved the thrill of an illegal life, but he was beginning to get bored with Malcom. The guy did nothing but plan robberies and complain when his own plans failed. He had to murder a lot of people because of his impatience. He thought himself invincible now that he was more successful, but without Harry he was nothing.
The final bell rang and Harry slowly packed and made his way out. His only regret in this whole debacle was that he never really got to see the wizarding world. Sure, he knew a lot about magic but he could have learnt more there. More books, more knowledge. For now he would make due with what he had.
Malcom parked the car next to him and rolled the window. "Hey Harry. Excited for our heist?" Subtlety did not exist in Malcom's dictionary. A wonder he survived this long. Harry did not respond, just got into the passanger seat. They drove to Malcom's new apartment. Once settled, the older male took out a bottle of white wine and two glasses. "Let's toast to our biggest job." He said with a wide smile. Harry smirked. "Toast to our biggest failure." "Don't be like that, kid." To this day Malcom did not bother learning his name. He took a large swig from the glass. Harry took small sips. "Malcom, you know this is suicide." Malcom waved him off and proceeded to drain the glass.
Harry fiddled with the handgun in its holster. He made sure he also had the three diggers and fove throwing knives he always carried on his person. In an hour, they would be at the site of their capture. Malcome was loading his shotgun and grinning like a loon.
An hour later Harry was hacking the electronic lock. The small laptop he was using was running numbers and figures. With a bit of magic the lock opened. He motioned Malcom to enter. Masks on, they slowly walked into the building. The guards were currently at the back changing shifts. Harry moved around, locking doors to the main sales room and register, while Malcom collected the prized jewelry. With a freeze charm Harry blinded the cameras. Five minutes later alarms blared to life. Exit doors automatically locked.
Harry cursed under his breath as Malcom continued to fill his bag. "Shut that thing up!" he demanded, shouldering the bag. The locked inner doors were broken down. Malcom panicked and ran for the closest backroom door. He made it out just in the last minute, leaving Harry surrounded. Cursing again, Harry drew his gun and fired off at the guy to his left in the head. He used the following confusion to speedily run to the one behind him. He shot him in the kneecap, causing him to fall, but Harry held him up in a sitting position for cover. He let loose to the one in front of him in the heart, followed by a few rounds to his right. Once all seven were down, he shot his hostage in the head.
In the backrooms he heard gunshots too. Harry could hear the police sirens outside. He ran for the exit only to find it locked. "Alohomora!" the door clicked open but it was too late. Just outside he came face to face with multiple police, all with guns aimed at him. "Put your hands up in the air!" With an irritated scowl he raised up his hands, gun and all. "Drop all your weapons in front of you!" He dropped the gun then proceeded to slowly throw down his knives one by one. "Turn to face the wall with your hands behind you head!" was the instruction once he was done. He did so.
Seconds later a police officer roughly tied his hands behind his back in handcuffs. He then took off his mask and gasped. "It's just a kid!" he exclaimed. Harry chuckled, thoroughly amused by his shocked face. Nevertheless, he was soon shoved in a police van and carted off to the main station. He was put inside an interrogation room and left to his own devices. He knew they were watching him though.
About an hour later, the door opened letting in a hulking man. Harry watched him sit down as he stared blankly, trying to intimidate Harry. The raven just raised an eyebrow and waited patiently. The man finally spoke, paging a large document. "You are Hadrian James Potter. A prodigy in everything you try; academics, karate, arts and crafts, debates, etc." he then looked Harry in the eye as if baffled. "Why would you waste your life on crime? Why join in these activities?" Harry shrugged. "Because I want to."
The man now definitely looked baffled. Harry smirked. "Are you serious?" "Yep." He didn't believe him. Harry leaned back, toying with his cuffs on the plain desk. "Dead serious. But if you want a sob story I'll give you one. When I was six I got thrown out of the orphanage I lived in. Mr. Bridgestone thought I was some troublemaker even before that. I went and lived on the streets, begging for scrapes and money. My partner approached me and trained me to become what I am." He leaned onto the desk to stare the interrogator in the eye. "I am what I am because no one helped me. Perhaps if you did your job and regularly checked in the orphanages you would have realized one child was missing. Perhaps I could have been the perfect example of an upstanding citizen."
The man looked like he had swallowed a lemon whole. Harry almost laughed. Guilt worked like a charm on the weak minded. The guy was doubting himself. He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid that isn't MY job." Harry scoffed. "But still, you are guilty of your crimes and will be tried. In the meanwhile, tell me about your partner. Where did he go?" Harry relaxed into his chair and shrugged. "I don't know. We weren't really close." The police officer looked contemplative. "Nothing?" "Nope. But I'll give you a hint. Malcom Polkiss is a wimp, cries 'mommy' at any sign of trouble. Loves his old woman too. He's probably at his ma's place showering her with those stuff we stole and asking for protection at the same time. Riff 'Raff's Building 4th Avenue, outskirts of London, north exit." He said all of this with a straight face. The police raised both eyebrows. "For a hint, that's quite specific." Harry shrugged again. "Of course he could be at his cousin's place at Lawyer's Inc. Building, the pent house Samuel owns there. Don't know. Just a suggestion."
There was silence for a while and then the man up and left. An hour later he was taken to a holding cell. A week later he was tried, found guilty theft and murder then finally sentenced to ten years in prison. Apparently, he thought like an adult so it was fine to at least treat him like one to some extent. The news was blaring with 'The prodigy is a criminal mastermind!'. The papers had a ball that week and the month following that. Harry was just content to sit in his cell, try to escape once in a while, until he was put in a high security cell at nine years old. He likes scarring his guards every now and then, too. All in all, quite boring.