Chapter 3

November 3, 1987

Early on a Tuesday morning along a winding dirt path set far from the road, the soul now inhabiting a seven year old Harry Potter roams on foot in the countryside towards London. In truth, the destination is arbitrary and almost any metropolitan area that offers anonymity from tenacious pursuers, muggle and wizard alike, will do.

Weak solitary figures like children are comparable to catnip in attracting sadistic, immoral individuals. Of course, one can't forget the overworked do-gooders seeking decent homes for unwanted children; the large cracks within this ineffective system regularly churns out physically and emotionally damaged persons. Then again the wizarding community isn't much better with sympathizers of Lord Voldemort actively seeking retribution against a young boy with the distinctive lightning bolt across his forehead. No surprise that any sane, well-informed runaway would avoid groups from either world.

Better still some could say that staying with the Dursleys offered fewer unknown variables and more manageable dangers especially considering age. Poppycock. Find one slave or indentured servant where their primary objective in life is not seeking freedom. And fortunately, maturity is not an issue; looks can be quite deceiving as Harry's new soul experienced a little more than 28 years of life.

The last nail in the coffin eradicating any chance of remaining with the Dursleys is an ever growing suspicion concerning Albus Dumbledore's plans for the boy-who-lived. As a freethinker prone to ruminating over other's actions and more importantly their motivations, I could never come to a decisive conclusion on whether the man's image as a paragon of virtue was real or merely a veneer.

By some odd fluke a lauded educator, having over half a century's worth of experience, fails to recognize the signs associated with child abuse? Or the puerile attempts to conceal it by an eleven year old? A man with no familial connection unilaterally decides on the guardianship over a one year old child and then forsakes the obligation as to that child's health and continued happiness?

Disquieting questions certainly don't end there, but the absence of clarity is enough.

Better to err on the side of caution and wholly disrupt his machinations starting with the questionable placement of living under the Dursleys. Considering the grand exit which occurred two days ago, it's definitely an auspicious beginning.

╳ Flashback Starts ╳

But first Vernon and Petunia Dursley will rue the day they ever thought child abuse acceptable.

No time to waste in planning their long overdue and just desserts.

"Hmm dessert, that's a fine place to start."

Unsurprisingly, inspiration springs from the strong tantalizing scent of fresh baked pie with cinnamon, brown sugar, and apples wafting into the cupboard. Proper planning certainly can't happen on an empty stomach so it's time to escape this dreary confine and relocate to the kitchen.

Hovering a palm slightly above the door, while simultaneously directing my magic to disengage its locking mechanism takes barely a second, but the cost is quickly felt. I brace myself against a wall when I'm suddenly overcome with lightheadedness. A flash of horror passes over my face from an earth-shattering epiphany. If magic requires properly fueling the body, then what happens when you ignore it? The severity of consequences started with hunger pains and lightheadedness. What's next: a coma or even death?

Flights of fancy to whimsically use magic go right out the window. Magic has a cost and it certainly appears to resemble the physics law, conservation of energy. Essentially energy can neither be created nor destroyed; rather, it can only be transformed or transferred from one form to another.

Note to self, there will be two golden rules. The first is using proper prudence to evaluate whether a problem can be resolved without magic. Then the second is hypervigilance to maintaining a healthy diet and ensuring a restful night's sleep.

Tempering the need for revenge with self preservation, I pause for a moment to confirm there's no sounds of movement on the other side of the cupboard door before exiting into the darkened hallway. With nary a sound or light shining in the kitchen, it's likely empty thus preventing any chance of confrontation while I'm at a serious disadvantage. Luck seems to be on my side, as it's empty. Across the room resting on a countertop beneath a glass dome dessert stand is apple pie. Hmm, proper breakfast later and dessert now.

The best ideas always appear while eating warm apple pie topped with cheddar cheese.

A few moments later, I'm slowly devouring a slice of pie and allowing my mind to wander. At Hogwarts, none of the characters in the books or movies were adversely affected when performing spellwork. The only notable exceptions were high-level complex spells used repeatedly after another. Spells often failed or backfired based on user error stemming from poor pronunciation or the wrong wand movements…

Of course, I'm not using a wand and most children acquire it at around eleven years of age. Perhaps, a wand allows for more efficient metering of magic with little waste whereas wandless magic is harder to regulate in direction and intensity which means some portion dissipates without ever fulfilling the desired action. In that case, it would require more power for the same act. So far this is a sound hypothesis; at some point, I'll have to test it later.

Regardless, one can wield magic without a wand even if it requires extreme care.

But how do I circumvent this limitation now?

One after another, ideas quickly pop-up before elimination seconds later. As the minutes pass with more nonstarters, frustration mounts in knowing that wandless magic should only be a last resort. Filtering through the Hogwarts curriculum again, I have a voilà moment in realizing that I previously overlooked the elective courses available starting in third year like Ancient Runes.

While I definitely don't know the actual runic alphabet or their meanings, this should allow an intermediate step in metering my magic. Plus, as witnessed before, I never used words or hand gestures. Instead, I relied on intent and concentration. Now whatever shall I use as my focus?

Glancing around the kitchen, my gaze lands upon a pen and paper.

On the first trial, I traced an image of the sun starting with a circle then four lines at each cardinal direction along with four additional lines between them though slightly shorter. The symbol represents light. Once finished, I place my pointer finger against the symbol and gently push magic into it. In the blink of an eye, a golden glow appears before the entire paper goes up in flame and I'm jerking back away from the intense heat. As the flame dies down, there's nothing left, but ash and the faint smell of smoke.

My eyes blink owlishly as I'm caught in a befuddled stupor.

Weary, but not inclined to stop, I continue with additional trials using a variety of mediums, symbols, emotions, and whatever else comes to mind. After more than a dozen or so trials, an odd pattern appears. Organic materials, derived from living things, tend to provide the desired result for longer intervals and without spontaneous combustion in comparison to their counterparts that were wholly or partially man-made. The pen's ink when powering a rune transformed it into a blackened engraving independent of the medium's surface. Soil displayed the most curious and helpful discovery in preserving the runic magic. Also using larger or more complex structures amplified the end result whether positive or negative.

Note to self on the third golden rule, applying runic magic to man-made materials is highly unstable and will likely result in explosive, catastrophic failure.

Sticking to renewable and readily available resources like plants, I quickly gather the bouquet of peach tea roses and relocate it from a vase over the sink to the kitchen table. While completing the mindless task of plucking petals, my gaze flickers every so often back to the apple pie. Not long after, a devious smile stretches across my face as I begin forming a plan to demoralize Vernon and Petunia.

With Vernon's strong resemblance to a whale, he definitely over indulges when it comes to food. Beyond Petunia's obvious enabling, as a housewife, she most likely takes great pride in her cooking abilities. As such a focal point in their ambitions and routine, there's no need to look at alternative targets. Spoiling their food will do nicely.

Twice a day, everyday at sunup and sundown every crumb or morsel that passes their threshold will spoil.

A seemingly obnoxious trifle, if systematically applied, can drive one to utter distraction.

Imagine waking up to the faint odor of spoiled food where it grows more horrid and revolting with each step closer to the kitchen. Newly purchased groceries and freshly made meals spoil with no rhyme or reason. Neither pantry, cabinet, nor countertop is safe. Careful disposal and vigorous cleaning with no lasting effect. Frequent cycles of buy, dispose, and repeat causes unexpected strain on a once healthy budget. No more spontaneous indulgences just before watching the nightly news.

Just a taste of things to come, but you get the idea.

Now the next step is to flesh out the implementation. My luck seems to be holding as each bloom had plenty of petals to divide the large pile into three subgroups: short-term, long-term, and reserve.

Those intended for short-term use have only one objective, subdue the Dursleys, and just in case there will be plenty of backups should the runic magic cut short ahead of schedule or the fools require additional leverage to fully grasp the message. In terms of the runic array, it will have two elements. The first is primarily intention based so forms of aggression will be met with either pain or a force-field capable of trapping heat and any consecutive events will escalate the previous effect. If the plan goes belly up, then the caster can trigger a rune using wandless magic to induce sleep. The runic array appears as a large 'I' (intent) with a sewing needle (pain) on the left and a rectangle on the right with a small fire below it (force-field oven). Then a dividing line separates the three symbols with a capital Z followed by two lower case z's (sleep).

It should be relatively easy to slip the petals into one of Petunia and Dudley's pockets, however, getting within close proximity to Vernon is asking for trouble. Instead petals will be strategically placed in a heptagon formation merely a foot from the kitchen and hallway door.

The long-term runic array responsible for food spoilage will be complex and unfortunately far more likely to fail. The trial and error experiments were not equipped to handle consistent usage over a six year period. Even with the added benefit of soil preserving the runic magic, there is no guarantee it will work as desired, but at this point I'll have to hope for the best. The array will appear as five symbols. A sun cut in half with the upper portion signifying sunup and the lower portion flipped across a perpendicular line will signify sundown. Below on the far left will be a drop of water (moisture) then a single flame (heat) followed by the mathematical graphic representation for radius. Typically food spoils due to bacteria and it thrives in environments where moisture plus heat are present. At sunrise and sunset, the rune will trigger moisture and heat, but only within a set radius in this case the entire house.

Not quite the first fancy over dessert, but close enough.

And last, but not least is the reserve group of petals which will be set aside and put to good use after I leave the Dursleys behind. I can't be wholly sure, but most cities are concrete jungles where plant life is hard to find and parks may not be conveniently located.

Finally, with pen and petal in hand, mere wishful thinking comes to fruition.

╳ Flashback Ends ╳

Even now thinking of Vernon and Petunia brings grim satisfaction. While the previous intimidation measures wore off, they're definitely experiencing the delights of food spoilage. A fond chuckle escapes when reminiscing over their restitution which I like to call the Harry Potter Foundation which is patronized by the unwilling yet generous donors, Vernon and Petunia Dursley.

Dressed in warm oversized winter gear while armed with a baseball cap, backpack, canteen and a handy hunter's knife. All lifted from the Dursley household; though I doubt they'll be missed since they were dust covered and left forgotten by Vernon or Dudley. Initially, I had high hopes to expand the backpack's available space to mirror the extension charm and pack with enough provisions, food included, to last one person at least three weeks if properly rationed. Regrettably, the backpack is man-made so I took all available funds from within the house to purchase meals. To avoid unwanted attention, these purchases will be limited to late afternoon and early evening hours as most kids between the ages of 5 to 18 would attend school earlier in the day. Certainly not ideal, but workarounds can be achieved.

Overall, everything has come together pretty nicely.

Off in the distance, the distinct skyline of London appears on the horizon.

Author's Note: Not sure if you caught it, but the warm apple pie and cheddar is a reference to Men in Black 3 between Josh Brolin and Will Smith's characters being stumped before finding a much needed clue. Great film by the way.

Going forward the runic arrays will be identified using the following arrangement:

Sleep/Intent/Pain/Force-field, Oven

Sunup/Sundown/Radius/Moisture/Heat/Time