Hermione began by re-reading the last line.

'Harry was used to spiders because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.'

That's something she always does when she's interrupted when reading aloud, Harry mused.

"When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike."

"A second TV, like for his room?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Another one for his room."

"Another? Who needs two TV's?"

Harry shrugged.

"It's foolish. People who spoil their children are only setting themselves up for failure." Molly glanced towards Narcissa.

"I don't spoil my son like that. Lucius might but I do not. That's probably why he prefers his father's company."

Molly shrugged, unconvinced but Harry knew that Draco only acted that way for attention. He craved his father's approval and did just about anything, good or bad, to get his attention. It wasn't that he disliked his mother, he knew Narcissa loved him, but Lucius probably never told Draco that he loved him or was proud of him, and what he failed to realise was Draco needed that.

"Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise — unless of course it involved punching somebody."

Hermione frowned at the book suspecting what was to come but pressed on, wanting the unpleasantness to be over.

"Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast."

A low growl echoed through the room as Remus' eyes flashed at the mere mention of someone hitting his cub. Sirius whispered rapidly in his ear but if the heaving chest was anything to go by, he wasn't listening.

"Moony, it's alright."

Amber eyes snapped up.

"I'm safe here." Harry squeezed Severus' hand for emphasis.

"Nothing can hurt me."

Those amber eyes held Harry's a moment longer before fading to the more golden colour that belonged to Remus.

He didn't say anything but Harry knew. Knew that he was loved.

"Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was."

"Damn right Harry's fast!" Ron exclaimed.

"On his feet…"

"And on a broom!" The twin chimed.

"Harry kills the rest of the Gryffindor team in sprints and long distance running." Ginny added.

"Guys, I'm fast. They get it." Harry said.

Hermione giggled at their antics, it was almost like normal, but she knew everything had changed. Harry wasn't this fearless leader they imagined him to be but a scared, abused young man trying desperately to mourn and heal, all at the same time.

"Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose."

Remus' eyes flashed again.

"Ron, do you mind switching places with Remus?"

Ron shook his head, but Harry knew his best mate was still a little scared of his godfather who had served 12 years in Azkaban, although falsely accused.

"Don't worry, he won't bite. Probably."

Harry grinned when Ron gulped but he rose and moved towards Sirius. After Remus stalked over to his space next to Harry, Ron sat next to the former convict who promptly thumped him on the back and began to regale him with tales of the pranks he pulled in school.

Remus, meanwhile, sat next to Harry and Severus, whose hands were still locked together. He watched intently as Severus ran his thumb up and down over the back on Harry's hand.

"It's okay, Moony." Harry soothed, taking Remus' trembling hand in his free one.

"I'll be okay."

"It shouldn't have happened." Remus whispered in a trembling voice, "I should have been there."

"You're here now, and that's all that matters."

Harry leant his head against Remus' shoulder as the werewolf rubbed his cheek against his hair.

Scenting behaviour, Harry thought, fighting back a giggle.

"The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning."

Everyone's eyes turned to Harry.

Harry flushed, dunking his head.

"I didn't know what it meant then." He murmured.

"He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it. "In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

"Car crash?!" Sirius bellowed.

"My god…" Albus whispered, "they really didn't tell you…"

Harry shook his head.

"They always told me my father was a drunk and he killed my mother."

Tears flooded Hermione's eyes as she realised her best friend had never grieved for his parents and probably never would. She hoped Severus would be able to help him with that.

"Don't ask questions — that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon. "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting."

Harry let go of Remus' hand to instinctively flatten the mop of hair he'd inherited from his father.

"Yeah, Harry… Comb your hair." The twins shouted.

"I do! But it doesn't lie flat." Harry shouted back.

Remus flinched, his heightened senses weren't always a good thing.

"Sorry, Remy."

"Don't worry, I've put up with Sirius most of my life."

"OI!"

Harry laughed at his godfather's hurt tone. Severus and Remus both smiled lovingly at the young man.

"About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place."

Hermione began to laugh. It started a small stifled giggles that quickly dissolved into full blown laughter. Harry tried to glare at her but she only laughed harder.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Harry…" she said in between fits of giggles, "…it's too much."

Hermione fought to get herself under control as Harry continued to mock glare at her. Clearing her throat she quickly began reading again.

"Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother."

"Hermione dear, could you repeat that. I don't think I heard it right."

"You did, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said.

"How long have you cooked for them Harry?" Molly asked.

"For as long as I can remember. I had a stool at the beginning because I couldn't reach the top of the stove."

"How old were you?"

"Maybe 5 or 6…"

To say Molly was angry was an understatement, most of her children were 13 or older and she didn't trust most of them in the kitchen. She realises that Harry was treated more like a house elf than a child. Maybe that's why he feels such a connection with them, she mused, gazing at the three elves at his feet, Dobby still clinging to Harry's trouser leg.

"We will discuss this later."

Harry only nodded in response.

"Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig."

Sirius, Ron, and the twin dissolved into uncontrollable laughter at the image. Severus snorted, obviously holding in his laughter. Harry was determined to make the man laugh more.

"PIG IN A WIG! PIG IN A WIG!" the twins chanted, louder and louder until Molly yelled at them to be quiet.

"Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell. "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"God, could that child be any more spoilt?" Narcissa asked.

Harry snorted prompting the woman to look at him.

"That's only the beginning."

Narcissa was shocked but couldn't believe that this child would get worse.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

There was silence as Hermione continued to read.

"Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty … thirty …"

"39 you fool!" Hermione shouted at the book, "Can't this idiot even do basic math?"

Harry shook his head.

"I usually do it for him."

"Harry you suck at math," Ron chimed.

"No I don't, I just make it seem that way…" he mumbled.

"Explain!" Minerva snapped.

"Well, when I got better grades that Dudley, I got punished. My uncle made me do Dudley's work so he'd get good grades and I'd have to answer mine incorrectly."

"So you intentionally dumbed yourself down?"

Harry nodded, his face flushed with shame.

"Do you still do it?" the stern professor asked.

Again, Harry nodded.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't going to. I swear! But I saw how you reacted when Draco got better grades than you in potions and I could easily get better grades than both of you, so I…"

"What do you mean Harry?" Severus and Remus asked.

"Well after Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley I read all of my text books in a couple of weeks. I have an eidetic memory…"

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"An eidetic memory is the ability to recall an image from memory with high precision for a brief period after seeing it only once, so I only need to see or read something once and I never forget it."

Hermione gasped realising that this meant Harry could have easily been at the top of every class in theory and his power level also meant he was the top in most practical subjects.

"So you basically dumbed yourself down to make yourself seem average?" Minerva asked.

"It's the easiest way to blend in." Harry confessed.

"Blend in?" Remus questioned.

"I stand out enough as it is being Harry bloody Potter, the boy who lived. I saw that at the welcoming feast first year and I didn't want to stand out more than that so yes, I deliberately make myself dumber to appear average in my grades, so other students and staff don't really notice me."

"I get that, Harry," Hermione said, "but what I don't get is why you said you could beat me and Draco in potions."

"In primary school the subject I excelled at was Chemistry…"

"And potions is the magical version of chemistry…" Hermione continued.

"Exactly! I was so… so… excited to have one subject in the magical world I understood."

Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry's response.

Harry closed his eyes and he continued. This was the most animated anyone had ever seen him.

"The precise nature of the subject, the explosive temperament of the ingredients, the skill needed to harness them correctly… It's something I was made to do… I…"

The rest of the sentence was inaudible as Harry mumbled.

"Try again, Harry, not even my werewolf hearing picked that up." Remus jested.

Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Well, earlier this year when we started talking about career choices after school, I wanted to be potions master, despite everyone telling me I should be an auror."

Severus' eyes widened in shock.

"A potions master?" He asked.

Harry nodded, cheeks flushed with heat.

He shifted, "I was actually hoping next year I could start an apprenticeship with you…"

Severus tried to suppress his smile but couldn't. Not many students wanted to become potion masters and even fewer wanted to apprentice under him. The only offer of interest he had was from his godson, Draco.

"If that's what you want Harry, we will make it happen but you need to stop dumbing yourself down in class." Minerva chided.

"Yes, Professor." Harry beamed.

With that conversation ended, Harry gestured for Hermione to continue.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair."

Molly huffed at his cousin's antics.

"At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried."

"Well that can't be good," Remus said.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction."

"I have a name." Harry mumbled.

"Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned."

"What's wrong with cats?" Hermione asked, thinking of her own cat.

"Nothing, but I'm allergic to them. They make me sneeze."

"Oh." Hermione's mouth was downturned.

"Don't worry Mione, Crookshanks is fine as long as he doesn't climb on me."

She smiled. Harry obviously sensed her worry and immediately put it as ease.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbies, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again. "We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy." The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon."

"Nothing's changed there, she always looked like that even as a child." Severus chuckled.

Harry was nervous about the encounter at the zoo, he knew it was coming and most knew he was a parselmouth but it still unnerved almost everyone, even Ron.

Seeing his friend frown, Ron knew Harry needed a break, just time to collect his thoughts, so before Hermione could start reading again he interrupted.

"Can we break for lunch? I'm starving."

"Of course, sweetheart." Molly replied.

Knowing what Ron had done, he gave his friend a small smile.

"Let's have a break and eat, then we can continue with the book." Albus said.

With that the three house elves popped away, probably to collect the food from the kitchens as the group broke apart.

Harry gave a sigh of relief, he squeezed Severus' hand before releasing it, making a beeline for his friends.