Nobody is born Evil.
Evil people become that way because of their experiences in life.
Harry Potter had already had many bad experiences in his life at the age of 7: he lived with people who disdain him, and were cruel. They lavished attention on their son, Dudley, who, unlike them, could hurt Harry physically under the guise of a bit of rough and tumble. 'Harry Hunting' had become a popular sport for not only Dudley, but many of his friends too.
Harry had accepted it as part of life
But today before him, for a change, Dudley was instead extorting a young girl of her lunch money beneath the shade of a great. Harry looked on, unable to do anything, as Dudley hit the girl and left her crying on the floor. He gave up and walked off, and Harry, summoning some bravery from somewhere went over to her
"He does that to me too, but for fun" Harry said, the girl did not look up at him, strawberry blonde curls framing her face and continued to cry. "I don't even have money for him to take, Freaks aren't allowed lunch"
The girl sobbed and looked up "Freak?"
"I thought that was my name until I came to school" Harry said
She sniffed once "That sounds awful"
"Awwww look, Potty's found himself a girlfriend" Called a mocking voice, Dudley had returned, the rest of his gang sneered along at the two Harry stood, and was immediately pushed back down by Dudley, who then raised his fist at the girl "you shouldn't talk to freaks, girly". The girl looked to Harry, then to Dudley's fist and ran off.
"See Potty? Nobody likes you, because you're a freak"
Then the kicking started
It was a week later when Harry found himself in the same situation again, the girl was about to be extorted again. Harry looked down at his feet in shame, he had tried to protect the girl, and failed. He saw the stones that made up the edge of the playground. A pale white pebble caught his eye, through it ran a vein of dark flint. Harry picked it up and examined it. Harry owned very little and what he did own, he treasured greatly. The pebble would look nice in his cupboard with his soldiers, and he doubted the Dursley's would appreciate it.
Harry looked up and saw Dudley raise his fist and once again wished he could do something to stop the brute. He grasped the pebble firmly in his hand in his anger, and hurled it in frustration. It soared through the air. Toward Dudley. Curving through the air, almost unnaturally.
Toward Dudley's head.
The stone smashed into the back of Dudley's head and he fell to the ground. Harry couldn't see if he was unconscious, but ran anyway, he knew he'd be found out and punished. He always was.
As it turns out, Harry was not implicated. There had been a huge amount of fuss of course, and not just by the Dursley's either. No matter how many times the school demanded the perpetrator come forward, Harry stood his ground. The fuss died down after a few weeks, and Dudley came back to school 'bravely, traumatised, and severely injured'. Harry himself noted Dudley only moaned in pain when other people were about, and a quick examination of the Dursley's unused dictionary revealed it would be extremely difficult for someone to be brave AND traumatised. Harry felt an odd feeling in himself when he realised he had gotten away with attacking Dudley. He had fought back! And hadn't been punished any more than usual! He remembered the feeling of power when the stone smashed into Dudley's head, of satisfaction and revenge and justice.
He could get used to that
"I know you did it" said a voice
Harry looked up from examining his stone, the police hadn't been able to identify it amongst the other stones nearby splattered with blood, so Harry had gleefully recovered it when no-one was around. He looked up at the voice and saw the girl, who's spot Harry supposed he was currently sitting in, under the shade of the tree.
"I won't tell anyone" She said
"No?" Harry replied doubtfully, he had been called out on everything he had ever done wrong in his life, and thousands of times more on things he hadn't even done.
"You stopped him from punching me"
"It's bad enough he does it to me"
"He shouldn't do it at all"
"Well if he has to, I'd rather it be me" Harry stated. The girl looked at him, puzzled.
"Why did you protect me?"
"It felt like the right thing to do"
"Thank you." She hugged him quickly, and ran off, leaving Harry stunned at the first hug he had ever received, as well as the first issue of thanks
He could get used to that, too
Harry decided than if he could get away with hurting Dudley once, he could get away with it again. However, it was imperative that he get away with it, because otherwise the adult Dursley's would likely rethink their ideas of leaving most of the beatings to Dudley. Sure, they hit him with frying pans, and cuffed him on occasion, but Harry knew it could be a lot worse. Dudley had been vaguely tolerable following his injury, as if preoccupied on the lookout for his attacker. But he knew it would not last long.
Dudley was back to bullying kids in no time, bandages or not. Harry avoided him like the plague as to not invite an attack, but it was not long until a game of Harry hunting had started, and Harry found himself backed up a fenced off gap between buildings
"I say we bash him, then put 'im in them bins!" suggested one of the more creative sadists
"bash 'im wiv his beluvid dictionary" suggested one of the more illiterate individuals
"Nowhere to run now Potter" Dudley goaded, closing in. Harry threw the stone at him again, it bounced off his cheek, leaving a scrape "Nice try Potty, you'll never be as good as whoever actually did it, and I'm gonna do to him what I'm gonna do to you…"
Harry cringed back, his attack had failed, and he braced for a severe beating, but then in his surprise the air changed, and a wind picked up. He opened his eyes and found himself on the roof on one of the buildings. The goons looked confused and looked around, wondering where he had gone. Harry was more confused as to HOW he had gone, but was content to stay silent. He climbed down once they were gone.
"Harry Potter"
"Excuse me?"
"You're Harry Potter"
"Yes…?" Harry replied, looking at the boy confusingly
"You're supposed to be fighting dragons or taming vampires or subduing beasts, not attending a muggle infants school!"
"Why is that?"
"You're the saviour of the wizarding world!" the boy stated, as if it was blindingly obvious "I saw you apparate yesterday, I brought my book in about you."
He handed Harry a tome with 'Harry Potter goes to The Alps' and a picture of a teenage-looking boy climbing a mountain holding a stick and shooting lightning at a strange animal
"Where did you get this?" Harry asked, awestruck, it certainly LOOKED like a real book, but years of abuse, neglect and bad adults had given Harry a very cynical look on the world.
"Diagon Alley of course, don't tell me you've never been to Florish and Blotts, they stock all your books!" The boy blurted out, then looked even more scandalised when Harry just looked confused.
"I don't know what you're talking about" Harry replied and apologised, what a strange boy.
From then on, Harry started finding notes tucked into his jumper pockets when he left it on the hook in the cloakroom. The first kinds of notes were written very neatly, and had come from the girl Harry had talked to a couple of times. It turned out her name was Sarah Parker, and she too was lonely, disliked by her parents, born to a man who was not her mother's husband. The other type was written in a scrawl much like Harry's own, and detailed imaginary places and people that the boy Harry had talked to briefly had come up with.
When that didn't work, the boy instead started talking with Harry over a shared hatred of Dudley, and it turned out John was quite imaginative over plans to get revenge on him. Sarah began to join them after she saw them sitting together and they banded together in the absence of 'Fatty Stinkface' as Dudley became known to them.
It wasn't long before Dudley saw them all together and immediately gathered his gang to disperse them and make Harry unpopular again, the freak didn't deserve friends. Harry was once again powerless to stop him, and the three were left black and blue.
"I want to hurt him"
The words came out of Sarah's mouth, and Harry and John looked at the usually passive and peaceful girl as if she had grown an extra head.
"Well it just so happens I have an idea" stated John "We need to embarrass him in front of the whole school, something big, something that cannot be traced back to us."
Harry and Sarah nodded
"Sarah, doesn't your mum take laxatives" John asked. Harry Grinned.
"Yeah, but what's a laxative?"
"Well, according to Harry's beloved dictionary, it makes you go poo-poo, and Harry has to make Fatty Stinkface's lunches."
It went just as planned, and Dudley had an enormous 'accident' in front of the whole dinner hall, from then on, mocking whispers could be heard about Dudley. The trio kept up their subversive assault, Dudley's trousers fell apart in assembly, his sports clothes shrunk in the wash and all could see how fat he was, he had another 'accident', this time mid lesson, and the room had to be emptied because of the smell. Insults began being thrown at Dudley, his gang fell apart, he walked with less of a swagger, and more of a paranoid, almost mad-looking gait. Whispers of 'Fatty Stinkface' became more and more common.
Harry didn't see it coming when Dudley snapped.
The three friends, now fairly close due to their constant plotting, dodging of authority, and anti-Dudley escapades, were chatting amongst themselves on the way home from school, planning to take a break and visit a nearby park. Sarah was always looking for an excuse to get out of her house, her mum and step-dad were always on different kinds of drugs. John's family hated him because he had some disease Harry couldn't find the real meaning of called 'squib' so he lived with a foster parent who drank heavily because her husband had been killed in some 'blood war'.
Harry and John were dragged into an alleyway by the scruffs of their necks and Sarah was bundled in by a suddenly emerging Piers Polkiss. After being thrown against a wall at the back of the alley, the two bigger boys had the trio trapped in the alley
"You did it. The pranks, the attacks, I know it was you. I KNOW." Dudley screamed "So now you will PAY!" He flew forwards, and nothing could prepare Harry, John and Sarah for his rage.
Harry caught a fist to the face immediately, then another to the gut and went down hard. Piers shoved Sarah to the floor and pushed John toward Dudley, unbalancing him, then was floored by Dudley's kick. Piers started kicking him, and Dudley turned to Harry
"YOU RUINED MY LIFE FREAK" Dudley began raining punches down all over Harry. Sarah, in the respite, grabbed a piece of loose masonry as her two friends were being pummelled, and threw it as hard as she could at Dudley. Instead of stopping her, it drove him further into a rage.
"YOU BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU" Roared Dudley, climbing off Harry and shoving Piers aside to get to Sarah, Dudley drew a kitchen knife from his jeans.
"D, man, you 'aint gonna knife a girl are you?"
"GET OUT OF MY WAY" Dudley advanced on Sarah, but John stood weakly and tried to grab Dudley.
Dudley turned toward John, and thrust the knife deep into his gut.
"NO!" shouted Harry, and red clouded his vision, the loose piece of masonry at his feet flew toward his hand as he stood weakly, and advanced on Dudley, who was shaking a heavily bloodied John like a ragdoll trying to free his knife. Harry dashed the brick against the back of Dudley's head, who could not see or block it as both his hands and attention were on John, he screamed and went down. Harry smashed the brick at him again, and again, and again, satisfaction welling up inside him, now HE was in control. Once Dudley's face was a bloody mess, Harry was about to throw the rock to the side but heard a feminine 'gurk'
"Oi, Freak!" Piers was on top of Sarah, hands around her neck "You're in for it now Potter, but first…" Sarah slowly started going pink, then purple "How does it feel Potty, watching your girl die?" Harry charged forwards and smashed the brick into his face, the blood making his hands slippery, he dropped the brick, so instead opted to push his thumbs into Piers' eye sockets, he screamed as Harry dug his thumbs deep into the jelly of his eyes, held his hand out and the brick flew into his hand, before Harry caved in Piers' forehead. Harry felt a thrum of power surge through his veins. Piers had stopped moving, but Dudley was back up again, grabbed Harry, Harry screamed as he felt his arm dislocate. Dudley threw Harry across the alley and he felt the other arm shatter as it hit the wall. Dudley loomed over Harry's broken form, grinning madly, John and Piers' broken forms lying limp behind him, the alleyway splattered with blood from all five of them. Dudley's face was a bloody mess, his mean, piggy eyes gleaming underneath the gore with evil.
"This is where it ends freak, and I'll kill her right after yAAAARRGH" Dudley fell down, Sarah pulled the knife from his back and stabbed it into him again, punctuating her words with thrusts
"YOU. WON'T. TOUCH. HIM." She dropped the knife to the floor and began to sob into Harry
"I'll get us out of this Sarah" Harry said determinedly
He looked over the three corpses and wondered how.
The explanation, ironically, came from the police, who, upon arriving, asked Harry if it was a mugging gone wrong, and, having no better excuse, agreed and went with that. The assailants had run off after beating them all senseless and killing John, Piers and Dudley. The Police did not think two 7-year-olds capable of killing, therefore did not even consider implicating Sarah and Harry in the murders. Sarah was sent home, alternating between long silences of staring away and sobbing. Once the adrenaline wore off Harry began to sob too.
He had killed someone tonight.
The Dursleys were also crying their hearts out, their precious Duddykins taken from them so young. A remembrance assembly was held for his and Piers' deaths the next day, Harry returned to school the day after, but did not see Sarah. He went to visit her after school finished, and went straight up to her room, her parents left the doors unlocked and didn't care who came in or out when they were 'experimenting with substances'. Harry found Sarah staring out of the window in silence
"Sarah?"
"We killed people Harry." She replied in a dead voice
"I know"
"That makes us bad people"
"Maybe"
"Maybe?"
"We killed bad people, in self defence Sarah, and they killed John"
"I miss John"
"So do I Sarah"
"He has left us now"
"I know, that is why I don't regret what I did. Dudley took him from us"
"You're stronger that I am, Harry"
"But you.." Harry started before Sarah interrupted
"I'm not dealing with this as well as you are Harry"
"Can I do anything? Sarah?"
There was a pause
"Don't leave me Harry"
"Never."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
"That would be nice."
There was another pause.
"Will you take responsibility for me?"
"What?"
"Take responsibility for me, you're the only person I have ever trusted aside from John, and I miss him so much already."
"I don't think I can take responsibility for myself Sarah, let alone you."
"You sell yourself short"
Harry looked into her dead-looking eyes
"If that is what you want, and what you need"
"I think it is Harry, I don't think I will cope otherwise"
"I need you Sarah"
"Then I need you to take responsibility"
"How?"
"I borrowed some books from John, they were… enlightening. I want I want relief from responsibility, from guilt, from freedom"
"What? How?"
"You're a wizard Harry."
Harry Potter did not think he would ever have belongings, the things he considered his, he knew at a whim people would take them away from him- his crayons, his soldiers, his clothes. His cupboard. All poor quality, and he only had them because no-one else wanted them. When Sarah blankly handed him a thick book with a worn cover labelled 'Human Bonds and Bonding' and Sarah opened it to the page explaining 'The Consensual Slave Bond', Harry stuttered and protested.
Harry couldn't take responsibility for his own belongings, Dudley had thrown out many of the broken toys he found Harry playing with, flashbacks to Sarah slowly turning purple filled his mind.
"I cannot live like this Harry, if you cannot take responsibility, please… I can't go on" A single tear fell down her face, Harry stared into her eyes, the light blue orbs staring back into his bright green.
"You are all I have Sarah"
"Then you know what I need, and what I want"
Harry started reading. It wasn't like magic was real anyway, he'd just say some words that wouldn't work, and Sarah would think she was better, and Harry would get his only friend back. And he thought that right until the glowing started.
Harry awoke to Sarah's Strawberry Blonde curls dangling onto his face, a look of worry on her features, Harry sat up and she recoiled, then helped him up
"Are you alright Master?"
"Master?"
"I am your slave now Master, the ritual was performed perfectly."
"Can you not call me Master, Sarah?"
"It would be difficult… Harry" she spoke with some pain, but it relieved Harry a little
"How long have I been out?"
"Overnight, it is 6.23am"
"Bugger, the Dursley's will be mad, I need to get back"
"Of course, I will be here"
"Take care of yourself Sarah"
"Yes Master"
Harry returned to an ambulance sitting on the driveway of Number 4, Privet Drive.
Whilst Vernon had thrown himself into his work at the loss of his only son, Petunia had no such distraction, and had slowly spiralled into deeper and deeper depression, until she had taken her own life. Harry continued to go to school, cook meals, and tidy occasionally, but Vernon left immediately after breakfast at 8 and got home when Harry would have dinner ready at 7. Harry began sleeping in Dudley's spare room, and began cleaning it out. Harry spent the rest of his last year at school mostly with Sarah.
Their bond had a lot of odd side effects. Harry felt very protective of Sarah, more accepting of her meekness. Sarah obeyed every command Harry gave, conscious or not, called him Master most of the time and got away with it at school by whispering it and the occasional painful 'Harry'. That was why Harry had given up with insisting on 'just Harry' as it caused his only friend pain. Sarah had also taken to wearing scarves, turtlenecks or chokers to hide her slave mark. The black band looked like a tattoo and would attract too much attention and questioning.
Harry read through all of John's old books after the bonding. If it was true he was a wizard, then he needed to know how to be one. He had already done magic, 'accidental'- in apparating onto the roof, or re-growing his hair (sadly not a metamorphmagic) as well as ritual magic for the bonding of Sarah. His magic now flowed into Sarah, since she was a muggle, which would in theory cost him magical power, but he figured it would be worth it to keep her alive. His magic would heal her like it would him, stave off non-magical diseases, and strengthen her body.
John's book collection was a real mish-mash of topics. Some simple – A 'rune dictionary and tables' compendium was interesting reading (Harry already read an English, French and German dictionaries for 'fun'), whereas some were very confusing, like 'Ritual Arithmancy' and 'A History of Magic'. Harry struggled to work out what was fiction and what was not, there was a book by a 'Gilderoy Lockheart' which was a very romantic tale, even if there was only one character; as was 'Tales of Beedle the Bard' and of course, the 'true story' of Harry's childhood spent apparently fighting monsters in the Alps.
Harry and Sarah began to make new friends, free from the bad influence of Dudley. Harry had also taken over most of the house at Privet Drive, as Vernon robotically went about his days, most of it spent at work. He had actually been promoted due to his hard work and the amount of overtime he committed. Harry had to procure all the Bank details subtly when they started running out of food, then began selling all of Petunia and Dudley's rubbish. Harry had come from nothing, and his access to his Uncle's swelling bank account did not affect his thriftiness. He bought what he (and Vernon) needed – food and occasional clothes, and occasionally travelled into London to try and locate wizarding shops. His books mentioned fantastical places like 'Apothecaries', 'Robe Tailors' and Wizarding Bookstores. He had had reasonable luck in a couple of muggle book stores, he and Sarah could sense the genuinely magical books that had somehow ended up here, and he bought them all. Knowledge was power.
But then Harry realised he had a problem larger than the Dursleys had been.
'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts' book Harry had found in the fiction section at a second hand bookstore had hinted at Lord Voldemort's followers still existing, and there were rumours that he was not truly gone. That was why he had been dumped at the Dursley's, for his safety. That safety would end when he left home for school and when he graduated. An 8 year old Harry needed protection and, well, power was good for that, it had worked for dealing with Dudley.
Harry had decided he quite liked power.
At school harry had built up a large group of friends, and through them, he controlled most the school. Sarah wasn't a huge socialite, so Harry instead relied upon a pretty young girl called Marceline. Marceline was the school princess, with wealthy parents and the adoration of her peers. She and Harry became fast friends after they realised what they both wanted.
After a year, he had given up trying to find 'Diagon Alley', but when shopping for Sarah's 9th birthday present in London he heard someone shouting about 'messing up in the floo' and 'having to walk to the leaky cauldron like muggles'. He followed them to a building which turned out to be a pub, and went home immediately to prepare. He took cash out, dressed subtly (John, may he rest in peace, had said he was famous and he didn't want to attract attention), covered his scar with a woolly hat and returned to the wizarding pub on a cold Decembers day.
Apparently a 9-year-old entering a bar alone was not an odd occurrence in a magical establishment as no-one flattered an eyelid when he walked in. He needed shops and a bank, he went up to the barkeeper
"Excuse me sir?" Bright green eyes shone up at the man "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"
"Muggleborn?"
Harry paused a second, before throwing out the first excuse he could think of.
"No Sir, Halfblood, I am meeting my father at the bank, it's my first time"
"Right you are son, follow me." The man led Harry out the back and toward a wall, he tapped his wand on several bricks which Harry attempted to remember. "Now your dad will be at Gringotts at the end of the street. You take care lad, if you get lost, just come back here and ask for Tom, that's me" The man smiled, and Harry walked through the hole in the wall after thanking 'Tom'.
Harry gazed around in wonder as he went down Diagon Alley, everything he could possibly want was here, but he needed money. His 'father at the bank' gamble had payed off in spades, getting him entry, knowledge, directions and a contact. As he entered the bank with an ominous greeting above the door, he was greeted to the sight of scores of short, grim looking creatures, he went up to a desk manned by one of them
"Excuse me sir, I wish to change muggle money for wizarding money"
"Is that so, and do you have a vault key?"
"I do not sir, can I open a vault?"
"Name."
"John… Watson"
"Cut your finger with this knife Mr Watson, so we can have your blood on record" Harry cut his finger and the blood was absorbed into the knife. The goblin's look turned from boredom to a grin, "It says here you are really Harry Potter, Mr Watson, and you already possess a vault with us. Would you like to explain yourself?"
"Not really, but could I get the key for that one then?"
After a brief explanation and liberal application of belated bribes, the goblin agreed to his silence and handed the key to Harry. He even took him down to his vault, which, to Harry's surprise, he found full of 'Galleons, Sickles and Knuts' which had an awfully confusing exchange rate. Harry decided to leave his muggle and wizarding money separate, withdrew a substantial amount of galleons, and left the bank, thanking and tipping the goblin for his aid.
"The name is Griphook Mr Potter, may your enemies drown in their own blood"
"Then thank you again Griphook, er, may your enemies also drown in their blood"
"Very good Mr Potter, though use your imagination next time, a goblin does enjoy the misfortune of others, especially those who have wronged them." The goblin grinned. Harry decided he quite liked the goblins, despite their ruinous charges on almost everything.
After picking up several things from the apothecary and acquiring a few dozen books, Harry pondered how he'd get around the underage wizarding restrictions on wands. He could get one made, but no wand-maker would take him seriously. He decided that he would have to stick to brewing and runes until he could magic himself to look older and acquire a property away from Privet Drive. He returned home and began sifting through his potions and rune books.
Potions was just like cooking, and Harry discovered he was reasonable at it, and taught Sarah how to brew as well. Muggles usually could not brew potions as they lacked the magical power to infuse into the liquid, but Sarah could channel Harry's magic, which would give her potions his signature, and save him lots of time, and give her something to do. Harry also started on a few example rune clusters: lightweight wards, weak offensive runestones, domestic applications. Harry discovered that while not naturally talented at much, he did well when he put the work in. He wondered what house he'd end up in at Hogwarts.
Over the next few months, Harry grew in strength of both magic and mind. He visited Diagon Alley periodically to pick up new books and return the ones he'd read, keeping his notes. But one day, he was knocked down Knockturn Alley by some fool in a hurry. Knockturn Alley got Harry curious, but not curious enough to get murdered. He had now, by use of potions, at least grown physically taller, if temporarily. He felt like he was prepared enough, and advanced down into the dark street.
Knockturn Alley also had an Ollivanders, an offshoot branch of the family, which dealt with second-hand wands and custom creations. The man was as creepy as the actual Ollivander (who had refused to sell Harry a wand until he was 11), but much more flexible, for the right price. A full, custom wand, would set harry back a hundred galleons, and would take time. None of the second-hand wands worked for him, so he left, at least now having the option, of getting a new wand.
Harry also visited his parents' house in Godric's Hollow. One corner of the house was destroyed, but otherwise it was perfectly liveable. He found a blood warded cupboard, which he hacked into the side of, bypassing the door, which contained all his Mother and Father's things. He took it all, as it was rightfully his, and left like a rat in the night. His Mother's wand worked poorly for Harry, and he stashed it away for safekeeping, but his father's wand, a beautiful wand of mahogany, worked well for him, and would not set off the trace if used a sufficient distance away from his house in Surrey.
Harry was now armed with a wand, decent knowledge of Runes and Potions, A muggle house, a potential wizarding cottage (eventually), a large circle of muggle friends, and a slave. Sarah had really brightened up now Harry had given her tasks to do, he slowly relinquished the housework to her, as well as potions work, while he studied and worked on rune clusters. Harry had read the book on bonds all the way through, and there was not much he could do with muggles. Sarah was the exception, and he was willing for her to be a drain on his magical core, because she was his closest friend. Harry had improvised a weak runic magic detector, to find muggleborns, but there were none in his junior school, not even Marceline. He'd have to wait until Hogwarts. In the meantime, his trips to Knockturn Alley had turned up a book on rituals, while Harry could barely understand most of them, and lacked the magical power for the rest, there were one or two designed for the heirs of magical families to protect their children, which would suit him fine.
Harry prepared a list of the rituals he'd need to do, and when he'd need to do them at Hogwarts, as it was the only magical place he could get access to. He couldn't well start drawing shapes on the cobbles of Diagon Alley in blood could he?
And then on Harry's 9th birthday, he was betrayed.
Harry had been at school, enjoying the attention from all his friends. He stood up and made a speech to his year, Marceline at his side. Suddenly, his shorts and underwear were around his knees. There was silence,
"Harry's winkie!" Marceline shouted, the room exploded into laughter and mockery. Harry stood, stunned. "I don't share." She murmured to him. Harry burst into tears, he had loved Marceline, maybe even as much as Sarah. She was great conversation, witty, funny, and respected him. His equal
All lies.
Harry ran from the room, holding his trousers up, tears streaming down his face.
She got away with it, of course. Her dad basically ran the school, and the staff were more than happy to pass it off as a prank. Harry was ridiculed for the rest of the year, and spent the summer isolating himself with Uncle Vernon and Sarah.
A year of study followed, since at school, Harry could only watch on as Marceline and his peers had an exceptional final year of junior school. Harry swore revenge.
"You'll always have me, master." Sarah tried to cheer him up.
"I know Sarah." Harry turned to her, his loyal slave would, and could never. "Become her friend, get close to her, and some day, her joy will become mud in her mouth, and she will pay."
"Of course master" Sarah hid the worried look. She was her master's will, after all.
Harry was filled with joy when his Hogwarts letter came.
