Pain
Pain so deep that it overwhelmed him.
Anger
Anger so intense that it boiled in him like a raging volcano just waiting to erupt.
Hatred
A turbulent river that coursed through him, in his veins, fuelling him, giving him the drive to continue.
This was all that 8 year old Harry Potter felt as he lay in his "room", a little wardrobe underneath the stairs, bruised and battered. His cold emerald eyes shone with these emotions as he remembered what happened just moments ago.
He was hurrying down the street as quietly as he could, as fast as he could. He could hear their jeers and taunts as he ran; the calls of 'Freak' and their threats. He was afraid. Afraid of what they would do to him. The people in question weren't some gang members, they weren't criminals, no, "they" were just children. They were just schoolyard bullies. In fact, their leader was his cousin (using the loosest meaning of the word he could). But what they did to him was definitely criminal. They would catch him, hunt him down, Harry hunting as they liked to call it, and then beat him. Beat him for whatever reason they could conjure, be it him being freakish or be it nothing at all.
Today they were after him for scoring higher than them. Their school results had come out today and Harry had appeared at the top of the class while Dudley (his cousin) and his goons were right at the bottom. And Harry knew he was a goner. He hoped that he could reach his Uncles home as quickly as possible, after all he hoped, they wouldn't let them hurt him for simply being smart, would they? They would be proud of him.
And so he ran and the hunt began. Dudley and his goons chased him. Harry ran for all that he was worth. He ran through streets, into alleys, hoping to lose them. But alas, he couldn't. And it seemed that his luck had finally run out when he reached a dead end.
He was panicking. He was terrified. The jeers were sounding closer and closer. He scanned the alley for anything, any place to hide.
There were none.
The footsteps were just round the bend.
Harry closed his eyes. Adrenaline pumped in him. He prayed for someone, for anyone to help him. Suddenly, he felt something from deep within him, a warmth that quickly spread throughout his body.
*Crack*
Harry opened his eyes. The sky was a mild grey. It was quiet and peaceful.
Quiet
No taunts. No footsteps. No Dudley.
Harry looked around. He was standing on a roof top. Eagles were flying in the sky. The Sun was setting and the grey sky was gaining a beautiful orange hue to it.
He was stunned. He did not understand what had just happened. One moment he was trying to hide from his cousin and the next he was on a roof, completely safe and out of harm's way. He remembered the warmth, the feeling that had coursed through him. It was the most wonderful sensation he had ever felt. He vowed to understand what it was.
It was an hour later that Harry found himself nearing number 4, Privet Drive. He walked up the driveway and rang the door bell. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and then the door opened.
Harry found himself facing his Aunt, Petunia Dursley. She was a very thin woman with bony features. Her neck was a bit too long and appeared very frail. But she had a shrill voice that could make the strongest of people cringe. "You're late, I had to make dinner myself boy. It's all over so I suppose you'll have to stay hungry tonight" She said as she looked down at him with a sneer. "Vernon is waiting for you in the sitting room."
Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, was a behemoth of a man. He had a thick moustache, piggish eyes and a short temper. He worked at Grunning's, a drill manufacturing company.
Harry walked to the living room. He saw Dudley sitting there watching tele. Uncle Vernon was right beside him having a drink. As he walked in, both turned around to face him. Dudley's face slowly turned into a gleeful smile as though in deep anticipation for something. Vernon's face, slowly, but surely, turned red. "Dudley, go to your room now," he said. "But Dad- "Dudley protested. "I said now!" Dudley harrumphed and stomped upstairs. Vernon didn't seem to care. "Your report card came in today," he told Harry in a deathly calm voice. "Yeah! I was first!" Harry exclaimed with pride.
THWACK
Harry raised his hand to his face where a dark red bruise was forming.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN LIE, BOY!? I WILL NOT HAVE CHEATERS IN MY HOUSE!"
Harry's eyes watered. "I didn't cheat", he said. A single traitorous tear leaked down his cheek.
"I see you have still not learnt your lesson."
With that Vernon slapped him again. He slapped him till Harry could hold the tears back no longer. Then Vernon stopped.
"Dudley told me, boy, about your little act of freakishness today! About how you disappeared from an alley with no other ways. I WILL NOT HAVE ANY FREAKISHNESS IN MY HOUSE!" He spoke the last sentence with such ferocity, that his mouth actually frothed. He seemed to get even more purple in the face as he listened to Harry cry.
WHAM
He punched him. He continued to punch him till a snap was heard and Harry howled in pain as a bone broke. He then picked him up by the scruff of his neck and tossed him into the wardrobe. Harry heard a click, as the door was locked. He heard his Uncle's angry footsteps, as he stomped above him, up the stairs.
Harry cradled his right hand. It was bent in an awkward direction it was never supposed to be in. He cried. He cried and cried until he could cry no more. Until all he could feel was the pain, the anger and the hate.
Harry lay there, when he felt it again.
The warmth that rose from deep within him. Soothing him, healing him. His wounds healed, broken bone mended and his skin stitched itself back together.
It was then that Harry realized what it was. Something he dared not think of in the Dursley household. Something he dared not imagine real.
Magic.
And with that he finally embraced the fact that he was different. Oh he was nothing like them. Those.. Those insects. He was something better than them. He would never bend to them. Never be afraid.
Never again.
And he had the ability to gain something he never had. To become something more. To make them afraid.
To gain power.
Darkness of the heart.