"Hey freak, guess what?" Dudley grinned.

Dudley's gang of friends stood beside him as Harry stood by the park fence. He peered up at Dudley through half lidded eyes.

"We've thought of a new game."

Dudley's grin said it wasn't one Harry would like.

"We're going to call it Harry-hunting."

Harry was already running before his cousin could reach for him. He was fast for his age, and much faster then his overweight cousin. He was bounding away from the park to the small patch of woods as quick as a deer before any could catch him. He could hide up a tree or something there.

.--.

Harry looked at the ground from the school roof. He had been running from Dudley and wished to be away. Now here he was on the roof. He though for a long moment. Then he focused on a spot on the ground. He focused hard and wished to be there. Suddenly there was a pressured feeling and he was there. He looked thoughtful a moment. Then his lips spread in an interested/twisted smile.

.--.

Harry pumped his legs and felt the swing speed up. Soon he was arching for the sky. He felt a jolt as gravity pulled him back. He leaned forwards then straightened out and soared higher. Higher. Higher. The swing was as high as it could get. At the highest peak he pushed off. He was free. For a moment all that mattered was the expansion of blue sky and the wind in his face. His breath caught at the thought of freedom. He felt his heart grow light. Then he was falling. His expression became blank again and he used the 'power' to slow himself down, so he floated to the ground almost like a feather. As he touched down gently he looked back up at the sky. He wasn't free. Not yet.

.--.

He cradled his arm to his body and looked at the wet ground silently. He stayed don his knees on the wet grass, hunched over slightly so his face looked down into a puddle. Through the ripples he saw his own emotionless face. The water ran down his face like tears. He hadn't cried since he was a baby. He wasn't now. Little could make him cry these days and a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder was like a pinprick to him. He reached up with his good hand and pressed against his shoulder. With a sharp pop it popped back into place. He snapped the broken arm into the right angle also and held it back to his body again. Dirt streaked his pale skin and his eyes looked haunted. He reached deep within himself to the energy he always felt and pulled with his will. He felt a wave of calm energy wash over him and immediately his arm was better, still sore but no longer broken. All the new scars on his arm also vanished. Harry stayed in the rain, staring into the puddle.

.--.

Harry gazed at the store in curiosity; Count D's Pet Shop. He glanced back and saw his relatives entering a Chinese restaurant. They would be a while. He slipped down the small stone steps and came to an intricate wood and iron door. He opened it and slid in shutting it softly behind him. He found himself in a room full of cages and tanks. There was also a set of chairs and couches. Animals were everywhere. He walked in towards the couch and sat down right next to a large panther. The panther looked down at him. He just looked up at it with his large green eyes. It gave a snort and curled up again.

"Ah, a customer."

He looked up at a distinct Asian man in traditional clothes, with odd colored eyes and short-ish hair.

"I'm D. Can I help you?" The man asked.

Harry gave him an unreadable look. The man looked slightly curious now.

"Ah, just browsing. You are free to look around."

Harry stood and set off to look around, ignoring the man's eyes. He could already tell the man wasn't completely human. He came to a large room with a snake on the door. He stepped in to find it divided into large sections which held numerous snakes. He walked past a few before stopping at one. It held only one snake. The snake was about three feet in length. It was a deep, deep maroon, almost black. Its eyes were silver. It looked up at him and tasted the air.

:Hello.: Harry said.

The snake blinked.

:Hello?: It returned questioningly.

:You are very beautiful.:

The snake raised its head slightly, flickering its tongue out.

:Why thank you.:

Harry leaned against the small glass railing and closed his eyes. He reached out and brushed the snake's mind with his 'Power'. It was an energy in him he had discovered he could do almost anything with. He felt the snake's content seep into his mind and relaxed slightly. He could almost feel how happy the snake was about being warm and full. He basked in the feeling a moment before pulling from the snake's consciousness. His eyes opened to find the snake wrapping around his body. He allowed it, liking the feel of the smooth scales over his skin.

:I think you are beautiful too. As far asss humanssss go.: It hissed.

Harry smiled just slightly and sat down on the ground, leaning against the railing, the snake wrapped comfortably around him. Harry closed his eyes again feeling a tinge of happiness well in him. The snake rested his head in front of Harry's.

:You're lonely.: It stated.

:Very.: Was all Harry said.

:Take me home with you. I ssshall be your friend.:

Harry wished he could. He really did.

:I can't. My relativesss would kill you. I would not want that.:

The snake seemed to peer at him a moment.

:My name isss Ne.:

:And mine isss Harry.:

The snake rested its head on his shoulder and for about five minutes Harry just relaxed in its presence. Finally he stood. He gently allowed the snake to slide back into its home.

:Maybe we will meet again.: The snake hissed.

:I would like that.: Harry said smiling once before walking off.

He found his way back to the door and found the owner D there. D watched him with a smile.

"We hope to see you as a customer again someday."

Harry didn't question the 'we'. He looked around and then nodded and walked out. Through the cheery paint and relaxed air he had spotted the morbid smirks and the fake pleasantries and he liked it.

.--.

Harry watched the small bird struggle in the water. He sat at the edge of the fountain and just watched. He tuned out the laughter of his cousin over on the playground with his aunt and watched the tiny bird struggle to get out of the water. It wasn't succeeding. He suddenly heard his aunt screech at him and knew it was time to go. He had five minutes left; the time it took his aunt to catch his cousin. He reached out to the struggling bird and pushed it under the water. A minute later he pulled his hand out and the bird floated to the top, dead. He pulled it from the water and examined the claw marks on its breast. Blood and water pooled on his hand.

He looked to the cat waiting beside him, not having wanted to jump in the water after its escaped prey. He tossed it to the cat and it caught it before trotting off, tail in the air. Harry looked back down at his hand. The blood was such a nice color. Even when watered down. It looked much nicer then his own blood as it spilled over his hand. He dipped his hand back in the water washing the blood away. He briefly thought on why he had drowned the bird. The claw marks would not have killed it or even hindered. He looked back to the water. Then he stood and walked off a smile playing over his lips.

.--.

He watched them burn with blank eyes. All the school work he had pretty much ever done, all the library books he had out at the moment. It all burned in the fire place as Dudley and Vernon roasted marshmallows. He wouldn't be able to go to the library anymore. He couldn't pay for the books nor could he explain what had happened to them. He couldn't go to just read either, the librarians would recognize him and question about the books. That wasn't all his school work or belongings through. There was a loose floorboard in his cupboard. His paintings and small keepsakes would be in there including a book from one of his teachers and a set of pencil crayons.

.--.

The fire in his hand seemed so nice and warm. He huddled in on himself even more as he held the fireball in one hand, lighting up his face and heating him up with the intense heat of a white flame. He was careful not to bring it to close to the tree whose roots he was huddle in. He gazed at the fire before gazing around at the white covered ground and tree. He looked down the street at the houses besides the park and small woods and saw all the homes filled with happy people and light. It looked so warm and happy. His aunt and uncle never wanted him home at Christmas.

Harry shivered again and extinguished the flame. So he could shift hands. He pulled the tattered coat tightly around himself and tried to concentrate. He could see it in his mind. Long rippling back fur, tall pointed ears, sharp teeth, emerald eyes. It looked at him and howled. He felt a tingle as he felt his body change slowly. Soon he was a small black wolf, curled in a ball at the base of the tree. He exhaled, feeling so much warmer with the fur. He was drawn into a comfortable sleep, sharp claws and teeth ready in an instant if he needed them.

.--.

Fifth grade was very dull. Either he was brilliant or all the kids in his class were mentally challenged. He opted for both. He gazed about the class room and felt pressed in by all sides. Kids were happily singing the French song with their teacher, their French lesson for the day. Harry stayed silent in his desk at the back and looked down at the paper he was writing on. No advanced books for him to read either. Nothing from the school library suited him. He looked up as he felt a crumple of paper hit his head and looked up to see Dudley making a face. Harry just stuffed the paper into his desk to throw out later, not bothering to read the childish taunt written on it. He went back to writing.

.--.

He gazed at the thick parchment in his hands. No one used parchment anymore. He slid the letter addressed to himself into his shirt before taking the rest to uncle Vernon. When his uncle had it he returned to his cupboard. He held up a finger and it lit with a small white glow. He ripped the seal off and opened the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

You have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please send your reply no later then August the 15th.

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

'Magic.' His mind whispered. That would certainly explain his abilities. He pulled a notebook and pen from under the floorboards of the cupboard and wrote a reply. He then held up the parchment and in a flash it was burned to a crisp. He stood and slipped from his cupboard heading outside. He found an owl sitting on the back fence.

"You brought the letter?" he asked.

It gave a hoot. He held up his reply. It swooped over and grabbed it before flying off. He turned to the house and stepped in. he found his aunt and uncle sitting at the table. Dudley was at a friend's place. His uncle scowled at him as he leaned on the table with both hands.

"What do you want Boy?!" He bristled.

"Tell me everything you know of Hogwarts and magic."

They paled.

"N-now see here boy! There's no such thing! And we have no reason to take such bad manners from you!" He uncle said rising.

Harry lifted a hand and in the snap of a finger it was covered in flames casting shadows across his face. He gave a twisted smirk as their faces stretched with terror. It felt so nice looking at their terrified faced. It was time for him to step up now.

"Oh, but dear uncle, I believe you do."

.--.

End of Chapter 2.