A/n: Here we go for chapter two! Enjoy :D


Chapter 2

A New Start

Sooner or later, we are left to our own devices. It's a basic rule of life. We all know it, though we don't necessarily like to think about it. Some might be more eager to spread their own wings than others. But none thinks about it when they have barely started primary school.

With seven summers on his record, the feather-haired boy had never thought about such things. They had not even crossed his mind. He'd had no worries, other than trying to get his parent's attention or their approval, or how he would get out of eating his vegetables next time.

At first, it had seemed like he'd actually been pulled into a tragic ancient tale, like the original fairy tales he'd once found in the library. He was certain it must've been that. He had hoped for a few days. But as time stretched on, and he was being dragged from offices to foster parents, to institutions and group homes, the spark began to fade. As he found himself sleeping in a different bed every night, the possibility of there being a switch that he could use to turn back time evaporated.

While he waited for the next thing to happen, for the next ride to the next centre, he read his book again and again, but each time, skipping over the end and pretending the wise magician hadn't died. Harry wouldn't allow him to die. He had the power to decide that.

As he plunged back into the last story he'd read before his life had changed, he had the feeling he was going back to that moment. It almost felt like he'd find his mother and father down the stairs if he shut the book. So he didn't shut the book, and just savoured the idea that it could be true. He could make himself believe it was true.

"You're reading that same book again, Harry?" The blonde woman sitting behind the wheel of the car asked. Her name was Rebecca, a social worker who'd been assigned to Harry's case and had the responsibility to find him a more permanent home. It would be best if he could be placed before the new school year started, so that he could at least try and fit into his new school from the start.

The young boy sitting behind her nodded as he looked at her in the rear-view mirror. He hadn't said a word to her yet, even though she'd tried hard to make him communicate. It wasn't the first traumatized child Rebecca had had to deal with, but she was even more concerned about Harry. He was the first one she got who had lost both his parents at once and had seen his mother die in front of him.

Finally, after days of research, Rebecca had tracked down a family member: the mother's sister. It was a woman named Petunia Dursley. It had surprised her how hard it had been to even find someone. It was like the family had lived isolated for years. Even Harry hadn't been able to tell her if there were any grandparents, uncles or cousins. He only seemed to know the old woman, Mrs. Figg, and it was clear she would not be able to take care of the child.

It was a long drive to number four Privet Drive. It felt good for Rebecca to stretch her legs once arrived. She walked around the car to let Harry out. She decided they would come back to fetch his suitcase later. The first encounter was important. If Harry could not stay with his aunt, Rebecca didn't know if she could find him a permanent home anytime soon.

It had been hard enough to convince the woman on the phone, and she had been very reluctant to come by the closest agency office. Rebecca didn't like Mrs. Dursley very much, but she fervently hoped her heart would warm up once she got to know her sister's son. Harry was such a sweet and smart child, she could not imagine anyone willing to turn him away.

Rebecca let Harry keep his book in his hands. He didn't like to part with it. She then turned to the front door, took a deep breath and knocked.


"Don't you dare let it burn, boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed from behind his newspaper.

Harry was scared by that voice, and completely bewildered. He'd never cooked in his life. But as soon as he'd moved in with the Dursleys they'd ordered him to help make breakfast every morning, while his uncle sat at the table, reading, and his cousin Dudley played with his toys in the living room. Even after a week of practice, he hadn't managed to keep the bacon from burning yet. Uncle Vernon scolded him every time. But he never apologised afterwards. Neither uncle Vernon nor aunt Petunia came to his bed at night to kiss him gently. They yelled at him, they pushed him, they ordered him, and the broad head of the family had even hit him.

Never in his life had anyone hit him before. Harry didn't even understand why, he'd only used one of the toothbrushes in the bathroom because no one had given him one. Lily had told him to always brush his teeth. And so he would always brush his teeth, no matter how much it angered anyone else.

After having been deprived of breakfast because he'd burned the bacon once again, Harry returned to his room. It was a tiny place, just enough to fit a squeaky bed and an old closet. He had taken most of his clothes with him, a few toys, the few books he owned and his glasses. But Dudley had already broken his toys, and thrown one of his books out the window while it was raining. After that, Harry had made sure to hide his most precious book at the back of his closet, and only took it out to hug it at night. It was his link to the past, his link to his parents.

There was not much to do for the raven boy at number four Privet Drive. There was no one to play with him, take care of him. He didn't dare read his books for fear Dudley would take it away. There was one advantage to living with the Dursleys though. Harry could go out any time he wanted, unsupervised. In fact, they seemed to be happier when he did. And so, Harry found himself once again walking out of the house that morning, headed for the nearest park. Lily and James had never let him go out much, and certainly not alone. It was a newfound freedom he found he rather enjoyed.

Besides, he had to admit it. Rebecca had told him that it would be hard in the beginning, that it took time for someone to settle in a new environment, but Harry wasn't an idiot, even at seven. It had taken him much less than a week to understand this situation would never get better. It wasn't like he'd expected anything, he couldn't imagine being loved by anyone else than his parents, but the obvious dislike, or even disgust, of the Dursley family towards him had shocked him. He hated it there. He liked being away from them, and they were less aggressive towards him if he made himself invisible as much as he could.

After running around the neighbourhood, playing on the swings, and exploring the park all day long, Harry found he was ravenous by the time it was evening. He'd had no breakfast and no lunch. He had no choice but to go back and beg for dinner.

Aunt Petunia sniffed haughtily as she roughly deposited mashed potatoes, carrots and meat on Harry's plate. His portions were noticeably smaller than everyone else's, and he didn't really like anything that was served, but he was so incredibly hungry that he didn't complain and immediately started to scarf down everything.

"No bloody manners." Uncle Vernon muttered as he dug into his own pile of mashed potatoes and threw disapproving glances Harry's way.

Harry felt like he was being stabbed every time the Dursleys criticized or insulted him. But he kept his mouth shut and ate as quickly as he could so he could disappear to his room for the night. Before he could put his plan into action however, the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia muttered something that made her opinion of people interrupting dinner clear enough. She snapped her fingers right in front of Harry's eyes and ordered him to go open the door.

Harry sat still on his chair for a moment, staring at the aunt he'd never seen before a week ago. He didn't understand why they were making him do everything, and why Dudley could stay in his chair and eat lots of meat and gravy as he sat grinning at Harry. He always found it funny when Harry was being put down. Dudley even joined in, and was rewarded by his parents when he did.

Why?

There was no other word in the raven boy's mind. Why did they hate him so much?

"Didn't you hear your aunt, boy? Go! Now!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Being more than four times his size, Harry immediately skittered away from the huge monster and ran to the door. A sudden thought flickered in his mind as he opened it. What if I ran out that door…and didn't come back?

It was just a momentary thing, and it was gone by the time his eyes fell on the kind and familiar face of Rebecca.

"Hey, Harry!" She greeted him with a smile, interpreting his coming to open the door as a sign he'd began adjusting to the family's home and customs already. "I've come to bring you something you might want to keep. Can I come in?"

Harry wasn't sure. He didn't know if his aunt and uncle wanted him to let her in. In the end, he concluded that they would be angry with him either way, so he shrugged and stepped aside to let her in. She ruffled his hair as she passed. Harry felt a stab of pain and grief as he remembered the two people who always used to do that.

Rebecca apologized profusely to the Dursleys for interrupting their evening meal. Enough, it seemed, to calm some of their irritation. Diplomacy was an important skill in her branch of work.

She didn't stay long though. As she'd said, she'd only come to give Harry something. She took him aside in the living room and sat him on the couch before pulling an envelope out of her pocket.

"This is for you, Harry." Was all she said as she handed it to him.

Harry took it hesitantly, and carefully opened it. Inside were pictures, seven of them; one for each year of his life. In some he was a baby in his mother's arms, in others he was playing with his father, and others held the three of them together, smiling at the camera. The only one he could remember was the last one. It was his seventh birthday on July 31st, only three weeks earlier. His mother had taken the picture, and his father was next to Harry as he blew the candles on a beautiful home-made cake.

Harry's fingers tentatively traced over his father's face, then over his own in the picture. It was the first time he saw them both next to each other. The first time he really looked at his father, and tried to imprint every detail in his brain. The first time he noticed how much they resembled each other.

There was an unbearable, searing pain in Harry's chest. He could no longer breathe. He hastily put the photos back into the envelope and hugged it against the spot where it hurt. He felt tears coming up behind his glasses, but tried his hardest to hold them back. He didn't want to cry in front of the Dursleys.

Rebecca's eyes filled with pity and empathy for the little raven-haired boy. There was nothing more she could do for him though. She had other children to care for, to find a home for. It was the boy's family's work to comfort him and support him now.

Rebecca rubbed Harry's back and went back to the kitchen. She explained her concern for Harry to the Dursleys, advising them to take care of their nephew through this most difficult time. The Dursleys nodded stiffly, but kept their lips glued together. The last thing they wanted was for a nosy social worker to tell them how to raise a child, especially that child.

They followed Rebecca back to the living room, but by that time, the boy had vanished back to his room. There was nothing left for her to do than to say goodbye to the Dursleys and leave Harry to his new life.

The raven had immediately hidden the precious envelope, for fear it would be taken away from him. It was only at night, when he was certain he could hear the Dursley's snores, that he crept to the closet and took out his book, in which he'd slid the envelope. He tiptoed quietly to the window to look at the photos in the lights from the lampposts. A piece of paper slipped out when he did. It fell to his feet.

Harry frowned for a moment, his heart beating fast. Was this…from his parents?

His fingers trembled as he reached for the note and unfolded it. His heart dropped.

Dear Harry,

Here are some pictures I collected from albums I found in your parent's possession.

I could not take them all. I hope you will like the ones I picked out for you.

I'm afraid the rest of them will be thrown away. Though I will try and convince Mrs. Figg to keep them in storage, if you ever desire to get them back.

I would also like to wish you luck for your first day at school next week. Everything has been taken care of. Though your uncle and aunt insisted that you attend a different school than your cousin, I hope you will make friends quickly.

Work hard and do your best. Your future is in your hands, Harry.

Rebecca

It wasn't from his parents. No explanation for their disappearance, no precious window on the past.

Harry looked at the pictures again. How he missed them both.

A tear fell on the top picture and he hastily wiped it off with his sleeve. Then he put the pictures away in the book and lay it on his bed. He'd begun to understand the way of life. He'd come to understand that in order to get through this, in order to survive, he would have to lock the memories away. He would keep them close, but locked up.

He took a deep breath in an effort to blink his tears away. Then he brought his attention back to Rebecca's note. He was surprised to feel regretful that he'd never spoken to her. She had been a nice person. He would much rather have lived with her than where he was now. It felt like he'd missed a chance. He would never see Rebecca again. He was stranded in this hostile place.

The nightly raven read the note a second time before going back to his bed and taking off his glasses. The new school year would indeed start in a few days. This was not at all how he'd imagined it would happen. Not in the least. But he tried to see the bright side of it: he wouldn't be stuck with his cousin. In the short week he'd spent here, he'd come to absolutely loathe Dudley, who made fun of him in front of his friends, neighbours, everyone. He'd been terrified that the same would happen at school. He didn't have to worry about that anymore.

The raven lay on his back and stared at the patch of light on his ceiling, trying hard not to think about the ceiling he used to see before going to sleep, after getting good night kisses from…

He shook his head to clear away those thoughts, and began staring at the ceiling again, while he concentrated on emptying his mind.

Yes, it would be a long night.


Not only that night was long, but the three following nights too, not to mention the days, which crawled by at a slug's race tempo. Harry was both anxious and eager to start school. It would give him something to do, a place to be during the day other than in the park or in the company of his uncle, aunt and dear cousin. But at the same time, it was a new school. At his previous school, he'd had some trouble making friends. Firstly, because he'd skipped a grade when they noticed he could read and write better than a nine-year old, and secondly, because he could never attend birthday parties, or play dates, or school trips, or sleepovers. He wasn't involved in his classmates' lives outside of school.

Despite him being younger than everyone in his grade, he'd managed to get along with most of them; though he wasn't sure if he would've called them 'friends'.

And now, after all that trouble and effort, he had to start over. He wasn't sure if he felt up to it. 'I hope you will make friends quickly.' Rebecca had written in the note. Just those words put pressure on him already.

Harry lay awake all night on the eve of September 1st, and jumped out of bed the moment his alarm went off. He tried not to think about how Lily had woken him with a plate of pancakes, on September 1st the previous year. In this house, he had to take care of himself. He was a quick learner.

Aunt Petunia gave him some stale bread for breakfast. It was all right though; the raven's stomach was tight with nervousness. He couldn't get much down anyway.

While his uncle and aunt drove Dudley to school, and others parent's did the same for their children, Harry was sent off with a slip of paper, on which Petunia Dursley had written the school's address. This was a setback. The raven had counted on a little more guidance. He had no clue where Charlton Lane was. If he'd known he would have to go by himself, he'd have asked for a map so he could look it up in advance.

Harry gripped the straps of his old schoolbag tightly. A kind of anger, or rebellion was bubbling up in his gut. The Dursleys would do anything to make his life miserable? Fine! He thought. He was determined to find that school, and to live any way he wanted, despite what his despicable family had to say or do.

The small but brave raven marched forward at a healthy pace, and soon reached a busy road, packed with morning traffic. He'd found this road during his daily wanderings, and had not dared venture further, in fear of getting lost.

Today however, he had no choice. He stepped into the road and decided to follow a hunch, and go right. He felt in inside, it was a good choice. Wherever he was going, it was the right way. Any demon, monster or other creature blocking his way would have to deal with Harry the adventurer. He had tamed Mrs. Figg's sphinxes! That was no trifle!

He managed to keep his moral high, for about fifteen minutes. By then, he'd wandered a long way along the road, and his feet had started to slow. Doubt made its way into his mind. He had nearly decided to stop and turn around, when he heard a loud bustle behind him, resonating above the traffic noise. Harry turned around and saw a pack of redheads moving his way, advancing like a herd of bulls.

Harry jumped aside to let them pass. There was a plump, motherly woman leading a young girl and boy, about Harry's age, by the hand. Behind her walked two older boys who were exact mirror images of each other. All the members had flaming red hair. The twins were sniggering and throwing unidentified projectiles at the younger girl and boy. It made the boy's ears go the same colour as his hair, but the girl turned around and threw herself at her older brothers. The woman had to pull them apart.

"Fred and George Weasley! I will not have you all late for your first day because of your incessant teasing and joking around!" She bellowed at the twins. Then she turned her irritated eyes at the girl. Her voice softened when she addressed her. "Ginny, you're doing a great job at keeping your idiots of brothers in place, but remember you cannot do it at school." She said with a severe expression, while a tiny smile played around her lips. Harry had seen such expression on his father's face whenever he'd scolded him for doing something bad, but was secretly proud of his son. He'd never really paid attention to it. It was only when you began missing those things that you noticed them.

This is my chance! Harry thought as he burst forward on his short and skinny legs to catch up with the herd. There was a good chance they were headed for the same school, since they were on foot, and even if they weren't, he thought the energetic woman might know where Charlton Lane was.

"Excuse me." He said tentatively as he reached them, but no one turned. No one had heard. "Excuse me!" Harry tried again, louder this time.

Only the small girl looked around. When she noticed Harry, she pulled on her mother's sleeve and pointed towards the black-haired follower.

"Excuse me," Harry repeated once more, smiling sheepishly in apology. He felt extremely nervous. He'd never addressed a stranger like that in his life. His voice was stuck in his throat for a moment. But the surprised and expectant expressions of all five people in front of him made his tongue come loose again. "Uh, I'm looking for my school. It's on Charlton Lane?" His fingers clutched the straps on his shoulders. He noticed they were slightly slippery.

"Of course, dear!" The red-haired woman immediately exclaimed and pulled Harry right into the middle of the herd. "We're going the same way, come on with us then. But hurry, those two muffins," she nodded towards the twins "have gotten us late."

Harry was overwhelmed by the sudden inclusion. He'd asked a simple question and now he was half-running to keep up in the midst of a red sea. The woman had taken one of his hands, and had put the other in the red-eared boy's grip. He smiled timidly at Harry, and Harry smiled back. Both his hands felt warm and comfortable.

He glanced to the woman's other side, but the girl was looking fixedly at her feet. She was too shy it seemed.

"What's your name, little man? Are you new in the area?" The woman asked while they hurried on.

"I'm Harry, madam." The raven answered, remembering the manners his own mother had taught him. "I moved here about a week ago. Thank you for helping me." He didn't dare look up as he talked.

"You're welcome, Harry." The plump woman responded warmly, pleasantly surprised by the young boy's politeness. "Couldn't your parent's take you?"

Harry flinched, and tried to disguise it as a cough. No one seemed to notice. "No, they're busy." He answered automatically. He had prepared no other answers. He had not yet considered that people would ask those kinds of questions.

"Oh my, they must have important jobs if they can't bring their own kid to school on the first day." She seemed displeased, but refrained from openly criticizing. "How old are you, dear?"

"Seven." Harry replied curtly.

"Oh, you'll be in the same year as my little Ginny then." She said with enthusiasm as she swiftly put one of the young girl's tresses back behind her ear.

"Actually," Harry countered shyly, "I've skipped a year."

All of them turned to look at him. The woman seemed surprised.

"Well, you'll be with Ron then. My little Ronnie's eight now."

The twins behind them burst into uncontrollable giggles as they heard Ron's nickname. Harry felt embarrassed for the red-eared boy. He threw a glance his way and noticed the boy was gaping at him with his mouth open, clearly impressed. He also noticed that Ron's hand was very slippery in his. He hadn't heard a word from Ron yet, but he decided he could come to like him.

Moving along like a swift wave, it wasn't long before the herd reached the school gate. Luckily, everyone was still running around on the playground. They weren't late.

The plump woman hugged each of her kids in turn, kissing them everywhere she could reach. The twins (whom she called Fred and George, though Harry had no idea which was which) reacted in disgust and ran away to meet one of their friends. "Lee!" They called and waved enthusiastically as they were reunited after a long summer holiday.

The girl, Ginny, was next. She was much more compliant, but she was still eager to get away and mingle into the crowd to go find her own friends.

The younger boy, Ron, seemed embarrassed, but not displeased by his mother's attention.

Harry was about to walk away while they were still saying goodbye when the woman turned to him and unexpectedly pulled him into the tightest hug he'd had in weeks. He nearly lost his glasses in shock.

"You're such a skinny little thing!" The woman commented as she let go of him again. "You must eat more, Harry." She frowned. "Come by the Weasley house one of these days, I'll make some nice treacle tart." And with those words, she went back the way they'd come, waving until she was out of sight.

This only left Harry and Ron at the gate, surrounded by other parent's parting with their children. They looked awkwardly at each other. Ron's ears still hadn't gotten rid of the reddish glow.

"You…don't have any friends over there?" Harry asked as he nodded towards the playground, where the other Weasley's had disappeared.

"Nah." Ron shrugged. It was the first word that had come out of his mouth. "My friends, Dean and Seamus, moved away over the summer."

"Oh."

"So," the Weasley boy began tentatively, "you really skipped a grade?"

Harry wondered why he seemed to care so much. He simply nodded in response.

"Whoa, that's so cool, mate." The boy smiled widely. "I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley." He extended his hand. He seemed to be doing better now that his mum and siblings weren't around anymore.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." The raven replied, and shook his new friend's hand.


Yes! Finally, I've started introducing Harry to his friends. I can start up the gang :)

What do you think of little Harry?