Yo! Guys, this is my first time writing, so please let me know how it goes; I'd appreciate your input.
oh! I nearly forgot I own neither Harry Potter nor any of its characters. I'm just a fan with much too much free time.
Don't worry, I'm finished here, so enjoy and leave a review.
SUNDAY, JUNE 16, 1991 :
The sun has just risen. The inhabitants of Little Whining were waking up to begin their day. This was likewise true for the occupants of No. 4, Privet Drive. On the surface, the family living there seemed to be entirely normal, yet this was far from the case.
A lady was seen strolling down the stairs inside the House, looking to be fresh out of bed. She was somewhere in her thirties. A bony woman with blonde hair and a long neck that she used to spy on her neighbors.
"Boy, you best get up if you don't want to fast today," she remarked as she reached the foot of the stairs, staring at the broom cupboard underneath the stairs. However, she did not receive a response since the intended recipient of her threats was not there. Now, why would she be waking up someone from a broom cupboard, especially a child from the looks of it? We already knew this wasn't your typical family.
" Boy, where have you gone?" When she couldn't find anyone in the cupboard, she yelled.
"I'm in the kitchen, aunt Petunia," a voice called out. The woman, now known as Petunia, entered the kitchen, where a boy stood on a stool, straining to reach the stove with a pan in hand.
" You best have it done quickly, boy, since my Diddykins would come down soon and he would be famished."
"Yes, aunt Petunia," he said.
It's strange that an 11-year-old child was living in a broom cupboard and making breakfast for his relatives, who didn't seem interested in lending a hand. But that was the case in this family; to learn more about it, perhaps we might look at the world through the boy's perspective.
HARRY POV :
EARLY MORNING THAT DAY :
Great Another day, I wonder whether anything remarkable will happen today; I really hope so. Living with folks like my relatives might make you want to do something other than listen to their whining all day. One would wonder why I was living with them rather than with my parents. Where are my parents? I have no idea where they are, or who they are for that matter. I, myself, frequently wonder about them. My Uncle did inform me that my parents had died, as well as how dreadful they were. I've long ago ceased believing my relatives when they mention anything concerning my parents.
I should probably quit wondering and get up before it gets too late. I get up and walk out of the broom cupboard that doubles as my bedroom. The wall clock reads 5:30 a.m.; it's early, but I should get some exercise done now as I'm already awake. I saw the streets were deserted as I walked out of the home, trying to put my cousin's shoes on in such a manner that my foot stayed in and did not come out of its numerous holes. Given the time, it is completely normal. I begin my daily run by taking the customary 5km loop around the neighborhood.
It was 6:00 when I returned, so I freshened up, put on some clothes that I got from my cousin, and enter the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. Even though I'm young, I'm a decent cook, you grow better at it when you do it every day for three years.
Soon after, I hear my aunt coming down the stairs, implying that the horsewoman has awakened. She does have a horse-like face, which makes me question why is it so? Could it be genetic? It might be, or perhaps someone did surgery on her when she was younger.
" Boy, you better get up if you don't want to fast today," she yelled. Should I answer and tell her I'm in the kitchen? Nah, let her waste some of her time; she already spends plenty of mine.
" Boy, where have you gone?" I'd best respond to her immediately or I'll be in trouble.
"I'm in the kitchen, aunt Petunia," I suppose that would be enough, but you never know. She was soon in the kitchen, intently watching me cook.
" You best have it done quickly, boy, since my Diddykins would come down soon and he would be famished."
"Yes, aunt Petunia," I said.
She presumably departed to wake up those lazy creatures who were also my relatives because there was nothing else to be said between us. In a half-hour, all three of my relatives were sitting at the dining table, filling themselves with breakfast I had prepared for them, as I watched. That was usual; I watched them eat and if anything was left over, it was for me. I doubt there will be much left for me after seeing how my cousin was eating; after all, today's dish was his favorite. I can always eat out later, but they don't need to know that.
" Dad!, my birthday is coming Sunday; how many presents will you get me?" Dudley, my overgrown cousin, began chatting while filling his mouth with bread, sending crumbs flying around the table. Absolutely unhygienic and disgusting, but I kept my feelings to myself since I didn't want to be punished for something so trivial.
"We'll get you as many as you want, sweetheart," Replied my uncle Vernon Dursley. Breakfast was quickly done, and I was left to clean up the mess they made.
"Clean this up and get out of the house, I'm going to have some guests," my aunt said over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen.
" Yes, aunt Petunia." Maybe my luck is good today because I can leave the house earlier than expected. I should probably be happy about leaving early, but I don't feel anything different; everything is the same as it usually is. I'm curious about what joy feels like because it's such a foreign concept to me.
After I finish cleaning the kitchen, I use the back door to avoid interacting with my relatives. As soon as I'm on the street, I make my way to the area's only Public Library. The library isn't crowded since only a few people come here on Sundays. The librarian gave me a smile, I tried to mimic her but I don't think it was a success. Well, this isn't the first time I've failed at this, so I'm not too bothered. It's not difficult to find a secluded corner; there's this one seat in the back behind the racks of books where no one comes even on the busiest days of the year.
After settling down at the bench, I pull notes from the backpack I was carrying and begin solving the advanced mathematics problems I'd been working on for the last week. This section of mathematics is difficult; I'm not sure why, but academics have never been an issue for me; in fact, they've been rather simple. My mind appears to be solving the problem in numerous ways at the same time.
I even conducted some studies on this and discovered that some individuals with ADHD can have multiple thought streams at the same time, but as far as I know, I do not have ADHD. I just had a lot of time on hand and nothing to do, as my relatives are not that interested in my life. So, the only thing that I could do was read.
My relatives despise me; I'm not sure why, but they do, and they're not hesitant to show it. I've seen it all, from beatings to starvation. I'm wondering whether that's why I grew up knowing nothing about love, hatred, grief, or happiness. Is this ever going to change? Will I ever learn what emotions are?
I once read in a book that emotions are what make us human. Is this to say that I can't call myself a human? Who knows, maybe I'll find answers eventually.
Since my relatives had neglected me, I had to fend for myself. Dudley, my cousin, and several of his pals would torment me. They liked neither studying nor reading, and the library is where both are done. To escape them most of my time was spent in the library. Spending that much time at the library became boring, so I began reading books in there to pass time. Much of what was stated went completely over my head at first, but as time passed, I began to comprehend the concepts discussed.
When it came to academics, there was yet another obstacle. If I obtain higher marks than my cousin, my relative would think I cheated, as there was no way I can be better than him. Even now, I recall that day and how they punished me. So, ever since, I've tried to remain under the radar of both my professors and my cousin hiding my knowledge.
I also came to the conclusion that the world is not fair to everyone especially not to the weak. Since then, I've worked hard not to appear weak or exhibit any signs of weakness to anyone. I had a great understanding of maths and physics. I was far ahead in these subjects than people of my age had any right to be. Quantum physics was a fascinating topic, after all, fascinating but quite hard to make head or tail of.
Since I was good at subjects that others often find difficult I made an earning out of it. I would complete assignments of higher classes for some cash that I used for my expenses. They left the assignment and money at a pre-determined location in the library and then collected it later after it was completed from the same location they dropped it. No one would know it was me completing the assignment this way. Obviously, I didn't make much money, but it was enough to cover some meager expenses and fill my stomach. I'd best finish solving these equations if I want to go practice later.
As I walked down the block, I noticed a woman playing with her child in the front yard of their house and a father playing catch with his son, who appeared to be having the time of his life. I'll never know if he was or not.
My destination was soon in sight; an old wooden home at the end of the street. In there an aged Japanese man who claimed to have been an assassin in his youth and is now retired. I'm not sure whether it's true, but he had to have known martial arts to a high degree to be able to teach like that. I didn't have to wait long after knocking on the door before I was let in.
"You're early," Master Kaito commented.
" I didn't have a lot to do." I didn't once I finished the problems I was working on.
" Well, come on, don't just stand there." I enter his house and proceed to the training room he has set up. Why does a man in his fifties need a training room full of blades and other kinds of weapons I don't even want to know.
I first met Master Kaito when I was seven years old. He helped me after a violent bullying session by Dudley. When he questioned why I didn't fight back, my response was simple: I couldn't, I was too weak. His following question was a test for me.
"Would you beat them as they beat you if you had the power to?" he had questioned. I preferred to live without too many complications.
" I won't go picking fights with them." He seemed to have liked my response since he began training me in martial arts the very following day.
The first lesson to improve my speed and stamina was enough to help me escape from Dudley and his crew. But I continued to learn anything he taught me so that I was no longer weak, helpless, and at the mercy of others.
" What will today's lesson be?" I inquired of him.
"I still can't believe you've already mastered enough moves to hold your own against a few fully grown guys. Anyway, today we'll start with weapons, so grab that hunting knife." He stated this while pointing to a knife on one of the walls.
Weapons training has been something I've been looking forward to for a long time, and it finally begins today.
" Shall we get started?"
KAITO POV
This kid sure is something. At his age, being able to take down 2-3 men in a head-on fight is unheard of. There are a few prodigies here and there, but none of this level. Now he has started weapons too, I just hope that I am not training some monster. Because such authority is dangerous. Especially given his inability to perceive emotions. Oh! Please, Kami, don't let him stray from his path. Pray and guide are the only things I can do.