Harry James Potter smirked as he let the ball of light disappear before he noted down the results in the battered old journal he had bought secondhand using money he had stolen from Vernon. It had been four years, four miserable and painful years since he had found himself living with the Dursleys, and after the way Vernon had beat him badly, he had learnt to keep his mouth shut although, in the privacy of the Cupboard under the Stairs, he still wondered and cried to himself where his parents were and why he'd been left here, and over the years Harry's hopes that he would see his parents again had just gradually worn down.

To say Harry despised the Dursleys was an understatement; after the first beating, he had been afraid of them, and their manner had made it increasingly obvious to him they were not going to change their minds about him, but he had been a child and he had hoped they would never do it again, but when he had been beaten again….and again….and again, Harry had gotten the message well and proper.

The Dursleys hated him and there was nothing he could do about it, and his attempts of getting them to love him had failed dismally so he had stopped trying. Harry was a smart boy and a quick learner. The lessons were quickly learnt. Harry had been under their roof for four miserable bloody years, and each day had proven to be a trial in survival. He was starved and regularly beaten, and he was overworked and forced to survive on scraps of food which no young child should ever be given, and he had never once seen a doctor or a dentist, so his health was sometimes a worry for him.

Another problem was school.

Because he had a good memory and knew his own name, the Dursleys had punished him for the stupid reason that he knew who he was; the implication was obvious, the Dursleys had been wishing he had been given to them at a much younger age when he was just a baby without any knowledge of who he was. But since he had come to them at the age of three, the Dursleys had wished he could go to the school not aware of who he was.

But the biggest problem with the school was the fact he was not allowed to excel. He had tried that before in the early days when he had been hopeful that the Dursleys would accept him, but after two years of being a good student he had received beating after beating and despite the fact Harry was a good student who quickly learnt all the lessons, he had learnt the hard way never to upstage Dudley, his idiot of a cousin. Harry often laughed at his cousin more than feared him since Dudley was so stupid.

Academically, Dudley had never beaten Harry. Not once, and he'd long ago convinced himself it was never going to happen. Petunia and Vernon could both say whatever they liked, the chances were Dudley would never amount to anything or get a well-paying job. Petunia and Vernon (Harry would never be caught out calling them 'Uncle' Vernon or 'Aunt' Petunia) had deluded themselves into thinking Dudley was either a late developer, or he was just rambunctious, or he would one day be a famous doctor. It was so likely Harry genuinely would be surprised if anything lucky did happen to Dudley when he was older. Personally, Harry had a feeling one day Dudley would be 30 and he would still live here, at Number 4 Privet Drive, and he would be so fat, so finite, that the world would just pass him by.

The moment Harry turned five, he had been moved from the basic and menial chores to doing more complex ones.

How was he supposed to know how to cook if nobody showed him how to work the cooker? It was a miracle he was a quick learner since without that skill he would have likely been beaten. He had learnt how to cook the Dursleys' food for them two years ago, and he had become their cook. Despite his Aunt Petunia's insistence that he didn't burn anything, Harry had mastered how to cook so it never happened.

While it was up for debate, his fifth birthday had heralded a year of total hell. Not only was he given more responsibilities that would see him receiving another beating if he wasn't careful, but Vernon had come up with the creative punishment of locking him inside the Cupboard Under the Stairs, and sometimes he would combine the punishment with starvation for long periods, so he had needed to learn how to be creative. Starvation was one of the Dursleys most favourite punishments, and Harry was frightened that, one day, he was going to be punished for something he had never done, and he would find himself locked in the cupboard for weeks and weeks without eating more than a crumb of food per day, so he'd needed to find a way out. The good news was he had been practicing using his powers after he had learnt they were triggered by emotions, and once he had mastered the basics, it was easy for him to unlock the door to the stupid cupboard and he was able to sneak some cash out of the house, and go to the shops and stock up on food like fruit and sandwiches, and even some water.

At first, he hadn't liked stealing or breaking the law, but as time passed it was the only way he had of avoiding starvation. Sometimes he would even break into the garden further down the road, there was a nice little way of getting inside so he could steal some apples, pears and plums. Each one of them was more than enough for him to gorge on and keep him going.

Besides, the older he became and the more cynical he became, Harry realised that nothing he would ever do would make the Dursleys like him, so what was the point of trying to prove them wrong?

They seemed determined to make him out to be a criminal, judging from the things they had said to their precious neighbours. Harry had been given to the neighbours as a kind of unpaid servant, and to say he despised them was an understatement as well.

His only refuge was the library. It was quiet in there, and unless he was forced then Dudley would never step foot inside. When he had been taught to read, Harry had been fascinated with books, but he had never been allowed to touch the books or magazines inside the house, so he had gone in search of the public library in Little Whinging. He had gone in and asked where the children's books were, and within minutes he was engrossed in a copy of James and the Giant Peach. After that, he had gone back again and again whenever he found the opportunity.

Over time he moved away from Roald Dahl to authors like Jules Verne, HG Wells, Rudyard Kipling, and Herman Melville. His love for books had been so great the kindhearted old librarian had once offered him a library card but Harry had decided against it. He had been with the Dursleys long enough to know full well that if they caught him with anything that made him happy, then they would destroy it. He couldn't let a book be torn to shreds.

Now he was seven years old, Harry was quickly seeing that remaining hope just fade all the time. He had also lost faith that his uncles (not Vernon) would come and get him away from here, but he had never stopped thinking about them.

At the same time, he had quickly learnt never to talk about the stranger with the snake-like face and the red eyes; the Dursleys did not like anything they called 'freakish,' and considering Harry was as big a freak as they could get, and such talk would result in another beating.

Holding out his hand again, Harry concentrated and focused on creating a ball of light, visualising the ball in his hand. A small sparkle of light appeared in the blackness of the Cupboard. Once it had appeared, Harry concentrated on making it slightly brighter before he then started concentrating on making it grow. Slowly it grew from a sparkle hovering in his hands, growing until it passed the size of a teaspoon head all the wall to the size of a tennis ball before he wished the ball of magical light to go away.

Contrary to what the Dursleys liked to say or believe, Harry was far from stupid, and since he had been three years old at the time he had arrived here at the Dursleys, he knew one critical thing; magic was real. The Dursleys had constantly drilled it into his head magic did not exist, and he was a freak. But it was impossible for those 'lessons' to sink into his mind since the strange events which happened around him constantly reminded him magic existed.

Once at school, a child had taken a pencil away from him and he had been upset about it, but the pencil and come back to him. Another time Dudley and his gang of bullies had tried chasing him around the playground and he had found himself on the top of the school roof and he'd needed to be taken down again. Eventually after keeping a diary and desperate to defend himself against the Dursleys, Harry learnt that his magic was directed by emotion, and he had begun experimenting. Harry had spent a lot of his time in the Little Whinging public library, and the kind-hearted elderly librarian there, Miss Heriot had been amazed by how he had soaked up every single book he had read, moving quickly from the children's books to the more adult novels and the non-fictional books had even brought some books over to him, and if there was one thing many of those same books had done for him and his mind, it was to exercise it.

As he took refuge in the written word and enjoyed the fictional worlds he read, Harry found the different realities shown in them were so different, so much better than the real world. They sent Harry's developing mind a comforting message. He was not alone. There were people in the world who saw things differently, but at the same time in the real world, he was taken by surprise by just how mundane the real world was.

Inspired by the books in between his experiments, particularly the Stephen King novels featuring Carrie White and Charlie in Firestarter, which gave him many ideas for experiments, Harry even began writing small stories about different worlds, and since three of his favourite books were the J.R.R Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy, he had an interest in magic, and so many of the stories he had written and subsequently hidden in the Cupboard were books about wizards and witches, and trolls, elves, dragons and phoenixes, written out of spite more than anything else.

Turning on the light so he could better see the result, Harry closed his eyes and pictured himself being lifted…slowly he felt himself being lifted as though he were a hot air balloon. Slowly as he was lifted into the air, Harry felt the urge to yell in delight, and only just managed to hold in the urge since he knew the Dursleys would beat him.

He wasn't particularly fond of Superman. There was just something about how the comics were drawn out and he didn't like the holier-than-thou mindset behind it, but he did like the way Superman flew without any kind of aid. And it struck him that it was likely possible for his magic to somehow be manipulated so he could lift himself.

As he hovered in the space between the cot and the roof, Harry had to use his hands to stop himself from going further up, and he was left grinning. Not bad for a first attempt, and the theory was sound; it would need a little more patience and some more time in a more open space, but he had just proven to himself it was possible to fly, and there seemed to be no limit to what he could do. Harry only hoped he could replicate Spider-Man's wall-crawling power, and maybe even his agility and strength by channelling his magic into his body. If it was possible, he'd have to be careful. He didn't want to crawl up the side of a building and then see if he could spin a web, only to fall to his death as gravity asserted its hold on his body.

Xxxx

Harry grunted as the force of the blow sent him to the ground. Stars appeared in his eyes and he fought to regain his concentration, but the momentary daze made it hard to focus.

"You think you're funny, aren't you, freak?" Matthew Hicks snapped at him. "Telling my sister to go away?"

Harry didn't bother replying. Everyone knew that for some insane reason completely beyond the realm of human understanding, Matthew wanted to join Dudley's gang of thugs, and he thought beating up Dudley's cousin was the way to go about it. In that sense, it might just work, but Harry knew Matthew was merely trying to fit in and he thought being in Dudley's gang would set him on the path of being higher in the school's hierarchy.

Personally, Harry doubted it would ever happen. Matthew was too smart to be a member of Dudley's gang. Dudley preferred boys who were thick, large and very, very, very stupid. Matthew was smarter than Dudley's gang, he was just trying to fit in.

More often than not, Matthew's sister was roped into the idiot's schemes. Harry didn't like either of the siblings. Where Matthew was trying to suck up to Dudley and those above them all, Fiona was more interested in becoming the uncontested top student in the year. Harry hated her because, for some reason which escaped him, the Hicks siblings had an instant dislike for him but where Matthew wanted to become another member of Big D's gang, Fiona was more subtle.

It had not taken long for Fiona to discover Harry was the top student in his class, which he mercifully did not share with Dudley which was a good thing since he was able to control how much information about himself left the classroom, and she'd been trying to undermine that ever since. She'd done it by accusing him of cheating, and it had gotten Harry into a lot of trouble although he was sure the teacher was giving him the benefit of the doubt since she knew he did his work and it was nothing like any of the work done by any of the others. But that hadn't stopped her from dropping one or two hints for Dudley to hear, and it had gotten him punished by the Dursleys. Harry hated the Hicks' and he just wanted them to get a life and leave him alone.

A few more punches later, and miraculously the bell rang and every student was called back into the school. Harry followed them back inside as well, cursing the teachers once more proving how useless they were. He cleaned himself off in the bathroom before he went to class, and he ignored Fiona, who sent him a smug look he seethed with repressed rage while he tried to concentrate and not let his magic react. The last thing he needed was his magic to act up now.

Not wanting to go immediately back to Privet Drive after the day was over, Harry waited until everyone had left and he made sure the Hicks siblings walked out of the school first before he headed out of the gates. He headed straight to the library, knowing he would need a few minutes to calm himself down. When he got to the library, Harry was immediately greeted by Miss Heriot.

"Hello, Harry," the old woman smiled. She had heard so many things about the Potter boy, but Harry was nice from what she had seen.

Harry tried his best to be his usual self but his anger was bleeding through his self-control, still, he tried to be polite. "Hello, Miss Heriot," he said.

The old woman spotted the bruise on Harry's face. "What happened to your face?"

Harry gently touched the bruise, holding in the flinch. "I got into another fight."

"Your cousin again?" Miss Heriot was positive something was wrong with the Dursleys.

"No, someone else," Harry smiled at her while he tried to think of a way she could leave him alone. He didn't like pity and many of the residents in Little Whinging couldn't do anything. "It's okay," he said, and he walked off towards his corner. He wasn't in the mood to read any of the adult books, he wanted something a bit more carefree. As he quickly searched the shelves he found a new book, a copy of The Demon Headmaster. Harry had heard of this book, he had just never read it. And after he'd pulled it off the shelf and opened it and begin reading after ten minutes, it wasn't long before he had the basics of the story in his mind.

As he read through the part of the story where Dinah was being hypnotised by the Headmaster for the first time, Harry couldn't help but be intrigued. He had come across mind control in other books, but never like this…

Could he do the same thing? It was plausible, but he was uncertain how to go about it.