Heyah! Second chapter here, seeing the home life of our little saint. Special thanks to Lakewalker for his review of the first chapter!

I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

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Harry Potter knew he was different. Being born to serve his family, he knew to be humble. Being intelligent, he knew his potential. Being a slave, he knew he had no freedom.

Harry woke up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready for this day to be over. His birthdays were always the worst, his chores were more severe, his punishments more cruel, his aunt and uncle gleefully reminded him of his place. He knew he was different—a freak. Understanding this was the first step to accepting that the world was unfair./

Bitterness could have overtaken him, making him hate, making him want to be cruel. But Harry was kind. He was too kind for his own good, protecting others from his cousin when he could. Even the most hardliners of teachers could not be mad at someone so kind. But it did not matter how much he tried; Harry was a slave and a freak. And that was the truth.

Quickly getting up from his cupboard under the stairs, Harry knew he had only a few minutes before his aunt got up. While cleaning the kitchen and starting breakfast, Harry swiped some stale bread that was molding. He passed his hand in it, making the bread quickly lose its mold.

Harry knew he was different, for he had magic.

It happened for the first time when he was six. Uncle Vernon had lost a deal in his company, and Harry had dropped a plate. That meant a broken arm, bruises and two days without food for the little wizard. He remembers that night as if it were yesterday, his arm bending in impossible angles, the pain so severe that he refused to cry, knowing his sobs would hurt more. He just wished that his arm did not hurt anymore, that it would be normal again.

And that's when the little saint made his first miracle. His arm stopped hurting in an instant. He looked down at his arm, seeing it flop like it did not have bone in it. The shock was too much; he was overwhelmed by everything and he passed out. When Harry woke up, his arm was completely healed, as if nothing had happened to it. From then on, whenever his uncle or his cousin would go too far, he would always wake up in perfect health, no matter the bruise or how much he was hurt.

This was supposed to be wonderful, but it quickly dawned on Harry that it was a curse. Uncle Vernon took the liberty of being as cruel as possible, since 'The little freak always gets better'. Harry knew this birthday, his only present would be a good beating to put him in his place.

His Aunt walked to the kitchen, prim and proper as ever; her constant sneer when seeing him did not hurt anymore. He greeted her and was ignored as ever, but not greeting his betters was worse. He had already cooked a full english breakfast, and he could not help but be proud of how good it looked. It did not matter that Harry would never eat any of it. At least he made it.

His Aunt was the least harsh, but that did not mean she would not take her frustration on her 'favorite' nephew. Mostly, it was scolding and some slaps. Sometimes she would look at him strangely, asking weird questions and making him say weird things, comparing her to his mother, saying she was prettier than Lily. That was how he learned the name of his mother. The little wizard did not want to remember most of it, and he feared what she meant.

His thoughts were thankfully interrupted by his Uncle and Cousin lumbering down the stairs. Harry was being kind when the thought of them as overweight. Besides being tall, Vernon Dursley was obese enough to barely fit through any door in the house, and his son, Dudley Dursley, was walking the same path. Both grunted a 'good morning' to his aunt Petunia. Thankfully, they seem to ignore Harry today, who was ushered to get the mail.

Getting the mail, the little wizard went through, tossing any junk mail out, when one stuck out completely. A letter for him.

Harry was kind, but also was intelligent. The little wizard knew that if any of his relative saw the letter, it would be burned before even opening it. He quickly stashed in his underwear, one of the few places his Uncle never touched him, and brought the rest of the letters to his Uncle, who quickly dismissed Harry to do his other chores. It was a hot Saturday, and Harry knew he would not be in his cupboard for the rest of the day. He was anxious to read the letter, but knew that getting caught with it was basically asking for a beating. He went to the yard to trim the bushes, thinking what the letter could be.

For the first time in his little life, luck seemed to smile at him. His Uncle chose to take the family to a zoo, and 'obviously the freak was old enough to stay at home' so he did not need to go. Smiling, Harry opened his letter after a few minutes of his relatives leaving.

Then Harry's world changed. In a single letter, contained all he ever wanted—a place for people like him. A school to learn how to do magic! Quickly running to the cupboard, he lifted his books on medicine, one of the few things he was allowed to own. The old books were from his Aunt when she briefly studied medicine before marrying his Uncle. He discovering his talents in healing himself sparked his interest in it, and he devoured the books quickly, re-reading them dozens of times.

He finally found what he was looking for, a piece of clean paper and a pen. Harry needed to write to those people, saying he did not understand the world that they lived in and if anyone could help. He left his cupboard, thinking about sneaking out of the house to put his letter in a mailbox, but before he could open the door, he heard a knock in the window. A pitch-black owl was looking pointedly at him. A little scared, he approached the window, opening it.

""Y-yes?" He found that, weirdly, most animals could understand him. Even the most vicious dogs, excluding the ones from his Aunt Marge, would become playful puppies near him. Maybe this owl would be the same?

The owl quickly snatched his letter, and in shock, Harry did not resist. Before he knew it, she flew away with his letter. Blinking rapidly, he sighed. Well, or this bird was a magic owl like the letter talked about in the session about pets, or it was just a really weird thief bird. He left it to fate to decide. He thought it could all be an elaborate prank by his relatives to give him hope, but he shook his head. They were cruel, yes, but that was just too much work for them.

Life continued, and Harry lost hope about a magical world. Thinking maybe it was just some strange junk mail, Harry's days passed quickly, and strangely, the punishments seemed to mellow out—not that Vernon would not hit him still, but it was less frequent. His Cousin was the only one who would constantly bully him. But all changed in the afternoon, a week after his letter was robbed by the owl.

A stern-looking woman, obviously of Scottish descent, appeared on Privet Drive. When she looked at him, she quickly glared before her expression softened. Harry knew she was like him in an instant.

"A-are you a freak like me?" Escaped his lips before he could contain himself. The woman's eyes widened before pure anger erupted.

"DURSLEY!" She spat out angrily, looking ready to murder someone. Harry, in a second, knew that maybe his luck would turn for the better.