Growing Up

Chapter 1 - Pain

That which does not kill us makes us stronger. - Friedrich Nietzsche

His emerald green eyes haunted his inconsiderate family from the very moment he was dumped onto their door steps. Harry Potter has the looks of an innocent and frail china doll. But with his traumatic past, the words 'innocent' and 'frail' will never be on the list of words that could ever describe what he truly is. His eyes hold tales of immense pain, while his skin carefully hidden underneath his baggy clothes are painted with blood, grime, and bruises. With a particular curse with the known name of 'Hyperthymesia' in the muggle world, it is an ability to remember each moment with such precise accuracy that it can be considered terrifying. With the sad life of Harry Potter, it shows that the moments of happiness which occurs are more scarce than the days without the immense joy of 'Harry hunting'.

Long persecute hours starts from 5 o'clock in the morning, and lasts until whenever the mighty slave manages to complete the never ending list of chores. Little to no rest is allowed unless the Dursleys are forced by the law to send Harry to school otherwise they would be violating the rights to every child's education. Stationary picked from the neighbour's garbage, notebooks filled with Dudley scribbles, and a filthy worned out backpack that was taken from the rat-filled alleyways were the only items given to Harry to complete his schooling. Dudley, on the other hand, was given new shiny objects that Harry couldn't even name half of the things he had.

Rape was just one of the many concepts that he could not comprehend properly. Why was his uncle Vernon touching him in ways that he hated but unconsciously voicing out his pleasure in timid breaths and unnecessary moans? Every Sunday, in the evening after his uncle Vernon's dinner, he had to wait patiently on his knees in the basement and wait for his master to arrive. Lined with the walls of the basement, which he is also forced to clean during the week, were toys that he could remember being used on him since he was only at the tiny age of four.

Consequently, it was also at the age of four when he had concluded that magic was real and he was special from any other person he had ever met before. His wondrous magic allowed him to heal faster and lift objects. He could even transform a crumpled paper ball into a new and untouched notebook! By then, he knew that something was truly off. So he made a vow that when the time is right, he will run away. But before that, he will collect as much information and knowledge he could behind his family's back.

At age six, he started feeling an electrical sensation in his abdomen at the most random times. Mostly when it was just before a mistake happened which could've gotten him into a large amount of trouble, one that is given a beating that will not allow him to walk properly for the rest of the week.

Alas when he finally gave into the strange electrical feeling, he somehow knew that it was his golden ticket to run away from his dreaded family. With only dust as luggage, he knew wherever he might end up it would most likely be better than where his childhood was spent being a personal slave.

It felt as if he was pushed through a toilet's u-bend, which he was close to once before as Dudley and his gang dumped him head-first into the filthy pissed-filled toilet water, and stretched both vertically and horizontally like a piece of gum. It was an unpleasant feeling, which he would later learn that it was called 'aparating' and that he was the youngest to ever self aparate even though his magical core has not stabilised yet.

Landing butt-first into an alleyway definitely did not matter at the moment as Harry's head screamed in utter agony. Nausea churned in his stomach and his eyes swarmed in dizziness as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Praying from the bottom of his tiny heart, he did not want to end up anywhere that could be considered a mafia or gangster territory as his magic was just a baby chick compared to what he knew it could possibly be in the future.

When the black dots that were dancing across his eyes finally faded away, he looked up and locked eyes with what he thought was an angel. White snowy hair and greyish-blue eyes made him feel cold and electrified in the harsh summer, and the intensive curiosity burning into Harry made him feel like butterflies were in his stomach. Taking a step forward, his head churned once again and this time he knew it was from dehydration and malnutrition. The last thing he remembered was the beautiful boy running towards him with his hand out, as if he wanted to catch Harry before he fell.