Silver Ichor (Drarry)

Chapter 1

July 30 1991

Harry woke up to his aunt, Petunia, shrieking for him to start with his chores, "Get up, Freak! We don't have all day!"

Harry sighed, he was used to their treatment of him by now, but it was very irritating. He longed for the day he could prove them wrong. He knew he wasn't useless, he knew he wasn't a freak, he knew he could amount to something brilliant if only he had the chance. Alas, he had to settle for living here.

Harry had thought about running away many, many times. But he knew it wasn't logical. He had nowhere to go. The only place he'd ever been to other than Privet Drive was school. And that was only because the government would get suspicious otherwise.

Harry wasn't allowed to do well in school. He wasn't allowed to outshine the Dursleys' son, precious 'Dudleykins'.

Dudley was a whale of a child, had a brain the size of a walnut, and was spoiled rotten. Dudley was always encouraged to beat Harry up, and Harry was smart enough to know that he would stand no chance against him, and so he runs. He had honed his skills and was now incredibly fast.

He also found out that no matter what, Dudley would never enter the library, which made it the perfect retreat. Harry took to reading during breaks and borrowing books from the library every chance he got. He hid those books, of course, as the Dursleys would not take kindly to Harry 'trying to be smarter than Dudders.'

So he read. He educated himself on anything and everything he could find. Immersed himself in stories of different worlds, always wishing he could go off and have his own adventures.

Maybe his wish could be granted.

Today wasn't too bad, Harry thought that night, laying in his cot. His aunt had given him a list of chores and left him at it. He even got a little bit of dinner.

He suddenly remembered that it was his birthday tomorrow. Every year, his birthday went by unnoticed except by himself. Harry was okay with that, he had his own birthday tradition too. He would always stay up until midnight, counting down the seconds until he reaches another year.

This year, Harry is turning 11!

He stayed up this year too, peering at the clock through the crack in his cupboard door, and counted down.

3...

2...

1...

Happy Birthday!

Harry softly sang himself the birthday song and went to sleep afterwards.

~

When Harry woke up, he had a very distinct feeling that he was still asleep, and that this was a dream.

"No, dear," said a clearly female voice, startling him. "I'm afraid this isn't a dream. It's more of a way of communication. You are still at your relatives' house, but your consciousness is here. You will find that you can still feel, taste and touch things, but your physical body is still where it was when you fell asleep."

Harry adapted to the strange situation quickly enough, "Why am I here? I presume there is a reason I am?"

"Perhaps you should sit down," said another voice, this one male.

Harry was about to point out that there was nowhere to sit on, when a soft, comfortable looking armchair materialised out of thin air. Harry sat, thinking furiously, Where am I? Why am I here? What's going on?

A light tinkly laugh startled Harry from his thoughts, "Don't stress yourself, dear, you will get all the answers soon."

Harry sighed and looked around, he was in a room made entirely of marble, but it had no ceiling. The sky was a gorgeous amethyst colour with orange clouds that gave the appearance of an imaginative painting of a sunset. When Harry looked back down, there were two people watching him thoughtfully.