Harry Potter and the secret Past

The welcome feast

Harry sat starring at his plate. There was too much food, he wasnt hungry. Nobody seemed to noctice, not that anyone would care if they did. Everyone was in deep discussion about their families. Harry sat in awe listening to the stories from his new friend Ron about all his siblings. All of the fellow Gryffindors had amazing lives filled with magic and love. Even the muggle borns like Hermione and Dean had fun stories to tell about their families. He even noticed Hermione get a little teary as she thought of not seeing her parents. Like she actually missed them. Harry stayed quiet through out. He had nothing to tell. He wasn't sure how people would react to his childhood if he told them. They'd either think him a freak or they would pity him. He didn't want either. 

Harry was curious about a boy called Neville Longbottom though. Neville had talked about living with his grandmother and although for all intents and purposes he spoke in a happy manner with fond memories, harry couldn't help wondering where his parents were. Could Neville possibly be like him? It was a funny thought, he had never met anyone like himself before. 

Harry already loved it at hogwarts despite only being there a few hours. It was a paradise compared to the dursleys and for some reason everyone seemed to be nice to him as if they actually liked him. Harry  guessed it was because no one had got to know him yet. 

Harry began to feel restless, he wanted to leave the feast. All the food around him was knocking him sick and he found everyone was too loud. It was odd. Harry had spent his whole life practically alone, longing for company but now here he was surrounded by people who didn't seem to mind having him around and he wanted nothing more than to be alone. He just didn't feel like he fit in. He looked down and fiddled with his sleeve. 

"You alright harry?" Ron asked as he shoved more chicken into his mouth. Harry looked up quickly.

"Yeah I'm fine" he said forcing a smile "just tired" he lied effortlessly. Ron, contented by the answer continued his discussion with seamus about quidick or quiblitch or something like that. Harry had never heard of it before. Turning his attention to the high table, Harry observed all the professors. Which one would be the first to find out what he was and hurt him he wondered. He watched Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall laugh with each other deep in lighthearted conversation.

Harry found he liked them. Dumblore had a warm twinkle in his eyes and he could tell McGonagall was a strict and stern women but he couldn't help but respect her, Harry's heart  sank at these thoughts and he shook himself slightly. He couldn't feel comfortable, it would just hurt him more when they did the inevitable. 

His eyes wondered further down the staff table and rested on a man with a long nose and greasy black hair who was talking to a man in a turban. 

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through Harry's scar and he clasped his hands over he forehead. 

"What's up? You okay?" Ron asked in concern. Both Ron and Hermione were eyeing him nervously.

"Er yeah I'm fine, I've just got a head ache" he rubbed his head "I always get them when I'm tired." This satisfied Ron and Hermione but Harry felt shaky. In truth he had never had his scar hurt like that before. Of all the pain he had suffered this was not one of them. He glanced back up at the greasy haired man and realised in horror that the man was looking at him through black eyes. Harry looked away quickly and began fiddling with his sleeve again. He would recognise that look anywhere, it was the look of hate. 

Later that evening all the Gryffindors followed their prefect to their dormitory. Harry was amazed as he lay down on his bed. The matress was so comfy. He felt like he was in heaven, he was used to the cold hard floor of his cupboard. The other boys were still talking excitedly but Harry made the excuse of being tired and pretended to go to sleep so his thoughts wouldn't be disturbed. 

After today's slip up at the feast, Harry decided he would have to be more careful so he wouldn't be found out. Everyone had been ogling at the scar on his forehead but he knew he couldn't let anyone see his over scars which covered his whole body. After finding out he was leaving to go to hogwarts, the dursleys had stopped harming Harry's face so as long as he kept the rest of himself covered up, no one would see the abuse he had suffered. He now realised he also had to make sure he never looked in pain. Despite the fact that almost every movement caused him pain.