I’m looking down into the eyes of hopelessness.
They’re crying out to me.
I see the pain.
It’s so much more than youth should know.
It tears me apart.
What can I do to change what I see?
This vicious cycle must come to an end.

Chorus:
Can’t you see?
We’re crushing the hearts of the innocent.
We’re teaching them to fail.
And how it breaks me to see how we’re living
And punishing the ones that need us to care.
To see them hurting
Feels like knuckles to the back of my head.

Where have the days gone
That a promise was forever?
Families stuck together.
We wonder why their generation struggles to get by?
There’s no one to help.
What can I do to change what I see?
This vicious cycle must come to an end

Heart of the Innocent~ Kutless

Harry jumped. He had awoken to yet another strange dream with a repulsive green light and a woman’s wretched screaming. Scratch that. These dreams weren’t so strange anymore. He finally understood where these dreams had come from. He knew now that these were not dreams, but memories.

When he had went into Diagon Alley with Hagrid the previous week, he had gotten some extra books on Dark Arts and Magical History. After he had skimmed through the books, he really knew what had taken place that night that his mom and James had died and he also knew the spell that had did it.

Harry had been under the impression that his adoptive-father and mother had died in a tragic car accident. When he had turned five, his aunt had callously shared with him the story and took sadistic pleasure in seeing him cry about it. He had believed her whole-heartedly until Hagrid visited him that fateful night on his 11th birthday.

It was sad when he perused the passage from the History book, seeing how James and his mom had died but at the moment, he didn't have time to linger on these unpleasant thoughts. For at the moment, it was 6:00 in the evening and he could smell the delicious scent of roast beef and potatoes. Sadly, he knew that he wouldn’t be having that for dinner. He most likely get a piece of bread with a slice of cheese and a glass of water.

Fat lard Dudley.

Slowly sitting up, he knew he wasn’t allowed to think unpleasantly of his relatives but it didn't help that their logic was contorted. Why would you continuously give food to a son who could barely walk and continuously not give food to a nephew who was so skinny you could practically see through him? Suddenly, his musings were interrupted when he heard the front door opening, signaling his uncle's return home from work. Harry started to panic. He should be outside doing his chores, not napping! He only came inside to lie down for a bit because he had not been feeling well. Now, he had overslept and was probably going to be in so much trouble. He sighed.

3.…2.…1.…

"BOY!"

Resigning himself to fate, he slid out of his bed and walked down the stairs with slow, heavy steps. Before he even hit the bottom step, he felt a hand slam into him on the side of the face, sending him flying into the wall. Harry could sense the anger raging in his uncle face.

"Boy! What the bloody hell do you think that you were doing?" his uncle said low and dangerously.

Harry's only reaction was to curl his legs towards his chest. He thought that maybe, if he explained to his uncle about him being sick today, his uncle would leave him alone, but he doubted that his uncle would listen.

"When I come home from a hard day of work, I expect your little list of chores to be finished. But what were you doing? Sleeping! Making your wonderful aunt slave around all afternoon finishing what you were supposed to be doing. You are going to haul your irresponsible arse into that kitchen right now and apologize for being an ungrateful. Selfish. FREAK!"

As his uncle leaned up to let him pass, Harry timidly got out of his position, knowing to get up swiftly and do whatever he was told.

He didn't argue or fight back. He learned that lesson early on in his life.

“I won’t! I won’t! Duddy neva has to do anyfing! I won’t! You can’t make me!”

He ran into the kitchen where his aunt had finished with dinner preparations. "Sorry, Aunt Petunia. I am sorry for," Harry swallowed, "being an ungrateful selfish freak." Harry finished quietly. His aunt snorted and thrust a pot full of peas into his arms for him to serve his uncle and fat cousin.

When the Dursleys were finished, Harry cleared the table and washed up. When he was finished, as quietly as possible, he went upstairs to his bedroom. When he was reaching for the door handle, he was pulled backwards by his hair, unto the landing. His head was yanked back and he dazedly watched as his uncle pointed at him with an empty bottle of booze in his other hand.

"Freak." and Harry could remember no more as that empty bottle of booze hit the side of his head.

XXXX

Severus Snape was angry.

No, he was beyond angry. He was livid. How dare Dumbledore refuse to give him the Dark Arts position again! Had he not proven himself more than good enough for the job? No. He was not good enough. Or as Dumbledore said in his calm and soothing voice, it was not his time. As he slammed the door to his office closed, he sat down behind his desk and summoned for a stiff drink. He needed one right now.

After he had had a couple of drinks, he was able to calm himself down enough to think clearly. He started to think about other things to get his mind off of another refusal from the headmaster. He thought about the upcoming school year instead.

Oh how he was going to regret this year. The Potter spawn was coming to Hogwarts.

Severus had counted down each year, biding his time. Now that the year had arrived, he felt an immense load of satisfaction and dread. He longed to avenge himself against the Potter senior for the years of torment at his hands but he knew he would not be able to stand the site of the boy.

Tomorrow, he would be coming face to face with him and he did not know how to react. Severus secretly wished to sneer and hex the boy into oblivion but he knew he was being ridiculous. Dumbledore would not want his precious Harry to be hurt in any way, shape, or form. Severus gave a disgusted snort.

Standing up and stretching his aching limbs, he hauled himself into his bedroom and hit his bed without another thought as his drink started to take effect.

XXXX

The next day Harry woke up with a splitting headache and a overwhelming feeling of joy. Today, he was leaving the Dursley’s ‘home’ and spending a whole year at Hogwarts. Jumping out of bed and ignoring the pounding of his head, he packed up everything in his small room. He didn't have much that he could call his but he didn't care at this point. All he could think about was leaving the Dursleys.

He started to chant quietly. I'm leaving the Dursleys…The dreadful dreadful Dursleys….

He was going to the magical world. The place where he wouldn't be considered a freak. Well, at least he hoped he wouldn't be considered one. He decided against thinking things like that and he was going to stay positive. He dragged his trunk downstairs where his uncle was reading the paper and his aunt was beginning breakfast. They ignored him which was just fine for him. He sat his trunk down by the door and went back upstairs to get a shower and get dressed for his trip.

After stepping out the tub, he dressed in the best clothes that he had and started to comb his hair. As he was brushing his hair, he winced as the brush hit the side of his face where there was a deep cut from where the bottle had hit the side his head last night.

He cringed and remembered the promise that he had made to himself many years ago. He was never, ever to tell anybody about the Dursleys. He couldn't take another punishment such as the one that he had received from trying to tell his second grade teacher about the Dursleys. His teacher had been shocked and had called a meeting with the Dursleys and the principal, where the Dursleys swore that he was a chronic attention-seeking liar and that they were ‘respectable and upright’ people who would never do a ‘degrading’ thing such as that. Being fools, the principal and teacher believed them and he had gotten the worst punishment ever that night when he had gotten home. He turned around and viewed the scar on his back from it.

F.R.E.A.K.

That word was burned into the middle of his back so that he could, as his uncle had put it, remember all that he would ever amount to.

He jumped as he heard his uncle yell at him from downstairs, telling him that he was leaving. He quickly finished and ran downstairs, stumbling over one of shoe strings. His uncle let out a cruel laugh and walked out the door. Harry grabbed his trunk and hauled it to the car and got into the back. He watched the scenery as his uncle drove to the train station.

The car stopped. He looked around at the train station and felt nervous apprehension. This was it.

"Let me see your ticket, boy."

He gave his ticket to his uncle. He watched as his uncle got a trolley and with a sick sneer on his face, led him to the barrier. His uncle told him there is the platform and walked away, laughing his familiar cruel laugh. Feeling uneasy, Harry didn't know what to do until he saw a group of redheads moving towards the barrier. Then he knew that this wasn't a sick joke his uncle had had made up.

XXXX

The train had arrived. Severus watched from up at the school as he saw tiny figures moving out of the scarlet steam engine. He knew one of those figures had to be Potter. Walking away, he swiftly moved towards the Great Hall. He entered and sat in his usual spot beside the new Defense teacher, Quirrell. He sneered and looked around as he saw the older students moving to their house tables, laughing and catching up with one another.

As they sat down, their grating voices died away and Severus could hear their stomachs growling as they impatiently waited for the first years to make their entrance. He felt his own stomach give an uncomfortable twinge as well.

He stared intensely at the diminutive figures moved into the Great Hall, apprehensively following Minerva. He searched their faces for the one that he longed to see. He was forced to rove over the sea of heads a few times and was shocked to find not one of them looked like a young James Potter.

As Minerva unrolled the scroll and started to call the names, Severus still searched for the boy. He knew that he had to be among them. He knew he could not be wrong. He was never wrong. Giving up, he decided to just wait for the name to be called.

Potter, Harry

Severus sat straight up and watched at the boy as he moved forward and was disappointed to see that the boy didn't bother to look up. The boy walked towards the stool with his head down and sat with a straight back, unmoving. Severus began to feel impatient when he saw that the hat was taking his time with the boy. Probably praising him, arrogant prat.

GRYFFINDOR!  Figures.

The boy slid off of the stool and turned around to set the hat back down onto the stool. When he did, he briefly looked up and Severus got his first look at the boy he waited for so long to see. He felt his eyes widen as the boy turned back around with a pale expression on his face. It can't be, Severus thought. It just can't be. All thought of revenge and redemption faded from his mind as he watched the boy sit down beside the Weasley boy. And with one thought he sat back and stared down at his plate.