The sun rose on the tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front door. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive as the occupants awaken to another normal day. Or so they thought.

Mrs Dursley opened the front door to put out the milk bottles as per normal, and immediately froze when she saw the bundle of blankets on her front steps. Within lay a sleeping baby with jet-black hair, and a curiously shaped scar on his forehead, like a blot of lightning.

She let out a piercing scream loud enough to wake the dead, "Ver- Vernon!"

The baby, so rudely awakened by the scream, let out a shrill wail to show its displeasure.

A sound of haste followed as her husband tumbled out of bed and rushed down to see what was wrong. His eyes followed her pointed finger to the wailing bundle that lay on their doorstep. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, certain that he must be dreaming, but "is that a BABY on our doorstep?" he asked incredulously.

He looked to his wife, wondering what it was all about, but only saw a mixture of fear and disgust. Realization dawned in his eyes and he said in a deceptively calm voice, "It’s one of them, isn’t it?"

Petunia nodded, still not saying a word, wondering what they should do. Vernon made that decision for her, contempt in every word, "there is no way that the freak is staying here. He’ll have to go to the orphanage."

"But- but they will know... an- and it’s not safe..." Petunia stammered before her husband cut her off forcefully, "I will not allow that freak to contaminate my son and our home with his- his abnormality!" His voice softened as he attempted to reassure her, "Don’t worry, he’ll be gone before noon and they probably will not bother to check on him until he needs to attend that- that freakish school. We’ll burn the letter. No one will know."

With that, he roughly picked up the crying bundle from the front step, and drove off in his car, looking for the nearest orphanage available. Stopping at a traffic junction, he turned to glare at it, his annoyance steadily mounting with the incessant noise that it was making. "Shut up!" He snapped. It continued crying, driving him mad.

‘Figures that the brat will annoy me to no end,’ he thought. ‘Oh well, he’ll be none of my business once he’s off my hands. I hope the orphanage is abusive. The freak deserves it…'

Chapter 1

Of Drunk Caretaker and Beatings

There was a loud bang as the door swung open, revealing the drunken caretaker that stumbled through the doorway. All the children looked on in wide- eyed fear and backed away as danger pressed closer. "You there! Boy, what are you staring at?" he growled, advancing towards the 5 year old boy who’s shaking his head and turning to run. He caught him easily despite being unsteady on his feet. "Thought you could be disrespectful to me and get away eh? We’ll see about that you brat…" He ranted before lifting a hand, preparing to strike the poor boy.

"Stop it! He didn’t do anything." A voice cried out from the back.

Keleman, the caretaker, turned in surprised at being interrupted. Then anger flashed across his face. "Who said that?" A little boy with a messy mop of raven black hair came forward, trying to look brave, but his whitened knuckles, clutched tight to prevent them from trembling, gave him away. "So it’s you again, trying to be heroic and save him from a beating eh?" Keleman sneered.

The little boy lifted his head defiantly, green eyes flashing with anger and disgust at this man, who was supposed to be their caretaker but instead abused them whenever he is drunk. This man, whose name means gentle and kind. How ironic. His nature could not be any further from the meaning of his name.

"Very well, you shall take his place." Keleman reached out to grab him as the meaning of his words sunk in too late. The boy struggled and thrashed about wildly, trying to get free, but Keleman’s grip tightened until it felt like his bone was about to break. He gasped in pain, a bruise rapidly forming on his pale skin. The first blow struck his cheek so hard, he could taste blood in his mouth. Then another two punches in the face and stomach. He was screaming and crying, his eyes pleading with the watching orphans to do something to help. But they all stood frozen in horror and fear, not daring to do anything, in case the caretaker’s attention turned to them.

The beating continued as Keleman vent all his frustrations and anger on the boy in his drunken haze, barely registering the fact that the boy was already fast becoming unconscious. He finally stopped, and threw the boy onto the floor carelessly, like a broken rag doll. He gave the injured boy a last kick and deliberately stepped on his right wrist, hearing the sickening sound of crunch as the bone snapped before walking from the room. The watching orphans rushed to their companion’s side once Keleman’s back was turned, trying to revive him.

But Keleman’s voice from the doorway stopped them in their tracks. "Leave the boy. Let this be a lesson to all those who are disrespectful and defiant. Your fate will be the same, if not worse, if you persist." He smiled sinisterly before striding upstairs to his room. The orphans looked at each other uncertainly, not daring to defy the caretaker yet not wanting to leave their companion who suffered the beating so they could be safe. However, their sense of self- preservation won out and each fled from the room. All slept with an uneasy mind that night. (with the exception of the caretaker, of course.)

Dawn came, and gentle rays of sunlight shone through the windows into the darkened room, revealing a broken boy lying on the floor, his wrist twisted in an unnatural angle, his pale skin marked by numerous bruises. His messy black hair obscured his face, until a breeze blew in, ruffling his hair, and unveiling a strange lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Soft padded feet walked cautiously down the stairs. A pair of brown eyes peered into the room to check that no one is around before entering and walking over to the unconscious boy’s side.

"Harry…" the boy shook him gently, afraid of aggravating his injuries further. "Harry, please wake up," he pleaded. "We have to get you away before Keleman wakes up and sees you. If not he might get angry again and beat you some more."

Harry stirred, and moaned in pain as his body ached all over, some parts more so than others. He heard someone calling and tried to open his eyes, gazing dazedly, trying to ignore the pain. "Daniel…" he whispered weakly, looking up at the anxious and concerned face of his friend.

Daniel sighed in relief at Harry’s voice. Although he was fifteen, and Harry only six, the age gap did not matter for Daniel had always looked after Harry like he would a younger brother. "Are you alright? Come on I’m gonna help you get up." Daniel gently slid one arm under Harry’s neck, the other under his knees, and slowly lifted him off the floor. Harry let out a sharp gasp of pain as his fractured wrist was moved, and Daniel gave him an apologetic look before carrying him out of the room slowly, careful not to jerk about too much.

Once upstairs, Daniel lay Harry down on a bed and took off his shirt to see the extent of his injuries. He was shocked by the number of bruises on Harry’s arms and torso, plus those that were on his face. "Bloody hell!" He said. "I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there Harry. I only heard this morning what had happened. I should have protected you…"

"Don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault that you were sick in bed and that Keleman is just a bastard."

"Harry! Don’t swear! Where did you get that word from anyway?" asked Daniel, appalled by his choice of word.

"It’s true anyway. Oh, I heard a couple of older boys using it. Why can’t I swear? You do it too."

"That’s different. You’re only six. Those boys with their bad influence, wait ‘til I give them a piece of my mind. Corrupting young children like that…" Daniel muttered.

"Yes, mommy," said Harry impishly despite being injured and in pain.

Daniel immediately stopped his mutterings and smiled wryly. "Sorry I got carried away."

"It’s ok. I know you were just trying to protect me."

"Yeah, some kind of protector I am letting you get beaten up by Keleman."

"I’ll be ok. A few days of rest and I’ll be as good as new."

"As good as new huh? Two broken teeth, countless bruises, one fractured wrist and who knows what else."

"Why don’t you check? Not that all this bantering isn’t fun but I’m getting cold."

"Right. I forgot." Daniel said sheepishly.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ok, I think there’s nothing else besides those I’ve said. But I’m not the expert. You sure you don’t want to see a doctor to make sure?"

"And tell him how I got those injuries? Surely I can’t say I got those injuries ‘cause I’m such a klutz that I crash into everything when I walk."

"Ok, ok, I get your point." Daniel sighed and proceeded to apply ointment on the bruises and bandage the fractured wrist. " You have a good rest. I doubt Keleman will be sober enough to realise you’re missing and go looking for you. He always has a bad hangover."

" ’kay.." Harry murmured, already falling asleep.

Daniel smiled sadly and closed the door softly as he went out.

It was afternoon when Harry woke up. He winced in pain as he tentatively tried to move his wrist. ‘Darn, how am I supposed to go for lessons on Monday when I cant even write now?' he thought irritably. All the children aged five and above are required to go to school, as it is part of the town's welfare system to provide an education for all, even orphans. For that he was grateful. It gave him something to look forward to in his dreary life at the orphanage. And it gave him a chance to get away from the caretaker.

Plus he enjoyed reading and learning, very much so. While other kids his age would have been delighted playing with toys and running about, he'd rather prefer to sit in solitude and read quietly. Which is why Harry do not have many friends his age, because he keeps to himself often and do not interact with the others much. Daniel is an exception.

~Flashback~

"Get the boy!" shouted Derrick to his gang of friends. They ran and panted breathlessly, trying to catch the little boy. Five year old Harry looked back and his eyes widened as he saw them catching up, ‘oh no, oh no…' he thought frantically. He continued running as fast as he could, dodging their beefy hands which were grabbing at him. Luckily he was small and light on his feet, an advantage over the bullies' big size and clumsiness. He abruptly came to a stop in front of a bricked wall. Dead end.

‘Uh oh… stupid, stupid, stupid…' he berated himself for unknowingly running into a deserted alley.

The bullies caught up and advanced menacingly, cracking their knuckles in anticipation. "Now we've got you, boy," Derrick said smugly.

Harry's eyes darted around for an escape route but there was none as Derrick and his gang of bullies had blocked the whole path.

"You can't get away this time. Though goodness knows how you got away the previous times…" he trailed off.

Perhaps that was why they kept chasing Harry. He always got away, seeming to vanish around the corner. These thwarted attempts at bullying had only fueled their determination to get him. Harry barely knows how he got away too. It was a big mystery to him.

Like that time, one moment he was on the ground, running from them and the next moment he was on the roof, safely out of their reach.

Then there was once when he was cornered with the boys advancing on him, yet they could not get within 5 feet of him. There seemed to be an invisible wall preventing them from getting closer. Harry had actually closed his eyes, waiting for the first blow, but it never came. Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw the boys beating at the air, but could not get through. He was bewildered, but quickly became amused at their attempts to break down a wall that no one could see.

Harry could not figure out how it happened, it was like… like magic.

"…nothing and no one can save you now," Derrick finished evilly. He gave a signal to his friends and one punched him in the stomach. "Help!" was all Harry managed to scream before one of them covered his mouth.

"Hey! What are you trying to do?" came a voice from behind. The boys turned, and saw Daniel. They paled and started to run off. But Daniel grabbed Derrick by the shirt- front and pulled him up, eye to eye with him. "Shame on you for bullying a five year old kid. Pick on someone your own size if you have the guts. Don't let me catch you doing it again or else…" with that unspoken threat plain in his voice, Daniel let Derrick go.

"Yes-yess sir..." Derrick stammered before scrambling off.

Harry watched all this in amazement. For once, Derrick is actually scared of someone.

Daniel approached him, saying, "Bullies like Derrick are cowards at heart. He won't dare to pick a fight with me just because I'm older and bigger. But it's ok now; he won't bother you in future."

Daniel stretched out a hand, "Come on, I'll walk you back."

Harry looked at the hand uncertainly, hesitant to trust a total stranger. He looked up and saw an encouraging smile on Daniel's face. All doubts vanished as he knew in his heart that Daniel would not hurt him. And thus, begin a friendship of sorts between Harry and Daniel, which gradually became ‘kinship' as Daniel took Harry under his wing, ‘adopting' him as a younger brother.

~End Flashback~

"Well, how do I write with a fractured wrist?" Harry pondered. The door creaked, alerting him to someone entering. Daniel looked at the serious expression on Harry face and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh just thinking how I'm gonna write with this." Harry replied absently, lifting his bandaged wrist.

"You'll have to wait for it to heal. School work can wait."

"What! And miss all those lessons? Absolutely not! This could take a few weeks to heal, may be even 2 months." Harry said in despair at being deprived of weeks or even months of learning.

"I don't see an alternative. Unless you want to learn to use your left hand to write." Daniel suggested offhandedly.

Harry jumped up and hugged him in excitement. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Daniel, you're brilliant!"

"Huh? What did I say?" Daniel asked in confusion.

"Learn to write with my left hand!" Harry exclaimed, and continued jumping about, happy with the solution.

"But it'll take time-" Daniel said before Harry cut him off, "Faster than it'll take for my wrist to heal. I can start now and use the weekend to practice."

Daniel thought for a moment, and said nothing more, conceding the argument to Harry. For he knows that once Harry has made up his mind, it would be useless trying to persuade him to abandon the idea.

Over the next two days, Harry spent most of his time in the room, practicing how to write with his left hand. Keleman had apparently forgotten all about him and it was a relief that he did not notice Harry's absence at mealtimes. However that does not mean that Harry is starving, as Daniel would smuggle food to him.

His bruises were fading, though his wrist had not fully mended. And his progress with learning to write with his left hand was fast; he would still be slower than others, but that level of speed was sufficient in class. It was quite an accomplishment, considering that he only had two days to practice, and knowing Harry, probably even nights as he stayed up late.

As always, Harry was glad to go to school, even with a fractured wrist, and this morning was no different. He loves books and the knowledge one could gain from reading them. It was like being in a totally new and exciting world when one was engrossed in a book. With books, he could forget the harsh realities of this world, and gain the upper hand with the power of knowledge.

His teachers had been amazed at his reading abilities at the age of five when he first started attending school. His pronunciation of words was fairly accurate, and he had a good memory of everything he had read. This was because he had taught himself how to read before attending school, borrowing textbooks or storybooks from the older kids, listening to the way adults speak, and the way words were sounded. Harry had studiously read his way through the school library at an age where other boys were still getting used to sounding out their letters. All his teachers thought that he was a truly remarkable boy, child genius even. But he did not like all that attention, keeping quiet during class, only listening and observing in silence. In tests, he sometimes deliberately made mistakes so that his score would not be too high. After some time, all the fuss about him faded away as he hid his talent, staying in the background.

His form teacher, Ms Mackenzie, was not so easily fooled and would observe him from time to time, but this morning she did not say anything if she noticed him writing with his left hand. Harry sighed in relief at that. He did not fancy having to answer those uncomfortable questions about where he got his injuries. Probably she thought he fell from a tree when playing with the other children or something. He snorted at that notion. She would have never thought that or believed it if she knew him well enough.

It was a pleasant afternoon, with the sun shining warmly overhead, and cool breeze blowing back his hair. Harry was lying down on his front under a tree, shaded and comfortably settled on the soft carpet grass beneath, hard at work as he did the day's assigned homework, scribbling furiously with his left hand. He was getting more proficient at using his left hand now; it barely matters that he could not use his right hand as his wrist was still mending.

"Hey Harry," a voice said softly.

Harry turned around, and smiled upon seeing who it was. "Daniel. What's up? Come sit down." Harry patted the patch of grass beside him. Daniel sat down, seemingly deep in thought. Harry waited for him to speak, sensing that something was troubling him.

" Harry," Daniel began hesitantly. " I- I was adopted this morning. And... and I'll be leaving with them tonight."

Harry was shocked, " Wha- what? That... that means you're leaving me too?" his lower lip trembled at the thought of losing his friend. More than that, they were like brothers.

I know it's really abrupt and sudden. I was also surprised when they chose me, after all I'm already so old and it's rare that people want to adopt a teenager," Daniel said in a rush. "But I'd always longed for a family. I- I really hope you'd be happy for me…" he trailed off.

Harry tried to control his tears. "Of course I'm happy for you Dan. Don't forget about me when you're gone ‘kay? We'll always be best brothers," he said, slipping into an old nickname for Daniel, giving him a rather watery smile.

"Of course! Of course… you're the only brother I have." Daniel hugged Harry fiercely, a tinge of sadness in his voice. He pulled back and gave Harry a smile, albeit a forced one, "So what should we do today little brother?"

Harry saw that Daniel was trying to put on a cheerful front for him, for them, to make this separation easier. He attempted to smile back, putting some enthusiasm in his words, "Whatever you want to do." His voice softened, "I'm happy as long as you're with me."

Daniel looked at Harry's face, and saw the sincerity of his words in his emerald green eyes. Those eyes say so much, conveying love, understanding, and… sadness in their depths. He shook himself mentally and pulled Harry onto his feet, "Well let's go! Won't want to waste anymore of this lovely afternoon, would you? Race you to the park!" he shouted playfully before taking off.

"Hey! No fair! You got a head start!" Harry protested, and laughingly ran after him, determined not to think about the separation now.

Dan was already on the swings when Harry reached there, his face flushed, and breathing fast from the race.

"Cheat… ter... bug…" he gasped out.

Daniel only smiled cheekily at him, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Well, what forfeit shall you have for losing?"

"Oh no, you don't!" said Harry, slowly backing away as he saw the wheels turning in Dan's head coming a full circle. He turned to run, anticipating what was coming. But Daniel was too fast, pinning Harry on the grass and proceeded to tickle him mercilessly.

"Oh! Oh- stop! Stop! I can't- can't breathe… hah… hah…" Harry alternated between laughing helplessly and protesting weakly, catching his breath in the short respite from being tickled. Daniel finally relented and let him up. Harry just lay there on the grass, recovering from the bout of tickling. He then sat up and scowled at Dan, trying to look angry but failing miserably as it only made him look more adorable with his face screwed up. Dan tried to look properly cowed by his look but ended up bursting in laughter, earning a hurt look from Harry.

"I'm sorry Harry, it's just that it's impossible for you to look scary with that face," Dan said, still laughing.

"Ya, I know. It's just so awful being adorable no matter what," Harry sighed theatrically.

"Yah right." Dan rolled his eyes at Harry's dramatic proclamation.

"Glad you agreed," he replied impishly, green eyes sparkling.

Dan let out a long- suffering sigh, "Ok ok, I give up."

Harry only gave him an innocent look that seemed to say, "Who? Me?"

Dan shook his head resignedly at that and suggested, " You wanna play the swings now? I'll push you."

Harry nodded and climbed onto the swing, hands holding the ropes at his sides. There was a rush of wind in his face as Dan gave a great push, sending him high into the air. "Wheee! This is so fun!" he cried to Dan. Dan gave him an indulgent look, and pushed even harder, sending him higher, while smiling at his obvious happiness. ‘Ah, the simplicity of childhood…' Dan thought wistfully.

The two boys spent the whole day together, sitting on swings, splashing water at each other from the pond, chasing each other around the park, teasing and having fun. They watched the sun set over the horizon in silence, the orange ball of light moving lower in the sky. Pink, purple and orange streaks coloured the sky, painting a very pretty picture. Unfortunately it also marked the end of the day as dusk was fast approaching, and reluctantly the two boys went back to the orphanage.

Daniel's adopted parents were already waiting for him. Dan hugged Harry one last time, and Harry clung to him desperately, not wanting to let go. Daniel pried Harry's arms from his neck and whispered, "Good bye, dear brother. I'll write. Take care of yourself."

Harry's throat constricted, on the brink of tears. ‘I mustn't cry. It will make Dan sadder. I must be brave for him. I'll be happy for him.' he thought. "Bye," he choked out. " I'll miss you."

Silence. There is nothing else to be said. Nothing else can be said, the unspoken words resounding more clearly and loudly than anything.

He watched as Dan turned from him and walked away. Everything in him was screaming ‘Don't go!' But it is not possible to change things. Harry resisted the impulse to run after Dan and hug him, pleading for him to stay. He could only watch, standing still in the walkway long after the car disappeared from sight, silent tears falling. In his state of paralysis, he vaguely felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, accompanied by a soft whisper of a feminine voice carried by the wind, "Hush, my child, don't cry. Everything will be all right, you'll see…"

All around the children were playing amidst the shrieks of laughter and joy. Only one lone boy sat by himself under a tree, watching the activities with indifference. It was not normal to see such a look on a young boy. But Harry had become more withdrawn after Dan left, immersing himself in books more than ever.

He did not normally mix around with the other children, but it quickly became apparent that they were avoiding him more than usual due to some unknown reason. It was almost as if he had the plague. ‘Yes, 'avoiding him like a plague' would be an appropriate phrase to use. It is most curious,' he thought, frowning when he remembered the incident that happened a few days ago.

"Bang!" came the sound, as someone crashed into Harry.

"Sorry, didn't see you around the corner," the other boy apologized as he bent down to pick up his fallen books.

"Here, I'll help you." Harry handed him a few books.

"Thanks." The other boy looked up, and froze for a second before quickly backing away. "Er… er- bye," he stuttered and ran off hurriedly, leaving Harry to stare after him in puzzlement, wondering what the hell just happened.

It was then that he noticed the other kids around acting strangely, all of them giving him a wide berth. It wasn't that he craved company but he knew that this was getting ridiculous when they kept scrambling off the moment he came near.

All right, he'd had enough. "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this today." He stalked determinedly towards one of the kids and cornered him before he could run off like the others. "Ok, what's going on? Why is everyone avoiding me?"

"Er.. er.. I don't know!" said the smaller boy, looking around desperately.

"Tell me and I'll let you go," he coaxed softly.

The boy wavered, and finally blurted out, "Everyone's avoiding you ‘cuz they're scared of Keleman. He told us to leave you alone and they don't wanna get on his bad side."

Harry was stunned, letting the boy go in his distraction. ‘But why?' he thought, bewildered. ‘Didn't I help them? Why do they avoid me because Keleman says so? He is the bad guy, I'm their friend.' His six-year-old mind could not comprehend the instincts of self-preservation. He only knew that good guys were right; bad guys were wrong. To his way of thinking, there was a clear line separating right and wrong, good and evil, white and black. No shades of grey in between. So to him, listening to the bad guy is definitely a ‘wrong' thing to do.

He tried to persuade the other children to his way of thinking. "Keleman is bad. Why do you let him control you? He is mean and beats us all the time. We should fight against him," he declared passionately.

All the other kids were standing at least 3 metres away from him, keeping their distance. They looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You are mad. Fight against him? What can we do? We are only children and he will only beat us more severely if we do that," a voice spoke up from the back, causing the others to nod in agreement.

"But... but we can't just live in fear of him and do nothing," Harry protested.

"You go ahead if you want to but we are not doing anything. Keleman already beats us for no reason. Who knows what state we might end up in when he actually has one?" With that, the group scattered amidst the murmuring, leaving Harry to stand there by himself, alone again.

In contrast to the younger kids avoiding him, the bullying from the older boys had started up again, namely trouble in the form of Derrick and his gang. He strutted around smugly as there is no one to stop him from bullying Harry who was free-game now that Dan was gone.

‘This is getting soooo old,' thought Harry as he ran from the bullies. ‘There must be a better way to end this than running away every time.' Suddenly a brilliant idea struck and he ran towards the warehouse at the end of the street, turning at the corner and hid himself under a car. He heard them trampling past and Derrick's voice saying, "He can't have disappeared. Maybe he hid in the warehouse. Let's go in and check."

Hearing that, Harry smirked to himself and counted to ten, "1, 2, . . . 8, 9, 10..."

"Ah!" followed the collective screams of the boys as 3 vicious-looking watchdogs chased them out of the warehouse, barking and snipping at their heels. "Help! Help!"

Their voices faded away as they disappeared down the street. Harry allowed himself a small chuckle at their unfortunate fates. ‘Trust them to be stupid enough to fall for the trap. First rule of the book: Never walk into enemy territory blindly. Everyone knows that there are watchdogs in the warehouse. They probably didn't even pause to think before entering,' he thought scornfully. ‘Well, better go and enjoy the rest of my afternoon before they get back from exercising the dogs,' he snickered.

He spent the rest of the day under his favourite tree, reading about the Salem Witch Trials and wondering why people could be so ignorant and superstitious to the extent that more than twenty innocent people died. The evidences for their convictions of witchcraft were totally absurd. Harry was interrupted from his indignant thoughts by the pathetic sight of Derrick and his gang walking up the path to the gate. Their faces were smudged with dirt and their clothes had grass stains and mud on them; parts of it were even jagged and torn. And one of them was limping slightly. They glared at him as they passed, but Harry just looked innocent and pretended to read his book, surreptitiously keeping an eye on them in case they tried anything on him.

Since that incident, Derrick and his gang tread around Harry carefully, giving him wary glances. Needless to say, they also stopped bothering him, having learnt their lesson that he was not to be trifled with. Keleman, however, is another matter.

"You insolent brat! How dare you talk back at me? I'll teach you to be respectful to your elders. Oh yes I will…" Keleman lashed out at Harry, finishing his tirade with a malicious smile. He then grabbed Harry by his upper arms and dragged him to his office, leaving the other orphans to stare after them. He pushed Harry inside and locked the door behind him before going to a cupboard, seeming to search for something. Harry lifted his chin and stared defiantly at Keleman, masking his fear with anger. But his mask slipped when he saw what Keleman held in his hands.

It was a round wooden baton 18 inches long, 1½ inches wide, and clad in a light green woolen cloth. Each end had ¼ inch strips of the green cloth stitched around as a sort of decoration. There were nine tails of a stoutish cord, each 24 inches long. The tails were knotted 3 times each at approximately ½ to 2 inches intervals, and the tips were bound with thread (to prevent fraying). The first knot was about 2 inches from the end of each strand.

Harry turned pale and his eyes widened as he recognised the object for what it was. A bloody cat-o'-nine-tail. He vividly remembered something he had read on corporal punishments in the 18th century. [Lashes (being struck with a whip) were administered in the hundreds at a time and sometimes the prisoner died as a result. He was often scarred for life. Often the whip was the dreaded "cat 'o nine tails" which was a whip with nine separate woven tails with a knot and three strands at the end of each one…] The book even had a ghastly picture of a man who had been whipped. He shuddered involuntary. ‘ I thought those things extinct ages ago. Where did he get that?'

‘Ok, this is not good.' Harry watched fearfully as Keleman advanced on him with the instrument of torture in his hands, too shocked to run. The caretaker took advantage of this as he tied Harry to a chair and stripped him to the waist, leaving him bound and helpless. He fingered the whip almost lovingly, a sadistic twist to his lips. "You know, I haven't had to use this for a long time," he said conversationally. "But I'm sure there's nothing that a good lashing can't fix. And that includes your insolent tongue and defiant behavior."

Harry closed his eyes as Keleman raised the whip, sending a plea heavenward, ‘Somebody save me'. Keleman brought the whip down with a "crack", striking on Harry's bare back. Harry clenched his jaw, preventing a scream. At first it only caused a mild stinging, but Keleman kept bringing down the whip on the same spot, striking weakened flesh repeatedly. It gradually became more painful as his skin broke open, exposing underlying muscles and bleeding flesh. "Ah! Help! Stop! Please stop… I won't do it again…" he screamed as the pain became too much, sobbing and pleading for mercy.

Keleman gave a few more lashes for emphasis before he finally stopped. Stepping back, he glanced at the boy's lacerated and bruised back, admiring his handiwork for a second before bringing his full attention back to the broken boy hanging limply from the chair. "See that you remember this lesson, boy," he said coldly. Harry, already barely conscious, slumped to the floor in a dead faint as he was untied, welcoming the darkness that brought oblivion from the pain.

Keleman looked down and frowned at the unconscious boy. It was all well and good to punish children when they misbehave, but he would get into trouble with the law if the silly boy died from all those bleeding. ‘Boys these days can't even take a little beating,' he thought in disgust. ‘Well, better get someone to bandage him up before he bleeds all over my carpet and does more damage to it.' So he left, leaving Harry alone in the dark.

No one saw an ethereal figure with copper red tresses bending over the unconscious boy, smoothing out his hair from his sweaty brow, murmuring soothing but indiscernible words. Some would say it was a hallucination, others would think it a ghost. But no one saw. And no one heard her sorrowful last words as she flickered out of sight, an echo of "I'm so sorry…" fading into the darkness.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, acutely aware of the pain in his back. How could he not be? Every nerve was screaming in protest. He looked around and realised that he was lying in his own bed, his back bandaged. ‘Strange. Who would be so nice?' he thought. He had fully expected himself to wake up still in Keleman's office, dried blood caked on his back, or perhaps he would not wake up at all, having died from the lashing. ‘Oh of course! Keleman. After all, he wouldn't want me to die on him and be jailed for child abuse and attempted murder.' Harry thought sardonically. ‘ That shrewd, sadistic, scheming bastard.'

Sitting up carefully, he walked slowly down to the dining hall where the orphans have their meals, his injuries paining him with every step he took. All the other children looked subdued, having heard the screams that came from Keleman's office the day before, knowing that something terrible had happened to him. They just don't know how terrible, or the extent of his injuries. Looking around at them, he saw that no one dared to meet his eyes, all staring at their feet and fidgeting guiltily.

After a few moments of silence he finally understood something: no one was going to help him. No one was on his side. Despite those times that he had helped them, no one would lift a finger to help him for fear of getting into trouble with Keleman.

His eyes hardened, and his face smoothed into a blank mask. He would not beg. He would not plead with them. He was too proud for that. And he knows it would not change their attitude towards him; he might as well save himself the humiliation. So he walked from the hall with whatever dignity he had left, his movements rigidly controlled, not sparing at backward glance at those whom he had once regarded as friends. Not close friends perhaps, but growing up together in the same orphanage should count for something. Before, they had stuck together and stood up for one another. But now they… even Dan was gone…

Once outside, he ran to the park where he and Dan used to play, where they used to laugh and have fun. Those happy times seemed a world away from the reality now. There, he allowed the tears to fall, crying for his loss of a dear brother, of innocence, of childhood, being forced to grow up faster than he should in a brutal world where good means nothing and people of authority and power always win. He cried until he could not cry anymore, until there were no more tears left.

‘I will not cry again,' he vowed resolutely. ‘There is nothing more to cry for. It is a sign of weakness I can't afford.'

He remembered thinking once ‘He is the bad guy, I'm their friend.'

‘Hah! What a joke!' he thought bitterly, hurt at their betrayal. ‘Who needs enemies when you have friends like this. Friends who would turn their backs on you just to protect themselves. I don't need friends. I don't need anyone. I'll take care of myself and what's mine, to hell with the rest of them! Who cares about standing up for what's right? Only power and authority truly matters in this world.'

From that moment on, Harry underwent a complete transformation. He became cold and calculative, his face an impassive mask, never showing any emotions that might betray his true feelings or intent. He kept his distance, watching and observing in silence, filing away any information or detail that might be useful. Gone were his naive notions of right and wrong, of fairness and justice. He only knew that no one would watch his back, so he'd have to look out for himself.

Rain clouds gathered over horizon, warning of an imminent thunderstorm. Lightning flashed across the night sky and thunder sounded in the distance, illuminating a lone figure standing on a hilltop in the dark. His black cloak billowed behind as the wind blew and rain droplets start to fall. But the figure just stood there, unmoving and seemingly unaffected, staring at the two graves in front of him.

Another flash of lightning revealed the words on the two headstones for a second.

Lily Evans-Potter

21st June 1960 - 31st Oct 1981

Beloved wife and loving mother

"Where there is love there is life."

James Potter

5th March 1960 - 31st Oct 1981

Hero of the light

"Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once."

The figure bowed his head slightly, silently grieving. "Lily..." a soundless cry filled with regret.

It has been five years, exactly five years since she died, but the pain is still fresh in his heart, a wound that was never fully healed with time.

"I'm sorry... so sorry... I failed you..." his soft voice was almost drowned out by the howling winds.

"Remember your promise..." a whisper sounded right beside his left ear, a shaft of colder air brushing by.

"Lily?" he looked up, startled. "Is that you Lil'?"

"Your promisess... Harry..."

"Yes I remember... Lily... please... show yourself..." he cried almost desperately, looking around for any sign of his dead sister, a ghost, an apparition, an angel... anything. But there was none.

"I never blamed you dear brother... please... don't torture yourself over my death... I love you... always..." the unseen voice faded away and the winds gradually calmed, leaving the figure to stand alone in the stark silence.

"But I blame myself. . ." he whispered brokenly to the stilled night.

A dark figure stood in the shadows, a silhouette in the dim light provided by the street lamps, looking at the perfectly normal house of number four Privet drive. He curled his lips in distaste at this obviously muggle street, everything so perfectly in place, everything except him that is. With his black cloak billowing out as he walked, his hood up and shielding his face from view, he looked like some vampire straight out of a horror movie. Or a wizard, if the wand twirling in his hands were any indication.

He would not be here if it were not for his sister and the promise he had made.

~Flashback~

"Promise me that you'll take care of Harry if anything happens to me and James." Lily said suddenly.

"Nothing will happen to you. Besides, he has his godfather." He said firmly, ignoring her request.

"Just in case. Please…" Stray tendrils of hair framed her delicate fair face, the lighting accentuating her pert nose and high cheekbones.

Beseeched with her pleading green eyes, he felt his resolve softening. "Oh alright, I promise. If only to set your mind at ease."

She smiled then, a lovely sweet smile, and said simply, "Thank you."

"But you should know.. that.. circumstances.. will not allow me to take care of Harry."

She looked pained at the subtle reminder, of what he is, and how dangerous it would be. "Yes.. yes I know…" she said softly. "Just.. make sure that he's alright once in a while ok?"

"Lily.. stop talking like you're going to die." He went over to her side and took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes, he said determinedly, " Nothing will happen to you. I won't let it happen."

"I know you won't. But there's nothing you can do." She looked to the fire burning in the hearth, the dancing firelight casting flitting shadows on her lovely profile.

He gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look at him. "Is it another vision?" he asked urgently, worried.

She turned away, saying nothing.

But he knew.

There was a sinking feeling in his heart and he grounded out angrily, "Can't you prevent it if you know what's going to happen?"

"It's for the best." she said quietly.

"But I don't want you to die!" He was getting more agitated, pacing the room furiously.

"Would you rather more people die while I live?" she queried.

"Yes!" he said emphatically, stopping in his tracks to look at her.

"Luc! How could you say that?!" said Lily, shocked at his answer and seeing the truth of it in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Lil" he said, running his hand through his silky hair in frustration. "I just don't want to lose you."

"You won't lose me. I'll be here, in your heart." She smiled tenderly at him.

He sighed, knowing nothing would change her mind. She would not save herself, but nothing would stop him from trying to save her.

‘I will not fail.' he vowed resolutely.

The clock struck ten, its chiming interrupting his thoughts, and signaling an end to Lily's visit. She stood up reluctantly and they walked to the door.

"Take care of yourself, Luc." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"You too, sister. Don't do foolish things."

She smiled weakly at that. "I love you... brother" she hugged him, too choked to say anymore.

Surprised by her act of affection, he awkwardly patted her back before abandoning his restraints and hugged her back tightly. "Love you too sis.." he whispered.

They parted and stood silent for a long time, just looking at each other. Lily seemed to be memorizing his face, every detail, every feature, as if seeing him for the last time. He did the same, his gaze taking in her fair complexion, her perfectly arched eyebrows and deep green eyes framed by long eyelashes, her small pert nose and high cheekbones, her trembling red lips and stubborn chin, her graceful neck and slender figure…

"Well, goodbye then." She gave him a sad smile and left, apparating home once she had passed the manor's anti-apparation wards.

He stared unseeingly at the place where she had stood, knowing in his heart that this would perhaps be the last time they would see each other.

Alive.

Because, either one or both of them will end up dead before this nightmare is over…

~End Flashback~

Indeed, despite his best efforts, it was not enough to save Lily. Too late. He was too late. ‘If only…' he thought regretfully. ‘No. There is no point dwelling on the past. Time to focus on the task at hand.'

He looked to the house again, the blinds were drawn and there was no visible movement from inside the house. It was nearing dawn. Well, he could wait a few more moments until they wake up. After all he had been here since the better part of the night, thinking, brooding. There was no way he could sleep after what happened tonight.

‘Just check to see that the boy is healthy and happy and I'll be on my way.' he thought unconcernedly. ‘He should be safe, considering that Dumbledore placed him with his relatives. The ancient magic* would protect him as long as he is in their care.'

‘Are you really not curious to see Harry? See how he looked like? He is, after all, Lily's child.. and your nephew.' An annoying inner voice said.

He shrugged it off, ‘He doesn't know. And he don't need to know.'

‘Ah, but you know.' The irritating voice reminded him.

‘Shut up. Just go away.' he growled, vexed.

‘Whatever you say, dear…'

He sighed, feeling an on-coming headache. ‘I really must be going crazy if I'm hearing voices and talking to myself.'

Just then, the door of number four Privet drive opened, and revealed a thin, blonde-haired woman putting out the milk bottles.

‘That must be Lily's sister.' He thought idly before quickly striding forward. The woman looked up, startled at his appearance. She took in his attire, the black cloak he wore and the wand in his hands. Her eyes widened in fear and revulsion as she realized what he was. She took a step back and started to slam the door, but his hand came up to stop her, effectively blocking her attempt.

"That wasn't very nice of you, Mrs Dursley." He said in a dangerously soft voice.

"Wha- what do you want? Your kind are not welcomed here." she stammered.

"Why, I thought I'd drop by to see Harry. Surely you wouldn't mind." There was a barely veiled threat in his seemingly polite words.

She looked even more fearful now, her eyes darting about nervously. "What are you talking about? There is no Harry here."

He leaned forward, intimidating her with his closeness, his eyes narrowed. "Don't play games with me. The.. results will not be pleasant. I know Harry was left in your care."

"I – we- he.. Vernon sent him to an orphanage." She finally blurted out.

"What. Did. You. Say?" his tone was cold, anger palpable in every word.

She flinched at his words, not daring to repeat what she just said in fear of provoking him even more. ‘Oh God, he is going to kill me! I knew we shouldn't have sent that brat away. I knew they would find out.' she thought hysterically.

"Where is he now?" His tone promised dire consequences if she did not know the answer.

"I – I'm not sure.. some- somewhere in London?" she ventured a guess.

"Are you answering my question or asking me a question?" he sneered.

He looked at her cowering in fear and thought in contempt, ‘How could Lily ever be related to this weak, pitiful-excuse-of-a-human muggle?' His fingers fairly itched to curse her into oblivion for her stupidity. ‘Leaving Harry Potter in an orphanage with absolutely no protection! Where every former deatheater could get their hands on him. Sweet Merlin! This is worse than I thought.'

He glared at her. "You better pray to whatever gods you believe in that Harry is safe and unharmed, or I'll be back. And this time it's no empty threat."

His silky voice dropped to a whisper, "There are spells that can inflict such pain that you'll wish for death. *White-hot knives piercing every inch of your skin, feeling like your head is going to burst in pain. You will scream until you lose your voice, and continue screaming in silent anguish after your voice is gone. I could make you torture and kill your husband and son. You will cut them up, finger by finger, limb by limb. And watch as blood spurts out from their wounds, watch as they scream for you to stop. But you won't be able to stop yourself. After they are dead, you will look down on their mutilated bodies and realize what you have done. They are dead but you will live, slowly going insane in your own tortured mind, seeing the blood, hearing those screams over and over again, knowing that you killed them with your own hands."

His words mercilessly forced her to the dark edges of her mind, teetering on the precipice, falling over the brink into the enclosing darkness. The soft hypnotizing voice lulled her into seeing the horrifying images in her mind's eye, and her eyes glazed over, dilated in terror. Her breathing was short and shallow, her face turning pale. He smiled chillingly at her reaction, satisfied.

The mind is a powerful thing if you know how to manipulate it. Just a few choice words and the right tone to push it a little in the right direction would give you the desired result. In this case, it was fear and horror. Of course, a little spell to drive her imagination into overrun didn't hurt either.

'And she wasn't even physically tortured.' he smirked inwardly.

A moment later left no trace of the man once standing there as he apparated away.

----ooOOoo----

He appeared just outside of his manor's wards and the gates swung open, letting him in as the magic in them recognized their master's magic and the inherent blood that flows through his veins.

He strode up the path and the great wooden doors flung open upon sensing his presence and current foul mood. A house-elf appeared hurriedly to take his cloak, squeaking, "Master is back! Is there anything master needs?"

"No, Mindy. Do not disturb me until dinner." He replied, preoccupied with his thoughts and moving towards his study, not acknowledging Mindy's "Yes master. As you wish master." before she disappeared with a pop.

'First: to find Harry as soon as possible.' Objective firmly in mind, he looked through various books, searching for ways to track a person. But it was not easy, especially since he had not seen said person since he was born and did not have anything belonging to him. Most of the spells or potions required something that has a connection to the missing person.

~Several hours later…~

'Damnit!' he thought in frustration as he discarded yet another useless book on top of the rapidly growing pile of books on his desk. 'There must be something…'

Looking down at the short list of spells and potions that might help, he began to tick off those that definitely would not work. "Tracking spell-no, short of Harry's personal belonging. Sensing potion-no, there's no strong emotional connection between us. Summoning charm-no, I don't even know what he looks like. Detection spell- no, not unless he uses magic. Blood potion.. hmm.. it might work… but the brewing process will take 49 days…"

He furrowed his brow in concentration, contemplating his options. 'There's really no other feasible choice. I guess Harry will have to wait while I make that potion.' With that, he got up and left the manor, apparating to Diagon Alley where he will get the needed potions ingredients at *Slug & Jiggers Apothecary.

Harry sat under a tree, reading, ignoring the other children who were playing and running about, shouting at the top of their voices. He sighed irritably as another shrill shriek broke his concentration. 'Why can't they make better use of lunch break instead of doing silly things? I'll never finish the book at this rate.'

Suddenly, a faint voice interrupted his thoughts.

// … stupid humanss… makes so much noisses…//

Harry quickly looked around. 'Where did that come from?'

There was no one near him but a movement in the grass caught his eye. A small snake ringed with red, yellow and black bands was slithering towards the tree. Harry's breath caught in his throat as the snake looked up, its round pupils seemed to stare straight at him. For a second he thought the snake was going to attack him, but it only ignored him and continued to make its way to the tree. Obviously, it did not see him as a threat.

Harry started to relax, only to stare in shock as he heard the snake muttering //oh great... another stupid human…//

// I'm not a stupid human.// Harry said indignantly to the snake's back, or rather tail, before he could stop himself.

'Wait a minute. Since when do snakes talk?!' he thought belatedly.

The snake stopped still, slowly turning its head back to look at him. // you can Speak!// Amazement was plain in its voice.

//Of course I can speak. Problem is, how come you can speak.// said Harry curiously.

//you don't get it, do you?// The snake sounded amused, now slithering towards him.

//get what?// Harry was confused. 'This is just too weird. How many people actually talk to snakes?'

//you're Speaking my language, not the other way round.//

//I am? How?// Harry was intrigued by this new-found ability.

//I don't know. It's a rare ability of wizards.//

//Wizards!? So I'm a wizard?//

//of course! Mere muggles certainly won't be able to talk to us.//

//oh.// Harry fell silent, thinking about what this might mean.

//there have not been another Speaker since He disappeared.//

//who?// Harry asked, not having the slightest inkling as to who the snake was referring to.

//Voldemort.//

//who's that?//

//he's the dark lord.//

//he is evil?//

//you could say that.//

//oh.// It's all too much for Harry to process at the moment. His brain is working furiously, trying to understand the what, how and whys of this whole situation. Then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch break.

He stood up reluctantly. //well I got to go for lessons. Will you still be here later?//

//sure.// The snake slithered up the tree and curled around a branch.

Assured, Harry ran inside the building, aware that lessons would be starting in… '30 seconds!'. He stopped outside the classroom, breathless, trying to compose himself before entering. It would not do for everyone to see him so flustered.

"Harry. Why are you standing outside? Lesson's starting." Ms Mackenzie's voice came from behind and she ushered him in.

"Class, please turn to page 117 of your textbooks…"

-----ooOOoo-----

Harry stared impatiently at the clock as lesson neared the end, eager to see the snake again. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. He raced out of the class as soon as they were dismissed, surprising Ms Mackenzie as he was usually not so eager to go back to the orphanage.

//Where are you?// Harry hissed softly as he neared the tree.

//Above you.// came the reply.

Harry looked up, and saw the snake hanging lazily from a branch. //I cant stay long. Would you like to come back with me?//

//Back? To where?// The snake rises its head in curiosity.

//The orphanage where I live. Some children have pets so it's allowed.// said Harry, not knowing that those pets allowed are restricted to harmless and cuddly animals, like stray cats and dogs. Definitely not including potentially dangerous snakes that bite.

//Pets? So I'll be your pet?//

//I guess... if you want to.// said Harry uncertainly, not sure how a wild snake would take to being owned as pet.

//Is there food there?//

//Uh... there are lots of mice.//

The snake thought for a moment before replying. //Sounds agreeable. I'll go.//

//Great!// said Harry enthusiastically, happy that he'll finally have someone to talk to, a new friend.

//Erm, do I carry you or something?// he asked, not knowing anything about handling snakes.

//Just hold out your arm and I'll curl around you.//

Harry held out his left arm and felt the snake's cool texture as it slithered onto his arm, curling around it comfortably. It felt weird, but strangely pleasant, like wearing a thick cool bracelet. //Luckily you're small// hissed Harry as he stroked its head gently.

//I'm not small! I just haven't grown to my full length yet.//

Harry hid a smile at its vehement protest. //Ok then. Do you have a name?//

//Name? Why do I need a name?//

//So I can call you. Surely I cant keep calling you 'it' or 'snake'//

//It! I'll have you know that I'm a she!// If it were possible for a snake to sound outraged, this would be it.

//Sorry. So... can I name you?//

//Sss… //

//How about Sandy?//

//Sandy…// she said slowly, sounding out the name. Apparently finding it satisfactory, she nodded and hissed // I like it.//

Harry smiled. //Sandy it is then.//

//Can we go now master?//

//You can call me Harry.//

//Harry… Master…// Sandy's forked tongue snaked out to lick him affectionately.

Harry was startled but it warmed his heart. 'Perhaps I'll finally have a friend that will not betray me.'

A thought suddenly occurred to him. //Sandy, are you poisonous?//

//Yess... but don't worry, I won't bite you.//

//You can't bite the other children too. Otherwise they might take you away.// Harry warned.

//Promise I won't bite them… unless they threaten you…//

//Thank you.// said Harry softly, touched by her loyalty and protectiveness of him.

He was so engrossed in talking to Sandy that he did not realize they had already reached the orphanage entrance. And that all the children were staring wide-eyed at the hissing, brightly colored snake curled around his arm.

A piercing scream caused Harry to look up immediately. He was met with a trembling finger pointed at Sandy and numerous frightened looks. "What? Never seen a snake before?" He said coldly, daring the other children to object to his new pet.

"But- but it- it's a snake." Alex stammered, stating the obvious, as if it explains everything.

Harry's eyes raked the blonde-haired boy with a hard look, then smiled slyly, saying sweetly," Correction: it's a highly poisonous coral snake."

The other children shrank back even further at his revelation.

"Thus, I advise you not to annoy us, otherwise you might find yourself at the receiving end of her bite." Harry added causally before making his way back to his room.

//They are scared of me…// Sandy hissed.

//Yar but don't worry about them… no one can take you away.//

//I shall bite them if they do.//

//Yes, that's a good idea…// Harry stroked down her length absently, thinking about the problems he might have with the added presence of Sandy.

'Wonders if anyone will tell Keleman…' He sighed. 'It's only a matter of time before he finds out. Never mind, we'll deal with it when it comes.'

He did not have to wait long. A loud hammering on the door broke his reverie.

"Open the door right now!" Keleman shouted.

'It's not even locked.' Harry rolled his eyes and got off the bed. Opening the door, he smiled politely and asked," Is anything wrong, sir?"

"What's wrong? You dare ask me what's wrong when you were the one who bought a poisonous snake back?!" Keleman ranted.

"Oh. Do you mean Sandy?" He asked innocently, holding his left hand out for Keleman to see.

"Argh! Get that snake away. I want it gone by dinner time or you will get it." Keleman unconsciously stepped back from him. Even his threat sounded weak.

'So, he's afraid of snakes eh…' Harry thought smugly.

"No, she's staying with me."

"You insolent boy, see if I don't teach you a lesson." Keleman made a move towards him but stopped as Sandy hissed fiercely at him, bearing her teeth threateningly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Coral snakes have powerful neurotoxic venom that attacks the nervous system and cause death as a result of heart failure or suffocation." said Harry serenely.

"You- you're threatening me?" Keleman spluttered.

"Just a little reminder." Harry smiled pleasantly, a fake smile never reached his eyes.

Keleman stared at him furiously, torn between wanting to beat him up and his fear of the snake. He looked like he was going to burst in anger soon. "Fine." He finally gritted out. "You watch out. I'll get you. Eventually." Then he stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut.

'Score 1 for me!' thought Harry victoriously. 'Oooh that look on his face. I thought I'd never see the day when he was afraid of me.'

For the first time in months, he felt like laughing out loud and jumping around gleefully. That he did not do so was because of caution. He did not want to push Keleman too far by gloating too blatantly.

//You are happy// Sandy stated.

//Yes, very, very happy.//

//Why?// asked Sandy curiously.

//Because I won, and you're staying with me. Thank you for helping me.//

//What did I do?// Sandy was clueless.

//He's scared of you.//

//Oh. I am glad I could help.//

//So am I, so am I…//

However Harry knew he could not afford to be complacent, as Keleman would be watching him closely for any opportunity to strike. And the punishment would be worse than the last time. 'I'd better enjoy having the upper hand while I can. Since I'm going to be punished anyway, might as well milk this advantage for all it's worth.'

//Don't you just love power, Sandy?//

//Yes… but don't get corrupted by it.//

//I won't, but the feeling is exhilarating.//

Silence.

Then, // tell me more about wizards, Sandy.//

"Letter for Harry Potter," the postman called out, standing at the gate of the orphanage in the late afternoon.

Harry looked up from his books and walked towards the postman curiously. "Yes?" he asked.

"You're Harry Potter?" the postman asked for confirmation and Harry nodded in the affirmative. "Well, someone sent you a parcel and a letter. Please sign here."

Harry scribbled his name on a piece of paper and took the items from the postman. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day." The postman replied cheerfully and left.

Harry was staring at the letter and parcel, wondering who sent it. Nobody ever sent him anything, and none of the orphans ever gets mail. He turned over the envelope and opened it carefully, thinking that something was awfully familiar about the handwriting at the front.

Dear Harry,

How are you, bro? I've missed you. Sorry I took so long to write but dad got a new job in London and we have to move over there, thus it took us a few weeks to settle down and get use to everything. It's good here, they treat me well, though I wish you were here too.

Does Keleman still beat you up? Try to stay out of his way okay? I don't want you to get hurt again. And tell Derrick if he and his bunch of bullies ever hurt you, I will personally come back to pummel him.

The parcel is a birthday present for you (yes, I didn't forget). Hope you like it. Take care and write back soon.

Love you,

Dan

'Dan,' Harry thought in shock, his fingers trembling and tears threatened to fall. A wave of love enveloped him as he reread the letter again. For the first time since Dan left, Harry felt happy and loved, protected even though Dan is not physically there. He smiled slightly at Dan's usual protectiveness of him, evident even in a letter he wrote.

Clutching the letter and parcel tightly, he hurried to his room where he could open his present in private and write a reply to Dan, away from the prying eyes of the other orphans. Harry opened the parcel carefully and his eyes sparkled in childish delight as he saw a black dog soft toy lying among the nest of coloured paper. He hugged it to his chest, feeling the soft fur beneath his hands. Looking at his new toy, he felt a tug in the back of his mind, there was something familiar about the image of a black dog…

But he can't quite recall it in the distant memory of his childhood, just the feeling that it was something important. Unbidden, a name came to him. "Padfoot," he whispered to the black dog, though he had no idea what it meant.

//Master, there are more things inside.// Sandy hissed, awake from her sleep and having slithered into the box to explore.

Distracted, Harry put Padfoot down and turned his attention to her. //let me see.//

He picked up a book titled "The Little Prince" and found some chocolates hidden by the shreds of coloured paper. He grinned to himself, trust Dan to know what he likes. His happiness dimmed as he thought of Dan, the times they spent together, his laughter, his presence, his playful teasing… how he missed him.

He took out a paper and pen, biting his bottom lip as he thought of what to write.

Dear Dan,

I am well. I've really missed you. I thought you'd forgotten about me when you did not write. I wish you were here too, or that I could be with you. Keleman has stopped bothering me and I think Derrick and his gang have learnt their lesson after being chased by the dogs in the warehouse.

I love the presents, thank you. Can you come back sometimes to see me?

Love you too,

Harry

Harry folded the letter and put it into an envelope, but did not post it straightaway as he had no stamps. 'Maybe I could get some from Ms Mackenzie tomorrow,' he thought.

----ooOOoo---

After class Harry stayed back to talk to Ms Mackenzie.

"Ms Mackenzie?" He asked hesitantly.

She looked up from her work, "Yes, Harry?"

"I - can I have a stamp please? I need to post a letter."

"Sure, what do you need it for?" She asked while rummaging in her drawer for some stamps.

"Erm, it's for a colouring competition. I need to submit it by post." Harry flushed a bit at the lie, guilty for lying to her when she has been so nice.

Ms Mackenzie mistook his flush for embarrassment. "Here you go. Good luck for the competition."

"Thank you Ms Mackenzie. Have a nice day." Harry smiled brilliantly and took the stamps, walking out of the room with a spring in his steps.

Ms Mackenzie stared after him, amazed at the transformation a smile can do. 'Looks like this competition must be really important to him to make him so happy. It's a nice change from his usual guarded expression.' she thought.

//why did you lie to her?// Sandy asked curiously.

//well… I was afraid she wouldn't give me the stamps.// Harry fidgeted uneasily as his conscience made its presence known.

//that's not nice.// Sandy voiced his thoughts unknowingly.

Harry groaned, why does his conscience and Sandy sing the same tune. //it didn't hurt anyone.//

Sandy fell silent upon hearing his sharp tone.

//sorry I didn't mean to snap.// Harry said after a moment's silence.

//it's ok.// Sandy's forked tongue snaked out to lick his arm, a sign that he was forgiven.

----ooOOoo----

"Hello Jamsie, Lily. And how's my favourite godson?" A tall man with black hair and blue eyes walked through the door, a grin on his face.

The godson in question gurgled in response and stretch out his small hands, bright green eyes looking up at the man. "Oh look! He likes me already." He tickled the baby, causing him to squeal.

"Sirius! Stop it! Harry's going to have nightmares." A woman with long copper tresses scolded while trying to get the baby away from him.

"Aww Lily don't spoil the fun." Sirius gave her his best adorable puppy-dog look.

"Nah uh, doesn't work on me." Lily said sternly.

The man disappeared and in its place was a huge black dog, wagging its tail. The dog pounced on Lily and licked her face, slobbering all over.

"Eww… Sirius!" Lily yelled.

"Padfoot, down boy, down." James ordered, trying to keep a straight face. The black dog got off and turned towards James. "And don't even think about it," warned James as he saw the mischievous look in the blue eyes.

"This house is going to turn into a zoo soon," Lily muttered, but a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.

The image blurred and the swirl of colours merge into another scene.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off ---"

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily screamed and used her body to shield the baby from the man who was advancing upon both of them.

"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…" A furious commanding voice said. The man's eyes glowed red as he raised a wooden stick threateningly.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --" Lily pleaded with the man, desperate to protect her child.

"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of green light suddenly sped towards the woman, the child, towards Harry…

Bright. It was so bright, consuming his whole vision. Nothing but green.

Screaming. Terrified screams, loud, so loud. Then…

Silence. Nothing. Black. It was all black.

Falling, into darkness, falling…

Harry suddenly jerked upright, sweat beading his brow and breathing heavily.

Green.

And he remembered.

The dark-haired man strode down the hallway quickly, black robes billowing behind him. He made his way down to the dungeons, where his private workroom was, to check on the almost complete potion. The potion was simmering, and he checked the timer, preparing to add the last ingredient when the potion turned blue. The timer sounded and as if on cue, the potion swirled and slowly changed to blue. He carefully added two Jobberknoll feathers and stirred it anti-clockwise twelve times, watching as the potion gradually cleared to a colourless solution.

'Finally,' he thought, satisfied at the end product. He then made a small cut on his finger and let a few drops of blood drip into the potion. The blood did not mix with the potion, its red only concentrated in the middle.

"Manifesto meton," the man muttered while using his wand to draw a pentagram in the air above the potion. The red color of the drops of blood slowly spread, vein-like lines branching out to form words.

Harry Potter

Then the words merged and changed.

Marden Orphanage, Hampshire

"Deletrius."

----ooOOoo----

The children stared in unveiled curiosity at the strange man walking into the orphanage. He wore a long, black dress-like coat and black pants, and the expression his face would have sent even the bravest orphans running. The children parted like the Red Sea before him in his rapid advancement.

He suddenly stopped and turned to the nearest child. "Where is your caretaker?" he demanded.

The unfortunate girl of his attentions took one look at his scowling face and angry tone, and promptly burst into tears. He sighed irritably, surely he's not that scary?

In an attempt to placate the sobbing girl, he conjured a rose and handed it to her. "Hush don't cry," he said in a softer voice. "I'm just looking for the caretaker of this orphanage. Can you tell me where he is?"

The sniffling girl gave him a trembling smile and took the rose shyly. "He's -hic- in the office down the hallway," she said timidly, looking at him hesitantly, deciding that he's not so scary after all.

"Thank you," He patted her head absently and continued down the hallway. Nearing the office, he heard shouts and screaming.

"You can't take away my things!" a furious yell was heard, high and childish.

"You dare to give me orders on what to do?" the voice was deeper, a quiet anger in the reply.

"I- I'll get Sandy here!" the child sounded desperate.

A pause, then sneering. "Your precious snake is not here to help you."

He walked in without bothering to knock, interrupting the argument as the occupants of the room turned towards the door to stare at him.

"I'm looking for a child by the name of Harry Potter." He said curtly, abandoning all pleasantries. His gaze flicked to the predatory stance of the man who was moving towards the child before he had interrupted them. And then to the child, taking in his messy black hair, some purple bruises on his arm, and the ragged clothes that hung on his small frame.

Keleman looked at the strangely dressed man, and started to bustle in anger. "Now look here, you have no right to just waltz in without so much as a by your leave and make demands. Can't you see I'm busy disciplining one of the boys?"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say to the stranger. His lips tightened in anger and he strode to Keleman, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "I have seen the results of your 'discipline'," he snarled as he glance at the wide-eyed boy in the corner. "And they border on abuse. Now tell me where is Potter or I'll end your miserable life and make your death very unpleasant." At this, he smiled in a distinctly feral manner that left no doubt in Keleman's mind that he would have no qualms about killing him if need be.

Beads of sweat start to form on Keleman's forehead and now he could see that the stranger was different from the usual clients who wanted to adopt. It was there in his dark and forbidding manner, his cold expressionless face, and commanding voice. It bespoke a man who was used to being feared and obeyed, intimidating others to get what he want. He had misjudged the stranger badly.

"There- there's no Potter here," Keleman stuttered.

"Do not lie to me. I know he's here."

"The-the orphans… they have no- no surnames."

The stranger glared at him like he was some filthy pest he longed to squash beneath his boots. "I don't suppose there is a Harry here then?"

"There's only one," Keleman nodded nervously at the boy in the corner, who was currently trying to sneak out of the room unnoticed.

"Stop right there." The stranger said sharply.

Harry winced and stood still. He had enjoyed watching Keleman squirm under the stranger's intimidation, until the conversation involved him. From what he had observed, the man seemed even more dangerous than Keleman, and it would not do to anger him unduly.

The stranger released his grip on Keleman's shirt and walked towards Harry. Harry felt hands on his shoulders that slowly turned him around to face the man. His face became a shade paler, and he lifted Harry's hair to reveal a lightning blot scar on his forehead. Harry bit his lips as the man's grip on him tightened painfully.

"Look out!" Harry cried as Keleman tried to attack the stranger from behind with a metal pole.

The stranger quickly spun around and drew out a thin wooden stick from the folds of his clothes, muttering something indiscernible. Red light shot out from the end of the stick and hit Keleman, causing him to collapse on the floor immediately.

Harry stared at the man in shock and breathed, "You're a wizard."

The man looked at him inscrutably for a moment, then said, "Yes. And I'm taking you away. Pack your things, we're leaving."

Harry had so many questions but the look on the man's face prevented him from saying anything. He did not know the whys and hows, but something inside him told him to trust the stranger. So he went to his room to pack his few possessions, the letter from Dan, his soft toy Padfoot, a few books that the older children discarded plus the new one that Dan had given him. Lastly, he scoped Sandy up from the bed, where she was basking in the light streaming through the windows, and asked her to curl around his arm.

//Where are we going, master?//

//Away from here.//

//We are running away?//

//No. A wizard is taking me away.//

//Who?//

A pause.

//I don't know.// said Harry finally, softly.

They had reached Keleman's office, where the stranger was sitting on the couch, idly twirling his wand as he watched Keleman thrashed about on the floor, screaming silently. Keleman stilled as soon as the man saw Harry standing at the door.

//Master? Are you sure about going with him?// Sandy hissed warily as she eyed the dark man approaching them.

//I - yes.// Harry still trusted his instinct, although it seemed irrational to do so when there was no basis for this trust.

The man held out a glass ball to Harry, rainbow colors swirling in it. "Touch it. It will bring you to the manor."

Harry hesitantly stretched out his hand and touched a finger to the globe. Immediately he felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet had left the ground and his finger was stuck to the globe, pulling him onwards in a howl of wind and swirling colors. He stumbled as his feet slammed into the ground, but a pair of hands caught him around the arms, steadying him.

Harry looked into the obsidian black eyes of the stranger and gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

He stared at Harry for a long time before nodding curtly in acknowledgement of his thanks. Sandy raised her head and hissed at the stranger, and he looked to the source in surprise.

"Your pet?" he arched an eyebrow and asked amusedly.

"My friend." Harry said softly, stroking Sandy's back, coaxing her to back down.

He looked at the snake closely, then back at Harry. "You do know that she's poisonous?"

"She won't bite unless someone harms me." The message was clear as Harry looked straight at him. It was a warning, that he was not totally defenseless despite being a child in the presence of a possibly dangerous man.

The man's lips quirked upwards. "Come, I'll show you your room."

It was then that Harry noticed his surroundings. The large room had crystal chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling, ornaments and strange objects decorating the sides, framed portraits hanging on the walls- wait, are the pictures moving? Harry rubbed his eyes but-

The pictures are moving! he thought incredulously. Sandy did not mention that.

Harry realized that the man was already half way up the stairs and hurried to catch up with him. They went through carpeted corridors, turning at several corners until the man finally stopped at a wooden door, intricate designs beautifully carved on it. The door opened wide to reveal a large opulent room decorated in green and silver. A big bed was situated on the right, complete with polished oak bedside tables and lamps. There was a comfy looking couch and armchairs on the left, arranged around a fireplace. To the other end, another opened door leads to the bathroom.

"My room?" Harry was overwhelmed by the luxuries provided.

"All yours."

"Thank you." His green eyes glittered brightly.

"Rest now, the house elves will call you for dinner. Do not wander off by yourself. There are dangerous creatures around." The stranger turned to go.

"Wait! I- why?" Harry asked softly, the final one word encompassing all his questions.

Why did you bring me here? Why are you so nice? Why won't you explain? Why…

"We will talk later."

"How do I address you then?" Harry blurted out before the stranger could leave.

There was a long silence as the man stilled, and Harry thought he was not going to answer. He barely caught the strangled reply.

"You can call me Uncle."

With that, the stranger swept out of the room, robes swirling around him, leaving Harry to stare after him in stunned silence.