I Don't Want to be a Hero - Ch. 3

Accidental Magic

As Harry ran down the corridor he heard a suit of armor fall over, and a painting jumped off the wall. 'Accidental magic,' Mrs. Weasley had called it. While Ron had fallen asleep in their car on the train Harry had found mention of Accidental Magic in Hogwarts: A History and a small article about it in his History of Magic textbook. Both said that it was the pre-pubescent emotions of children that awakened their magic into spurts of energy fueled by high emotion. Accidental Magic faded when the young wizard or witch went to Hogwarts to learn how to harness, and control it.

Harry was fuming, and he did not care about the pockets of destruction caused by his Accidental Magic as he ran.

He was no hero! He never killed or destroyed a wizard! And, he wasn't going to kill that same wizard if he up and came back!

A window shattered.

Harry was so angry tears began to course down his cheeks, and he slowed his running as his sight became blurry. Finally he stopped, sat down on the base around a column that was one of several where he was that supported the roof far above him. He saw that he was in the Hall of Moving Stairs just off the Entrance Hall. Removing his glasses, he picked up some of his robe, and wiped at the offending tears. He then walked the short distance away from the moving stairs, and through an arched doorway into the Entrance Hall.

As he sniffled, and thought of this new world, and all its wonders crashing down his ears in silence he contemplated the huge doors that led outside.

When Hagrid had told him he was a wizard, and told him about Magic, and showed him the amazingly brilliant Diagon Alley he thought he had been admitted into a world he could only ever have dreamt of when he read his mangled copy of 'Merlin'. He had wanted this world. It was special. It was the sort of thing that took one's average, unwanted life and turned it into something that was wonderful.

Harry recalled that night when he had been returned home to Privet Drive by Hagrid. He expected possibly a beating but that had not happened. Dudley ignored him, Uncle Vernon did yell at him about letting that fat, bushy-haired, filthy wizard come and disrupt their perfect lives. Luckily Uncle Vernon had fallen asleep before he finished.

It was Aunt Petunia who became the really scary one that night.

"You should have been killed with your parents," she had spat from the kitchen table where she sat alone with a mug of tea steaming, and un-touched.

Harry let the insult slip off his back. He had heard it before. Instead, he had questions. Normally he would keep those inside, and never mention them, but after the day in Diagon Alley maybe his aunt would answer them.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth, Aunt Petunia?" asked Harry softly.

"I couldn't," she replied angrily. "The Blood Wards that Bumblebore created wouldn't let me." She did not give him a chance to ask about the Blood Wards when she got up from the table, walked over, and slapped him. "I wanted to drown you but when I tried, I couldn't. The only thing I could do was this..." Harry tried to duck away from the next slap but she cuffed his ear, and he crouched in pain and held his hand protectively over his ear.

"Please Aunt Petunia! I've always been a good boy!"

His aunt hissed at him. "You've always been a waste of our food, and our money, and space in our home. I hope you die in that fancy world of magic, you freak! Then I won't ever have to see you again."

His aunt had grabbed his upper arm (the bruises from her fingers were still there - an ugly mass of healing green and yellow and red) and threw him into his cupboard under the stairs. He had scraped his shin on his new trunk, and Hedwig, stuffed into her cage, had ruffled her feathers, and hooted at him as Aunt Petunia shut, and locked the door. Neither saw the light of day except for when Uncle Vernon threw bread and water into the cupboard. In the evening Dudley took him to the loo.

Finally, a week had gone by. Uncle Vernon had yanked Harry out of the cupboard, ordered him to shower, and once that was done he piled him in the car with his trunk and Hedwig where they were all dropped at King's Cross Train Station.

All of that is what Harry had hoped his wonderful, new life would save him from. He would go to school, learn lots of magic, and never have to put up with the cruelty of his relatives again. As he had listened to the terrible stories at dinner that everyone seemed to think were so great, as he met ghosts, and talking griffins, and then listened as the Headmaster told him that he was wanted dead by Death Eaters, and was Fated to kill a wizard who was dead but probably not so... the ugly and scarred side of that world presented itself.

Harry wanted none of it. It was more than just unfair that everyone else thought he was a hero it was stupid that they also thought he was such a powerful wizard that he had killed the strongest Dark Wizard in the world when he was just a year old.

The sniffling child walked up to the huge doors, grabbed one of the large rings that served as a door handle, and pulled. It surprised Harry that the door, though slow since it was heavy, did open. When it opened just enough for him to slip through he went outside, and he began to walk. As he drew further away from the castle he went faster and faster until he was running. He had no idea where he would go but it would not be back to his relatives, and he would certainly not go back to Hogwarts. He would find a way to leave it all behind. Tears were falling again as he ran because Harry was sure that his decision meant he would never see his first and only friend Ron ever again.