Here I am in a hole under the stairs. It's early morning. I am not asleep for about 16 minutes now. Why won't I come out and have a breakfast? Well, living in this house full of imbeciles who are embarrassingly related to me I learned that it's best to stick to a routine.

"Get up! Now!" – loud shriek pierces the air.

It's time. Here I go, but before that.

"Morning freak!"

Little closet doors slam hard but I am not there to take a hit. Oh Dudley, you've done this hundred times over and still think yourself master of subterfuge. I can hear squeaky stairs, then your mouth breathing, then comical stifled giggling. Please spare me.

As I enter the kitchen immediately I am put in charge of the food. Amazing how those people leave this vital activity to me after all the shit they put me through my whole life. Petunia Dursley, a housewife who whenever she can puts all the housewife duties on me because she has a need to stare at the empty street outside and lurk for god knows what. Mad woman.

"Faster with the food!" – spat Vernon.

Fat ogre sits there scanning a newspaper for all the "abnormal" information from all over the British Isles. He just loves to complain about weird stuff and keeps giving me a look while he's at it. This is troubling. Since times immemorial I've been called a freak by the members of this household. At first I thought it's pure hate but then things started to happen. I discovered I possess certain abilities. They aren't super great and powerful, just a bit of telekinesis and altering objects, nothing that makes me a superhero. Sometimes I get the feeling that they know even though I am absolutely certain they never saw me playing around.

Let's get back to the routine. After breakfast it's time for school. Yes! ... No. Not really. School isn't fun. I have literally no friends or even simple acquaintances. Partly because Dursleys spread bullshit among neighbours who then spread it further and partly because, what can I say, I am best student around here. I may sound arrogant but I am not. This school isn't prestigious in any way and being the best here isn't an achievement of any kind. Still, kids don't like feeling inferior so they keep away.

It was during one of the boring lectures I first discovered my gifts. I was playing with a pen, dismantling it and putting it back over and over again till it broke. Cheap plastic gets tired quickly. As it was the only pen I had and asking for help was out of question I did my best to fix it. I focused hard on forcing it back till surprisingly it did. I didn't get a chance to rejoice before I noticed that cheap plastic was now metal. Lots of experiments followed but my abilities were clearly limited to tiny objects. While not a live changing revelation it proved a fun distraction from otherwise dull hours of sitting and staring into nothing.

After school it's straight back home for me. Dudley can afford to fuck around but not me. I enter number 4, get some meagre amount of food that most would not classify as dinner and head to my "room". There in poor illumination I do homework and till nightfall read books procured from the library. I do not check them out when leaving because that information could somehow get to Dursleys and they would have another way of punishing me. Stealing is justified here… I think.

This is my live. All of it. There is nothing more.

Today is a special day, a sacred day that must not be ruined under any circumstances. Dudley's birthday. As I slide into the living room I get a warning from Vernon.

"One slip and you had it!" – said fatso while keeping his face disturbingly close to mine.

Sometimes he speaks in such riddles. He implies that something, I don't know what, not only will happen but happened in the past.

Next, as I am minding the food I get yet another warning this time from my dear aunt.

"This is the most important day, DON'T dare ruin it!" – spit Petunia.

Again, implication I ever did. As far as I remember I am always in some corner invisible to all.

And here rolls the birthday boy.

"Wow!" – eloquent commentary about a pile of presents on the table.

He isn't actually surprised. The same thing happens every year.

"Wait! What is this!" – screamed Dudley.

Oh my. Matrix is being altered. Agents deployed. What happened?

"Thirty-six! That's less than last year!" – said Dudley in accusing tone.

That's it. I am so fucking done here. At least I won't spend a whole day with those apes. At that moment the telephone rang. Petunia rushed to answer it while Dudley ripped the packages to pieces hoping quality topples quantity. Auntie was back quick and her face was a mix of frightened and annoyed. That's not good, troubles in this house link themselves to me constantly.

"She can't take him" – she said quietly.

"What! Why!" – roared Vernon.

"Mrs Figg had an accident. She broke her leg." – no empathy in the statement.

Dudley felt the danger.

"He can't go! Leave him here!" – whined Dudley.

"So he can set the house on fire? Or worse?" – Vernon responded.

What is wrong with those people? This is ridiculous. At that moment the doorbell rang, Dudley's friend arrived, there was no time for debates.

"You are coming with us, walk behind and don't bother anyone." – clear instructions from Vernon.

So exactly what I always do everywhere. What was that circus for? To the ZOO we go then. Might be fun.

For hour I strolled behind the pack. They took pictures, pointed fingers, screamed at animals to show themselves; typical yob behaviour. Then we got to the ice-cream parlour. I was given no ice-cream of course. Since I was so almighty bored and nobody was paying any attention it was time to have fun with my other ability. When I first found I can move objects with my mind I expected to train myself to toss cars into building, but no such luck. No matter how hard I try making a can roll on the ground is an absolute limit. Now for the target, there is this idiot feeding monkeys and there is an asshole throwing still lit cigarette into the trashcan. Choices, choices. Cigarette guy it is. Suddenly his shoelaces aren't tied anymore. Suddenly he steps on them and faceplants. I am this ZOOs dark knight.

"We are going boy." – says Vernon as he taps me a little too hard on the head.

I just nod. As we enter the reptile house I get a bad feeling. There seem to be lots of small voices all around me and none of them is coming from any of the people around me. Am I going crazy? Time to rest. I sit on the bench near a big terrarium with boa constrictor.

"Hey." – voice out of nowhere, kind of hissy.

Turning around I find myself face to face with a massive snake and it seems to be looking straight at me.

"Hey." – hissy voice clearly from boa.

"I always thought I am the sane one."

I didn't mean to say anything out loud and I didn't yet there is a voice of some sort. Am I hissing back at the snake? Madness.

"You don't look ill to me." – boa respond.

"Is it normal for you to be conversing with visitors?"

Getting desperate I know.

"No, never happened till now."

"Then why did you start."

"Instinct."

"Being a simple animal has its pros I see."

"Will you free me?"

"How? And why? Even if you leave this tank they will caught you in no time."

Before the snake answered I got pushed hard onto the floor. Dudley and his buddy took great interest in a reptile actually moving instead of hiding under rocks and water. Whole party was on their way. I am out of here. Or so I thought.

"Harry, talk to him again, he hid!" - Piers demanded.

I looked at Vernon to check if he heard and found that he was already looking at me, eyes spelling murder. Great.

After a week of careful observation and much stricter lock up times Dursleys calmed down a bit and things were more or less normal. Harry was minding food, fatso was reading a newspaper, fatso junior was dancing around while wearing a uniform of his new school for mentally impaired and auntie was standing over a tub with some grey whatever in it. I won't even ask. There was a click in the mail slot.

"Get it boy." – ordered Vernon.

Picking the mail I notice that one letter doesn't look like the others. It's heavy and not even from normal paper. Very weird and very not-Dursley. As it turns out it isn't, it's for one and only me. I face a choice now. Do I A, go back and declare I got a weird letter, in a weird paper, weirdly addressed? Or B, hide my letter under the stairs and give normal letters to the Dursleys? Tough decision. As I stroll back in I throw the mail on the table. Vernon goes through it and nobody bothers me. Good.

Back under the stairs I open my letter. Let's get to the meat of this.

"Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31."

Witchcraft and Wizardry. Wow. I really want to laugh and ridicule this but it all makes sense now. I have tiny powers now so I go to this school and get proper magic going on. How do I do it without Dursleys real… wait a minute, they know, they must! That's why they are so paranoid. Let's get this in the open!

"Uncle! Aunt!" – I say unnecessarily loud.

"Stop screaming boy, you mad or something!" – responded Vernon twice as loud.

"I am not mad uncle, just magical."

Deafening silence. They are gone. Heh. Take this. What will you say now?

"What freakish…what are you saying?!"

"I am saying I got this letter telling me I am a wizard and am going to wizarding school and I know that you knew."

"YOU BRAT!"

"Vernon stop." – auntie joining in, no wonder, after all she's the one who's related to me here.

"Of course we knew. My sweet sister was a freak; her husband was a freak, so inevitably you are a freak as well."

"So there are "freaks" out there who know that I am here and contacted me and you wanted to do what about it, ignore it?"

"And what will they do about it? They are the ones who brought you here after your parents got themselves killed? We are your guardians and we don't approve."

"So instead of sending me back to them you would rather have them storm your home asking questions?"

Utter idiocy. I can't be related to those people. While I put the palm of my hand on my face Dursleys debate whether they should help me remove myself from this place. Fairly quickly they concede to the power of logic and my aunt tells me to ignore "owling" whatever that is and jut put reply in a normal post-box.

Next day I am riding with Vernon to the centre of London where according to Petunia there is a pub for freaks. From there I must get to "Diagon Alley" and then to the bank and beg for a scholarship because Dursleys won't give me a penny. Why must I ask for a scholarship in a bank? Is Petunia a reliable source of information? Maybe I can just ask random wizard? I am definitely not in my element with all the unknown. Adventures aren't for me. I like observing from the side-line. Hopefully I won't find myself the centre of attention.

"Get out." – barked my dear loving uncle as he slams the gas pedal so hard the door closes itself.

After barely a couple seconds I spot an interesting phenomenon. There is a dirty looking pub just ahead yet nobody seems to notice. People as if on purpose dodge it with their eyes. Weird, therefore exactly the place I am looking for.

I casually enter and ignoring several looks in my direction I head straight for the bar.

"Excuse me, could you help me get to Diagon Alley?" – I ask in innocent, slightly lost and desperate tone.

"Sure kid, Hogwarts right?"

I just nod while keeping my childish but not too cheerful smile. Barman leads me out through the backdoor into a dead end, pulls a stick out of his pocket, presumably a wand, and start poking the brick wall. Suddenly bricks rearrange themselves into an archway. Cool.

"Could you tell me where the bank is?" – I ask because why not, I have literally no information about anything.

"Head straight till you reach a tall white building. Can't miss it."

So I went. On my way I passed various shops from seemingly normal bookstores to weird ones with animal parts hanging all over the place. Most people here wear robes, capes, cloaks in jarring colours. Complete aesthetical failure. I can't judge though because I am wearing oversized rags, this is the first thing that needs to be fixed when or rather if I get some money. Finally I reach the steps of "a tall white building" and meet with rather unpleasant creatures. Most people passing by don't mind them so I go with the flow and inside. Hundreds more creatures are in the building, talking with witches and wizards, now it's rather obvious that they run this place. I search for one who doesn't look too busy.

"Can I inquire for a scholarship here?" – I ask very uncertain expecting to be laughed at.

"Scholarship? Why is a muggleborn like you strolling around without supervision?" – ask annoyed creature.

Muggleborn? Well whatever.

"Muggleborn?"

"Kid don't waste my time. Where is the professor who brought you here?"

"There is no such person."

"Wha… What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

Creatures eyes widen and it glances at my forehead. Does he know me? Was he looking for my scar? This is worrying.

"Is there a problem?" – I ask.

"Potter you say. Mind letting a drop of your blood on this parchment?"

"Why?" – I am VERY worried now.

"Just a drop to confirm your identity."

Ok. Must be a magic parchment or something. Creature hands me a needle and I let one drop exactly. In red, a letters form themselves: Harry James Potter.

"Let's go to your vault Mr Potter."

I just follow. As long as I have money in the end all is good. We enter something like a mine, and get on a cart. It speeds up to roller-coaster level but thankfully before I get sick we stop.

"Potter vault."

Massive doors open and all I see is gold.

"That's quite a lot of gold." – I state stupidly.

"Nothing special. Potter account was inactive for almost ten years."

I pick gold coin, silver coin and bronze coin and wonder if they actually are from gold, silver and bronze.

"How much is the gold one worth?"

"Approximately 50 pounds."

That solves it. After taking a baggy pocketful of gold I should be ok. As I walk out of the vault the creature hands me a golden key.

"Your key Mr Potter. Next time present it to the teller."

Finally I exit Gringotts and things are looking up, time to buy a proper attire. Couple steps from the bank I already spot a perfect place; "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions". Wanting nothing else but a fitting clothes I slide into the shop, but before I even open my mouth.

"Hogwarts dear?"

I nod. Witch leads me to the back of the shop and starts measuring. There is some blond kid next to me and I just hope he won't start talking. What will I talk about? Let me read up a little, please.

"Hogwarts?" – ask the boy.

"Yes." – I try to squeeze as much annoyance and overall unfriendliness as I can in the simplest of words.

"You play Quidditch?"

Whatever.

"Sure I do." – I almost boast.

"Me to, I play seeker, what about you?"

"I always attack, that's more my style." – bullshit overload.

"Chaser eh? You have a broom?"

Brooms, of course, we are wizards after all.

"Not allowed." – I state hoping the list in the letter prohibits them for a reason.

"Well yes, but I will still try to get one."

Whatever you say.

"What house will you be in?" – boy continues.

Let it end.

"No clue." – I answer.

"Nobody really knows till we get there, but I am sure I will be in Slytherin just like my whole family."

"Cool." – I stroke his ego.

"Yes, it's the best house. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I would just leave."

Please do.

"Yes."

"You done, dear." – says Witch and leads me back to the entrance handing me a pile of robes required for Hogwarts.

After slipping into "a plain work robe", which is a simple robe just like any other around here but without epilepsy inducing colours, I proceed to look for information. Remembering bookstores at the beginning of the alley I head right there. "Flourish and Blotts" is a maze so first things first.

"Can I have the first year set of books for Hogwarts?" – I ask at the counter.

"Here you go. One galleon, seven sickles. "

Now that's done it's time to find the history section and other basic stuff, this might take a while. And it did. Two hours later and I am enlightened. Thanks whatever gods there are I always keep my hair neat and tidy and cover that never healing scar. I don't even want to imagine strolling here with my hair styled back. To think I am Christ almighty to those people. My plans of staying on the side-lines are in ruins.

Let's not think about it for now. First, finish shopping.

Fifteen minutes later; cauldron, telescope, vials, scales acquired. All that's left is the rod of power. Entering "Ollivanders" I see no one. Great, is there any other wand shop? I turn around and…

"Good afternoon Mr Potter."

What? Turning back I see an old man with pale shining eyes.

"I thought I will be seeing you soon." – he, presumably Ollivander, continues.

"Hello. Can I buy a wand?" – I say awkwardly.

"Wand arm?"

I lift my right hand and suddenly there is a tape spinning all around it measuring who knows what. Meanwhile Ollivander is grabbing random, I think, packages from the shelves and putting them on the table.

"Enough." – he commanded and tape just fell.

"Try this one; dragon heartstring, oak, 12 inches, very powerful. Just give it a wave."

I felt weird warmth coming from the wand, similar to what happens when I used my magic before, but much more clearly. I wave it at the wall, red light covers all of it and rips wooden decorations to pieces. Ollivander snatches the wand before I pull myself together. What. The. Fuck?

"Maybe this will work; unicorn, 10 inches, more about precision than power."

Again, this warmth. Stream of fire rushes out of the wand. I just drop it. This is out of control.

"Not dragon nor unicorn, let's try phoenix then. Hmm, maybe?"

Ollivander disappears for about 5 minutes and comes back with a very dusty box.

"Try this; holly, phoenix feather, 11 inches."

This time the warmth stays at the tip of the wand and a silver sparks rush out. Good, something controllable.

"I will take this one." – I say.

"Of course you will. The wand chooses the wizard. Still, it's curious that this wand is suited for you."

"Really, why?"

I don't actually care.

"Phoenix which gave feather for the making of this wand gave another feather, only one. It's curious that you are chosen by this wand when its brother gave you that scar." – he says while pointing at my forehead.

Spooky. I am out. I head back to the Leaky Cauldron to get a room for the night. Got to sleep all this over, it was a long day.