Took a LOOOOOOOOOONG time to get this chapter out, I literally have no excuse other than I had no inspiration for this fic. Also, SORRY NOT SORRY

P.S. trigger warning for a vaguely implied rape scene I'll put ******** These before and after it! It's also hella short!

Freak wakes up to the sound of Aunt banging on the door, snapping at him to hurry up.

At least he would have if he hadn't already been awake for two hours 46 minutes and 16 seconds.

17 seconds.

18.

19.

20.

"Freak! We don't put clothes on your back and a roof over your head for you to laze around all day!"

Freak doesn't mention the fact that Aunt hasn't unlocked the three locks on his cupboard. He sits there for what seems like hours (36 seconds) before Aunt opens the door and glares at him, hissing threats and spitting venom.

Comparing Aunt's demeaner to a snake, Freak mused, was entirely rude and unfair to the elegant creatures.

After allowing Aunt to smack his head, Freak proceeded to glide to the kitchen to begin cooking. Aunt's delayed opening of his cupboard left Freak with less time than usual to prepare breakfast. Luckily, it was Sunday, so Uncle and Dudley wouldn't wake up until 5 minutes till 12 and 30 minutes after, respectively.

Unluckily, it was Sunday, and so he had to prepare Sunday breakfast before they had to go to church, which was a whole different problem in itself.

Freak shook himself, stopping that line of thought before even an inkling of it could escape.

Standing on his tippy toes, Freak began.

If there's one thing Freak loves about the Dursley's, it's cooking. It's something he's in control of. He could put rat poisoning in Uncle's food, or laxatives in Aunt's, never mind what he could do with Dudley's! That power is in his tiny malnourished hands.

Smiling softly at the thought's, Freak picked out what he was going to cook.

Bacon and egg crumpet melts, two servings, which would take 20 minutes.

Peanut butter drizzle pancakes, four servings, which would take 45 minutes.

Posh breakfast muffins, six servings, 30 minutes.

Full English croissants, four servings, 35 minutes.

Roasted tomatoes and avocadoes on toast, 2 servings, 30 minutes.

Bacon hash browns, four servings, 40 minutes.

Doing the math in his head, Freak internally grinned when he realized he'd have time to spare after he was done cooking before Uncle and Dudley woke. All the dishes were relatively easy and fancy enough that Freak could pretend he was some famous chef about to serve his world-famous food to his rich clients.

He decided to start on the toast and muffins first, as those were for Aunt, who was awake watching some drama on the telly.

Freak got four plum tomatoes from the fridge, made sure they had some sourdough bread in the breadbox, grabbed an avocado and a lemon. He also swiped a handful of baby rocket leaves, just to be fancy.

30 minutes later and Freak carefully put the Roasted Tomatoes and Avocado Toast on a plate before setting it before Aunt. After a tense silence, Aunt hummed and began eating, a clear dismissal.

Relieved, Freak continued cooking, letting himself rely on muscle memory.

He made the muffins then put them in the carrier for Aunt to share with her bible study group. The Bacon and egg crumpet melts and Full English croissants were made for Uncle and put in the warmed toaster oven to keep fresh. Once that's all settled, Freak prepares Dudley's meal of Peanut butter drizzle pancakes and Bacon Hash browns.

Satisfied, Freak goes to ask Aunt if he can eat, when he remembers that on the first Sunday of every month, the kids of town get together to talk about the bible and what they could do to not sin (aka, not have parental guidance for two hours) and it was Dudley's turn to bring snacks for everyone.

Trying not to panic, Freak decides to make Croissant Cinnamon Buns, which he should be done with just as Uncle and Dudley wake.

On edge, Freak doesn't allow himself to work on only instinct. The buns need to be perfect because he wouldn't have enough time to make a new batch.

Freak finished the buns with moments to spare. Just as he was taking the buns out of the oven, he heard Uncle coming down the stairs. Hurried, Freak set the sweets down then grabbed Uncle's food from the toaster oven, carefully taking the food to wear Uncle sat.

After pouring Uncle's coffee, Freak took a single step back.

Automatically, Freak went into Attention. Uncle had sent him to a military camp last summer to get him out of the house and he was told to behave like he was still there. His feet were should length apart, his hands clasped in the middle of the back directly above the tailbone. His head was straight ahead, staring at a fixed point in front of him. He was completely still.

Freak stood like that while Uncle gorged himself until Dudley came down. That was when Aunt slapped him, telling him to get Dudley's food, then to get their Sunday clothes ironed and ready for them to change into.

Ignoring his snarling stomach, Freak gave one sharp nod, then about-faced before marching upstairs.

Aunt yelled up to him.

"And bathe too! Don't want you to disgrace us with your filthiness in the Lords house!"

Freak hated the Lord's house, or church, as most called it, for a lot of reasons.

One reason was because it was plain just stupid. A man in the sky? Who made the world? Who people worship and praise and dedicated their lives to? Yeah, no.

Another reason was because everyone believed he was the Devil. No, not the Devil, Devil's little brother ("Because who'd want to claim him"). Parents sneer at him and hide their kids behind their backs as he passes, teens mock and hurt him, elderly hiss at him, punishing him their sins.

The last reason was because he had to be Harry here. Freak hated being Harry. Being Harry meant that he had to have private lessons with the pastor to "bring him back to the side of God". An hour of the service, and an hour after is what Harry spent with Father Gabe ("You can call me Daddy when we're alone, Harry, God knows no one else wants you.") in the back room.

Freak knew what was happening wasn't okay in the slightest. He wasn't stupid. With no friends, all Freak had was books. He knew it wasn't his fault and he knew it shouldn't be happening. He knew an adult should help him.

(One-time Father Gabe didn't go in the back room with him, and his principle walked in. Harry was on his back, flat on the ground. Harry knew what he looked like, Father Gabe liked "purifying him" in front of mirrors and other reflective surfaces, saying that Harry should watch the sin leaving him. All Harry saw was himself, face void of any emotion and eyes dull. He looks dead. He wishes he was sometimes. The next day, when Potter went to school, he was called to the principal's office to be told that he was allowed to sit on a pillow instead of the hard-wooden chairs. The principle says so every Monday. He doesn't.)

Should.

Maybe he does think he's helping, Freak muses. The human mind is absolutely fascinating. One thing Freak loves to do is pick people part little by little, learning how they tic and how to stop them from doing so.

He still says no the next day nonetheless.

Because Freak liked the hopelessness and desperation in his eyes as he offered again and again. His principle wanted to be a good person. But would a good person find out a kid is being raped and not do anything? The answer to that is no. And the principle knows that as well, so he tries to convince himself otherwise. Give Potter something to ease his bum after being violently raped and that makes you a good person. Heh, no, sweetie.

This is the kind of power Freak craves. Not physical or politically. But the power to see a person weakness, to know how to break them. And the power of having the choice whether or not to do so. His principle is breaking, little by little with every no. Freak is making him realize he is not a good person, and that's destroying him.

Freak knows there's something wrong with him, the words sociopath often echoes in his brain. But no, that's not what he is. He's something better. Sociopath's cannot not understand emotions. A sociopath makes rash decisions. A sociopath is an imperfect miscalculation.

Freak.

Freak however.

Freak knows and understands emotions. He can take the blackness of one's soul and make it darker. He enjoys using one's emotions to cause pain and to benefit himself.

Freak can afford to make rash decisions. He's always three steps ahead with at least 2 alternate plans of something goes wrong.

Freak is a perfect miscalculation.

You may have read this chapter and gone "What the fuck? What about B E N"
Well, dear readers, I'm wondering the exact same fucking thing. The reason it took me so long to get his chapter out was because I had no idea what to write after all that, so, I taking it back now Y'ALL

Harry doesn't quite have Multiple Personality Disorder, it's more like his way of coping with what's happening to him. But it may become that later on.

Harry: MY MAGIC BRINGS VOLREMORT TO THE YARD AND I'M LIKE, IT'S HURTING MY SCAR