Summary:
Harry Potter wasn't abused physically. However, there are worse ways a child can be scarred. Deprived of light and human touch for the first five years of his life could have made him into a recluse or a psychopath. Or both. Fortunately, thanks to a stroke of luck, he managed to pull through relatively unharmed. Of course if knowing no feeling of love or affection could be counted as being unharmed. [Grey/Hadrian] [Dumbledore/HandpickedWeasleys/Hermione Bashing] [Mature content]
Trigger warnings:
This story WILL feature heavily suggestive themes, though nothing explicit - I can't really write "lemons" anyway, it always turns out pathetic, so it's probably for the best. They will start appearing around the fourth year, but, since we will mostly skip through the first three years (like, one chapter - one year), you can expect them pretty soon. Don't worry though, they will only be there to develop characters and atmosphere, the main plot is most certainly not going to revolve around relationships and sex.
There will be important canon character(s?) death, you might also expect some others meeting their fate as well as graphic violence. Rating M isn't for nothing, so be warned.
A/N:
While I have some experience in writing stories I can freely admit, that this one is the first I'll be writing in English. It's not my first language, and though I have no problems speaking and reading it, I have never before undertaken something quite so big as this is shaping up to be. So... Please bear with me if you see anything that shouldn't be there or can't see something that should :) That said I will do my very best to avoid errors and misspellings.
I'm going to be updating this story probably about once every week or two; the way I see it, it's probably going to be over a 100k words, but it's all rather fluid at this moment, so it might also end up with ~60k or so. Either way, this is going to be the first part of a trillogy.
Darkness. Complete, encompassing darkness was all the little boy knew. Ever since he could remember, he didn't see much light. And every time he did see it, it was somehow connected with pain or discomfort. Normally children don't remember their first words or steps. This child, however, was far from normal. It remembered with perfect clarity the first time he managed to speak. It also remembered, that because it managed this feat before another child, it was beaten and immediately shut in it's crib, conveniently placed somewhere dark and out of everybody's way. One would think, that such treatment would lead the child to withdrawal from the world. That it would cause said child to become unstable, shy, closed off and perhaps even a bit psychotic. One thinking so wouldn't be completely incorrect, for it has been this child's way of dealing with trauma for quite a few early years of it's life. But then, school happened.
===#^#===
The education in all of the United Kingdom is quite straightforward, at least when it comes to the so called Compulsory Education Age. The law states, that it is compulsory for the kids between the ages of 5 and 16 to receive education. It is not, however, necessary for it to be done in any formalized way. In fact, quite a lot of parents decide that they will do a better job of it than the structuralised education system, and decide to do some homeschooling. And so it was this dilemma, that this child's guardians found themselves with. It was never a question, whether their own flesh and blood would go to school. It was always supposed to be the best private school available, Smeltings Academy, with excellent teachers, great library, a couple of football, basketball and tennis fields and even a swimming pool. This child, however, was not their own flesh and blood. They didn't want it; they detested it. When they first found it on their doorstep, their first instinct, which they immediately acted on, was to call for the police and get rid of it. They were quickly forced into submission though - no sooner than they took the phone, a tall, weirdly dressed woman appeared and explained to them, that they had no choice but to accept and take the responsibility for the child... Or else.
And so they did. Being forced though did nothing to appeal to their compassion. They did the bare minimum, making sure only that the child is physically somewhat healthy and fed. They did not, however, allow it to play with other children, especially with their own. They even went so far as to shut this child in a cupboard under the stairs for a better part of it's infancy. This, however, stopped being a viable option with this child's turning five, and, consequently, becoming eligible to receive education. It's guardians were torn. They could either send it to a public school or claim to be homeschooling it. Both approaches had it's pros and cons. Sending it to a public school would lessen their burden and get them rid of it for at least part of a day. However, especially at the beginning, it's behavior could raise some concerns. It would probably be socially awkward; knowing only the dark cupboard it could also say something it wasn't supposed to, thus bringing unwanted scrutiny of family services to their household, which was to be avoided at all cost. On the other hand, homeschooling would change virtually nothing. It would still occupy the cupboard and be a non-person. This, while not a bad thing, could lead to other set of problems. Namely, they wouldn't really teach it anything. They had no qualifications nor desire to do so. This was fine for the most part of the year, they knew however, that homeschooled children were required to attend end-year exam to evaluate their progress, lack of which could also lead to unwanted attention.
Taking all this into consideration, the child's guardians decided to send him to a public school come September. They acquired necessary school utensils and uniform, all perfectly new and well fitting. For even if they were not caring about the child they knew, that should they neglect it in any obvious way, it would come hunting them soon enough.
Few short months later, on the eve of the first of September, they shooed their own to it's bedroom. They opened the cupboard's door and motioned the child to follow them. It did. They told it to sit down on a couch. It did.
"Boy," the man started. "Tomorrow you are to start attending Public First. We expect you to behave yourself and not bring any unwanted attention to yourself, understood?" He said strongly. Seeing the lack of understanding in the child's eyes, he elaborated. "Public First is a local school. You will be going there every day, from monday to friday, and learn all you can. You will bring good grades, but not overly so. You will be polite, you will not speak out of turn. You will not speak of your home life unless asked for by a teacher. If that happens, you will tell them that you are living with your foster family, that you have your own room and everything you need. You will not mention the cupboard, you will not bring anybody home, you will always come back here immediately after lessons' end. Do you understand?"
The child looked at him, and shyly nodded. He continued, "If a teacher or an adult asks you, you live with uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia and brother Dudley. You will try to avoid other children, they are not trustworthy enough. You will control your behavior and not engage in any shenenigans. From today," he looked at the child piercingly, "you are moving to Dudley's old bedroom. But remember, that you will be back in a cupboard should you break the rules, boy."
The child nodded eagerly. It would have a new, bigger room! He was overjoyed. It would be amazing, he knew. Dudley's old bedroom was huge, at least million square feet! What would he do with all this space? Oh well, he was sure he could think of something. His head swirling with ideas, he almost missed his uncle's last remark.
"Oh, and boy? Your name, the one that you will react to, is Hadrian Potter."
===#^#===
"Hello children, my name is Evelynn Clark, and I'm your teacher. We will be learning many wondrous things together for the next few years," she said enthusiastically. She was a young woman, looking at most 30 years old, though probably much younger. She was of average height, while at the same time being rather slim and well endowed. Were she teaching teenagers, she would have probably been many boys' wet dream. She was, however, teaching prepubescent children, and so had no troubles keeping them concentrated on what she was saying, rather than what she was looking like. She liked to start each new class with an introduction lesson, for she thought it to be a good beginning of a year, as well as helping children to be more open to her and each other. That's why, after a customary introduction, she asked each and every child to say few words about itself.
"Hadrian Potter," she called next, looking around the classroom, after about half of the class has already spoken. Evelynn was almost ready to call again, but then she noticed scrawny black-haired boy reluctantly standing up. She smiled at him. "We're ready whenever you are," she said encouragingly.
"Good morning," the boy started shyly. "My name is Hadrian Potter. I live in Surrey with my uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley," he said and looked expectantly at miss Clark.
"Great," she smiled. "Do you already have any friends here?" She would always ask a few questions to help the children open up slightly more. Hadrian shook his head.
"No, miss Clark, I have no friends," he said, almost sadly. "But I hope that I can make friends soon!" he said eagerly. Evelynn smiled at him. He wasn't the first kid to express such hope. In each new class there always were those, that for one reason or the other were without friends. She knew however, that fortunately, he would really have to try to distance himself from all of the kids, which was unlikely - and that, sooner or later, he would find himself in his own circle of friends.
"Hadrian," she then inquired, "do you have any hobbies?"
"I..." Hadrian stumbled for words, slightly panicky. He didn't know what to say. Should he reveal that he had no real hobbies? Or should he make something up? He didn't want risk displeasing his uncle for fear of being thrown back to his cupboard. Finally he decided. "I like reading books."
Which was only a partial lie. He never had his own books, but the few times his aunt taught him how to read and write (to avoid him embarrassing himself and bringing attention to her) he enjoyed reading amazing tales and stories that were in the books she showed him. He was relieved to see, that miss Clark easily accepted his answer and promptly moved on to another pupil. Hadrian decided, that being caught like this again was not an option. He would have to research all that was expected of him, like having hobbies, favorite places, foods and TV shows. He could not slip again.
===#^#===
"Hello, I'm Donald," said brown haired tall boy, extending his hand. Hadrian shook it, slightly bewildered that anyone would like to talk to him, but taking it in stride.
"Hi Donald, I'm Hadrian."
"So... What's up Hadrian? Do you like your first day at school?" Donald asked. And just like that, unknowingly, Hadrian broke one of his uncle's rules for the first, and certainly not the last, time.
===#^#===
"Aunt Petunia?" he asked, seeing her to be in a relatively good mood. "I know I should come back home after classes, but could I spend some time in a library?" He asked, hopeful.
"Library?" Petunia sniffed. "Why would you want to spend time in a library?"
"Ah, it's just that I don't understand often what kids are talking about, and I know the library has some magazines that I could read there."
She thought about it. Nothing really harmful could come out of it, it was only a library after all. And if he was less socially awkward, all the better, less chance of someone coming snooping around. And if the kid would be out of home for longer, without the danger of him doing some mischief, all the better. She resolutely nodded her head and said, "You can, but no more than two hours every other day." She stipulated.
===#^#===
"Very good Hadrian, your story is amazing!" Miss Clark exclaimed after reading the assigned writing he had handed her at the beginning of their lesson. It was very good indeed, with well thought-out plot, passable dialogues and clear structure. Certainly above his year's level, probably approaching the level of fifth-grader or so. Hadrian only slightly inclined his head. He knew he did well, he worked hard on this assignment, but was pleased nonetheless to have it confirmed, especially publicly like this. It would cement his peers opinion about him as a talented, yet friendly and approachable. He made it a point to always help others if he could, collecting favours for a later date. He made sure, however, to always use them sooner or later, even for something inconsequential; he knew, that should he be too lenient and give his help for free, he would quickly be taken advantage of. The boy was also making sure that he didn't pass up as a know-it-all; he knew it would be his undoing, as no one liked a know-it-all, himself included.
===#^#===
There, thought Hadrian, once his new heavy curtains were hanged over his room's window. It was the first thing that he bought having earned his first money. He was working hard for them, helping his neighbours with all the menial jobs they could have thought of. And it was well worth it - now he could make the room as dark as he wanted it. He could no longer live in a cupboard, but darkness was still part of him.
===#^#===
"Uncle?" Hadrian approached Vernon cautiously. Seeing that he had his uncle's attention, he started speaking. "I know you said that I'm to be back home as soon as classes ends, but all the boys from my class have signed for a martial arts class in the afternoon, and you also said that I shouldn't draw attention to myself, and as I would be the only one not attending I thought..." He rambled. Vernon looked at him and considered it.
Did he want his nephew learning physical combat? Certainly not. On the other hand, he was right, if he was the only one not allowed to attend, it would raise questions. And let's be honest, what could they teach to a bunch of six-year-olds?
"Very well," he allowed. "You can join this class if that's what you wish. But be careful, the last thing I want is to have to bring you to the hospital if you get harmed."
Hadrian silently snorted. Figures, it would bring too much attention to his uncle's perfect world. He didn't voice it though, he knew better. Instead he silently thanked Vernon and left.
===#^#===
"Today we have a special guest," Miss Clark said. "Please say hello to Madam Camilla Afnett, who is going to show you today, how to effectively study. Please pay attention, what she will be saying can be very helpful."
Miss Afnett was about the same age as Miss Clark, but where Evelynn was blond with short curly hair, miss Afnett's were silkily black, and where Evelynn had a perfect figure, Camilla was a little plump. The way she spoke, however, showed that she had quite a lot of experience, as she had no problem whatsoever capturing children interest.
"I know, that no words will be enough to convince you to spend your free time learning new, difficult things that you don't even know work," she started. "That's why I'd like to start with small demonstration. In a short while I will leave this classroom for five minutes. In this time I want you to make a list of thirty random words, nouns preferably, which you will then show me. Begin!" She exclaimed, and promptly left the room.
Immediately ideas started flowing. Whenever kids agreed upon a word, miss Clark would write it down on a board. Some were easy, like a "dog", others less common, like "asparagus". Finally, with only a minute to spare, they were done. Miss Clark then invited Camilla back. She strode inside, purposefully not looking at the blackboard.
"So you are done, right? Good. Do you agree, that there is no way I could have known these words beforehand?" Seeing agreement throughout the class, she continued. "In that case, I will tell you what I'm going to do now. I will turn to the blackboard and look at the words you just invented for exactly one minute. Then I will turn my back on them, and, facing you, will recite them - in the order. How does it sound?" She asked, eliciting gasps.
"Impossible!" Someone shouted, to which Camilla only smiled.
And indeed, just a minute later she was correctly reciting the whole list in a correct order. Seeing awed faces she smiled; it never got old. "What I just did was to use a little trick called 'words association'. You see, it's rather difficult to remember just the words; our brains are not that good at it. On the other hand, our brains are very good at remembering images. So to remember something it's always good to connect it, or associate, with an image. What you will probably particularly like is, that the weirder the image, the better."
She had complete attention and focus, nobody even dared to sniff. "All this is fine and well, but there is one more step you need to make to teach yourselves twenty of thirty or even more words in a short time: you need to..." Camilla paused dramatically, to which miss Clark sighed silently.
"Make a story!" Camilla finished. "Once you have a list of words, you need to assign each word an image, a short animated scene, even. You have to do it in such a way, to have them connect to a next one. So, in your example, you started with words 'dog', 'tuxedo', 'umbrella', 'skateboard', and 'crocodile', to which I imagined a dog dressed in English lord's tuxedo, with an umbrella in his paw, trying valiantly to ride a skateboard on a giant crocodile's back," she said to a laughing at this image class. "Then you had me remember 'engine', 'fumes' and an 'asparagus', and my story went like this: A dog dressed in English lord's tuxedo with an umbrella in his paw, trying valiantly to ride a skateboard on a giant crocodile's back was having a problem, because the engine of his skateboard started to release a lot of fumes, which scared the frog trying to cook an asparagus nearby." She explained to, once again, awed class. Seeing this, she asked a random girl if she could, without looking at the board, recall first eight words. To the kid's own astonishment, she did so, after only a second of hesitation.
"Do you see? It's a very effective technique, and very easy to learn. Of course to be able to remember few dozen of words after only a minute takes practice, but if that's something that you really want, you will have it mastered in a few days time." She assured them. "But what about remembering more complex ideas, ones that cannot be made into a funny story without garbling the meaning? Well, let me tell you a little about... Mind palace."
===#^#===
Hadrian was running. As a part of his PE class curriculum, each pupil was required to choose one sport they wanted to focus on each semester. When he informed his uncle about this, he was immediately told to choose something that didn't require buying any expensive hardware or clothes. With such conditions in place, he only had a choice between running, swimming and some team sports like soccer and basketball, which he didn't really want to play. And so he decided that he would start with running, as it was supposed - he read once - to develop his stamina best, and then he would change to swimming, which would supposedly help develop his body.
He knew he was fast. Out of all the kids running laps, his time was usually in top five. He came a long way; at first he had trouble finishing even one full lap. Thankfully, their coach was anything if not supportive. Thanks to this, Hadrian could now hope for a top spot in a few weeks time if he didn't slouch - which he had no plan to.
===#^#===
"Should we tell him?" Fretted Petunia. "It's not like he won't know sooner or later that something is going on. And with this McGoldy witch, Vernon, they will surely send someone for him, and we won't be able to stop them!" she said, panic raising.
It was two days before Hadrian's eighth birthday, the day when - they were told all those years ago - the block on his magical core would come undone. When this happened, anything could happen, from pretty much nothing to a random yellow elephants flying in circles over him. It was also this day, that would mark the countdown to his first awakening. From the moment he turned eight he would occasionally, especially when under huge stress, display some unfocused, accidental magic. Dursleys knew about this, but had no idea what should they do - so they waited. When he was younger, they could justify it because of his age, but now... Now they had problem.
"We shouldn't have to even think of such a problem," declared Vernon. "But what can we do? We have to tell him." He declared, his shoulders slumped.
===#^#===
"Wizard, huh?" Hadrian mused. He has just had the most interesting conversation with the Dursleys, during which they informed him of his heritage. He believed them instantly - they simply were not the kind of people to be joking around. If they, of all people said that magic was real, that was it, magic was real. Of course, despite it being very curious thing, it wasn't all that useful to him right now. He had more pressing concerns - as soon as aunt Petunia finished explaining about magical stuff, his uncle informed him that from the day after his birthday he would be starting doing chores to 'earn his keep'. That meant that he had only three full days more to forward his personal project without being bothered by the Dursleys. He sighed, sitting down and morphing into meditative position. His mind palace was almost ready, now he just needed to add some protective measures and he would consider it finished.
===#^#===
"I have no idea how I can repay you," said Donald. He was very grateful, because if not for Hadrian's help, he would be in serious troubles with his parents for stealing their money to go to the cinema. Fortunately, Hadrian hearing about his predicament, has been able to lend him the same amount, and his parents never even suspected anything.
"Simply," Hadrian answered. "Just give me back my money this time. I still remember the last time, you know."
"I will, I promise" the boy said solemnly, but Hadrian could tell, that he wasn't sincere, which made him angry. Donald started saying something else, but Hadrian didn't hear him. At the same time he felt a subtle shift in his magic, the one that he always felt when danger approached. He quickly and discreetly looked around and saw, that a huge lorry was running towards them. It must have been left at the top of a hillock without brakes engaged, because it was coming completely silently. He thought quickly, and then stopped without letting Donald know.
I guess he won't keep that promise either, he thought, turning his face suitably shocked, which was probably expected of him now.
===#^#===
"Donald was a good friend," he started his speech, his voice pained, eyes wet. "It was only a stroke of luck, that today I'm here, while he is there. I often ask myself, if I should have been more vigilant. Would Donald still be alive? What would we be doing? Perhaps we could be going to the cinema with other friends, or play chess... I... I..." He stopped, seemingly overwhelmed with emotions. I hope I don't overdo it, he thought. "While I will always remember Donald, I know that he wouldn't want us to grieve too much. He would want us to move on and live a full life. That's how he was. Sleep well, my friend." He stood down and rejoined the crowd, accepting words of sympathy from well-wishers.
===#^#===
"Aunt Petunia?"
"What do you want?"
"I was wondering, if you know about any magical library where you could take me? I'd like to read a little about customs of wizarding world to make sure I won't be standing out."
"..."
"..."
"I know of a book store in London that supposedly has a hidden section with books about magic, or so Lily told me. We can go tomorrow, and if prices won't be overly high, I will buy you some."
===#^#===
"Hadrian!" Petunia shouted. "Come here boy, there is a letter for you!"
He quickly descended down the stairs. He was waiting anxiously, and it's finally arrived - his Hogwarts acceptance letter. Hadrian took it from his aunt, immediately shredding the envelope, and reading the content.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
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 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hadrian felt like shouting with glee. He was accepted, he was going to leave this place, he was going to Hogwarts to study magic! Yes, he knew it was going to happen, but this, physical proof that all he heard and read till now was real, this finally drove it home. He quickly scanned second page.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic
by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory
by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration
by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions
by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
Yours sincerely,
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus
Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions
===#^#===
"Aunt Petunia?"
"You have to simply walk through the wall between platform nine and ten. That's what she always did."
"Ah..."
"You can go or you can stay and come back home with me. It's your choice."
"Goodbye aunt Petunia."