Chapter no 1

Aroob Arham, or Arooba aapa as the children called her, leaned back on the sofa with a sigh. Her eyes were fixed on the small child playing on the ground in front of the TV. He was playing with his cars again, the new ones that she'd bought him after he saw a kid playing with them.

She rubbed her fingers at her temples to hopefully provide some relief. Dealing with her nephews' antics always ended up giving her a headache but it was nothing a cup of tea couldn't fix. Tea, sounded wonderful but she needed to deal with this latest problem first.

The said four year old child grinned up at her as if he had heard her thinking about him. She absently wondered if he had but then chased away the thought. She nodded approvingly at the cars he had stacked on top of each other instead and had to hold back a smile when the tower toppled making him pout. It didn't last long though, he was back at it again in the next minute.

The sunlight streaming through the window fell upon his hair making their blue color stand out even more. Aroob shook her head gathering her own hair in her hands and with practiced ease twisting them into a braid. She tied off the braid with a band she had on her wrist with her mind off to a million places at once.

She needed to come up with an excuse. But what could she say? She didn't want to lie. She really didn't. It'll make her feel guilty in her prayers in days to come.

"Harry, " She slowly began," How are you feeling, Meri Jaan?"

"Fine, aapa, fine."

"You're not feeling sick?"

The child shook his head absently and got up to go to the other room, maybe he lost interest in the cars already. Aroob took a deep breath, maybe she should feel guilty over hoping that Harry was feeling under the weather but it was for his own good. Harry couldn't go to school, not yet. Not until the blue color of his hair vanished.

By now she knew from experience that it'll take almost 12 hours of undisturbed sleep for his 'gift' to calm down and since it acted out right before her morning prayer, there was no chance of it fading in the next hour. It was 6:00 already and his bus would come around at about 7:00. An hour to think then.

She picked up the landline and dialed a number impulsively, it took almost no time for her mother to pick up the phone. It was almost like she's sitting beside the phone at all times, she thought with a smile.

"Asalam-o-Alaikum, Ammi Jaan." She started the call with the customary chat, asking about her health and the weather and whether or not the milkman came that day before turning the conversation to her reason for calling.

"Harry had an 'incident' again. Yes, today -No Ammi Ji, its nothing bad. His hair turned blue. Yes blue. I-...Is it possible for us to visit? I don't want him going to school." She let out a breath of relief at her mothers' excited acceptance.

"Did you hear from Bhai?" She held her breath, " He still won't attend my calls, its not right Ammi." She shook her head angrily at her mothers' reply, " I don't care, you don't break relations over small problems. So what if- No Ammi, I-Okay fine I'll just bring him over. Khuda Hafiz. "

And with that, she put down the receiver. At least now she had a truthful excuse, She and her nephew ( was he still her nephew?) were going to visit her mother so of course Harry couldn't go to school.

"Harry baeta, we are going to visit Nani Jaan okay?" She raised her voice a little so Harry could hear from the other room. Harry came running into the room, a small toy gun clutched in his hand, "But Phupo, School?"

"No school today."

Harry grinned with excitement and ran to her to give her a hug. Aroob smiled when he decided to lay next to her with his head on her lap instead of going back to play. He was still smiling, he could probably already taste the sweets his Nani Jaan had prepared for him.

Aroob Appa just stroked his hair wondering how long she could keep this up.

The day Harry James Potter, or Harris Arham received his letter was a day of great success and pain for his aunt turned mother. Success because despite her brother's words of hatred of how his adopted son had turned out to be a creature of Shaitan or a Jin, she had never stopped caring for the child and today her brother's words proved false. Her nephew, or her son depending on who you asked, was not cursed. Rather, he was a wizard. This proved what she had known all along.

Her son was just an innocent child that was gifted with abilities that proved to be both a blessing and a burden.

A burden because it was quite difficult to hide how he was different when things started rattling when he became angry but it certainly was a blessing when his 'gift' saved him when a fire broke out in his room.

Aroob had seen a lot of things in her long life, her hair didn't turn grey by sitting in sun you know but an owl carrying a letter with their address written on was certainly new. She read the letter first of course as any careful guardian would and it took almost a whole day before she showed it to Harry.

In that one day, she consulted her mother, became sad over the actions of her brother, went over what other choices she had and then finally when her heart was satisfied, if not anxious, at what she was doing she handed the letter over to Harry.

It made perfect sense to her. If Harry was a wizard who better to help take care of it then wizards? He certainly couldn't have a normal career because blowing up the glass of a building when he got angry at his boss or changing the hair color of an annoying colleague was less than ideal. It would surely have the government upon their head, and they'd take her son away from her to experiment. She'd heard of it happening to a boy in the news, he went missing and his parents said it was the government. She trusted them.

'Hogwarts' the letter said. She saw Harry mouthing the word over and over for the rest of the day. At night, she held his head close to her chest and whispered a prayer for him. She kissed his forehead and told him that he was her son no matter what, he had to be brave for her and that she loved him. Harry hugged her back and said, "I know, Ammi. I know. I'll be fine. You'll see. I'll be brave and smart and everything you want me to be because I love you."

But Aroob didn't see. Because the next day, she didn't wake up.

The 911 workers put a blanket over the teary child's shoulders and guided him away to be taken to his grandmother's house. But one thing that Harry managed to notice before he was taken away, was that his Phupo-his guardian-his mother died with a smile on her lips.

*Appa-Respectful title to address women.

*Meri Jaan-My beloved or My soul

*Phupo- Aunt (Father's sister)

*Asalam-o-Alaikum- Peace be upon you/ Greeting

*Ammi- Mother

*Bhai-Brother

*Nani-Grandmother

*Shaitan or Jin-Devil or Spirit

So, here we go people. I was so anxious over posting this. I had this sitting in my drafts for months but I just couldn't bring myself to post this. Mostly because of the backlash I am sure to get. But the thing is, this is fanfiction people. If people can write about Harry being raised by Mafia or killing everyone he gets mad at brutally why can't I write about him being born and raised in a Muslim household and the effect it has on his personality and interactions? If you're here to hate then please just leave. I am a Muslim though I don't claim to be a perfect one. I hope you will enjoy the story.