I don't own Harry Potter. I just own this story, so any mistakes are mine alone.

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Safe-cracker.

Escape Artist.

There is no such thing as magic, the golden rule of having a quiet life at the Dursleys. He must have heard his aunt and uncle say it about a thousand times while he had lived with the Dursleys. Even the merest mention of the word magic would be enough to get him beaten by his uncle, and his aunt would shriek at him.

And yet, as Harry sat grinning at the Cupboard door, watching as with a flick and a gesture of his hand, the lock on the door slid back and the door opened, he couldn't think of anything else which had unlocked the door to his cupboard.

Cautiously Harry walked out of the tiny cupboard, stretching his arms and his legs as he quietly walked out into the hall and then into the living room, mentally cursing the Dursleys for turning off all the lights, though he knew if he so much as turned one on and one of them came downstairs he may as well not live anymore, he resisted the urge to turn a light on so he could see clearly. In any case, the only light on was coming from the inside of the cupboard itself, so he wasn't that worried.

He pulled back the curtains so he could see out over the street. The night was beautiful with the moonlight clearly shining over the rooftop tiles, casting a rough appearance over them. He felt the light was ruined slightly by the streetlights glowing brightly out there, which cast a more harsher light compared to the soft lighting of the moon.

But the street looked still, quiet. The night was casting truly incredible shadows all over parts of the front gardens of every one of the Dursley's neighbours; in the daylight, the gardens were clear and everything was neat and tidy, and although Harry found Privet Drive to be mundane and dreadfully boring since no-one seemed to give any thought at all to the idea that was individuality and no-one seemed to get the gist you didn't need to be like everyone else in order to have a good life, the same could not be said about the view at night. In the darkness of the night, the shadows seemed to stretch forever, making the front lawns look more interesting than the boring flat plains of grass that existed in the morning, each blade straight and tall and this much high.

Harry turned and looked around the darkened living room, letting in some of the moonlight. The room looked so different without the Dursleys anywhere near it, and the eight-year-old boy couldn't help but admire it.

For a long time he had known something weird was happening around him; those weird events at school, here… Always the Dursleys had screamed at him, called him 'freak' and they either beat him black and blue, heaping verbal and mental abuse down on him and starving him. Sometimes it was all of that.

And yet…whatever these weird events were around him, they never stopped. No matter how many times the Dursleys beat him, screamed abuse at him, and the neighbours turned a blind eye while the teachers were, strangely, oblivious until that day he had begun to accept the fact they didn't care about him despite being supposed to, the events still happened.

One day, he had been reading a book in the school library. It was a Roald Dahl book entitled Matilda, and for the first time ever he had found a book about someone who lived much like he did; an outcast in an unpleasant family, different in every respect, scorned and hated by everyone in the family.

(It had been tempting for him to play those punishing pranks on his family, but he had decided it wasn't a good idea, but some of those pranks Matilda had played on her father had been well deserved, and it had made Harry laugh a little bit, it was only a pity Mr Wormwood hadn't learnt anything from the experiences.)

The school was only slightly similar, only in the titular character's case, only one teacher was unpleasant, though Harry was uncertain if that was the right word to describe Miss Trunchball.

But the striking similarity with him and Matilda were there was a strange power they both shared. Like him, Matilda had no idea what it was, only that it existed.

She had learnt how to master the power she had, and he had sought to do the same thing. The only trouble was he had no idea how to do it, and he had tried. Harry smiled as he remembered those little experiments he had undertaken in the Cupboard under the Stairs after the Dursleys had gone to bed.

None of them had worked, but for Harry, that wasn't a problem.

It had given him the chance to see what he could do at that point, and it had convinced him to watch and wait and see how he was feeling when the next weird event came. He had gotten the idea it was something to do with emotion when he had cast his mind back to see how he had felt during those times, but even with that knowledge he had opted to wait to see if his theory was correct.

In any case, as he had thought to himself at the time, he wouldn't have long to wait.

And he didn't, Dudley once more played that stupid game of his. Harry Hunting was starting to get old, but truthfully Harry enjoyed being able to outthink his moron of a cousin and his equally stupid friends. The only problem was there were times where his luck just ran out, and he got beaten up simply because he hadn't been quick enough to getaway.

In this case, Harry had been wondering whether or not he should let himself be caught, anything to let him find out how this power worked. But as he had run, terrified from the gang, something amazing happened. He had been running down one of the side streets, frightened and scared of being caught, and then suddenly he had been on the rooftop of one of the buildings. It brought back memories of how he had found himself on the top of the school roof. Only this time, instead of drawing attention to himself, he had laid down on the top of the roof and made himself as flat as he could possibly be, and he had waited until the gang was gone.

Harry had laid on the top of the flat roof for about an hour, and then he had the new and very real problem of finding a way down. There had been no windows he could clamber through, but there was a drain pipe. Fortunately, it had been a metal one and looked strong enough certainly to take his weight. It had been easy to slide down, and from what he had seen from the rooftop there was a simple back gate that looked easy enough to get through.

Once he was down, he immediately got out.

But, as he looked back, he remembered how happy he had been on the rooftop. Yeah, being able to run away from his cousin and the gang was always a cause for celebration, but while he had been lying there, he had realised he had been frightened. Fear was the key, but while he had processed that fact and reminded himself it wasn't the first time he had been afraid and something had happened. But at the same time, he realised fear was only one of the feelings he had always felt during those moments. He remembered how furious he had been when the teacher had mocked him during the class where Harry had turned their wig blue.

Anger and fear, both seemed to be the triggers for the strange events.

When he had gone back to the Cupboard, he had once more started the experiments. He didn't need to look too far to find the type of memories he would need to make the power work either. He had about eight years worth of terrible memories to use to fuel his experiments, and he had chosen the one where Dudley had punched him in the face, only for him to be blasted off as if a gust of wind from a hurricane had smashed him away. It had resulted in one of the worst beatings he had ever endured, and he remembered his terror as he wondered if he would be killed.

Harry had started using the experiments to move objects with his mind, using the Matilda novel for a base. Once he had tapped into the memory, he remembered wishing the toy figure he was using would move to the left…. it moved alright, it had shot into the wall! Harry remembered how surprised and amazed he had been when he had seen the result of the experiment.

He had assumed the toy would only move a few millimetres, not rocket that fast into the wall. Surprise and amazement had disappeared quickly when he realised the noise might have disturbed the Dursleys. But his relatives had been laughing their heads off at some stupid TV show they had been watching, so he was safe.

But once the feeling of danger had passed, he had been happy. The experiment had been a success.

Once he had carried out that experiment, he had conducted others, and as he had gone along, he had continued to master his abilities. Everything he had done since he had discovered the key to unlocking his strange power had been controlled, and he had usually always conducted the experiments here, in the house, in the cupboard under the stairs which was ironically the only place he could actually do something without the Dursleys scrutinising him.

He found he could, if he concentrated, create a ball of light in the palm of his hand - only for this night there was more than enough light for him to see with even if he knew it would be helpful - and he could summon things into his hands. All he needed to do was to just hold out his hand, mentally command the thing he wanted, and it came to him. At first, it hadn't been easy since he had been reliant on using the memories of his time at Number 4 to fuel them.

However, he had learnt the more he used the power, the easier it came.

Harry had been experimenting with the power again in the cupboard. He had been experimenting with the locking bolt on the cupboard door a few times to see if it would be just as effective, and it was. While he had been practicing with the bolt, he had also tried to see if he cast two spells at the same time (he had no other name for it, and besides it felt good, being able to spite his relatives and them not even being aware of it), and he found that he could, although he had never done it before, and so he had felt drained as a result. He had turned the ordinary electric light back on when he had felt more drained, but he decided to continue experimenting with multiple spells at the same time, so he could get used to using them at once and hopefully not get tired.

Shaking off his memories, Harry walked into the kitchen, thankful there was enough moonlight for him to see around the room clearly, and he walked to the fridge and opened it. He was instantly chilled to the bone by the cold coming from the inside of the fridge, but his mouth practically watered at the shelves stocked with food. Harry knew he would need to be careful if the Dursleys noticed too much of the food was missing they would suspect him of being the thief even if he hadn't touched anything.

Hesitantly, Harry reached out and took some of the food out of the fridge, and he took it back to the cupboard after closing the fridge door. He closed the cupboard and he flicked his hand to re-lock the door.

Harry was just about to tuck into his stolen food when his blood chilled and he pricked his ears. He had just heard something on the second floor. Immediately, he hid the food, thankful he had not taken anything that stank or melted during his little heist. Suddenly he heard the sound of someone heavy coming down the stairs, and he heard someone breathing loudly. Harry kept very still, and he lay down on the pillow, hoping Uncle Vernon was just coming down for a glass of water or something like that, and he had no reason to open the cupboard door.

But if he did… Harry closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. He heard footsteps on one of the stairs directly over his head as his uncles bulk lumbered down them. His uncle reached the ground floor and walked through the hallway into the kitchen while Harry lay on the small cot and prayed his uncle didn't suddenly throw open the door.

He heard the sound of rushing water and then his uncle's loud swallowing, which sounded like a river of water going down a drain. After hearing his uncle pour in freshwater a few times before he went back upstairs to bed, Harry let out a deep but silent sigh of relief under his breath before he yawned tiredly.

It was late, and he was very tired. But at the same time, Harry couldn't help but still think.

He had done it, he had managed to unlock the cupboard door. It had been a logical step in his experiments, and yet at the same time, he had heard his uncle coming down the stairs, frightening him to death. It made him realise two things. Firstly he would need to find a way of using this power to protect him, although he had no idea how he was going to find ways of making his powers do that. Harry shrugged to himself. He would think about that later, in the meantime, he had to look at what he had also realised.

He had a way to escape.

Would anyone be amazed that any abused child would want nothing more than to find a way to escape? As the realisation spread through his mind, Harry thought about the possibility.

What if I can escape? It should be so simple; just use the power to unlock the cupboard door. Then I just need to either go through the back door or the front. No problem there.

But just as soon as the thought entered his mind, Harry realised it wouldn't be so simple; he would need to spend time planning out an escape. He would need money to survive, he would need to work out where he was going to go. At the same time, he needed to see just what he could do. Harry closed his eyes and mentally groaned at the thought, and he realised he really did need to form a plan.

Oh, this is going to be difficult, he realised, but he wasn't surprised. In the meantime, Harry decided he would just continue to experiment with his new powers, see just how far he could take them, and along the way, he would plan a way for him to escape.