1 Meals

Not yet five years old Harry could not remember a day in his life when he'd been happy or just content. Ever since he could remember, he had to do some "chores" to "pay" for the Dursleys keeping him, unlike Dudley. He also got very little to eat, very unlike Dudley, and was also punished severely for any mistake, real or presumed, also unlike Dudley. Well, truth to be told, he didn't want them to treat him the way they treated Dudley, pampering him in so many ways that the boy could no longer appreciate anything, eventually treating it all as his right, not as a privilege. What he would have liked was to eat better, have a better place to sleep, have some toys to play with and not so many chores to do. An occasional hug or kiss would have also been nice, but only if they came out of love and caring, not as a show.

For such a small child, Harry was quite mature. Well, being abused does that to a child. Being called "Freak", "a waste of space" or "a burden" doesn't help keep a child innocent either. Harry didn't know what all those words meant, except for "freak", or so he thought. A freak was someone different, despised, humiliated, and often abused. Yet "Freakishness" was also something his relatives (even at that young age he refused to think of them as his family) also feared. Couldn't he use that for his benefit?

Normally, he wasn't able to give anything much thought. By the time he finished all his chores and was given a meagre meal, he was usually too tired to do anything more than cuddle on his mattress and fall asleep. This time, though, was different.

During breakfast, it was lately his chore to take the full plates from Aunt Petunia and put them on the table in front of his Uncle Vernon and Dudley. This time, he failed to notice one of Dudley's toys on the floor and stumbled with the full plate in his hand, falling down, spilling the food and breaking the plate. As expected, they didn't blame Dudley for leaving his toys there. They blamed Harry for destroying a plate and wasting some food. He was sent back to his cupboard with no food and ordered to stay there until called. This gave him some time to think.

Couldn't he use his presumed "freakishness" to get some control of his relatives? The few times he remembered them clearly blaming his "freakishness" for something, it was always after he felt very frightened or very excited – usually both together. He also remembered a few times that his injuries healed much faster than expected. Could that also be an action of his "freakishness"? Looking back, it seemed like his special ability was a way to protect himself. Maybe he could make it act just by willing it to do something, not just when frightened?

Well, this was a good time to try it. What could he try to do? He didn't want anything too flashy – that would not end well. How about… making their stomach ache? That would be a good punishment for them not giving him enough food, if it worked, and the way the father and son ate, such aches were quite frequent and won't be attributed to him before he could learn to control them. Yes! That could work!

He concentrated real hard, trying to imagine the exact point where they would feel pain and then instructed his "freakishness" before letting it do his bidding. He kept his concentration for as long as he could before he felt too tired and lay down to rest.

He could hear some noises coming from the kitchen. Dudley was crying that his tummy hurt, and he was soon joined by his father. "It feels like the food is spoilt, although the taste was as good as ever. Did you try any new ingredients?"

"It's all the same as yesterday and the day before. I'll need to shop for some more by tomorrow. And yet, I also feel some unrest in my stomach," Petunia answered.

"Mummy! It hurts!" whined Dudley.

"Maybe the freak did something?" Vernon suggested.

"He can't even reach the counter and I only let him take that plate he had broken. As much as we don't like the burden, he had no chance to do anything," Petunia insisted.

Vernon went quiet for a moment and then spoke, his voice sounding full of malice. "Well, call the little vermin out and make him eat it, so we can be sure it's alright."

A moment later, Harry was shoved at the table and presented with an overflowing breakfast plate. "Eat as much as you like, but taste everything!" Aunt Petunia ordered.

Harry did as requested. He ate meticulously, chewing everything to fully enjoy the taste. He also remembered that he ate too quickly one time, fearing Dudley would steal his food, and ended with severe pains in his belly. This time he ate much slower, to also prevent such pains.

After a while, he felt almost too full. His aunt noticed him slowing down and thought that some drink would help him resume eating. Harry was surprised when she gave him the same warm chocolate drink as she was normally giving only Dudley. He thanked his aunt and then drank some. He then ate a bit more and finished his drink. "I'm full now. I can't eat anymore."

His uncle seemed of a mind to force him, but his aunt didn't seem to agree. Harry had already become an expert in understanding the unspoken interchange of facial and body expressions. He suspected that his aunt feared he might puke in her kitchen if he was forced to eat some more.

This was probably the reason why she didn't immediately burden him with chores. "It's a nice day outside. Go sit in the sun and let your body digest the food. I'll call you in when I need your help," his aunt told him.

Interestingly, she never asked for Dudley's help, although he was much taller, wider and stronger than Harry.

While doing as instructed, Harry's thoughts went back to his "freakishness". He thought that it did exactly what he'd asked of it. Had he really succeeded in controlling it? He would try some more, but not too soon. Attracting attention to himself was never good, based on his experience.

–..–

For a few days, they insisted that Harry eat a decent meal before they touched theirs. Harry considered this to be a positive change. He only hoped it would keep, but had no illusion it would.

Then, after watering the rose bushes – just another of his chores – he failed to notice some mud clinging to his trousers. It fell on the floor in the entrance hall only a moment before Vernon came home. That brought a beat on his behind and his banishment to his cupboard with no dinner.

The pain from being hit on his behind wasn't too bad, but Harry was hungry, after doing so many chores. Well, if they punished him, he would try to punish them! Once again he concentrated, imagined as accurately as he could what effect he had in mind and then let his "freakishness" do his bidding.

He wasn't too surprised when he was shoved out of his cupboard to serve as a test object for the food. It was the first time he had such a large dinner. Just before finishing as much as he could eat, he instructed his "freakishness" to gradually release his relatives' pains.

His aunt looked suspiciously at him when he thanked her for a delicious meal. His uncle only grumbled. Dudley was too busy devouring the remains from Harry's plate to pay attention to anything else.

From that evening on, Harry was required to "test" both breakfast and dinner before the others started eating. Dudley found it difficult to resist the temptation of grabbing some food from Harry's plate, but since each time gave him a stomach ache, he was forced to restrain himself.

Regularly eating both main meals helped Harry tremendously. His body started filling and he also started gaining some height. He didn't mind that he only got an apple or another fruit for lunch while Dudley got two sandwiches, at least. Harry wasn't sure he could eat more than that. Besides, he liked fruits much better than sandwiches.

Unfortunately, just like he had to "remind" Dudley why stealing his food was unwise, he also had to occasionally "remind" the boy's father. Whenever Uncle Vernon tried to punish Harry by denying him a meal, he was getting severe stomachaches. This made his position as a "food tester" more secure.

–..–

It was the day after such a "reminder" for Vernon when Aunt Petunia called Harry for a talk. Harry wasn't sure what it meant. He'd never had "a talk" with anybody and he wondered if this was good or bad. He still had to obey.

Aunt Petunia closed the kitchen door. Vernon had taken Dudley to a playground, so Harry was alone with his aunt at home.

She then motioned him to sit. She poured a glass of juice for him and took a cup of tea for herself. A central plate held some biscuits and she waved at it to indicate he could serve himself. It only helped confuse Harry some more.

"I wanted to talk to you about the stomachaches my family has experienced during the last few months," she started. "I know you don't poison the food or the drinks, but I also noticed that the aches happen usually after you are denied a meal. Don't you find it curious, maybe even freakish?"

Harry sighed internally. He wasn't even sure what "freakish" really meant. He still had to answer. "I'm not sure I understand. What do you mean by 'freakish'? I know you call me a freak, but I don't understand." Well, at such a young age, he couldn't be expected to understand much, he was sure.

Petunia sighed and seemed to hesitate, before finally reaching a reluctant decision. "I believe that you, Harry, have similar talents to your parents. While Vernon considered everything of that kind as freakishness, most people call it Magic. Your Mum and Dad could do magic, and I believe you can too. While adults who do magic usually use wands to control it, children who can do magic are not given wands since they can't normally control their magic, but it still reacts to their feelings. Can you tell me what you felt before the first bout of stomach aches?"

Harry wasn't ready for such a question. He needed to stall the conversation, to gain some time for thought. Well, she had given him something he could use. "You called me Harry! Is that my name? You never used it until now. Why?" Normally, he wasn't allowed to ask any questions, but he felt he could ignore that rule for this conversation.

Petunia sighed. "Yes, your name is Harry. Your full name is Harry James Potter, son of James Charlus Potter and Lily Joann Potter nee Evans, my sister. Vernon didn't want us to use your name as a way to make you forget about magic. It was clear to me that this had no chance to work as he wanted. Your magic is as much a part of you as your skin and your blood, but I did as he wanted to not cause quarrels. If he resorts to using his fists, I'm not strong enough to fight him."

Harry only half-listened, trying to think of the correct answer to her question. He was still appalled at the mention of possible violence between his aunt and uncle. Weren't they supposed to love each other?

As for Magic… Well, he suspected that whatever he had was something like that. How else could he affect his relatives without even seeing them, not to mention touching them?

"Now, care to answer my question?" she added.

Harry wasn't yet sure he was ready, but had no choice. "I felt offended and hurt, but mainly hungry. I had barely eaten anything the previous two days and I was looking forward to some food. I then thought that maybe my 'freakishness' could help me, but I wasn't sure if it could and how."

Petunia sighed. "I should have expected this. Your mother started showing her magic quite early too. I'll try to explain to Vernon that making a magical person, or a 'freak' as he prefers to call them, angry or agitated may be a bad idea, since magic would protect them and may even lash at whom it considers an enemy. I expect it to be quite difficult to change his behaviour but I'll do what I can. And please try to keep these incidents as rare as you can. It's safer for you, first."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure how much he understood, but he'd think of it later.

Petunia smiled sadly at him. "Go play in the lawn and pretend to care for the roses when Vernon returns. Don't tell Dudley anything, please."

Harry nodded again. He finished his juice, took two biscuits with him and left for the lawn. Petunia lifted her cup of tea and watched him pensively as he left.