When Harry was 4-years-old and starting school with Dudley, Aunt Petunia took them shopping for school supplies. They need a yoga pad (for afternoon naps) their favorite books (for story time), crayons, a pencil, and a notebook (to practice their letters and for coloring).
Dudley got a big, squishy yoga mat. Harry was given the thin, less expensive mat. Then, Dudley was given a cool book that had a lot of pop out pages and knobs to turn. Harry received a secondhand book with torn pages and marks on the book. Dudley was given the best crayons. All 58 colors were listed on the package and it even had a crayon sharpener built into it. That crayon set was what Harry was most jealous of. Harry was more artistic than his cousin. Whenever Harry wasn't doing chores, he was coloring. Yet, Harry only received 12 crayons for school (given, that was better than what he used for coloring at home). Then, when the pair went to pick out pencils, Dudley got some really cool pencils that looked like pens and could light up. Harry was given a simple No. 2.
Even the notebook that Aunt Petunia bought for Harry was ratty and old.
And it was the best notebook Harry ever had.
They didn't use the notebooks for the first few months of school, until after they were accustomed to writing their letters properly. Then, the children started learning basic words and spelling. Harry had trouble because his notebook didn't have lines in it. His sentences ended up curving over the page and going crooked. The worst part of the entire ordeal was that someone kept stealing Harry's pages. Harry was sure of it. Whenever the teacher asked for his work at the end of the week, all of his pages were gone. The notebook was blank.
Harry didn't like primary school that much. Especially nap time, when Harry had to lay still for several hours even though he could never fall sleep. Luckily, after Harry complained, the teacher said she would let him stay up as long as he kept to his mat and didn't disturb the other children. She said Harry could color or look at picture books or do whatever else he wanted to, as long as he was quiet.
One day, Harry decided that he would steal Dudley's 52 crayons and make pictures in his notebook. He figured he couldn't get in trouble for it, because someone was stealing his pages, so no one would ever see the multicolored drawings Harry made in his designated writing book.
After a week of using Dudley's crayons, it happened.
Harry had just drawn a picture of the small playhouse kept in the corner of the room, where he liked to play during free time. Harry was extremely proud of his work. He had drawn all the lines and all the colors just right. Harry was preparing to get up and go show the picture to his teacher when something amazing happened. The colors started fading off the page!
A moment latter, Harry's beautiful picture was gone. And Harry became extremely upset. His picture, the beautiful picture of his favorite play area, was gone! He had worked so hard on that picture! He had spent almost all of nap time drawing it.
Harry was sure that Dudley had found him playing with the 52 crayon pack and had played a nasty trick.
But then, Harry was astounded again. Words began forming on the page.
Your drawings are nice. Is that the house where you live?
Harry became very excited, and he immediately started writing. His handwriting was sloppy, and Harry didn't know how to spell most of the words, but the other writer was patient, and began showing Harry the correct spelling.
However, after that first afternoon, the notebook's pages remained blank for a long, long time.
After the initial conversation, Harry thought it was just a dream. When he got home from school, Harry wrote a greeting and the other writer didn't answer back. But then, after staring at his sloppy handwriting long enough, the ink slowly faded from the page. Then, Harry knew that whoever was writing him was still there. At the end of that week, Harry wrote in the journal that he needed his spelling assignments from the past week, and suddenly it was all there.
Harry wrote constantly after that. Even though no one wrote back, he felt like someone was listening to him, and Harry told the person so. Harry told the person that no one listened to him when he tried to tell them things. Especially his family. Harry explained that no one listened when he told them he really was sick, and not just trying to stay home from school, and that no one listened when he told them that Dudley was the one who kicked the side of the television and broke it.
Harry became very attached to the idea of someone listening to him, and maybe even caring, even though there were no replies, He knew someone was there, and he knew they were reading his words. Harry started keeping the notebook with him at all times, to keep it safe. Dudley once whined about wanting the notebook because even though the pages were yellowed and wrinkled, the cover was made of leather. That night, Harry hid the notebook. When his relatives came looking for it, they couldn't find it. Soon, Dudley threw a temper tantrum, and his parents had to rush out and get him a nice leather notebook before he would stop screaming and breaking Petunia's decorative china.
When he told the notebook about this, Harry finally received a response. The writer asked Harry where he hid the notebook. Harry was glad to launch into his story.
It was another two years before Harry discovered that the notebook contained a living person (or once living). It came about when Aunt Petunia cut his hair one day, and it all grew back over night. Harry was locked into the cupboard and had no one to talk to except for Tom. That was when Tom explained that Harry was a wizard. At first, Harry said it was impossible. His relatives told him that magic didn't exist. But Tom said ThenhowwasItrappedinthisjournal?
Harry didn't know how to answer. He always assumed there was something electronic hidden within the leather cover. Like a computer, or some kind transmitter.
However, Harry quickly came around to the idea. After all, he was a child. He was a lonely child with a negligent family and only one friend, and he much preferred to listen to the things his friend told him than to the things his family said.
Soon, Tom was telling Harry all about magic and Hogwarts, and how Tom hadn't known he was a wizard until he was invited to the school.
Tom told Harry to be weary of Hogwarts. Tom told stories about how the teachers were idiots, and if Harry really wanted to learn anything useful, he had to learn it on his own. Then, Tom told Harry about how very few of the students understood this, and knowledge had to be forced on them. Tom informed Harry that there would be one or two other people who would want to learn with him, but Harry would mostly be on his own.
He told Harry horror stories about Albus Dumbledore, who got mad when Tom tried to learn things on his own. Tom said the old man was very strict about magic. Dumbledore didn't believe that magic was simply magic. He believed that there was a distinct difference between good magic and bad magic. Tom told Harry that while some magic did hurt people, it was meant to be that way. Harry decided to apply this idea to radiation, because while it could cure cancer, it still hurt someone while healing them or it could kill a person after too much exposure. Tom agreed with his analogy (even though he didn't know what radiation was at the time), then he went on to explain that there was a very delicate balance to energy, and it was colored good or bad depending on the spirit of the wielder.
Tom also told Harry about his tragic past- his dead mother, his father's abandonment, and how horrible the orphanage was. Tom's stories of the orphanage were what scared Harry the most. Uncle Vernon threatened to take him to an orphanage all the time. Tom said there were horrible people on the streets, and they did mean things to children. His stories sometimes reminded Harry of his own aunt and uncle, and of how Dudley made all the children at school hate him. Because of the similarity of their situations, Harry began to take great stock in Tom's wisdom. After all, Tom was older, and he had more experience than Harry did. Then, there was also the small fact that Tom was very, very smart.
After coming to this conclusion, Harry clung to Tom's every piece of advice with the hopes that he could avoid some of the events Tom had gone through.
Tom was all Harry had. Their connection was reinforced and strengthened by their similarities: neither of them grew up with parents, they weren't cared for by the people who were given responsibility for them, and they were both magical people growing up in a non-magical environment. By the time Harry was 9-years-old, Harry idolized Tom, and they were best friends. The two told each other everything. Tom told Harry about how he wanted to change the entire world; he wanted to completely reform wizard society by enacting old wizard traditions and creating a greater division between wizards and Muggles so that wizard-kind could truly embrace their magic and live as their own entities. Harry shared this ambition with him, and so Tom began teaching Harry some basic magic.
Their first goal: getting Tom out of the journal. Harry was taught basic exercises on how to control his magic even if Harry wasn't yet strong enough to completely feel it. Harry used these lessons to send his energy to Tom. The first time their energy connected, it was wonderful- at least for the first minuet. For a brief moment, Harry was completely aware of his magic, and he could feel it coursing through him. Harry loved the reassurance of his magic.
But then Harry got too excited. He started sending too much magic to Tom. Huge bursts of energy began pulsing through he connection, and Harry put myself into a magical coma. He retreated into himself for 4 days, and the Dursley's had to send Harry to the hospital.
The Muggles never did understand what was wrong with Harry. They called it a vitamin deficiency.
Harry was happy to get home, especially because his relatives hadn't brought Tom's journal to the hospital. He was ready write in the notebook again and talk to his friend, tell him about how amazing the magic felt, even if the results were less than pleasant.
But when Harry went to his cupboard, he was astonished. He saw a strange creature sitting on his bed. It had red eyes, sharp teeth and long, claw-like fingers. When it first saw Harry, it smiled, showing Harry its razor-sharp teeth. At first, Harry was terrified. But then he looked at the creature's eyes, and Harry didn't see any malice or ill intent. Instead, Harry saw a calm happiness, and suddenly the creature seemed much more human. Harry knew it was Tom. Harry knew that his magic had worked, and Tom was alive again.
"No one can see me but you," Tom told Harry, making room for him on the bed. "I tried asking your relatives where you were and they walked right through me."
"Why?" Harry breathed, still intently studying Tom's young but not-human face.
"Because it was your magic that fed me, so now it's part of me, and I'm a part of you. I'm not solid or alive or anything, though. I would have to completely drain you of your magic to regain myself."
"But you didn't?" Harry asked.
Tom smiled, and again his sharp teeth flashed. "Of course not, Harry. If your magic was drained, you would die. Your death would be a waste? I'm sorry you had to go to the hospital, though."
It didn't matter to Harry. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd ended up in the hospital for a month. He was only glad to see his friend, to hear his voice, to have someone.
Tom didn't appear quiet as Harry thought he would. After years of building Tom in his imagination, the idea Harry had created of him was god-like. To see Tom looking so normal (despite the haunting eyes and claw-like fingers) gave Harry the most wonderful feeling in the world. In his mind, Tom had always been ten feet tall, with an unearthly glow around him (although the glow from his red eyes was just as unearthly). He was far less human than Harry imagined, but he was still somehow perfect.
As time continued to pass, Harry found that Tom knew just what to say when Harry was upset, he still knew how to help Harry with his school work and with his magic, and he still knew how to talk to Harry when Harry was bored. And now, with his new body, he knew just when to smile, too.
Annoying Note: So there's the first chapter! I hope the storys ounds interesting so far. Review, please!