Author's notes: Hi guys! I've been reading so much fanfiction, that I've decided to write one myself. I'm not sure whether this kind has been done before, but Harry's going to be powerful, smart, and all the good stuff. It starts when he's eight, and even then I might not put much pairings in it. I have the plot bunnies at my hand today, so it shouldn't be abandoned anytime sooner!
The Thirst to Prove
Harry Potter, aged 8, laid down on his thin mattress in the small cupboard of No. 4 Privet Drive. In all the neat, tidy houses that were stationed in order of the very normal street, Harry Potter, was everything but normal. Just yesterday, when he was hiding from Dudley and his gang, Harry found himself up on the top of the roof when he was supposed to be on the ground. His cousin, told on him, and the teacher called Harry's uncle and aunt, for "inappropriate climbing on school property". Needless to say, Vernon and Petunia were outrage, and shut him in his cupboard. So now he was cramped in his little space, his tummy growling every so often.
Harry picked up a spider that was crawling on the floor and gently lifted it out of the small window beside him. He was sure he wouldn't get any dinner tonight, and even if he did, it wouldn't satisfy half of what he needed. Harry wondered what life would be like if his parents had survived the car crash: would they love him? He snorted; Aunt Petunia smothered Dudley like he was going to die tomorrow, surely they'll love him. After school, he would find some of his classmates being picked up by their relatives, but none would be like Uncle Vernon, calling him "boy" and dragging him to the car by the ear. Maybe he was just unlucky to be stuck with such self-centered relatives. Sometimes Harry would imagine his parents in the cupboard with him, singing lullabies and reading him fairytales, about magical castles and great wizards. He once had a dream about a motorcycle flying, but ever since he mentioned reading about how Merlin could perform magic to his Aunt and Uncle, Uncle Vernon's face turned into a interesting shade of purple and threw him in his cupboard, saying, "If you can't be normal, you'd better act normal!" and didn't feed him for two days.
After that, he knew better than to mention oddness in the Dursley household. Just then, the door to his cupboard was thrown open.
Uncle Vernon glared at him." Boy, go help your Aunt make dinner. No more abnormality, do you hear?"
Harry nodded, and proceeded to go to the kitchen. Helping in the kitchen was not fun, especially when Dudley was at home. He would whine, beg to try out the food, and after trying it, he would spit it out in fake-disgust, and say the freak had purposely made it tasteless. Aunt Petunia would then yell at him for a full 5 minutes, and if he was lucky, he would not need to clean up the disgusting patch of liquid and solids where Dudley had graciously spit out. It was a funny thing, Harry mused, that Dudley would always finish his plate and ask for second helpings at the dining table.
Luckily, Dudley's pig-like eyes were glued to the screen that night, and Harry was able to cook in peace. He was quite a good cook, and sometimes Uncle Vernon would even compliment him. Yet later, Uncle Vernon would add on "Boy, if you get kicked out of school, you could always cook like a sissy and make a living out of it. Now, Dudley, my boy, would be a football player and be a real man! Right, Duddlers?"
Harry would somehow bite in his amusement. He was the top in his class, and even though his teacher didn't like him, Harry was on the list for being promoted to the next grade, maybe even two grades. He didn't even try – it came to him like second nature. He just knew it. And for Dudley being a football player? He'd probably squash on the opposite players and be jailed for "killing people by heavy suffocation".
This evening, the conversation topic was quite unusual, as Uncle Vernon hadn't degraded Harry in any way. When he was finished, Vernon glanced at Petunia and announced. "Harry, ever since your freak - " Petunia raised her eyebrows at him – "I mean, parents, yes, parents, died in the car crash, you have been living off us. We've gave you food, gave you clothes to wear, and we've given you a room to stay in." Harry inwardly snorted. "So, I think this is the time when you should repay us." Harry looked at him. "I've helped you found a job in London, washing dishes. Every day after school until 9, and the whole day on Saturday. Your Aunt was very generous; she decided to let you stay at home on Sundays. We will give you an allowance of 5 pounds a week though, fair enough?"
Harry stared at him. "Uncle Vernon, you do realize that it's against the law if I don't want to do it, right?" Vernon's face began changing colors. Realizing the signs, he hurriedly added "But I'll be willing to do it. I do, however, have a request. I want Dudley's second bedroom. I'll still do the chores around the house and you could cut my allowance to 3 pounds a week too"
Vernon looked at Petunia. Petunia's lips curled for a few seconds, then nodded slightly at Vernon. "Fine boy. But I won't be driving you to London every day. You go find a way. It's from five to nine on weekdays, and you'd better not be late!"
Harry smiled a bit and said, "Yes, sir!"
Dudley looked at his parents, and yelled "Mummy, I don't want the freak to live in my room! He'll dirty it!"
Petunia looked adoringly at her son and said, "Now sweetie, we'll buy you a new TV next week, and then you could forget about the old toys in Harry's bedroom."
Turning to Harry, she said, "What are you sitting here for? Go wash the dishes, and then move all your stuff up to your room! I don't want you touching any of the toys, I'll be moving them out soon!"
Harry picked up the dishes and rolled his eyes when his guardians weren't looking. He was eight, but he never wanted much toys. The toys Dudley had were just so boring. He could slightly remember him riding on a little broomstick, but he had dismissed it as a dream. After all, brooms couldn't be used to fly, right? But then, he wasn't supposed to appear suddenly on the tops of buildings, was he?
A/R: I've decided to call it Author's Rant since it's going to be the same every time: review!!