Disclaimer: All characters, settings, etc. that are recognizable are the property of their respective owners. I am not associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. Original characters and plot lines are Ethereal Euphoria's property. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter 1 – Singularity
Harry knew, the moment he saw his Mum lock the door to his nursery, that something was wrong. She kept a steady wand pointed at the door and he heard her heart make fast thumping sounds. Looking at his mother with a curious expression, he drank in her hazard appearance and shaken disposition. He remembered hearing his father cry out only moments before. He didn't understand a word his father said since the words were spoken quickly. It annoyed him.
He was shaken out of his reverie when the door blasted open and Harry took his first look at the man the entire Wizarding world feared: Lord Voldemort. Harry saw his snake-like features, blood red eyes and sickly looking skin. He heard that hiss of a voice and smelled a revolting smell of something rotting come off the dark robes that the man wore. The first thing Harry did was crinkle his nose at the sight and remain seated on his cot.
Voldemort laughed a high-pitched cackle at the sight of his Mum trying to defend him.
"Not Harry, not Harry! Please, not Harry!" his mother begged.
"Stand aside, you silly girl… Stand aside now!" Voldemort's face lost its amusement.
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead— "
'Voldemort didn't seem like the type to haggle with.' Harry mused as the scene played on before of him. He didn't understand a lot of what was happening but the distress his mother exuded was enough to get little Harry to stand up and walk towards his crib railings.
"Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy… "
Harry had a hand around the lock that would lower the railings and allow him to wobble towards his mother, but a sudden shrill of laughter stopped him. He looked on to see a bright green light, a color similar to his mother's eyes, shoot out from the stranger's wand and strike his mother. She had been standing only a few feet from him as he watched his mother fall, with a loud thump, to the floor.
His eyes grew wide as he looked into the glassy eyes of his beloved mother. Her red hair fanned around her, as if protecting her head from the hard wood floor. He knew, somehow, that she would never rise again. She would never again sing him a lullaby to get him to sleep. She would never kiss him goodnight and tell him that she loved him.
He tore his eyes away from the person who fed him, comforted him, and protected him. Now, his gaze was directed to the man who took that person away. It was high time that 'goo goo' and 'gaga' gave way. Little Harry Potter was mad and he would not let this murderer forget to never cross him again. And as he watched another green light ignite from the murderer's wand, watching it fly towards him, he felt an odd sense of hostility in following the 'get hit and die' rule. He felt it touch his forehead; trying to enter his brain and take the soul embedded in his little one-year-old body. His eyes widened as he felt it break through an unknown barrier. Feeling something snap within him, he felt pain. But mostly, he felt anger.
He glared at the man who murdered his mother in front of him, and lost that little piece of hope he had that his father would come to the rescue. He felt his anger, desperation, and sorrow build inside of him. He threw all that he had into knocking the light that was being absorbed into his brain, out of his little body. It was no longer green but a curious brightness of white. And, a petrifying scream later, he smiled.
Now… he could rest for a while.
Five years had passed since that night, and little Harry never forgot how it felt when that eerie green light hit him. The only other thing he could remember was his anger… everything else seemed to blend into his forgotten memories but who could blame him? Even for a prodigious child or genius, remembering anything seen, felt, or heard at the age of one was difficult. Nevertheless, it irked him knowing that he had forgotten something so important.
Harry watched intently as his Aunt Petunia showed him how to make breakfast. He was already mentally calculating the proportion of bacon to the cooking oil and best amount of heat and time to get the bacon to procure its best crisp. He turned her voice out and watched as eggs were scrambled next. He was so intense in watching and calculating that he did not notice his cousin push him from behind, effectively knocking into his aunt and making her drop the frying pan onto the kitchen floor with a loud clang. The food was spoiled and useless.
His uncle was not someone that had a very good handle on timing. But at that moment, Harry felt some doubt concerning that fact since this was the exact moment his Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen.
Looking back on it, Harry thought that he was pretty lucky. He was supposed to go to the market but after the disaster with the bacon and eggs, he was removed the honor of helping Aunt Petunia shop for groceries. That usually meant that he would be left home with a large pile of chores, or sent to Mrs. Figg and her numerous cats. But Mrs. Figg had a bout of flu and Dudley had a play date with a kid named Piers. His Uncle Vernon had been given the task to watch over him. To put it simply, Number Four was locked and Harry was kicked out for the afternoon.
He was a small child, he knew that, standing at least a few inches shorter than most of his peers. But he also knew he was smarter than most. What he lacked in height and body mass, he gained monumentally in his ability to learn. He would finish all his school worksheets the day they were given, carefully writing in pencil so he could erase most of his work before handing it to the teacher. Aside from the time he took to finish the worksheets, he had nothing else to do in class and grew bored quickly.
One day, he noticed a group of older kids and their nice teacher go outside to study the world around them. This immediately caught his interest and any inkling he had of actually listening to his own teacher was gone. He was seated near the window so he heard the lessons and lectures that the class was studying. What he didn't know however was that this class was the advanced placement class and was studying way beyond even their age level.
That was how he came to learn of the wonderful world of Physics. He learned that every action had an equal and opposite reaction, and that energy could neither be created nor destroyed but transformed. He learned of calculations way above addition and subtraction. He learned the laws of gravity and the acceleration rate of a free falling body.
He came to the park and watched all the other children play. He remembered what the older kids' teacher told the class just the other day at school.
"See this pencil and this rock? Which one do you think will reach the ground first?" she asked.
The children pointed to the rock.
"How about if I hold the rock higher than the pencil before I let them both go?"
The children now pointed to the pencil.
"Let's see shall we?"
The rock and the pencil both landed on the ground at the exact same time.
"Gravity is a force that acts constantly on everyone and everything. When a body free falls, it falls at the acceleration rate of 9.8 meters per second squared."
Harry looked down at his feet where a pebble was resting innocently on the ground. He picked it up and held it in his hand, his arm outstretched before him. He let go.
It was in slow motion in his eyes as he calculated the velocity then the rate of acceleration: 9.8 meters per second squared. He picked it up again. Held it at the same height, and let go. Unknowingly, all he could think about was proving that nice teacher wrong. And as he calculated for the rate of acceleration once more, he grinned: 8.9 meters per second squared.
Ever since that day at the park, Harry spent a lot of time at the school library, reading thick texts of chemistry, physics, physical science, algebra, history, trigonometry and calculus. He was extremely happy that the high school and the elementary school libraries were combined so he was able to read books that he would not usually be able to access without a few raised eyebrows.
He didn't know how he did what he did, but he knew he was having fun. In the boys' toilets, he watched as he made water flow upwards. He made a fully-grown fly slowly de-age and become a maggot and then grow back. He made a spider unwind its own web, while dancing in the process. He walked on thin air five centimeters off the ground while his peers moved around him, oblivious. He was having so much fun.
After their original music teacher went on her maternity leave, the new substitute, Ms. Robinson, asked the class to pick up an instrument and try to play it as part of the first lesson. The entire class was very excited. Harry and his classmates watched their teacher show them how to play each of the instruments in the room before asking them to try. Dudley picked the drums and whacked at it with all his might. Some of the other kids picked the piano and it became somewhat hard to listen to even for those who took lessons. They played the pieces they were taught, albeit a bit off key. Most of the class chose to play the guitar, and tried imitating rock stars they saw on television.
Harry, on the other hand, picked up the violin.
"Are you sure you want to play the violin Harry?" his teacher asked.
He nodded. He had seen the finger movements and adjustments as well as the bow stroke along with its corresponding sound. All he needed now was to see how hard he had to press his fingers. He couldn't lie: the harder he pressed his fingers against the strings the more it hurt. Despite the pain, though, he knew that it was something that would dull over time and great practice.
A beautiful quivering note escaped from the violin as Harry tested it out. He smiled, feeling more confident, and started playing the piece Ms. Robinson played… only backwards.
The rest of the kids in class were cringing at the unusual music, and Dudley was laughing at him. But Ms. Robinson was looking at him with a pale face and surprised eyes. After he finished, she asked the rest of the class to have their recess, but asked him to stay behind. He was curious as to what she wanted to speak to him about since he caught the faces of the few of his classmates who were unable to play any instrument.
That was when he found out that once he saw something done, he could do it. And apparently, it was not common to possess that particular skill.
Harry, now age ten, remembered his surprise when he found out from Ms. Robinson that it was not 'normal' to be able to do the things he did with the violin, and later on with the piano and the flute which she made him try after watching her play each instrument. That was what got Harry to start wondering if the others couldn't make a rock fall at a different acceleration rate or make a maggot grow into a fly and back. He didn't understand. He thought at first that maybe it was because everyone wanted to follow the rules he read in books. Like how some followed the rules at school. Dudley broke a lot of those and never got more than a note sent home. So he figured it was okay to break a few of the rules he read. He didn't expect that the others literally couldn't break the rules.
Ms. Robinson called him a prodigy or little genius. He asked her to forget the entire thing happened. And amazingly, she did. He always held back at class, hence the worksheets being erased before submission. But he thought everyone did it since Dudley was a bully who didn't particularly like people who were smarter than he. He especially didn't like those he considered lower than he was getting higher grades than him. Harry understood that it was an unspoken rule that people didn't cross a bully that could get away with hurting them. So Harry broke that unspoken rule shortly after the violin incident. He got higher than Dudley by a whole grade point, but he found that maybe he didn't like to break the unspoken rules. He was locked in his cupboard with nothing to do for a week for doing that stint.
Harry was soon getting bored at school. He had read all the books that he could in the library and repeated a lot of them to the point of being able to correct a few published misinformation he discovered when he tried to break the rules in the books. Although he wasn't the type to memorize, he never forgot a term in his life and drank up every encyclopedia and dictionary he could get his hands on, including those in different languages. That was another funny thing about him. He could do all these things and most of them… he didn't even try to do.
One day, as he stood to fetch the mail, he had an odd sense of foreboding. And as he saw a cream colored kind of paper in between the white envelops and colored postcards, he knew why.
He handed over the rest of the mail to his uncle and made a mad dash to his cupboard. He opened his letter and read through it.
A whole new world opened up to him, and it was one full of magic and unexplored possibilities. He smiled as he finally found the explanation pertaining to the countless things he could do that others couldn't. As he read on to the course books, he smiled even wider. A whole new world and a whole new set of rules he wanted to see broken.
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