Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling.

Some of the concepts that will be in this fic are from other fan fictions about Harry Potter with my own twist on them. So I would like to acknowledge all the Harry Potter fan writers on this site for great work and hundreds of hours of reading. This is an AU story.

Harry Potter

My Life Is My Own

Chapter 1: All the Memories

As he emerged from the warm darkness he had developed and grown in for the last nine months, Harry experienced a brilliant bright light. He found himself in the arms of a brown haired, blue eyed person wearing a white robe. He was drawn to a shiny elongated object pinned to the white robe. Curious he reached for the object. Unable to reach it, it began to float to him. His inability to knowingly grasp the object in his infant hand it fell to the floor. At the gasp of surprise he looked back into the blue eyes and fell into a peaceful slumber dreaming of shiny objects dancing around in the air.

With the first flutters of Harry's eyes, he saw a blurry image of a woman's face. The image grew nearer becoming clearer and more defined. He looked into the most beautiful and loving green eyes. This would become his first and most cherished memory of Lily, his mother. Her long flowing red hair falling forward onto his face, her smile filled with such joy. She began cooing at him in a soft soothing voice. A face filled with weariness yet radiant. Another image began to form in front of him, "Hello, son." It was a face filled with such pride, topped with messy black hair and round glasses over striking hazel eyes.

At the young age of five Harry was subjected to horrible cruelties by his guardians. His only escape was to use his memories to comfort him.

Harry has the amazing gift and at times a terrible curse of remembering every moment of his life since birth. As punishment Harry was forced to spend many hours sometimes days locked in his bedroom, the cupboard under the stairs. The memory of his mother nurturing him, reading to him or the feeling of the soft skin of her fingers gripped in his tiny clumsy hand were always there when needed. He shared joyous moments with his Da playing on the nursery floor with Padfoot never far away. Experiencing Padfoot shifting into Sirius was such a delight. His favorite memories were his mother's laughter at his father's antics. One particular incident when Da turned Mooney's hair green gave her such a fit of laughter. These memories were what Harry held onto desperately.

While Harry played in his cot he would listen to his parents reminiscing of places and people they were acquainted with. Da would recall with such fondness his memories of himself and Sirius fooling around with someone named Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

Such strange names for people Harry thought.

His parents would at times receive guests, one such person was Professor Dumbledore. He remembers him as an older man with a long white beard and a twinkle in his eyes. Often his parents spoke of a place which held many memories for them, Hogwarts where they had attended school.

Harry always impatiently awaited his father's return from Diagon Alley where he went to purchase needed items. These places he had no recollection of, none he could recall anyway.

Harry was also able to recall every word spoken around him or at him. He could remember the words or conversation although he did not always understand their meaning or their content. Every year as he matured he began to slowly understand and was able to interpret their meanings.

One evening after being laid to bed in his cot, Harry heard his Da cry out, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -". His mother frantically entered his room and closed the door behind her. As the door burst open a cruel laughter echoed throughout the room, terrifying him. A man with a snake-like face appeared thru the opened door. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" "Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now.""Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -""Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy… ". Avada Kadavra was the word spoken then a blinding green light flashes, He looks down and sees his mother lying motionless on the floor. Again the cold cruel laugh split the air. Avada Kadavra will always remain words that fill Harry with anger, fear and loss.

This is his last memory of his mother and most frequent nightmare, her body lying motionless on the floor. She was gone. He would later learn that he also lost his father that night. He was taken from his parent's home by a huge bear of a man with a face full of dark messy hair and placed with strangers by Professor Dumbledore.

These strangers he would come to know as his Aunt and Uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley. The Dursley's always told him that his parents died in an automobile accident, Harry knew this to be a lie. He had the memory of his mother's death. His new guardians constantly spoke hatefully about his parents, "Drunkards, nothing but Drunkards". Once Harry was old enough to defend his parents he questioned these accusations. That is when the thrashings began and with them came the long days in the cupboard.

Memories would come to Harry while waiting in his cupboard; this helped to pass the time. Today he was waiting for Dudley's fifth birthday party to end. Then Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia would come for him, time to clean up after his spoiled cousin. Now at the age of five Harry's guardians believed him old enough to contribute to the household chores. In truth it meant Harry was to do all of the chores. He was to clean, cook, and to obey every command. At age three Harry learned what hatred his new guardians had for him when he unintentionally dyed all of the whites pink in the wash. Enraged Uncle Vernon twisted his wrist until a chilling crack was heard.

Before he was retrieved from the cupboard his memories were interrupted by a small spider crawling from the floor to his foot. With a flick of his finger, the small spider was floating in the air a foot in front of him. Harry whispered, "I thought we had a deal. You are to stay off me, and I won't squish you."

With another flick of his finger the spider floated to the corner of the cupboard and disappeared. Hearing the bang of the front door and the footsteps heading towards his cupboard door, he knew it was time. As the door was opened to Harry's dim cupboard he was exposed to a painful bright light.

In an unusually light mood Uncle Vernon commanded without sneering, "Boy! Get out of there NOW and clean this mess up."

"Yes, sir," replied Harry as he climbed out of the cupboard.

"None of your freakiness or you will regret it." Uncle Vernon walked to the creamed colored kitchen door; as he pushed the door open he turned back and gave Harry the sneer he had expected.

"Yes, sir," Harry repeated with a desolate look on his face. He scanned the mess he was to clean. Tiny pieces of wrapping paper scattered everywhere.

Dudley is such a fat pig, surely he did his best to make a bigger mess for me. It was nearly an hour before he was able to finish cleaning Dudley's mess. Aunt Petunia entered the room to inspect his progress. Harry was drawn to her red blouse.

Red eyes on a snake-like face, anger rose in Harry's chest. After his mom fell to the floor the snake faced man slithered towards Harry as he stood in his cot crying. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… NO child will ever defeat me, Lord Voldemort." Voldemort hissed.

"You missed some in that corner, BOY," she said pointing to the far corner behind Uncle Vernon's overstuffed chair. At Aunt Petunia's order, Harry snapped out of his memory of Voldemort. She walked out of the room to the stairs and called for Dudley to come down. A moment later, Dudley pounded down the stairs with an irritated look on his face.

"WHAT? I am playing with my new toys!" whined Dudley.

"Well, Dudly-kins, now that you're five you'll be attending school soon, and I want you to do your very best." Petunia turned and glared at Harry. "Unfortunately, he will have to attend school as well. Not that he is intelligent enough to learn anything."

"I don't want to go to school with the freak, Mum!" cried Dudley

"I know dear but he has to go," replied Petunia. Harry made no comment. He did not want to show the excitement he felt, to be able to begin to explore and learn new things. It would be more satisfying to Aunt Petunia if she thought that Harry was upset about attending school with Dudley.

Excitement filled Harry almost to bursting; the first day of school was here. He awoke early and began cooking breakfast for his guardians. Aunt Petunia stormed into the kitchen upset at not finding Harry in his cupboard. Her angered turned to irritate surprise when she saw he was already preparing their morning meal. Uncle Vernon and Dudley entered minutes after.

"You do well today, Dudley, and stay away from the freak," his uncle said between mouthfuls of food. "And you, boy, will stay out of trouble or else!"

"Yes, sir," responded Harry, his eyes staring down at the floor. After breakfast was consumed, Harry washed the dishes and readied himself for school in his oversized hand me down clothes then went to the front door to wait for his uncle and cousin. Harry followed them out taking his place on the rear seat of the black sedan.

Classes began, Harry absorbing every aspect of his lessons. He learned his ABCs and 1-2-3s, he was beginning to learning how to spell out words written on the blackboard. Harry was quick learned and ready to begin the basics of reading. To appease his guardians expectations Harry did not participate with the class during lessons. He believed if he did not excel his thrashings at home would not be as severe.

During his noon breaks; Harry wishing to avoid Dudley and his constant taunting would find discrete places to hide himself. Unfortunately, Dudley chose to spend his breaks gathering his friends to help with the taunting. Dudley and his gang of followers spent their time seeking out Harry. At the sight of Harry they would begin to chase and torment him. "Let's get the freak. You cannot hide from us, FREAK!" Harry wasn't able to out run the gang of gits for long.

Cornered by Dudley and his gang; harry closed his eyes and raised his arms to defend his face as they started thrashing him. He thought "I wish I was away from here." The thrashing stopped. Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was on the rooftop. Confused he walked to the side of the building and climbed down a pipe. When he reached the ground he turned to walk in to the school only he ran into a teacher instead. Following the teacher to the Headmaster's office he panicked "How did that happen? How will I explain? OH NO! I will get thrashing for this for sure."

Harry waited nervously as the Headmaster lectured him. "The rules of the school are to be followed. Each student is expected to behave properly."The Headmaster's voice began to fade into the background as Harry began reviewing the incident in his mind. He remembered wishing to be elsewhere. Suddenly, he appeared on the rooftop as though he arrived through a small pipe.

Harry pondered, "Maybe it's like my ability to move things. I must have placed myself there, it must be the magic".

'His magic is really strong, Lils,' Da commented while sitting in the study with Mum. Harry in his cot playing with blocks that had symbols on them, that were unknown to him. Giggling, Harry made the blocks float away and around the cot and back again.

'Do you really believe we must put a magic lock on him so he doesn't harm his magical core?' his mother asked watching Harry with concern.

'No let's not, it can wait till after he turns one. Presently he is controlling his magic well.'

Sounds of voices nearing the door of the Headmaster's office brought Harry back to the present. Aunt Petunia entered the room glancing at Harry with a look of disgust. He knew that this night would be an extremely painful one.

Arriving at home Harry faced the wrath of his Uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon words were filled with such hatred and disgust. "What have you gone and done this time you worthless little freak!" He threw Harry to the floor kicking him as Harry curled into a ball. Wheezing from the effort Uncle Vernon tossed Harry into his cupboard.

Breathing became difficult for Harry he had such pain in his sides. In so much pain he lay on his mattress quietly crying. He could hear his Aunt and Uncle arguing with one another. "Why ever did we agree to care for that little freak?" "It is the only way to be protected." Harry was unable to follow the whole conversation due to his state of distress. From sheer exhaustion Harry fell fast asleep.

When Harry woke the next morning his pain and injuries had completely disappeared. He was now able to breath without difficulty. He rose and tended to his usual morning chores and went to school. Today Harry would approach the teacher and request permission to spend his break in the library. Understanding the altercations Harry experienced during break the day before she allowed his request. The library became a sanctuary for Harry. He was intent on improving his reading. Everyday for the rest of the term Harry would spend all his time exploring the libraries selections of books.

Harry's progress with his studies accelerated rapidly. Before the end of the term he was able to read fluently and was reading four to five stories a week. Although the library was not filled with an abundance of selections he was supplied with many story books. He also had the opportunity to read some higher level books which included course books for the upper grades. He was able to avoid all confrontation with Dudley for the rest of the school term. By the time summer arrived Harry had read all of the story books and some of the course books the library offered. For Harry to avoid some further thrashings from his Uncle he needed to allow Dudley to have better marks than him so Harry did not give the same effort in his courses as he gave during his time spent in the library. He was able to barely pass the courses that term. The Dursleys rewarded Dudley for his meritocracy and were very satisfied with Harry's poor marks.

Boredom filled Harry's summer. Harry's amazing memory allowed him to recall all the words written in the books he had read during the school term. He was able to revisit each story in vivid detail. His mind brought each story to life. Regrettably this did not suppress Harry's boredom. Each morning Harry would follow his usual routine of caring for the Dursley's cooking and cleaning. Midmorning found Harry in Aunt Petunia's garden under strict instructions that her garden be the envy of the neighborhood. There were many evenings Harry was sent to his cupboard without supper. The floor did not shine enough. The dishes were not scrubbed properly. Aunt Petunia always found flaw with Harry's work. He grew accustomed to this and was able to adjust. His guardians asleep for the night he would quietly make his way to the kitchen and prepare himself a small meal.

Two weeks into the summer break Harry was able to bravely approach Aunt Petunia with a request. With his head bowed Harry asked,

"Aunt Petunia after I have attended to all my morning chores and have completed the gardening to your liking may I be allowed to go to the Surrey Library?"

"Whatever would a dimwitted boy like you do at the library? Look at picture books. Whatever are you up to, boy?" Harry held his anger. He knew not to show fear or anger to his guardians. It pleased them to know the torment it caused Harry. He could not allow his Aunt to know how anxiously he wanted to go. If she were to know she would never allow it.

"Why should I allow such a thing?" squawked Aunt Petunia.

In a subservient voice he replied, "With my absence it would make for a peaceful afternoon. If I were allowed to go I would come home prepare supper and retire to the cupboard straight away."

Aunt Petunia contemplated Harry's request for several moments, a look of suspicion in her eyes. With a distrustful smirk on her face Petunia decided. As she made her exit she stated "Fine, you may go. If any trouble comes from this, you will regret it."

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry as he started for the door.

The library would be a welcomed escape from the daily cruelties of his cousin. 'Harry hunting' had become one of Dudley's games of choice. Rules of the game find Harry and give him a good thrashing. On occasion Dudley's pals would join in the hunt making the game much more painful. Each night Harry would retire to his cupboard badly bruised. Waking in the morning the bruises would only be a memory. Cuts would heal, breaks would mend, bruises would resolve, but the odd lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead always remained.

Unscathed Harry reached the library. Entering the main door Harry was speechless by the wondrous amount of books available to him. Quite content Harry approached the librarian, "If I am only to sit here and read would it require a library card?" Being that it was not required Harry wondered around the library contemplating which section to begin in.

To start it would be the fiction section. Selecting a book that interested him, he chose a secluded area to quietly read. Returning home Harry was able to add two new books to his collection of stories. Between his daily chores and his ventures to the library Harry's birthday passed unobserved. At the conclusion of the summer Harry had added a remarkable amount of books to his collection.

Fall had arrived and it was time to return to school. Harry was not anticipating the new school term as he had the year before. During the summer Harry's reading level had progressed well beyond the level of this term's courses. Again Harry would need to continue to bring home poor marks to appease his guardians. It grew increasingly more difficult to maintain the illusion that Dudley was much more advanced in his studies. This term would prove to be very unchallenging for Harry. He once again spent his noon breaks in the library searching for new books to read. Harry selected a book from the shelf, 'The Charm School by Helen W.'

Harry awoke cradled in the arms of his mother while she was reading. They were sitting in his father's study that contained two full walls of books. He had been sleeping when his mother selected the large book she currently held in her hands. Comfortable in his mothers arms Harry lay listening to his mother mumbling to herself.

Reliving the memory Harry was drawn to the words written on the pages. Supersensory charm- Lets the castersense things out of his or her line of sight. It included a depiction of wand movements and words foreign to Harry. It discussed the theory of the charm by whom it was developed and when. "786, Could that be correct?" Harry thought to himself."The large book must have been a book of magic." "Do I have a wand?" Harry focused on the words that he had never seen before. 'Ex-i-mi-us Sen-sus'

Harry searched his memories. He was curious to know if he had ever been given a wand. The only memory he found relative to wands were of his father. "Give daddy his wand, Harry. No don't wave it around, just let Daddy have it." Harry gave his father the wand but not before he waved it dramatically around in the air. Poor Da had no hair for a week. Harry had to restrain himself from giggling too loudly as not to draw attention to him.

The rest of the school year was uneventful. Harry was successful in "staying out of trouble" his Aunt would say. He continued to frequent the school library on his breaks. Harry had finally managed to read every book in the library. By beginning of summer he had began rereading several books in the library. He was ready to return to the Surrey Library to escape into the many books he had yet to discover.

Summer was to be a repeat of the last. Daily chores, thrashings when things were not done to perfection and hours locked in the cupboard. Harry did manage to again convince Aunt Petunia to allow him the daily trips to the Surrey Library. There were so many selections left for Harry to read and put to memory.

He found that if he scanned the pages he could place them in his memory and explore them later. Once he completed the fiction section he was able to move on to the reference section. One set of encyclopedias, secondary school course books, periodicals and he even scanned a basic law book designed for quick reference. It was incredible the amount of books Harry could put to memory. He could now select a book from memory to fill his lonely hours in the cupboard with an adventure or a mystery story.

A couple weeks into the summer Harry approached the Librarian with a slip of paper in his hand. "Madam, could you help me with something? I found a couple words in a book. I don't understand them and I cannot find them in the dictionary." Harry handed the slip of paper with "Eximius Sensus" written on it to the librarian and she looked at it.

"Oh well, you would not find these words in an English dictionary, these are Latin. There is a Latin dictionary in the main library in London but it is very old and they don't let it out. You would have to visit there."

"Thank you, Madam, for your help." Harry returned to his reading. London? Well that will have to wait for another time.

Seven years old today, another year without celebration for Harry not even a Happy Birthday. Summer is midway through. He continued his daily routine throughout the rest of August. Another school year would come and go. It would also be the usual routine for Harry. The only change Harry experienced was his body changing becoming more agile, faster. He now had the ability to out run his fat fool of a cousin. He was determined to not let Dudley humiliate him any longer. With the end of another school year comes summer.

After spending a long afternoon in the Surrey Library, Harry began his walk home and avoiding Dudley. As he walked his head begun to ache, by the time he got home it was unbearable. He made his way to his cupboard and lay clutching his head. He felt as though his skull would split in two. Thousands of words and images were scrambling about in his mind. He tried to control the swirling of information he had stored in his memory but it only intensified.

How can I keep all this straight in my head? I have to make it stop.

How to stop it? How can I stop it? As Harry was thinking he seemed to enter his mind. He seemed to be roaming his mind looking at the different books, images and memories all swirling around. Walking further into his mind he came to stand in front of a large wooden door. He looked up and around at the huge building. It was such a sight like nothing Harry had ever seen. It was made of old heavy stones with small windows in what appeared to be the second and third floors. The walls seemed to flow, not forming corners it just continued around until they met again. Fearfully Harry stepped closer to the wide double doors with iron hinges and strapping, they opened at his approach. Harry jump back in surprise. Cautiously he stepped inside brushing up against the door he realized that it felt real. He could feel the smoothness of the heavy wood. He walked into a small square room with another, what looked like could be a set of double doors directly in front of him. Unlike the first set of double door these were black and resembled glass. To his left and right there were smaller wooden doors.

Am I dreaming? Where am I? What is this place?

Harry turned left and nearing the door it again began opening for him, an empty room lay beyond. The door to the right was another empty room as well.

"How strange!" Approaching the black glass wall he expected it to open as the other doors had but they didn't. He reached out and laid a hand on the glass 'CRACK' he looked up and saw a crack forming at the top of the glass. The crack traveled down the center of the glass till it reached the bottom, then slid open like normal double doors. Suddenly Harry was pushed forward by a gush of wind.

His memories, images and pages of books he had read quickly flew past him filling the room. They all danced and floated around the room beyond the glass doors in a massive whirlwind. The massive room was filled with bookshelves curving around the entire room from floor to ceiling. In the center of the room was a winding black metal staircase that led up to the levels above. Climbing up to the second level it resembled the Surrey Library. It had sitting areas, a desk and chairs and more bookshelves wrapped around the entire room.

"Brilliant!" Harry climbed back down the stair case to the main floor. Without thinking he began catching the books and sorting them by section, fiction, non fiction, reference books, mystery, adventure, comedy so on and so on. This moved swiftly as Harry did not have to physically move them around. He decided the order and the books followed.

Sunlight began to creep through the windows on the upper floors. He realized it was nearly morning. Hesitantly Harry exited the main room as he stepped through the black glass doors they began to close, once together the crack began to seal from the bottom up.

As Harry began to slowly exit his mind he was pulled out with force. When his eyes opened he realized he was being pulled by his collar out of his cupboard.

"Think you can just sleep late, BOY! Get in that kitchen and make breakfast," yelled his Uncle as he hit Harry in the back of the head.

"There will be no going out today you lazy freak."

Hurriedly he entered the kitchen and pulled out the necessaries to prepare the morning meal. Sitting at the table was Dudley with his usual piggish smirk to remind Harry of his intentions. Dudley cracked his knuckles and laid his fist on top of the table. Exhausted Harry prepared breakfast, tended to the dishes and busied himself with the rest of his daily chores.

Early that afternoon he started for the garden. He headed to the shed to retrieve the gardening tools. As he reached to open the door he was knocked down from behind. Relentlessly Dudley pounded him from behind.

"Freak, I'll show you. Make me wait for my meal." Looking up trying to find a way to escape he noticed his Aunt watching from the kitchen window. Glee filled her face. Harry knew she would make no attempt to stop Dudley. Eventually Dudley's stout physique tired him and he relented.

"Stop lying around boy and get the gardening done," his Aunt's voice came from the kitchen window.

Harry rose from the ground battered and bruised but nothing was broken. He knew it would heal soon. Noon meal would consist of a slice of bread and cheese. He was ordered back to his cupboard immediately after. For the first time in weeks he heard the cupboard lock behind him. Harry lay down on his mattress and was soon asleep.

When Harry awoke it was early the next morning. The cupboard being locked meant he would have a few days to sort through his new library. Entering his mind and new library Harry looked around the room, he could see the books he had read and had yet to organize. He also saw the memories of his parents that he had held onto so desperately. The memories he wished to discard, his time with the Dursley's, in class, the playground at school. Harry did not want these memories to be together. He thought to separate them. Organize them into their own albums and sections of the library. He placed memories of his parents into a beautiful green, like his mother's eyes, leather album. On the cover, there was a silhouette, of him and his parents. Other memories were sorted into memory categories, events, people, and places. Eventually, each memory found its place.

Harry was determined to learn more of his parents and of the magic. As he sorted his memories in his mind he looked for memories that had his father's study. He assumed that would be the best place to find information. He would scan thru memories with his father's study. He hoped to find open books or listen to conversations that took place there. He had several memories of his parents using their wands, but did not quite understand the words they spoke. He would study these memories dissecting them. Sorting all his memories was a timely process, but Harry noticed as he sorted his memories his head ached less and less. Summer ending Harry was able to have over half of his library sorted and organized.

School began again but this year was slightly different. Instead of rereading the stories in the school library he was able to select books from his new mental library. His school year passed quickly. Poor marks again and less attention from Dudley.

Every free moment he had, Harry spent in his library. Summer started and he had his library nearly complete. His library had grown to be even larger than the Surrey Library. He had filled many shelves but had plenty more shelves available for future books and albums. He learned that with his new library he could absorb more books, lectures, and even newspapers that his uncle left laying around for him to clean up. .

There was one particular memory that Harry wanted to handle with care, the night his parents were killed. He wanted to separate that memory from the rest. It was a memory that plagued his dreams. He placed this memory into a sturdy plain book. When Harry closed the book he was surprised to find an image of a snake stretched across the cover. This was not of Harry's doing. Harry placed this book on the highest shelf in the library. Mysteriously, each day when Harry returned to his library this book would appear next to him. He would place it back on its shelf and go back to sorting. He would sort the last memory and it would reappear next to him. He was starting to believe this was a memory he could not file away as well as a nightmare he could not escape. He climbed to the third floor of his library and found there were three separate doors. One door had a huge lock hanging from it. Harry closed the memory inside this room and shut the lock. Days passed and the book did not reappear. His sleep became more peaceful. The nightmare ceased to visit him each night.

Halloween night seven years ago Harry lost his parents. He lost his whole world that night. He did not know where Padfoot or Moony had gone. They were a constant in his infant life. He knew Padfoot as his godfather. "Why was I not placed with him?" He wondered if he had a godmother. "Where were they all now? Am I to continue to live with the abuse? Is there no escape?" "What of Moony?"

Many questions left unanswered, not one memory with a clue.

This year was to be the same as last, tending to his guardians every whim. The thrashings would continue only more intermittent. Another birthday comes and goes unnoticed even by Harry himself. Now, nine years old he was growing restlessly bored. He imagined there was so much more to learn about, to experience and see. He still would retreat to his mental library the only place he could find solace. He read his books, reviewed his memories and passed the time.

With school coming to an end once again and without the same excitement as summers past, Harry looked forward to his time in the Surrey Library. Harry was indifferent to his school work as usual but with less concentration on earning poor marks. Two weeks into summer Harry and Dudley's school reports were delivered to the house. Harry waited for the praise to be sung to his cousin. Instead Harry was faced with his Uncle's rage. Harry had without trying brought home outstanding marks. "You cheat! I will not stand for a cheat in my house!" Fear enveloped Harry. Like a rampaging elephant Uncle Vernon came at Harry. This time it would take Harry three days to recoup. After days of only his small daily rations, a glass of water, two slices of bread and a sliver of cheese Harry was too weak to stand or even venture to his mental library.

Weeks later Harry had his health back. He had lost the privilege of frequenting the Surrey Library and chores were increased. The afternoon of Harry's tenth birthday he was in the garden. Absentmindedly tending to the weeds when he realized he left his garden tool next to the shed. As he began to rise to retrieve it, suddenly it was floating in front of his face. Feeling he was alone Harry continued to pull weeds but an angry voice came from the kitchen "BOY! COME, NOW!"

Entering the kitchen door his uncle confronted him. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, FREAK, MAKING A TOOL FLY ACROSS THE YARD, and FOR ALL THE NEIGHBORS TO SEE?" Harry stared at his uncle.

Uncle Vernon's face was turning purple with anger. Harry had only seen him this angry once before and it did not end well for Harry. That enveloping fear was being called to the front of Harry's mind as he faced his Uncle Vernon.

"I AM GOING TO BEAT THE FREAK OUT OF YOU THIS TIME OR KILL YOU TRYING," Vernon bellowed. He charged toward Harry with his fists balled so tight his knuckles where turning white. In an attempt to protect himself Harry brought his hands up over his face palms out. Wishing his Uncle would just STOP.