Title: Truth behind the name and the lies
Fandom : HP
Notes: An abused boy finds out he's a wizard and a hero; his tormented mind rebels. One person sees through the misconceptions to the real Harry and treats him the way he deserves. Why Harry never fights back from personal attacks...why does he crave more? Because he isn't a hero, he isn't brave, he's hiding behind the shadow of the boy they all believe him to be. -yes I did rename the story. the title wasn't fitting...
"..." is spoken.
'...' is mind to mind communication.
"That scar on your head? Your drunk scumbag father carved it himself."
"Your father drove your mother off the road trying to punish her for leaving him. It's your fault she's dead."
"You're only here because Petunia didn't want to betray her sister's memory, as pathetic as Lily turned out to be. If it had been my choice we'd have sent you to an orphanage."
"Your parents never fought until you were born. Your father didn't drink until then. You are the reason she's dead."
These thoughts haunted five year old Harry Potter as he lay in the dark in the spider-infested cupboard under the stairs. He didn't remember his parents so he would never know if what his uncle said was true or not. He did know he was unwanted, that he had to earn his keep. If you don't work you don't eat was drilled into the tiny boy who was more the size of a three-year old than five. He knew if he woke to find the cupboard unlocked then he was to be up and making breakfast. He couldn't tell time but he knew he had to be up before the sun was or he would be beaten.
Uncle Vernon took great pleasure in putting him in his place. At five he had been belted, smacked around, starved, locked in the dark, screamed at, threatened and told terrible stories about his parents, how despite his only relatives' charity he was going to end up a no account bum like his father.
He tested the door: locked. He closed his eyes, it would be an interesting morning…
He woke when the padlock was undone and the door ripped open. Bright light streamed in and his uncle's huge bulk blocked the light that attempted to fill the dark cupboard.
"What are you doing lying abed? Where is breakfast? Some of us actually have to work you know."
Harry knew better then to mention he had been locked up. He scurried away dodging a kick from his uncle.
He could hear his portly cousin's mocking laughter as he went to pull a frying pan out and tugged his stool to the stove so he could put the pan on a burner. He pulled with all his might to open the icebox and pull out milk, sausages and eggs. He did it one at a time, finding a bowl after moving the stool so he could whip the eggs. The first time he'd been made to cook, he had been four; he'd whipped the eggs incorrectly and made a huge mess before breaking a bowl. The bowl was broken when Uncle Vernon hit him so hard he flew across the kitchen. He tried to hide a grimace at the memory; he'd broken his arm and still had to learn to cook. He did his best to fry up sausages and eggs, he made toast, lots of it, and coffee as well as putting on water for his Aunt Petunia's tea. He bit his lip as he went searching for the ingredients for Dudley's favorite: French Toast. He had to make them all happy or he would be punished.
"I don't want French Toast, Mummy. I want pancakes."
Harry stiffened, so much for that idea. He went to get the pancake mix.
"Whatever you want Diddly-kins."
Harry wished he had a mother but his was dead, killed by his drunken father if Uncle Vernon was to be believed.
He finished cooking and dished up breakfast…
Vernon glared, "It's cold. How hard is it to make a hot breakfast? No lunch and no dinner either. Go to your room."
Harry hadn't eaten since the day before yesterday, he said softly, "Yes Uncle." He had been disobedient, he deserved to be punished for not performing as he aught.
Three years later…
"You trying to embarrass me? How dare you have a better grade than Dudley! We take you in out of the goodness of our hearts, and you can't even show us a bit of gratitude."
Harry bit his lip, trying not to cry out as the belt came down again and again. Why hadn't he died in the car accident? Why did he have to be thrown free? What kind of a horrible baby had he been to deserve his father to kill his mother because he'd been born? What had he done to deserve his father slicing a lighting bolt on his forehead? He was been beaten for scoring well on a test, for proving he was good at anything. He would never try to achieve anything again. He was the son of a worthless drunk after all…he would never achieve anything anyway. He was from bad seed after all…
Harry felt a tear slide down his cheek. Why was he so bad? Why couldn't he be good? Why couldn't he please the only family he had? He was such a bad boy.
Draco Malfoy was born from two exceptionally talented pure-bloods. He had been taught at an early age all the things the heir to the prestigious bloodlines of Black and Malfoy ought to know. Destined for greatness, and therefore a son of the House of Slytherin, he was looking forward to Hogwarts.
With each year that passed he grew stronger. Born with a temper and exceptional magical skill, he would have an easy time achieving good marks, Prefect status and, hopefully, Head Boy. He was spoiled by his mother but his father didn't hesitate to punish him if he failed to achieve the level his father expected. He would be highly skilled in many subjects as well as Occumency and Legilimency, not to mention Dark Magic that, as the Malfoy heir, was his right and duty to learn. He would do well; he would exceed his father's expectations. No rumors of highly gifted babies who grow up after defeating the great and powerful Dark Lord were going to dissuade him from his future.
The world would be at his feet and that was no less than he deserved.
What do you think? Outstanding? Exceeds Expectations? Acceptable? Poor? Dreadful? Troll?