Light in the Order of Souls
Hope for the Spirit of the Lost
He lay curled up, whimpering in his only space, but even there he feels trapped, bewildered and angry and sad. He couldn't help but hold in that hopeless wave of what; he doesn't know. He doesn't know what he could have done wrong, or what his parents had done.
Though, he knows his family lie about his mother and father, just one look and he can see through them to the things underneath. It's like looking in the face of hate, jealousy, and anger if these feelings were given substance.
He doesn't know why he was left here of all places, why his mother or father would wish this on him, or anyone for that matter. He's always hungry, and always feeling sick, not that he has enough in him to be sick. His skin is pale enough that he could be mistaken for a vampire if in fact vampires were to exist.
However, thinking about the 'odd' is strictly forbidden in this house, which just made the raven haired Harry James Potter feel validated that weird things are real. He knows weird things are real because he can do them.
He can see right passed the lies whether in a person or object to the truth hidden, buried beneath. Then the whole levitating stuff thing with just a simple look... well, it's a simple look now but it took him some time to figure it out. He had noticed the odd things his uncle beat him for, and tried to replicate them.
It's stupid thinking about all the times his uncle had beat him for these, 'odd' happenings when it became obvious that they responded best to need, especially defensive need. So, Harry being smart realised that if he ever wants to escape, and gain his freedom he has to learn to use these powers.
Harry has been tormented and tortured every day since he can remember being here. His Uncle Vernon just loves to take out his anger on Harry with a belt. It didn't help that Harry heals so fast that within hours any real damage is gone, but healing so much, so fast seems to have some negative side effects too.
Then his Aunt Petunia; his mothers older sister, though doesn't hit him much goes out of her way to be vindictive and cruel to him. It's so petty and full of jealousy. It isn't too hard to see that the jealousy has something to do with his freakishness. This leads him to realise that his mother and father, being 'freaks' too means that they must have had powers too, which means there might be others.
If there are others like him then why would they just leave him here? They should want to protect their own, shouldn't they? He doesn't know or understand.
However, what Harry finds worse is having to dumb down at school because of his Cousin Dudley Dursley. It's not just dumbing down or suffering a beating for 'cheating', but DUMBING down! How one elephant boy can be that stupid Harry may never know?
It's always seemed odd that his school doesn't notice anything wrong. Heck, he can't even walk very far he's so fragile from lack of food, and moves with a slight stagger even though because of all his 'chores/punishments' his body has muscle, but it's more like a super lean, skinny muscles because of lack of anything, muscle lacking the energy.
Harry doesn't cry anymore, or show much in the way of real emotions; he needs them controlled to some degree. Control allows him to block off the pain, to have power over his own mind, and more, control of his emotions is a deeper control of his powers.
If he controls his powers, someday soon he'll escape. He can't stand these people any longer. He hates these people, and he hates this house and the neighbours and just everything about this life. He's certain somewhere, somewhere he can find something good, nice, maybe a friend who will look out for him and he can look out for in return.
His eyes peeled open, near alight, glowing emeralds. He was just wearing some too big blue shorts held up by a piece of string and a torn up filthy white tee shirt. He wondered how the teachers at school think he's a troublemaker, believing the Dursley's when they dress him in rags.
He could feel the bruises on his body healing as he lay on the stinky blood and sweat soaked thin mattress on the floor of the tiny locked cupboard without any blankets to keep him warm at night. He was always caked in his dried blood somewhere, but now he had some coating his face around his left eye as the cut and swelling faded.
Suddenly he stiffened as he saw a large shadow pass by his door. "Petunia!" his uncle said loudly from the other side; his gruff voice echoing. It hadn't been long since he had re-broken Harry as he calls it since he self-repairs in just hours.
"Yes dear!" she replied as she came out into the hall just outside Harry's door. He held his breath, listening because this didn't sound too good.
"I've had enough of these god dammed freaky letters!" Vernon boomed angrily.
Oh yes, the letters, Harry grimaced. The letter's from nobody to nobody; with the owls outside during broad daylight too. They had started arriving just a few days ago and won't stop, which means Harry gets a beating as if it's his fault with each letter found in odd places around the house.
He's not stupid; he realised these letters must be from his people because it seems only they could address a letter to a child under the stairs and not think anything of it. No, instead they just continue sending them, lavishing in Harry's pain because of them, obviously, or they're really that stupid.
"We should get rid of the little freak before any of them turn up here!" Vernon continued, and Harry worried what he meant by 'get rid of'. Does he mean dump somewhere or kill; he wouldn't put either passed them.
His aunt seemed to be thinking for a moment before replying. "But where and how, what about them?" she asked worried for them, not Harry.
"We didn't ask for the freak!" he said heatedly. "If they haven't just come and taken it then we'll just take it far enough away that it won't find its way back; then who cares!"
The cupboard door pulled hard open blinding Harry with light. He put his hands over his eyes to protect them, and felt a beefy hand grab his ankle, he screeched as he was-pulled from the safety of his cupboard.
"Shut up!" the whale of a man bellowed pulling him into the hall, throwing him into the wall. It cracked under the pressure as he hit it, falling to the ground he felt the world blurring around him. Then with one back hand to the head Harry slid down the wall, eyes fluttering closed and passed out.
Harry was shivering; cold on a soggy mush of dirty grass when he woke with a start, looking to his lap he startled the small badger as it was crawling over him. He flinched as he heard its hiss before his eyes lit up with a fuzz of gold light and the creature was lifted by an invisible grip and tossed away from him.
The furry 'monster' landed, rolling to his feet and seemed to glare at Harry before running off into the thick foliage of the trees. He looked around, worried after he made sure he wasn't going to be eaten by wild animals.
He had been dumped behind some bushes in a huge woodland area, the other side of which is a deserted road with more woodland the other side of that. He frowned, sitting up straight before he stood to his bare feet, tightening the string holding up his shorts.
Harry doesn't know where he is or what he's going to do. He felt lost, drained and most of all hungry. If it weren't for his strange power he wouldn't be able to see anything. It was natural to see in the dark since he spent so much time in the dark; locked in his cupboard.
Standing he shook his head clear of the fuzzy feeling he sometimes gets when standing up too quick after going so long without food. He knows he'll have to fend for himself now he's been thrown away like trash.
However, though he knows that people can hunt and kill something for dinner, how does he do that? Could he really use his powers to kill something to eat? He doubts he could, but then he also knows that meat doesn't sit right with him. He's not sure why but it seems more that his body isn't used to it like it should be or something.
He looked around, towards the bush. It had some kind of black coloured berries on it. He just blew caution to the wind; after all he had been force fed bleach before, and though violently sick it didn't kill him. Therefore he plucked up a berry and looked it over before popping it into his mouth, chewing.
His eyes widened as the flavour burst on his tongue. It was sweet and juicy and before he realised he was plucking more off, letting the juicy berries tantalise his taste buds. He finished up, eating his fill, licking his purpled lips clean of the juice.
It was only after he had eaten that he took better stock of his situation, and the thought of worry was top on his list of things to do. He's ten, nearly eleven, or he might be eleven; he's not too sure what day it is, the summer holidays do that to him. He can honestly admit he was feeling the odd mix of elation and fear.
He had dreamed of being alone, no more Dursley's, but those dreams always had someone coming to his rescue and saving him; then going to live with a nice person who will look after him.
However, he doesn't know what would happen if he found someone. What if the police came and took him back to the Dursley's? Nobody else cared about how they treat him so why would the law be any different?
Taking in a deep breath of fresh, clear and fool free air he couldn't help but smile a little. He didn't know where to go but just started walking anyway, deeper into the woodland away from the road, looking to see whether he can find a place to wait for the sun to come up where he might be safe.
It wasn't long before he found a large tree next to a large pond and settled down at the tree base feeling tired he drifted off almost instantly. He yawned and pealed his eyes open sometime later as the bright sun pushed down through the foliage of the trees above, waking him.
However, he blinked several times in surprise as he looked to see a young girl watching him closely. She has bright red hair, like flames, alight with crimsons and scarlet's hanging down, tied back at her waist. She's a slender girl with very pale, milky skin, but not unhealthy like his. She has some freckles on and over her nose and cheeks with big brown eyes full of wonder.
Looking her over, she was wearing an old blue summer dress, hanging just above her knees and fitting her well. She has a soft and gentle expression as she was hunched down on the heels of her sandals with bare little feet and glitter painted toe and finger nails.
He had never seen someone shine so radiant. Sure, kids tent to all be bright... well with the exception of a few who have already learnt to enjoy their own cruelty. However, he hadn't seen a girl so radiant, so bright and beautiful, honest and caring. She was an amazing sight inside and out; she made him feel warm and comfortable.
"Hello!" she said suddenly making him jump, popping the O with a wide smile. "What are you doing sleeping outside silly, and wow, I thought my big brother Bill had long hair, yours is down your back! That is so cool, what's your name? My names Ginny, well Ginevra, but everyone calls me Ginny!"
"Oh, umm... I-I'm Harry," he replied, scooting up to sit on his knees, level with her since he isn't much taller. He tried to neaten his mass of raven black hair; his aunts' greatest annoyance as it was like his hair wanted to rebel against her and being cut, hanging over his shoulders, over halfway down his back, wild and untamed.
She nodded, giggling happily. "Wow, you're really dirty and kind of smell real bad," she said crinkling her nose cutely but didn't wait for a response as she continued. "So why are you sleeping outside?" she asked, looking around, further confused. "Where's your mummy and daddy?" she asked, curious and concerned.
Harry looked down at his knees in thought. "Well, they're dead," he answered shocking her. "They died years ago though so I don't remember them. My aunt and uncle said they were drunks and died in a car crash, but I don't believe them. My uncle finally got rid of me and dumped me in the woods, but I'm OK I'll be fine here!"
Her happy smile faded right away and she fell back onto her butt without accidently flashing him, though for all she knows she did but he hadn't looked like she heard naughty boys would. She liked that; or did she, maybe he just missed his chance, now she's confused as she sat up babbling in her head; she internally shrugged, glad he hadn't caught her babbling; that would have been embarrassing.
"You can't stay here Harry," she said placing on a hopeful smile. "I know, you can come home with me and stay. All of my annoying brothers have gone to Hogwarts already so it's just me, mum and dad, but dad works lots so it's me and mum most of the time. We'll be the best of friends!"
"What's a Hogwarts?" he asked after a few moments of deep, wondering thought.
"It's a school silly," she retorted rolling her eyes. "We go to Hogwarts to learn how to do magic...!" she said, startling him before trailing off with her hands over her mouth. "Oh no, I'm not supposed to tell muggles!" she said, worried.
"Muggles?" he asked, befuddled by this strange yet refreshing girl.
She nodded her head. "It's what we call non-magical people!" she answered, looking even more worried.
"Oh, so I'm magical!" he muttered to himself with a small smile. "I'm a mystic or something," he said happy, confusing Ginny. "Watch this, I can do real magic," he said and she started as his eyes lit up and loads of small pebbles and sticks around them lifted from the ground for a few moments before dropping.
"Whoa!" she declared, mouth hanging open. "How did you do that? I can't do that, we normally need wands, so only really powerful wizards can use wandless magic."
"Wandless magic?" he asked, confused and doubtful. "I know what wands are to normal people," he said, shaking his head. "People made them, so, why would anything be called wandless? Magic had to have come first, silly. I figured out how to do it because weird things kept happening, like I can heal at super speeds and sometimes odd things happened when my uncle... umm... well, it's all about how you feel. Different feelings can do different things when you will it, so you just have to remember how to... feel and make yourself feel those things and presto, with enough practice you can do all sorts of awesome stuff."
"Wow, that is so cool!" she said, dreamy eyed. "Can you teach me to do cool things too?" she asked hopefully. "I heard words, like spells have power; maybe using spells will be even more awesome!"
Harry chuckled, nervous. "Umm... OK I'll teach you... it will be... nice!"
"Come on then Harry, I've got to take you home," she said, smiling as she hopped up to her feet and offered her hand.
Harry hesitated to reach out but couldn't help but feel relaxed at her sweet smile and returned it. He reached out and she helped him stand, but kept his hand, worried when he staggered.
However, she held his hand as tight as she dare; pulling him away from the tree and pond where he would come across a wonky house with several crocked chimneys that looked like it was held up by magic and probably was.
Light in the Spirit Eyes Light in the Spirit Eyes
It was the thirty first of July, hundreds of miles away from where Harry and Ginny moved towards the odd house, and a great, powerful destiny neither could foretell.
It was in a large circular office stacked with all sorts of odd things even the ancient old man sitting at the desk didn't know what they do.
There are many moving paintings on the wall, pretending to sleep since they don't really need to sleep. The old man, Albus Dumbledore still doesn't know why they do it, but shrugged that off as he looked to his phoenix companion as the beautiful, crimson coloured swan sized bird stood on his golden perch.
He has many shelves full of books and even a huge bronze coloured telescope looking out of a huge gap in the ceiling, warded against the weather. The aged wizard wore some deep purple robes with gold and silver moons and stars embroidered on it.
Now, normally Albus's crystal blue eyes would twinkle in some kind of merriment, but for once he was cool, nearly cold as he felt that chill run down his spine. He had regretted many things in his life, and leaving a certain child with his muggle family was one of those many regrets, but he convinced himself that they would treat him well and that it was the best for the boy.
He had avoided looking into the boys' welfare because he had been stupid enough to convince himself that he didn't need to, but now. The Dursley's were just ignoring Harry's invitations to Hogwarts. Though, now the letters have started coming back, having not been able to locate the boy.
Albus had looked to his monitors of the wards around Harry Potter's 'home' and was alarmed. The wards hadn't been functioning properly for years, and just yesterday they collapsed, which is a sign that Harry no longer lived there, either because he had renounced the 'home' or the Dursley's had thrown him out or worse; he shuddered with rakings of guilt.
In addition to that, he felt sick looking back at the recorded readings, wishing he hadn't been so trusting. The house has been reeking of healing mana for years. He would never expect so much from accidental magic. The healing magic may have engrained itself into Harry by now that it reacts instinctively.
Albus stood, and Fawkes, his phoenix companion didn't even need calling as he flew up majestically and landed on the old man's shoulder, clipping his head with his wing as if to reprimand him. Then in a blast of flames they disappeared to reappear on a sunny muggle street.
He has to find the Boy-Who-Lived, not just for his sake, but the sake of the boy, to make things right, or as right as he can. Albus had to take several calming breaths as his eyes locked with number four over his half moon spectacles. He can't afford to get angry and do something he may regret in the future; he has too many regrets as it is.
Walking straight over, he knocked on the door, loudly, with absolute purpose. He didn't wait long as a huge, beefy man answered the door; the huge man looking tired and jumpy looked to him and immediately paled.
"Where is Harry Potter?!" he demanded, holding in his anger, but still a projection of strength was easy; it is like the twinkle eye trick he's got. It really isn't a projection of power like everyone seems to think. If he were to project his power he would literally have sparks flying off him, as well as weird things happening around him.
"I-I don't know who you're talking about!" the whale of a human retorted, nervous, sweat dripping from his brow. "Now, if you'll excuse me sir, I've been up all night and I'm tired!" he added, trying to hide his fear as he went to slam the door closed.
However, old man or not; Albus seemed to leak strength and managed to push the door, knocking the fat man back with some bursts of real strength projection. Vernon Dursley staggered back as he felt weak in the knees, terrified.
The old man entered the house without a care that he's breaking the law and forcing his way into someone else's home; magical and muggle. However, he didn't care and pushed his way in, glaring at the man, which caused him to stagger back into the wall by the door.
Albus looked around in even more concern. Just from his first look around the hall it was like only one child had ever lived here, a fat one that reminded him of Vernon Dursley. There are photos all over showing how spoilt their own child is.
However, he was about to go up the stairs to see the possible conditions Harry had been forced to live when he paused. Fawkes made a note, his beak pointing towards the closet under the stairs. He felt sick, and it pained him to walk over, but he did, pulling the door open and trying not to think about how he almost missed all of the bolts and locks on the door.
He almost heaved up his breakfast and last night's tea at the smell of blood and decay and other nasty things he really doesn't want to think about. The smell was so bad he found it unnerving that the Dursley's neighbours haven't noticed and called someone to complain, but then with the amount of cleaning product in the air it's hard to smell it once he pulled back enough.
Albus dared look inside the tiny confines to see blood soaked rags and folded up blankets in one corner, furthest from the door. There were no clothes, no toys, no, nothing but a bad taste in the air.
The old headmaster turned abruptly as the fat brute, Dursley was trying to sneak away, out the front door. "Where is Harry Potter!" he demanded so venomously that he wouldn't have been surprised if he made that rumour about Voldemort fearing him true.
The disgrace of humanity turned, shaking and it didn't take but a few moments for him to spill the location where he dumped him. He frowned at that, knowing the location enough to know some allies live in that area. He'll have to go over to their home to organise a search party, Merlin only knows what could happen to the boy all alone.
He nodded to himself before stunning the fat... thing and then using the muggle telephone, contrary to popular belief; he thinks they're ingenious inventions that magical people should have and use. They do save a lot of time, and get messages across without having to stick your head in a fire.
Therefore, he called the police posing as a concerned citizen about Harry 'disappearing'. He knows they'll realise he made the call from in the Dursley's house, but also that if he leaves the door open where Vernon had been, hurt, the police will then have just cause to enter the home, and presto, it won't take Sherlock Homes to work this one out.
He mildly wondered where Petunia had gone, but it didn't really matter; the police should get her too. Then with a little evidence here and there, (he loath to cheat but without it they might weasel out of too much trouble).
Half smiling at a job well done, he left the house and disappeared. He felt it would be a good idea to quickly grab his schools nurse, encase Harry needs immediate attention. He just hopes he doesn't need too much help on that front, and that anything he does need sorts him out and helps him.
It already seems that if Harry is found and goddess, hope he is, that he probably won't be attending school this year. He could, he supposes, but it would probably be best if he isn't around that many people while he's been through too much. He'll need some time to heal, and he hopes Molly will take him in, though he's sure she will.
Yes, he's certain that kind of family will be good for Harry, not perfect, but not full of hate or coldness like some families he feels sorry for.
If only he could go back far enough to fix all of his mistakes. However, possible, probable he supposes, plausible, no. He'll just have to spend what remains of his life making up for his foolishness.
To Be Continued...