The Rise of Harry Potter

Some small part of Harry had been hoping, that perhaps Vernon Dursley would return and take him back. Or even his parents. Harry hoped that they would at least check in on him, then, finding him no longer at the Dursleys', that they would come to take him home.

But it had been over a year and a half.

Lutain had gone silent, his damaged scales still remaining with a slight kink near the tip of his tail. The snake was now Harry's only decent conversation and rather skilled at it with Harry's constant teachings.

"They're not coming back, are they Lutain?" Harry asked, idly watching the melting snow.

The snake tightened around his wrist for a brief second, but never spoke.

The days were warmer. Behind him he heard the quiet chorus of young children shouting and playing. A slight breeze tugged at the dead grass and new tufts of spring foliage.

Harry closed his eyes. Like the spring breeze, he left himself relax. And he let himself go.

"They're not going to come back," Harry repeated to himself, more firmly this time, more decisively. It carried assurance that was often associated with speaking orders. "So I'll give them something to miss."

"Like what, Master?" Lutain asked, peering out and slowly sliding out of Harry's sleeve and onto his lap.

"I'll be turning ten near the start of August. On magical children's eleventh birthday, they're given a letter of enrollment for the school Hogwarts. Which means, we have little over a year and a half to learn as many spells in that book as possible," Harry said.

"Why learn them?" Lutain inquired, "Already can magic heat."

"Wizards know more than just that. I need to learn a few more. Enough that I can do some things that Skylar can't-"

"Master." Lutain interjected, voice quiet and sounding defeated, "I thought you let your birth-kin go?"

Harry felt the instinct to argue rise, but he held it back. Was he still holding on to Lily and James?

Of course he was, that small, dark voice whispered. He was still desperately trying to prove to them that he was worth something. Or maybe he was trying to prove it to himself? He'd been abandoned, cast aside so easily, and every minute of every day that passed was just a little bit more proof of his value to them.

"What would you have me do, Lutain?" Harry sighed, hanging his head and eying a dandelion struggling to sprout. "What does the mighty snake say I should do?"

Lutain flicked his tongue and scented the air.

"Make new kin?" Lutain offered, "Hatchling of own?"

"Lutain!" Harry guffawed, trying to resist the sudden urge to laugh, "I'm not old enough for that!"

"All humans look same. Tall and scaleless."

"All snakes look wriggly and hairless."

"Toushes."

Harry paused, trying to figure out what Lutain had obviously mispronounced. "...Toushes?"

Lutain nodded, agreeing with his word choice in a distinctly human manner. "Toushes."

Harry found himself laughing and was ever so thankful for his reptilian companion. He found out several days later that the word Lutain had remembered wrong was actually touché.

Spring hormonal changes and puberty led to a rise in the testosterone and tension in the building.

Harry had finally relaxed, finding peace in his recent epiphany. Then, his trunk had been set on fire.

Thankfully the seal was magical and impossible to open, that didn't stop the latches and magical lock from being smashed and damaged beyond use. It would require a spell to unlock the trunk in the state it was now. Harry could have done so, he knew his book detailed a powerful unlocking spell.

Except his book was trapped inside the chest.

He was fueled in a sudden bloodlust, knowing full well that David had attempted arson. The older boy constantly yawned or found excuse to flash his uncovered burn directly in Harry's line of sight, staring at him in a silent challenge. 'Come on, you know you want to.'

Harry did want to, that was the problem.

Even Suzie had somehow managed to convince her friends and others to rile Harry. Most of the children at the orphanage was well aware of the viciousness between Harry and David. They'd heard the rumors: David had somehow given Harry the scar on his side (which an older boy had seen while stealing Harry's comb one morning), while Harry had returned the favour with the scar on David's hand. One rumor went into depth with how Harry had somehow schemed with a now fired cook to press a burning spatula into David's sleeping palm.

Things had been too quiet, plenty of children had entered the orphanage after Christmas and too many were frothing at the mouth for some sort of action.

It was just bad luck that the straw that broke the camel's back happened to fall the day two well dressed men visited with the intentions of viewing the children.

Harry was outside (like he always preferred to the stuffy quiet of his room) with Lutain.

David approached, a small mob of wide eyed eager children following a short distance behind. Harry sighed, flexing his arm to signal that Lutain should stay quiet.

"What do you want?" Harry sighed, looking as disinterested as possible as the crowd shifted and formed a half ring around them.

....

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