Chapter Text
Harry was going through what people called a rebellious faze in life. He was 6 when this sudden urge to go against the rules hit him and it changed his outlook on life. As long as the Dursleys weren’t there to see it he didn’t have to do anything anyone had told him to.
The rules that were set up around the house suddenly didn’t need to be followed. Eating? He could do whenever he wanted to. Sleeping? Whenever. Sitting? Whenever. Going outside? Whenever. He enjoyed his freedom of the bare minimum whenever Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren’t around and had left him alone in the house to clean. He would go into the pantry and eat, sit on the carpet in the living room and take a nap and cleaning the house was easy and could be done in under 30 minutes. Despite what was believed, the house was not as dirty as the Dursleys made it out to be.
Those were the nice days though. Dudley would go to school, Uncle Vernon would go to work and Aunt Petunia would visit friends. Harry was simply delighted. He did his favorite thing and laid on the carpet and closed his eyes.
He liked looking at the light through his closed eyelids or rubbing his eyes so hard that he saw stars and shapes. It was a good pass time in a world where he had never really gotten to do what he wanted.
After a while he got bored though and sat up. The house could only get so enjoyable. He made a small huffing noise and got to his feet, walking towards the door. He would go for a walk!
When he opened the door it was slightly chilly but he didn’t have a jacket. They had taken all his beckets away because apparently he was being selfish with how many clothes he had. Harry was always being selfish for some reason and he could never pinpoint why.
He walked down the street, looking at passing cars and passing people. They smiled at him and said hello and he said hello back.
The people outside was the first hint to Harry that something wasn’t right in the house on Privet Drive. Adults outside smiled at Harry, never sneered, never glared or yelled at him for just standing there. It was an odd first experience when he was thrown out of the house a year ago and just stood there looking dejected when suddenly a woman came up worried.
She knelt down and was talking softly and sweetly and Harry just stood there extremely confused. When other people passed by they gave him odd looks but they weren’t ones of disdain or extreme judgement. They looked like the ones that Aunt Petunia would give Dudley before he began to cry. The one that instantly became painted on her face before she exclaimed, “oh Dudikins! Are you ok sweety?!”
Needless to say Harry liked being outside and seeing something different. Sometimes when he stood at the bus stop people would actually talk to him! It was an exciting experience for him because he felt like he was being treated nicely.
The sun wasn’t shining that day but Harry continued down the road and into town. He looked around at the shops and liked looking through the windows and imagining if he could have the toys that Dudley had.
It was his fault, he could admit it, but as he walked down the street he bumped into someone. He hit a tall lanky man and he stumbled a bit. Harry however fell back onto his butt. He was very weak considering he only ate about one meal a day. The man turned around, brow furrowed slightly and looked down at him. Harry sat there for a moment, embarrassed and dazed. He looked up and he could tell his face exposed what he thought.
This man looked like a freak.
He was tall, lanky and pale, like he spent his days in a dungeon somewhere. He had overgrown black stringy hair and a hooked nose. And the clothes he was wearing matched his whole dungeon demeanor, with a black button up and black dress pants.
Harry could only imagine how he looked but he was sure it was better than this weirdo.
The weirdest fact about it was how surprised the man looked. It played out like this: the man turned around, looked down, his brow furrowed, then they raised up in surprise and then he just looked sad, which he quickly covered up with indifference.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, looking away.
Harry stood up and brushed himself off. “I’m sorry, that was my bad.”
The man raised an eyebrow and Harry felt judged. He hated this. That look was supposed to stay inside his house, not out here in the world.
“Yes, it was ‘your bad’.”
Harry frowned and scraped his foot against the pavement. He walked past the man and made sure that he used his new rebellious spirit against him. “Maybe watch where you’re going, weirdo,” he muttered, and then instantly began to sprint down the road.
He could feel those eyes on him and he was scared for a moment that the man would go after him and grab him by the hair like Uncle Vernon liked to do. It was scary and also upsetting, he thought as he ran. He turned a corner and stopped running, slowing down to a reasonable pace. He came across another person and for some reason he felt as if this one and the other man were connected.
She was about the same height as Aunt Petunia and wearing a dark green dress with spectacles. Her hair was graying but she seemed like a very kind person. The same expression of surprise and knowing came across her face as he passed by.
He made it back to the Dursleys without getting caught and kicked his shoes off before shoving them back into the cupboard. Then he sat back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. That was the first time he had experienced something bad outside of his house and he didn’t like it. It made him angry. We’re all people like his Uncle and Aunt? Were they just hiding it like they hid it when Uncle Vernon had people over for dinner?
He opened his eyes and glared at the wall. Were people just bad?
The day went by slowly. Harry hid himself when Aunt Petunia came back, Dudley came back a little bit after that and then Uncle Vernon slammed open the door. What a family.
Harry was making dinner for all of them, standing up on a footstool to reach the stove when the doorbell rang. He didn’t take any notice of it, usually it would be one of Dudley’s friends or a neighbor. They never stayed or actually made their way into the kitchen.
He heard Uncle Vernon get up from his chair in the living room and make his way to the door. There was a long pause when the door opened and then a sigh.
“Is it really that time of the year?” He grumbled.
“I’m afraid so,” a woman’s voice answered.
Harry frowned and looked up from the pot of soup he was stirring. He had never heard that voice before.
“HARRY!” His Uncle yelled.
Harry’s stomach dropped and his face went pale. At first he didn’t move from his spot out of shock but then he scribbled off the stool, turning the heat down to a simmer. He ran into the hallway, pushing his broken glasses farther up his nose. He stood there in his baggy shirt, baggy jeans, and Aunt Petunia's apron that she never wore
To his surprise it was the two people from town!
His face twisted in discomfort and he shifted his weight back and forth. The tall man was staring at him, his eyes narrowed and judgmental. Harry looked at the ground.
“Yes Uncle Vernon?”
He looked behind him and his eyes were deathly cold. “These people are here to see you.”
Harry’s blood ran cold. Were they going to tell Uncle Vernon that he was outside? Were they going to tell him that Harry was rude to them? It was the only possible explanation.
“Harry?” The woman asked, her voice soft.
He looked up.
“Come here into the living room. We’re just doing a checkup.”
His brow pinched together and he slowly walked up to them, trying to stay as far away from Uncle Vernon as he could. The man had this disturbing look in his eye, like Harry was really gonna get it once these people left.
The woman gestured for him to sit down on one of the nice sofas that he didn’t even sit on when the Dursleys were gone. He hesitated and then sat at the very edge, very aware of how dirty his jeans were.
“Now Harry, do you remember the last time we visited? You might not, we do these check ups every two years when a wizard is growing up.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “A wizard?”
The room paused and the man spoke up. “Yes Harry, a wizard.”
It was enough to make him laugh. He smiled a little bit, confused and not believing a word they were saying at all. “You’re doing a check up on me because I’m a wizard?” He chuckled.
The two frowned.
“Yes Harry, you’re a wizard,” the lady said slowly. “You do know that don’t you?”
Harry looked between the two and then toward the entrance for help. This was absurd. Wizards belonged on TV and even then the Dursleys hated whenever it came on the Telly. He looked back at them. He hesitated in saying this but it slipped out from his lips and he felt a bit proud of saying it out loud.
“Are you two crazy?”
The man sighed and pulled out a wand. “Minerva, begin the checkup. It’s obvious he’s playing around with us and I am not in the mood.”
Harry and the man made eye contact and he instantly knew that he hated the weird man, sitting on the couch in front of him. Minerva pulled out her own wand and pointed it towards Harry.
“We’re going to be checking your internal magic, the type that goes off without a wand. It is the thing inside of you that makes you a wizard. We simply need to do a checkup to see if it is damaged or repressed. If so we can help it no problem, it might take a while though.” She then focused her gaze on Harry and muttered something underneath her breath.
For a moment Harry didn’t feel anything and then he felt a burning sensation in his stomach. It started off low and like his insides were heating up slowly. It then became a stabbing pain and he winced, a hand going to his stomach, instinctively. And then it hit him, all of the sudden it flared into feeling like there was something ripping its way out of his stomach. He cried out and doubled over holding his stomach. Tears flooded his vision and he dropped off from the couch to the floor, gasping for air. It hurts, it hurts, “it hurts!” He cried out.
Instantly it stopped. The two were up on their feet and the Dursleys were suddenly in the entrance, trying to see what was happening.
A hand was gently placed on Harry’s shoulder and he flinched further into himself. “Stay away!” He yelled, squeezing his eyes shut. It was still painful, it was still burning and stabbing. He gasped for air, continuing to hold his stomach.
The man was up on his feet and instantly headed towards Uncle Vernon, beckoning them into the kitchen. The lady grabbed her wand and muttered something else as Harry tried to shield himself from it.
“It’s ok Harry, it’s ok, we’re going to help you. It’s going to be ok.”
The words felt far away, muffled by the banging in his head, the sudden headache that formed when the pain formed.
But all of the sudden a warmth was spreading all throughout his body and calming the burning and ripping feeling in his stomach. Her voice was soft as she brushed the hair away from his face and tried to comfort him. He whimpered slightly and pressed his face into the carpet, curling in on himself.
He needed everyone to leave him alone. He wanted to be in the cupboard, in the darkness, all eyes away from him. He hated this and he hated the lady who continued to run her fingers along his hair to try and soothe him. The only problem was that it was soothing and he was beginning to calm down as the warmth settled into his bones and his eyes closed.
It was a slow come to, when she lifted him onto the couch and put a pillow underneath his head and then went into the kitchen. Harry didn’t have the strength to move or open his eyes, to try and follow what she was doing. There were low whispers coming from the kitchen that he tried to listen to but he couldn’t hear. It was the man.
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“Why, in Merlin’s name, did that happen?” Snape questioned, sounding extremely worried. “That should never happen. Children might feel discomfort in it but that rarely ever happens even then! So why did that child fall to the floor because of the extreme pain he was feeling?”
The Dursleys were all huddled in a corner, Uncle Vernon in front of them all and he looked the most terrified. His face was red, beginning to purple on his cheeks and his beady eyes were wide.
“How should we know, we’re not bloody wizards!” He shot back.
“I should have expected as much from muggles,” Snape growled.
Minerva stepped into the room. Her lips were pursed and she was standing rigid. Her face was pale and she looked bothered. “In all my years of doing checkups on children that has never occurred. We will need to get him away from this environment, out of whatever is causing him this much repression of his magic and inspections will be done on the house.”
Vernon’s eyes widened. “Now wait a minute-“
“Excuse me, Mr. Dursley, but you have little say in this. Even though you are his guardian-“
“That’s not what I’m going to say. Take the boy, sod whatever, but this is my house! I will not have some freaks coming in and out of my house to see if something’s wrong with it!”
Minerva and Severus paused and exchanged eye contact and then looked back at him with derision.
“So be it. We will pick up Harry tomorrow,” Minerva answered. She turned swiftly and Snape followed. They paused to look at Harry asleep on the couch and she felt so much guilt that she had to look away. Snape took a simple glance and left the house.
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Once the two were gone Uncle Vernon instantly headed for Harry. He saw him on the couch and a wave of anger crashed over him. He thundered towards the sleeping boy and grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him easily. Harry didn’t wake up. The cupboard door was swiftly opened and he was thrown inside, his back and shoulder hitting the wall at a weird angle. Then the cupboard was shut and locked.
When Harry did wake up a couple hours later he wasn’t surprised by the pain he felt and the darkness that surrounded him.
His face was pressed into his ratty pillow when one of his eyes opened slowly and bleakly. It was completely dark and musty, giving away where he was right away. He was in the cupboard. Why his shoulder and back hurt he couldn’t really tell why. His arm was twisted in an odd way that was making it ache. He pulled his arm closer and cradled it. It wasn’t broken, something was just wrong with it.
Something that would never get checked out or taken care of because Harry didn’t get to be taken care of. Though his arm was the least of his worries.
Something had happened that he couldn’t explain. For a moment he thought it wasn’t a dream but he still felt that warm comforting feeling that the lady had left behind.
He sat up, using his good arm and tried to think about what had happened. It felt like magic, an awful magic that tried to kill him but he couldn’t explain it as anything else. What he knew for sure too was that Uncle Vernon was not happy. From the way that he woke up that much was obvious.
He wondered what would happen now. He suddenly didn’t feel so rebellious and like he had any control over his life.