Harry Potter, son of the big three: The invisible boy beneath the mask

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

At number 4 privet drive, Harry sat up gasping for air. His ribs hurt and his head was pounding. His face was covered in sweat as he clutched his small blanket and sat on his worn out and uncomfortable mattress. He tried to calm his breathing down but when that didn't work he slowly pulled his book about Greek myths out from under the bed. Opening it up, he traced the familiar words softly as they filled his mind. He breathed a sigh as he felt himself softly calming down. He leafed through the pages softly before reaching his favourite. The big three gods: Poseidon, Zeus and Hades. He didn't know why but he felt a connection to these pages. He found comfort in this book. Just leafing through the pages and the Greek Gods just made him feel...like he was at home. He didn't know why but they did. They made him feel calm. It felt like more of a home than Hogwarts ever could be.

Hogwarts was never truly home for him. It was a makeshift home for the boy-who-lived ,yes but never for him. Just Harry. It was suffocating. Pretending to be someone he wasn't. It felt like someone was choking him. Taking who he used to be and squeezing it out. But he never let it show. He continued pretending. He put on a mask. Showed nobody who was underneath it and continued on. He didn't trust anyone. After all, why would he?

His 'friends' were backstabbing traitors who were paid to hang out with  him. He knew from the moment he met them. They were only there for his fame and money. So once again he pretended. He didn't let them in. He put a barrier around his heart. Built the walls so high no one could worm their way in. No one bothered to try. No one cared. He didn't care. It was normal for him.

Every summer his home life  got worse. His uncle got drunk, it was harder to escape. He used to be able to sneak out for the night to the beach. It was perfect. The fresh air and the bliss of being alone. No one to fear. It always seemed like his worries would wash away with the waves. He never had time anymore. He was too scared. Too scared of what his uncle would do. Too scared of what would happen if someone saw him being himself. 

Snapping the book shut, he slowly got up and walked to the cracked mirror. Looking at himself, he sadly smiled at the state he was in. His eye was black and bruised while his cheek was red with a hand mark and his lip was split. It was better than what it normally would have been. There were no whip marks or burns. He just looked like a skinny 13 year old who got in a fight. No.. this time he had Sirius to threaten them with. None of the neighbours would mind. They would think he had been causing trouble. After all to them he was a troubled kid the Dursleys got stuck with and went to a horrible boarding school because he was so bad. No one would actually pay attention. It was like he wasn't there. Like people only saw the shadow of what they wanted to believe he was.

It was times like these he felt truly alone. When he felt like he was drowning but when he looked up no one was there to pull him out of the water. When he felt like someone dumped the weight of the world on his shoulders and he looked to his side to find no one willing to help him carry it. 

Most people would have sunk into the depressing thoughts and withered away never really appreciating nor realising what they had. Because he did have things. Things even if he couldn't see were still there. When he was young he realised that. So he stopped crying in sorrow every time something happened and counted his blessings instead. He realised life wasn't fair. He saw that you could either be born a king or peasant but it was what you made out of your situation that counted. So he stopped thinking about how unfair life was and instead he appreciated what he had. So he played a little game. Every morning he would wake up and count his blessings and every thing he was thankful for.

Because he was thankful. He was thankful for being given the chance to learn. He was thankful that he even though his fake friends didn't care he still had some true friends who wanted to be around him. He was thankful for his godfather being there and most of all he was thankful that he lived.

Shaking his head out of his  thoughts he pressed his hand to his scar. Recalling the dream he had, he shuddered. It felt so real. Like he was actually in the same room as Voldemort. His head hurt thinking of it. Touching his scar he ran his fingers through his hair, it still stung. It wasn't the pain that bothered him. He was no stranger to pain. He had probably broke most of the bones in his body at least once. Going back to the bed(if you could call it that) he collapsed tiredly. His scar only hurt when Voldemort was close. But he wasn't here right? Voldemort wasn't in a muggle neighbourhood hunting him down. It was absurd. Sighing, he took out a piece of parchment out and wrote a letter to his godfather. Sirius, though still new to his life had proven to be trustworthy enough. It was a foreign concept to him. He had never trusted someone with the littlest things. He didn't trust Sirius fully yet nor did he let him through the walls he built around his heart but it was a start.

Taking a deep breath he wrote his letter.

Dear Sirius,

Thanks for your last letter,

Things are as usual here. Dudley's on a diet before Vernon's sister Marge comes. It isn't going so well. My aunt found him smuggling donuts yesterday. Said she'd cut his pocket money if he didn't try. Got angry and chucked one of his games outside. Bit stupid. Now he doesn't even have something to take his mind off things. Anyway apparently I have to diet with him. Said it was for the whole family. Funny, its the first time I've ever been part of the family. I think they just said it to stop Dudley from whining. 

Its okay though. The Dursleys are mainly scared you'll show up and hurt them if I ask.

My scar hurt this morning though. Do you reckon curse scars still hurt years afterwards? I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back. She's off hunting at the moment.

Thanks 

Harry

Harry re-read the letter before deeming it decent. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside for Hedwig later. Taking one last glance at his reflection he put his book back sighing tiredly. He got up and looked out the window. The sun was rising now. Taking a few moments to look at the sunset, he stretched and left to make breakfast starting another horrible day in hell,