Ꭺ NᎬᏔ ᏞᏆFᎬ ᏴᎬᏩᏆNᏚ

2

Number 4 Privet Drive was what you would consider normal. It was the picture of flawlessness compared to the other houses that lined the street in the suburban neighborhood. The lawn was cut the same length, the garden didn't have a single weed, the sidewalk and pathway were clear of dirt, and the house itself stood tall, looking as if it had just been sold. In all, it was a picture of perfection but didn't your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover? Although the house may look normal and the inhabitants inside may look like a loving family, everything wasn't what it seemed.

You see inside of this overall impeccable house, it was noiseless with an occasional snore, grunt, or groaning of a mattress. Not a single soul stirred within the house, not even a mouse, and you could say that the flawless family was asleep. Well, you couldn't be more right, but their darkest secret resided in the second bedroom and was currently awake.

In the second bedroom, the moon shone through the open window to show a boy, no more than fifteenth years of age with flyway black hair and electric green eyes that glowed with hidden power and strength behind round spectacles, laying on a small twin-sized bed. The boy was Vernon and Petunia's nephew, Harry Potter, the black sheep of the family, all because of one thing: he was a wizard, an unnatural occurrence of nature. In their eyes, an ungrateful freak.

Well, let's see why Harry Potter would be awake, shall we?

- & -

As I laid there on my small twin-sized bed, in my equally small room that was only given to me because of one thing: how my Hogwarts letter was addressed. I guessed my so-called 'aunt and uncle' didn't want the abominations to know that they weren't the perfect normal family that they portrayed. Shaking my head, only if the Wizarding World could see me now. How their precious 'savior' was reduced to no more than a common slave.

As I continued to lay there, tracing every line and crack in the ceiling, I tried to forget the nightly terrors that haunted me. Only if it were that simple, to forget and not relieve every death or encounters with Voldemort when I closed my eyes, but sadly it wasn't.

One does not simply forget things because they were horrible or life-changing, no matter how bad they are. Trying to forget is simply mad because the events that took place leave a large impression on your subconscious. Instead, you are forced to relive every moment until you either went crazy from the constant reminder of your loved ones dying or find an anchor so that you don't get lost in the sea of insanity.

With a groan of frustration, I rolled out of bed and found myself in front of the open window. It was peaceful, I decided after a moment of gazing outside. It was different from the daytime, more quiet and beautiful. From the way, the moon and stars shone in the heavens above to the way the plants seemed to dance slightly in the nonexistent wind that blew. The animals of the night crept silently on the ground below as if one loud sound would disrupt the peace and mesmerizing display that the night offered.

The longer I looked outside, the more I became at peace with myself and my thoughts returned back to my last two years at Hogwarts and even when I got my Hogwarts letter. I knew for a fact that Dumbledore knew about the abuse that went on inside of this much too normal house. He knew that Quirrell was possessed in my first year because why else would he keep a dangerous stone on the third floor? Unless he wanted me to be the hero and protect the stone from harm's way, which I did. I bet five galleons that he wanted me and Voldemort to encounter each other because he wanted me to die or finish the 'dark lord' off for good.

In my second year, he knew for a fact that a Basilisk was terrifying the school. How could you not? With all the petrifications and with me being the only one to hear it, should have given him enough clues to know what it is. I mean he has been along for a while now and has experienced things that I haven't. Why would he let the responsibly rest upon my shoulders when I'm nothing but a child?