Harry Potter and The Wizard in his Head

Harry had been alone for as long as he could remember. Stuck in the dark place in the Dursley's home. They called him a freak, and he was starting to believe that maybe they are true...

"Hey! Harry! I know you hear me! I can feel the connection being held strong. Respond boy..."

He must be going mad—"No you are not going mad. You are Magic. This.. is magic. I am talking to you through it. M. A. G. I. C." a gruff and angry voice interjected his though process.

Finally deciding to humour the voices in his head "Fine Magic in my head, who are you? Are you what happens to freaks when they reach 6 years?"

"I cannot claim to know how the Weave functions in this Plane since my senses are blocked to this world. But if you are asking about the Telepathic connection I have established, it is because your magic has matured enough to accept foreign connections—"

"That sounds dirty. Miss Helen told to not talk to perverts, are you a pervert? If you are in my head, am I a pervert?"

"Let. Me. Finish. I am Mordenkainen. A wizard, a Scholar of the Magics, the Grand Mage of Oerth. And fortunately or unfortunately I have been stuck as a soul within you for 6 long years. And now I am finally able to speak with you...."

A lot of big and hard words were spoken, but Harry zoned into one fact in particular."....You were there since I was a baby....You must have seen my parents right?"

He asked almost hopeful, but also a hint of trepidation followed up "Did they....love me? Do Uncle and Aunt tell the truth? D-did they abanbon me?" His throat clogging up and his eyes welling up, with the tears that almost threatened to overflow, slurring over a few words.

Now Mordenkainen was known to be a tough nut, difficult even with his dearest friends. But this was a boy who he had seen growing up, watched over for 6 years.

"Haaah---- Unfortunately I can not talk much about your parents, since i do not know much of them both. But I do know of your mother. A gallant woman she was, one of the strongest Love I have seen in my years alive. Enough to summon myself as protection for you my child against magic trying to do you harm, sacrificing herself in the process...and do not let anyone tell you otherwise."

There were the words of affirmation Harry had been looking for unknowingly. Amidst all the jeers from Dudley and his bullies. Amidst all the times his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon said he was unneeded and a freak, he was looking for words of care. Which this voice in his head, no matter how gruff and angry sounding, provided.

There was nothing he could do but break down in snot and tears in his bed. Six years of fighting a losing battle all alone, six years of constant abuse will take a heavy toll on anyone, especially on a young boy whose whole life was encompassed in those six years, half of which are lost to infancy.

And so he did cry. Cry himself to sleep, but his sleep was not nightmares but dreams of adventure as a boy his age should have, for he was no longer fighting alone. He had the Lord Mage of Greyhawk on his side. And he will not suffer a weak apprentice.