Harry Potter: The Saviour's Awakening

Prologue 

After he left, Ollivander smiled, his silvery eyes looming over the thirteen-year-old boy outside. "The Saviour of Magic," he whispered. "Yes, as I said, we can expect great things from you, Harry Potter. Some might view it as terrible, but it is necessary. I just hope you don't crumble before you fulfil your destiny."

.....

Chapter 1 "A Weird Child"

Harry Potter was a weird child. That was the consensus among everyone in Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The boy was said to have been orphaned because of a car crash that killed his parents when he was just a year old. No one knew much about his parents, but Petunia Dursley, the boy's aunt, had told everyone that the boy's father had been a good for nothing drunk and his mother, a whore. She had also warned everyone that the boy was a delinquent. Seeing him in large clothes and looking scruffy all the time just reinforced that image.

However, Harry Potter was anything but such a child. He was unusually intelligent since young, but the Dursleys always did their best to discourage him. The boy had always known that he was different . For as long as he could remember, Harry was called a 'freak' by his relatives and they spoke about his 'unnaturalness'. This confused the young boy because he wondered what they were talking about. But he didn't dare ask what it meant because he knew that doing so would make his relatives angry. The last time he had asked about his parents, Uncle Vernon had beaten him up and not given him any food for three days. Harry didn't really care for a repeat performance.

Things slowly started to change as Harry grew up. Strange things started to happen as he began school. For one thing, he could instantly grasp everything being taught by the teachers and he could remember what he had studied or learnt with excellent clarity. This, of course, led to more problems with his relatives. His cousin Dudley, who seemed to be inflating on a daily basis due to the amount of food going into his mouth, couldn't even pronounce anything other than his own name properly. This led to more punishments as the Dursleys claimed that he had cheated on his tests.

As he grew up, things only seemed to get worse. Harry was given an unending list of chores around the house. He had to cook, clean, weed the gardens, wash the dishes and was essentially a slave to his uncle, aunt and cousin. He was given very little food while his whale of a cousin could eat anything he wanted. His hand-me-down clothes were all too big for him and he was forced to sleep in a tiny cupboard under the stairs. He was not allowed, because it made the Dursleys angry, to be happy or sad. Harry personally felt that didn't have anything to be happy about. And dare he ever reveal that he was sad or angry, he knew that Uncle Vernon would be furious; he did not have a death wish.

Harry hated his relatives. Even as a four-year-old child, he hadn't liked them. As time went on, he realised that strange things happened to him when he was angry or upset. That horrible teacher's hair had turned blue on the first day of school because he hadn't known his name; it really hadn't been his fault! How was he supposed to know his name if the Dursleys didn't tell him? Freak could hardly be his name; he was smart enough to know that. However, the strange occurrences, just like this one, never stopped.

When Aunt Petunia had shaved him nearly bald one day, his hair had surprisingly grown back the very next morning! Of course, Aunt Petunia had shrieked and shrieked for an hour and he was punished for it, but it made him very curious as there were several other similar instances over the years. Then, today, during one of Dudley's routine Harry Hunting games, he had wished himself to escape from his tormentors and the next thing he knew, he had appeared on the roof of the school!

That had blown things way out of proportion.

Harry was seven-years-old now. He dreaded to go back home, knowing what was going to happen. He didn't know how he had appeared on the school roof, but it had triggered a major scene, bad enough for the Headmistress to get involved. There were no stairs to the roof, so the fire department had to be called to rescue him. Harry knew that he was in trouble. His heart thumped in his chest as he pondered the question. Did he have some strange power like the superheroes on the telly? Is that how he could do such things? His bones had always healed themselves the next day after every beating. Normally, he should have been covered from head to toe in bandages for months, but even after sustaining several injuries, he was still fine the next morning!

Harry took a deep, shaky breath and at once, he calmed down. He had always been able to control his emotions. There was a focus on which he could draw from that helped him maintain an expressionless facade all the time. He didn't know what it was, but perhaps it was his mystery force? He certainly wasn't going to complain. Maybe he should try to do something, like levitating an object. That would prove his theory about some arcane power.

If he survived tonight's beating, that is. Harry knew that there was no escaping this. Aunt Petunia had been called to the school because of the incident.

As soon as he entered the house, he focused on finishing his chores quietly in order to get back to his cupboard as soon as possible. He could see Aunt Petunia seething in the background. He wanted to get back to the cupboard before his uncle could come home. Maybe then, he could avoid the beating that would follow, but he wasn't stupid enough to expect it. Once he finished cooking dinner, he closed the door of his cupboard, just as Uncle Vernon entered the house in a towering rage. Harry's thin form trembled in fear as he heard Aunt Petunia screech loudly, telling her husband about the incident at school.

"BOY!"

Harry cringed as he slowly opened the door of the cupboard. He stepped outside and entered the kitchen.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he asked in his usual bland voice that lacked any form of expression or emotion.

But that was the last thing he said before the obese man grabbed him by the throat. "What did I tell you about using your freakishness, boy?" he bellowed. "I won't have your craziness in my house, do you hear me? None of it ! How did you end up on the roof?"

Harry tried to get away, but the grip was too tight. Just as he was about to pass out due to of lack of air, Vernon bodily threw him on the floor towards the other side of the room. Gasping and coughing, he wheezed out, "I swear, I don't know. One minute I was running and the next second I was on the roof. It was like magic!"

That was the dreaded word. Petunia's eyes widened in horror and rage; she gasped. Vernon gave an almighty roar of rage, his face an angry shade of red.

Uncle Vernon came forward and pinned the boy to the ground, face down. Harry whimpered as the man's belt impacted his back. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" screamed Uncle Vernon, his face puffed up with rage. He had promised himself that he would beat the freakishness out of the boy when they took him in and that was what he was going to do! He wouldn't have such freaks living in his house. If he couldn't get rid of the boy, then he would get rid of the nonsense that was in the boy itself! After this punishment, maybe the freak would think twice before using his unnatural powers on good, hardworking people such as themselves.

Vernon grabbed the iron rod which was next to the fireplace. Harry's eyes widened in shock and terror, but the next thing he knew, he was screaming himself hoarse with tears streaming down his face as the rod impacted his legs, breaking them. Petunia shrieked in panic, but Vernon didn't stop, his rage driving him over the edge. Harry was crying and screaming, begging his uncle to stop as the rod hit him over and over again. Just as Harry saw the rod come for his head, he called upon his strange powers and wished he could be somewhere safe; someplace where he would be far away from the Dursleys so that they couldn't hurt him. Just as the rod descended, Harry disappeared from the kitchen of the Dursley residence with a loud crack .

Harry felt as though he was being squeezed through a tube. The pain he was feeling was unbearable and he fell unconscious before he could identify his new surroundings.