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"Harry! Harry! Wake Up, Freak!" Dudley's high-pitched and grating voice stirred up a surge of irritation within Harry. Startled from his slumber as he jumped on top of the stairs that was the roof of Harry's cupboard, Harry's emerald eyes flickered open. His hand instinctively reached for the nearby eyeglasses perched atop a cracked and worn wooden shelf. As Dudley continued bouncing with careless abandon on the staircase above, the incessant tremors echoed throughout, causing dust particles to rain down in a gentle cascade, settling within the cramped confines of Harry's dreary cupboard.
Harry was certain one of these days the poor stairs wouldn't be able to hold him any longer, and his feet would sink in, Harry just hoped that when that day comes he wouldn't be inside, but outside, so he could laugh at him.
Harry sighed as he slowly rose from his bed, stretching his limbs and feeling the familiar ache in his tired muscles. Carefully, he delicately separated himself from the open book resting on his lap, momentarily interrupting his nightly reading ritual. As he did so, a flood of memories surged through his mind, reminding him of what he had been reading last night. The rest of the books were scattered haphazardly across the floor of his cramped cupboard, several other books strewn amidst the disarray.
Harry wasted little time wearing his clothes before walking out; once he did, he stretched out his limbs fully, letting out a loud yawn; the first thing he saw in the morning was his uncle stuffing his mouth with food and drinking while his aunt was smiling delightfully as if his uncle was breaking some record.
What a beautiful sight, Harry thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes almost to the back of his head.
"Harry, why did you wake up so late?" Aunt Petunia's voice reached his ears as she walked into the kitchen, bringing Harry's food—a plate with a Pimento Sandwich. Harry wondered why she even bothered asking. It is not like telling her the reason would have convinced her not to yell at him after answering.
"Well, I wanted to sleep, but this constant noise was just above me. For a moment, I thought a poor burglar had come to this house, but then I realized it was just the three of you snoring." Harry answered with a sly smile; his uncle's face went red with a mix of anger and embarrassment as he started coughing uncontrollably, desperately trying to clear his airway and inadvertently spitting out bits of beer and food that had been lodged in his mouth.
"What did you say about us?" His uncle shouted as he took deep breaths after coughing, his face somehow turning redder. Harry wondered if his uncle knew that he looked like a traffic light; all missing were his ears turning yellow and nose turning green.
"I said you three sleep like Bulldogs." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, not that he regretted it; it wasn't his fault that the three of them slept loud enough that the neighbors might think an explosion was constantly happening inside the house during the night.
"Do not try to make a fool of me, boy," He loomed over him like a giant; Harry looked up as his uncle tapped his chest with his fat fingers like sausages.
"Why would I need to do that? When you do it to yourself constantly." Harry said with a growing smirk; his uncle glared at him even more; he looked like he wanted to explode. Harry was certain he would need to get out of the city first if that were to happen.
"Shut up, you think you are clever, freak, but you are not even half as clever as you think you are."
"Still makes me more clever than you," Harry said with a look of triumph; his uncle's eyes widened; he reached up and grabbed something from the nearby table. Harry prepared himself to run away; he didn't like it when his uncle threw things when Aunt Petunia stopped the situation before it could escalate.
"Enough, Harry. You will clean the whole house for your filthy comments." She shrieked with a glare aimed at him. Harry sighed in relief; that wasn't as bad as he thought; his uncle let go of the iron pan's handle; he gave Harry one last warning look before sitting down on his chair; the poor chair creaked from the weight, almost breaking in two.
Soon, they all sat around the table to eat, with his uncle voicing out the many things Harry needed to do before the day was over.
"And you should send this letter to the mail, freak after we return from the park." His uncle ordered his fingers covered in oil from the food, going deep into his pockets, soon pulling out a mailed letter before throwing it at Harry, who looked distracted.
"Wait, who is going to the park?" Harry questioned, and for the first time, he sounded genuinely perplexed; he knew today was one of Dudley's birthdays. Sometimes, Harry wondered how many he had per year; his uncle and aunt gave him gifts many times during the year, and if each time they gave him gifts was a birthday, then he had at least seven birthdays.
"Not you freak. Only us, you will stay here and clean." Dudley mocked him while eating a piece of a cupcake, bits falling on his white shirt. "They have already bought new clothes for me." He added with a growing smirk since they rarely bought clothes for Harry. Petunia kissed her son on the cheek while rubbing his back as if she was proud of him.
"I'm so happy you brought new clothes." Harry couldn't help himself, how they treated him and how they showered Dudley in love. Harry knew he should probably not let his mouth run so much, but sometimes, it was too much. What did I ever do to them? Harry wanted to ask.
"Why is that?" Dudley asked warily.
"Because the ones you wear would be sobbing right now if they could," Harry added with a smirk of satisfaction, but that seemed too much for his uncle, who forcefully snatched the plate of food from Harry's hands. With an icy glare, he launched the plate across the room, causing it to collide with the floor. The impact sent a resounding crash through the air, shattering the plate into countless shards. As the pieces scattered in every direction, the once appetizing feast lay ruined and scattered across the ground; his uncle then looked him dead in the eye; his head now looked like a giant tomato, with his hair being the pedicel and sepals.
"Listen well, freak. I won't tolerate you. If you don't shut your mouth, I will have you sleep outside like a dog that you are. We will go to the park, and you will clean every corner of his house. You will not come." His uncle shouted with spit coming out of his mouth as he did. Harry wrinkled his nose; his uncle's mouth already smelled of beer, but his words made Harry smirk, an evil smirk.
Later
"Don't go too far, boy." Uncle Vernon sneered; Harry didn't say anything; he nodded without much thought as he stretched out his limbs after being inside the car for too long. His arms felt a little sore, but nothing new. While annoying, he was used to carrying heavy stuff and cleaning the whole house quite often, so being stuck in the backseat with Dusdley's stinking breath wasn't the worst experience, or maybe it was; Harry wasn't sure.
The entrance to the park was an enchanting sight to behold, adorned with an elaborate gate boasting intricate floral decorations. Perched atop the gate were two delicate bird sculptures, their wings gracefully outstretched as if ready to soar into the heavens above. A gentle breeze carried the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, breathing life into the air around Harry. This refreshing atmosphere starkly contrasted with the heavy scent of alcohol and lingering food odors that pervaded the house. The air within the park itself felt wonderfully crisp and revitalizing.
"Don't worry, uncle. Even if I leave the state, I can always see you. You are very noticeable, after all," Harry said with a smirk; his uncle's face turned red. Again.
Unlike the other years, when his relatives would buy expensive gifts for Dudley for his birthday, this year it was different; his cousin had wanted to celebrate his birthday in the park, a little unusual for someone who stuffed his face with food like a pig, you wouldn't think he was one to want to walk in parks, but nonetheless, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon decided to fulfill the wish of their dear son, Harry rolled his eyes at the way they cuddle him as if he was made of glass, and one small push would shatter him.
' "You are not coming, freak, end of story!" His uncle shouted, his face turning red as he took a breather. Harry heard his aunt looking for a sweater for Dudley upstairs; from the sounds she was making, Harry wondered if she had started fighting someone upstairs.
While Harry usually had no problem being alone in the house, this time, they wouldn't just go to a restaurant, to the shop, or to the school, but they were going to the park. Harry wasn't sure what to expect, but he had watched TV in secret, and he had seen what the park looked like, beautiful and green, so he had decided to see it for himself.
"You know, uncle. I never talk back to you, god forbid, but if I was in your place, I wouldn't want to leave my house alone with a freak inside. Anything can happen-" Harry said, the last words with an evil smile. His uncle went pale, and for a moment, Harry thought his uncle might drop dead, but he wasn't that lucky.
"Petunia!" Uncle Vernon shouted as he walked over to the stairs that led to the second floor.
"What?" Her voice came from upstairs.
"We are taking the freak with us; he might burn the house down," Vernon said, giving Harry a nasty look. Harry barely reacted, but inside, he was celebrating; at least he could finally go somewhere outside this house that wasn't the school.
Harry was about to try and find his old sweater when his aunt came downstairs, holding two sweaters; she threw one of them at Harry, who grabbed it mid-air with confusion; he recognized the sweater; they had bought it for Dudley last year, but Harry had learned the hard way never to touch Dudley's clothes, his uncle would get very mad.
"What are you doing?" Vernon demanded, looking at Petunia angrily; his face had gone red again, and he was breathing heavily. Harry watched as she whispered something to his ear; he had a sudden look of realization as he looked back at Harry.
"You can wear it while we are in the park, but if I see you with it after. I will lock you in the cupboard for a week." Harry barely listened to what he said as he tried the sweater. Obviously, it wasn't his size, but it was better than just wearing a simple shirt during autumn. '
Harry escaped his thoughts as he walked around the park, feeling the warmth of the sunlight caressing every corner of the park. The azure sky stretched above him. As he strolled along the winding pathways, the blades of grass swayed gracefully in perfect sync with the gentle breeze, their emerald hue reflecting dazzlingly against the sun's rays. Harry inhaled deeply, savoring the invigorating air that filled his lungs. He had never felt this good breathing air; it felt like he just took his real first breath.
For a brief moment, Harry wondered if he should remove his sneakers, but he thought not; it was autumn, and he didn't want to have cold feet.
Upon reaching a good spot in the park, his uncle and aunt started to celebrate Dudley's birthday; his uncle told Harry to bugger off.
Now, he found a good bench; everyone else around the park was wearing similar clothes to what his uncle and aunt were wearing, but Harry noticed one person wearing unusual clothes. Unlike everyone else, this one was wearing a big dark cloak, covering from head to toe, with a dark hat that coated his head. If he was trying to be discreet, then dressing up like Sherlock Holmes wouldn't help with that.
While Harry didn't think much of the man, he noticed that no one else was wearing similar clothes as him; he was the only one.
Harry escaped his thoughts when he heard a familiar sound. He looked at the ground near his feet, and just as he thought, a snake was moving just underneath the bench. He had beautiful red skin and cloudy green eyes. Harry's lips twitched upwards. He looked underneath the bench; the snake had stopped moving and instead focused on Harry.
"What are you doing here? Do you want to play?" Harry hissed right away, his words coming out like a snake hissing.
It had been two years since he found out he could talk to snakes. Sadly, when he tried the same trick on cats, hoping he could talk with them too, unfortunately, the cat meowed loudly before hissing at him, trying to scratch his face. Harry ran away and quickly realized that only snakes understood what he was saying.
Harry looked at the snake, expecting an answer, but the snake said nothing. Instead, she looked in the distance; as Harry followed her gaze, his eyes landed on the same mysterious cloaked man. This time, however, the man had positioned himself near a dense bush, blending into the surroundings. Intrigued, Harry observed as the stranger crouched down. The man abruptly scurried away in a rush as if fleeing from something or someone. To Harry's surprise, the man vanished into thin air, dissipating like smoke. Gasping audibly, Harry instinctively rose to his feet, unable to comprehend what had just transpired before his very eyes. He blinked repeatedly, hoping that it was a trick, but alas, the mysterious man had truly disappeared, leaving Harry in a state of bewilderment.
Harry knew his relatives called him a freak, but he never saw himself as one; he didn't even know what a freak was, but the way they would say it sounded like a bad word. But Harry had never seen anything wrong with himself besides talking to Snakes; he was sure that wasn't something someone should be able to do. He had once asked the teacher, and she had looked at him as if he had gone mad before murmuring something about him being a 'freak.' But he had never seen a man disappearing like that, and it seemed the others hadn't noticed since the other people were walking around casually.
Harry escaped his thoughts as he heard a faint noise, a cry for help. Harry ran forward as fast as his little legs could take him; despite being eight years old, he could run for a long time without getting tired.
Harry reached the place where the mysterious cloaked man had vanished into thin air, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he stepped forward, a peculiar tingling sensation enveloped his body, emanating from the very spot the enigmatic figure had vanished from moments before. It was as if the air itself had transformed, growing denser and perceptibly burdened with an unexplained weight. The atmosphere seemed charged with an otherworldly energy, causing Harry's senses to heighten, his every nerve on edge. But just as abruptly as it had arrived, the strange sensation slowly dissipated, leaving Harry surrounded by an eerie silence. Gradually, the air regained its normalcy.
Harry heard the sound again; his curiosity sparked as his ears picked up the faint noise. With a slight brow furrowing, he instinctively turned his gaze towards the nearest bush. He cautiously reached out and carefully pushed aside the small branches, revealing a hidden view. And there, amidst the rustling foliage, stood - a cat—a big one.
Harry had never seen a cat like this one; now that they looked at it from up close, it didn't even look like a cat; it was twice the size of a fully grown cat, was entirely covered in a dark-reddish fur, the strands of which glistened under the sunlight. Its arms and legs were thick and muscular, each ending in sharp black claws that glinted menacingly. Her tail was long and sinewy, with tufts of fur at the end. Its ears were also covered in fur, giving it a wild and feral appearance. With a unique face, her entire neck up until her jawline was covered in the dark-reddish mane that seemed to shine under the sun's light.
"Hey, good girl," Harry said sweetly, his voice filled with affection and curiosity as he carefully extended his hand toward the mysterious cat. The feline stood still, cautiously observing Harry's actions. But the instant his fingertips were mere inches away from the cat's smooth fur. A multitude of tiny spikes materialized, swarming the cat's body with alarming speed. Each tick was adorned with red pointy ends. Harry swiftly retracted his hand. With a menacing hiss, the once seemingly docile cat revealed a mouth full of teeth.
Harry knew better than to hiss back, and looking at the spikes, he knew they were dangerous and did more than pierce his skin a little.
"Don't worry. I won't hurt you," Harry said softly, trying to appear small by crouching on his legs and pulling biscuits from his pocket; he grabbed one and placed it near the cat, but she didn't look interested in the biscuit. Instead, she was looking elsewhere; following her gaze, Harry saw she was eyeing a bird at the top of a nearby tree.
Ohh, Harry thought, knowing cats eat meat. He knew he could perhaps throw a rock at the bird, but Harry didn't want to kill the bird. Harry suddenly remembered that she might like milk.
Harry told the cat to stay put; as he stood up and walked away, he quickly stopped at the nearest market and bought some milk with money he had saved before returning to the same place.
As he expected, the strange cat was still there. Harry opened the milk bottle before pouring it inside a wide cup he had bought; the moment he placed it near the cat, the cat approached hesitantly. Harry backed away, not wanting to scare the beautiful cat.
She sniffed the milk before she started drinking. Harry couldn't help but smile, sitting on the ground, his knees against his chest as he looked at the cat drinking peacefully; her spikes slowly sank back into her skin before disappearing as if they were never there.
Harry found it strange; none of the other cats he had seen had ever done anything like that, but seeing the spikes disappear, he knew she wasn't wary of him anymore. His fingertips brushed against her velvety fur as he extended his arm, a delicate touch that elicited a momentary tenseness in the magnificent feline. However, the big cat soon eased into a state of tranquility, surrendering to the soothing sensation of his affectionate gestures.
Harry couldn't remember smiling this much before; petting this big cat brought him more joy than anything else.
"You are beautiful. Where are your parents?" The big cat looked at him with a sad face before she started drinking milk again.
"I know that feeling, my parents are gone too," Harry said sorrowfully, with a downcast look; the big cat looked up at him as if she could understand every word he said.
"I guess we are both alone," Harry said gravely, pulling his hand away from her; the big cat looked at him before walking up to him, nuzzling her head against his hand before purring.
"Do you want to stay with me?" Harry asked with growing excitement and hopeful eyes; the big cat looked at him, her golden eyes looking back at him, and nodded her little head; he didn't know how, but he was sure the big cat could understand him.
"Then you need a name," Harry said cheerfully before having a look as if he was thinking very hard about something.
"Itisa, do you like it?" Harry asked, looking down at her. The big cat licked his fingers. She liked the name.
"My name is Harry. Harry Potter." He introduced himself while pointing the finger at his chest; the beautiful cat meowled and purred as Harry stroked her fur; he felt joyful that she wasn't baring her spikes at him anymore. They were officially friends.
My first friend, Harry thought, feeling tears behind his eyes, but he didn't allow himself to drown in sorrow; he had a friend now.
Harry kept playing with Itisa and eventually found a little ball. He knew she wasn't a dog, and fetch was something people play with dogs, not cats, even if the cat in front of him was the size of two and had many features that a cat didn't have.
"Here," Harry said, throwing the ball; he expected Itisa to either ignore the ball completely or actually try to grab the ball with her mouth; instead, her spikes grew from her skin, and she let out what could be described as a roar, causing Harry to flinch, the small ball now was full of spikes, stabbing it from every direction, Harry's mouth fell open at what the cat just did.
"How did you do that?" Harry asked excitedly as he looked at the ball full of spikes from up close. He quickly noticed dark liquid dripping out of the ball, and he realized that Itisa's spikes were full of the strange dark liquid; he wondered what it was; perhaps it was poison, but he highly doubted it; he had never heard of cats being able to use poison, but Itisa wasn't exactly a normal cat.
Wow, Harry thought, amazed; he was sure the spikes were dangerous; as Harry turned to look at Itisa, the playful feline let out a gentle meow. Itisa nuzzled her face against his leg. He reached down and tenderly ran his fingers through her luxurious, soft fur. Tracing the patterns on her coat.
"How did you get here?" Harry couldn't help but ask curiously. The cat looked up at him with what could be described as a sad smile; Harry felt for her. He knew what it was like to be alone. He wondered if she was taken from her parents. Harry didn't know, but he didn't want to leave her alone in the park. She might starve.
Harry's face brightened up as an idea popped into his head. It was a stupid idea, but it was a fun one, so who cares?
Here," Harry instructed, his index finger extending towards his own arm. Itisa swiftly leaped onto his shoulder, her agile paws skillfully gripping his sweater fabric. Despite the slight pressure from her sharp nails, they didn't penetrate deep enough to inflict any pain upon him. Harry gently ran his fingertips along the contours of her chin, eliciting a contented rumble of satisfaction from the delightful creature. He knew the Dursleys would never allow Itisa inside, but perhaps he could keep it inside his cupboard, and maybe somehow they wouldn't notice it.
Harry knew it wasn't his smartest idea, but it was the only one he could come up with right now. But before he could execute his plan, he suddenly had another idea that might actually work.
Later
"Where were you, boy?" Vernon shouted angrily. The moment they saw Harry walking back to them, they quickly noticed him holding a bag, and inside it was a shoe box, quite a big one.
"Did you miss me?" Harry couldn't help but retort; he doubted they would care even if he never returned, so why was his uncle even wasting his breath?
"What do you have there?" Dudley asked excitedly, licking his lips with a hungry look. Harry knew he thought inside the box was a cake, perhaps.
"You know there are still boxes around you, you could eat those instead if you are still hungry." Dudley scoffed, a derisive sound escaping his lips as he chewed on a mouthful of whipped cream. His jaw moved lazily. His teeth were stained with the sugary residue of his uncontrolled sweet tooth. The contrasting black and white colors on his enamel only underscored the excessive consumption of candy and desserts that had occupied his entire day.
Dudley ignored Harry while his aunt started packing things up. Vernon told Harry to throw all the trash before returning back to the car. Harry wanted to say that if that's the case, he should also go in the garbage, but Harry restrained himself this time.
Harry heard a meow sound coming from the shoe box; the box had two holes, allowing the air to flow inside, even though Harry was certain she could easily escape the box if she wanted to.
Harry wondered if he can try to talk with her the same way he talks to snakes, but he quickly remembered the last time he tried it with a normal cat. And he wasn't exactly excited to make Itisa angry with him.
Upon returning to the car, his aunt waited for him just outside the gates; Harry figured the two others had already gotten into the car. He started removing his sweater, knowing he was supposed to use it only for the park.
"What are you doing?" Her words made him pause.
"Removing the sweater," Harry answered with a tone as if his answer was obvious; her mouth opened. It seemed as if she wanted to say something to him, but ultimately, she closed her mouth as Harry threw her the sweater.
The ride back home was quiet; thankfully, it seemed his new cat understood Harry when he said that she should stay quiet. But the same didn't go for Dudley, who couldn't help bugging him about the shoe box.
"Is it more cake?" His cousin asked for the tenth time, licking his lips as he eyed the box. Harry couldn't help but get annoyed, but at the same time, somehow, he knew Itisa was getting annoyed, too, and her anger was targeted towards Dudley.
"Is not cake, Dudley," Harry said with a slightly higher voice than normal, making it clear that he was angry with him and that he should drop the subject.
"Don't talk to my son like that freak." Harry heard his uncle yell as he kept driving the car.
The moment they reached their home, Harry grabbed the shoe box and bolted inside the house. He wanted it to leave the box inside the cupboard; perhaps Dudley would forget about it, but it seemed Harry had underestimated how persistent he could be when it came to the chance of eating more cake.
"What do you have there?" Dudley chased after him; Harry cursed under his breath, the box in his hands; he could tell that Itisa was getting furious with Dudley; a part of him wanted her to come out to scare him; perhaps a good scare would teach him a lesson.
"A gift. I bought it for myself. Happy." Harry said, annoyed, trying to keep himself calm and not let his dark thoughts win. Upon hearing his words, Dudley scoffed mockingly.
"Of course, you buy gifts for yourself. No one else would ever buy you anything. Orphan." The moment those words left his mouth, Harry almost growled in anger; his aunt and uncle walked inside as Harry clenched his teeth.
Harry wanted to attack him for the first time ever, but it wasn't needed. She came out like a blur from inside the box, jumping at Dudley, who screamed out in fear. Itisa missed him for an inch, and Dudley tried to run away, only to trip on the ground while screaming in fear.
As Harry's sharp eyes observed his new friend, he couldn't help but notice something unusual. Her spikes had grown back. Instead of their normal shade, they now showcased dark-red pointy ends that seemed almost sharp to the touch. Itisa's golden eyes had changed into the darkest abyss of night.
Itisa emitted a peculiar, low, growling sound that resonated through the air. Rather than the gentle purr he was accustomed to, it resembled the deep rumble of a wild lion.
Itisa's normally impeccably groomed fur appeared to have lost its graceful allure. Instead, it became a chaotic mess, strands sticking out in haphazard directions. Even more astonishing, Itisa's body seemed to be expanding in size before Harry's very eyes, a sight that both fascinated and perplexed him.
Harry watched as Itisa slowly walked closer to Dudley, who was crawling away from her in fear; she roared, baring her large teeth that seemed to have come out of nowhere; they weren't as large before, but now they appeared long, sharp fangs.
"Harry, stop her!!" He heard his aunt shout at him, but Harry ignored her; he looked at Dudley's fearful expression; he looked paler than snow as he kept crawling away until his back hit the wall; he closed his eyes, his hands covering his face.
Enough, Harry thought; he didn't like him, and his words hurt him a lot, but he didn't want anything bad to happen to him. Itisa stopped her advances and turned to look at Harry as if asking if he really wanted to stop, but before he could tell her anything.
His uncle, fueled by rage, charged towards her with great determination. With a swift motion, he aimed a forceful kick towards her stomach. However, much to his surprise, his attempt to deliver the blow was countered. His entire body was forcefully thrust backward. The impact was so intense that Harry stood frozen with his mouth agape. Time seemed to slow down as his uncle was propelled across the room, his body traveling through the air until it violently collided with the wall. A moment of silence enveloped the room, only to be shattered by Harry's uncle's agonized groans, echoing his intense pain and humiliation.
Harry was about to tell his aunt not to attack Itisa, but it seemed his aunt was smarter than her husband as she slowly and carefully walked up to Dudley, but she didn't try to attack her. Itisa's eyes and teeth returned to normal, as did her fur and size; she jumped on Harry's shoulder, licking his cheek, before looking at the Dursley warily.
"Harry." His aunt found her voice to speak. Shaking fearfully, she gulped loudly as she helped her son stand up.
"What is that thing?"
Let me know in the comments what the pairing should be.
Every Like and Review is appreciated. I hope you all enjoyed this Chapter.
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Chapter 3 (Accidental Magic), Chapter 4 (Harry has a Nundu?!), and Chapter 5 ('You are a Wizard, Harry') are already available for Patrons.
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"Harry." His aunt found her voice to speak. Shaking fearfully, she gulped loudly as she helped her son stand up.
"What is that thing?" Her voice cracked like an egg, looking at him for the first time with genuine fear. Harry had never seen her like that before, but he could understand why his uncle was unconscious on the ground. His chest rising and lowering was a sign that he was still alive. Dudley was hiding behind Petunia, his big, chubby legs shaking; he looked on the verge of collapsing again.
Harry remembered when he had been in a very similar position not long ago; the frying pan had hit his head; thankfully, his uncle didn't have good aim, but Harry still remembered the pain; it hadn't gotten away for two weeks, he had found himself hiding in the cupboard, locking the door until Petunia told his uncle that the food was ready.
"She's my friend, Itisa." Harry eventually answered as he rubbed her chin with his index finger; his 'cat' purred in delight and let out a roar upon hearing her name; it was her way of saying that she liked the name and agreed with Harry calling her a friend.
"A friend!!" His aunt shrieked; for a brief moment, she glared at Harry and Itisa, but that was more than enough for his friend to let out a roar as a warning for her to keep her distance; his aunt was startled, stepping away, her face went pale as a groan was heard from Vernon who stirred up, his head moving around in confusion.
I guess peace can only last so long; Harry thought as his uncle reached up, using the nearby table as support to stand up on his feet; the moment his eyes landed on Harry, his face turned red, and his veins looked ready to burst, as did his head.
"YOU!!" His uncle shouted in fury, but as he seemed ready to throw himself at Harry like an elephant, somehow, his aunt got in front of him, stopping him from anything reckless.
"Vernon, calm down." "CALM DOWN. THAT FREAK ANIMAL!!" He shouted even more, and the whole house shook with his voice, echoing from the ceiling to the floor. Itisa let out a roar; this one sounded much more threatening; her spikes came out instantly, but not the ones around her legs, so they wouldn't poke Harry's shoulder.
"Harry, go to your room," Petunia told him, looking back at him for a brief moment; while Harry wanted to ignore her, he knew his uncle was furious, and Harry knew he was scary when he was mad, and he didn't want his only friend to be at the receiving end of his wrath.
"Come on, Itisa." Harry spoke warmly, almost childishly; she gave a warning look towards Petunia and Vernon before following Harry inside his little 'room.'
His uncle didn't even wait until he fully closed the door to start shouting words like: "I want the Freak out of this House. That Freak Animal almost killed me." His uncle shouted.
It was not the first time he had heard similar words. He remembered when his clothes became too small for him, they tried to delay it, but one day, the teacher complained, and his 'lovely' relatives were forced in a way to buy him new clothes. The same night, Harry found it difficult to sleep, his uncle ranting that it was one thing to keep him inside the House and another to spend money on him.
The same night, Harry had enough and tried to run away, but he quickly realized he had no idea where he was going; he didn't know how to survive on his own. But the same night, Harry had learned that he could talk to snakes.
Meow. Harry escaped his thoughts as his new friend looked around the cupboard. Itisa seemed curious as she jumped on top of a shelf where he kept his many books. His relatives loved telling him that all the studying was for nothing, but Harry never had any friends or toys. At first, he had found the thought of reading annoying, but eventually, the books became the toys for him. Something he could get himself lost in for hours.
"Do you like my cupboard— little room?" Harry asked enthusiastically as his cat explored more of the place; she jumped higher, reaching the highest shelf, and her golden eyes looked around the place as if searching for something else to jump onto.
Harry knew his little 'room' wasn't an ideal place for Itisa, but he figured he could sneak outside once the nights came; he could feed her again and play with her.
"Come here," Harry said sweetly. Itisa jumped down from the shelf to his legs; he still couldn't understand how she could grow in size, regrow spikes, her teeth grow larger, and her fur change color. Harry knew he didn't know everything about animals. Usually, he read about medicine and mathematics, and learning a foreign language, like French, was something he enjoyed, too.
But Harry was sure that he had never heard of animals being able to do what Itisa did, and he still remembered the way his uncle was thrown across the room like a sack of potatoes; the man was big enough to be mistaken for an elephant, but Harry still remembered the way he was thrown as if he weighed nothing.
Harry hadn't seen anything; his cat hadn't moved any of her paws, and his uncle had been thrown as if by magic, as if an invisible force had pushed him away.
What else can she do? Harry asked himself; he was curious, and he wanted to know more; outside of his little 'room,' he could still hear his uncle shouting at the top of his lungs; for someone like him, when he wanted to scream, he was like a megaphone and had iron lungs.
Thankfully, Harry noticed that their voices came from upstairs, so he carefully walked up to the door; he opened the door of his cupboard and the moment it was opened wide enough, Itisa somehow squeezed herself through the opening as if she had no bones, or maybe her bones were way elastic.
Harry didn't know as they walked into the kitchen; the dining table was full of leftover food, a half-eaten sandwich. He didn't know anything about raising a cat, but he knew they loved milk and rats. At least that's what the funny stories said on the TV.
Opening the fridge, he found the milk; Itisa was busy exploring the whole place; he looked up to see her walking on the ceiling, her body upside down; her eyes met his before letting out another 'meow' as if walking on the ceiling upside down was totally normal.
"Hi, can you teach me how to do that?" Harry greeted back, trying to understand how his new friend could walk on the ceiling; for a moment, he thought that sharp fangs were helping her to walk on walls, but the ceiling wasn't made of wood; it was made of concrete. Second, her fangs weren't there. It seemed his new friend could make all her weapons retreat back into her body when she didn't feel threatened.
Harry filled a plate with milk and placed it on the dining table; as he sat down and ate a sandwich, Itisa jumped down before she started drinking the milk, but while she did that, Harry couldn't help but feel even more confused.
Despite her size, Itisa isn't that heavy, but why the plate barely reacted to her jump? Harry thought in confusion. When she had jumped from the ceiling to the table, it hadn't moved, despite a sudden new weight added, and her speed would make her landing more impactful and heavier. Not even the plate full of milk had moved and hadn't caused small ripples to form on the surface of the milk as if Itisa weighed nothing at that moment.
If she could make her body weigh nothing for a brief moment, then she would be able to sneak on someone without them ever noticing, Harry thought, realizing that Itisa could be very stealthy if she wanted to.
"You are quite strange," Harry said, causing the cat to stop drinking milk before looking up at him as he petted her cute little head. "But you're beautiful. How did you throw my uncle like that?" Harry asked; he almost expected an answer, but Itisa let out another 'Meow' before she started drinking milk again.
"How can you do those things?" Harry asked in confusion; as he stroked her spine, he still remembered how she grew larger, as big as a fully grown dog. He wondered if she could grow larger than that. He knew his uncle would never let this slide, and from the shouting he was still hearing upstairs, he knew his uncle would punish him.
As long as he doesn't punish Itisa, Harry thought, not wanting to see his uncle throwing a pan at her, he knew how much it could hurt.
"Itisa, can you grow again?" Harry asked excitedly; she looked at him; he could swear that she could somehow understand every word he said. Upon drinking the last bit of milk, Itisa jumped on the floor. Her fur grew darker as her body grew in size, and he quickly noticed that her spikes weren't coming out; she kept growing until she was the size of a fully grown dog, and her fur had turned a dark shade.
"Wow!" Harry didn't know what else to say. He stroked her fur, but this time, he quickly noticed her fur felt sharper against his skin, like he was touching thousands of tiny blades. But he was certain that he would have cut his hand if Itisa didn't like it, and from the way she was purring, he knew she liked his attention.
"H-Harry." The voice pulled him out of his thoughts; he looked up at the middle of the staircase that led to the second floor; there sat Dudley, who was sitting on the stairs, his hands gripping the wooden railings of the staircase; he swallowed as Itisa let out a sound similar to that of a lion. Harry saw her fangs were out, scratching the floor easily, but he didn't want her to hurt him.
"Don't worry, Dudley, she won't hurt you," Harry said calmly, placing his hand on her head as if she could read his intentions. The fangs retreated back on her body, as did her spikes, but she wasn't shrinking to her original size. Dudley didn't seem like he felt less scared of her; if anything, what Itisa made him gulp as he backed away until his back was against the wall.
Harry never remembered him being so afraid; despite the harsh words, despite how much they hurt, he felt bad.
"H-Harry, what is she?" Dudley asked, his voice cracking once again.
Harry knew what she meant, and he had no answer to that; what Itisa was able to do wasn't something an animal was supposed to be able to do, so he couldn't blame him for being afraid and wary of her, but not Harry. She was his friend, and he would never be afraid of her.
Suddenly, the shouting of his uncle stopped, and the sound of a door opening reached the first floor. Harry quickly told her to stand behind him; if his uncle tried to throw another pan, then he would protect her, but it seemed Itisa didn't want to listen to him, at least not this time.
She stood beside him as her spikes grew back, her eyes turned as dark as an abyss. His uncle and aunt appeared; Harry was ready to defend her; his uncle's face was red, as red as blood, while his aunt seemed unusually calmer than him but kept a close eye on Itisa, who let out a low growl, a warning to them both.
But Itisa's warning didn't sit well with his uncle, who suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs.
"I WILL KILL THAT ANIMAL FREAK, AND YOU FREAK WILL STAY IN THE CUPBOARD FOR TWO WEEKS UNTIL." "Vernon!" His aunt suddenly raised her voice, causing his uncle to shut his mouth. Harry was taken aback; he had never heard his aunt act like that, but he knew she wasn't on his side; she was simply more wary and not as stupid as Vernon.
"Harry, did you find the creature in the park?" She questioned, but it was more like stating the obvious; as she and Vernon reached the foot of the staircase, he watched as his uncle neared himself to the frying pan on the table. Harry's hand reached down, caressing her fur to calm her down.
"Yes, and I won't let you kick her out." The thought of being alone again, Harry knew he had known her only for half a day, but she was his first real friend. Sure, she was a 'cat,' but he didn't want to be alone again. If they kicked her out, then he would go with her. Being alone... No.
"You Don't Make the Rules Here Freak!!" His uncle suddenly shouted, gripping the handle of the pan.
Harry knew that; he almost wanted to say that Itisa would make him fly again if he tried anything, but he didn't want that; she was his friend, not his weapon. He didn't want her to think that he only cared for her because she could somehow make people fly. He still didn't know what happened but didn't want it to happen again.
"Harry, did you saw anyone leaving 'your friend' there?" His aunt questioned warily, completely ignoring what Vernon said.
Harry remembered the disappearing man; whoever he had been, he must have been the one to leave Itisa in the park. He remembered his clothes; they were as if straight out of medieval times. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the man had been an actor.
But he knew they would think of him as more of a freak if he told them that a man left her in the park and then disappeared without a trace, like a ghost.
"I found her in the park, I didn't see anyone nearby. I gave her milk and brought her home."
"Well, she's not staying. I Want That Freak Animal-" "ROAR!"
The entire House shook as if an earthquake had just happened; the plates fell down from the table, shattering on the floor. Harry almost lost his footing but kept his balance as he gripped the nearby door, but the same wasn't for his uncle, who tripped, and the pan he had been holding fell on his head; his aunt gripped the wooden railings of the staircase, keeping herself from falling, while Dudley kept himself hidden behind her.
Harry's eyes widened slightly; Itisa was furious, baring her large teeth, with red breath building up in her throat. He didn't know what the breath was, but suddenly, everything in his body told him that the breath was dangerous.
Itisa opened her mouth wide as if ready to unleash the red breath from her mouth, but Harry hugged her; her spikes retreated on their own right away; she didn't want to hurt him as he hugged her. Harry knew she was angry.
"Hey, we are both alright. Itisa, calm down." Harry almost pleaded he didn't know what she had wanted to do to them, but he knew it was something very dangerous. She closed her mouth, her features slowly returning to normal, and eventually, she was back to her usual appearance. She licked his face before jumping on his shoulder, looking at his relatives warily.
"Harry, how about you go outside for a minute or two." His aunt suggested, and despite what just happened, she didn't sound as furious as he expected her to be, but nonetheless, he decided that it would be better for both him and Itisa to go outside for a moment until his uncle calmed down, if that even happened.
Wearing his small sweater, he walked outside. The autumn breeze sent a shiver down his small body; he expected any of the neighbors to be outside at this time; the sun was hiding behind the roof of the next House; it was getting dark, and the leaves covered the earth in brown and yellow. It was the time, after all. Harry sneezed; not the first he had been outside, not the last, but now he had a friend. He wasn't alone anymore.
"Welcome to our neighborhood, Itisa," Harry said with sarcasm dripping from his voice as he spread his arms, pointing at the houses around them. He looked forward to one particular house near his.
"Miss Figg is not here. She has many cats; perhaps you can make friends." Harry suggested, but with the face that Itisa made and how she bared her teeth, he thought she didn't like cats that much.
Harry and Itisa began walking. As they kept walking, Harry and Itisa played catch and ran after one another to see who could run faster. Harry didn't remember the last time he had smiled like this, and his laughter echoed throughout the neighborhood.
Eventually, they reached the end of the neighborhood; he turned around and started walking back, knowing it had been at least an hour since he left his relative's home.
Her roar made the house shake. How? Harry wondered throughout the whole walk back. He couldn't find an answer, and since the neighbors hadn't called the police or anyone, it meant their House had been the only one affected by whatever caused the House to shake.
As they returned back, Harry felt a sudden change; despite his sweater, he felt the cold on his skin since walking outside, but right now, the sun had fallen on the horizon, no more light, yet he felt no cold.
Harry took a deep breath; the air felt warm, and his throat didn't burn; he looked down at Itisa; she kept pace with him; he patted his right shoulder with his hand. Itisa jumped on his shoulder, her golden eyes looking right at his emerald eyes.
"How can you do those things?" Harry wondered out loud, but the only answer he received was a 'meow' sound. Harry chuckled in amusement until he felt it.
Eyes.
Someone was watching him; he quickly turned to his left, and down there, hiding in the grass, was a snake; dark-brown eyes looked back at Harry. He expected Itisa to try to attack but remained on his shoulder and simply looked at the approaching snake with wariness.
Harry kneeled as the snake, who stopped two feet away from him; his skin was a mix of gold and red, with a black tip in the end.
"Why are you here, are you lost?" Harry asked in snake language, hissing as he spoke. He almost expected Itisa to get angry, but instead, she simply looked at him strangely before looking at the snake.
The snake didn't say anything; he looked at him in the eyes before crawling away. Almost in haste, Harry didn't try to chase him; he knew animals didn't like it when someone chased them. His eyes felt familiar, He thought as the snake disappeared.
Soon, Harry found himself in front of the entrance of his House, and to his surprise, his clothes weren't left outside.
He walked up to the door before walking inside. His relatives were eating dinner, and they turned to look at him the moment he entered; all their eyes said the same thing: they were all angry with him; his aunt looked at him the same way he always did whenever it was his birthday.
"You know if you glare hard enough. I might actually disappear." Harry said almost sarcastically. He had learned long ago that his relatives didn't care if he acted like a good boy or not. He had tried, but none of them ever said anything, not even a thank you, and their way of treating him never changed.
"Wouldn't that be something, perhaps you will go away just like your drunk parents." His uncle spat the words with venom; a red cut was on top of his forehead from the pan that had fallen on his face.
Harry stiffened; he swallowed. Hard. Tears formed behind his eyes, but he refused to let them out; he would never let his uncle see him cry; he wouldn't let him win.
"You must have thought hard to come up with that insult. But be careful, your brain might explode; it is not used to actual thinking beyond which sweet I will eat today." Harry said without hesitation and not a hint of regret.
His uncle turned red, but Harry was already inside his cupboard before he could scream like usual.
Harry heard his uncle scream like usual, and his aunt tried to calm him down. He wondered why. His aunt had never tried to calm his uncle before, so why now? Perhaps she was too scared of Itisa. Harry didn't know, but as he lay on his bed, she licked his face, much to his amusement. Suddenly, he heard a low growl emitting from her mouth.
He looked at her eyes; he quickly noticed that she was looking at the scar on his forehead. "Is just a scar," Harry said, but Itisa kept growling, looking at the scar. He wondered why; it was just a simple scar.
Itisa looked back at Harry before looking back at the scar; every time she looked at the scar, she growled, baring her teeth. Harry wondered what was wrong; when she suddenly opened her mouth, purple breath accumulated in her throat, and she suddenly released a tiny bit. Harry watched as the purple breath entered his nose, but nothing happened.
Harry wondered what she did, but now, she licked his cheek once again before jumping on top of the shelf near his bed, resting her head on her paws.
Harry didn't know what she just did with the purple breath, but he didn't feel any different, so he just shrugged his shoulders and laid down on his bed; his emerald eyes looked up at Itisa, who was sleeping quietly.
"I'm so glad I found you Itisa. No matter what happens, we will always be together." Harry promised, caressing her fur; the cat purred. Soon, Harry drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a couple of strangers he had never seen before, but one thing stood out about them.
All four of them were wearing different colors. One is all red. One is all blue. One was all yellow, and the last one was wearing all black.
One Month Later - Professor McGonagall
I wish I'm wrong, she thought as she knocked on the door. She heard someone walking towards the door, and before long, the door cracked open, a familiar face peeking through the opening.
"Professer McGonagall?" Nymphadora asked as she peeked over the small opening of the door. The old professor smiled at the student.
"Good to see you, Nymphadora." The girl looked mildly annoyed that she used the full name. Everyone knew the girl wasn't fond of her full name. McGonagall didn't know why; she thought her name was beautiful.
"Are your parents he-" "Nymphadora, who is at the door?" Andromeda's voice came from inside the House, followed by approaching footsteps; the door was fully opened by Andromeda, who looked at her professor in confusion before stepping aside.
"Please, come in." She invited.
McGonagall walked inside before stepping into the living room; as she suspected, Ted was inside; she smiled kindly at him and turned to face Andromeda. "I'm sorry for the visit at such a late hour, but I would like to speak with you and Ted if it is not a problem."
"Of course. Nymphadora, go to your room." "I Hate That Name!" The girl shouted angrily before running upstairs, her hair turning bright red. McGonagall almost wanted to scold her, but she quickly remembered that they weren't in Hogwarts right now, and this was her home. Her parents were right there; they would scold her if they thought she should be scolded.
Soon, Andromeda prepared a cup of tea and a few cookies for her. Minerva accepted it with a smile; she took a small sip from the tea; she already felt better, but even the tea didn't help to forget what she had heard about Harry Potter.
"Your tea is as good as always, Ted." Minerva smiled as Andromeda cleared her throat, with Ted sitting beside her.
"Minerva, did Nymphadora do something in the school?" She inquired, knowing her daughter loved to cause trouble.
"No, no. Your daughter hasn't done anything this time." Minerva quickly eased their worries as she put down the cup of tea on the table.
"What is it then, Minerva?" Andromeda asked, a little anxious, knowing the old professor would never go to their House at such a late hour if it wasn't anything important.
"Ted, I would appreciate it if you could visit a place for me." Minerva requested. She knew she could do it herself; she remembered that bloody neighborhood but didn't want to draw attention. Ted was a muggle-born, so he could perhaps do it without drawing attention from anyone.
"A Place? Where? and Why?"
"Number Four, Privet Drive, located in the Surrey town of Little Whinging. There's a house there. I want you to check it for me. Since you are Muggleborn, you can do that without drawing attention, I would do it myself, but I can't do that during the night, and during the day. I'm supposed to be at Hogwarts."
"Check what?" Ted asked, sounding confused. He didn't understand what was so special about this particular neighborhood.
"We left him there. I want you to check the House and tell me if you see anything unusual."
"Who did you left?"
"Harry Potter."
Question: In which House you think Harry should be?
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