Our Corrupted Souls

Part VI: The Servant Becomes the Teacher.

"Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive."

~Joanne Harris.

As if the shared moments he had with Death had been nothing more than a fantasy, Harry returned to the care of the Dursleys. Harry sat on the floor, looking at the family of three mouches on their food as he looked at the scraps being tossed down to him, as if he were a sort of dog.

Throughout the years, Harry had learned one thing, and that had been respect. Anyone that knew him knew they should hold respect when looking his way. He was tired of doing as told. If people wished a hero, they should show him respect if they wanted to stay in his good grace- yet the Dursleys did anything but.

Vernon happily sucked on his fat fingers, licking off the syrup that had coated his fingers as he poured it all over his cheesecake pancakes. Petunia cooed and made truck noises to persuade Dudley to try his food, but the brat refused to eat anything that was not stuffed with chocolate. Harry's lips were pressed thin, glaring at the boy wasting the food that his stomach was begging to be fed.

Upon hearing the boy's stomach churn, Vernon tossed a piece of his pancake on the carpet under the round table. Harry eyed the piece but refused to move. Vernon grumbled, displeased.

"That is for you, boy!" he shrieked, lightly kicking Harry's shoulder.

The boy fell on his side, but managed to sit back up and regain his posture, gripping hard on the only thing that kept him sane- Hagrid's blanket.

"PETUNIA!"

"Harry!" hissed the woman with a gentle kick. Harry's dangerous glowing eyes met hers, startling her more than she was willing to admit. "G-get your food!'' This time, the demand was met with a little hesitation, almost like she knew the things Harry wanted to do with just a swift motion from his wand.

Oh, how he wished to use magic.

If he wasn't sure Tom had a trace on him, Harry would let his emotions get the better of him. Having the mind of a toddler was not pleasing.

Harry refused to move. His head slowly turned to look forward as his eyes settled on the piece of pancake his stomach so desperately wished to have. Eyes were narrowed in on the piece, almost like a predator does to its prey; Harry was ready for the hunt, but like a lioness, he needed to stalk the prey.

Male lions are lazy and sloppy, but the female, she is cautious. She blends into her environment, crouches down until her head is hidden in between the grasslands of the savanna. She sits there and waits until her prey moves.

Harry is she.

Harry eyes the piece of food disregarded on the floor, but he does not wish to hunt something so worthless. He wants something that is deserving of his sharp claws.

The boy is preying on Vernon, waiting for the man to run his patience thin and attack- just like a lioness does. He needs his prey to make the first move, just to grant it the surprise attack.

Vernon kicked Harry again, this time with more force. Harry felt the hard sole of his uncle's shoe hit his chin, sending him back. "Eat, I say!"

"Vernon!" Petunia gasped, allowing for Dudley's plastic spoon to clatter on the table.

"The freak won't eat!" Vernon shouted, face turning red. "We are generous enough to offer it a roof, food and clothing. It is not royalty!"

You're hurting him, Petunia wished to voice out, seeing a glimmer of her sister's emerald eyes in the boy.