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three | safeguarding

~no pov

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

He'd been through a lot.

He was only one when his parents were ripped away from him. Luckily, Father Time didn't allow the memory to stay contained in his mind.

Unfortunately, Father Time didn't allow the good memories his parents gave him before the crash to be remembered either.

So, he grew up with a completely different perspective on love and how a home should feel like.

Starting with the cupboard.

Growing up, living in a cupboard seemed completely normal. Doing housework such as cleaning, cooking and tending to a garden for hours seemed completely normal. Being bullied by his cousin and all of his cousin's friends seemed normal.

Being hit seemed normal.

That was, until he started primary. 

From the age of four, all of this started. As soon as Harry stopped getting publicity for the car crash and his miraculous survival, the Dursley's didn't want him. 

They were considering leaving him on the side of the road in London and hope for the best, until they realised he would forever be recognised as the Boy Who Lived.

It would get media attention, but not the right one. The Dursley's name would be shamed and the older two would be thrown into prison for their negligence. 

So they decided if they were going to be stuck with an orphan who benefits them in no way, they can make him benefit them.

He was a child; growing up as a housemaid would seem completely normal to him. It did.

Once the Dursley's put a use to the boy, they seemed unhappy. They needed more from the boy. He was only a child - what more could he do?

Vernon Dursley realised three months and twenty-four days later that Harry Potter could be used as a stress reliever. A punching bag. An open target.

And so he did.

Harry Potter thought being a servant and stress-reliever to his "family" was completely normal.

It took him a while to realise it was not. In primary school, Dudley had warned everyone that he was a freak because he survived the accident. He made up some stupid rumours that kids believed- because they were kids.

So Harry didn't have any friends. No one to tell him the way he was being treated wasn't right. 

The night of his birthday, he asked Petunia why Dudley didn't do what Harry had to. All he got in response was a slap to the face and something he would remember forever.

She told him, "You're a freak, a waste of space. You shouldn't have survived that crash. You killed my sister and my brother-in-law. It was all your fault. That's why we treat you differently."

Of course, that wasn't true. But Harry Potter was five years old. Of course he was to believe his only mother figure.

The word differently in that sentence piqued an interest in the young boy. If his treatment was considered different compared to Dudley, would it be considered different to everyone else?

He started Year One with a new theory. He was sure that he was the only person being treated the way he was.

The normalcy Harry believed in was no longer there. If anyone was to blame for that, it was Petunia. Yet she'd never admit that.

First day back, he went to the library at lunch and logged into a computer. 

Now this- this was what got him in trouble. 

The internet became his worst enemy and new best friend all at once. 

Is it norml for kids to be hit in there house ?

He wasn't excellent at spelling or grammar just yet, but who could blame him? Frying pans to the back of the head weren't exactly knowledge-inducing. 

Safeguarding came and pulled him out of his last lesson and he was brought to the headteacher's office. Once inside, he saw two innocent faces plastered on his aunt and uncle, and two concerned faces on a random man and woman.

He was asked why he searched up what he did. Harry was terrified, but the look his uncle gave him was enough to know what to do.

He had to lie.

Harry Potter never usually lied. That day he realised he'd be growing up lying a lot. 

Harry spoke slowly. "I read a book," he began, "where this girl wasn't being loved in her house." Lying on the spot wasn't easy but eventually it became his best skill. "Her dad apparently used to drink something. And then he hit her."

His headteacher tilted her head. She believed him. 

"At my house, no one does that. I was confused. Was it normal to get hit or was it normal to not?" He lied through his teeth, sounding completely innocent the entire time.

He didn't want to. He would've preferred to tell the truth, say that the girl was actually him, and it's his uncle and aunt who hit him.

But he didn't know what would happen if he did. Ambiguity was something Harry avoided. He liked to know what was going to happen. It gave him time to prepare himself.

Like if he burnt something or broke something- he knew what would happen after and he would prepare himself for it.

"No sweetheart," the safeguarding man began, "it's not normal. Your home life is healthy and I'm glad. The girl in the book doesn't have a normal home life and she doesn't deserve that. Child abuse is illegal, and if it was real her parents would be sent to prison."

Prison.

He wanted Petunia and Vernon in prison. Except he didn't know what he'd be living like if not with the Dursley's.

So he kept quiet. He had an abnormal home life. He was the victim of child abuse. He didn't deserve that.

Except he believed he did.