Worthy Of Magic

Part 1 - The Void

Prologue 

"Hold out your hands."

Harry James Potter; a boy abandoned by his parents. Left at the doorsteps of relatives who hated him; held his tears in, contained the bubble of terror and hate threatening to burst out of his chest, and held out his hands, palms up.

He felt the pain even before the steel cut through the air and smacked into his tiny palms. His arms buckled under the force of his uncle's swing and he could not stop the cry of pain escaping his lips.

"Keep them up boy!"

The steel swung down again.

Harry Potter cried out again and the louder he cried, the happier his Uncle got.

Today it was the scale. He had outscored Dudley in Mathematics and the punishment was whack the hands so he could not hold a pencil.

It was rather insignificant compared to what he had to endure when he had jumped six feet in the air after being surprised when his cousin- Dudley and his gang had jumped out from behind bushes to chase him for fun.

The belt buckle had left deep marks. Going by the amount of pain and heat radiating from his back; he was sure flesh was torn. His body shook trying to expel the pain through sobs but he had decided some time in during the past beatings that he would stop giving the Dursley's the pleasure of seeing him cry.

Harry Potter buried his head as far as could into the bundled up sheet and did his best to keep the sobs in. The sheet helped muffle the few cries that did escape from his heart through his mouth. His eyes were shut tight. He tried not to let the tears leak. Tears meant marks on his face. Marks on his face meant she; his Aunt, would slap him around for giving her a reason to use the sink.

The fear of what was to come helped him overcome the pain. He embraced that heat. Let it wash all over him. He let himself sink into it and almost imagined being sucked into a void. There was no suffering in a void. The void was calm. The void was his friend. He could stay in the void and function like a zombie. Retreating into the void kept him sane.

He had found the void to be a place of safety and had been inspired to find it when he used to peek through his cupboard to try and watch television. He wasn't able to see much but he could hear enough. His favourite was the man with the soothing and haunting voice talking about the desert; the emptiness, the harsh and unforgiving nature. Allowing only the Strong to survive. Those words always rang in his mind when he was being beaten. It was also how he had found the void. It was a place of safety and one where he could survive.

She came the next morning to take him to the bathroom. He was allowed two visits per day. He had missed the last because he had pushed the pig into the mud. It had been when he came out of the void. Outside the void, there was either suffering or anger. He had been angry then. He liked being angry. Being angry made the pain hurt less. He didn't understand it. But he liked it.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell coming from the cupboard under the stairs. It was disgusting but he had learnt to live with it. It was one of his earliest memories. It was when he got used to the smell outside he realised the cupboard was disgusting.

"Vernon certainly went over board yesterday," she said grimacing in disgust as she peeled his torn shirt off his tiny frame. She always kept her distance from him. Like he was a disease.

"Do your thing freak," she snapped. "Heal those wounds quickly. I don't want Dudley being late to school because of you!"

The boy scowled. He let his mind return from the void and he felt the rush of rage. He wanted to hurt this woman. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to make her feel the pain he was feeling a hundred times over. Instead, he clenched his teeth and pulled at the void. The void did strange things. He could never use it at will. However being in the presence of the woman made it almost easy. It was why he never lunged for the razor lying innocently on the porcelain sink and sliced at her neck repeatedly until his hands were red.