Sun Tzu Says

Prologue: II

AN: What was I gonna say again? Yeah, remember to review/comment a lot. Your good words are what feeds my creativity. Cliché, I know, but really, writing with minimal reader engagement is just so tiring. Everyone likes writing much more when they know there are people waiting for the update.

Or maybe this is just my insecurities speaking after I got a flame comment in record time. It only took three hours.

Anyway, happy reading.

Time: A few minutes before Voldemort's attack

Harry was feeling a bit down tonight.

Behind him, he could hear his dad and Uncle Padfoot trying their best to make a smile bloom on his face, miming various characters from his storybooks and using their magic to have some light-hearted slapstick comedy, but Harry's mind was just not in it. His mother was sitting on a couch nearby, ignorant of the two grown men's childish antics as they gave each other cushioning charms and bounced all around the room like a human hamster ball of doom, her worried emerald eyes locked on to her son as she cradled her drowsy daughter in her arms.

He stood beside the door, standing on his tiptoes to reach the window, peeking through the blinds at all the Muggle children running down the street, their joy palpable and infectious, going from door to door dressed in costumes of all sorts, little witches and wizards much like himself, tiny werewolves and young vampires with their little mouths full of chocolate. Their tiny, young forms gilded under the yellow glow of the street lights, their laughter loud and rambunctious as they played with each other, chased each other down the street and exchanged candies, all things that he couldn't do, hadn't done for what seemed like so long.

He could hear their laughter, so loud it almost hurt him; he could almost hear the sound of the plastic wrappers of numerous delicacies, chocolates and sweets crinkling in the small bags they clutched possessively in their tiny hands. Every house that they visited only increased their joyous burden, and at the end of the night, they would go home with bags full of chocolates and high on sugar, a stash that would take them weeks to finish.

"I want to go outside." He whispered to himself, his voice low so that nobody could hear his inner wishes, knowing instinctively that he wouldn't be allowed to do so. Even reaching the doorknob was a struggle in and of itself- being able to sneak outside on his own was a pipe dream at best.

It wasn't as if he wasn't spoiled rotten. Harry had always got things before asking; the Potter parents had spoiled their oldest child rotten and now was no different. Even then, standing at the window in his childish 'little Merlin' pyjamas, Harry was painfully aware of the werewolf costume that lay forgotten on his bed, thanks to a tantrum he had thrown earlier in the evening, demanding to be let out of the house.

He still remembered the day they had moved into the cosy little cottage at Godric's Hollow. He had been so happy to live in such a small house in the countryside, looking like something plucked straight from the pages of his favourite fairytale, set in a sea of emerald with Muggles as neighbours, a far cry from the cold, echoing hallways of Potter Manor. Now, though, he craved the open gardens and endless empty space of Potter Manor.

Potter cottage had become a nightmare for the child who craved freedom so, who wanted to ride on a broom and be free in the skies. The child, born destined to tread over the world, enclosed in a gilded cage smaller than the living room back at Potter Manor.

Now that everything was quiet and he had calmed down, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about his own wants. He didn't know much about what was happening in the world, but the visible pain in his parents' eyes at his sadness was like an ice-cold spear through his young, beating heart. He knew that his desire for freedom pained them, and he didn't want to hurt the only people in his life.