The Son of Salazar

Chapter One

WARNING: CHILD ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER! (Will put *666* at the place where child abuse starts and ends, just in case you want to skip past it. Thank you)

May the gods be ever in your favour!

It had been a normal day for Freak so far. He'd woken up to the sound of Aunt Tuney banging on his cupboard door. "Freak! Get up! Get up! We're late, you stupid boy. Why didn't you wake us up?" Freak rubbed the sleep from his eyes, hurriedly tossing his worn little blanket away from where it was tangled around his legs. He squinted around him, everything was still fuzzy, his eyes have been weird for the last week or so, ever since Uncle Vernon had thrown him through that window. His eyes had bled for a while, then, a spark of green magic later, his eyes felt fine, but he couldn't see as well.

"Freak!" came a different, more masculine voice. "Haven't you started breakfast yet? I have to leave in twenty minutes, you lazy brat!" Freak flinched and tumbled out of his cupboard, which had been unlocked minutes ago by Aunt Tuney. Freak got up, ignoring that he had ouchies up and down his small body. His back hurt, but he made his way to the kitchen anyway.

"Yes, Aunt Tuney?" Freak asked politely. Petunia was clanging around the kitchen, practically tossing a mixing bowl onto the counter, closely followed by ingredients from out of the pantry.

"Mix up batter for pancakes, be quick about it. I want Vernon's breakfast on the table within ten minutes so he has time to eat," she told the five-year-old briskly. "Plenty of time."

"Yes, ma'am," Freak said meekly, pulling a stool over and stepping on top of it. He added in the eggs to the powder Petunia always had him use to make the batter. He carefully measured out the milk and poured it in before stirring. As he did so, he poured a small amount of oil into a pan then began to make the first pancake.

He heard his cousin getting ready for the day. Or, rather, Aunt Petunia trying to get his cousin ready for the day. "Please put your shirt on, Diddydums. You can't go to the park in your jammies!"

"I-I-I-I d-d-don't w-want to g-go to the p-p-p-park!" Dudley wailed, heaving obviously fake sobs. Freak rolled his eyes, putting a completed pancake onto a plate before sliding it into the microwave to keep it warm.

"Please? Pretty please? Do it for Mummy?"

"NO!"

Five pancakes later, Vernon came back into the kitchen. He took the entire plate from the microwave without a word of thanks before heading into the dining room. Out of the corner of his eyes, Freak blurrily watched Vernon douse his pancakes in syrup. "Make them bigger next time!" he ordered Freak, who didn't bother answering; he might just get himself in trouble.

Tap tap tap.

Freak turned to the window, and was surprised to see some kind of bird. He flipped the pancake he was working on, then slowly slid over to the window, hopping of his stool. He squinted out the window. It was big, and brown. That much he could tell, but other than that, he couldn't tell what it was. Maybe some kind of hawk… but why would a hawk be tapping at his window?

Freak shrugged it off, birds sometimes brought him things every now and then. Usually they were letters to someone named Harry. Sometimes they had other things, like food or candy or small toys. Sometimes a pouch of shiny coins.

He opened the window, and it soared in, dropped something, then flew away with a screech. Freak frowned, then picked up the piece of paper. An envelope. It was sealed with something that felt a bit like remoulded crayon. It had markings on it, but he couldn't make it out. Freak opened the envelope, but he couldn't read it, no matter how much he squinted. And it wasn't like he was that great at reading anyway. His kindergarten teacher always ignored him, the Dursleys made sure of that. But then something else fell out of the envelope with a loud clatter.