Chapter 1
On the night of 1981, Voldemort himself could’ve never predicted the outcome of his actions.
If he had known, he would’ve never targeted the Potters, instead going to another part of the world to live a calm life in a big beach house with a direct seaside view.
To Tom, Harry was a gremlin sent directly from Death himself, haunting him as he goes since Death cannot reach him.
Tom has always been unlucky, but he had never counted himself as cursed, until he met the boy, that is.
—
He wiped the sweat off his brow, licking it from the pad of his finger.
“Boy! Just… just take a stroll to the park.” Please.
Harry nodded, deliberately rolling his eyes in to the back of his head so only the whites would show.
He watched as Aunt Petunia stared him down, running a hand through her hair before turning around and walking inside the house.
A loud click resonated. The door had been locked.
Harry grew excited. He loved this game.
Last time this had happened, his Aunt hadn’t opened the door, so he figured it was a test of his wills.
He gnawed at the door handle until it was cracked in half and his mouth bled. He banged his head against the glass over and over and over again, loving the way the glass shard itched the inside of his frontal bone.
He was rushed to the hospital where he was given a delicious tasting liquid and two lollipops. He stole an enima because he had always wanted to try one. It didn’t turn out pretty.
He lost a tooth that day. But it grew right back!
He keeps it in a jar in his room, the basement. His Aunt and Uncle told him they couldn’t stand knowing he was within smelling distance, therefore they gave him the basement where he was hidden.
He loved to roll around at the local dog park, coating himself in feces. It warded off the vampires.
As much as he loved reminiscing, Aunt Petunia gave him an order. Harry must submit and complete orders.
He was only nine years old, but even he knew how to find the local park.
By tracking the geese poo, of course!
Harry’s relentless energy came forward, attitude undaunted. Sniffing out geese poop left and right, his footsteps moved in an erratic rhythm on the hard, earthly floor.
Oh dear, he’s forgotten his shoes again! Oh well.
Getting the right path down, he began sprinting towards the area of the park, senses focused on one thing and one thing only, the monkey bars.
Today, he would conquer and become king.
Arriving at the park, he halts behind the bush, eyes zeroing in on the other kids.
Such meat.
He slowly stood in the manner of a predator, hunching over like an old man with a hernia and making his way forward.
He didn’t make it very far before noticing one of his best mates, Piers!
He notices Piers before Piers notices him.
Harry stands there, hunched and waving, all teeth on display with his free, natural smile showing.
Piers notices him, hitting his friend as he backs up, eyes wide. “Oh my God, it’s the freak! Run!”
All the children stop what they’re doing, making a mad dash for it.
Harry’s smile only grows wider, nostrils flared and forehead wrinkling.
They wanted to play tag! He was so happy!
He stood straight and revved up like a horse about to gallop.
Full speed, he goes.
He runs headlong after whoever’s closest to him, arms flailing wildly as if he were trying to embrace the open sky. He burst into a shrill fit of laughter, a macabre mirror reflecting the worrying, unhinged mania inside.
It wasn’t the innocent look of a child, no. It was the look of one way past teetering the line of insanity.
He gets closer to the girl in front of him, catching up rather quickly.
She keeps looking back at him with snot dripping down her face and loud sobs coming out of her mouth crying “Mommy!”
Her parent must have left her, Harry must help!
He runs quicker, making grunting noise as he pants, determined now. She screams louder.
Stomp, stomp, stomp. He is nearly there.
There is a butterfly!
Harry is distracted, kicking his left leg out too far and face planting into the ground, stick going straight through his jeans and into his leg.
This feeling, this is the feeling of being a warrior!
He lays there looking mad, cackling, seemingly privy to a joke none but him comprehend. He rips the stick out.
All at once, he stops, eyes social distancing and looking in two different directions.
He began rambling, words indecipherable. His thoughts tangled together to form a pathetic excuse of a spiders web. This spider had seen better days. His web was so hole-riddled and mismatched that he would soon starve to death.
Within a split second, he is up, ignoring the growing wound gushing out blood.
And he is off in a mad dash, dashing on hands and feet to God only knows where.
The local parkgoers watch on in a stunned, resigned silence, never having gotten used to the local child who the church failed to exorcise.
They have accepted, for they, sadly, had to live in the same neighborhood.
In the distance, birds fly away scared.