Unimaginable

A young, angelic boy was sitting at a long, wooden, dining table with all of the other kids from the Sunny orphanage, patiently waiting for lunch to start. Pierre, the bully sat right across from him, already eagerly looking around, in hopes of seeing food. He turned his chubby head back and sneered at Harry, "looking gloomy again, Potta'? Maybe you're finally going nuts with your imagination!"

Every child, who sat at the table, laughed at the bully's insult. They've always found it funny, how Harry could connect with his fantasies, making him look crazy. Usually, he would not care. These kids were only boring morons and they were way under him. However today was different. The raven haired boy was already very frustrated recently with the mysterious letters being sent to him every day. He still hasn't figured out, who was sending him those jokes. Although he once though, it could perhaps be one of his bullies in the orphanage, he quickly realized, they were too simple-minded for this.

His hands twitched under the table and his knuckles turned white, lacking color. He took a deep breath, as he looked into his lap, trying to ignore their mean words. Normally he'd have no problem, so why was it so hard this time?

"I bet, he was already born insane," one of Pierre's friends quipped with a stupidly-looking grin, "he definitely got it from his dumb parents!" 

Harry digged his nails into the flesh on his thighs. He's never known his parents obviously, because they died, when he was a baby, but this comment hurt him. 

The caretakers finally brought them tons of food and he watched the kids stuffing their faces hungrily like pigs.

Suddenly, he felt the room go cold, he almost shivered. When he looked at the other children though, none of them seemed to notice the change, instead they continued their banter. Harry looked up, his silky bangs falling back from his face, when he saw a black figure.

The figures looked like an unhuman entity around six feet tall. It was on the ceiling and it's limbs allowed it's eight legs to crawl on the concrete like a spider. It watched Harry cautiously, while it slowly moved closer to him.

Harry got chills on his body, but he knew, it wasn't real. He watched it crawl to him without blinking or flinching in fear.

"Do it, boy! He deserves to get punished," the foreign creature hissed at him, while it's head spinned around slowly. 

It felt, like everything around Harry stopped. His face didn't show the confusion, he felt. What was the creature telling him to do?

"Do it, use your power..."

The raven haired boy looked back down at the kids, successfully ignoring the crawler. His eyes landed on Pierre and he felt anger boiling inside his veins. His hand twitched once again and as if out of nowhere, Pierre started screaming in pain. 

Everyone turned their heads abruptly at the boy in shock and the caretakers ran to him quickly. He hasn't stopped screaming, the sound has only increased, when Harry palms turned into fists with force and anger. He didn't seem to realized, what he was doing. 

Pierre's blood boiled uncontrollably inside his body so much, his skin reddened. It felt, like his circulation stopped and his blood started to form little lumps inside his veins instead. Suddenly the lumps started to harden and go cold until they almost froze. His bones started cracking in random places, as everyone looked at the boy in horror, with no idea how to help.

Harry clutched his chair tightly, when he heard the crawler on the ceiling above him laugh hysterically. It was a cold and evil laugh, which meant no good.

One of the caretakers started calling the ambulance, but Pierre's condition wasn't getting better. The bone in his arm snapped in half and he screamed loudly like a girl. His other bones followed and every single child, who sat at the table pushed away, their chairs screeching. Except Harry. The single child, that had no idea, he was causing all of this, stayed put, watching his bully in desperation.

Lastly, Pierre rose from his seat, his eyes full of blood, which ran down his face. He was barely standing, before his neck snapped and he fell to the ground unmoving. Everyone, even the caretaker, screamed and one of them crouched down next to the boy, leaning down to check his heartbeat. 

A tear fell down from Mrs. Saint's face and landed on Pierre's chest. The woman stood up, trying to maintain a straight face, before speaking, "dead." Her voice was calm but agonizing and she watched their faces fall into terror. 

The children started running away, up into their rooms, yelling and screaming, however the angelic boy stayed once again. He pushed away from the table slowly and looked around at the adults with a face full of innocence. He looked neither scared or okay. 

"Harry, go up to your room, now," Mrs. Saint ordered him and he partially listened, backing away very slowly. He stumbled, but swiftly turned around and grabbed onto the railing. 

"Mr. Potter, go," another caretaker told him with force and tremble in her voice and Mrs. Saint glared at her. She wasn't the most kind adult in the building. 

Before the boy had a chance to respond, the ambulance arrived and pushed him out of the way, running to the dead child, that was lying on the floor with no movement or emotion, eyes bloody and blank. 

Harry fell onto the stairs and looked at the scene in front of him with a strange feeling. He hid behind the stairs, so the adults wouldn't see him and send him away, as he watched. 

The paramedics covered Pierre's cold body and carried him out of the orphanage with a few caretakers following behind.

Mrs. Saint stayed and watched one of her children being carried away, dead. Another tear rolled down her face, when she noticed the small boy behind the stairs. She walked over to him and offered him her hand. "Come here, child," she cooed soothingly.

Harry hesitated, but at the end accepted her help and let the adult take him into her arms. He was looking behind her, while she hugged him, hoping to find the strange creature, which talked to him. Regardless of his trying, the entity was long gone. 

"You weren't supposed to see that..."

He pulled away from her and looked down at the creaky, wooden floor quietly. His face was showing embarrassment and apology, however Harry was not feeling those emotions in that moment. Although he didn't care much, he couldn't show that to the adult, because she'd think, something was wrong.

A strange figure suddenly entered the building through the open door and ruined the moment. They spoke up, "excuse me?" 

Mrs. Saint turned around and pulled the child behind her in fear. She quickly realized though, the person could mean no harm. She asked with a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

The person, a man with a fake smile and twinkling eyes stepped forward. He was wearing robes with tiny moons on it and glasses, which stayed on the tip of his nose. The two thought, he was quite strange-looking. He said, "oh, of coursewe, my bad, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Albus Dumbledore. I came here to speak to a boy called Harry Potter. Is he here?" 

The tall woman slowly stepped away, revealing the boy behind her with a sad face. "He's here," she admitted. 

"Wonderful," the man started with excitement, before he noticed the frown on the caretaker's face. He continued, "why look so grim, madam?" 

She raised and eyebrows and her face showed sadness and a small amount of sass. She replied, "err a boy-...a boy has just died here. Am I supposed to look happy, sir?" She put her arm around Harry's shoulder.

The man's face fell in surprise and shock, but he quickly composed himself. He looked at the boy then back at her, before speaking, "oh, I am terrible sorry for my unprofessional behavior. Forgive me, please. Though I must admit, I am only here to speak to the boy, it's very important." 

Mrs. Saint argued, while Harry just stared at the man, "why should I let you speak to him? What do you want?"

"Very well, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, a boarding school in Scotland. Mr. Potter's parents went to this school and I want to discuss, if he would like to start too. May I?"

Recognition flashed in Harry's eyes. That's, where he's been getting the letters from. Hogwarts...

"Alright, you have half an hour maximum," the woman agreed, still protective of Harry. 

"Thank you, madam," the man said thankfully and looked at the boy again. He spoke calmly, "let's go upstairs to your room Harry, shall we?"

"Don't call me Harry, sir. I don't know you," he responded, as he started walking up the old staircases, Dumbledore following behind.