Convicted

Twentieth May Nineteen Ninety

"The child has been abused his entire life your Honour. As you can see from the police report and forensic report; the child was living in the cupboard under the stairs and the amount of blood residue found was off the charts! Also, with the way the Dursley's were murdered, considering the amount of physical damage done to them, I have a medical and a physics report detailing all the reasons you need to prove why it is, in fact, impossible for my client to have committed the crime."

Harry was bored. The men in the funny robes talked too much. He understood one of them was defending his actions but Harry didn't want to be defended. He was proud of what he had done. He didn't understand why people wanted him to keep quiet and say nothing. They gave him chocolates and ice creams in abundance so he obeyed them. It wasn't like anything they said or did would affect him. He had the void. At present, he was making the void stir up a wind in the hot and fully packed Courtroom.

He turned his head lazily looking around and spotted a tearful Dudley on the other side of the room. A man in a suit holding his hand.

"We have a confession your Honour! The boy admits to have killing his Aunt and Uncle who did nothing but give him shelter after his own parents died in a car crash."

"Shelter where systematic abuse took place? Have you forgotten the nonchalant way Mr Dudley spoke of the punishments my client endured?!"

"The medical reports say the exact opposite! The boy is in good health. If on the tiny side. He has no broken bones, no scars except the one on his forehead which he got in the car crash!"

"Are you forgetting the room," the man defending Harry sneered. "The room full of blood. Full of his DNA. Scratches in the wall. One blanket. One cot. A corner full of his wastes! A lock on the door? You call that nothing?!

"Your Honour! I plead for this case to be dismissed and my client be given the care he so desperately requires!"

Harry played with the void. Nobody could see it except for him. It was almost invisible except for the distortion of space when he drew it out of his body. He made shapes out of it and giggled when it touched the defender making him jump.

The defender looked around, saw nothing and turned back to the judge.

Both men started shouting and murmurs began to grow from the crowd who had come to watch the trial of the boy who had committed the horrific murder of his relatives.

The Judge banged his hammer and shouted for Order.

"The Court will take a 10-minute break while the Jury makes a decision."

Harry yawned. He let himself float into the void. It was no longer a place of retreat. It was a home. No senses. Only peace and absolute silence.

His mind drifted back to the past, the few moments in Privet Drive that had truly fascinated him. It was a Sunday and he was dusting all the curios and photo frames that were carefully positioned all around the living room and a movie was playing on the telly. There was a man on a horse laughing while another man staggered under the force of a brutal heat in the desert. He was fascinated. The man on the horse held such power over the other and when he mockingly offered a drop of water, the half dead man glared with such defiance and it made Harry feel like he was looking in a mirror. At that moment Harry knew, he knew the half dead man had what it took to survive! He tried to recall all the little bits of images he had of the man. Blonde hair, blue eyes, withered skin…

Suddenly the window in the void called for his presence.

"Harry James Potter," said the judge sternly.

Harry blinked. Ten minutes had passed quickly.

"I don't know if the reason for you silence is trauma or the instructions of your Lawyer but after considering all facets of this case and the findings of the Jury I have no choice but to sentence you to 8 years and 2 months in a Juvenile Home reserved for the mentally ill.

Harry's lawyer groaned and part of the crowd cheered and the rest shouted in outrage. "There goes my bonus for the week," he grumbled under his breath.

"I am, however, willing to reconsider if you open your mouth and tell the Jury and your side of the story," he said sternly.

Harry thought back to the day he had killed his Aunt and Uncle. Unleashing his rage on his Uncle, fulfilling a fantasy as he sliced his Aunt from ear to ear. Harry looked up to the Judge. "I wish Dudley were there too," he said with a sigh. His voice was soft and velvet. It made shivers run down the Judge's spine. "I really wanted him to watch what I did."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

July Thirty First Nineteen Ninety One

Harry had fallen into a comfortable routine at The Janus Home for Criminal Children. Physical exercise at 5:00 am. Breakfast in the morning at 7:00 am. Education at 8:00. Library duty at 12:00 pm. Lunch and meds at 1:00 pm. Meet Psychologist Beverly at 2:00 pm. Education at 3:00. Physical exercise at 6:00 pm and Dinner at 8:00 pm. After that, it was lights out at 10:00 pm.

The first day some older boys had tried to hurt him at night but the void had taken care of that quick. By the end of the week no one dared touch him or even talk to him and that was the way he liked it.

The wardens had watched him like hawks watching prey but Harry never did any of the things they associated with criminal kids. Especially one who had brutally murdered his relatives and orphaned their son.

He kept to himself, poured over books on evolution and survival, made no friends, followed the routine given to him to the letter. He met the psychologist on schedule and never said a word. He spoke to no one except the time when Beverly had asked him how he liked it at Janus. Harry had smiled and said peaceful. And to him it truly was. He had all that he needed. Nutrition. Peace. Shelter. The Void. He had almost grown to feel attached to Janus but the lack of stale environment and the lack of a feeling of wildness put him off.

The only thing he obsessed over throughout his time at Janus was evolution. The concept of survival of the fittest truly fascinated him.

Rumours flew around about him. But one thing everyone knew for sure. There was not a single boy in Janus who was not scared of Harry Potter; Crazy Harry they called him. Even the new comers, those with huge egos and cruel streaks, gave a wide berth when Harry came walking along. It was his eyes they said. A sudden gleam of pure insanity that promised a journey to hell if they crossed him.

The Wardens didn't know why, but something strange always happened to those who tried to bully the scrawny boy. It was never a good strange.

Today was a strange day for Harry. His routine had been broken. Instead of meeting Beverly and giving her the silent treatment, he was to meet a Professor from a school for the gifted. Said professor was waiting in his room he was told.

Harry scowled. He hated his routine being interrupted.

His room was on the third floor of the five story dull square building. It was a big enough for a cot, cupboard and a steel commode attached to one corner. The ceiling was quite high and a long stem of steel hung down with a creaky old fan attached to it. A window with bars was fixed opposite the door and it overlooked an open sewer.

When Harry entered the room, his scowl deepened and the void responded to his ire. There was someone already sitting on his bed. It was a wrinkled old man with a long white hair and a long white beard. He was wearing ridiculous purple clothes that looked like a dress and had a star buckle holding a belt around his waist. The end of his beard was tucked into his belt and he was wearing a pointy black hat that made him look even more ridiculous. His shoes were clown like; red with pointy tips.

Taking in the sight of this odd man who looked like he was pulled out of a cheap comic made his ire disappear. This had to be a joke. Maybe the man belonged to one of those mental homes. Similar to the one he was supposed to go to until his last words at the trial a year ago.

Harry stared at the man and the man smiled back.

"Harry Potter," he said softly. "It is good to see you looking well."

The man waited for some sort of response but true to what the Teachers, Wardens and Doctors had said. The boy almost ever spoke.

Harry narrowed his eyes. The old man looked somewhat familiar, now that he had looked him over. He was there at the trail, except he was wearing a proper suit then. Harry wondered why he had come as a clown to his room. Didn't they say he was from a school for the gifted? He was beginning to doubt the validity of this meeting.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Have you heard of it?"

"What?" Harry couldn't help it. His soft voice rasped out the bewildered 'what' and he stared at the old man like he was bonkers. This meeting was getting stranger by the second.

Dumbledore smiled.

"You heard me and I'm sure you know what I mean. You didn't think you were the only one in this world around whom strange things happened did you?"

Suddenly the old man wasn't so clownish anymore.

"Has anything strange ever happened around you? Apart from the murder of your relatives I mean."

Harry scowled. Did this man know about the void?

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I can see from your expression you know what I'm talking about. Good. It makes my job easier. To put it simply, you're a wizard Harry."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. Albus Dumbledore supressed the shiver that threatened to run down his spine at the soft voice. There was something strange about it.

"Is it really so unbelievable? I can feel it you know. Your magic. It's quite strong for a child your age."

Harry narrowed his eyes. The man definitely was talking about the Void. So it was magic? He liked calling it the void better.

"What do you want from me?"

"So you can make sentences," Dumbledore joked. "I was beginning to get worried."

Harry scowled again. The old man was beginning to annoy him.

"You have a place in my school Harry. Your parents, who were a witch and wizard by the way, enrolled your name when your were three months old. It will be your home for seven years, until you're ready to join the magical world as an adult."

Only one word entered Harry's mind and he latched on to it hungrily. "My parents?" he whispered.

Dumbledore shuddered inside. That voice. It had a strange quality. There was magic infused in it. The boy radiated magic like no other person he had ever seen before. He had given Harry to the Dursley's to prevent his fame from affecting his growth and instead, he had literally handed the most famous boy in the magical world to monsters. In return, they had made a monster.

Strangely, though, the boy did not have any desires. His brief trip inside the boy's mind had revealed horrible memories of the Dursley's treatment of him and also the glimpse of the strange relationship the boy seemed to have with magic. It almost felt like the magic in him had a mind of its own. The boy was damaged, that was for sure and the reason he was willing to take him to Hogwarts was because he saw no deliberate malice in the boy. He was quite happy to be left to his own devices. He was dangerous when pushed however and that was something Dumbledore was going to keep an eye on.

"Yes. Your parents. They were attacked when you were one year old by an evil wizard and then you were sent to relatives for safety."

Harry chuckled at the thought of his relatives. Their mangled bodies flashed in his mind and he smiled broadly.

Dumbledore ignored that disturbing smile and continued. "They fought to keep you alive."

The thought of someone fighting for him changed the smile. Suddenly it wasn't so disturbing anymore.

"Would you like to come to my school?"

"Is it peaceful?" Harry asked. He liked peace and silence.

"To an extent," Dumbledore said carefully, "yes."

Shelter and the Void. Both in a new place where he could learn more about the void. "I'll come," he said resolutely. He loved learning about the void.