Harry Potter: Don't touch

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***

- Potter, Harry! - Professor McGonagall pronounced.

Numerous whispers began to echo in the hall:

- Harry Potter?

- The Harry Potter?

A minute passed, however no one was going to come out to the Distributing Hat. Minerva had met all sorts of freshmen in her entire teaching career, apart from the brave ones, there were the incredibly shy and scared ones, so she waited patiently for that entire minute. But no more.

- 'Mr Potter, please come to the hat, don't delay the distribution,' Minerva McGonagall repeated, peering intently at the boy in the crowd.

Still no one came out to the hat. Potter was nowhere to be seen either.

Professor McGonagall sighed to herself and, putting on a menacing expression, went to pull the boy out of the thinning crowd of unallocated freshmen.

She didn't find Harry Potter there, though she remembered that he had been in the Small Hall. He had kept a respectable distance and was looking around fearfully. McGonagall had often seen such behaviour in children raised by Muggles, but all of them had successfully passed their placement.

Maybe he had fallen behind?

- Maybe he stayed in that small hall? - Suggested the red-haired boy who had not yet passed his allotment.

'Probably a Weasley,' Minerva McGonagall thought to herself.

She made sure once again that Potter was absent and walked briskly to the Small Hall where the freshmen had recently been standing in front of everyone. She had no other idea where to find the boy.

Harry Potter was found in the far corner, sitting on a bench and thinking about something.

- Mr Potter, all your classmates are already in the Great Hall, why are you still here? - Minerva McGonagall asked.

Harry only shrugged uncertainly and looked at the transfiguration professor with fear.

'He is very worried and afraid,' Minerva McGonagall realised. - 'Scolding him is not advisable at the moment.

- Let me walk you through it,' she said softly.

Harry cringed even harder and then, seeing Professor McGonagall approaching him, opened his mouth and stammered:

- No! I mean... N-don't... I'll... do it... myself....

Harry Potter cast a wary glance in her direction, and then walked slowly towards the doors of the Great Hall. Minerva glanced after him and then followed, keeping a short distance from him, deciding that a special approach was needed here.

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Harry Potter stood at the entrance for a moment, gave the crowd of surprised teenagers a startled look, and walked step by step towards the Distributing Hat.

As he neared the benches of the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw faculties, he heard voices:

- Harry!

- It's Harry Potter!

- What's wrong with him?

The boy stopped abruptly in a panic, his legs filling with lead, refusing to obey. His brain was quickly calculating his options. What should he do? Run and hide? That sounded good. McGonagall quietly came up behind him, took his hand and said affectionately:

- Come on, Harry, I'll walk you out.

Harry's ritual handshake with Piers ran sharply before his eyes. He pulled his palm out and screamed in horror:

- No! Please don't touch me!

With those words, he ran out of the Great Hall without making his way.

Dumbledore was horrified. Hagrid had of course told him that the boy was intimidating, but he didn't think the situation was that bad, after all he had seen and he didn't seem much different from a normal child of his age. However, Harry Potter flew out of the hall with such speed it was as if Voldemort himself was chasing him.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts stood up.

- 'Continue with your allotment, I'll deal with it,' Dumbledore said and walked out of the hall through the same door Potter had run out of.

Why was the boy acting like this? Couldn't Petunia be treating her sister's son badly? Could she really? It seemed to Dumbledore that despite her ostentatious contempt, she loved her sister and certainly wouldn't take out her anger on him. But if not her, then who? What had happened to Harry Potter? And when?

* * *

Really, how did this happen to Harry? To understand this, we need to look at his childhood.

What was the earliest moment of his life that Harry could remember? Potter himself tried to figure it out, but he didn't know exactly. Or rather, he remembered one event from a very distant childhood, but he was treated badly even then. So something had happened even earlier, something that could explain the Dursleys' hatred in some way, but unfortunately Harry couldn't remember it. No matter how hard Harry tried, he still couldn't understand the reason for the hatred. Dudley, in his eyes, was just like him, but was getting a completely different treatment. So, for lack of data, let's start from the last moment Harry remembered.

The thirty-first of July, he was seven years old then. Of the presents he'd received, he'd received two pairs of Uncle Vernon's old socks. And he had so wanted something different. What exactly Harry had wanted, he couldn't remember. Probably some old toy of Dudley's. What happened after his birthday was also hidden in the depths of memory, so time carried forward six months.

The seventeenth of January, the first day Harry went into hospital. Dudley and his company - Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm - had decided to make a snowman, but the snow wasn't sticky and they couldn't make anything out of it. So they enlisted Harry as the foundation. It was simple: Harry spread his arms out and Dudley and Gordon poured a pile of snow on top of him. Dennis got a carrot and a bucket somewhere, and lo and behold they had a perfect snowman. Harry still seemed happy at first that they had decided to play with him, but he quickly changed his mind.

Harry could have died of hypothermia that day, but a couple passing by were interested in the strange snowman. When they found out that there was a person under the snow, they immediately called an ambulance. So Harry got off easy that day. Not so easy, though: pneumonia and a temperature of thirty-nine degrees for a fortnight. But at least he survived...

After leaving the hospital, he was hit for the first time by Uncle Vernon. Dudley told him that he didn't know how Harry ended up a snowman. So Vernon Dursle decided that this was how the boy's oddity of abnormality manifested itself. From that day Harry's affairs went considerably worse. Dudley realised that Harry would make a great punching bag, and Potter started getting beaten up regularly. Neither Dudley nor his friends knew how to do it, but the boy was still hurt and terribly offended.

Moving on. The happiest birthday of Harry's life. The one he remembered, of course. Perhaps when he'd lived with his alcoholic parents he'd had a happier holiday, but either way, he didn't remember it. Then it was turning eight. So why was it the happiest? It was very simple. He was given a cupcake. It was around that time that Harry was beginning to accept that he wasn't going to be treated well, so he realised that the Dursleys wouldn't have given him anything for nothing - it was probably a cupcake that Dudley had refused to eat, and they were sorry to throw it away, and Harry's birthday was just around the corner. Even so, he was glowing with joy and was very grateful to each of the Dursleys.

Harry never ate sweets. It was Dudley who ate everything to spite him. The only sweet thing he got was sugar. Dudley couldn't theoretically eat all of it. But the sugar bowl was monitored, and Harry rarely got to take anything from it, and when he did, he was disappointed - sugar without everything was not tasty at all.

The cupcake, on the other hand, tasted better than sugar. Much more delicious. Harry couldn't even properly describe its flavour, he didn't even know those words yet. That day Potter had divided the treat into many parts and locked himself in the cupboard so that Dudley couldn't take the cupcake away from him, and he had eaten the delicacy one bite at a time all day. He remembered the taste to this day, and he would probably remember it for the rest of his life.

The first happy moment in his life was the last. Things went much worse from there. Harry met Pierce Polkiss.

* * *

It was the end of June and there was a new boy at St Gregory's Primary School, which was where Harry and Dudley went. Harry noticed at once that he looked like him, skinny, quiet, and always looking beaten up. The newcomer had appeared at the end of the school year, and this had discouraged Dudley a little, and for a while he couldn't figure out how to communicate with him, and consequently couldn't turn him against Potter.

Harry quickly figured out that this was his only chance at gaining a friend. At first he and Piers exchanged phrases, then some semblance of communication developed between them. Then one day, Piers called Harry over for a weekend visit. Potter was nervous, he had never socialised with anyone except his cousin and his gang, and it was hard to call it socialising. Having received an invitation to visit, Harry was rushing around the closet with a lot of thoughts. What should he take with him? How to dress? How to behave? Should he bring a present?

Harry immediately decided that he wouldn't get another chance like this, so he brought his best. He put on the white shirt and black trousers Dudley had given him for his seventh birthday. They were his only decent clothes, given to him by chance. Dudley had been given over two dozen presents, and he simply hadn't noticed the tiny bundle underneath his first gaming console.

Harry, on the other hand, had noticed it.

Potter was old enough to realise that what he was doing could be considered stealing, but he wasn't really worried about moral dilemmas, he was more afraid of being found out. At first Harry even wanted to return the present to its place, pretending that he hadn't taken anything, but soon he reassured himself that Dudley would never miss the clothes, he considered such gifts useless. Harry didn't much fancy beautiful outfits himself, but this particular set was treasured.

As a presentation to Piers, Harry took a slingshot. He also treasured it, but he didn't know how to shoot with it, so he got it practically effortlessly - Dudley had planted it on him. He had wanted to frame Potter in front of Petunia, whom Dudley had accidentally hit with it. Harry, on the other hand, had even less stuff then than he does now, so he quickly spotted the extra and hid it properly.

The punishment, however, could not be avoided. Petunia stated that she was still sure Harry had shot her, as no one else could have done it but him. The punishment was worth the slingshot.

And so, at seven o'clock on the evening of the nineteenth of June, Harry stood outside the Polkisses' three-storey house. After standing at the door for a little while, he gathered his thoughts and ventured to press the bell button. The door was opened by Piers.

- Oh, Harry, hi!' he greeted him with a smile.

Piers held out his hand, which Harry shook gingerly.

- Hi, Piers. Here, this is for you,' Harry held out the slingshot and said.

- Thanks, Harry,' Piers accepted the gift and his eyes sparkled. - Wow! Cool!

Pierce liked the slingshot, and immediately began to twist it around and around, and then he began to raise it sharply and aim it at imaginary enemies. Then he came to his senses.

- Let's go to the dining room. Would you like some tea? - Pierce suggested it. - Mum and Dad are away at some conference, they'll be back soon, but for now we have the whole house to ourselves.

- Of course I will! - Harry was delighted.

They drank two mugs of tea each. Potter got himself a tea with some red berries in it. Piers told him it was rosehips. The boy had no idea what rosehips were, so he just nodded. He liked the tea, although there was something 'grown-up' and 'bitter' about it, except that it lacked something to eat. Piers was nibbling on some sort of biscuit along with his tea, Harry wanted one too and spent most of the time trying to make up his mind to ask for a biscuit but never did.

After finishing his tea, Piers invited Harry into his room.

- Listen, I've asked you here for what, I need an assistant to try out some tricks I've read about in an interesting book. Will you help me? - Pierce asked.

- Of course I will! - Harry couldn't give any other answer.

- You'll see for yourself,' said Piers.

They went up to the third floor and entered Pierce's room. There were various board games, books and toys everywhere, but they were neatly stacked, the room didn't look particularly dirty, rather the opposite, clean and tidy. There were two books on the table. Some kind of encyclopaedia about a man with strange pictures and a book with the title 'The Best 100 Board Games of Different Countries'.

Harry had never played a board game, at least not in the time he could remember, and he was only just getting excited that they were about to play when Piers put the board game book away and handed Harry the strange encyclopaedia.

- This book. Isn't that cool? - Piers said with unconcealed happiness in his voice.

Harry tried to understand what was in the book. Some kind of human body structure... Anatomical encyclopaedia? Harry unfolded the cover and read the title, All World War II Torture.

- This one? - Harry looked at Piers with a different look.

- Yeah! My dad gave it to me. He said you couldn't buy it anywhere else,' he said with a lot of joy in his voice.

- What are we going to do with it? - Harry asked with unconcealed fear.

- Oh, I'm going to try a few tricks on you. You don't mind, do you? - Piers explained calmly, as if it were a cup of tea.

Harry looked at Piers in horror. He didn't know what to do. One part of him wanted to run away in a panic. The other didn't want to lose possibly his only friend.

As the more sensible part began to win, he suddenly realised an important thing. So he'd run away now. So what? He'd be beaten and humiliated until he was eighteen, he'd have no friends, no one to say a word to. No, he won't run away. After all, everyone has their quirks. Harry remembered how he had somehow dyed his teacher's hair pink from a distance. He wasn't infallible either.

- All right. I don't mind. Just let's do something as painless as possible, okay? - he decided.

- All right, Harry! I knew you were my friend! - Pierce was pleased. - There's lots of things to choose from: fire, water, sharp objects, psychological torture, and a bunch of other specific ones.

- Um...' Harry thought for a moment, he couldn't swim, and sharp objects... that sounded creepy. - Give me a fire, I've never been burned before, at least I'll know how much it hurts.

- All right. I'll get some matches,' Pierce said and left the room.

He was back in about two minutes, and Harry had already mentally prepared himself for the possible pain. He doubted it would hurt much. Fire never scared him, but rather, even beckoned him.

- There. I found them,' Pierce said.

He went into the room and locked the door.

- So my parents won't see what we're doing,' Pierce explained. - Okay, let's start with the simplest one: I'll light a match and you put your finger to it, but not too close or it might catch fire. Also, the book says you have to be tied down, but since we're just trying it out, I'll just hold your hand.

Piers lit a match and took Harry's hand. Harry, on the other hand, brought his finger up with a little fear. There was no pain yet.

Thirty seconds later, Harry's finger began to hurt badly. And with each passing second, the pain was getting worse and worse.

- That's it! That's enough! - Harry shouted and tried to break free.

Piers held his hand tightly.

- We've just started, it says that a minute should at least pass, but if you want to be quicker...' with those words, Piers brought Harry's finger right down on the match.

Such pain Harry had never felt before. Even all the Dursleys' beatings couldn't compare to such horror as fire.

- A-A-A! - Harry screamed and hit Piers as hard as he could with his free hand.

Piers hadn't expected this turn of events. He only loosened his grip for half a second. But that was enough time for Harry. He yanked his arm out and pressed down sharply. The pain was terrible. There were some bubbles where the burn had been, and the wound itself looked terrible.

- Piers, let's not b-' Harry couldn't finish as someone jumped on him.

It was Piers.

- You bastard! - Piers shouted.

A fight broke out. Harry was winning because he had a rough idea of where to hit so that the person would be hurt and not be able to hit back. Thanks to Dudley for teaching him. After two minutes of fighting, he slammed Pierce's head into the floor and he stopped attacking Harry.

- Open the door! - Harry demanded.

- Uh-huh, I'll be right there,' Pierce said.

He stood up and headed, however, not for the door, but for a small cupboard. Piers turned round, a silver knife in his hand. Harry recoiled sharply, but Piers was quicker. The silver sparkled and blood spurted from Harry's neck in a fountain. He fell to the floor and tried to put his hand over the wound. Piers kicked him in the face. He seemed to have broken Harry's nose, but he didn't have time to think about the aftermath of the kick, he was more preoccupied with the stream of blood spurting from his neck.

- Are you afraid of fire, you bastard? - Pierce asked with hatred. - I'll give you a fire.

With those words he opened the door and ran downstairs. Harry tore off his shirt and used it to cover the wound in his neck. He remembered Uncle Vernon's lecture to Dudley about first aid. When the blood stopped flowing, Harry ran away from the room, but he was met at the door by Piers with a punch to the face. He splashed him with some canister, lit a match and threw it. Harry caught fire. Pierce, with knife in hand, stood at the door of the room, preventing him from leaving it. And Harry, realising with an edge of consciousness that if he didn't do something instantly he would die, jumped out of the window.

* * *

Harry Potter miraculously survived that day. He was saved by two fortunate circumstances. Firstly, the arrival of the Polkiss elders, on whose heads Harry almost jumped. And secondly, the presence of a swimming pool in the house, into which John Polkiss had thrown him, preventing him from burning. Numerous cuts, second and third degree burns all over his body; both of his arms were broken because Harry landed on them during the fall, and the transverse artery in his neck was torn. These are the results of this Harry Potter adventure. As a result of Harry's testimony, a criminal case was opened against Piers Polkiss, but it was almost immediately closed for lack of evidence, as Polkiss' parents refused to testify against their own son.

Harry didn't find out how the Polkiss elders felt about their son's behaviour, but after being in hospital all summer, Harry found Piers alive and well at school. From that moment on, Harry's life became a living hell. It was hard to describe the next two years any other way. Piers befriended Dudley, and together they began to try types of torture on him. Whereas before Dudley and company had just beaten Harry, now they had the brains of the operation. The torture began with a ritual handshake: Pierce, in memory of their first meeting, would forcibly shake Harry's hand, and then begin experimenting. Over the next two years he was drowned, cut, burned, stabbed, stabbed, subjected to some kind of needle manipulation, and kept from breathing for some time.

When all the items in the torture book were over, Pierce's genius was on full display. Harry had the choice of licking Pierce's leg or having his hair set on fire. Harry kept choosing options that didn't include the word 'fire'. He ate worms, threw textbooks at teachers, ran naked after his grandmothers, and many, many other things that came into Piers' head... Basically, he did whatever he was ordered to do. For the only alternative was fire.

By the age of ten and a half, Harry had a panicky fear of people and fire. All the time he either sat in the closet or ran away for the day into the woods, which were only a mile away. Harry had the hardest time at school, because there were so many people there. Harry stayed as far away from everyone as possible and tried not to touch anyone. Soon Harry realised that the presence of people could be tolerated, as long as they didn't touch him.

That was how Harry's life went until his eleventh birthday. It was both a terrible and a happy birthday for Harry. It was horrible because Harry was getting a lot of letters, and he had learnt a long time ago that if someone was trying to contact you, you were in trouble. But at the same time Harry Potter was happy. He hadn't been tortured for three days now, and he and the Dursleys had left Tees Street together. Which meant that until they got back, no torture should be expected, as Dudley without Piers would only be able to beat him up, ha! So the further Vernon drove away from Tees Street, the happier Harry became. And even the presence of three people close by seemed unable to worsen his mood. However, at night Harry Potter was about to experience an event that would change his life once and for all.