by Muggle Neighborhood
Surrey
Summertime
He limped along the street, cradling his left arm to his chest. There were tears in his eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness or hurt or any of the usual things for which a boy not yet eleven would have tears in his eyes. They were tears of pure, unadulterated fury.
Turning up the walk in front of one of the cookie-cutter houses, the boy made his way to the door and went inside.
"Oh, Damian!" a woman exclaimed upon seeing him.
The boy did look a right mess. His clothing was torn and caked with dirt and blood, his nose was bloodied and his lip was split, not to mention his black eye and the numerous cuts, scrapes and bruises all over him.
"Fighting, again?" admonished the woman, who happened to be the boy's mother.
"Fighting?" Damian snapped back furiously. "I was attacked, mum! There were seven of 'em. It's only a fight when it's fair!"
"Oh, sweetheart," his mother sighed. "You know you shouldn't rile the other boys. You should try -"
"I never did anything to them!" cried Damian, outraged. "Ever since Bryce saw me do accidental magic and told everyone, they've just hated me."
His mother reached out a hand to try to tend to one of his cuts, but he jerked away. "I'll talk to your father," she said soothingly. "We'll move again."
"Wouldn't do any good!" the boy declared. "Doesn't matter, anymore. Theo says I should be getting my Hogwarts' letter any day, now. I can't wait - once I'm there, I'm never coming back!" He started towards his room, doing his best to hide his limp.
"Sweetheart, you'll have to come home for holidays," his mother reminded him.
Damian whirled on her. "Why should I? It's not like you or dad can protect me!" he stated angrily. "You don't have to worry about me, anymore. I'm gonna go to school, and I'll learn to protect myself. And then, I will make them pay."
Moria Gray gasped, taken aback. The look that gleamed in Damian's blue eyes was unnerving to see in the face of a child, her child. Years later, that same look would still haunt her.
Surrey
Summertime
He limped along the street, cradling his left arm to his chest. There were tears in his eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness or hurt or any of the usual things for which a boy not yet eleven would have tears in his eyes. They were tears of pure, unadulterated fury.
Turning up the walk in front of one of the cookie-cutter houses, the boy made his way to the door and went inside.
"Oh, Damian!" a woman exclaimed upon seeing him.
The boy did look a right mess. His clothing was torn and caked with dirt and blood, his nose was bloodied and his lip was split, not to mention his black eye and the numerous cuts, scrapes and bruises all over him.
"Fighting, again?" admonished the woman, who happened to be the boy's mother.
"Fighting?" Damian snapped back furiously. "I was attacked, mum! There were seven of 'em. It's only a fight when it's fair!"
"Oh, sweetheart," his mother sighed. "You know you shouldn't rile the other boys. You should try -"
"I never did anything to them!" cried Damian, outraged. "Ever since Bryce saw me do accidental magic and told everyone, they've just hated me."
His mother reached out a hand to try to tend to one of his cuts, but he jerked away. "I'll talk to your father," she said soothingly. "We'll move again."
"Wouldn't do any good!" the boy declared. "Doesn't matter, anymore. Theo says I should be getting my Hogwarts' letter any day, now. I can't wait - once I'm there, I'm never coming back!" He started towards his room, doing his best to hide his limp.
"Sweetheart, you'll have to come home for holidays," his mother reminded him.
Damian whirled on her. "Why should I? It's not like you or dad can protect me!" he stated angrily. "You don't have to worry about me, anymore. I'm gonna go to school, and I'll learn to protect myself. And then, I will make them pay."
Moria Gray gasped, taken aback. The look that gleamed in Damian's blue eyes was unnerving to see in the face of a child, her child. Years later, that same look would still haunt her.
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