Potter

I watched him on one corner of a busy railway platform. His broom in hand, a wild look in eyes and his wand somewhere around.

He does have scars. Not one but uncountable. Yet I couldnot help but notice his innocence. Suddenly a smile played on his lips. Someone was coming. A large bearded figure could be seen from a distance. Was it Hagrid?

Ahh! the look of freedom in his eyes say so.

“Your admission is done, now you don’t need to sweep platforms. You can go to school. For free”

Those words were like music to his ears.

Get up you asshole! Who is going to feed you if you don’t work?

His mother yelled.

Potter was on his way to sweep off another day with his broom

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