Food 4 Life Club

                                    

                                          
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**Harry Potter
Barely audible, Harry was humming a hauntingly beautiful song just under his breath. No human of this world, either muggle or wizard, would ever hear it as he had. They wouldn't be able to remember it if they did, much less sing it themselves. Harry was special though. He was something. . . More.
A small smile curved the boy's lips, he was still a young adolescent, not even old enough to get his wings in by the standards of supernaturals and by the standards of humans, not old enough to have lost all his baby teeth. He was very much still a boy.
At this moment, he was feeling rather pleased with himself. He had, after all, just spelled himself to be capable of retaining all the food he'd wished to eat, and it was working to great effect. Even after all he had eaten, he didn't feel the tiniest bit queasy.
Harry had heated and eaten all the leftovers in the fridge, which he had every right to. He'd cooked the food, and he'd worked as a slave for nine long years. He'd then consumed half a loaf of soft Italian bread that he'd turned into garlic bread, two large slabs of sourdough toast with butter and raspberry jam, six eggs scrambled to fluffy perfection, and half a package of bacon, cooked. By now, he had a food baby so large, he looked four months pregnant.
By some miracle, or supreme level of obliviousness, the Dursleys had yet to awaken. Harry had learned that, based on his actions, the charm both he and his toddler self had so loathed had been broken. Nothing was left to bind him into acting normal except his own desire to.
He could be anything or anyone he wished to be, and there was no one on this plane that could stop him. He also didn't have to read the thoughts of those around him if he did not wish to, for which he was very grateful. His fat pig of a cousin, Dudley, had been dreaming he had a girlfriend.
Feeling light as air, he spun around the kitchen. When the honey-like feeling had been coursing through his system, it really had healed all of his injuries. Over the years, Harry had learned that one's injuries tended to get in the way, and that slowly (or not so slowly) drove the bearer crazy.
This morning, he'd found even his scars were gone. Well, excepting his lightning bolt shaped one. That one was magical in nature, and had also been gained prior to his turning to a normal(-ish) child.
The abuse he'd suffered when living with the Dursleys had not really affected his personality as much as it would have with most people. In his situation, he was so altered that his memories were more like remembering a tv show than his own life. Being a different person made it as if the abuse had been done to someone else.
What the Dursleys had done made his blood boil. It was as if they'd done it to a close friend of his, or anyone, really. He hated every person who could do that to someone else, no matter who that someone else was to him personally.
Back to waiting, he thought on how he literally had years of entertainment stored inside his head. He could watch real people's lives, and from different perspectives. It was like movies, except he got to hear personal feelings of everyone and could skip over the boring parts.
There was also the very long list of episodic television shows stored in his head and movies that Lily, his 'mum' had seen as a kid and teenager. But she had bad taste, and Harry wasn't very interested in television.
Of course, there was also magic, which he'd only just begun to tinker with. There were just so many options open to him now! It was positively enthralling, knowing how many things were out there, just waiting for him to explore them.
Harry figured that his Hogwarts letter would be arriving in about six months or so, and that he really ought to be at this address when it came. Harry didn't want anyone to be suspicious of him, and that meant keeping his newfound freedom a secret from the liar, who he rightfully didn't trust a wink.