AN: Hi! So this song, by The Downtown Fiction, began playing on my Pandora (I am not being sponsored) and I just had this little brain child. I am a very cruel person for ending it where I did, especially considering it is a one-shot and has no chance of being continued unless it is adopted. Thing is, I didn't want it to be too long and my mind isn't creative enough to make it any longer. Besides, 1,000 words is good. I hope you guys like it! Also, check out the Facebook (not sponsored here either) page I made, under my pen name. I put up random things I find funny, as well as some updates about my stories.

I have no claim on neither Harry Potter, nor Freak by The Downtown Fiction.

Giada Draven, out!

A young boy, who looked to be about 13, sat on the bed he was given when he had been brought to this dreary house. His black hair hung limply around his head, instead of pointing every which way like it normally does. His green eyes were dull, looking more like pond scum instead of their usual emerald. He was faintly singing a muggle song that he had heard from the radio a few days before he was brought to Grimmauld Place, where the Order of the Phoenix had set up shop. Now, the fact that Harry Potter had heard anything on the radio was odd, since his relatives would never let him listen to the news, let alone the radio. This song was an exception, however, since they told him that it was named after him. The song was called Freak, and he was later informed by the radio station that the band playing it was called The Downtown Fiction.

He stood, knowing that the entire house would be asleep for a good while, seeing as it was only about four in the morning. Harry grabbed his toothbrush, going to the restroom and doing his morning routine now so that he wouldn't have to fight over the small space later on. Living with many women meant you either woke early or waited your turn. After he was done, he went down to the kitchen, going slowly down the stairs so that the creaky steps wouldn't wake up anyone. By the time he had finally made it to the kitchen, it was already 5:15. Knowing that some of those with jobs would get up around six, he began to make a large breakfast and several pots of coffee, all the while still humming.

It wasn't until breakfast was done and on plates that he actually began singing, starting at the beginning of the song. "How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak." Without him realizing it, his lilting voice had attracted the voice of Molly Weasley, the mother of some of his best friends and the woman he considers one of his family. She teared up slightly, hearing the lyrics sung so passionately by a boy she thinks shouldn't have a reason to think that way.

Harry continued, oblivious to Mrs. Weasley's inner turmoil. "Trapped in a box, feeling so small, can't feel a thing. Can't feel at all." He was reminded of his cupboard, and how he was trapped in there daily. "People, they sat, laughing at me, point at my face, call me a freak." The Dursleys shouting at him came to mind, as well as role being called in school and the fact that he believed his name was Freak. As he sang, he put the fresh coffee on the table, surrounded by tubs of sugar and pitchers of cream.

He began the tea as he sang. "This world is not my own, I was meant to be alone. And there is nothing I can do to save me now." Thinking of the school ostracizing him also yearly, he put the kettle on to boil. "How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak." He pulled down the rest of what he needed, pouring his heart into it. Even more had gathered as he unknowingly sang louder, the Weasleys standing behind the door, along with Hermione.

"Feeling so high, up on a cloud, falling to black, back on the ground. Picture my lines, picture my face, won't go outside, want to erase." Harry really did, thinking he was responsible for so much death. Cedric, his parents. Even the old man in Little Hangleton. "These things that haunt my mind, I think about them all the time. There's nothing I can do to save me now. How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak. How many times can you look me in the face, tell me everything's in place, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak. How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine, when I know it's not." He thought of how the professors ignored his warning when things were happening. And how they would look him in the eye while lying.

By now, the entire house was at the door listening. Sirius was teared up, knowing he should have been there. Remus was too, thinking about how he should have tried harder to see Harry. His voice carried, making even the portrait of Sirius's mother listen. "How many times can you look me in the eye, tell me everything is fine, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak. How many times can you look me in the face, tell me everything's in place, when I know it's not. I don't even know what I should say now, I can't speak. I am such a freak." With the ending notes of the song playing in Harry's mind, the door gave out, spilling everyone who was listening onto the floor. The only ones left standing were Remus and Sirius, who had practice at staying in place when the door they were listening at gave way.

Realizing that they had most likely stood there the whole time, he sat down. Harry knew the inquisition would be coming for answers, and he had to give them.