A/N: I shifted the years they were born forward about twelve years cuz I know shit about the eighties and the nineties are better anyways.

31 July, 1997

In the small city of Crawley, England at midnight in a small house tucked away in its suburbs a white light flooded out of the windows of a room on the second floor. In the room was a young girl of about the age of six. She had brown bushy hair, and rather oversized large front teeth. Well it was the room of this girl that the light was flooding from. Actually it was the young girl herself, in particular her eyes.

They were flooded with a white light that was bright enough to illuminate her whole street. Her body was floating, tensed over her small child's bed. The room itself was nothing extraordinary. Just bare green walls filled with more books and cases than one would normally find in a child's room.

As her eyes and room, really the whole street she lived on was flooded with the white light not too far away in a town called Little Whinging a black haired boy now aged five was dragged out of a broom cupboard beneath the stairs and given an early birthday present by his uncle, who was a large fat man with little neck, and a large walrus like mustache.

As he pulled the boy out by his hair the fat man raised his hand which has a large chain wrapped in it. He tethered the boy to a chair after taking the boy's shirt off and pulled up a whip that had broken glass woven into its strands. The boy who was now awake was now sobbing quite diligently. He could guess what was going to happen to him quite soon.

"It's your birthday today boy. I have a little present for you now."

And with that the fat man unrolled the whip and cracked it menacingly. He stepped closer to the crying boy with each roll and soon he was positioned over the small child in front of him.

"This will teach you to be freaky, you little piece of shite. We'll see if your freakiness can save you now you little bugger."

He began to beat the boy continuously on his back for a whole hour while merrily humming the birthday song under his breath in some twisted perversion of celebration. The child cried loudly and piteously but somehow no one heard him nor felt inclined to save him. For a whole hour into his fifth birthday he was tortured by a man he was forced to call 'uncle'. In that moment he wished for nothing more than to join his dead parents as to not bear more witness to this terrible life that was unwantedly thrust upon him.

He had no way to know that soon his silent tears and prayers would be answered. He had no way to know this was the night the world would change. Some would say for the better. Some would say for the worse but it would most definitely change. Quite forcefully too, by two people. Two people who would change the world forever.

Meanwhile in Crawley the girl's eyes closed. Her body was flung back forcibly unto her bed. A small waft of something was released into the air from her mouth. Her body relaxed for a small moment before it immediately tensed again. Her eyes snapped open suddenly as one word escaped her lips.

"Harry."