Edited October 6th, 2008.

Harry Potter was not a happy six-year-old. He was never happy. Ever since he had been dumped on the Dursleys' doorstep at Number Four, Privet Drive five years ago, he had never been happy.

Today was no exception. He had finally been let out of his cupboard, which had been a punishment for something he didn't do (and no, it was not homework). He didn't even know how he had turned his teacher's hair pink—it had simply happened.

Anyway, Harry was now free to roam about the house—not that he wanted to, considering the fact that Dudley had his gang over today. Malcolm, Piers, and everyone else… they were all joining in Dudley's favorite sport of Harry Hunting.

So Harry had decided to go outside. It wasn't like the Dursleys would care about his safety, anyway.

Harry crept down the stairs and ducked into the hall, heading for the door. He didn't make it.

"Hey, Potty," Dudley sneered, waddling into the room with his gang of bullies behind him.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, trying to sound brave and failing miserably.

"Come here," jeered another boy.

"And get hit?" Harry retorted. "No thanks."

Dudley's eyes widened comically—he probably wasn't used to getting cheek from his cousin. "Get him!" he yelled.

Harry now knew that opening the front door and running out was useless, so he tried to duck behind the boys and back to his cupboard.

"Are you scared?" Malcolm—or maybe it was someone else—taunted.

Harry, who had paused to listen to what he had to say, was caught. He glared at his cousin, who lazily raised a fist and punched him in the nose. Harry ducked his head, and Dudley's hand rammed into the side of his face.

Harry winced. Ouch, that hurt.

"You're going to pay for what you said," Dudley said, a vicious grin spreading over his face.

Harry felt scared now. He was getting tired of getting beaten up by his cousin. Oh, how he wished that Dudley would be able to get punched in the nose himself. If Dudley experienced a broken nose, he would know that it was not pleasant.

Harry prepared himself for another blow, but it never came. Instead he heard Dudley cry out.

Harry squinted his eyes open and gasped out in shock.

Dudley was sitting on the ground, his hands held over his nose, which definitely looked broken. Blood was dripping over the floor.

Harry couldn't believe it. What had happened?

Just then, Piers called, "Mrs. Dursley! Harry punched Dudley in the nose!"

"I did not!" Harry snapped indignantly, because he hadn't. True, he had wished that Dudley would break his own nose, but he had never done anything to make his wish come true.

Unfortunately, his aunt and uncle, who had come rushing into the room upon hearing Dudley and Piers' cries, did not believe Harry.

"You!" roared Uncle Vernon, grabbing Harry by the collar and shaking him. Harry's glasses nearly fell off his face. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Harry protested, knowing full well that they wouldn't believe him.

"Liar!" Uncle Vernon barked. "That's it! I've had it with you, boy! You've been nothing but trouble from the start, but this is it! Hitting Dudley—I don't know why we put up with you in the first place!"

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Get your things ready," Uncle Vernon said stiffly. "We're taking you away tomorrow."

Harry had never felt so scared in his whole life. Where would they take him? Would he be dumped on the streets? He could ask someone for help, but he highly doubted they would believe him if he said that his own aunt and uncle left him out on the streets to starve.

"Hurry up, boy!"

Harry did as he was told.

It turned out that the Dursleys were not dumping Harry in the streets. They were dumping him in an orphanage, to be more precise.

"And his parents died in a car crash, so he needs a place to stay," Uncle Vernon finished.

Harry had packed his things and followed his aunt, uncle, and cousin into the car. They had driven for miles and miles until they reached a small, run-down building with the words Mr. Well's Orphanage for Orphans written on it in peeling gold paint. Now Uncle Vernon was explaining the situation to the owner of the place, Mr. Well, a cranking-looking man who did not fit his name.

"Yes, we'll take him," he growled.

"Good." Uncle Vernon nodded, satisfied. Then he turned and left, without sparing a backwards glance at Harry.

Harry glanced up at Mr. Well, who leered back down at him. "I don't like kids," he snapped. "So take your stuff and go find an empty room! Some other kid already here will tell you how everything goes."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, sir," he agreed, and picked up his stuff and lugged it toward the hallway Mr. Well was pointing to.

Apparently Mr. Well took this as mockery, because he yelled, "I will not have you miscreants mocking me!"

Harry ignored him and quickly set off down the hall. Some of the doors were opened, and he saw other kids inside. Some of them glanced up at him but never went out to greet him.

He got towards the end of the hall, and a thin girl with reddish-blond hair and blue eyes peeked out at him. "Hi," she finally said after scrutinizing him.

"Hi," Harry responded. "Is there an empty room?"

The girl smiled and nodded. "There's one next to mine," she offered, pointing to the door with the number 26 on it.

"Thanks," Harry said. He paused, wondering if he should say anything else.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass," the girl finally introduced herself.

"I'm Harry Potter."

Daphne smiled before turning back into her room.

Harry entered his room. It was good-bye to the Dursleys forever, and hello the orphanage. He might as well make the best of it.

So, that ends the first chapter! I hope you people liked it, and I'll update soon—please review! Thanks for reading :3

-xAndromedaBlackx-