Hello to anyone Reading this! This is my second self Insert story, but it's Different than other types of Self Inserts You've all probably read. Tell me what you think and If you don't like, Don't read. Disclaimer: I'm not British, Blonde, rich, married with kids...So I don't Own Harry Potter...

'thinking'

"Speaking"

The Wish

I frowned as I read the beginning of the first Harry Potter book for the ump-teenth time. It was always my least favorite part, as I've had strong maternal instincts since I was very young. "That's so irresponsible! Leaving a baby on the doorstep!" I grumbled to myself. It wasn't the first time I'd felt this way, and I doubt I'm the first person who felt this way. I've read a lot of Fanfictions where Harry was abused horribly and neglected.

As a kid, I didn't understand how horrible this was, Not until ninth grade at least. It pissed me off, and made me happy when The Dursley's of those stories got punished or Harry was saved. J.K. Rowling left a huge gap between the time Harry arrived to the time that he turns Eleven. It leaves one to imagine how horrible it must've been when he was 3 or 6 or anywhere in that age range. I held my head in my hands as a headache started to develop for my overly thinking. Some people might think i'm insane for getting so worked up over a little boy who didn't really exist. To them I say, "Fuck You!".

I laid down the book and looked out the window, up to the Moon. 'I wish I could've saved Harry from his life at the Dursleys...' I thought, sighing. That was when a strange green light reflecting on my window. "What the hell?" I muttered, turning around. My book was glowing! I've read enough fanfiction to know what that meant. I hesitantly reached over and touched the cover. If you've every been shocked by an electric appliance, you know how it burns. The way I felt when I touched that paperback cover, I might as well have been standing in a puddle holding a lightning rod. I felt pain that I couldn't even begin to describe completely. It felt as if everything was on fire and I couldn't see anything but white.

The sensation ended as fast as it began, and when my vision cleared, I was on a cold bench, in a small playground near houses that looked vaguely familiar. I groaned, unable to move. It was dark, save for the lamp light. "W-Where am I?" I asked no one, looking around. When the pain dulled I stood up, taking shaky steps. 'Is this Privet drive?' I wondered. A sign on a post verified it for me and I instantly started searching for the dursley's house. I surveyed the porches when my eyes fell upon a basket on the doorstep of Number 4. My heart stopped."I can't believe it..." I whispered, crossing the street as fast as I could. My heart melted as I lifted up a basket containing a small baby boy with a lightning bolt scar and I smiled, turning to look up at the moon. "Thank You..."

So? What do you think guys?