I do not own harry potter in anyway, I only play when bored with the characters.

The room was dark, tiny, and the scent of mould permeated the air. Despite small size the little room wasn't empty, inside a little child seemed to shrink even more with a small whimper in his sleep as dawn approached. The child wasn't the only inhabitant of this little room, there were hundreds of tiny insects creating their nests in an area that hadn't been cleaned since before the tiny cupboard had received its resident, even the child wasn't free from the filth, covered in mud and a tiny threadbare blanket, markings from disciplines evident on his bare back. This was the cupboard under the stairs where one lonely child had slept for the past 7 years.

There was a click at the cupboard door as the lock was undone and another when the handle was twisted. The door was pounded on with a smooth and soft skinned fist as the tall thin woman connected to said arm, dressed in a pink floral patterned dress, screamed for the boy to cook breakfast. The boy who lived inside the cupboard under the stairs was on his feet in moments moving the blanket at the same time so, that it didn't touch the grimy wooden floor. Wincing slightly at the stretching of scabs on his back the child gritted his teeth, pulling an oversized shirt that had belonged to his cousin until he had outgrown it, over his bare chest and grabbing a pair of glasses before hurrying out the cupboard door into the light not pausing to allow his eyes to adjust to the brightness. The boy had black messy hair and emerald green eyes, which were slightly unsettling; he almost seemed to look into the souls of people who met his eyes. He was unusually short for his age and skinny, his ribs clearly visible to any that would have cared to look, but none had ever before.

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In another location, not too far away there was a woman with the same green eyes and long auburn hair reaching half way to the floor, the man standing beside her with the messy black short hair. The pair weren't short not at all; they had in fact been the tallest in their year. The woman looked down at the photo in her hands bursting into tears seconds later. There was a child in it not old but a mere baby, sleeping in a cot holding a stuffed black fluffy dog. The man froze for a second before taking her into his arms remembering that this was the day that everything had changed 7 years ago, the day that their family had been ripped apart. If only they could trust the wizarding world, if only they could be sure that if they revealed themselves to the old man that he would help them get their child; if he even knew where the child was.

That was a lot of ifs, ones that couldn't be helped without their friends, oh how he missed them the pair hadn't seen their close friends since before their baby was born when they'd gone into hiding. He blamed himself for the attack knowing in his heart that it was his influence that resulted in that rat being chosen, however unknown to him his wife felt the same in that she was to blame for e events. The man stroked his love's hair soothingly hoping that the tears would soon stop.

"Shhh love; we will find him, we will find our Harry. I have an idea about where he could be." The woman looked up from his chest with reddened eyes, and a tear stained face sniffing slightly as she tried to get herself under control.

"Really? ... James, where is he? Where do you think he is?" She asked her voice raw stumbling slightly over the words as she tossed her head moving her long wavy hair out of her face, revealing her ears slightly pointed at the top not small round ones like expected.

The man paused for a moment before answering, knowing that if he was incorrect or if they couldn't find her sister then this may just break her heart. As much as he hated to see his wife and mate hurt he couldn't do it, he couldn't not tell her.

"Your adopted sister, it wasn't exactly advertised that you were adopted and that she hated you; he may have been placed with her, if we can find her we may find him too." The woman frowned, could it be? Could her darling son have been placed with her sister who hated her for no real reason other than jealousy; jealousy that she had magic. It couldn't hurt to try. James had very little family left, could their son have been placed with her adoptive sister because she was thought to be the only family he had left.

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The boy was back in the little cupboard starving, stomach still rumbling. Having gained a whole new set of welts and other marks on top of his old ones; some even covered his face, he would have to be careful to explain it away at school as clumsiness. He had to be strong. If he could only survive until the end of the weekend, where he could get out of the house to his primary school he could have the opportunity to get some food.

It was at moments like these that he didn't even really care that he had to pretend to be stupid in order to get lower grades than Dudley, that he was beaten up in the playground because of his cousin as long as he could be in that class room and learn. He had learned very quickly years ago when he had first started school not to get better grades than his cousin, it was a difficult task with how stupid his cousin was. His cousin could barely add 2+2 or write a sentence; not due to any learning disability but because he refused to learn he would prefer to be at home where his mother catered to his every whim or out in the streets with his friends beating other children up especially harry.

The boy sighed, this day was the anniversary of the day his parents had died leaving him in the care of his aunt and uncle. He had to have been a terrible baby for his parents to have gotten drunk and then in the afternoon driven their car speeding into a bus filled with children excited to be on their way home from school. The worst thing for him he thought, was that there were many children that had been terribly injured and three little six year olds had died. He couldn't really blame his parents, look at him! He was covered in bruises which clearly showed how naughty he was, he could imagine he must have been like a devil as a baby. Why couldn't he be a normal child with parents alive; a child that couldn't do freaky things when he got really scared or angry. Was it in a past life? Had he murdered someone and now he had to see justice?.

Although he always tried his best at completing his numerous chores he always did something wrong. His aunt and uncle would always complain about something, whether it be that the floor wasn't shiny enough, that the grass was too short when a week prior he'd said that it was too long when cut that length. These mistakes always resulted in a beating, sometimes it was for things such as his cousin walking through the mud and walking over the clean wooden floors. He was starting to realise that these complaints were just their way of justifying a their actions. He sighed and decided that he may as well try to sleep, that always helped his injuries. This was another freaky thing that he did but at times, he was glad of it. Although he couldn't tell what time of day it was, sleeping was always a useful thing to do, in that it meant he would be somewhat rested to do any tasks that his aunt or uncle asked him to do.

The boy in the cupboard under the stairs slipped off into unconsciousness rather than sleep, shivers making his body seem to move more than it should. His stomach rumbled unsettled it needed something in it.

Due to this unconsciousness, he didn't hear the doorbell ring just as darkness was starting to fall on Privet drive and the street lamps were starting to glow in preparation for the night ahead. Nor did he hear his cousin yelling to his aunt and uncle that someone was at the door.

Enjoy...