Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and assorted works in any shape and form

A/N: This will be my first ever fic and I'm hoping that my grammar doesn't become too much of an issue. I'm currently searching for a beta and will update chapters if a find one. Any review even harshly negative is appreciated entirely and any corrections to background or information would be welcome, hope you enjoy!

~ A friendly Kidnapper ~

Chapter 1: A friend for a Hero

Harry awoke to his usual wake up call of banging and shouting on his cupboard door. Courtesy of his Aunt.

"Up, up now boy!", "We're Hungry"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia" he grumbled,

He didn't mind the early starts and he did love to cook, even though he never actually got to taste it himself. The usual grease filled piles of bacon and eggs was his first chore most days in the Dursley's residence.

He'd being doing the breakfast for as long as he could remember, and he always had his numerous burn marks to prove it, ever since he could reach the stove he slaved for the unending appetite of his so called 'family'.

Today was no different, as he dragged himself out of his bed he wondered if it would ever change, his life couldn't stay like this forever surely.

He turned on the hobs and started to fill the pans with sizzling bacon and sausage, he knew however much he cooked Vernon and Dudley would always make sure it got eaten, lest they waste good food on the likes of him. He got the scraps if he was lucky but usually he just ate bread; it kept him alive at least and for that he was somewhat grateful.

As the kettle started to whistle and whine he was reminded there was no rest for him, especially at this time of day.

"Hurry up with my Tea boy, and bring me some food"

His drilled in responses came as he started to move the cooked food over to his uncle at the breakfast table who was practically salivating as he always was for his first meal of the day.

"Coming now Uncle" was his dreary reply.

As he piled the mass of meats on his uncle's plate he suddenly heard the familiar thuds of Dudley running down the stairs.

*THUD* * THUD* *THUD*

This meant the arrival of easily the worst Dursley, Dudley. Dudley was the same age as Harry but due to his endless appetite and spoiled lifestyle he could easily weigh twice that of Harry. He was a typical spoiled bully with no remorse for picking on him, or anybody for that matter.

Harry thought nobody could be worse than Dudley Dursley, least his little crew of bullies that always followed him around for moral support whenever he was beating up some poor child for looking at the large oaf in the wrong way.

As he stormed into the dining area Harry could see he was wearing his usual outfit of sweatpants and a baggy jacket, some of the only items he could manage to fit on from most shopping stores. This did mean Harry got plenty of hand-me-downs due to Dudley's ever increasing size, they were always too big but clothes none the less.

"Morning Dad, Morning Mum"

"Good morning Dear" they both replied in far too much enthusiasm then was necessary. But that was always the case with their perfect Son. Harry often wondered what love like that felt like.

"Harry, where's my breakfast?" he scowled as he noticed his plate was empty.

Without so much as uttering a sigh to antagonise him, harry quickly filled Dudley's plate with a large array of piping hot food thanks to Harry's cooking skills. Without so much as a thank you he started devouring into the food with no delay. It took barely five minutes before the plate had been wiped clean and his attention turned towards the television in the next room.

The Dursley's started to move into the Living room to their constant schedule of TV, this was Harrys cue to start cleaning everything up before he got shouted at, his promptness just earned him a half-hearted grunt from Vernon as he plonked himself in his armchair.

Harry could only sigh at this normality.

Once breakfast was finished and Harry had cleaned everything away he surprisingly got a small break before his next chore, this allowed him to head back to his cupboard and think to himself; what else could he do in a such a crowded and empty area.

As he stared into space thinking about a life beyond the Dursley's his mind kept drifting to his parents. Vernon told him they died in a car crash when was just a baby, but Harry just couldn't accept it for some reason. All he could remember was a female screaming which he assumed was his mother and bright green flash, it hurt his scar to think about it for too long.

Yes, Harry had a most unusual scar located on his forehead, it was the shape of a lightning bolt; and it never seemed to fade. Harry liked his scar, even though it hurt from time to time it was the one of the only things he liked about himself, that and his emerald eyes , it made him feel different; not special, just different.

It was clear the Dursley's hated Harry, he wasn't stupid and knew he would never be welcome here, but what else could he do, where could he go? Harry had learned to keep quiet and he would survive, but there were times when he forgot this, when his hate and rage for his captors would boil over and he could become hostile. He remembered one time when he was being cornered by Dudley and his crew at school, they stopped him in the corridor and started to beat him, Harry tried to run, he tried hide in the corner but his anger took over, before he knew it all five of them were on the floor and Harry was twenty feet down the corridor. He can't remember what happened exactly and got into a lot of trouble when he got home that night.

In their eyes how dare he lay a hand on the prodigal son Dudley. They starved him for several days after that incident but he still thought it was worth it, the black eye he managed to give Dudley was a small victory and Harry would take anything he could. Every time he looked at the mark for the following weeks he couldn't help but smile to himself. Harry thought there might be a small part of justice in the world after all.

Harry's quick reprieve from his prison was broken by Petunia informing him his break was over.

"Get out of there boy, the garden needs attending to".

As school was out it would seem his new expanse of free time was to be spent making sure the garden was perfect in every shape and form for the summer, Petunia couldn't handle the thought of a single weed being present; what would the neighbours say?

After a couple weeks Harry got used to crawling through mud and dirt perfecting the outdoor areas. One positive he found was when he rarely got to work on the front of the house, occasionally a large black dog would appear down the street. The first time the dog appeared he startled Harry half to death, the dog was very large and had unkempt dark black fur, Harry though he must have been a stray as there was never a collar present and looked rugged; just like him.

The dog seemed to take an instant liking to Harry and Harry likewise with the dog; he quickly named him, 'Night', as Harry had never seen anything as dark and untamed as the dog's hair. The thought of the Dogs freedom and adventurous life often brought Harry close to tears.

One day Night even brought a newspaper for Harry to read, he loved it, such a small act of kindness and friendship had never been done for Harry before. Night was the closest thing Harry had ever had to a friend so he treasured the company, he tried to reward the dog by smuggling food out of the kitchen in the hope that Night would turn up, and he always took the risk for Night.

He worked out if he 'accidentally' messed up some area of the garden he could spend more time out the front, anything to see his friend .

This kept him busy and working in the garden till late July, He'd seen Night almost every day now and was very disappointed when it seemed he wouldn't appear tonight, that was when Harry saw a strange man he didn't recognise walking towards him on Privet Drive.

The man wore a long fur coat that somehow reminded Harry of Night, his hair was dark and about shoulder length which blew frantically as the wind swooped over the deserted street. Suddenly the man was even closer and Harry began to worry, should he run inside and call his uncle? Should he run altogether?

The man raised his right arm as he closed on harry and he could see there was what looked like a twig or piece of wood in his hand, Harry thought this was very strange and worried it might be a knife hidden in the darkness.

Now about four feet from Harry the man stopped dead just silently staring at him, almost into his mind he felt himself being searched.

"Can I help you Sir?" Harry quietly spoke, He was now really worried.

All he heard in response was his name,

"Harry..."

That startled him, it sounded strained and sad, like the man had just been crying, and before he knew it that was all he could remember, as he suddenly slipped into darkness as he fell back on the ground into blissful sleep…

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this prologue to my idea of a fanfic, any feedback would be highly appreciated and might help me update the story quickly if anyone is actually interested.