Yada yada yada, we all know none of this belongs to me, do I really have to say it?
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Prologue
A young boy with brilliant green eyes and shaggy black hair watched his cousin and his friends from a window covertly. Inside the public library he was safe, his cousin Dudley would never set foot in one, and he'd already learned the value of knowledge, even if he was forbidden to do better than his cousin.
The boy was turning 7 years old this summer but in reality he looked little more than 5. If one looked closely they could see the fading bruises, the ragged clothes, and the wary look in his eyes that a child his age should never have. But for all that, the boy was much more unusual than even he knew.
Harry James Potter, known to his 'family' as boy, or freak, had been left there when his parents had been killed by Albus Dumbledore, and he was a wizard. But what he'd learned in life so far was that knowledge was power, to never trust adults, and never trust after betrayal, and more importantly, he knew how to play the roles he was given, to hide who he was to survive, forcing him to grow up much more quickly than any child should. Yes, Harry Potter was certainly an unusual boy.
