So this is my first attempt at writing Harry Potter fanfiction and it will be mostly from Harry`s perspective. The first bit is third person and the rest is in Harry`s perspective.

Warning-child abuse , if you don`t like it don`t read it.

Disclaimer-I do not own anything from Harry Potter obviously that is all JKR.

If you like any of this leave a review on what you think. Thanks for reading.

Prologue

Harry Potter the boy who lived. Who defeated Voldemort and left the Wizard Society astounded , stumped on how he overcame the killing curse when great wizards succumbed to the dark intense overwhelming power.

Everyone had different stories ,different perspectives on Harry Potter. How his life was now and how he overcame the Death curse ,how the strongest Wizard was brought down by a little boy and a baby at that. Many believed that Harry Potter was a spoilt boy pampered by his relatives ,who would want for nothing and that was far from the truth.

Everyone knew of the story ,it was published in most history books and was a common bedtime story. Ironically the one wizard not to know what happened, was the boy himself.

Harry James Potter, a forgotten invisible boy who had learnt at a devastatingly too young age that life really wasn't all that great with terrible unimaginable things happening to the boy making him believe that no one truly cared because it seemed that no one did and no one ever would.

The Dursley`s were an odd family but if you were to meet them you would think they were about as ordinary as it could get ,hell you would never guess they were hiding something and especially wouldn't guess the 'thing' to be a ten year old boy. Harry mostly went unnoticed by his neighbours as his reflection and skin colour was almost ghostly .Harry had already skilled the power to stay out of sight, he learnt how to make himself disappear with out physically not being there.

Maybe they didn't seem him because of his lack of height due to severe malnutrition but what ever it was he still remained unseen. Living a lonely life in the shadows with only the spiders in his cupboard to call friends and even then, they left him. It seems they all left him.

His relatives were the worst kind of muggles you could find. They ignored him mostly referring to him as 'boy' he was nothing but a slave cooking and cleaning any job that was simply bestowed upon him, contact was rare to say and the only contact he ever had was pain, unforgettable ,agony that branded his skin , affection was unheard of.

Harry rarely used his voice and when he did he recited the same old anxious airy words "Yes Sir".

"Sorry Sir" and that was about how far it got. Sadly his so called family also neglected his education never letting Harry go to Harry taught himself to do things society would think inconceivable . He learnt how to read and write and was well above his reading age ,although the words always seem to blur together. Yet the words enticed him leaving with an intelligence one would think nearly impossible to be self taught.

Harry had few possessions that being some old tattered literature books ,an old musty blanket, a few of Dudleys over-sized clothes and a small piece of paper hung up in his cupboard reading 'Harry's Room'. The reasoning for that was perhaps the saddest of all, so he never forgot his name as everyone else seemed to forget it and only the lady that screams of 'Harry' in his nightmares were the only reminders he existed.

Then there was the day that gave me hope. I awoke around the same time I always did and if I didn't I always had the same alarm of my whale of an Uncle screaming for me to make their breakfast, which as of course you can imagine wasn't the most pleasant wake up call. Then combine that with Dudley banging up and down the stairs as the dust stuck to my unruly dark brown hair, you could say that well it really wasn`t the best way to wake up but it was the only way I knew.

I sighed deeply at the familiar call as I dangled my emaciated ankles over the old thin mattress which really constituted of two old ratty blankets on top of each other . Slowly I warily pushed my little cupboard door open, relieved it was unlocked .I could cope with the beatings they were expected and predictable I knew when they were coming but no I hated ,despised being locked in , it left you powerless weak and well to be honest extremely claustrophobic.

I walked noiselessly my face blank as I stared emptily at the floor which was an uncommon emotion for someone to have at ten years old I guess , my eyes only seemed to meet the floor these days because the Dursleys didn't like it when I looked at them as it was thought to be rude or a sign of disrespect , they did not want to be reminded of the 'freak' which was me .Silently, again I made my way over to the stove and started preparing their large feast which they called `a light breakfast` which surprisingly wasn`t sarcasm actually I`d be worried if it I finished my first chore of the day I placed it down in the centre of the table ,taking a meagre portion of bread as I knew that was all I was going to get in a while. Only to then be interrupted by a small argument over who would get the mail. To be blamed on me even though no participation was on my behalf was involved. I nodded my head for reasons unknown as I mumbled a meek "Sorry Sir" and then I quickly disappeared into the front garden knowing it was early and the streets wouldn't see me I thought bitterly no one does, not that they be suspect anything , the Dursley`s were far too normal for that .I opened the mailbox curiously and looked at the bundle of letters reading each one and as I came to the last one expecting it to be addressed to Vernon Dursley as they all usually were it was addressed to me?. Who would anyone send me mail?. There was no one to send me mail.

Curiously I checked again looking for a mistake because there must be. After all there was few who knew my name and it really wasn`t a privilege hell when Vernon called him Harry that was when things got bad, or perhaps bad was a slight understatement. I paused hesitantly checking again as it read;

Mr H. Potter

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Tremblingly I slipped the letter into my pocket in my oversized shirt that was once was Dudley`s old t-shirt at seven years old can you believe it?. Although with my tiny frame it can fit three of me in so I don`t think a letter is going to been seen.

I rush inside knowing I messed up. Damn I took too long and Vernon will find any reason to turn his deep rooted hatred into violence, I think he sadistically enjoys it. Can I blame him though after all I am freak and freaks are nothing. Although I don't actually think he needs a reason it's just him and my 'freakish' natures the second he touches Dudley would probably be when the world is ending even then I would highly doubt it even then. Sometimes he lets Dudley take over hitting me and shows him cruel ways to hurt me and it is one of the most humiliating things, let me tell you that.

My shoulders grow tense as I walk rushingly back to the house , quietly opening the door hoping they didn't think any thing was out of the ordinary ,although they would with me. I paused once more wishing I could run off and find solace some how I don't think that's going to happen. I`m not that lucky , definitely not.

Slowly I open the door as the familar voices burns in my ears as vernon so kindly snatches the letter out of my tiny too small shaking hands. Vernon then did one of his usual nods and commanded me ,as he proceeded to once again so kindly put it, to stay in my cupboard . Well at least there are no more chores I thought as I then routinely followed the disturbing familiar steps to the cupboard knowing it would be a while before it would be opened again. As soon as I timidly shut the cupboard door, it was locked and the vent was shut and off view.

Then I stupidly remembered the letter , how could I forget in the first place someone sent me a letter. Carefully I pulled it out of my top and then inspected it throughly as if it was going to attack me It was not some simple letter that always seemed to be delivered to the Dursley`s . It seemed more predominant than that more important , so why was it addressed to me?. Gently I opened as if it was going to disappear . This has got to be a joke probably from Dudley or something although if that was the truth it seems to intelligently put together for it to be him but then once again who would send me a letter I was just harry or boy to Uncle Vernon.

Quickly I skimmed my eyes cautiously over the letter , my jaw dropping the further on I read.

Wait.

What?

No.

A wizard , no that simply wasn't possible . Wizards don't exist , and even so I certainly didn't posses any magic surely . Except from that time I ended up on the roof because of Dudley but that was the wind surely?.

I chuckle slightly under my breath why me all of all people, I'm not a wizard I'm just Harry or boy or any other names that my uncle loves to say. How am I meant to even buy all these things that `wizards` are supposed to own. I mean come on , a cauldron because everyone has one of them around.

Although it's not as if it's going to happen? I mean come on right?. Once they finding out who I am they'll expel me. Once they find out I've never been to school or never been to the doctor or anything regular. They'll be disgusted. Once they find out I`m a freak that I`m a worthless no-body it will be all over and back to the Dursley`s Harry shall go.

I sigh loudly as my hands grasp the broken figurines and attempt to distract myself from reality or Hogwarts or really just anything.

Sometimes dreams just stay dreams. This is just one of those things. It has too be.

6 days.

6 numbing days until I heard the cupboard door open.

6 endlessly dragging days until I saw really anything outside of the cupboard.

6 empty lightheaded days in that time I saw no food although that wasn`t a surprise it happened often enough.

In that time I found it impossible to sleep. It wasn`t just the cupboard or even Uncle Vernon and his scalding foreboding belt or Dudley`s obesity or Petunia`s horse like face. No it was because of a green light and a red headed woman who could only scream `Harry`. It was the same every night her death playing out in front of me ,mixed in with a high pitched meancing laughter that was the most haunting thing to ever come to my ears it put Vernon`s sadistic voice to shame ,easily.

Then it resumed like nothing ever happened I went back to the chores. The same nightly routine happened which mainly consumed of Vernon beating me until I was unconscious whilst Dudley watched find it all oddly entertaining as he said things like `look at that, the freak`s crying` and then mostly decided to laugh or taunt me he was quite predictable to be honest they all were. The Dursley`s were familiar ,unpleasant and normal to some but they were always predictable and everything was routine and heaven forbid if anyone broke that routine. It just so happens I broke the routine when am owl. Yes an owl decided to peck on the window as you find at ten o clock in the morning.

I`m way too cynical for a ten year old, well nearly eleven year old.

Anyway I was brought out of my cleaning from Petunia`s screaming "It`s happened the freaks" as she then proceeded to coddle Dudley`s face sheltering his eyes from the overwhelming `freakiness` of the situation ,as Vernon looked thoroughly digusted. Muttering something incoherently about "expecting it" and "finally ridding ourselves of that boy".

Dangling carelessly on the owls claws was a piece of string connected to a piece of old parchment reading "A member of staff from Hogwarts will be sent in an hour to collect Harry Potter to buy his school supplies from Diagon Alley" it was written precisely in copperplate cursive writing. I tore my eyes from the note to look at Vernon`s face who`s glare was burning into my body and if this was a cartoon you would see the steam come out of his ears.

That was how nearly an hour later I was dressed in Dudley`s best hand me downs that didn`t look too baggy on my skinny body and my face was then covered in some of Petunia's make up to hide the bruises. It was just that moment that Vernon decided I needed a warning. He dragged my body out of the room and out of the Dursley`s eyes as he removed the belt from his trousers.

No, not again I thought.

He then removed my t-shirt from my repulsive small body as the belt hit my skin. Flinching back in the all too familiar pain as the blood began to spill effortlessly out of new wounds as he then slammed it down again the buckle scraping along my back in an agonising ruthless pain. He did that for a further eight times to show my ten painful lonely years on this earth he said. He then threw my body against the cupboard pinning my blood smeared back as he whispered tauntingly in my ear "If I hear that you have told any of these Wizards about any of this you will rue the day you were born boy and I will no doubt about it finish off what should have happened in that car crash" I nodded fearfully as I began to get dressed for the third time today , as I gently threw on my t shirt loosely on my body again covering up the blood that could run through, with another checked shirt. The blood never seemed to spill out for that long. Hopefully it didn`t decide to do that today.

Vernon walked coldly laughing harshly to himself as my pain was his enjoyment. It always was. The only who didn`t like my beatings because they all knew it happened was Petunia. No ,Petunia didn`t care about my pain she was actually terrified that my contaminated freakish blood would stain her carpets and then her reputation as a housewife would be ruined. It wasn`t like she really was the house wife I cleaned the house not her.

I groaned slightly moaning out loud at the pain dancing ruthlessly at my back, my back which was more scars then skin. I looked across and made my way back to the kitchen as I waited some kind of escape from this hell that would only last a few hours but still it was better than here,much better than here.

Anything was in the end.