November 1, 1981- Privet Drive, Little Whinging

A crack sounded on the quiet street of Privet Drive. A tall figure, by the name of Albus Dumbledore, dressed in a robe more suited for the 16th century. He lifted his hand and clicked a lighter, but instead of a flame coming forth, the lights of the street were sucked into it. He walked down the street to an immaculately kept property, and greeted a cat sitting stiffly on the wall with twinkling eyes.

"Professor McGonagall, I was not expecting to see you here."

It was no longer a cat he was talking to, but a rather severe looking woman, "How did you recognize me, Headmaster?"

With a small grin he replied, "My dear, I do not think I have ever seen a cat sit more stiffly in all my life. Now, what have you discovered of Lily's family?"

"Headmaster, they are the worst sort of muggles. Their child is spoiled beyond belief and I watched him kick his mother up the street," McGonagall's eyes narrowed in distaste.

"Alas, they are all young Harry Potter has left in the world. Hagrid is bringing him here from Godric's Hollow." The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye dimmed at this admission.

McGonagall eyes flashed and she made to speak, but was interrupted by a flash of light and a roar from above. A huge figure atop an equally large motor bike was descending from the sky, and coming to rest in front of the Professors. The figure was carrying a small bundle sniffling and crying over to the professors.

"He's sleepin' Professors, he don't know his whole world has ended. Lily and James are-" He started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Now Hagrid, Harry is not alone. His mothers sister will take care of him just as her own child, away from the fame and expectations he won't understand until he is older." Dumbledore took Harry Potter into his arms, smiling down at him. He walked up the drive and to the front door, trailed by McGonagall and Hagrid. Dumbledore set him down on the stoop and tucked a letter into his blanket. He backed away with his companions, popping away with an angry McGonagall, while Hagrid roared off into the night. The peace would remain undisturbed until just after dawn when Petunia Dursley's scream would wake the neighborhood.

March 9, 1985

A small child sobbed quietly in the cupboard under the stairs. He had a bruising around his left eye, and blood running from his nose. He rocked his thin body on a thin inadequate mat, hugging himself for comfort. He had asked his Aunt Petunia for a hug like she gave his cousin Dudley, she had sneered in disgust and told him that freaks didn't get hugs like normal children. His Uncle Vernon had heard and thought to give him a lesson for his mistake.

"BOY! Get up!" His Aunt Petunia shrieked, rapping on his cupboard door. The little boy sucked up his tears and came out the door, and was yanked towards the kitchen.

September 2, 1986

"Harry Potter?" The young woman asked a class filled with young children, and a small child slowly rose his hand and whispered "here". She frowned at his size, so much smaller than the rest of his classmates. She shrugged, already calling the next name. Ms. Penny noticed Harry being pushed around by his much bigger cousin, but thought nothing of it. After all, boys will be boys. By the end of the day, Harry Potter would be sent back to his Aunt's house with a note mentioning Dudley being too free with pushing him around, and a recommendation for getting them to play nice. Harry watched his Uncle Vernon turn puce before he was yelled at for getting "dear Duddykins" in trouble on the first day of school.

Harry quivered with joy. He had gotten the highest grade on a test. Now his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be proud of him and smile at him like they did at Dudley. Unfortunately, Harry's test far outshone Dudley's and Vernon screamed at him for cheating and denied him food for a week, locking in the cupboard except for chores during the holiday.

June 12, 1989

Harry was running from his cousin- again. He and his friends had thought it a great idea to start a new game called Harry Hunting. When Uncle Vernon caught them the first time he had laughed and given them tips to catching him. Luckily, Harry had realized that his relatives would never consider him family, so he had to rely on his speed to run from his overweight uncle and cousin, as well as exercise a cunning tongue to get out of trouble with them (he was still working on that). It still hurt to be called freak and to be told how much of a burden he was being. Harry was learning to not allow it to affect him. He knew this treatment wasn't normal. Dudley was loved, and the other children at school had mothers and fathers that hugged them and laughed with them (instead of at them). Yells snatched at Harry's attention, his breath was becoming ragged, but he just needed to hold out a little longer. His plans were thrown out, when he was hit from behind by one of Dudley's friends. He curled into a ball, and tried to ignore the pain blooming across his body. He was, after all, very used to it.