A fine, misty rain drifted down over the rooftops and gardens of Little Whinging, covering everything with tiny drops like delicate beads of glass. The low clouds hanging heavy overhead completely blocked the sun, putting a coolness in the air quite unusual for the month of July. Although the rain could hardly be called a downpour (it was really more like a thick fog), the residents of Privet Drive were doing their best to stay indoors, watching television and cooking dinner.

Here and there, a few cars passed by, off on various errands or returning home so the occupants could leap out with armloads of parcels and hustle into their houses to avoid getting wet. Even in the lightest rain, most people in Little Whinging were highly averse to the visual effect of dampness.

Everyone, that is, except the group that resided the skate park in the rougher areas of the town. A 16 year old boy was grinding along the bench with a skateboard, his hair hung in his eyes with spikes at the top, it was black with tips of blue and silver, his eyes that were once smothered with glasses were green, contacts allowed him to see normally. His build was that of an athlete, his limbs built but not overly muscled though with hidden strength. His stomach was plated nicely, his skin was a healthy pale that contrasted to his dark leather pants and black shirt which read 'Jesus of suburbia' in gothic white letters with a silver celtic cross underneath, a black rose enwined with it.

This boy was Harry Potter aka Jesus of suburbia aka St Jimmy.

Scattered around the skate park were just some of Harry's friends. Orion, a dark haired boy with dark eyes, high cheekbones and pale skin. He was a dark angel with the skating talent of tony hawk. He wore some black jeans and a dark shirt with his nickname on it 'Dark angel'. Sprawled on the wall by a fountain, with graffitti decorating it, was Katara, a firey red head with eyes like burning sappires. She wore a skirt that reached to her knee's, a white tank top with her name scrawled across it in curly handwriting 'Saph'.

Sam was sat on the bench, his dirty blonde hair flopping into his amber eyes, his hands were tucked in the pockets of his dark blue jeans, a black shirt covered his body, on it was his nickname 'Wolf'. John was on his skateboard, messing about in the half pipe, his dark auburn hair was short and spiked with tips of black, his eyes were a dark midnight blue. He was wearing a black shirt with his name on it, 'Pheonix' his legs were clothed with stonewashed blue jeans.

[A/n: Jimmy is Harry and Harry is Jimmy

Jimmy jumped off his board and landed lightly on his feet, he ran a hand through his hair and yawned, blinking his eyes. He winced as his name was screeched. "Potter!" Roared the voice of his uncle. He bit his lip nervously. It was a well known fact among his friends that his uncle abused him. He waved his hand and gave his board to Orion.

Biting his lip lightly, he went to the house, his eyes slightly feral with fright. His inner beast was desperate to come out, to rip his uncle in half but Harry was to frightened. He'd learned a long time ago that he could turn into any animal at will. A wolf was his main form because even his friends new that he stood alone, with so many people surrounding him he felt as though he was stranded on an island.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, as though it could give him release from this hell. He just had time to take a step until a fist blurred his vision, his head snapped left and he stumbled lightly. Vernon was irate, Harry could tell, his face was purple turning a steady shade darker every passing second. Harry blinked and fists rained down over him. It was as though Vernon was angry at him for blinking.

A few minuted of various scraps of physical and mental torture, just as a rib snapped after a vicious kick. Something inside Harry's being snapped, his normally calm emerald eyes took on an pure animalistic rage, his body trembled and he leapt at his uncle. Vernon dodged and Harry landed on all fours, he growled with feral power and made to leap at his uncle again but his aunt suddenly bustled in.

Petunia had always tried to help Harry, she couldnt stop the abuse but she could clean him up and ease up on his chores. She took one look at Harry and he - in a more rational, calm part of his mind (a small bit though) at least - saw a flash of recognition.

She crouched and cried. "Stop. Harry, please." Harry's rage receeded and he backed off, sitting in a shadowed corner while he gathered his strength. He watched as his aunt ferried Vernon off, descretly dropping some medical supplies.

Harry streched with feline grace and grabbed up the supplies, he wrapped a bandage around his chest, the whip was a new one today, it hurt more. He lifted up his trouser leg and tied a bandaged around it, his uncle had stepped on it, making the skin split viciously and causing blood to gush out. He ran a hand through his hair and washed his face in the sink.

The soapy water stung the split lip and made the large purple-blue bruise on his face tingle. He grabbed his Fedora hat off the side and pulled it on his head, hiding most of the bruise. He used some wandless magic to hide the lashes on his back and the split of his lip. His bruise didnt disappear though, they rarely did.

He limped outside and shut the door behind him. He rested lightly on the wall before limping to the town, his head down and his face shadowed. He stopped outside a tattoo parlor and sat in the waiting area, idly flicking through a Metal head magazine. His turn came two minutes later and Harry went into the small room at the back.

A red leather chair was in the middle of the room, a small metal plate full of instruments and different coloured inks. Harry smiled at a heavily tattooed man.

"What do you want and where?" The man named Lonny said, his eyes roaming Harry in a questioning manner.

Harry answered the questions and showed him the sketches he had done. One was a pure white wolf standing on a cliff, his fur as pure white as the moon and his eyes as green as fresh grass, claws of raw silver and teeth the colour of ivory. Another was a black panther, it fur was as dark as shadows and its eyes were an endless black. Swooping in the air behind him was a pheonix, its feathers were midnight blue fading to white and tipped in black, its eyes, talons and beak were black as night. Harry's favourite forms. He wanted the wolf of his right shoulder blade, the panther and pheonix on his right. He picked a design from the list, the picture of a large snake, its black-blue body curled, the blue zigzags that ran up its body matched its eyes, its blood red tounge tasting the air as its slitted eyes watched from the shadows. He put that one on his arm.