A/N: If anyone is reading this. I've realized I made a mistake with the Weasley's ages. So they're wrong in this. Bill and Charlie are the right ages, but the rest of kids should be a year younger. I've updated this first chapter to change Harry's age to four, but the rest of the chapters will have him as five.
"Wake up boy, it's Christmas!"
Harry rubbed at his eyes, and then stretched. Why were they waking him for Christmas? Usually they let him sleep in because there were never any presents for him. He was sure in his four years he had never received one except on his birthday. He reached his hand up to turn on the light. He peered around the cupboard for his clothes.
Once he was dressed, he turned off the light and opened the door. Just as he was leaving, Dudley ran past and pushed him back inside. Scowling, he stood back up and limped out of the cupboard. His foot still hurt an awful lot; his uncle had stomped on it really hard the day before.
"Good morning," he said when he entered the kitchen. "I'm sorry for being a burden."
For as long as he could remember, he was supposed to greet his family that way. He guessed his aunt and uncle wanted him to make breakfast. Why else would they want him up early for Christmas? He took his chair and shoved it over to the stove. He climbed up on to the chair.
"What are you doing?" his aunt snapped.
"Making breakfast," he answered.
"Not this morning! Learn to listen you ungrateful brat! I told you that I didn't want you making it today!"
Harry climbed off his chair, as he shoved it back to the table; he tried to remember when she had said that. He couldn't remember her telling him that, but he kept his mouth shut. He just sat down on the chair and stared down at the plate in front of him. He hoped they would let him eat that morning. He glanced over at his uncle who was reading the newspaper, and grumbling under his breath.
"I wanna open my presents!" Dudley said.
"After you eat," Aunt Petunia said. "Marge is coming later."
Harry felt his face redden. Aunt Marge was coming? Was that why they wanted him awake? She really wasn't his aunt, but he was supposed to call her that. Usually when she came for a visit, she wanted Harry around so she could talk about exactly what was wrong with him. He sighed sadly.
The kitchen was now full of delicious smells of bacon and eggs. Aunt Petunia put down a plate of toast on the table. He watched as Dudley grabbed three slices. His stomach grumbled loudly.
"Well, if you're hungry then eat!" she snapped at him. "You really are a stupid child aren't you?"
Harry blinked back the tears in his eyes. Normally he wasn't allowed to eat unless they told him to. How was he supposed to know what he could that morning? He reached for a piece and took a bite out of it. He closed his eyes as tried to savour the flavour. Normally he wasn't allowed to eat buttered toast, it was either dry or he didn't get any at all. A few minutes later, she put bacon and eggs on his plate as well.
"What time did Marge say she will be here?" Uncle Vernon asked as he put his newspaper to the side. "Are you sure she doesn't want me to pick her up?"
"Yes," Aunt Petunia answered as she took a seat herself. "She called this morning and said not to worry about her. Said she'd get here on her own."
Harry didn't understand why he was allowed to eat so much, but he didn't question it. He ate everything off his plate. As soon as he was finished, Aunt Petunia put more food on his plate. He stared at her in disbelief before he ate even more.
"Why are you feeding him?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry's unasked question.
"It's Christmas," Aunt Petunia answered. "Believe it or not, he even has some gifts."
Harry looked up not wanting to really believe it. They could easily be lying to him. Uncle Vernon didn't say a word; he just helped himself to some more bacon. Dudley was busy eating his food with his hands. He was already on his fourth helping of breakfast.
After they ate, they went into the living-room. Aunt Petunia played Santa Claus while Dudley and Harry sat by the tree and Uncle Vernon sat in a chair. He was given a lot of gifts that year. He felt excitement go through him. He'd never opened a gift in his life. Usually on his birthday he was handed a broken toy or some other used item... this was different. When Aunt Petunia was finished, he had six gifts.
Harry caught the Christmas spirit everyone else seemed to have and laughed excitedly. He opened the largest gift first, he couldn't help it, he let out a squeal of excitement as he ripped the paper off. Once the paper was off, he found a cardboard box with some words on it. He opened it up only to find that it was empty. He didn't understand. Why was it empty? He opened the rest of the gifts and found that they were also empty.
"What did you get?" Dudley asked who had opened all of his gifts. He walked over and peered into all of Harry's boxes. "Mummy, he didn't get anything for Christmas."
"What do you mean?" Aunt Petunia asked.
Harry glanced over at his uncle. He noticed that he was laughing hysterically and wondered why. He too came over to look into the boxes. He noticed that both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon exchanged smiles before they looked down at him.
"Well, what do you know? No gift for you! Must have vanished. Well, there is no reason for you to stay out here, go in your cupboard," Uncle Vernon said still laughing.
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He left the room quickly. As soon as he was in the cupboard, he started to cry.
A few days later, Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge took the boys out shopping. Harry trailed behind them limping. His foot still hurt an awful lot. His bottom and the back of his legs also stung. He had been given a terrible spanking that morning for tripping over Ripper, Aunt Marge's dog.
He was also told to keep his head down as he had a black eye. He hadn't made breakfast the day after Christmas because he didn't know he was supposed to. His uncle had punched him in the eye when he had sat down at the table. He didn't understand why they couldn't tell him when they wanted him to do something or not to. Sometimes he wondered if they wanted to punish him.
"Let's stop to get something to eat," Aunt Marge said, "but I don't want that thing coming in with us. I'm paying and I don't want to waste my good money on it."
He knew when she said 'thing' she meant him. Harry's stomach grumbled at that point. He hadn't been allowed to eat since Christmas morning. Aunt Petunia took him by the hand and led him over to a small alleyway.
"Just sit there, we'll be back. Don't tell anyone your name or who we are or where we went," she said.
It was almost a relief to sit on the freezing ground; it numbed the stinging feeling in his bottom and legs. He leaned his head up against the building he was resting against and closed his eyes. He wished so much that he could be part of a real family. All he wanted was for someone to love him.
"All right, Bill I want you to hold Fred and George's hands. Charlie, can you hold Ron's?" Molly asked.
All she wanted to do was get out of the Muggle area of London, but Arthur had wanted to go to a few shops outside Diagon Alley. The children were all over excited from eating too much chocolate that morning, even after she had told them not to eat it. She shifted Ginny in her arms.
"They're gone!" Bill said. "They were here, but now they aren't."
"Went that way!" Ron shouted.
Molly sighed, she should yell at Bill, but the twins were six. They understood that they weren't supposed to wander off on their own. They could disappear as quickly as someone disapparating. She and Arthur walked over to where Ron was pointing. They turned down a small alleyway to find the twins kneeling in front of a little boy.
"Found him all by himself mummy," Fred said. "Won't talk to us but he's hurt!"
"Fix his eye mummy," George added.
Molly set Ginny down on the ground and walked over to the boy. Likely he was a Muggle, so she couldn't very well fix his eye. She knelt down by the boy as well. He wasn't dressed to be out in the blistering cold. A pair of frightened green eyes stared up at her. He was very thin as well. He looked as if he hadn't had a good meal in a very long time.
"Where are your mummy and daddy?" she asked him.
"Dead," he answered in a dull voice. "In a car accident when I was a baby."
The rest of her family was gathered around him now. Percy moved forward to examine his face. She realized they were probably scaring at the little one. She was about to tell everyone that he wasn't someone to gawk at when her son let out a gasp.
"It's Harry Potter mum! Look, I can see the scar."
"Harry Potter!?" Ginny squealed.
"How- how do you know my name?" the boy asked as he tried to move closer to the wall.
"All right, Arthur, can you take the children away?" Molly asked.
She could tell the boys didn't want to leave, but they left him with Arthur and Ginny reluctantly. She wondered where his aunt and uncle were. They had obviously decided to spare him the details about his parent's real death.
"Where are your aunt and uncle?" she asked. "Why are you alone in the alley?"
"Uncle Vernon is at work," he answered, he seemed to hesitate for a moment. It looked as if he were trying to decide on a decision. "Er well Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge went to buy breakfast in a restaurant with Dudley."
"But why are you out here? Did you wander off?" she asked.
"No, they told me to stay here. Aunt Petunia told me I couldn't tell people that, but you know my name. So it's okay, right?"
He seemed worried now, as if he had betrayed his aunts. She wanted to know what kind of people would leave a small boy out in the cold while they ate breakfast. She had seen malnourished children; she had also seen abused ones. The small boy who stared up at her wasn't telling her everything. She had a feeling his black-eye wasn't an accident, but she had no proof.
"Where did you get that black eye?" she asked him.
"Oh, erm I-I tripped and um I fell down um the stairs," Harry answered quickly.
"And you hit your eye?" she asked skeptically.
"Erm… yes," he said.
"Why aren't you dressed more warmly? You should be wearing a winter cloak at least," she said. "Come with me."
"I-I can't! You're a stranger! How come you know my name? I told you stuff!" and then he started to cry.
Molly grabbed a hold of him and lifted him into her arms. She rubbed the back of his head and noticed there was a bump there. That wasn't what worried her the most; it was the fact that he weighed less than Ginny. Her daughter was three, and she had always been on the tiny side. She knew from the stories that he should be four, the same age as Ron.
She left the alley to find her family talking about Harry. Ron and Ginny were excited, but the older children and Arthur were worried about why he was there alone. Molly walked over to her husband and told him about her worries and what Harry had told her.
"Wait, let me guess this straight," Bill said. "They are eating breakfast in a restaurant, but they left him out here? It's all snowy mum, that can't be right, can it? Why would they do that?"
"They don't hurt him, do they?" Charlie asked. "Is that why he has a black eye?"
She didn't want to answer their questions. While Charlie was twelve, and Bill was fourteen, she still wanted to protect them from the harsh realities of the world. There was also a chance that she was wrong. Harry was still sobbing into her shoulder.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing with my nephew?"
Molly turned to find a rather large woman clutching onto the hand of a small chubby boy. The one who had spoken was thin and rather horsey looking. She wasn't glaring, at Molly but at Harry. He had turned to look at her too.
"Why would you leave your nephew alone in an alleyway? What if we were abductors?" Arthur asked.
"Maybe you are," the large woman said as her eyes went over all the children, "Although by the looks of them, I guess you aren't. I've never liked red-heads."
"He was a bad boy," the thinner woman answered. "He was being punished; now give him back to me please."
"NO!" Harry shouted. "No please, no don't! They hurt me! They'll hurt me when I go home. Uncle- Uncle Vernon punched me in the face! Please don't make me go home with them! Please!"
"You little liar-" the large woman started to say.
"I don't think he is the liar, he is too light, he doesn't look as if he eats, he has a black eye and he isn't dressed properly for this weather," Molly shouted feeling her rage rupture. "This is Harry Potter is it not!?"
"You told them your name?" the woman hissed.
"No, he wouldn't tell us," Fred spoke up. "We just know cause he has the scar on his head!"
"Yeah! He survived you-know-who," Percy said. "I read all about it. He has green eyes; he has a scar on his head too in the shape of a lightning bolt and he is very famous."
The thin woman's face seemed to pale at that point. Her children understood that they weren't supposed to talk about the wizarding world, but they believed that relatives of Harry Potter's would know about it. Percy didn't know what he was revealing anything he shouldn't, and in truth, he wasn't.
"You- you're some of his lot, aren't you?" she asked. "You're freaks!"
"What is this all about Petunia?" the large woman asked.
"These people, they aren't normal like you and I are. The boy's parents, my sister, she was a freak, and so are these people!"
"Hey! That's not very nice!" Ron said. "Name-calling is bad, mummy says so. Whenever Fred and George call me a name, they get their mouths washed out with soap!"
"We're not freaks!" Bill said. "You just can't accept something you don't understand."
"Can they do funny stuff too?" the small chubby boy asked. "Sometimes Harry does funny stuff and he gets a beating. Do they do it too?"
That was one thing about little kids that some people couldn't understand. They would usually reveal the truth about something that their parents wanted kept secret. Petunia was glaring down at her son, but she couldn't exactly reprimand him. Molly had heard enough, she had heard it from Harry and his cousin. There was no way she was giving the boy back to them.
"Come on, let's go," Molly said.
Arthur picked up Ginny without argument while Percy took a hold of Ron's hand. Bill and Charlie each grabbed a twin and they began to walk away. Petunia shouted for them to come back, but they ignored her. There was no way that Harry was going back to those people. In fact, she planned to leave Bill in charge while she and Arthur went to have a chat with Dumbledore.
"You didn't even want to come into the Muggle world," Charlie said. "Good thing we did, huh?"
Molly wasn't sure what to think of it. Maybe it was fate that had Arthur beg for them to go to the Muggle shops. Maybe it was fate that the twins had wandered off to lead them straight to where Harry was. She wasn't sure; all she knew was that it was very lucky. The child in her arms wasn't crying anymore, but he had his head nestled into her shoulder. He had his arms around her tightly, every once and a while he would let out a small sniffle.