Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

In the smallest bedroom, at Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter, aged 5, sat on his bed staring at the walls thinking over the events that lead him to where he was today. Harry knew he wasn't normal; he was… different, special even. The things he could do, his powers magical power apparently, were not something common everyday folk could do.

Harry could Read the thoughts of those around him and he had an almost photographic memory. Because of this he had an extraordinary learning curve. Not many children could speak fluently at the age of 2, nor could they read or write at 3, (though the handwriting left much to be desired). Knowing the thoughts of others meant that it was almost impossible for people like his Aunt and Uncle to lie to him. He knew his parents didn't die in a car crash, he remembered how they died! He could remember every moment of his life but there was a particular moment he would probably never forget.

Harry was tucked away, fast asleep in his cot when his mother abruptly barged into his room.

"Not my Harry! He won't take my Harry!" she said, drawing her wand before slashing it across her palm.

Blood seeped from the freshly made wound, but she ignored it in favour drawing a sigil on Harry's forehead in her blood. The sound of a fight from downstairs could be heard over Lily's low chanting as she waved her wound in violent intricate patterns. By the time she was finished she looked drained and barely had time to register the footsteps coming up behind her.

Turning her head at the commotion, Lily's eyes widened as she threw herself between Harry and the hooded man that crept slowly through the doorway. "Move," came the hiss from under the hood, "and you will be spared."

"No. Not my Harry", shaking her head, "take me instead". Dropping her wand to she would put up no fight. The hooded man indicated for her to move out of the way with his wand but when it became apparent that the woman wouldn't budge or stop pleading, his patience wore out.

A green light later and nothing stood in his way between him and his prey. "You should be honored", turning his attention to his next victim, "Your mother provided the sacrifice to turn your carcass into my final anchor to this world."

Lowering his hood, the reptilian man regarded the now sobbing child with contempt. "To think that a lowly thing like you could ever hope to vanquish me is ludicrous."

As he chanted to himself, the air in the small bedroom became thick with magic. Levelling his wand at Harry, he ignored the blood smudged on his preys as unimportant.

"Nothing will stand in my way! I am Lord Voldemort! Purebloods kneel at my feet, my enemies fear to even speak my name! I am invincible! And nothing will stop me from ruling everything! AVADA KEDAV-"

Harry grimaced, even thinking about it still hurt. He lost everything that day: his parents, his uncles Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail, pretty much his whole way of life. Only to be replaced with his new "family". An Aunt and uncle that treated him like an animal, a cousin that bullied him and a filthy bed in the cupboard under the stairs. Any displays of affection were met with disgust, feats of intelligence did not endear him to them and even doing nothing labelled him a "good-for-nothing sloth, like his father". Most children weren't forced to cook and clean for their family at the ripe old age of 4! He had to hide what he knew, the secrets he saw in their minds. He knew he could get them thrown into jail for criminal neglect and child abuse, but wanted to see if he couldn't coerce them to treat like family first.

Every Saturday night the men of Privet Drive would play poker, get drunk and gossiped into the night. Vernon went for two reasons: A. It was the normal thing to do! And if regular normal folk did it then so did the Dursleys! And B. Petunia craved gossip like a fish craved water. Though, after a few beers the details tended to get a bit sketchy, not that Petunia minded she could fill in her own!

This Saturday night was the night Vernon hosted and in the rush to prepare for the evening the Dursleys had forgotten to lock the cupboard door like they usually did each night. Harry crept up behind the laughing men, smoke from their cigars making the air thick.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked cautiously

Vernon, furious that he had forgotten to lock the freaks door and subsequently allowing him out for his friends and neighbours to see, growled back "What?"

Creeping up to whisper into his ear "Dennis has a flush, queen high but Mark has a four of a kind"

"What are you talking about?" Vernon grumbled

"I can tell you who has what hand and who's bluffing!"

For a moment Vernon looked outraged and Harry feared his plan to get into his good graces were shot to hell, before it was replaced with a look of greed. Schooling his face, he turned to his curious guests "Sorry guys the boys had nightmares. You don't mind if he sits on my lap 'til he can go back to sleep?"

"Does this mean we have to watch what we say around the kid?" one grumbled dejectedly.

"Naw" another replied "I can't remember a single minute of my life at his age. He'll be fine"

"The way you drink, I'm surprised you can remember what happen 5 minutes ago. Marty" one joked

"I'm sorry, how many times have locked yourself out of your car, Dennis. Was it 7 or 8 times?" Marty replied. The others laughed at Dennis's embarrassment. And that was the last that Harry was brought up. Seated on his lap, Harry whispered to Vernon when to raise and when to call. He pointed out who was bluffing and who had a higher hand then his and when to fold so as to not look like he was winning too much, too often. He did this for the rest of the night

The next morning Vernon was sing the boys praises "1750 pounds! 1750 pounds in one night because of this boy!" Vernon said as he grabbed Harry into a rough hug much to Harry's embarrassment.

"Vernon, what if what he was doing was you-know-what" Petunia exclaimed, glancing at Dudley who was busy trying to eat his weight in breakfast.

Staving off an argument before it could happen. "Frank crashed his car last week when he was drink driving!" Harry called out from under Vernon's embrace "He's told his wife that he lent his car to a cousin while it's in the shop getting repaired."

"What?" Petunia said, astonished "but Frank can't afford something like that, not after the renovations to his house."

"Its going to land him in a lot of dept but he doesn't want Martha to find out as this isn't the first time he's been caught drink driving. And Cheryl's homemade cookies, the recipe you've been trying to get for ages, are actually store bought!"

"I have to go tell Susan. Wait 'till she finds out" Petunia rushed out of the kitchen to call her friend and neighbour, all thoughts of arguing gone in favour for relaying the juicy gossip she just learnt.

Progress was slow, while winning favours from the Dursleys got him treated better in the short term, Harry was hoping for more long-term commitments from them. And so every Saturday night Vernon would host the poker night as the winner of the last night's game, never winning too much or losing too little. Vernon claimed Harry was his lucky charm, and the guys were hard pressed to argue with the results.

Every day afterwards Petunia would hear the latest scandal, which would send her spending hours on the phone gossiping with her friends. It wasn't too long before Harry was moved to Dudley's second bedroom/storeroom and given his own clothes. They didn't let up on the chores but had stopped shouting at him if he failed to do something perfectly. They even stopped calling him freak! Though "boy" seemed to have stuck.

Staring at the wall opposite the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't help but wonder what his life would be like if anything, if they would have ever let up or force him to call child services. Sighing Harry got up, walked over to the dusty old wardrobe next to the door and looked inside. A couple of shirts, shorts and slacks hung on the rail from the shopping spree that Vernon had treated the family too. Harry had expected to be forced to watch everyone get new things while but when Aunt Petunia had pulled him aside to get sighting that he couldn't get away with looking like a ruffian anymore, he know his labors were bearing fruit.

Crouching down to Harry drew his attention to the trinkets that lined the bottom of the closet. Second hand books of various genres, an incomplete encyclopaedia set and even a dictionary, were just some of the things the Dursleys had let him scavenge from used book store. Some of the lesser damaged toys of Dudleys including dinosaurs and robots and cars. But it was the book at the very back of the closet that was Harry's most treasured possession yet. A photo album that he had raided from the attic showed pictures of his mother when she was a child.

Flicking through the album Harry couldn't help but sigh.

"I wish you were here Mum", his eyes finally resting on a photo of his Mum and Aunt as young girls, and a black haired boy. Harry's last thoughts before dozing of were "I wonder who that boy is?"

A/N: This is my first fic, please review. I can't close plot holes if no one points them out to me. Fair chance that there isnt going to be any pairings but if not maybe a H/H or a H/L. A lot of this has been inspired by other fics so don't be surprised if you see something familiar.