Hello everyone out there. I know a story like this already exists, but sadly has not been updated in a long time. I loved this concept so much, that I asked the original author permission to write my own version the story. So before anyone accuses me of stealing, just know that I did ask if it was alright to write this and they gave me permission to do so.

I will be taking my time with this story and will do my best to make it enjoyable. I'm still reletivly new to Wander Over Yonder (still watching episodes in sporadic order), but I've gotten some of the basic elements of the show (especially the second season) and I've been a big fan of Harry Potter for most of my life. Heck it was the book series that gave me confidence in reading and writing in the first place. So let's quit wasting our time and get right into the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter or Wander Over Yonder. And the original concept for this story was not created by me, but by Shadow the Ranger. This version is being made with their permission.

Chapter 1: A Life in Hell

Hell.

That was the perfect way to sum up young Harry Potter's life. For as long as he could remember, he had lived in his own version of Hell. What kind of Hell was this you may ask? The kind where you're treated no better than the insect you swat as it pesters you, or the vermin that one would crush under their foot. No matter how hard he had tried over the years, he couldn't pull himself out of this life of misery.

For the past seven years, the poor boy had been forced to live such a life all thanks to the relatives he had been forced to live with. For as long as he could remember, he had lived in this suburban home in Surrey on the outskirts of London, England. His room, if you could call it that, was nothing more than a small space underneath the house's staircase which at one time had been used for storage. His cramped quarters was nothing more than a small space with a mattress and sheets, a few knick knacks that his aunt and uncle had allowed him to keep and a box full of books.

This was the only life he had ever known. Ever since he had been old enough to start doing physical labor around the house, he'd been forced to do almost all of the chores around the household. Cooking, cleaning, even tending to the lawn and other outdoors venues around the house. The thought of everything he had to do on a daily basis just made his blood boil. Then again, what could he do? He had no place to go and no other relatives to live with.

Even if he had managed to get out of the house, there was no place for him to run to. No parents, no friends, no other known family members that could possibly take him in. Not even random people on the street would be able to help him out. After all, he was a freak. And who would want to help out a freak like him?

At least that's what his Aunt Petunia had always reffered to him as. She had told him that his own mother had also been a freak and so had the man she had married. The only things that young Harry knew about his parents were their names and that they had died in a car crash when he had just been an infant. The very same crash had left a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead which did ache from time to time. He also knew that for the most part he looked a bit like his father, having inherited his father's jet black hair. The only big difference between Harry and his father had been his emerald green eyes, which according to his aunt were very much like his mother's. The only kind thing his aunt would ever tell him.

Whenever Harry did try to ask for more information about his parents, his Uncle Vernon had simply told him to stop asking and it was left at that... after swatting Harry on his head.

Vernon!

Every time Harry thought of his walrus of an uncle's name or every time he heard the man's voice, the young boy's anger would just flare. His snarky aunt was one thing, but at the very least all that the kid had to worry about from her was her constant belittling. His uncle however took things a step further by physically punishing the boy.

Whenever something seemed to go wrong in Vernon's life, he always some way to blame Harry for it.

It didn't take much to set Vernon off. If he had a problem with his car, it was automatically Harry's fault and Harry would find himself being whipped and then locked back in his cupboard. If a mess was made in the house, it didn't matter who was truly at fault, it was always Harry that was punished for it. The worst part was that Harry couldn't even cry about it afterwards as that would just get him into more trouble.

He could recall a few instances where he had involuntarily cried out when he was being whipped and all it resulted in was the blows to be even harder than the ones before. Harry knew that the reason was to keep the neighbors, especially that nosy Mrs. Figg across the street, from peeking in on them. Harry was sure that Mrs. Figg knew though as she was constantly watching him and the Dursley's from the safety of her own home across the road. That thought too burned more anger into Harry's mind. She suspected what was going on, but she did nothing to stop it.

The worst of all though was his piggy of a cousin, Dudley. The two were only a month apart from each other in age with Dudley being older, but Dudley was easily twice Harry's size. Part of it was because Dudley was given more to eat than Harry. Dudley was allowed to eat almost anything that he ever wanted, while Harry was given bare minimums. Didn't help that his aunt and uncle heavily spoiled the boy, giving copious amounts of gifts whenever his birthday rolled around, while they never even acknowledged Harry's. The only reason Harry knew when his birthday was, was because of records that had been needed for school.

School was another matter, it was the only place outside of the house that he was allowed to go to without the rest of the family. Sure sometimes they'd take him with them to a number of other places and these were the only things he looked forward to as it meant that he wouldn't be physically beaten during their outing. But as usual, if something happened while they were out he'd naturally be blamed for it and this would result in another whipping at home.

His school life was just as bad as home life. His cousin had made sure that everyone there would view him as a bad kid by spreading filthy rumors about the boy and even enabled him at times to make him look worse than he truthfully was. Not to mention his teachers didn't have a bright enough view on him as he wasn't even allowed to do better on his schoolwork than his cousin. Anytime Harry displayed the fact that he was obviously more intelligent than his cousin, it would result in his usual punishments.

Thankfully there was one thing Harry had to look forward to at home and that was the books.

After the cupboard had been converted into a room for him, the only thing that they hadn't thought to remove were some old school books that Vernon had kept from his college years. They thought Harry would have no interest in the books so they had just left them, but given the large amount of time he had had to himself, they were the only things to keep him preoccupied during his imprisonment. One thing that his schools had done right was teach him how to read and reading these old books taught him a lot about how things on Earth had operated and all this knowledge at a young age and made him more aware of his surroundings and sharpened his mind.

But there was one particular book that had captivated him the most.

It was a book on astronomy and every time he opened it up to read, his interest in the stars and everything beyond them left him wondering. Wondering if there was life beyond the stars that he could see. Wondering if someone out there could actually use someone like him. Wondering if someone could use a freak like him.

And nowadays in his eighth year of life, he didn't even have to wait to be released from his cupboard prison in order to see the night sky again. One evening at the age of seven, in the dead of night, as he had channeled all of his fear and anger that he felt towards his "caretakers", he suddenly found himself, not locked up inside of his cupboard prison, but in the den of the household instead. He wasn't sure what had happened, and a second attempt yielded lackluster results as it had only resulted in him tripping over his own two feet. It wasn't until he heard the other residents of the household waking up that his fear manifested itself and a second attempt had sent him back into the cupboard, leaving his vile aunt and uncle none the wiser.

With a little more practice, he realized very quickly that it was his emotions that drove this newfound ability. As the nights passed, he practiced his ability each night and easily got the hang of it. His fear prompted him to teleport away from place to place. And soon he found himself teleporting to the very edge of the neighborhood itself. Then finally one night, he found himself in the streets of London. He still wondered how far how could travel if he really wanted to, but even this was beginning to frighten him and decided it would be best to save it for emergencies purposes only. Most of the time he simply used to teleport to the roof of the house and gaze up into the night sky.

He knew he couldn't leave the Dursley's because he had no where else to run off to, so he was forced to endure this place he was forced to call home.

Truth be told, a life surrounded by fire and molten rock with the wails of doomed souls sounded like a more ideal place to reside. It certainly sounded better than this place he was currently forced to inhabit. This vile excuse for a household and a family.

His own personal Hell.

So I know that not a lot happened in this chapter, but this is just the prologue. Next chapter is where the real story should begin. Next chapter is not going to be a happy one, in fact it might get a bit brutal.

The actual crossover portion of the story won't even be happening until chapter 3, so sit tight and we'll get there in due time.

I do want to give special thanks to Shadow the Ranger for allowing me to create this story. I hope you enjoy.