The small black haired boy was pushed roughly into the entrance hall to the public library. "You better learn to keep out of my way" his cousin and his cronies laughed as they walked home.
The small boy crept further into the warmth emanating from the large double doorway in front of him; there was no need to force him into the building of learning. Hairy, as he is called, often found sanctuary in places such as these. He had also found a very good friend as well. One he would have for a long tome, despite the conditions of which he lived.
Arella walked out, the doors swinging closed after her. "You need to stand up to him someday." Hairy snorted in disbelief.
"How do you know where I'm going to be pushed before I do?" his answer was a cool stare. "I'm serious. This is getting creepy."
Arella merely grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the building and started toward her house. "Let's get you cleaned up before they sent the search squad out."
"Ha, they couldn't care less about what happens to me. I'm just the boy who was left on their door step years ago."
"The sad thing about that is the fact that it's completely true." They had reached a small house in the poor district. This hut was the complete opposite of the Dursley's privet, home decorator house. But Arella was too poor, at least that was what Harry thought, and her father couldn't afford anything better. He was already working 84 hour weeks and he never saw his daughter. But to all outward appearances Arella never showed any sign of being lonely or sad or even hurt. This puzzled Harry, he was picked upon by his only surviving family and he hurt so much all the time. The only time he wasn't hurting was when he was with Arella. "Hurry up! Do you want to bleed all over my floor!?"
Harry blushed in embarrassment and quickly followed Arella into the tiny bathroom. "Sorry." Since she had met Harry Arella had started keeping a good stash of medical supplies in the bathroom for those times Dudley decided that Harry would make an adequate punching bag. "Ouch! Keep that stuff to yourself!"
That iodine really did hurt.
"Sorry but I need to clean these cuts. They were really brutal today, weren't they?"
"Yeah, but then again, they would be even harsher if they knew that you habitually patch me up."
"But how do you get by Dudley when you get home? Doesn't he see you?" Arella wrapped some gauze around a sprained wrist. "I mean he's stupid but not that stupid."
"I always use the back door. I don't think Dudley even knows that one exists." Harry looked back and saw that Arella had the smallest smile you would ever see on her pale face. This was a rare show of emotion for her.
"Come on we need to get you home. Who knows? Your cousin might be in need of a home cooked meal instead of the burned mush your aunt makes." Harry groaned.
"Can't I stay with you for a little while longer? Ever since those letters started coming Uncle has been treating me worse that usual. And I'm not even allowed to read the letters!"
Arella threw him a sharp glance, "Haven't been able to read those letters? Not even one!?" Harry nodded. "Look, my advice is to steal one and read it in secret. They are addressed to you right? Then go get one."
"Ok." Arella sent him back to his own little house of torture while she got to work sending letters. To do this she had to replicate the letter she had stolen from his uncle. Then she hired dozens of owls to bombard the house. All except for one though, one she sent with her own hand written note to the headmaster of Hogwarts.
Dear Headmaster,
Harry's relatives have been keeping the letters you and I send to him. He has not been afforded the chance to read any. It is my suggestion that you sent Hagrid to collect him before he is old enough to be a 7th year.
Arella
Tell me how you feel about the prolog, please?
And I also need some ideas for my other fics, so send in some of those too. I will credit whoever's idea I work on or get inspiration from :)