Destiny:

Warning: This FF is rated T for beating, violence, and other stuff. Don't yell at me for that because it will not make me have a revelation and change the story. Flame if you feel the need, but keep in mind that none is forcing you to read this ff.

Rating: Rated T.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! Happy? I own nothing. Period. There might be a teacher or student that you don't recognize: I own them but I own nothing else. J.K Rowling does own everything else. Care to rub it in more?

Note: I can't spell check this story. It is impossible for my stupid computer to spell check this story. Please don't ask if I can spell check this story. Thank you very much everyone!

"Boy! Get out here!"

The roar echoed threw number 4 private drive like a foghorn. Harry Potter gave a small squeak of terror as he anticipated what was to come. He curled up in a ball in his tiny cupboard nest, trying to protect as much of his small, 10-going-on-11-year old body as he could manage.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE FREEK!" His Uncle Vernon roared again. "I HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU FOR YOUR FREEKY 11TH BIRTHDAY!"

The little boy said nothing in reply, not totally convinced. After the hell that had been his life for the last 11 years, 11 months, and 12 days (he was miserable enough to count it all up), he was hardly expecting so much as a 'hello', even today. He wasn't bitter though. He always believed everything happened for a reason...

"Come get it!" His Uncle taunted in a sing-song voice from outside his door.

Harry made no move to get up, or acknowledge the man at all. He knew it was no present, what was about to occur, and he would postpone the moment as much as he could before it happened.

"INGRATE!" His Uncle roared after waiting about 10 seconds. "I'm coming to get you then!" and so her wrenched the door open, and dragged him out. Harry didn't protest. He assumed he had done something to deserve this.

"This-" He hit Harry over the head. "will-" he hit Harry in the stomach. "knock-" he kicked Harry in the knees. "The freak out of you!" he took a belt from the coat hanger near him and proceeded to pound him indiscriminately all over the young boy's body.

Harry Potter made no sound. This beating was regular-practically daily- ever since he was 4 years old. The first year he screamed. Screamed like hell at that. But Vernon merely beet him worst the louder he was. So after awhile he went quiet...

Now he was being subjected to it worse-since it was his birthday... 'Happy Birthday to me" he though hopelessly. His Uncle was always drunk. All the time. And when he was drunk, he took it out on him. Simple and clear. If you didn't believe him, the scares all along his back-and the rest of him for that matter-proved it quite clearly.

"Get out of my sight!" Vernon roared, kicking the broken boy into the cupboard, and slamming it shut behind him as he wobbled out of the room to throw up in the bathroom.

"Ouch!" he hissed quietly as he nursed his new injuries. That was worse then normal. The beating had lasted for at least 20 minutes. Then again, he had deserved it, he convinced himself. He didn't know why it was his fault, but it must have been. Why else was his life like this? He must have done something horrible.

'None deserved to live like this unless they had done something horrible' he thought to himself, pulling out a picture of a very pretty women and a handsome man holding a child between them. The child was him. He had figured that he was the baby a while ago.

He thought a lot actually. He was very smart for a boy of 10-going-on-11 that had had no schooling in his life. He had learned early on that he had to take care of himself.

None else was going to.

He sighed and put the picture away. 'I've got to go to the park' he though suddenly. He opened the cupboard door a crack to see if he could sneak out without attracting his drunken uncle's wrath.

He could tell it was nearly night-time. The sky was darkening, and it was cold outside. He pulled the old, ragged coat he wore close toward him as he dashed out the door.

He didn't notice a figure standing in the shadows of a large tree, yards away from him, who had seen the whole beating. He didn't notice the figure shake her head, and follow silently behind the boy, taking care to make sure none noticed her.

"Poor little Harry" she whispered to herself, gliding after her young quarry.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way..."

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