Disclaimer: Not mine, no money is being made off of this and all recognizable characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and subsequent copyrights and publishers.

Author's Note: This chapter is written from Harry's POV if that's not readily discerned. A note to those out there, I am an AMERICAN. I will use words and phrases that are popular within my circle of friends.

Also this will likely be slash, you know, gay. I haven't decided how it will pan out, the plot is still evolving.

On to the show!

~*~ Prologue~*~

They say that everything happens for a reason. Well some days I think that is true, other days it's a complete load of crap. I know what you're thinking, he's just a kid how could he know anything? Well this kid has seen more than anyone can imagine.

It started when I was just over a year old. This murdering fuck head of a half breed was after me and my family because of half a prophesy made by a fraud and reported by a traitor. Half of a prophesy isn't really anything seeing as a whole prophesy is worth about as much as dirt. But this guy was a real psycho, cracked in the head I say.

But as I said, I was just over a year old. So there we were, celebrating Halloween, as you do, and along comes the murdering fuck head. Kills my dad in a fight at the door, kills my mother while she's standing over me trying to protect me from the evil shit. Well you know what he did? He laughed. So I guess it's true that you can't have slaughter without laughter. Really, what a horrid statement; makes me giggle.

So you want to know what the murdering fuck head does next? Oh you are going to love this, he tries to not only kill me, but make me part of his quest for immortality. Sick isn't it? But lucky me; the curse doesn't work. Rebounds off the protections of love my mother left me, or so says the world's leader of the Light Albus Dumbledore. Fat load of horse shit if you ask me.

No it rebounded off my head because I'm a new or old, depending on how you look at it, breed of wizard. You see wizards didn't always use wands, and most around the world still don't. I know the Americans don't use wands. That would be a little conspicuous seeing as they are paranoid about terrorist and anything that is suspicious is watched for like a hawk to a mouse. So they use magic differently then we here in the United Kingdom and Europe as well I suppose seeing as Durmstrang and Beauxbatons teach the same curriculum as Hogwarts does.

So yeah, different kind of magic; it's not that it's really different I guess. It's more that people don't understand it. I've always done better at using magic without my wand. Hermione and I worked long hours every night to make sure that I could stand up to the pressures of being the Boy-Who-Lived. Hours spent mastering a charm or spell wandlessly so that I could perform it while waving a wand around.

Ron and I, well after I learned a bit about the Wizarding world, we well came to an agreement. We would be friends in public, because every hero needs a sidekick, and I would make sure he got to do whatever it was he wanted in life. It didn't matter what it was as long as it didn't make more work for me; so he couldn't join the Death Eaters and becoming the next Dark Lord. Other than that his options were open.

I had a different agreement with the Weasley twins Fred and George after the Triwizard tournament though. I give them money, and they keep me informed of the local gossip. It was a win-win situation.

So where was I, oh yes. Murdering fuck head killed my parents and attempted to kill me. Well Dumbledore, the high and mighty who can do no wrong, decided I would be best with my mother's sister, Petunia Dursley. Well he didn't take into consideration the fact that she, and her twisted husband, hated anything that wasn't "normal" and please, anyone could have told the wanker that I was as far from normal as it got. So thanks to Dumbledore, I grew up a freak. But that's nothing. That's just what Dumbledore was able to find out; you see the Dursley's were far worse than just treating me like a house elf and psychologically and emotionally scarring me. Oh no, that couldn't be the end of it no. Vernon Dursley, if anyone had bothered to do their homework was a sex offender. His prey you ask? Little boys, skinny, scrawny, little boys that couldn't fight back against his massively fat ass.

I think that's one of the reason's he married old ugly Petunia; because she was the closest thing to a boy he could get and still ensure he could procreate. Delightful, no?

By the time I was eight, I was my uncle whore, by the time I was ten he was making money off me, selling me to his buddies. By the time I entered the Wizarding world I was used to my lot in life and didn't fight it anymore. I knew it was wrong, but talking about it only got me starved and beaten. It was easier just to take it like a man.

My uncle's favorite phrase by the way, it was like a code. If he used that phrase I knew, without a doubt that he was going to take me down into the basement and play his twisted little games with me. His favorite was the lay me out, tie me down and then video tape himself as he raped me, as he had me suck his pathetically tiny prick.

My sick Uncle always made me choose, a beating or his prick up my ass. The sex hurt less and was easier to hide. I learned that the first time a teacher asked me about the bruises. They never asked again, and I never said anything; at least until Hogwarts.

My first week was an interesting one. No one ever informs you of routine procedures, like heath exams, when you are entering a new school. No they tell you about the things they found scary or had been made scary to them when they entered the school. Which is exactly what the Twin's did to Ron and thus Ron did to me.

So when all the new first years were called down to the infirmary by house for a routine health check, that's when I panicked. I tried to get out of it, saying that the Dursley's had gotten a physical done for me but Madame Pomfrey, she's a sly one. Somehow she already knew that there was something wrong. You see, she waited to do my check up until last. I also want to point out that I had also already had Professor Severus Snape for Potions class by the time the check up's came around so it was a huge surprise to me when Madame Pomfrey took my test results and told me to wait on the bed because she needed to confer with the sour professor. Needless to say, I was very confused at that point. Not only that but I was terrified. At eleven I wasn't nearly as candid about the situation as I am now. I never would have guessed that in just a few minutes my entire life would change and everything that I thought I knew was wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed!