Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not J. K. Rowling, obviously. This is just my attempt at playing around in that world.

Chapter One: Escaping the Dursleys

"Hey, Potter! Get back here!"

"Yeah!" We only want to have a little fun, Potter!"

A scrawny eight year old boy ducked around another street corner. Messy black hair fell into emerald green eyes behind round glasses, held together with tape. Nervously, he looked behind him. His cousin and his gang of friends had been chasing him all day, determined to beat him up.

He glanced around at the decrepit houses around him, completely unlike the houses on Privet Drive, where his aunt and uncle lived. The sign post on the corner caught his eye.

Spinner's End? But that's no where near Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon is really going to kill me. The boy let out a groan.

The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the street sent the boy climbing up into a nearby tree. He clung to one of the branches, peering through the wide leaves. His piggy cousin and his friends came jogging up the street. The scrawny boy held his breath, praying none of them was smart enough to look up in the tree.

Finally, the group of boys jogged off towards the end of the street. Only when the bullies were out of sight did the scrawny boy breath again. He slowly moved backward, along the branch, towards the trunk. He was almost there when his shoelace got caught on the bark. He slipped, his shoe still hanging on the branch as he fell. An ominous crack was heard as his left arm hit the ground. A few seconds later, his shoe dropped down beside him.

Tears filled his eyes as he realized he couldn't feel or move his fingers. His aunt was going to be furious that he broke his arm. Slowly, he tried to stand up, but with only one hand, it was proving difficult. Try though he might, he couldn't hold back his sobs.

A door nearby slammed open and footsteps came towards him. He looked up, through his now scratched glasses, to see a tall man kneel down beside him. The man had greasy, chin-length hair and a hooked nose, but his dark eyes were filled with concern. He was dressed casually, in a dark green t-shirt and jeans, with battered trainers on his feet.

"Are you alright?" It surprised the boy how kind the stranger's voice was.

The boy choked out, around his sobs, "I think I broke my arm."

The man stretched out his hand, running it along the skinny boy's arm, nodding when the boy flinched.

"Definitely a break," he muttered, feeling the split in the bone. "I'll get you inside where I can take care of it."

The boy nodded, picking up his shoe with his good hand. The strange man wrapped his arms around the boy. He was dismayed at how light the boy was, how easy it was to carry him into a gloomy-looking house.

In the living room of the house, he set Harry down in a comfortable leather armchair. After making sure the boy was comfortable, the man disappeared into another room.

The boy looked around, trying to ignore the pain in his arm and the numbness in his fingers. The curtains were all drawn, making it quite dark in the house and preventing anyone from seeing through the windows. The only light came from a kerosene lamp, flickering on the table to his left. A small photograph rested just beside the lamp.

He blinked and brought his hand up to rub his eyes. He could have sworn the people in the picture were waving at him. In wonder, Harry reached over and picked up the photo.

Two boys stood before a snow covered hill, broomsticks in their hands. The boy on the left had the same greasy hair and hooked nose as the man who had helped him. A bright smile was spread across his face and he was indeed waving at Harry. The other boy was almost identical to Harry, himself, but for the fact that his eyes were hazel, not green. And then there was the fact that no lightning bolt shaped scar was hiding behind his bangs.

"That's your father and I," remarked the stranger, coming back into the room, a small vial and a narrow piece of wood in his hands. "Christmas 1974, actually."

Harry looked up at him. "You knew my dad?"

"He was my cousin. Our mothers were twins," he stated. "I'm Sev. Growing up, I knew your mum, too. She grew up, not too far from here. I don't suppose Petunia's ever mentioned me, though."

Harry shook his head. "She doesn't talk about my mum much."

"No," sighed Sev, kneeling down beside the boy. "I don't suppose she would."

He uncorked the vial, pouring a blue gel into his hands. He smoothed the gel over Harry's arm, numbing the pain. He then pointed the stick at Harry's arm. A white light emerged from the wand, for surely that's what it had to be, flowing around the broken limb. A few seconds later, the light vanished.

"How does your arm feel now?"

Harry grinned. The gel's numbness had faded, too, but there was still no pain in his arm. Experimentally, he wiggled his fingers, his grin widening when they moved. His arm had been completely healed.

"Thanks, Sev!" The brilliant smile on the little boy's face sent shadows scurrying.

Sev nodded, a slight smile on his own face. "I don't suppose you'd like to stay for tea?"

Harry glanced at the clock. Sev was worried to see how much fear filled the young boy's face, even as all the color drained away.

"I have to go. Uncle Vernon's going to let me have it as it is."

Sev gave another nod, biting his tongue. He walked the boy to the door.

"I'll come back and visit when I can, though." Harry made his promise, eagerly. "Thanks, again!"

He watched Harry run down the street, back towards Privet Drive. Sighing, Sev turned back and picked up the photo of himself and James Potter.

"What am I going to do, Griffin, old boy? I can't leave Harry with those relatives of Lily's, but I've searched for eight years and found nothing." He addressed the smiling, hazel-eyed boy. "If only I had known sooner, if only I could have saved both you and Lily."

A thud sounded from behind him. He whirled around. A book had fallen off a packed, nearby bookcase. It had landed, spread open to a page near the end. Sev walked over, intending to put the book back where it belonged. He picked it up, his eyes widening as he read the spell the book had revealed. Placing a finger to mark the spot, he turned to the cover.

"Right under my nose the whole time!" Sev laughed, hard enough that tears came to his eyes. "I never even considered looking in here!"

He sat down in the chair Harry had just vacated and began to study the spell, fascinated.

Only five days later, Harry slowly walked back to Number 4, Privet Drive. He had spent the past two hours over at the cabbage-smelling, cat-filled house of Mrs. Figg. Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley with him, as Grunnings, his drill company, had decided to host a 'Bring Your Child to Work Day.' Aunt Petunia had taken advantage of this to go to a neighborhood 'Garden Tea' one of the neighbors had put together.

Since Mrs. Figg hadn't been invited, she had willingly taken Harry for the afternoon, much to his dismay. He would rather have been allowed to run around the neighborhood, so he could go visit Sev. He hadn't been able to fulfill his promise, yet.

A frown crossed Harry's face as he walked into the house. A small suitcase and a cardboard box were stacked next to the door. His confusion grew even further when he walked by his open cupboard, finding it emptied. The boy continued on to the kitchen.

He found his horse-faced aunt sitting at the table, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She looked nervously over at her companion.

A lanky, stork-like man smiled cheerfully at Harry. A mischievous glint shone in his dark grey eyes. Earlobe-length red hair held a slight wave.

"Hello, Harry," the man stated, his deep voice holding a merry tone.

Aunt Petunia didn't release her tea cup as she turned to look at Harry. "This is Virgil Netherson. He's a distant cousin of your father's. You'll be moving in with him."

"It's taken me several years to find a way to gain custody of you, Harry. Your father and I may have been distantly related, but we were as close as brothers. I'm sorry that the opposite is true for your mother and her sister," commented Virgil.

Harry nodded, dumbfounded. At long last, his wish was coming true. He'd be leaving the Dursleys. But, what about Sev? He couldn't leave without telling the man goodbye. Maybe Virgil would let him stop before they left.

"Well, I think it's time we were off," declared Virgil, rising from his chair.

Aunt Petunia nodded, stiffly.

Another smile crossed the man's face. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Petunia. It was disappointing not to get to meet you at James and Lily's wedding."

He turned and walked over to Harry, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He steered the boy back towards the front door. He paused only to collect the box and suitcase, before striding away. Harry was almost running in order to keep up.

Okay, so this is the first chapter of my attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic. Right now, I already have the first ten chapters handwritten. It's just a matter of getting them typed so I can post them! I am planning on this story covering all seven books. It's just a matter of time.

I'll accept any kind of reviews that are constructive. Please note emphasis on constructive. No flames or anything like that, please!