This started out as a re-write of my story 'Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts, Merlin help us.' From almost three years ago, but has sorta mutated into something else... not sure where it's going, not sure if I'll even add anything, just hope you enjoy. I didn't use a beta, and I'm pretty sure most of it won't make since, but oh well.

Chapter 1: An Owl a Letter and a Stone… (Re-write)

As far back as Harry could remember his birthdays had always been, odd… Now, having grown up with an Aunt and Uncle who, (For whatever reason) had hated him, this was to be expected, but a few of them had always stood out to Harry.

On his fifth birthday for example; his aunt had errands to run and left him and his pig-like cousin Dudley, with their neighbor Mrs. Figg. Somehow she had found out that it was Harry's birthday and decided to bake him a cake. Then, strangely enough, the minute she lit the candles the entire cake caught fire. In his defense, Harry had tried to tell her he that didn't like red velvet…

On his seventh birthday, Harry, in the span of four hours, managed to start a fire in the kitchen (who knew fridges were so flammable?) turn his Uncle's hair blue, and almost cause international crisis with his Uncle's American business associates. (Though the last part was mostly Dudley's fault.)

As time went on, Harry began to realize that he wasn't exactly 'normal'. He could do things that his cousin could never even dream of, he would accidentally make things float, or disappear, he could even make things explode on occasion. And if that wasn't enough there seemed to be a strange amount of people who kept wanting to shake his hand. And so, on his eighth birthday, when Harry was home with his Cousin and a babysitter, he decided to show Dudley what he could do. You see, the two boys had never really spent much time together, but they didn't hate one another. Besides, Since Harry didn't really have any friends, who else was he going to show?

They had been playing in the backyard while Mrs. Figg napped in one of Harry's Aunt's lawn chairs. Harry pulled Dudley to the ground in front of him, then Harry focused all his energy on to a small blade of grass in between them, and the two boys watched as it slowly caught fire. Dudley was so amazed that they spent the next hour burning anything that Dudley could find.

And that was how Harry's uncle found them, at least fifty small burn marks littered the yard around them. Harry had never seen him so mad, he yelled at him for a good half-hour while Harry stared past him at towards the house. He hadn't meant to, honestly, it just... Happened. Right before his eyes, Harry watched his Uncle's house catch fire. Mrs. Figg ran (More like hobbled) to her home and called the fire department, but it was two late, half the house was already blazing hotter than any natural fire would have. It was only later that they found out the there had been three unknown men seen snooping around by neighbors just before the fire. The police suspected arson, but Harry knew better, and so did the Dursleys.

With their house burned down, the Dursleys had to rebuild it from the ground up, It took almost a year for them to be able to return, but when they did It was almost the exact same as before, as was the neighborhood. Though, at some point Mrs. Figg had moved away without telling anyone. All in all, things were better. The Dursleys weren't nicer per-say, but Harry didn't get yelled at as often and they let him have what would have been Dudley's second bedroom, though Dudley himself began to avoid Harry altogether. In his loneliness Harry began having to find different ways to amuse himself, such as saying odd things and talking to different objects and animals, to see how other people would react. Harry found that it gave him eminence joy to mess with people, even if most of it was just for show.

That being said, you can imagine his surprise when on Dudley's eleventh birthday, while Harry was pretending to talk to a snake at the zoo, it actually replied! The two of them had a good long talk about Brazil, that ended with the snake being free, while Dudley and his friend Piers took her place in the tank. Which was funny at first, until Harry looked over at the beet-red face of his Uncle. That was it, thought Harry. Almost three years of peace, gone. There was absolutely no way that he was getting out of this one. Harry braced himself for the telling off of a life time, when, to his relief, of yelling, his uncle calmly found an employe and freed Dudley and Piers. Not saying a single word to Harry, in fact, he didn't speak to Harry the entire car ride home, or for the next few weeks. Neither did his aunt or Dudley, at least until the letter came.

It was early July, a few weeks before Harry's own birthday, when on his way home from a walk when he noticed an owl of all things, following him. It was very odd as Harry couldn't recall ever seeing an owl around there before, but there it was, a chubby grey barn owl, that had perched itself on a near by fence, just staring at him. Not knowing what to do, Harry stared back, this small exchange of staring lasted for a while until the owl held out it's leg, upon closer inspection, Harry found that there was a white envelope in the clutches of it's talons.

"For me?" Harry asked.

The owl blinked it's golden eyes, and released the letter into Harry's open hand.

"Thank you," Harry said, and watched as the Owl flew away.

Looking down at the letter in his hands he read the address, then carefully broke the wax seal, and pulled out two pieces of paper, the first read;

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. H. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

Harry stared at the paper in his hands with one thought, 'What on Earth is a Supreme Mugwump...' then, read the next one. It was just a list of supplies and things that made no since. Harry placed the letter in his shirt pocket then, ran the rest of the way home and straight up to his room, not even bothering to greet his Aunt or cousin.

A Wizard! Harry thought, 'I'm a wizard.' Harry's mind was racing with a million different thought all at once, 'How is this even real? And a school? How many are there... Does Aunt Petunia know? That's it! She has to know! Is she a wizard to?'

Realizing that he should probably ask her before Uncle Vernon came home from the dinner party he was attending, Harry went back down to the dining room where his Aunt was working a jigsaw puzzle.

"Hey Aunt 'Tunia." Harry said, sitting down across from her.

"What." She asked, eyes never leaving her puzzle.

Harry took a deep breath, 'Okay,' He thought. 'This is it, ease into it.'

"Are you a wizard."

'Nailed it.'

Silence.

Petunia raised her head to look him in the eye.

"What."

"Are you a wizard."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," Harry said, pulling the letter out of his pocket. "This letter came for me."

"Let me see that." She ripped the paper out of his hand.

Harry watched as she read, noting her eyes widening, and her face growing paler and paler. And finally when she was done she raised her head to look at him, then she opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came, she closed her mouth and swallowed before trying and failing once more to speak. Finally seeming to find her voice after almost three minutes of fish mimicking, she told him to go to his room, and that he was to forget all about the letter.

'Like that could happen.' Harry thought.

Still, not wanting to risk her previously dormant wrath, Harry left the dining room and headed back up the stairs and into his room, shutting the door behind him.

'Hmm,' Harry thought, plopping down onto his bed, he pulled a small black stone out of his pocket. Thinking about the events that lead to him possess it, a boy he knew years ago name John Nygma had given it to him once after he swore he saw Harry float his lunch, told him the stone was 'Magic' like him. He'd kept it as keepsake, a privet joke of sorts, now he wonder if John had known, what he was.

"Can you talk?" He asked it turning it over in his palm. "It's okay if you can't, not many people want to talk to me... Not that I mind..." He went off to tell the little stone everything, all about the letter, and any 'freaky' things that had happened to him, he talked so much that he didn't even notice as the hour hand ticked by on his watch. At some point he was drawn out of his one sided conversation by a knock on his door, not even having time to reply before Dudley entered, holding two soup bowls.

"Er- sorry, Mum wanted me to tell you we'll be eating in our rooms tonight..."

Harry nodded, still gazing at his little rock. Dudley sat one of the bowls down on Harry's nightstand then made way to leave with the other, but stopped short.

"Harry, who were you talking to?"

"Rocky." Harry replied. Holding up the stone for his cousin to see.

"Oh." Dudley said, peering down at it, then instead of leaving he looked around and asked; "Can-Can I eat in here?"

Harry sat up, "Why?"

Dudley shrugged. "Don't wanna eat alone, Dad just got home, him and Mum are fighting again."

"Ahh... Well then, Mi casa es su casa." Harry said, spreading his arms out.

"...Right." Dudley replied sitting down on the bed next to Harry. "Um, Harry?" He said, staring down at the bowl of soup in his lap. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Harry told him, picking up his own bowl and the spoon that was resting in it.

The two boys ate the rest of their dinner in silence, Sitting side by side on Harry's bed, after they had finished, Harry found himself dozing off, and at one point he felt Dudley get up and take the bowl from his lap, then disappear for a moment before coming back and removing his glasses and flipping off the light, as Harry curled under his bedspread.

"For what it's worth Harry," He heard Dudley say quietly as he pulled the door to, "if you ever want to talk, I'll listen."

Soon, Harry drifted off to sleep, dreaming about a bright green light and a strange man in a cloak, hissing at him, he chase Harry down a long corrador until they came to a closed off gate, with nowhere to run Harry faced his pursuer.

"Time to die, Harry Potter." The hooded man hissed, raiseing a wooden stick. "Avada-"

Harry Held his arms up to protect his face, but found that his hands were on fire, in a split second desion, Harry shoved them in his attackers face. The hooded man screamed as his cloak caught on fire and he crumbled to the ground. Harry woke up with his heart pounding in his chest, and sweat covering his face, without a single memory of the dream.