I know its been a while since i've written anything serious, but I thought i'd give it another go. This is a Harry Potter fic and it falls heavily in the alternate universe category. More will be made apparent as I publish more chapters. Meanwhile as the disclaimer goes: All Harry Potter properities are owned respectively by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Inc. and Warner Bros. I claim no intent to make a profit for this story, this is purely for entertainment purposes and to get rid of an idea that has been working its way into my brain for a while.

Prologue

It came as a total shock to him as he first opened sorted through the post that morning. Who would have the gall to send him a letter. Not that he knew many people, but there was something very strange about this particular envelope, almost like a subliminal suggestion that he put it into the back pocket of his pants and hide it from his relatives. He'd open it later.

All this went through the mind of Master H.J. Potter, otherwise known as Harry to those who knew him, which was only a certain few, and that included his primary school teacher as well as his oaf of a cousin, his hog of an uncle and the crane that was his aunt.

True to form, he handed the post to his Uncle, who was reading the paper before heading off to work, glancing over at his aunt, he noticed that she was doing something strange with an old school uniform.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"You'll be heading off to Smeltings, along with Dudley here soon. Unfortunately, you'll have to wear his old primary school uniform since you won't be getting a new one."

Many times, he would take these comments and situations, like getting Dudley's old hand-me-downs, being denied the healthiest portion of dinner, and getting decent birthday and christmas presents, with a grain of salt, but the salt was already stinging an open wound that had been festering for the past ten years.

The past ten years had been nothing but a paultry excuse for an upbringing. Often he had wondered who he really was, aside from his name, and the fact that he wasn't the son of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. All the indicators of who he was were the initials and the last name that was on his baby blanket that he kept in that little cupboard under the stairs where he slept, H.J. Potter. Many people figured that the "H" stood for a common name like Harold, Henry, Hector, Hudson, and Hyatt to name a few. It was Vernon and Petunia, upon reading a letter from an unknown person that fateful night nigh on nine-and-a-half years ago, who knew that his name was Harry, and that he was an orphan, the son of Petunia's "freak" of a sister, Lily and her "freak of a husband, James.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley kept the true identity of Harry's parents a secret for the longest time, only telling him that they had died in a car wreck when he had mentioned dreaming about them, and seeing this sickly, pale green flash. When he had mentioned this, Harry had been ushered into his "bedroom" and told that he would remain there until he got the notion of the sickly, pale green flash out of his memory.

Harry had remained there for nigh on a week before he was allowed to leave for primary school, which started up the next day. He had gone in on a Sunday, and had been let out on a Sunday. Vernon and Petunia, knowing that the body needed to deal with waste after nutrition had withheld food purposely, apart from water, which they knew was essential for living and allowed him to only head to the bathroom under the supervision of Vernon, who made sure that "no funny business" went on during these excursions.

Harry had had to put up with this kind of life for nine years and he felt like there was no end to it. Knowing that his parents were dead on top of the anguish that he was put through at the hands of Vernon and Petunia, on top of the beatings that Dudley and his friends gave him, had forced Harry to grow up and mature well beyond his ten physical years.

Turning away from Petunia, he told Vernon, "I'll be tucked away in my cupboard where no one knows I exist."

Vernon, still engrossed in his paper, merely grunted acknowledgement and nodded his head in the direction of the cupboard. Dudley, for some reason, thought it strange that there was something sticking out of Harry's pants pocket, but when his program returned on the TV, he fixated his eyes on the screen and forgot what his cousin was doing.

Harry, now tucked into his cupboard, pulled out the letter and discovered it had been addressed precisely where he lived at Number 4 Privet Drive, the Cupboard-Under-the-Stairs.

Upon opening the envelope, which had a rather peculiar seal on it, he discovered another envelope inside this one as well as a letter. The letter read as follows:

Dear Mr. H.J. Potter,

We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into Hogwarts Institute for Magical Development and Mastery. Enclosed within the second envelope is a letter directly from the headmaster of the institution as well as a book-list for first years starting their studies at our illustrious school. Also, please inform your relatives and/or guardians that you will need to be at King's Cross station in London on August 31 to board the Hogwarts Express. Also enclosed is the ticket for the train as well as directions to get into Platform 9 ¾. We look forward to having you attend our school.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall,

Transfiguration Instructor

Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts Institute

Harry re-read the letter three times, just to make sure that he was reading it right. He wondered what Hogwarts Institute for Magical Devleopment and Mastery was, but he soon would be finding out. He opened the second envelope and discovered three different sheets of parchment. He sorted through them, finding the enclosed letter from a Professor A.P.W.B. Dumbledore as well as the book list. Strangely enough, there was a third letter in there as well, this one coming from a Professor Skye Winderider. The book list detailed all the texts that would be needed for the upcoming school year as well as supplies for first year students, which included a class-two cauldron either coal black or pewter grey, dragon-hide gloves for a specific class called Herbology, and magical focusing device, described as either a monocored wand, a magical focusing gem that could be imbeded into a ring, pendant with a necklace or a quarter-staff.

Picking up the letter from Professor Dumbledore, Harry hoped to find some clarification as to where he would find all this stuff. He was not at all happy with the contents of the letter, which simply said.

Dearest Harry,

It seems like only yesterday that I held you in my arms as I placed you on the stoop of Number 4 Privet Drive. I hope you have been enjoying these past nine years. I am looking forward to having you as a pupil at Hogwarts this upcoming year.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts

So now he had someone to blame for these past nine years, this Dumbledore idiot. It wasn't until he read the second letter from the second envelope that he had a clearer understanding for what was going on with the book-list.

Mr. Potter,

Allow me to introduce myself, albeit in a round-about way as I write this letter. I am Professor Skye Winderider. I am the NEWT level instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts as well as the head of house for the Gryffindor Lions. I am correcting a rather egregious oversight on behalf of my boss, Professor Dumbledore as well as my fellow instructor, Professor McGonagall. You've probably read the letters that they have sent, the standard letter signed by Professor McGonagall is welcoming you to Hogwarts so that is self-explanatory, but it was Professor Dumbledore's job to clarify any possible confusion you may have had in regards to the book-list and the list of supplies. I am aware of your living conditions as well as the real reason why you are living there. The real reason is one which I will divulge at a later date, but to clarify on the book-list. All these items can be obtained from Diagon Alley. I will personally be visiting your place of residence as well as talking to your relatives in regards to your schooling. You can expect my visit within the next few days. I will also go over the differences between the magical foci used at our institution in person as it is too heavily detailed to put onto parchment.

Also, on a side-note, should you head outside, you will find an owl waiting on the postbox at the end of the drive-way. The owl is waiting for your return correspondence, you can simply use the inside of the second envelope.

Looking forward to an educational experience with you at Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Professor Skye Winderider

NEWT Instructor DADA (Defense Against the Dark Arts)

Head of House Gryffindor

Mastery in Magical Combat, Defense, and Flying.

Harry always kept a pencil in his cupboard for his schoolwork and quickly scribbled a note to Professor Winderider.

Prof. Winderider,

I am looking forward to meeting you and discussing Hogwarts, but I have a lot of questions and many of them, I think, won't fit into the space for this note. But the big questions that I have are what is Hogwarts and what is magic?

Harry J. Potter.

Harry finished the quick note and heard the rubbish bin being halled in front of his cupboard door.

"Its time to take out the rubbish!" barked Petunia.

Harry realized that his luck was beginning to change, if only for a small amount of time. Harry hauled his small frame out of the cupboard and took the rubbish pale out to the large cans waiting by the front stoop. He glanced at the post-box at the end of the driveway and, sure enough, he saw the owl.

He had seen a picture of this type of owl before. He thought it looked like a Great Horned Owl, but he wasn't certain. Anyway, after he took the large rubbish cans to the edge of the lawn for the sanitation workers to pick up the next day, he also pulled out the envelope from his pocket. He made to throw it away, at least that's what Petunia would've seen, but the Great Horned Owl flew away from the post-box and grabbed the envelope just as Harry would've released it into the rubbish cans.