Harry's Butterfly

By: AndDon'tCallMeShirley

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. If I did, I'd be filthy rich and I'm not. sighs

Author Notes: So this is my first HP story here. I don't know how long of a story it will be yet. I have a basic outline of what's going to happen. It starts when Harry's about four, almost five, and it will end when Harry gets his Hogwarts letter. The first chapter here is not very long; it's just a bit of a backbone to the story.

I'm posting the first two chapters today since it's new years day. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Also, if you don't anything really nice to say, go ahead a say it. If this story sucks monkey balls, you go ahead a say it. Just wait until a few chapters are posted though. The first chapter is always a rough one.

And if you have anything good to say, I would love to hear that too... anyways, on to the story!

Prelude: The Earliest of Childhood Memories

The carbon-copy houses of Privet Drive were as drudging as ever. Everyday, the daily routine repeated itself without excitement. The same sun rose over the well kept blades of grass in all of the perfectly square front yards. The same mailman made his round and delivered the post sharply on time every time. From an outsider's point of view, Privet Drive would appear to be plain and ordinary.

But sometimes, appearances don't show all that's there to see.

Still unknown to some their esteemed neighbors, the inhabitants of Number 4 had a rather big secret to hide. This secret wasn't an idea or object, no, it was a boy.

A young boy at that, too! At the age of four, almost five, this boy possessed powers and legends that even he isn't aware of. Just image the change of havoc that would be made if the neighbors ever found out! And that was the inhabitants of Number 4's biggest fear.

Yet from that outsider's point of view, the boy would seem almost normal compared to others his age. He had jet black hair and very bright green eyes behind his rather thick glasses. The only abnormal thing about him, apart from his hanging hand-me-down clothes he's forced to wear, is the lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

His parent's had died in a car crash when he was just a baby and now the boy lives with his only remaining relatives, his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. And who can forget their son, Dudley, whose threatening to grow up into a baby whale at his rate of food consumption.

The Dursleys of Number Four Privet Drive all show some varying amount of dislike to their unwanted family member, Harry Potter. Dudley likes to show his affect to Harry by either chasing him up a tree (if he can catch him) or by taking away whatever his cousin wants. Harry's Aunt and Uncle are actually afraid of him and try to mask it through their obvious hatred toward him. Not one day in the house goes by where one of the two hasn't insulted of threatened Harry.

Little did Harry know, he's considered a hero to many. Sadly, none of those many live on Privet Drive. With a family that considers him less worthy of a dog and a neighborhood of normal people, he's often alone.

For as long as he can remember, Harry always disliked the Dursleys. From the time he wakes up to when he goes to sleep, all he ever receives is their loathing. Even now, at the age of four, where not a lot of the world makes since yet, Harry could confidently say that he hates the Dursleys as well.

What's there not to detest about the Dursleys? They make Harry sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, force him to cook and clean, and don't bother reminding him everyday that he's a freak.

Even his earliest childhood memories contain nothing good. These memories slip away like water trying to be held in cupped hands. The only things Harry remembers of his stay at the Dursleys so far are the worst of all horrible memories, the rocks in the water.

There was this one time when everyone was served salad for dinner. Harry, of course, wasn't welcome to the dinner table and was eating half a cheese sandwich on the floor. He watched the family function as one, his heart aching to join them. Dudley was not satisfied with his rather skimpy meal and was throwing an infamous temper tantrum. To let out his anger, he took the tub containing his brio train pieces and chucked it at Harry's head.

The side of the tub was sharp and jabbed Harry right along the side of his eye. Harry didn't even bother trying to hold in his wailing as the cut hurt horribly. It just kept bleeding while his Aunt and Uncle argued whether or not to take him to the hospital. After twenty minutes, Harry was in the backseat of the car, trying to staunch the bleeding with his rather large sleeve.

At least the people at the hospital were nice to him. The kind-looking nurse gave him what was called "butterfly stitches" and told him to leave the bandages alone or else the butterfly would fly away. Harry distinctly remembered thinking whether or not the butterfly would fly him away too as they drove home.

There was this other time shortly afterwards when Dudley was chasing Harry on the playground. By some miracle, he managed to catch his cousin and rip his bandage off. The stitches were still healing and the sudden rip of the bandage made them pulse with pain. After knocking Harry over, he shoved his head into the sandbox violently. Harry cried for hours on end as the sand burned his cut.

Aunt Petunia wouldn't allow him to get them re-bandaged. She believed Dudley's far-fetched story of him ripping off his bandages and sticking his head in the sand box.

All of Harry's painful memories stayed in his conscious. At night in his cupboard, he tried desperately to clear his head of the ache they caused. He would often clutch his only blanket and stuffed dog to him as he cried. He was very sure that they were left with him as he was dropped off on the doorstep. They were his only link to his parents.

One memory always stayed in his head, not that it was too terrible, no, it happened quite often. Aunt Petunia was giving Dudley a bath. This task usually took forever as Dudley liked to play with his toys in the water for at least an hour. Instead of starting a new bath for Harry, Aunt Petunia would just use the already cold and dirty water from Dudley's bath. Dudley would march proudly out of the bathroom, all of his toys in his arms. Harry was hoping he didn't pee in the tub or something.

Thank God it wasn't that, Harry remembered thinking. Instead, Dudley was proud of the floater he left for his cousin. He remembered the punishment he got or that, as Dudley blamed it on him, like always. Harry had to clean it up and scrub the tub.

Harry also remembered missing dinner that night. He was so tired of being the blame of all of Dudley's mishaps that he wanted to get back at him.

That night when everyone was sleeping, Harry snuck out of his cupboard and went to the pantry. Opening it slowing because of it squeaks, Harry took the box of cookies that Dudley often ate while watching cartoons. There were about four more boxes of cookies in the pantry so Harry didn't have too much to worry about.

He sat on the ground and ate what was left of the cookies. Never was he so happy. Harry had never tasted something so sweet. He just kept eating and eating…

Until his stomach seemed to flip flop, the box of cookies was empty and Harry felt sick to his stomach. Running to the trashcan, he emptied his stomach in anguish.

Luckily, no one woke up to Harry's heaving as he sat with his back against the pantry until another wave of nausea struck him. His belly was still churning but Harry had to get rid of the evidence. He ended up taking out the trash in the middle of the night. Even with an empty stomach, he didn't have an appetite the next day.

The most painful of all memories, the one Harry always wanted to be forgotten, was not one with him being physically harmed; It was emotionally scarring. Whenever his mind dwelled over it, it burned right in his heart. It was a question he had asked Aunt Petunia, but the answer wasn't the cause of the pain. It was rather the lack of answers she gave.

Harry has always been a curious boy. There was so much he wondered about and so few answered he'd receive. He had once asked his Aunt where his scar came from while she was cleaning the dishes.

"You got it in the crash that killed your parents, now don't ask questions!" She answered hastily, shoving the wet rag and sponge in his hands. "Now make yourself useful and finish the dishes. I have to cook Diddle-Dumdums his dinner."

Harry often would lay at night on the small cot in his cupboard. He would often close his eyes and imagine his mother's touch and his father's voice. He would often dream of them, his faceless parents, only to wake up forgetting about his dream. All he would remember was the warm, happy feeling inside him. The feeling that not even the Dursleys could take away.

This happiness was the only thing that kept him alive at the Dursleys. Just the fact that he could imagine something Dudley couldn't made him gleeful. Even in the winter, when the frost outside would creep into the house, Harry would cuddle with his blanket and his stuffed dog and dream of what could have been, what should have been.

If only his dreaming could hide all the other bad memories away. If only all Harry knew was of his mother's voice as she sang him to sleep or of his father's advice as he taught him how to ride a bike. He often dreamed of others, grandparents and nicer Aunts and Uncles. There had to have been more of them somewhere. If only Harry knew where.

The only thing Harry wanted other than remembering his parent's faces is a different relation coming to take him away. He often dreamed of a handsome man, an Uncle maybe, who came to fly him away. The dream often changed slightly. One night, the two flew away on a flying motorcycle. Another night, they were flying on a strange flying horse-bird creature.

The one he dreamed of often was of him and the handsome man flying away on a butterfly. They flew far away from the Dursleys, never to return again.

TBC

Next Chapter: Dudley's 5th Birthday!

I will usually try to update weekly or so. It depends because January and February will be rather busy with midterms, swim meets, and out show choir show.