A/N: I'm not the greatest writer in the world, so all I can promise you is that I'll do my best. Also, this is a story that depicts a darker side of life than the one Rowling presented us. Although. I have yet to decide harry's house. I could do something for each one... Hmm... I must ponder this :).

Book One: Avada Kadavra

Chapter One: Conspiracies

The hallway was completely dark. There was only one door at the end. As he approached it, he felt a mysterious dark presence, as if it was trying to warn him not to enter.

It had taken him years to plan this. He always suspected he was being lied to. However he was never able to find any proof otherwise.

When he reached the intersection of the hallway, he quickly peered around the edges. Once he knew he was clear he dashed towards the door. Taking out his pocket knife, he expertly broke the door open without leaving a trace.

The room was filled with file cabinets. He shuddered when he realized how daunting the task could have been if he didn't know what he was looking for.

He began searching quickly, he had little time to find what he came for. Once he found the P- Z sections he opened the file cabinet. He grinned when he found the document.

It read:

Birth Certificate of Harry James Potter

James Potter Sirius Black

Lily Evans

Harry was confused, despite his search bering successful it only gave him more answers. Not only was there two men listed as his father, there was a golden line connecting the two names and a red one attached to his mother's from the middle.

Harry took the document and found a copying machine, then copied it. After stashing the original copy back into the file cabinet he left the room, closing the door behind him.

He heard his name urgently whispered, "Harry! They're coming!" A voice said.

Harry squinted his eyes only to see his best friend. "Did you find it?"

Harry nodded, and grinned. "Of course, what do you take me for Blaise?"

Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes. "To not be skilled in the slightest."

Harry pouted, then produced the document he copied earlier. "I found it, but it raised more questions than it answered."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, "Really?" He asked

Harry nodded, "Yes, but we'll talk about it later. We need to get going."

Blaise nodded in agreement and the two stealthily left the school building. Once they reached the neighborhood park the two stopped to rest on a bench.

Blaise looked at Harry questioningly, "What did you find that raised questions?" He asked.

Harry shook his head in frustration and procured the document from his pocket. He folded it open for his friend to see.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, "What's there to wonder? It says what we know." He said.

Harry raised his own eyebrow in response, "You don't see anything curious about it? Never mind then, forget o said anything about it then."

Blaise couldn't help but frown at his response, "If it's that un-important I suppose," He said.

The two boys were friends the moment they met. Harry found Blaise hiding behind a bookshelf in the library when he was eight. When Harry inquired as to why he was hiding, Blaise said that he was hiding from his mother. They had a fun time until his mother frantically dashed into the room, looking for her son. Harry didn't meet Blaise again for two years when they ran into each other at the library once more. That was when Harry had asked Blaise for his help, and now here they were.

Blaise sighed, "Well, I'd better get going. My mother will have a fit if she notices I'm not there," He said, morosely.

Harry smiled at his friends demeanor. He knew Blaise cared for his mother even if he didn't like admitting it out loud. It was too bad they both knew it wasn't reciprocated. Blaise told him the second time they met up that his mother only cared for him as her heir. Harry was confused about the "heir" part but Blaise never elaborated.

Harry frowned as he watched his friend leave. There were things that didn't add up about his friend. Still, he new better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wouldn't press Blaise about anything if he didn't want to. Harry really couldn't talk much - it's not like his home life was any better.

Harry grimaced at the thought of home. They'd surely notice him missing by now and he wasn't keen on incurring their wrath. He turned away from the park and began walking home.

Private Drive was a posh yet plain neighborhood. They prided themselves of being normal. Harry was never welcomed into the neighborhood because he was far from normal. Unexplainable things always happened when he was around and the neighborhood knew it, so they shunned him. Thus began his circle of life.

Once Harry arrived at the doorstep, he opened the door and entered the hallway only to be confronted by his walrus of an uncle. Vernon Dursley was a shallow and selfish man. He only cared for himself. The two were at odds for as long as Harry could remember. That made him hate his uncle even more so than he already did.

Vernon towered over him with fury. He looked down at him before pushing him against the wall.

"What do you mean by it Boy! Hurry up and start dinner already," Vernon yelled, threateningly.

At this moment in time Harry's long locks began flashing through a multitude of colors. Harry hated this, he could never control this in front of his uncle.

Vernon sneered at Harry, "Can't even control your emotions can you? What a freak!" He said.

Eventually his hair settled on a unnatural red. One that was darker than his normal bright red.

Vernon laughed, "Angry are we? Get to making dinner and see how you feel then!" He taunted, letting go of Harry.

Harry stumbled upon hitting the ground, "I'd have started by now if you didn't torment me," He muttered angrily to himself.

Harry sighed once his uncle left. He went to the kitchen and began cooking a dinner a chef would envy. During that time he noticed his aunt Petunia standing near the doorway, looking at him sadly. Harry frowned as he was cooking. Many things just didn't add up in his life and he detested that.