Authors note: I don't talk during my stories. Any and all brackets used are still the character speaking. Thanks for reading.

Chapter One

"Harry! Harry! Come on sweet heart, wake up..."

It was with a pained groan that four year old Harry Potter fought his way back into consciousness, curious about the frantic voice calling someone's name.

He had no idea who this person was calling to. Who was Harry? Where was he? What was going on?

Now mostly awake, Harry lay still for a moment, faking sleep, and trying to remember everything that happened before his world had gone dark.

**

It had been another normal quiet day on number 4 Privet Drive. Dudley had spent most of his day up in his room playing video games. Aunt Petunia had been keeping to her daily routine of: spying on the neighbours, finding chores for her freak of a nephew to do, spying on the neighbours, hitting the freak when he wasn't making Dudley's five daily snacks and four course lunch fast enough, and spying on the neighbours.

Little Harry Potter wasn't feeling very well, in fact, he was pretty sure that he was getting the flu that Dudley had brought home a few days ago. Harry hated getting sick. Of course, no one likes getting sick, but Harry hated it. Whenever Dudley got sick, Aunt Petunia would stay with him all night, rubbing his back, holding a cold cloth to his head, and whipping his mouth when he had finished throwing up. She didn't do that for Harry. When Harry got sick, he was locked in the main floor washroom, and was told "don't bother us until you're back to your normal freakish self, boy!"

It was 4:40pm when aunt Petunia bellowed for Harry to start making dinner. Vernon would be home at five, and expected dinner on the table.

Trudging into the kitchen, Harry caught a glimpse of his reflection in the hall mirror; his face was nearly white and his striking green eyes teared up with the pain in his stomach and the reminder that he would have to go through it all alone...again.

"Get in here boy! Vernon will be home soon and dinner had better be ready! And you better not ruin it or it will be the strap for you!" Petunia screeched.

Swallowing heavily, Harry bit back his tears. "Yes aunt Petunia." He muttered just loud enough for her to hear and walked over to the stove where a dozen pork chops had already been marinating since noon and sat waiting for him beside the stove.

"Um, Aunt Petunia, I-I don't think I can make dinner tonight." Harry murmured weakly, the smell of the food making him nauseous.

"What are you talking about Boy?! You'll do as you're told!" Petunia screeched, smacking him hard on the back of the head, and then walking away to set the table.

Bending over and holding his stomach, Harry forced himself to take a few deep breaths, and hope that his violently turning stomach would take pity on him, and stop hurting just until dinner was finished.

With another painful groan, and a deep breath, Harry approached his stepping stool beside the stove and started dinner; only breathing in the smell of the food when it was absolutely necessary.

**

Like clockwork, Uncle Vernon walked through the door at 5:00pm on the dot. Immediately recognising the smell of pork chops; Vernon smiled happily as he entered the kitchen, gave his wife a kiss on the cheek, ruffled Dudley's thick blond hair, and sat at the table, waiting to be served.

One by one, all of the Dursleys sat at the kitchen table, and chatted about what they had done that day. Vernon was sure that he would be chosen for the current promotion that was up for grabs at Grunnings; the drill company Uncle Vernon worked for. Petunia preened on about how the neighbours' daughter had a new boyfriend, Johnny-something-or-other, who drove a motorcycle. And Dudley had beaten another level on his favourite computer game.

Yes, it was a perfectly normal and quiet night in the Dursley household. Normal, right up to Petunia snapping her fingers as a signal for Harry to bring the food out.

No one noticed Harry sway dangerously in front of the stove before he managed to grab hold of the counter, and shake his head, forcing himself to stay conscious just a little longer.

Harry heard Aunt Petunia snap her fingers again impatiently, and sighed. Taking one more deep breath, Harry mustered up the rest of his strength and grabbed the plate that the pork chops were on, taking it out to the table.

He had almost reached the table when his arms started to shake badly from the strain. Feeling his arms about to give out on him, Harry made a desperate lunge for the table. What he didn't see was one of Dudley's toys on the floor, causing him to trip, and finally let go of the platter he was holding.

Everyone was silent except for a groaning Harry, who was clutching his twisted ankle in pain. As the silence continued, Harry looked up to see the destruction that his fall had caused.

As soon as he had looked up, Harry wished that he hadn't.

There, sitting at the table, now covered in still scalding, greasy pork chops, was uncle Vernon.

Furious, Vernon jumped from the table and grabbed Harry by the throat.

Harry didn't bother to cry out or struggle as Vernon squeezed his throat closed.

Just as Vernon didn't bother to yell or curse as he dragged the boy from the kitchen and into the den.

They both knew that Harry was about to get another beating. The only question still up in the air was whether or not Harry would wake up after this one.

***

'Well, I guess that answers what happened.' Harry thought, still pretending to sleep as he could hear whispering from somewhere nearby.

"Oh Eric..." It was a women's voice, that much was obvious, and she was...crying. Why was she crying? Her voice, it seemed familure some how...he just couldn't place it.

"I know Lily, I know..." A man. His voice seemed familure too. The voice was deep, and somehow powerful, or, it would have been if you hadn't been able to hear the obvious tears in his throat.

Bothe voices, though foreign, lulled Harry like nothing else. And for the first time in his life that he could remember; Harry allowed himself to relax in the presence of other people.

Enjoying this rare opportunity to relax, Harry allowed his curiosity to take over, and continued to pretend to sleep as he listened to the couple's conversation.

"Oh Eric, his face, his beautiful little face! And his ribs, arms, and legs! Eric he's only four, they...Why, why would they do this to him? I know that they never liked us or our world but..." The woman Harry assumed to be Lily started sobbing again.

Harry was getting a little worried now. Was this lady talking about him? And if so, what was wrong with his face? Broken arms and legs were nothing new, and he was pretty sure he had had cracked a rib or two before. But what was wrong with his face?

"I know Lily, I know... I don't know what happened...he had protections! They should have stopped this! They should have told us our son was in danger!" The man's voice was furious.

'Their son? Am I in a hospital or something? These people must be talking about the boy in the next bed or something.'

"But Eric, how could we not have known? We're his parents for Merlin's sake. We should have felt that he needed us the first time it happened. You saw the diagnostic spell; he's had multiple brakes, and I don't want to think about how many fractures! How could we not have known?!"

Lily's tears gave way to anger and Harry could have sworn he could hear what sounded like glass jars trembling together.

"Calm down Lily. You're not going to help Harry by scaring him to death or shattering all of your potion ingredients."

'There's that name again, Harry. Who's Harry? Oh, he must be the boy in the bed beside me. Oh well, I hope he's ok.' Harry let out a painful sigh, finding that, yes, he was sure that he had at least two broken ribs.

At the sound of his sigh, the couple stopped talking.

"Harry?" Lily's voice sounded.

Harry didn't respond to her, but he did allow his eyes to open slightly.

"Is he okay?" His voice was strained and scratchy.

"Is who okay, dear?" Lily asked.

Harry turned his foggy eyes on the slight frame of a red haired woman.

"You're son, Harry." He said, letting his eyes close again. He was finding that it hurt to open them too far for too long. 'Definitely two more black eyes.'

"Ha-Harry?" Lily asked shakily.

"Ya, is he okay?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"What's your name, son?" the man he thought was named Eric, asked.

"I-I don't have one sir." Harry said, ashamed. After all, it was his fault that his parent's didn't love him enough to name him.

"You don't-" Lily cut herself off with the emotion that was clogging her throat.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I am so very sorry." Eric choked out.

"Sorry for what sir?" Harry asking innocently.

"For many, many things, my boy. Many incredible mistakes." He sounded as though he was fighting a losing battle with his tears.

"That's ok, sir. I think that if you say you're sorry, and you truly mean it, than you won't do it again, and then things can be ok." Harry said. It was very sound reasoning in Harry's four year old mind.

"Thank you Harry. I truly hope you're right." Eric said with a strange fondness in his voice.

"Um, excuse me sir, but, did-did you just call me...Harry?" Harry asked quivering. He didn't know why, was starting to feel excitement in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes Harry, he did."Lily spoke up. "That's your name, and you are our son. Your full name is Harry James Gryffindor. Your aunt Petunia is-was my sister. A little over a year after you were born, something terrible happened, and your father and I had to go into hiding. We wanted you to be able to have a normal childhood, not one where you had to stay in the house all day, and could never play with children your own age, so, just like the rest of the world, we let the Dursleys believe that we were dead, and asked them to take care of you. I knew that Petunia hated our world, but I always thought that she would look past that, and raise my son as her own. I never...I swear to you Harry; if we had known...if only we had known what was happening to you...Oh Harry, we are so sorry, I-we..." Lily trailed off sobbing once more.

Harry, still in possession of some of his innocence, allowed himself to hope, to dream, that one of his many day dreams had come true and that his parent's weren't really dead, they had just lost him for a little while, and now, they had found him! They had finally come to take him home!

With hope and excitement building inside of him, Harry also felt a familure warm white light building up in his chest. Harry smiled serenely, and sighed in contentment as he felt the light completely infuse his broken body. This experience was nothing new for young Harry. His body just naturally took over after one of uncle Vernon's beatings. It was just like his hair growing back over night, or Dudley's hideous sweater shrinking so that Petunia couldn't force it over his head. It was just something strange that happened around him.

"H-Harry...What-How...Harry, how did you do that?" Lily asked, completely amazed.

Worried that he might be in trouble for doing something freakish, Harry tried franticly to come up with some kind of explanation as to how he did what he had done. What came out was a, clearly terrified, plea.

"I-I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I-I don't know how I do it! It just-It always happens after I get hurt! I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I promise! I'll never do it again! Please! Please don't send me away again!" Harry was nearly in hysterics as he begged not to be sent back to the Dursleys.

Lily and Eric were heartbroken at the sight of their nearly broken son as he begged them not to send him away. The thought flashed through their minds; that a child should never have to beg their parent to not abandon them.

"Harry, love, it's ok. You're not in any kind of trouble. I was just curious. That was an incredible show of magic." Lily said soothingly, sitting gently on edge of the bed. She took extra care not to move the bed too much and jar his still healing injuries.

Thanks to his 'light' Harry's eyes had fully healed. In fact, the only part of him that was still sore was where the bone had broken. Those would remain tender for the next hour or so, he knew.

Now with his full healed eyes back to their normal semi-blurriness, Harry stiffly pulled himself up until he was able to lean back against the head board of the bed, and took a moment to examine the couple before him.

The woman, Lily, who was now sitting on his bed, had long pretty red hair and the same shade of green eyes as he did. She was thin, but not boney like aunt Petunia and had a kind smile. Her face, like her voice, seemed distantly familure.

"Mu-mum?" Harry gasped out weakly.

Lily didn't notice that she had started crying again as Harry, now crying as well, slowly leaned forward into his mother's open arms for the first time in his memory, and wept into her shoulder. Allowing himself to be comforted.

Still holding his mother tightly around the neck, Harry's tearful eyes looked up to see the man who was supposedly his father. He was an intimidating man. Or, he would have been if he hadn't had tears running down his face and a happy, quivering smile showing just within his neatly trimmed goatee. He was tall, and muscular; in Harry's mind, he looked like some king or knight from one of the fairy tales that Petunia read to Dudley every night. He had wavy, shoulder length, jet black hair, with strange yellow eyes that were somehow comforting. His strong, chiselled face, just like his voice, seemed familure.

"D-dad?" Harry's voice quivered, as he reluctantly unwrapped one of his little arms from his mother, and held it out to his father.

In one stride, Godric had his strong arms wrapped around his wife and son, as he kneeled in front of where they sat on the bed.

"Is...is it really you? Is this real?" Harry whispered, just loud enough for them to hear and holding onto his parents for dear life.

"Yes son, we're here. And I swear to you, we will never leave you again." Godric's deep voice had a soothing timber to it. So much so, that Harry found his eyes drooping.

"You promise?" he asked, as only a child could.

"Yes sweetheart, we promise." Lily whispered, stroking his hair as though she had done it a thousand times before.

All at once; the stress of the night and the unconscious use of his magic caught up with Harry, and the boy nearly collapsed in his parent's arms.

Lily and Godric panicked for a moment, before realising that he had just fallen asleep, and not into some kind of coma.

"Eric, did you see the power that he used in healing himself? I've never even heard of such a thing." Gently placing Harry down on the bed, Lily shooed Godric away for a moment so that she could run a diagnostic spell on him.

They both had to gasp at the results of the test. All of Harry injuries had been healed, but still showed that the bones had been broken at one point. True, that was truly amazing, but it was his magical core measurement that left them gaping.

For the healers at St. Mungos, there were strict rules and schedules for how long a witch or wizard could work a shift, simply because of the drain that healing spells put on the caster. A standard healer was able to cast 12 standard healing charms, such as for broken bones and the like, or 3 high powered, magic intensive spells, such as the counter curse for the flesh eating curse that also drained the victim of their magic. (Vox Corpus – A spell used in the last battle.)

These stipulations were regulated as the maximum because after those points, a healer would have used up at least half of their magical reserves.

The reason that Lily and Godric had been struck speechless was because; when Lily had assessed Harry's injuries the first time, it had been determined that she and Godric alone could not heal him fully. So they did what they could; Lily had first taken care of his arms, and then his jaw. She had wanted to fix his entire face, but after using five bone restoration spells on each arm, she figured that being able to communicate would be better than seeing in this case, and so used her two remaining spells to re-attach his jaw.

Godric had gone to work on Harry's legs and ribs. But even with his considerable power, Godric was not able to heal the boy completely. He had decided to work his way up, healing first a badly sprained ankle, and then the broken one. Godric went on to heal the shin-splints that had occurred over time. How, they had no idea. Next were his knees. Luckily, only one of the kneecaps had been shattered, the other had so much scar tissue around it, it was a wonder that the boy could walk.

By the time Godric had finished on Harry's left knee, the one that had been shattered, Lily had had to stop as she was getting dizzy from the magic loss. Godric's mind was getting fuzzy, but he forced himself to push on. He wouldn't allow his son to be in the pain he would undoubtedly suffer if he was to wake up with even half of his original wounds.

Stubbornly, Godric forced himself to make an attempt on Harry's ribs. Specifically the two that were dangerously close to puncturing one of his lungs.

Godric sat heavily on the bed, and allowed himself to rest when only two of the original six broken ribs remained fractured, but were no longer broken.

They hadn't been able to heal any of the bruises, or Harry's dislocated shoulder, but they hoped that it wouldn't be too painful for him to wait one night for them to recharge their cores.

After fixing as much as they could, Godric and Lily had needed to take at least two pepper-up potions each, before they were no longer too dizzy to stand.

Two fully grown and powerful wizards had not been able to do in five hours, what their four year old son had done in less than two minutes.

How was that possible?

Double and triple checking the magical diagnostic, the adults stared. Harry had done what it would have taken three fully trained healers to do, without using even half of his magical stores.

And he had done a thorough job as well. There was not a single bruise on his body, nor any swelling around any of his brakes or fractures. Even his shoulder had been put back into place.

"Come Lily, let us follow Harry's example, and get some rest." Godric said, wrapping one of his arms around Lily's shoulders, and leading her out of the room they had specially designed as Harry's so long ago.

"His name, Eric...He didn't even know his own name..." Lily whispered with an emotion akin to horror in her voice.

"I know Lily...I know..."

***