Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in the story. It is all JK Rowlings. The school that Harry goes to, I dont know if its an actual school or not but I don't own it. I don't live in England, I know nothing. I'm sitting on my very Australian couch, with the laptop on my lap writing a story. I own nothing!


Harry Potter and the Generations of Darkness

Want an Education?

The first thought that came to his mind when he thought about his cousin was friends. He himself, had never had a single friend, but his cousin had many.

He didn't find it fair that there was nobody there, ever.

Harry's parents had died seven years ago when he was only one.

His uncle and aunt had told him that they had dies in a car crash, but he wasn't as unintelligent as most eight year olds were. He knew that it was something else. He knew that when he did find out it was going to be a big shock.

He had never been to school before as his Aunt Petunia had told him that it was a waste of time and money. That he was never going to get anywhere in life.

Harry didn't know how to read or write and his Uncle Vernon had never gone to the trouble to teach him. Neither had Aunt Petunia.

He got up off his bed in the small cupboard underneath the stairs and went to go and cook breakfast for his cousin, Dudley, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

When he got into the kitchen, his Uncle turned around to see him.

"What took you so long, boy? Why isn't my breakfast in front of me?" His uncle said loudly.

"You didn't tell me to stop sleeping." Harry replied shyly, not knowing how to say the phrase, 'You didn't wake me up.' for he had only learnt to talk from listening to his Aunt and Uncle.

"Do I have to be your slave for everything? Now, get me a bacon, egg and sausage roll. Same goes for Petunia and Dudders,"

"Er...'k," Harry replied.

"Boy, use your proper English!" Uncle Vernon ordered.

"Yes," Harry replied, not knowing what he had said wrong.

"Boy! This bacon isn't cooked! Come here!" Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing at the floor in indication of where he wanted Harry to stand.

"U-uncle Vernon?" Harry said nervously.

Uncle Vernon lifted up his fist and slammed it hard into Harry's eye.

"Get out of here, and tomorrow my bacon will be cooked properly!" said Uncle Vernon threateningly.

Harry did as he was told and left.


Harry was sick of everything.

He was sick of having nobody there for him.

So he just walked. He didn't know where he was going but he wanted to get lost. Maybe then somebody would find him and steal him away from his mess.

Every time he did something wrong, his uncle hurt him. He wished they treated him the same way as they did Dudley.

Finally, he did not recognise the environment surrounding him. He was lost. He continued walking.

He imagined that his eye was swollen and black now. Well, he could see that his eye was swolen as it was sticking out of his head, interrupting his line of view.

He stopped walking.

What was the point in walking? Nobody was going to come and steal him. Harry knew that he'd have to go back to the Dursleys whether or not somebody found him. They would take him home.

And then the most incredible thing happened.

As he was just about to turn around and go home, a lady approached.

She was a very beautiful lady. She wore a baby blue singlet top and shorts that suited the hot whether.

Her hair was sandy brown and fell down in curls, shaping around her face as they went, to the middle of her back.

Her eyes were the most beautiful colour in the world. They were aqua with streaks of green in them.

Everything about her was perfect. She looked around twenty-five years old.

The lady stopped in front of him.

Harry looked at his feet shyly.

"Hey sweetie, do you need a lift home?" She asked him kindly.

"Umm. . .Ah. . .yeah, I dunno where I are," Harry replied in his bad English.

The lady knitted her eyebrows suspiciously.

Surely a boy this age would know that you don't use the word 'are' in that context.


Harry and the lady were sitting in the car, Harry very awkwardly.

They had introduced themselves to each other. The lady's name was Daisy Payton and she was a school teacher.

"So Harry," she was saying, "what school do you go to?"

"School? I didn't ever been to school," Harry replied, not thinking that his sintence sounded right, but not knowing how to change it.

"You haven't been to school?!" Daisy exclaimed.

"My uncle says that he can teach me to read good by himself and that he doesn't want me to get bullied." Harry said, covering up what his uncle had really said.

"Well, where do you live? I am going to have a talk to your uncle and where are your parents?" Daisy asked curiously, knowing that he had lied about what his uncle had said.

"I live on 4 Privet Drive, Surrey," Harry told her, not looking up from where his head had been the whole drive. Looking at his feet.

"A-and what happened to your parents?" Daisy pressed.

"They died when I was one," Harry stated dully.

"Oh, you poor boy. Is your uncle nice to you?" She asked.

"Yes, and same as my Aunt and cousin."

"How did you get that bruise on your eye?" Daisy asked.

"Well. . .I kinda ran into a pole," Harry said, still not looking up.

"Oh," She said, knowing that he was lying to her once again, "Here we are. 4 Privet Drive, Surrey. I'm going to try and convince your uncle to enrol you at the school that I teach at, Okay?"

"Umm, I don't think he'll say yeah."

"He will. Don't worry." she said, reassuringly.


Daisy knocked on the door of Harry's family's home, waiting for it to be opened.

When the door finally opened, standing before the two of them was a giant man.

He had fat dangling from him in every place imaginable and at the sight of Harry, his face turned purple in anger.

"I told you to get out! What are you doing back here?" He Vernon growled gruffly, not even recognising that Daisy was standing right next to Harry.

Harry flinched back and wrapped himself around the back of Daisy's leg in protection.

Uncle Vernon then noticed Daisy.

"And who are you?" He demanded.

"Hello, you must be Mr. Dursley. I am Daisy Payten. I am a teacher at the local school. Have you heard of it? It's called Surrey Public School."

"Yes, I've heard of it. My son Dudley goes there." Uncle Vernon replied.

"Please, Mr. Vernon. Invite me into your living room and we can discuss the matters of Harrys education. I have a very important question to ask you." Daisy suggested.


"So. So! You are asking me to pay money for him to go to the same school as Dudley? And me to pay for it?!" Uncle Vernon .

"Well, yes, but if you have a financial problem, the school can pay for his enrolment." Daisy offered kindly.

"We do not have a financial problem!"

"Well, what is your decision? Will you let Harry get and education? Or not?" Daisy asked.

"Will that mean that he'll be gone during the day?" He asked meanly.

"Umm. . .Yes, it means exactly that," she said, astounded that a boy like Harry had to grow up in such a horrible environment.

"Fine, he can go and learn at your school," said Uncle Vernon giving in.

Line

Two weeks had passed and it was Harry's first day of school. He was extremely nervous.

He had left home, hoping that the had free food at school, for Uncle Vernon didn't let him take a single crumb of food.

He walked to school, not allowed to have a lift like Dudley got from Aunt Petunia.

It was a twenty minute walk and he knew he was going to arrive late to his first day of school.

Line

Daisy was excited for this day.

Harry was coming!

Poor, sweet, selfless Harry was coming. And he couldn't even read, let alone talk properly.

Deep down, Daisy knew that he was abused by his uncle, but she didn't want to believe a word of it.

She wanted to make a difference.

She knew the difference wouldn't be big but maybe, it would be the first time ever that anyone had ever been nice to him.

But as she sat down at her desk looking at her Year 3 students, she noticed that Harry Potter was not there.

She started to read the role.

"Aaron?" She called.

"Here!"

"Caitlyn?"

"Here!"

"Danny?"

"Here!"

"Felix?"

"He's away today, Miss," said Sam, the troublemaker.

She marked Felix as away.

"Georgia?"

"Present."

"Grace?"

"Here."

And then:

"Harry Potter is our new student. Has anyone seen him?" Daisy asked.

There was a chorus of 'No Miss'


Ten minutes later, the class was in Grammer sessions, where they split up into groups and read books.

Harry opened the door and walked into his new classroom, looking around nervously.

"Hello Harry," Daisy said.

"H-hi," Harry replied shyly, "S-sorry I'm late. I had to walked to school."

"That's okay, darling. Just next time leave a little earlier."

"'K" Harry said quietly, "Thank you Daisy."

"For what?" She asked.

Harry shrugged.


At recess Harry sat alone on the silver seats by himself.

He just sat by himself, with his elbows on his knees, hands holding his face.

Daisy saw him and came and sat next to him.

"Don't you have any recess, Harry?" Asked Daisy.

Harry shook his head.

"Would you like me to buy you some?"

Harry shook his head.

"Why?"

Harry shrugged.

"What's that on your arm?"

Harry hid his arm with his shirt.

"No, Harry show me."

Harry showed his arm. On it was a bigh, yellowing bruise.

"How did you get that?"

"When I was about to got in the car for the way to school, it got slammed," Harry said quietly.

"But you said that you walked," Daisy argued.

"I did but I was gunna have a lift and then I did naughty stuff so my Uncle slammed the door on my arm and stuff, and then I hads to go 'n walk."


Days went on where Harry was in Daisys class. Days turned into months and Harry's English never improved. Old habits stuck.

He didn't make any effort in class because it was all too hard for him.

He still couldn't read. It was near the end of the year.

Next year Harry wouldn't be in Daisy's class.

Harry always had bad injuries. One day it was a cut on his head. The next, a broken arm.

All his injuries seemed to go away over night though.

Daisy thought it was the most peculiar thing.

But it was Harry.

These things happened to Harry.


Daisy was sitting in a teachers meeting with the principal.

"Daisy, there is a student in your class who has failed every test. Maybe your method of teaching is a bad one," Mr Froot, the principal said.

"Mark, that is Harry. I am under belief that he is abused at home. At one stage I called the child protection Centre and they investigated the environment. His Uncle and Aunt were overly friendly and made a good impression on the Child Protection Centre. They reported that there was no sign of mistreatment in the house that Harry Potter lives in. But, Mark, I know better. I've seen how Harry's uncle treats him. For the first eight years of Harry's life he had no education because his uncle told him that he would never learn anything anyway so it was a waste of money, and for that Harry can't read, he can't write and he can't even talk in proper English. He has given up learning because it is too hard and took him to a doctor and he was diagnosed with ADD, the concentration problem. When he gets to High School he won't know anything. But, Mark, my point is that: On Harry's first day, I made myself a goal. My goal was to make a difference in Harry's life. Not to teach him. Just to make a difference. I knew he was too old to catch up on anything. But I know that I've made a differnce, I can see it in his eyes. Those big green eyes. I saw the ghost of a smile on his face the other day. The first time I've ever seen him smile. He came up to me with a picture and he said, "Daisy, I drawed you a picture," in his bad English and I told him that I loved it and I stuck it up on the wall and he had the tiniest smile on his face. I made a difference, Mark, it's the biggest sense of satisfaction I have ever felt in my life," Daisy concluded, out of breath.

Mark nodded, touched by the love she had placed in this boy who had never felt and ounce of love before in his entire lifeless life.


It was the end of the year, the last day of school, and it was nearly Christmas time.

Harry looked extremely sad when he approached Daisy.

"Daisy. I'm not coming back next year," Harry said sadly.

"Why?" Daisy said, dumbfounded.

"I'm gunna go somewhere far, far away and I'm not comin' back," Harry replied.

Daisy let a single tear out.

"But where are you going?!" she insisted.

"I-i can't say but I needa thank you. Thanks so much, Daisy. If I say goodbye, I'll prob'ly forget everything you taught me about anything. So I'm jus' gunna say, see you later, for now."

"See you later, Harry," Daisy cried.

Harry turned around to walk off but he stopped.

He turned around, and he ran back to her.

He stared at her for a moment and then wrapped his arms around her middle, giving and receiving the first hug he had ever had.

She bant down and cried into his hair, looking into those giant emerald eyes for the last time and taking in the redness of his lightning bolt scar.

"See you Harry, good luck," she said blowing a kiss and planting it on his forehead.


Hey, please review.

The next chapter might not be up for another week or so cause I have yearlys coming up but pleeease review. I love you if you review. ;)

Next chapter Harry's not eight years old anymore. . .