AN: In this chapter (Which to me almost seems like it should have come first-oops!) we will step back in time to see what is going on with Harry prior to arriving at Hogwarts. Thank you so much for those who have reviewed! I'm sure you can tell I need all the help I can get. I will try to respond in the near future and pick your brains for ideas! I'm already working toward incorporating some of your suggestions.

I'm Nobody Chapter 2

Spiders are nice.

They spin webs, catch food, eat said food, then start all over the next day.

They are predictable.

As he watched a nice, predictable, spider repairing its web, from his position on an old cot mattress in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry reflected on just how predictable his own life had been up to the arrival of a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Up early in the mornings, Harry would make breakfast for the Dursleys, quickly grab himself a piece of bread, then make himself scarce to spare them his "freakish" presence.

Once at school Harry carefully maintained his below average work ethic so as not to outperform Dudley. Not only would Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia be furious at such an occurrence, but when Dudley caught him during the next round of "Harry Hunting" the results would be much more painful and longer lasting than normal.

As evening time rolled around and the family spent some time together, he would take up his post in the kitchen to provide dinner. Usually there were enough trimmings and scraps to keep his hunger appeased.

Sometimes there weren't.

About every other weekend he would be locked in his cupboard for some imaginary infraction or other. He had no idea where they came up with some of their accusations. How could he possibly be responsible for Aunt Petunia's garden club cancelling a meeting?

But he knew by now not to argue. He liked his bones arranged just the way they were, thank you very much.

Plus, the more time he spent in here with his spiders, the less time he had to dodge Dudley.

Not altogether pleasant, but predictable none the less.

_

From the moment he read his Hogwarts letter. Harry hadn't know what to think or what to feel.

He had become accustomed to knowing he was neither wanted or accepted by the Dursleys. He learned at an early age that his family despised having to "care" for a waste of space such as himself.

When Harry was much smaller he had dreamed that someone, anyone would come to the Dursleys and take him away. A mystery savior who would love him and care for him. He didn't want to be treated like Dudley by any means, but he did wonder if it felt as nice to hug someone as it looked.

He would spend time at the local park watching parents playing with their children, laughing, running, smiling. Harry used to think that maybe someday he could have that too.

The day he turned six he plucked up all his courage and asked his Aunt Petunia if he could have something for his birthday.

Her lip curled up in distaste as she spat "What could you possibly want, you ungrateful, disgusting, waste of space?"

Harry faltered, not sure it was wise to follow through, but asked anyway. "Co...Could I please have a h...hug?"

Aunt Petunia didn't start screaming like Harry half expected her to.

Instead she settled herself into a kitchen chair so that she was eye level with Harry's diminutive height.

She stated calmly and slowly,

"I think by now you are old enough to realize that you are nothing to us but a troublesome burden. No one wants you, and yet here you are, draining away on our happiness, knowing that we have to see your repugnant face and endure your irksome company every day of our lives."

She laughed although the sound lacked any humor.

"Your own kind didn't even want you boy. Now get out of my sight."

_

Now that he knew what she had meant by "your own kind", he couldn't help but wonder, why now?

Why after all these years of no contact would these "wizards" care about him or where he went to school?

He would most likely flunk out of wizarding classes within the first month anyway and would have gotten his hopes of a Dursley free existence up for nothing.

What if he still couldn't make any friends even though Dudley wouldn't be there to threaten them away? He was even more apprehensive after meeting a boy his own age during his trip with Hagrid to Diagon Alley.

_

Harry had just entered Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and stepped up on a footstool so he could be measured when he noticed another boy doing the same. The boy had the lightest blonde hair Harry had ever seen and a somewhat pointed face set with a superior expression. When the boy noticed Harry he asked,

"Going to Hogwarts, are you?"

"Yes," Harry mumbled in reply. He really had no experience talking to people, especially those his own age.

"I'll be in Slytherin house," stated the boy with a regal air. "What house will you be in?"

Harry furrowed his brow. House?

He reluctantly answered, "I don't know. What do you mean, house?"

Suddenly, the blond boy turned a look of disdain upon Harry. "You're not a Mudblood are you?"

Harry didn't know, but he could tell by the other boy's tone that it was not something desirable.

Great, I'm off to a wonderful start with perspective friends, Harry thought to himself. To the boy he replied,

"I'm not sure, I've only just found out I'm a wizard, and that my parents were too, but I don't know anything else about the wizarding world, sorry."

"Your parents were wizards you say, so how can you know nothing of magic?"

"My parents are dead, and my Uncle and Aunt can't do magic.", Harry shrugged. He really didn't want to talk about this.

A look of astonishment bloomed on the blonde's face. "You mean you live with muggles even though you were born to parents of wizarding blood?" He sounded almost outraged. "That's just not done! You are most likely related to another line of wizards who could have raised you!"

After some muttering, which sounded like of "filthy contaminating muggles", while shaking his insanely bright blonde head, the boy finally collected himself.

"Perhaps introductions are in order. Draco Malfoy," he stated, holding out his hand, obviously reverting to his previously regal affectation.

Nervously, Harry returned the gesture, reaching out to clasp the hand offered to him. "Harry Potter, pleased to meet you."

A look which could only be described as calculating passed over Draco's face before he responded, "Harry Potter, I am pleased to meet you as well."

_

That meeting almost a month ago still confused him. It seemed like Draco might have recognized his family name, but only talked about trivial things until his fitting was complete and left to meet his father.

Of course! Harry mentally slapped himself. Draco probably did recognize the name. Harry's parents were drunken delinquents. He had been gleefully told many times over the course of his life what lushes his parents were. Harry was right. This whole wizarding school thing would be a complete disaster.

AN: So we now have a little back story for Harry. I hope it doesn't come across as too choppy or chaotic. In the next chapter I'm hoping to achieve multiple POVs including Harry's as he goes through the sorting process. Please tell me what you think and let me know of any suggestions you may have.