AN: So yeah... I've been reading the Harry Potter FanDom for about 3 years now. I've received an unimaginable number of hours of enjoyment from some of these amazing authors. And now, I figure it's my turn to write, to try and give a little back after all this time.

This fic is mainly going to follow the cannon story line (events wise at least). With some deviations here and there of course. R&R Please.

Now onto the story, I hope you enjoy.

November 2nd, 1981

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they are perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mrs. Dursley began the morning of November the 2nd like any other, not realizing that something sat just outside her door that could change the rest of their lives. She woke early, and started preparing breakfast for when Vernon and her precious DiddyKins decided to wake. Everything came to a screeching halt however, when she opened the door to put out the milk bottles. At the sight of the bundle of cloth she let out a scream, dropped the bottles, and promptly slammed the door closed. She hastily peered through the peep hole and squeaked when she confirmed, that there was indeed a baby on her doorstep. A couple seconds later she heard her husband quickly stumble down the staircase, being woken up by her scream.

"Petunia, s' the matter?" he asked somewhat groggily.

"Vernon, oh Vernon, look," she said, quickly opening the door and pointing at the bundle under the eaves. This successfully rouses him, he quickly sticks his head out the door and looks up and down the street.

"Quickly Petunia, bring it inside before the neighbors see," he whispers urgently, while gesturing to the small bundle. Petunia quickly scurries outside and snatches the child before retreating into the safety of their entryway. As Vernon closes the door Petunia takes the bundle into the kitchen and sets it on the table. She slowly unwraps it, revealing the small form of a baby, probably no older than their own that's currently sleeping upstairs.

"What's it doing here?" Vernon huffs, somewhat grumpy at being woken up at such an early hour, and being laden with someone elses brat didn't make him any happier. That's when Petunia noticed the letter clutched in the infants hand. She took it and noticing her name written in loopy lettering on the front, opened it. As she read the letter her skin took on chalky pallor, she shakily hands the letter to her husband. When Vernon reads the letter however, his skin starts turning a rather unattractive puce color.

"What are we going to do Vernon?" Petunia questioned, looking pointedly towards the still sleeping infant.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, we're going to take this thing and get rid of it." Vernon said as he started towards the entryway to grab his coat.

"But Vernon, the letter..." Petunia started.

"No buts Pet, those freaks have no right to threaten us." he interrupts. "Keep it indeed, who do they think they are, ordering us around like that, I'll show them," he mutters while slipping on his loafers.

"Bring it here so we can be rid of the ruddy thing," Vernon says, stepping into the garage and starting up his car. Petunia grabs the child and carry's her through the house. She hands it to her husband knowing that she'll probably never see her sister's child again.

Vernon drove quickly out of the neighborhood, and set off towards London proper. With no firm plan in place he drove for a while until he finally spotted a slightly run down orphanage by the name St. Catherine's. Pulling up to the entrance, he hastily grabs the child and almost throws it down onto the doormat, and without bothering to knock, returns to his car and drives away.

Kathy Drake had spent the last few years working at St. Catherine's. Even though the pay wasn't the best, she enjoyed working with the children and found the experience to be rewarding. She had just started her morning at the front desk when she hears muffled whimpering coming through the front door. She stands up and curiously opens the door. She gasps when she sees the slightly blue face of the baby lying on the doorstep. She grabs the child, and watches sadly as it immediately cuddles into the warmth her arms provide. She hastily closes the door against the morning chill, and approaches her desk. Right as she's about to start her examination, she notices something on the blanket. Embroidered in red thread on the golden fabric, is a name.

'Haesel Lillian Potter'