It had been exactly 63 days since Harry Potter had started reading Philosherphers stone. In fact the Boy Who Lived just finished the last installment in the book series, 'Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows'.

But first lets talk about what happened during those two months. When Harry first started reading he didn't want to stop. No one can blame him, but there was the slight problem with this idea.

R-E-A-L- L-I-F-E.

No one can avoid it, and that's excessively if your name is Harry Potter.

Harry's only time to read were between three-thirty-why school ended- and five-he had to get home to help make dinner. The fact Dudley and his gang favorite game was Harry Hunting, meant he had to move often. And it's not like Harry could skip school all the time, imagine the look on Aunt Petunia's face if Harry was caught by a truancy officer. It would probably be a very funny one though.

Dudley had gotten a set of flashlights for his birthday. In the set there four metallic black flashlights in all different sizes. When Dudley unwrapped this present he deemed it as "Boring" so it went into his second bedroom. At the time, Harry had three books to go and had just finished 'Goblet of Fire'. Lord Vordemort would come back in six years. He needed to know what happened. So what did was when Aunt Petunia told Harry to dust the guest room, he just sneaked across to Dudley's second bedroom and borrowed 'cough,cough' the third biggest flashlight. 'James Bond makes this look a whole lot harder.' Harry thought while stashing the flashlight in his cupboard.

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On June 15th 1989 Harry's school was having a spelling bee, but more importantly Harry had finished reading the series and as you would expect he was trying to figure out what to do with the Horcruxes' (Horcri?) situation, while waiting for his turn. 'How the hell am I supposed to get into Gringotts and steal the cup.' Harry asked himself rhetorically. ' At least I don't have to worry about the one inside me.' It took Harry about three seconds to realize what this meant. ' I have a piece of voldemort's soul inside of me. A piece of very corrupted and most likely the most evil soul, ever to souled. Inside me. It has been their since I was fifteen months old. Oh, God.' At that moment Harry's teacher asked him "Can you spell virtuous?" The ironic is that virtuous means to be a good person. "Harry can you spell virtuous?" the teacher asked again unaware of what was going on in her pupils head, so she was very surprised when Harry emptied his stomach on the floor of her classroom.

Harry was sent to the nurse's office and from there he was given to his Aunt Petunia, who looked at him as if he was a nasty decease. She told him as they were driving home "You will stay in your cupboard for the entire time you're sick, understand." " Yes Aunt Petunia" said the little boy in a dull tone.

Harry was secretly overjoyed at this fact, because it would give him time to think, and after finishing the last book, he realized he didn't have nearly enough.

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When Harry had turned nine he had decided on several things. The Books though very good for finding out what happens with the war, were not very good for learning spells and magic and such. Harry would need to find out more about magic in general, preferably before his eleventh birthday.

Ron and Hermione. They were Book Harry's best friends, and Harry didn't really want to change this. There were many good things about these two. Some people would criticize Ron for leaving or Hermione being to bossy. But Harry rationed it out by realizing that Ron just couldn't get a hold of his emotions, he loved Hermione,and the part before he leaves is just messy for his he did try to come back. Hermione didn't think her ideas where best, she just wanted them to get out of the war alive and not because they gave up and ran away to America or something. Actually Harry liked most of the light side characters, the only person on the light side Harry really hated was his book self. Well, he was okay for the first four years, but then he started acting like a whiny little brat. He was like a skinny Dudley, and even he reformed. Sixth year was fine and the grown up Harry seemed like the first-fourth year Harry.

As you know people usually want to find out who they really are, some people just get a little help from Death. And with a little help Harry figured out who wanted to be. He wanted to be someone who wasn't shaken easily, who didn't take crap, and wasn't a golden boy. Sure, he'd help people with the whole, kill Voldermort thing, but he wouldn't be perfect hero material, and if people criticized him, he wouldn't give a damn.

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October 9th, 1989

"Class, I want you all to make a family tree, going back to at least your grandparents. This means you need to have birth and death dates, if they're dead, and a little bit of information about them." Harry's form teacher, Mrs. Johnson, told the class.

"Oh yeah", Harry muttered to himself " I'm totally going to tell you that my parents were murdered by an evil dark wizard, who's out to kill me too. My Aunt and Uncle hate my guts, and only start to semi only-treat-me-like-dirt-not-dog-poo, when I save Dudley's soul from dementors. I have no idea what happened to my grandparents except one pair lived in Surrey."

Harry sighed as he thought about how little he knew about his grandparents, on both sides. Obviously, Petunia wouldn't stand to have pictures of James' parents on her mantle, but the actual shocking thing is that she didn't have picture's of her parents either.

He was sure that he couldn't ask his Aunt anything, even if Dudley got anything out of her. And even if Harry wasn't particularly bothered by his muggle grades, his relatives were, they didn't want to be better than their Dudders, but not the village idiot. Theirs so long a person can go without food, in a dark, cold, cramped cupboard.

'Maybe the Library will have something', thought Harry as he walked to Little Whingings public library. His Mum's parents had lived in this area, maybe he'd find something about them? 'God, I'm such an optimist.' bitterly he thought as he shuffled in the room with all the newspaper articles. 'I'm supposed to find anything in here.' looking around at the mountainous piles of papers messily filled by... nothing. 'Better get started' Harry sighed, today was not his day.

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No it wasn't just not Harry's day, because it went on for three. Everyday Harry had come back to room and searched through newspapers, although he could read quite fast from reading the books, it still took him two hours to get through a stack, and there where more then twenty in the dusty room.

Harry had read about Smiths, Browns,Jake's,Kaufman, basically every name in existence, but Evens or Potter. It hopeless, he might as well give up and deal with what ever his punishment would be. It's not like his magic couldn't sustain him for week.

Magic.

'Why didn't I think of it before!' Harry had been experimenting with his theory of see when Death had told Harry that the books where guidelines he really did mean guidelines, Harry was pretty sure that it meant everything;the prophecy and rules of Magic knew that the books made wandless Magic sound impossible, but why not. Old stories that Muggle children grow up with, don't all have wands in them. Some used their body to channel their Magic.

All stories are based off the truth. If Magical people in the olden days could preform Magic without wands, why couldn't modern day wizards? Harry assumed it was most likely a forgotten art, like the protection he got from his mother. Even in the books Harry had done pieces of magic without a wand. He had blown up Aunt Marge because he was angry, and lit his wand when it was five meters away from him, he had also wished to be seen by his teacher and he wasn't.

This fact had made Harry theory feasible. He believed that you could do anything with Magic if you had enough will, that magic didn't have to power of your core, but how badly you wanted to preform the Magic. Harry hadn't had a great need to try this theory out so he thought to himself 'Why not try, there doesn't seen to be any better time.'

So that small boy of nine years old just using guess work, summoned upon True Magic, Magic that would only respond to people of truest souls. Souls that didn't have to not have been touched by dark souls, but souls that understood that the world could be as it should, balanced, for their is no light without dark, no power without weakness, and no love without hate. But the world is not as it should that is why their are souls that know if they want that balance they need to fight for it. Harry Potters soul was fighting the best way it could, no hate without love, it was saying to the magic, and the magic responded by summoning a newspaper to Harry's hand. The pages where flipped with a breeze that came from no window, until it stopped and circled a paragraph in the 'Births' section of the paper. Harry read what it said, and it sent his mind spinning. He sat lay down on a table taking in the truth, a most interesting truth.

June 24th 1957

A baby girl, Jocelyn Ann Evens,

was born at 6:03 in the morning

to Marie Parker and Robert Evens.

The baby will be given up for adoption

seeing as the birth parents are both 16.