Chapter three

31st July 1986

The muffled sound of the television in the living room was the only thing that six year old Harry Potter could hear. His Uncle, Aunt and cousin made absolutely no sound as the sat it front of it, totally absorbed by what they were watching. Any normal six year old boy would be playing with toys, watching tv right along side them, reading a comic, or any number of other things. But Harry was not any normal six year old, he was different, for example, today was his sixth birthday, most normal six year olds would have had a special breakfast, or had friends around to play, or their parents would have had something special planned. But not Harry, he was despised for what he was, a wizard. He had been left with his with his mothers sisters family by people who never even bothered to check up on him.

Harry's day had started like every other day, at five thirty in the morning, no one had to wake him, he had no alarm clock or any other means of making sure he woke up on time, experience had taught him a harsh lesson, if he wasn't up on time to make the others breakfast, he was beaten, severely. So far in his young life, he had received two broken arms, one broken leg, five broken ribs, had his jaw bone fractured twice, and twelve teeth had been knocked out. Most normal children would have either died because of this sort of abuse, or would have been taken into care by the authorities. But the authorities didn't even know the Harry existed, unlike his cousin, Dudley, he didn't go to school, he had no birth certificate, the only muggles that were aware of him were in the house right now, and that suited them just fine. Given time, normal wizards would have had their magic repair those kind of injuries for them, a lot faster than was ordinarily possible. But Harry's injuries were repaired almost instantaneously, without even taxing has still immature magical core. Bones straightened and snapped back into place, teeth re grew and cuts and bruises healed themselves without any outside intervention whatsoever. The only downside to this was that it infuriated his relations even more.

His day had gone reasonably well, he had made every one their morning meal, he had even managed to sneak himself a couple of bits of toast. The others had left him alone after that leaving him to get on with the chores he had to do daily, the washing, ironing, cleaning and vacuuming. He had then prepared the midday meal for his aunt and cousin, being a Thursday his Uncle was at Grunnings, the drill making company for which he worked. After he had done the washing up, he was expected not to be seen until he had to make the evening meal, making sure it was on the table five minuets after his uncle returned from work. Today, like every other day, he had retreated to the cupboard under the stairs, the only place in the four bed roomed house he was allowed to sleep; today, like everyday, he had allowed his concentration to slip so he could go and visit Ginny in her house, he had learned as soon as she had learnt to talk, that she hated the name Ginevra, the link he had with her was the only thing that was joyous in his miserable excuse for a life.

He had felt their link strengthen over the past year, he could see everything she saw, smell everything she smelt, hear everything she heard, taste everything she drank or ate and feel everything she touched. If she hurt herself, he felt the pain, if she learnt something, he knew it to. That was why he was so good at maths and English, despite his family never teaching him anything except how to do his chores properly. Harry was unsure if Ginny knew of his presence, but as the link had strengthened, he had caught her looking at her hands when he was holding something hot, or shielding her eyes when he looked at the sun. What pleased him most though, was when she looked into a mirror, he loved to look at her as she brushed her long red hair, no, red wasn't the best colour to describe it , it was as though each strand was a slightly different shade, combining to form a indescribable kaleidoscope of red. When the sun shone through the window behind the mirror, it was as though her head was surrounded by a halo of fire, a dancing, living entity, that shone with a vibrancy that chilled him to the bone.

Her face was heart shaped, with a smattering of freckles over a cute little button nose, with full pale lips. Her most striking feature by far were her eyes, almond shaped, pale brown in colour with a hint of gold near the center of the iris. They blazed with an intensity and passion he had never seen before, despite this they were always smiling, hinting at a life full of joy and fun, without a care in the world. Those eyes would haunt Harry where ever he went.

He had known of magic for as long as he could remember, he had seen Ginny's mum and dad, Molly and Arthur, doing magic around their house, outside in their garden, normal everyday spells and charms that made life that little bit easier. So far he had not attempted any magic himself, not because he didn't have a wand like Ginny's parents did, but because he knew that if he did, he would get the beating of a lifetime. He had been tempted to do magic for a long time though, to see if he could copy what he had seen Ginny's parents doing, to see if it could make his life any easier. Laying awake after he went to bed, usually after he had finished the evening meals washing up, he had felt his magic coursing through him, it felt strong, it felt powerful, as if wanting to be released.

Today had stopped going so well when his uncle, Vernon Dursley, had returned home, he had complained that his potato's were cold, and had refused to eat them After he had finished the rest of the meal, the huge, obese man had gone out to the garden shed, picked up a cricket bat, and gone back inside in search of Harry. Harry was in the kitchen at the time, finishing off the last of the washing up. His uncle strode up behind him, lifted the bat high into the air, a brought it down intending to finish off the little freak in front of him once and for all. Harry heard his uncle approaching just in time, hands still covered in suds, he closed his eyes and raised his right arm, instinctively trying to protect his head. The blow never came, instead Harry heard the sound of the willow bat splintering. Opening his eyes, he saw his uncle looking at the shattered handle of the bat stupidly, as if not comprehending what had happened. The rest of the bat lay on the highly polished kitchen floor.

Harry then understood what had occurred, he had felt his magic respond to the threat his uncle imposed, channeling itself into his arm, and protecting him.

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!" Bellowed his uncle, angry but frightened at the same time. Walking past his aunt, Petunia, who had witnessed, and ignored, the whole drama, Harry made his way down the hall, he heard someone, probably his uncle, following him. As soon as he entered the cupboard under the stairs, the door was slammed behind him. A short while later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a plank being screwed into place across the doorway. His uncles voice then boomed through the small vent near the top of the door.

"I'd like to see how long you can survive without food and water you fucking little shit. Die quickly, I want my cupboard back!"

Then heard a second person approach the door, "why can't we just dump him at an orphanage? "he heard his uncle ask.

"Because of that interfering old fool, at that school for freaks would find out. He would force us to take him back. This way we'll be rid of him for good, he won't be able to do us or Dudley any harm. He's only six, and you've just seen what he's capable of. No, this for the best, as soon as he's dead, we'll move. Those freaks won't be able to trace us if we're careful."

All he heard from outside the door was a grunt in response from his uncle.

The next five days were the most frightening of Harry's life, his uncle had made good on his promise of no food or water, any noise he made was rewarded by his uncle banging on the door and telling him to "shut the fuck up". He had been forced to use the one of the corners under the stairs to go to the toilet, and now the smell was almost unbearable. At first he had spent some of the time visiting Ginny's house through her, but the sight of a kind, loving, caring family only caused him to get depressed. On the sixth day he started to panic, he had no idea how long he had been locked up, no idea what the time was, the only thing he did know, was that he didn't have long left. He had heard his uncle leave for work, and his aunt take Dudley to school, so he knew the house was empty. Closing his eyes, he used the link to see what Ginny was doing, she was lounging by a wide, deep, pond; sunlight streaming through the leaves of trees that grew around it. As far as he could tell, she was alone, calling on the last of his strength and all of his magic, he screamed her name out loud.

"GINNY!"

Two hundred and twelve miles to the west of him, a little girl, just about to turn five, sat up abruptly. Someone had called her, she was sure of that, but who? Her mother was in the house, her father was at work, her two eldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, charged with her safety, had gone off on their own, Ron and the twins were degnomeing the vegetable garden, closer to the house, the other side of the small orchard. Her sixth brother, Percy was visiting her aunt Muriel. Seeing nobody close, she tentatively spoke, "Hello"

Back in his cupboard, Harry was having trouble controlling his magic, never before had he let it have free reign, it felt as if a dam had burst inside him, and now his magic was quickly filling him up. Not knowing what to do, he focused it at the link with Ginny, unknowingly opening it wide. He was flooded with what he could only describe as everything 'Ginny', her likes, her dislikes, her emotions, love, hate, anger, kindness, and a lot more that he never even knew existed. He had thought he knew her quite well, but now it felt as if he was part her, and she part of him.

In a blind panic, he searched through her memories, which were now as vivid as his own, for something, anything, to help him. Going through everything she had done today, yesterday, the day before, eventually he found a suitable one, "yes!" he cried in relief. Concentrating on the memory, he brought it to the front of her mind.

Ginny was still looking around for the scared sounding little boy that had called out her name. when a memory forced itself into her minds eye.

"Harry Potter", she whispered to herself, "Harry Potter", she said a little louder. Why was she thinking of Harry Potter? She hadn't heard one of her father's 'Boy-Who-Lived' stories for a couple of days, she had been meaning to ask her father for one this evening, when she went to bed. But what was causing her to think of him now?

'Ginny', Harry thought, picturing her reflection in the mirror. 'Ginny, speak to me, please, use your magic, speak to me'

Little Ginny was now getting very scared, although she would never admit it, not only did she hear someone call to her when there was clearly nobody about, now she was hearing a voice inside her head, this was far from normal, even for a witch. 'Hello, who are you?' she thought back tentatively after a few moments.

'Thank you, thank you for answering me, I know your frightened, don't be, I don't want to hurt you. My name is Harry Potter, the boy who your daddy tells you stories about sometimes, when you go to bed.'

Ginny pouted, like only a four, nearly five year old girl, can do. how dare anyone, even someone in her head, tell her that she was frightened.

'I'm not frightened, you made me jump, that's all...how are you talking to me anyway? Are you really The-Boy-Who-Lived, the one who beat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, when you were a tiny baby?

If he were not so weak from lack of food, Harry would have laughed at the feelings of indignation and inquisitiveness flowing off of her.

'I don't know about the rest of that stuff, but I guess I'm using magic to talk to you'

'Cool', replied Ginny 'you must be really powerful to do this, daddy said you beat the most evilest, naughtiest, badest, wizard ever, without a wand or anything!'

'like i said, I don't remember any of that stuff, but I need your help Ginny'

'How do you know my name? Mummy said to never tell strangers your name, and how do you know daddy tells me your stories at bedtime?

Harry could tell that Ginny was getting over the shock of having someone talk to her in her head, so instead of trying to answer her questions, he sent her all his memories, everything he could recall, everything he had experienced, he didn't send it all in one go, that would have been to much, instead he trickled it through. After about ten minuets, he finished.

Ginny sat there wide eyed, her initial doubts about the link completely gone, she felt her magic stirring, unconsciously making her end of the link stronger;she now shared with Harry everything he shared with her. She could see through his eyes, which made her wonder why he was in almost complete darkness,

she could feel his severe hunger and thirst, she could smell the stench in the cupboard, and she could feel how absolutely terrified he was of his family.

Without conscious thought, she sprinted as fast as she could, from the pond, towards the house, screaming "MUMMY, MUMMY" over and over, at the top of her lungs.

Ignoring her two eldest brothers who had started to follow her from the tree house they were building. She ran through the orchard, past the vegetable garden, where Ron, with George and Fred, her twin brothers, half stooped from their search for gnomes, looked at her with shook; right up to the kitchen door, slamming it open, she ran through to the pantry which her mother had just come out of after hearing her daughter screaming for her.

"Come quick, come quick, you have to save him, their killing him, you've got to do something, please mummy, help him!"

Molly Weasley looked form her daughter to the kitchen door, where her sons, after hearing their sisters screaming, had gathered. She was expecting to see one of them missing, but they were all there.

"Who Ginny, who's killing who?"

"HARRY POTTER!" She screamed "Please help him, he's dying", and with that she broke down sobbing.

"What have you been telling her" she said to her sons, who were still gathered by the door, the blank look she received from all of them told her that whatever had upset her daughter, had not been caused by any of them.

"Did you fall asleep? maybe you had a bad dream darling", she asked her whilst raising a questioning eyebrow at Bill and Charlie, who were supposed to have been looking after her. Their guilty glances at each other was not missed by Molly.

"I'll deal with you two later"

From his cupboard, Harry had seen and heard everything as clearly as if he had been there, 'please make her believe you, I need your help Ginny'

"He needs my help now, please take me there mummy" she sobbed to her mother.

"I'm sorry Ginny, I can't, I don't even know where he is, now calm yourself, and tell me how you know this" Molly replied in a soothing voice.

Hearing this through Ginny, Harry felt his hope fade, she was the only way he could see of getting out of there. Summoning his magic, he concentrated on Ginny, and pulled. He could feel his magic doing what he wanted it to, he wanted her to be with him, to be able to rescue him.

Ginny felt a pull on her magic, she knew the pull came from Harry, so she just let it take her, knowing instinctively that she would come to no harm. Taking a firm hold of her mother, she looked up at her.

"I can't tell you mummy, i don't now how myself, but I can take you to him.

"how..." was all that Molly could say before she and her daughter disappeared from the kitchen of their home without a sound.

Instantaneously they reappeared in the hallway of an obviously muggle home, Molly slowly rose from the kneeling position where she had been comforting her daughter a few moments ago, looking around at the spotless decor of the house they were now in. "Where...?" was all she managed to say. Ginny however had rushed over to the cupboard door, grabbed the handle, and using all her strength, pulled. The short plank screwed to the door frame didn't budge though.

"Mummy, mummy, he's in here, he's trapped"

Shaking her head to try and clear it, Molly withdrew her wand from her apron pocket, aimed it at one of the screws buried deep into the wood, and muttered "Accio screw", the screw came flying straight out, splintering the wood as it did, and hit the wall opposite. She repeated this for the other five screws, when the last one had come out, the plank fell to floor, kicking it aside, she flung the door open.

What she found when she looked in the cupboard, would stay with her for the rest of her life. Various things impacted her senses at the same time, each one trying to be more horrific than the next. The first, and most obvious, was the smell, the horrendous stench that came from the tiny enclosed space almost made her lose her breakfast. She had to take a step back, it was so overpowering.

The next was the sight of a child, a terrified half dead child, arms and legs so thin, they looked like sticks. Hair, long, greasy and matted, fell over his ears and forehead, he was dressed in only underpants, which at one time might have been white, but now she could not be sure. Surrounding him were rags, obviously meant to be his bed covers, although there was no sign of a bed, just the cold hard concrete floor. She could quite easily count his ribs, so pronounced were they through his pale skin. His eyes, the colour of emeralds, shone out at her from the darkness, hope, relief, and deep, deep, gratitude showing clearly in them.

The last though, was the feeling of absolute power radiating from the emancipated child in front of her, so much power it scared her.

Ginny squeezed past her, into the tiny space, crouching down, she took one of Harry's hands in her's

"Cor, you stink, lets take you home to properly meet my brothers, you'll like them."

In the north west of the Scottish Highlands, stood Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at the top of one of the taller towers was the office of the headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. At this particular moment in time he was very contented, he had just finished an early meeting with the school board of govoners, and had got his way on everything he wanted. He had complete control over hiring and firing of staff, complete control over all budgeting, and most importantly, complete control over what was taught. this had been an issue with the Ministry for many years, but they had finally relented. Yes, today was a very good day indeed.

A loud whistle from one of the delicate instruments on a bookshelf changed his mood dramatically, this couldn't be, it had to be a mistake. that single whistle indicated the blood wards, so carefully crafted by himself five years ago, had been breached by a witch or wizard. Grabing his wand from where he had left it on his desk, he apperated into the back garden of number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surry. Opening the rear door with a quick 'Alohomora' he made his way quickly through the ground floor of the house, finding it deserted, he went to the already open front door. Looking out, down the perfectly straight garden path, leading to the deserted road, he saw a short dumpy woman, with bright ginger hair, a young girl, no more than four or five, and in the arms of the woman, what he thought was a house elf, just about to exit the garden.

"Stop!", commanded Dumbledore.

Molly spun round at the sound of his voice, wand already in her free hand, pointing straight at him. "Albus, thank Merlin you're here, we have to get this boy to St. Mungo's, he's been dreadfully abused by those bastard muggles."

Ginny was shocked, her mother never, ever swore, not once, in as long as she could remember. If she heard any of her brothers swear, the punishment were always swift and severe, not that her mother was abusive or cruel, she had never raised a hand to any of them, but at the same time, they knew never to cross her.

If Dumbledore was surprised that the bundle contained a boy, and not an elf, as he first had thought, he didn't show it. Instead he stepped out of the house, and tried to portray the authoritative figure that he knew was so well respected.

"That will not be possible Molly, you see, to take Mr. Potter out of the protection of the blood wards that surround this property, would place him in grave danger. I must insist that you bring him back inside.

Molly placed Harry on the ground beside Ginny, "Please look after him for me Ginny, this shouldn't take long."

Ginny had never seen that particular look on her mothers face before, she had seen expressions that had been close, like when the twins had spellotaped Ron's mouth shut, nearly suffocating him, they had been in so much trouble after that. But looking at her mother now, she knew that the old man in front of them had gone way past even that.

Molly Weasley, five foot nothing of unstoppable force, turned around and marched up to Dumbledore, stopping only inches away from him, looked up and asked in a strained but polite tone; "do you mean to tell me you knew about this? You knew he was living in these conditions? You knew he was being treated worse than an animal?"

If any of her family, her husband included, had been spoken to by her in such a tone, they would have ran for their lives. But Dumbledore was trying his hardest not to be intimidated by the indomitable witch in front of him. Instead he tried his most Grandfatherly voice, the one he had used that very morning to get his way with the board of governors.

"My dear Molly, it can't be that bad surely? I know these muggles are not the best sort, but he is safe here; he may be a little thin, but I'm sure if I talk to his relatives, they will make sure he eats more. Now why don't we put Harry back in the house, and I assure you I will make sure that no more will be said of this. I suggest you collect your daughter, and we go to the Burrow and discuss this over a cup of your delicious tea."

Molly was beyond furious, this meddling old fool thought the poor boy wrapped up in the dirty stinking rags, was just a bit thin!

"That is not just thin, he is dangerously emancipated, he could be dead in a few more days, he was trapped in a cupboard under their stairs, He. Will. Not. Be. Staying. Here!"

As Molly spoke, the volume and, in relation, her anger, rose. She knew that she had never been this angry before, and if the meddling old fool in front of her was not very careful, he would wind up seriously hurt, powerful wizard though he was.

"That is simply not possible Molly, he has to stay, why don't we go inside, I think the neighbours may be watching"

With that, Dumbledore nodded to the house next door, number two, where the curtains were twitching.

"Well there maybe one way that I'll let him stay." Molly replied, in a much quieter voice, totally ignoring his request to go inside.

Dumbledores eyes twinkled merrily, whatever the interfering housewife wanted, he was sure that it wasn't going to be to difficult to give her. Then he could concentrate on more important matters, like how they had breached his wards in the first place.

"Whatever it is Molly, I'm sure we can reach a compromise to make everyone involved happy."

"Well Albus, the only way I can possibly let Harry stay, WILL BE OVER MY STONE COLD DEAD BODY!"

With that she whipped her wand up and held it right under the unsuspecting wizards nose. Dumbledore weighed his options carefully, he had no doubt that he could defeat her even though his wand was still tucked away in his robes, there was no way she could be as powerful or skilled as Grindewald or Voldemort, was there? But there were to many muggles around, the obliviators from Ministry would have to be called, and they would ask awkward questions. Questions he was not prepared to answer at the moment. No the best course of action would be to admit defeat gracefully, he could always take the boy back at a later.

"As you wish Molly, I do hope however that you will reconsider at a later date."

With that, he took a step back, gave a slight bow, and turned back into the house so that he could disapperate back to Hogwarts.

Molly huffed, after a moment to get her temper back in check, she turned back to the children. "Now then, lets get you both home, I think a drink is called for, then I need to write some letters."

She said the last to herself, as she knew that Dumbledore did not usually give in so easily. She was formulating plans to prevent him from trying to take the boy sometime in the future. Picking Harry up off of the perfectly manicured grass, she held her daughters hand, after checking no muggles were looking, and tried to disapperate to the Burrow. Nothing happened, she was still standing in the front garden of number four.

"Ok then kids, looks like we are going to have to get away form those nasty wards that Dumbledore spoke about." With that she turned, and started walking down the street. Five minuets later, she felt that they had moved far enough away to be able to attempt to dasapperate again. Just as she was about to spin, she noticed a thin, horsey faced woman approaching on the same side of the road as them. Although she didn't really care about muggles seeing her do magic in an emergency, she knew that she would have trouble with the Ministry if she performed it without being at least a bit careful. So she decided to wait until the woman had past.

She knew something was wrong when she felt Harry stiffen in her arms, his bright green eyes wide with terror, she then felt a warm liquid run down her side, whoever this woman was, had made him so scared he had wet himself.

It was Ginny's insistent tugging on her other hand that next got her attention, looking down at her daughter, she saw the same look of terror mirrored on her face.

"It's her mummy, it's his aunt, don't let her take him!"

Molly moved into the woman's path, blocking her path.

Petunia walked up to the strangely dressed woman and her daughter, looking down her nose at them as she did so, riffraff like them didn't belong in this neighbourhood, what was the place coming to? She would be be glad when she, Vernon and Dudley moved somewhere nicer.

"Excuse me", she said in her 'I'm better than you' voice.

But the strange woman refused to move, it was then she noticed the bundle held in the woman's arms, a bit old to be having babies, was all she thought to herself as she stepped into the road in order to get around the weird family. She was brought to a halt when the dumpy little woman let go of the little girls hand, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a wand. She recognized it for what it was because her sister had had one when she went to that school for freaks.

Molly made no effort to hide her anger this time, stepping up close to the despicable excuse for a human being in front of her, she slowly and forcefully spoke.

"It is at times like these, that I wish we had no statute of secrecy, it is at times these that I wish I was allowed to simply kill you, and do the rest of the world a favour. But I'm not, but let me tell you this, if I ever see you again, I'll happily change you into a toilet roll, and we both know what there're used for, don't we, consequences be damned!"

With that, Molly barged past her, almost knocking Petunia into the path of a passing car. When she felt she was calm enough, and far enough away, she turned into a narrow alley, and successfully disaperated home.