Harry's childhood with the Dursley's was not typical. From the time he arrived to his eighth birthday, he was treated as nothing more than a nuisance, something the Dursley's had to put up with. Dudley would play Harry Hunting with Piers and Dennis, and his Aunt and Uncle did nothing to stop it. It was during one of these 'games' that Harry realised he really was different. The school yard had been void of students when Harry barrelled round the corner and hid behind the bins.

It didn't take long for Dudley and his friends to find him and they were just pushing the bins out of the way when Harry wished as hard as he could that he was out of reach. A pulse seemed to fill his head, and he opened his eyes to find himself on the roof of the grade one's classroom. He gasped and stuck his arms out to steady himself as he lost his footing on the guttering. Below, Dudley scowled in confusion, "I'm going to tell Dad on you! You're not allowed on the rooves!"

Harry just laughed, "Yeah, yeah!", and ran over the rooftops to the other side of the building where he could climb down onto a bench below.

Over the next few months, more events occurred, his grade three teacher's hair changed colour, Dudley's toys always managed to get lost, even when he was guarding them quite staunchly. He would be sitting watching the afternoon programmes on telly, and whatever toy he was carrying at the time would always lodge firmly behind the cushions of the couch, and no matter how tightly Dudley would hold on, as soon as he was distracted, (which was fairly frequently), it would vanish between the cushions. Harry would watch secretly from the kitchen, laughing as he pushed it a little further with his magic.

His aunt caught him a few times, and kept an eye out for her young nephew, making sure he was distracted with chores whenever he appeared to be troublesome.

It was nearing his ninth birthday when the situation reached a turning point. It was the summer break and Petunia was doing her weekly clean, making everything spotless. Her thoughts ran onto the topic of her nephew. She didn't know a lot about the wizarding world, but she had grown up with a magical sibling and from what she remembered, Lily had been nowhere near as precocious as Harry seemed. The only signs she had shown of becoming a witch, and Petunia shuddered even to think the term, had been a few accidents when she was quite little, and then nothing until she had turned eleven.

The truth of the matter was that she was scared of him. Petunia gathered up the box of detergents, bleach and cloths, and made her way to the top of the stairs. He wasn't normal; he was freakier than any of the freaks. She heard the front door open, and saw the object of her thoughts enter the house after mowing the front lawn.

In the next moment, several things happened at once. Dudley made an appearance of his own, slamming open the door of his bedroom and yelling "MUM" at the top of his voice. Petunia, who hadn't even known he was in the house -surely she would have heard him come in- jumped in a half turn to the sound of his voice, catching her foot on the edge of a step. In what seemed like an instant, she was falling through the air, and Dudley looked on, frozen in fear as his Mummy went down.

Had anyone been watching Harry that instant, they would have seen his eyes turn gold for a moment as he slowed down time. He thought quickly and used his magic to pull the couch from the living room to the bottom of the staircase. Time sped up again, and Petunia landed heavily on the couch, all the air pushed out of her, but otherwise completely fine.

"Oh my goodness," was all she could say at first, "Oh my goodness..." Her breath returning, she turned to Harry, "Did you do that?" She asked insistently, "How did you do that? Did you put that couch there?"

Harry shrunk back from her intensity, unsure, "Er, I didn't mean to, I just, you were falling... I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

Petunia shoved the couch out of the way and knelt in front of Harry, "Thank you, Harry."

Coming out of shock, Dudley ran down the stairs, sounding like a little elephant, "Mum! Mum! Mummy!"

Petunia turned immediately to her baby and clasped him in a hug, "It's alright, darling, Mummy's fine, she just had a little fall."

Harry stared at the two, eyes darkening, as they babbled to each other about how everything was all right.

That evening, Petunia went up to the attic, where she kept her dead sister's belongings. Rifling through the trunks, she finally found what she was looking for, an address. She carefully closed all the boxes, and shut the attic door, leaving it looking as though it had never been disturbed. Vernon sat in the lounge, laughing at his programme, and Petunia sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, writing a letter to someone who she hoped would be able to help.

I'm sorry this took so long. I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but I figure it's better to put it out there and continue with the story rather than fussing over it any more.