Hi people! I am from now on going to update as frequently as possible. And for the matter of this story I have two polls for you guys:

1. What year of Hogwarts should Percy find out about Camp Half-blood?

a. Second

b. Third

c. Fourth

d. Fifth

2. Who should Percy/Harry be paired with later in the story?

a. Annabeth

b. Ginny

c. Other (suggest who you want him to be paired with!)

Beta'd by Tarnished Silver Things

Disclaimer: I'm still in middle school. Do you really think I'm JKR or Rick Riordan?

Now on to the story!

My day was going pretty bad eve before a giant knocked down my door.

Then it got even worse.

You see, I didn't want to be a wizard. Or live with the Dursleys. Or even meet Dudley. But you don't always get what you want do you?

My name is Harry Potter. I'm eleven years old and I live with my Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin. Saying they hate me and my parents and that's putting it kindly. I personally think they only took me in after my parents died - in a car accident because my dad was drunk. The Dursley's love to remind me of that. It's also the only thing I know about my parents - so that I could be their own slave. Because that's how they treat me.

I sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.

Dudley is my spoiled, chubby, insufferably obnoxious cousin. He has never worked a day in his life. He is such a couch potato that on the weekends, he only stops watching television to go to the bathroom. He even makes his "Mummy" bring him food during his lunchtime and breakfast, and dinner shows. He only goes to school on Monday because Aunt Petunia forces him to; it's the one thing she insists on with him. He has always treated me like I was the bane of his existence. Every time I saw him when no adults were watching, he would beat me up. I really don't know how I made it out of the first grade, when he started making friends to beat me up more. A few times were really weird . . .

Once, when I was running from Dudley and his gang again, I ran as fast as I could but somehow, the prospect of beating me up was wonderful enough to make Dudley run even faster than me. So I jumped over the fence blocking me from the best hiding places I knew, by the school kitchens. I closed my eyes and jumped behind the trash cans. I listened cautiously, waiting for them to run straight by me. After I heard the sound of their footsteps get quieter and quieter, I dared to open my eyes. What I saw shocked me, I was on the school's roof!

Aunt Petunia was my mother's sister. But you couldn't even tell because she pretends that she never even had a sister. I wonder if she and my Mum looked alike. I hope not. I don't know why Aunt Petunia hates my parents so much, she only ever says they were freaks and, in my mum's case 'a drunken **.' She's a skinny, boney person, the exact opposite of her husband and son. She has a long skinny neck which is only so long because she stretched it out craning her neck to spy on the neighbors.

Uncle Vernon looks just like Dudley only a lot older. And fatter too. He's like Dudley also in being practically obsessed with what he does. While Dudley is obsessed with television, Uncle Vernon is obsessed with drills. That's what he does for the majority of the day and then on the days he invites his employers over for dinner, even Dudley has to act like a decent human being. I get to be locked away and not make any noise.

But back to my day. My week actually, because it all started when someone dared write to me, the freak. It was a usual morning when I was sent to fetch the mail. There were four different pieces, a bill and an ad for houses in the neighborhood and another bill and then a strange letter with green ink addressed to… me. I flipped over the letter and saw a strange crest on it. There were four animals, a lion, a snake, a raven, and a badger, with an H in the middle. It said on the front:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey, England

At first I wondered why this person was writing to me. Then I wondered how do they know where I sleep? I started to walk into the living room, slowly carrying the mail as if it was a bomb ticking down to its own self-explosion.

I handed the two bills and the ad to Uncle Vernon and started to open my letter.

Then Dudley took that moment to but in, "Dad, Harry's got something!"

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "Give it here!" Before I could respond, the letter was ripped out of my hands and he opened it, scanned the paper, and all the blood seemed to disappear from his face.

"Petunia!" He called out. "Come here!" His voice was raised slightly to a more a high-pitched sound.

Aunt Petunia came over, looked at the letter, and had the same exact reaction. They whispered quietly to each other and I heard them say things like, "How do they know where he sleeps?'" "I don't know, Petunia." and then after a while she came up to my door and said, "Harry, you're getting a little too big for your cupboard. We want you to move into Dudley's second bedroom. Go move your things. Now."

I went to my cupboard and grabbed my stuff and took it up to Dudley's second bedroom, which held broken toys and untouched books, and I only took one trip upstairs, showing how little I owned. As I lay down on the bed, I heard Dudley complain to his Mum, "But I NEED that room! He can't stay in it!"

Well, that's too bad for you, Mr. That's-My-Room-For-All-My-Toys. Apparently your parents are sticking to their decision of me moving into the house junkyard. And I had a sinking feeling that it was all because of that letter, and the fact that the writer of it knew where I slept. Another letter arrived the next day.

But this time it said:

Mr. H. Potter

The Smallest Bedroom

Little Whinging

Surrey, England

Uncle Vernon took the letter from me again and yet again the blood drained out his face. That evening he even slept right outside the door to stop me from seeing the letters. But every day the amount sent doubled. Then Uncle Vernon took a day off of work just to nail shut the mail slot and the door.

But we received a dozen more letters when the milkman delivered 12 bottles of milk through the kitchen window curled up under the bottles. I think Uncle Vernon may have really gone mad at that point.

The next day was Sunday and he finally relaxed. "No post on Sundays." He announced. "No more of those letters today." And then one flew down the fireplace and hit him in the face.

More and more and more letters came flying down into the room and I jumped up, trying to catch one. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were covering their heads and squealing in pain whenever a letter hit one of them. Then Uncle Vernon reached out and grabbed me, carrying me out of the room. Before I could look at a single letter.

Vernon Dursley gathered us all in the front hall and he had a peculiar look on his face, and I could tell he had an idea. Probably one I wouldn't like.

He said, "Everyone pack a bag and then get in the car. Be outside in ten minutes." After packing a bag each we all got in the car and started off to who knows where.

Even my uncle didn't appear to know where he was going but as he said quietly to himself, that he was trying to throw them off. After all the right turns, left turns, and U-turns, we finally got out of the car standing in front of the Railview hotel, on the outskirts of a big city.

We spent the night there, but, in the morning, at breakfast, the hotel manager came up to them and asked, "Which one of you is Harry Potter? I have about a hundred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so we could see the green-inked address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

I reached out to grab it but Uncle Vernon knocked my hand out of the way to the astonishment the manager. The Uncle Vernon said gruffly, "I'll take them." He came back, after following the manager to the front desk, holding a giant bag full of letters. But those letters soon were torn to pieces by Aunt Petunia and thrown into a trash can as soon as she was finished. And, of course, I didn't see one word of my letters!

Vernon Dursley was dedicated. Dedicated to finding a place where no one could find us or reach us for delivering mail. Eventually, we ended up at the shore. It was rocky and cold and in the middle of nowhere.

He left the car and locked the rest of us in and Dudley finally dared to ask a question, "Mummy?"

"Yes?"

"Has Daddy gone mad?" I barely managed to stifle my laughter. His Daddy was already mad in my opinion. After all, what sane person would run away from a letter?

Aunt Petunia didn't answer that question because Uncle Vernon had returned with a crazed look and an eerie smile on his face. He opened the car door, forced us all to get out, and then pointed at a man with a crooked smile standing next a rowboat that was big enough for all of us. Oh no, I thought cursing the horrible weather.

Then I heard my loving Uncle say, " This kind man has offered to take us to where we will be staying for the night." He gestured to a rock out in the sea with a little shack on top of it. "Don't worry, Petunia, I already got us some previsions. And no, Dudley, that shack doesn't have television. So everyone hop into the boat!"

Great, just great, I thought as we were slowly rowed out to sea. Even though I loved the sea and the way the boat rocked on top of the water and the smell of the salty air but I did not want to spend my birthday on that rock. I would be turning elven tomorrow while sleeping on the cold floor in a cold shack on a cold rock. And I knew I wasn't going to get any presents from the Dursleys.

Inside the shack, I found the softest spot of floor and then curled up to go to sleep. I watched Dudley, sleeping on the couch covered with a blanket and heard Uncle Vernon snoring from the other room. I waited and watched Dudley's watch for hours, waiting for it to be midnight.

As soon as I heard it go BEEP! there was a pounding on the front door of the shack. It was so loud and force full that it woke up all the Dursleys and the whole shack began to shake. I saw out of the corner of my eye, Uncle Vernon with Aunt Petunia slowly walking into the room with a rifle. Where they got that, I have no idea. Then the door fell down and a giant of a man stepped into the room. He looked at all of us and asked,

"Which one of you is Harry Potter?"

I couldn't resist leaving that as a cliff hanger! I can't wait to write the next chapter! Please review, it makes me want to update faster!

P.S. This is your Christmas/New Year present from me!