Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: My Version

This is the first of many Harry Potter compliant fanfiction stories. Basically, I'm writing the story of how Harry Potter began with a few changes… i.e. the pairings. I don't care what people say! HARMONY FOREVER! That's right, I support the true couple of how it should have been written in the book. So I'm writing an altered version of the Harry Potter Series.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. do (Lucky, cruel bastards!)

Pairings: Harry/Hermione(Because they complete each other)

This is my AU where Harry's a tad more angst-ridden and brooding. Hey, come on! You would be too if you spent almost all of your childhood being treated like house-elf! So he's a bit damaged but not broken. That's the heads up.

Anyway, sit back and enjoy.

Chapter 1: The-Boy-Who-Lived

Little Whinging was a moderately-sized town in the English county of Surrey, located in the Southwestern part of Greater London. The houses were of average appearance, each lawn had freshly cut green grass with the average amount of morning dew, and the neighborhood consisted of your average family of 3 or 4. The adults worked at their day-to-day jobs while the children went to school. By the week's end families and friends would make plans to spend time together, before repeating the entire process come Monday.

Yes, in every house you would find nothing but a loving family…

Well…with the exception of House #4 on Privet Drive.

(June 23, 1991)

"Up! Get up!"

Harry Potter, a boy of ten years was rudely awakened by a shrill, nasally voice of a woman coupled with few harsh knocks against the door. He groaned as he sat up from last night's uncomfortable slumber. Wincing and inhaling a sharp intake of breath when he felt the flesh on his back burn painfully. A punishment from few days ago when he accidently dropped the groceries, spilling various contents all over the floor.

He reached up to pull on the light switch to illuminate the area. It was a small cupboard with little-to-no room whatsoever, directly under the stairs. His current height almost took up the entire space. If Harry did not change rooms soon, he sensed he would face sever back problems in the near future.

As he picked up his pair of taped-up, full-moon glasses off the small shelf behind him, thunderous footsteps came running down the stairs above him before stopping just above his cupboard. Then the footsteps began to jump violently in place, making dust fall down upon him.

"Wake up cousin! We're going to the zoo!" a loud boy's voice called out his name before continuing to run downstairs, guffawing mischievously.

With a weary sigh, Harry rose up and proceeded to step out of his small, confined space only to be forcefully shoved back in by a rather plump pig of a boy with dark brown hair who promptly kicked the door closed, much to the bespectacled boy's dismay. His cousin, Dudley Dursley, was always finding new ways to torment him, today being no exception. Even in school he was particularly vicious towards him, along with his equally vile best friend Piers Polkiss, and a few hanger-ons. Beating him in submission, inciting false rumors about him to the entire class, and of course whenever he was feeling especially sadistic at times, which was often, Dudley and his gang would force Harry into becoming the target in a game he created called "Harry Hunting", in which the prey, being Harry, would try to evade and escape from the ones hunting him, lest they catch him and proceed to beat him until they were bored.

After picking himself up, all while ignoring the pain on his back and on the back of his head from hitting the wall, he stepped out his room, again, and made his way to the kitchen.

There he found Dudley being smothered with praise from a tall, lanky woman with dark brown hair dressed in modern-day attire who woke him up a few moments ago. This was his aunt, Petunia Dursley. She was less the loving aunt towards him and more of a shrill, harpy-woman who would force him to do unnecessary tasks in and out of the house such as cooking, cleaning and pulling the weeds.

But Dudley and Petunia paled in comparison to the pain and suffering brought on by the head of the household; his uncle, Vernon Dursley. If Dudley was considered a pig, his uncle was a walrus in the guise of a human. Not only that, but he also had the temperament of one as well. He was largely responsible for most of Harry's recent injuries.

Fortunately, today his horrid relatives were going to be far too busy to give him any more grief, for today was an especially joyous occasion for the Dursleys. Today was Dudley's eleventh birthday. For him that meant more presents he could show off to his fellow classmates. For Vernon and Petunia it meant seeing their child happy by spoiling him rotten.

For Harry, it was a slightly less horrible. All he had to do was focus on cooking and cleaning while making himself as scarce as possible. If he could manage that, the day would not be lost and he could finally get a moment of serenity. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to catch up on his reading.

Petunia stopped gushing over Dudley and sneered as soon as she laid eyes upon her nephew.

"Why don't you start making breakfast? And try not to burn anything." Petunia snarked.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry replied automatically, not making eye contact with her and turned on the stove.

As he started preparing breakfast, he heard his cousin yell at his parents for the amount of presents not being greater than last year's. Harry sighed inwardly at his misfortune of being placed here with such detestable and abusive relatives. Perhaps it was fate's cruel design to watch him suffer as a joke.

"May I be excused?" Harry politely asked, having finished snacking in a few bites from the table scraps.

Vernon grunted, "Be quick about it, boy!"

Harry nodded in approval and hastily walked out of the kitchen. Making a right turn down the hall, he found the door to the washroom on his left. He walked over to the sink and turned both of the faucets to get warm water flowing. He removed his glasses and began to wash his hands and face. When he finished he looked himself in the mirror. If anyone else had a good look at him, they would cry out in fear of the dead walking the earth. The boy had dark rings under his emerald-green eyes, a sign of severe exhaustion from handling the daily chores and a thin, lightning-bolt shaped scar that he assumed was a birthmark of some sorts. His clothes consisted of a large, grey t-shirt and baggy long-pants. They were hand-me-downs from Dudley, several sizes too big for his thin frame. But he would make due, he always did.

After all, it was only a matter of time before he would get his acceptance letter from Stonewall High. Once he did, he would finally know a relatively peaceful life away from the Dursleys.

But unfortunately for him, life had a nasty habit of changing in the most unexpected of ways.

'Damn it all.' Harry cursed to himself as he walked through the zoo, staying a few feet away from his relatives.

It seems that Mrs. Figg, a strange old woman who looked after him every year on Dudley's birthday just to get him out of the Dursleys hair, had broken her leg making her incapable of looking after him. She was not cruel to him by any means, just…odd. For instance, her home tended to smell like cabbages and she would make him look at all the photos of cats she had ever owned throughout the course of her lifetime. But other than that, she was the first person ever to show him any form of warmth towards him, which came as surprise the first time he met her since the only people he was around the most were his pernicious relatives.

But now she was incapacitated, putting all of Harry's plans straight down the shitter. Vernon suggested his wife's friend Yvonne to watch over him, but Petunia had told him that she was on holiday in Majorca. He then suggested his sister Marge, but Petunia reminded him that she too hated Harry as much they did.

This left them with no choice but to let him tag along. Harry offered to stay in the house, but for some reason, they absolutely forbade that notion, stating that they might find their home in ruins. Harry had no earthly idea where they would get the idea that a boy his age could ever destroy a house.

Although, he supposed that he could always set off the gas in the oven and throw a match into the house. But considering he still had his own personal belongings inside, he reckoned in the end he could not go through with it.

And so, the Dursleys reluctantly agreed to let him come, on the condition that he was not to conduct any 'funny business' as Vernon so eloquently put, or he would not be receiving full meals for a week, only scraps.

While Harry's plans did not go accordingly, it would give him the chance to see the zoo for the first time in his life. He had only read about the various animals in his school textbooks. It will be quite the experience to actually see them in person.

Despite dealing with his cousin constantly hitting him as soon as he got bored, Harry was enjoying his time there examining every animal he had never seen before. From the smallest of birds, to the largest of land mammals. The initial amazement wore off after half an hour when he saw how listless and lethargic they were before he came to sobering conclusion.

'They're all prisoners…like me.' Harry thought sadly. Indeed, they were like him although with the exception of them being well fed. Speaking of which, he managed to gain a decent meal for once, even if it was cheap, courtesy of his uncle. It took nearly every ounce of restraint not to eat like he hadn't had a decent meal in ages, lest he be harshly criticized by his aunt.

Afterwards, they all went to the reptile house to look at the snakes, where Dudley set his eyes upon the largest snake in there; the boa constrictor.

When Harry caught view of the serpent, he was surprised to see how large it was in its entirety. Why, it looked big enough and strong enough to crush a large tree trunk or a certain walrus before he popped like a grape. Harry chuckled to himself before banishing such thoughts from his mind when he heard Dudley complain again.

"The snake's not moving!" he whined, his face pressed up against the glass. He did not even bother to notice that the snake was asleep, not wanting to be disturbed from his slumber.

Dudley turned to his father, who was reading his newspaper until his son interrupted him. "Make it move!"

Vernon rapped on the glass, "Move!" he ordered. The snake did not budge an inch.

Getting impatient, Dudley slams one of his meaty hands on the window much harder.

"Move!" Dudley yelled. But the serpent remained still.

"He's asleep." Harry pointed out, not wanting the poor animal to suffer more.

Dudley snorted, "He's boring." He shuffled away, along with Vernon and Petunia to the exhibit across. But Harry did not follow. Instead, he moved closer to the glass separating him from the snake but refrained from initiating physical contact upon the glass, much to the snake's relief.

"Sorry about him." Harry spoke softly, "He just doesn't understand what it's like; lying in there day after day, watching people press their ugly faces in on you."

Harry paused suddenly when the snake woke up from his nap and raised its head before meeting Harry's gaze. And then the most incredible, extraordinary thing happened; it winked. Directly at him!

His eyes widened in shock, his mouth gaping slightly at the snake. He looked around if anyone else had seen the snake wink. Thankfully, it was just him.

Harry had finally gathered enough courage to speak in a hushed whisper hoping not to attract unwanted attention by making people think he was mad. "C-Can you hear me?" he stuttered slightly. The snake contested by nodding affirmatively. The response alone threw him for a loop. This was maddening! How could an animal, a snake of all things, understand the human language?

Harry stared wide-eyed at the snake, not moving from his position, the snake merely tilted its head in confusion, wondering why this young human is acting strangely. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity until the boy finally spoke after coming to his senses and realized he wasn't hallucinating.

"Do you…" Harry hesitated. "…talk to people often?"

The snake slowly shook its head, drooping down slightly to convey sadness. Harry decided to change the subject so as not to be rude.

"So you're from Brazil? I heard it's nice there. Do you miss your family?" he asked.

The snake gestured its head to Harry's right-hand side, and the boy peered at to what he was pointing to. It was a sign next to the glass that read, 'Bred in captivity'.

Harry gave a weary sigh and turned his attention back to the snake. "I see." he paused, sadness clear in his voice. "That's me as well…I never knew my parents either."

Indeed, for whatever reason, Harry knew nothing regarding his parents. Who were they? What did they do in their lives before he came along? And most importantly, why did they leave him with these insufferable relatives. A few years ago, he asked his aunt regarding their whereabouts, only for her to callously tell him that they died in a drunk-driving accident. It took him a week before he learned what that meant. When he did, he cried and cried to himself for hours inside his cupboard until he ran out of tears. That was the day he learned that no one was coming for him, and that the only one he could rely on was himself.

So from that moment forward, whatever free time he had was spent bettering himself and satisfying his drive for knowledge by thoroughly reading his schoolbooks from cover-to-cover. By doing so he managed to get top marks in his assignments. Even when his teachers suspected him of cheating and tested his knowledge without any reference material, he would always leave them stunned at how quick he responded and explaining his in-depth analysis on the topic. In the end his hard work paid off as he managed to get an offer from Stonewall High based on the recommendation letter from the headmaster of his primary school due to his performance in his studies.

The thought of being away from the Dursleys would fill him an immense pleasurable feeling he had in his chest. This was as close as to being 'happy' as he could ever hope to be.

His bonding time with the snake was cut short when Dudley came rushing back to the snake's habitat. "Mummy, Dad, come here! You won't believe what the snake is doing!" he shouted, while rudely shoving Harry causing him to fall to the ground.

The boy nearly had his glasses knocked over and his back wounds flare up again, causing him to hiss with pain. He glared up at his portly cousin who was too busy admiring the snake, and felt his irritation focus on Dudley. What happened next was too quick for anyone to see; the glass suddenly vanished right before Harry's eyes. Dudley, who was leaning forward, let out a surprised yelp before falling into the small basin of water big enough for the average person to fit in, resulting in a large splash.

The snake, seeing this as an opportunity to escape his glass prison, slithered out of his habitat. Once he was completely out, he turned to Harry who looked back at it and gave an appreciative nod in his direction.

"Brazil here I come. Thankssss, amigo." the snake gave a low hiss.

Harry, who was still trying to comprehend what just happened, could only utter a small "You're welcome."

As he watched the snake slink swiftly past him, he couldn't help but let out a small smile of amusement as people began panicking and running around yelling that a dangerous snake had gotten loose.

Then he heard Petunia shriek like a banshee and Dudley crying pathetically when he noticed the glass had returned in its place making his spoiled cousin look like a sniveling animal in a cage. This made Harry's smile widen. He once read about something called karmic retribution, and sincerely hoped that this was the case.

But his smile faded and was replaced with a look of fear when Vernon hoisted him up by the scruff of his shirt, though he clearly wanted to get a clear shot at his neck, and his eyes met the furious, beady ones of his uncle which promised nothing but pain.

In the midst of all the chaos at the zoo, the staff managed to quell the disturbance, even though they failed to find the snake. After Vernon threatened to take this matter to the courts, the manager profusely apologized and gave the family lifetime passes with complimentary refreshments. After which the Dursleys drove back home. Once they had arrived, Petunia rushed her shivering son inside to get him out of his wet clothes. Vernon on the other hand pulled Harry inside by his arm, threatening to tear it from its socket.

Once inside the house, Vernon let go of his nephew's arm and opted to grab a handful of his shaggy hair and practically dragged him into his study before tossing him like a ragdoll onto the carpeted floor.

Harry made to stand, but his Uncle wasn't having that. Instead, he pressed his fat foot upon his nephew's back, eliciting a cry of pain. He then loosened his belt which given his less than healthy physique, was solely there for decoration.

"What did you do, boy?" Vernon spoke in a harsh whisper. His face growing purple with rage as he kept a tight grip on the belt in his meaty hands.

Despite the pain, Harry gave his best answer. "I…didn't do anything," he grunted. "It wasn't my fault. One minute the glass was there and the next minute it vanished. It was like magic."

That was not the answer Vernon was looking for as Harry soon felt a strike upon his back. And then another. And another. And so on. The beating lasted for at least half an hour before he finally stopped completely. Harry was left on the ground panting in short breaths. His limbs twitching. He could hear his uncle breathing heavily through his nose. Vernon looked down on his nephew's now bruised and bleeding back, getting a grim satisfaction in his work. After administering the punishment, Vernon grabbed Harry by his arm and forced him to stand, albeit shakily. The mustached walrus dragged Harry over to his cupboard, opened it and threw him harshly inside.

Vernon looked at Harry with disdain. "There's no such thing as magic!" He whispered venomously before closing and locking the cupboard door from the outside.

A month had passed before he could freely step out of his prison and walk without feeling too much pain. Granted, the boy had to sneak in a few healing ointments to dress his wounds so he could heal properly and small portions of food that he was sure that wouldn't be missed.

That morning, the mail came in and Harry examined each one.

'Bill, bill, advertisement, bill, b-' He stopped when he read a letter… that was addressed to him.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harry was stunned speechless. A letter detailing his exact location in the house had been delivered to him. Flipping the letter over, Harry saw a strange emblem on the back. This had to be a joke, but he knew that it couldn't be his relatives who wrote this. They were not clever enough nor would they put down the time and effort in such an elaborate, sadistic gag just to torment him. In addition to that, each of their respective handwritings did not even come close to the level of neatness and professionalism that this letter had.

What he failed to realize, was that this letter would forever mark his destiny for they had come for him.

Here's the first chapter!

No flames please.