Harry Potter was a very unusual child. He was only six years old, yet he was pitied by most of the Little Whinging. His aunt, Petunia Dursley, had told anyone who would listen that the boy's father was an unemployed drunkard, and his mother was a good for nothing whore who had both died in a car crash. She had also told everyone that the boy was mad. Of course, the too-large, hand-me-down rags he was wearing did nothing to dissuade anyone of that opinion.

However, Petunia herself, her gigantic husband Vernon, and their son Dudley, were the epitome of a perfect family. All of Surrey thought that they were a perfect family, if not a little pompous and uptight. However, no one could have guessed that the Duresleys actually abused him. They insulted him, his parents, starved him and beat him. He lived in the cupboard under the stairs, on a few blankets.

And not because he was very poorly behaved, or greedy, or obnoxious. But because he was a wizard, and represented everything they hated. To the Dursleys, being a wizard was a horrible condition, and just not normal. So they attempted to literally beat it out of him, all the magic, or as they termed it, "freakishness". All of this abuse led to Harry thinking he was a freak, which was what they called him, that or boy. And strange things happened around him too. Like one time "he" accidentally turned his teacher's hair blue. He didn't know how it had happened, but the next thing that he remembered Uncle Vernon was beating him furiously, shouting and screaming at him. Another time, Aunt Petunia had gotten so fed up with his unruly hair, that she had cut it all off apart from a fringe to cover his horrible scar. He had been so terrified to return to school the next day, but when he had woken up from his sleep, it had all grown back. That had prompted another beating from his uncle the next morning, and he had shown up to school in pain.

School was no better for young Harry. Although he was quite smart, definitely above average, he was not allowed to act like it due to his relatives beating him if he showed up with better comments from his teachers than their precious Diddykins. He couldn't make any friends because Dudley and his gang would chase them away and then indulge in bullying Harry. Harry's only safe haven was the library. Dudley had no desire to enter the library, and Harry could read in peace here.

These sad events led up to the worst day of Harry's young life, around three months before his birthday. It was lunchtime at school, Dudley and his gang were chasing him again. And then, inexplicably, he had ended up on the roof. He had no clue how he had ended up there, all he remembered was thinking "I need to get away from Dudley" and he had found himself sitting on the roof. The school principal called his uncle, and he had been suspended and sent home with his uncle.

Uncle Vernon was furious. His face had turned completely red and was literally steaming. He knew exactly what had happened.

"BOYYYY! HOW DARE YOU USE YOUR FREAKISHNESS AT SCHOOL! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE WE TOLD YOUR UNGRATEFUL ARSE THAT YOU ARE NOT TO USE THAT BLOODY FREAKISHNESS ANYWHERE."

"After we take you in and provide you with a home, this is how you repay us?"

He took out his belt and whipped the little boy's back with as much force available to him. Harry screamed and tears fell from his eyes but his uncle was relentless. Getting bored of the whipping, he dropped the belt, and started punching the boy's stomach repeatedly. With this, Harry had almost succumbed to unconsciousness.

For a second, Vernon actually felt regret. Had he gone too far? "No, the boy deserved it. Maybe he will finally stop using his freakishness." He shoved Harry's unresponding body into the cupboard and let him lie there until he woke up the next morning, there would be no food for him today.

Meanwhile, in the cupboard, Harry hadn't succumbed to unconsciousness yet, but he was crying silently, knowing that bawling like his cousin did at least five times a day would result in another beating instead. Quietly, he prayed.

"Please. If there's anyone out there who can help me, please. They're going to kill me soon. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but please. I need help. If there's anyone that can help me, I'm begging you to take me from here. Anyone, literally anyone, take me out of this horrible place."

And the last thing Harry saw before he fell into a state of unconsciousness was a pair of large, tennis-ball shaped eyes and pointy ears, and he heard a soft pop as the world blacked out.