AN: I do not intent to only increase Harry's capabilities, and I will ensure things eventually balance out evenly.

Please review, and tell me what you (dis)liked and what I can improve.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging

Harry lay huddled up in the cupboard under the stairs, softly crying. He felt absolutely miserable. There was nothing in his life worth living. The only thing approximating anything near his liking was attending lessons in school. And depending on the teacher, it was the only time he could relax for a moment, not worrying about whether he was about to be teased, beat up, or worse, being humiliated by Dudley and his companions.

Unfortunately, not all teachers stood up against bullying and therefore some lessons were still an absolute horrible experience. Break times, which all children look forward to, were Harry's anguish. Harry had no friends. Most of the children and teachers thought he was a simpleton, as he intentionally fluked all of his test as not to incite Dudley, as receiving a better score would lead to a beating. So he would spend his time on the school yard alone, trying not to be noticed. Sometimes this worked, but most of the time he would be actively sought out by Dudley and his friends to receive a pounding as part of their sick games. Most children feared Dudley and his entourage, and therefore participated in his crusade to torment Harry, pushing and berating him, calling him a freak and the sorts. Each break Harry would ask teachers if he was allowed to visit the school's library, but he would be often denied with arguments such as "Children must play", or "There more to the world then just books Harry". But when he was allowed, he could finally escape his reality. Those were the times Harry would feel something in the resemblance of happiness. Unfortunately times of happiness often pass quickly, and therefore he had not a lot of time to read books. For this reason he stole books from the school's library, and bring them back to his cupboard, to be read after dinner, when the Dursleys were watching TV and eating snacks.

Harry was filled with a lot of hate. He hated his Aunt and Uncle, and especially that plumpish nephew of his, Dudley. But most of all he hated himself. For not being able to stand up for himself. With his feeble nine-year-old body Harry was almost a head shorter that Dudley, and nowhere near able to match Dudley brute force. Let alone, he was too afraid to resist or argue anything he was told to do or disliked, in fear of Petunia's and in particular Vernon's wrath. They would always choose Dudley's side, regardless of it being unreasonable or downright inhumane. Vernon would often beat Harry, especially after strange events happened, which would be attributed to Harry the Freak. One time Pentunia found out Harry had stolen books from the school's library. She had taken Harry back to school to be reprimanded. She would likely hope Harry would be sent to prison so they were lifted from their burden of feeding him. However, when Pentunia tried to show the books to the school's librarian, telling Harry had stolen them, the books had disappeared from the bag to their corresponding shelves. Embarrassed and struck with horror they had quickly left.

"Oh, you're in for a beating, freak boy!" Pentunia had said menacingly. And Harry knew this to be true. That night Harry had gotten a beating from Vernon, that had left him bruised for weeks.

Harry sniffed softly to prevent the Dursley from hearing him cry. With every movement he made his body was in pain, so he tried to lay as still as possible. And even through the pain he could feel his hungry belly rumbling. This was a particular horrible evening. Vernon had viciously beaten him, after he heard of Today's school events. During the school's break Dudley had tried to pull down Harry's pants and boxer short, as he often had done before. This was not in particular very hard, as Harry would only receive Dudley's old cloths. Dudley being almost twice the size as Harry, these cloths were to say at least rather big. However, this time, instead of Harry's naked lower body to be displayed to the entire school, Dudley's entire attire was magically ripped apart and left torn on Dudley's ankles. His fat belly, bare white bottom, and private parts left bare, for all the school to awe. More comically, as Dudley's ripped clothes were intertwined with his ankles, as he tried to run inside the school, he repeatedly fell down, scrambling in panic. But, fat as he was, and struck with panic and shame, his performance was somewhat worthy of an Oscar. The whole yard had broken out laughing, including the teachers. Even Harry had laughed. But Harry knew these moments were short lived. Pain struck and hungry he could not muster the strength to open one of the stolen books he had hidden away. Harry tried to cry himself to sleep, feeling sorry for himself, but was unable to do so.

Eventually the Dursley went to bed and things quieted down. Harry had stopped crying, the stillness calming him down somewhat. Hungry as he was, Harry snuck out from his cupboard and went straight for the garbage can as he would often do. This night he was luckier than most, Vernon and Dudley were morbidly obese for a reason, as he found some leftovers from dinner that he started to quietly devour. His strength and state of mind somewhat improving. Harry went to the living room and stood beside the window, staring into the darkness. Out of nothing he shook awake from his trans-like state. A white owl landed on the garden fence, just a few yards away from Harry. Truly this bird was beautiful and majestic, its white feathers almost glowing in the sharp contrast of the dark night. The owl was facing away from Harry, appearing to be, just as Harry had, gazing into the night. Then the owl started to slowly turn its head around, a full hundred and eighty degrees to Harry's amazement, gazing directly into Harry's eyes. A breath of warmth fell over Harry, as he somehow felt a deep connection with this bird. Harry didn't dare to blink as their eyes were locked, staring into each other's minds, time passing what felt like almost like an eternity to Harry. Did the owl try to say something to Harry? But what? Suddenly, the owl hooted three times, spread it wings, and as sudden as the owl had arrived, it flew away. 'No!' Harry gasped quietly as not to disturb the Dursley's slumber, feeling as if he had just said goodbye to a long-lived friend. Did this really happen, or did Harry just imaged all of it?

For a long time, Harry glared at the spot where the owl had sat, deep in thought, when he was struck by a moment of clarity. His life could not be more miserable as it currently was, so there was not anything for him to lose. His time at the Dursley's was spent in fear, pain, and malnourishment. At school he was severely bullied, and he had no friends. The only happy moments he experienced was when he escaped his reality either by reading books, or be deep in thought, fantasising and playing scenario's in his head where he would not be so pitiful and cowardly. So, if there is nothing to lose, there is everything to gain, Harry thought. And this thought filled him with courage, a feeling he had not experienced for a very long time. Harry knew what to do. He would run away from the Dursleys, never to be returning again. He had tried to run away twice before, but fear had brought him back to the Dursley's. The first time he had returned after two days, starved and with his tail between his legs, pleading to be forgiven and let back in. The second time he had ran away, he had travelled to London by bus and metro. But as Harry had no place to stay, he had wandered the streets by night. Eventually he was halted by a woman, who informed to police after he could not explain why he was alone in the streets by night. Impressed by authority, and out of fear, Harry had told them he had run away. The police returned Harry to the Dursley's, Petunia and Vernon playing their part, grateful for their nephew's return, to be receiving a whipping from Vernon's belt afterwards of course. But this time, filled with a burning determination, would play out differently, Harry knew.

But first things first, Harry thought, if I am not to return, let's feast like the gods. Harry raced to the fridge, and meticulously plundered it. He ate, and ate, as much as he could, filling his belly twice over. But as the Dursley's were prone to eat a lot, even though Harry felt like he had eaten the lion's share, there was left aplenty. Nonetheless, he left a giant mess of dirty plates, half eaten foods, and crumbles on the kitchen counter, table, and floor. Oh, the Dursley's would kill me if they find this in the morning, weren't that I won't be around to see it, Harry thought, almost willing to stay just to see the outrage and horror on their faces. Next, Harry grabbed Dudley's school bag and filled it with his 'belongings', that was, some second-hand too big cloths and a book he was currently reading. What more, Harry thought calmly, I need money. So he opened the cabinet's drawer next to Vernon's lounge chair where he kept his wallet. Harry glanced inside, amazed by the amount of money, at least a hundred pounds. Harry put the money together with Vernon's silver watch, that was too big to put around his wrist, in his pocket. For just a moment Harry thought about setting the house ablaze, or doing something of equal malignancy, but refrained from doing so, as the police may come looking for him and return him to the Dursleys if found. Well, that's about it, Harry thought, three times is a charm after all, as he closed the door behind, and walked toward the bus stop with a steadfast pace, leaving behind Privit Drive number 4.

About half an hour later, Harry sat waiting, for the next bus to arrive. As it was already past midnight, he would still have to wait around five hours. Idiot! I should have known this, and stayed at the Dursleys for a few more hours in the warmth Harry thought. Although Harry had put on extra cloths, the cold icy breeze of January, and the little protection the bus stop offered, was starting to make him chilly. His earlier determination had dwindled and, sitting there all by himself, knees hurled against his chest, slowly rocking to and fro to keep of the cold, Harry felt unloved, alone, and lost. Were it not for his earlier hours of crying would he start weeping again, but his tears fell short, there were simply none left. Resting his head on his knees, Harry closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, hoping for his misery to end, and the bus to arrive soon.

With a jolt Harry awoke, he must have fallen asleep as his body felt stiff from the cold.

"Hey boy, wake up!" a loud grumpy voice yelled.

Harry, still a bit drowsy, rubbed his eyes and tried to focus them. Was he really seeing this? Before him stood a large purple bus, and as being purple was not strange enough, it also had three floors instead of the regular two. Aghast and with mouth open, Harry fell still.

"Hey boy, why did you call the Knight bus if you do not intent to go on?" the man said with a sharp condescending tone.

What an odd character, Harry thought. The bus driver had white hair, standing up from both sides but bald in the middle, thick glasses that made his eyes look comically big, and was dressed in a gruff brown suite.

"Called the bus?" Harry mumbled softly, more to himself then to the bus driver.

"Yes, this is the Knight bus boy, you call, we come, simple as that. But if you don wanna gettin', we are off to our next stop. Don't call us again!" the bus driver said, now even more annoyed then before.

"Wait!" Harry squeaked. "I do want to take the bus!"

He was somehow more afraid to stay then to get on this purple monstrosity.

"Ok then, better be quick! You can pay Stan inside." the bus driver responded swiftly.

Harry quickly grabbed his bag, and still somewhat hesitantly, boarded the bus. The inside of the bus was even stranger then the outside. It was filled with beds instead of regular benches, burning candles lit the inside, and the windows had curtains. Whilst Harry was observing the interior a thin man with a pockmarked face, who Harry assumed to be Stan, spoke to him:

"That's eleven sickles for a ride."

"Eleven what..?" Harry stuttered.

"Eleven sickles for ride! You know, silver sickles! Don't tell me you ain't got none, or I'll throw you out!" Stan said impatiently.

"I... I only have pounds." Harry responded timidly, annoyed at how frail his voice sounded.

"We don't accept Muggle money, silver sickles or you walk!" Stan replied, obviously irritated by the amount of time it took.

Muggle money? What's that? Harry thought. He had never heard of sickles, and he felt awkward about the whole situation. His mind wandered as he thought how long it would take to sprint towards the exit before this man would get suspicious of a child trying to board a bus in the middle of the night alone. Or worse, call the police on him, who would eventually return him to the Dursleys.

"I don't have any sickles, but I can offer you this silver watch." Harry responded, surprised by the confidence in his own voice, as he showed the watch to Stan. Thinking about the Dursleys reminding him of the silver watch he had stolen.

Stan snatched the watch from Harry's hand and inspected it thoroughly.

"This will do just finely." Stan said with a content smile on his face.

Harry let out a sigh of relieve, thankful to be no longer in the spotlight. Yet, somehow Harry didn't feel he got the better end of the deal. However, he was glad that he could finally leave Little Whinging and the Dursleys behind. But still, a silver watch for a bus ride? And now that he thought about it, he never told Stan where he would like to go. But before he could rethink the whole situation Stan shouted:

"We're about to leave, better hold on!"

Harry was not prepared for what came next. The bus accelerated with such tremendous force that Harry fell to the ground and slid on the floor until his head bumped against the back of the bus.

"Auw" Harry squeaked and rubbed his forehead trying to relieve the pain.

As he tried to stand up, he was thrown about by a sharp unexpected turn, smashing his ribs against a pole.

"Oef" Harry moaned.

This whole process repeated itself several times until Harry's earlier feast decided it was time to say hello to the world.

"First time with the Knight bus?" Stan asked Harry with a dull voice, obviously rhetorically.

Harry didn't respond as he tried to keep hold on and concentrate on not throwing up. Eventually Harry somehow got the hang of it, and was finally able to stand up and not feel the urge to vomit. The world outside flashed by in a cacophony of sounds and lights. The bus never seemed to slow down or stop for traffic lights, but swirled and avoided traffic and pedestrians in unnatural and abrupt movements. Concentrating on his breath, the flashing world outside, and holding on for dear life, Harry lost track of time, until the bus abruptly came to a complete standstill, throwing Harry to the ground again.

"Next stop, Leaky Cauldron," Stan broadcasted in a monotonous voice, like as if he had said it a million times before. "please take your private belonging when you leave the bus."

"I want to get off!" Harry screamed in panic, not wanting to stay in the bus for a second longer then required, his effort almost making him vomit again. He grabbed his bag and jumped out the bus as fast as he could. Stan laughing through the whole ordeal.

Panting on the side of the curb, Harry tried to regain his posture. An oddly looking man, dressed in black tattered robes and wearing a bright red scar, also got off the bus. His face pale and defeated, but still obviously disconcerted by the method of travel. He took a deep breath and exhaled slow and loud. With a brassy bang the purple monstrosity accelerated swiftly and seemingly disappeared into nothingness.

"Don't worry kid, you will get the hang of it," said the man with a warm voice, as he stared at Harry in pity. "are you going to Diagon Alley?"

"Y-Yes sir." Harry responded timidly, afraid to argue or raise any suspicion, even though he hadn't the slightest idea what Diagon Alley was.

"Well come on then, I'll walk you there." said the man.

As they proceeded to walk, Harry remained silent, still somewhat in shock. The Sun was already rising, its rays illuminating the abandoned streets in a golden glow. The warmth and serenity calming Harry down a little. They entered a pub named the Leaky Cauldron through a thick oaken door, and Harry followed the man until they stood before a brick wall. Early as it was the pub was empty. With its old-fashioned chairs and tables, musky scent, and oil paintings hanging on almost every free spot on the wall, it gave Harry a feeling they had travelled back in time. In the corner of his eyes he thought he saw one of the figures in the painting move, or did he just imagined that?

"Aren't you a bit young to be travelling alone?" the odd man asked Harry.

"Uuhm..," Harry responded slowly, startled by the question, "Uuhm.. I'm supposed to meet my parents in Diagon Alley in half an hour" Harry said with a wobbly voice, surprised by his hasty improvisation.

"Very well then, just don't be wandering around Knockturn Alley, there is all sorts of dark folks about." the odd man told Harry.

'Yes sir' Harry said.

The man opened his robe, pulled out a wooden stick and tapped against some of the brick stones in the wall in a seemingly random pattern. The wall began to move, and with a grinding sound the brick stones folded into themselves on both sides, revealing an opening towards a cobblestone road. Both sides of the road were lined with old medieval looking houses, painted in oddly bright colours. None of the houses were standing straight, but appeared to be almost leaning over the cobblestone road, making it feel like the houses could collapse at any moment. Early as it was, few people walked in the streets, but the ones there were just as oddly dressed as the man, wearing coloured robes as some even strange pointy hats.

Hesitantly Harry followed the man through the brick wall opening as it closed behind them with gnashing and grinding sounds.

"Do you know where to meet your parents?" the man asked Harry.

"Yes, I know where to go." Harry said, trying to sound confident

The man looked at Harry for a moment, as thinking whether he should further accompany this child, but decided not to do so. The man kindly said goodbye and walked away leaving Harry behind confounded.

What just happened? The purple bus ride, the moving paintings, the brick wall. It all seemed so unreal, yet Harry knew he did not imagined it. It all seemed so magical. Did this meant magic was real? Magic?! Magic was real! All his life he was called a freak with all the odd things that had happened, but now he knew why. He was not a freak, he could perform magic! Harry smiled in wonder, for the first time feeling some self-worth.

As the streets begin to fill with more and more folk, Harry explored Diagon Alley. He went from shop to shop looking through the windows. Harry didn't go inside as he still tried to avoid conversations as much as possible. He was only bothered a few times, but could easily convince them his parents were at another store and he was allowed to walk around Diagon Alley. As noon came about Harry got hungry, but he knew he could not pay with his regular money. However, he found out that his Muggle money could be converted to Wizarding currency at a bank called Gringotts. Intimidated by the brusque goblins behind the tellers, he still succeeded in converting his stolen pounds to receive 11 galleons, 3 sickles and 11 knuts.

When Harry saw other kids entering a store he finally got the courage to enter, and he bought all types of strange candies, chocolate frogs being his most favourite, as they came with collectible cards of famous wizards and witches. With his newfound courage Harry entered a book store and started peering through countless of books, trying to learn anything there was about magic. Hours passed and Harry was none the wiser, yet his curiosity only grew with every book he opened.

As noon became evening the stores closed and Harry went to get a hot meal which he ate on one of the benches. As Harry was peering through his chocolate frog cards, the Sun set and Diagon Alley became shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by a few dim streetlamps. The once crowded street were almost entirely empty with only few people walking about. Harry was reading and inspecting Albus Dumbledore's card when a short plump woman with red hair, dressed in scruffy looking brown thick robe, sat next to Harry.

"What are you doing here alone by yourself? Shouldn't you be at home?" the woman asked kindly.

"My parents are at Gringotts and I am waiting here for their return." Harry responded, hoping she would bugger off.

"But Gringotts is already closed for several hours. Where are your parents? What's your name? Are you lost?" the woman asked with concern in her voice.

"My parents told me to wait here!" Harry almost shouted, alarmed by the barrage of questions.

"Calm down, you are obviously confused, come, I'll bring you to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so that we can bring you back to your parents" the woman said with determination.

"No!" harry screamed. "No police, they will bring me back to the Dursleys!"

Harry grabbed his bag, got up and started running.

"Wait child, don't run away! You shouldn't be alone here in the dark!" the woman yelled.

As Harry ran the woman tried to follow him, but as she was a bit on the plump side, he was much faster.

I must lose her! Harry thought. Otherwise I will be brought back to the Dursleys. Harry sprinted as fast as he could and took every turn possible, running through the small alleys connected to Diagon Alley. After a few minutes of running he sat down against the wall of particular dark alley, gasping for air, but convinced he had lost the woman. Looking around the eerie dark alley Harry felt a cold chill running up his spine. He suddenly felt very scared.

"You shouldn't be wandering around here, these alleys are dangerous." a cold voice whispered.

Harry jumped up and wanted to run away but a strong hand grabbed him by his arm.

"Look at me." the cold voice whispered again.

Harry slowly looked up and saw a pale man with long black hair dressed in fine silk black robes. As Harry looked into his deep black eyes he felt dazed and numb, like he was no longer connected to his body directly. Harry tried to look away but could not.

"Follow me" the man whispered.

And Harry did what he was told. He followed the man through the dark alley and they went inside a small building with a wooden signpost that said 'Enthralling Trinkets and Ancient Artefacts'. The inside was dimly lit and thick red curtains hang before the windows. The interior was filled with storage cabinets with all sorts or paraphernalia. In the corner a fireplace was burning, which was accompanied by a table and three luxurious red chairs.

"Sit down and give me your arm." the man commanded. Still entranced, Harry obeyed as he sat down in the chair and stretched out his arm.

The man grabbed Harry's wrist, put it against his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Oh, I will very much enjoy this, you have strong blood child" the man said with pleasure in his voice. He opened his mouth and two sharp fangs bit down in Harry's wrist. Slurping and sucking like a new-born baby on a mother's tit the man drank Harry's blood. As he screamed and shivered in pleasure, his eyes moved upward so that only the white of his eyes remained visible. When the man stopped drinking he let out a sigh of intense relieve, sat down in the chair, his body slow and relaxed, and stared at the ceiling as if he was in another world.

Meanwhile Harry was still in trance. He was not scared, nor did he feel pain. He was aware that this man was drinking his blood, but he could not be bothered with it. When the man was finished he tried to stand up, but his legs were tired, and he fell down and passed out.