This is from the POV of Vince Crabbe. A ------ line will divide parts. Parts transfer days or years, I will specify in the first sentence usually. I don't own any HP characters. JK owns them, but I own Chris and his jerky self. - Enjoy.

Have you ever had that feeling that everyone in the world hates you and just really doesn't want you around? I have.

/flashback/

A small six year old Vince sits on the couch in the front room of his house. His father slowly walks by and Vince quickly stands up, "Daddy can we go out in the backyard and play a game or something?"

His father turned at him and shook his head, "No Vincent. I don't have time for your silly little games. I have much more important things to do right now then spend time with you. Besides, didn't we play a game yesterday or something?"

Vince slowly shook his head, "Daddy... we've never played any games."

His father looked back over at him, "Well, I'm sorry. Get used to it though. Your mother and I don't have time for such things as games. You just have no idea how busy we are do you? Why do you always have to be such a burden?"

Vince sighed a little and pulled himself back onto the couch. "I'm sorry daddy... I just..."

His father again cut him off, "I don't want excuses Vincent. Just do as I say and stop bothering me for once. No actually, just stop bothering me all together. Don't you have to go to school or something now? Isn't that what good little boys do? Don't good little boys not bother their parents with 'playing games'?"

Vince looked at the ground, "Yes daddy. I'm sorry but, it's Saturday. There's no school today."

"Well, just go find something to do." His father looked at his watch, "Oh great! You made me late with all of you little questions! Now I'm going to get in trouble. Just go to your room and do something before you get in trouble."

With that his father walked out the door mumbling things to himself. Vince sighed a little and jumped off the couch and walked slowly up the stairs and into his room where he sat down on his bed. He reached over to his nightstand and pulled off a little red car and pushed it back and forth on his bed and he laid there watching it. A small smile came across his face. The same small smile also covered up the pain he was feeling inside.

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Early one September morning a young Vince woke up and jumped out of his bed. He walked over by his dresser and pulled off a small set of clothes his mother had put out for him the previous night. He changed quickly and opened his door. He smiled a little to himself. It was his first day of first grade and he felt pretty good about himself. He was extremely excited. Slowly, he walked down the squeaky stairs and past the front room into the kitchen expecting at least one of his parents in there to meet him. He looked around a little and sighed. They weren't there, what was he thinking. He looked up on the counter and pulled down a box of cereal that was sitting there and looked around. Up on the table there was a small bowl that he pulled down to the ground. He walked over to the fridge and pulled it open and looked up. The gallon of milk was on the top shelf and he couldn't reach it. He looked around and saw a small carton of milk he'd brought home the other day and pulled it out. Slowly he walked back over by the bowl and box and opened the box. He started to pour some cereal into the bowl and opened it a bit too much and it went all over the floor. He sighed a little and shrugged and opened the carton of milk and poured it in. Looking around he spotted a spoon on the table. Walking over to the table he reached up and grabbed it off and sat down on the floor and ate his cereal in his dead silent house. A while later he finished and put the empty bowl up on the counter and pulled down a small brown bag that was supposed to have his lunch in it. He looked at the bag and there was a small note attached. It read, "Vincent, I'm very sorry dear but I didn't have time to make your lunch. You'll just have to make it yourself. Make sure you're walking by 8:30 though, you don't want to be late. -Mum." Vince looked up at the clock. It was already 8:35, he didn't have time to make a lunch for himself. He sighed a little and walked to the front room and opened the closet pulling out a small coat and zipping it up. Slowly he opened the door and a small gust of wind blew and several rain drops hit the ground. It was raining and he had to walk to school all by himself. He let out a small sigh and walked outside heading off to school with a small smile. He wasn't going to let this get him down quite yet. He told himself everything would be better tomorrow, show no pain now. Everything would hopefully get better. Hopefully.

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Late on the night of October 31st a six year old Vince laid silently on his bed. Out of nowhere he suddenly jumped up in his bed and took a few deep breaths trying to get himself out of his cold sweat. He smiled a little to himself, "Oh man. Okay, it was just a bad dream…" Just then there was a booming knock at the door. Vince swallowed hard as the door slowly creaked open. His father staggered into Vince's room, bottle of fire whiskey in hand and looked over at Vince. Vince bit his lip a little, his father came home all off balance and stuff again. This happened a lot, but he never really said much about it. Those times were the worst for Vince to see his father. Honestly, it was definitely the time that he was most afraid of his father. Slowly his father stumbled across the room towards Vince and dropped his bottle of fire whiskey. As the bottle hit the ground it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and the whiskey went everywhere. Vince moved back a little until he was up against his head board. His father finally reached the side of his bed and grabbed his arm pulling Vince quickly out of bed.

"You're worthless, did you know that Vincent? No one really cares about you. It's all just an act, no one will ever care about you. You'll always just live a horrible life with no point and make everyone around you completely miserable as well." Vince's father threw him against the wall. After this Vince looked up at his father and choked back a few tears. Quickly, he stood back up and looked away from his father who sneered at him a little, "I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you."

Vince shook his head a little, "I know that this isn't how my daddy acts. He can't be like this, I know he can't."

Vince's father grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, "Well, take a good look boy. This is how it's going to be for a long, long time."

Vince glanced into his father's eyes and then down at the ground. He just couldn't take this all in. It just wasn't possible. Quickly Vince pulled away from his father's grasp and pulled open one door to leave his room and ran down the stairs still choking back tears. He opened the front door of his house and ran outside down the street. He was just so confused. Why did his daddy hate him so much? Why did he always yell at him? It just didn't make any sense to him. After a few minutes of running he slowed down at a park on his street. The same park that he always saw families playing together at. The one place he hated the most. He walked over to the seesaw and sat down on one side. He'd never gone up on the seesaw before and he really wanted to. Suddenly there was a small voice behind him.

"What are you doing here? No one comes here but me. No one." Vince turned around. There was a small boy, just a bit taller then himself with short, wavy brown hair on the swings. "Well, are you just going to sit there or are you going to say something?"

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It was simply horrible. Everyday Vince went to school and everyday he felt like his life was getting worse. He was now 8 years old and in the third grade. Vince's parents were on vacation somewhere incredible and they told him before they left they really just didn't want him to come. They thought he would ruin everything and they really just did not want to take him. In a way he was kind of happy his parents left. He honestly knew now that they really did hate him, everyone did.

He sighed a little to himself and hung his coat up on the hook and walked over to his desk in the back corner of his classroom. It was his half way through his year of third grade and he wasn't really excited about school anymore. He really just couldn't do anything special anymore. He had completely lost his desire to try to do good ever since second grade when his parent's told him that honestly they didn't really care about him. He had already been through a lot with his parents and right about then his hope was gone.

Slowly he sat down in his desk and sighed a little laying his backpack on the desk. No one in his class liked him either. Except his teacher, but, she had to like him. If she didn't have to she probably wouldn't. No one ever wanted to sit by him so he just kind of moved by himself. Slowly, Vince's mind drifted deeply into the thought of his childhood when the bell loudly rang and students scurried to their seats. Their teacher walked into the room with a boy a little taller than Vince with short, wavy brown hair. Vince looked up and tilted his head slightly. Where had he seen this kid before? He looked so farmiliar.

Then it hit him. This was the kid that he met up with at the park one night over two years ago. Vince sat awestruck for a minute, he never expected to see him again. His teacher broke his thoughts as she finally spoke. "Alright everyone. Please warmly welcome your new classmate, Gregory Goyle."

Everyone looked up at him. Some boys in the middle of the class smiled. Goyle had some muscle on him for an eight year old and everyone wanted a 'tough' friend. One of the boys, Chris, nodded to him to tell him to go sit by them. Goyle looked around the classroom and stopped looking when he saw Vince. He turned back and asked the teacher something and she hesitated to answer. Vince could tell that he asked to come sit by him and he also knew she really didn't want Greg to sit by Vince. However, she nodded and Greg walked over by Vince and sat down in the seat next to Vince and smiled a little. Vince smiled back and looked over at Chris who shook his head and looked away. The teacher's phone started ringing and she walked over to pick it up and slowly everyone got into conversations.

Vince looked over at Goyle, "Don't I know you?"

Greg smiled a little and nodded, "Yeah from the park that one night like two years ago."

Vince nodded, "I thought it was you... you were kind of mean then though."

Greg nodded slowly, "Yeah sorry, my parents were just always fighting and stuff, I just kind of started to take it out on you because I was really mad."

Vince shrugged a little, "That's okay. My parents really hate me still, but then again so does everyone else. Do your parents still fight?"

"Yeah, all the time. I could just walk out and they wouldn't notice anymore."

Vince knew exactly what he meant and how he felt. He opened his mouth to say something but their teacher returned to the front of the class and began their lesson. He shrugged a little, it would just have to wait. Maybe everything would start to be okay Vince thought to himself.

However, he was dead wrong. One day both Vince and Greg would get sick of the bullying and decide to turn the tables. Not only from their school life, but from their home life just the same.

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Chris pushed Vince to the ground and laughed, "Man. You're still a loser after one year. I thought you would've grown up at least a little in one year."

It was the first day of fourth grade and everything was the same as it had always been. Vince looked up at him and winced a little. Nothing at all had changed since last year, but it was even worse that Chris was in his class another year. Year after year Chris bullied Vince. Now, Vince was finally nine and getting really sick of Chris and all of his crap.

Vince stood up as a voice came from behind him, "Uh… you have a problem with Vince, Chris?" Chris and Vince both looked to the origin of the voice. There was Greg looking questioningly at Chris.

Chris shook his head, "Nah. Just welcoming him back to uh… school?"

Vince looked at Greg and then back at Chris, "You liar, you were doing the same thing you always do. You're such a jerk." Vince pulled his fist back a bit and punched Chris square in the stomach. Chris fell to his knees and looked up at Vince who couldn't have had a more serious face.

"Come on man, we were just messing with you." Chris said as he quickly tried to make up an excuse.

Vince glared at him, "For the past four years. I don't think so. I'm sick of you and your little group of friends pushing me around. From now on you don't push me and you don't push Greg. If you do, you'll be sorry." He shook his head and walked over by the playground.

Greg smirked a little and followed him putting his foot out and pushing Chris' back down so he fell face-first into the sand. Of course, everyone had been watching and let out a collective laugh.

Later that day

Vince and Greg sat alone at their usual table eating their lunch. A fifth grader walked past their table and stopped. He walked back over by them and looked at Vince then turned around shouting, "Look everyone. It's the wimp. All he can do is punch people unguarded and stomp off. He needed his only friend to save his butt," to the entire room. The lunch room burst again into a collective laugh. Greg looked up and Vince who clenched his fist.

Greg shook his head, "Just ignore him Vince. All he wants is attention."

Vince shook his head, "I'm sick of them wanting attention and getting it through me." He quickly stood up and walked over by the kid who had his back turned to them and was laughing with the rest of them. Vince was about the same height as the boy and took his shoulder and spun him around.

The boy looked at him and his eyes widened. "I'm sorry. I really didn't find that funny but I know something that everyone else will find funny."

Vince punched the boy in the cheek. As soon as Vince made contact the boy burst into tears causing everyone to laugh a little. Vince shook his head a little at the kid and Greg stood up and pushed him a bit.

"Get out of here before you regret it kid." Greg said as he pushed the boy. Vince and Greg looked at each other and then sat back down as everyone watched them. They continued to eat as everyone watched them, eyes wide. Everyone was amazed. They all thought they were just push-overs. Everyone thought that Crabbe and Goyle would never hurt anyone. Apparently, Chris and that fifth grader just pushed them over the edge that day. Everyone hoped they'd go back to themselves the next day. However, you know what they say, 'Once you're gone, you never come back.'

The End.

A/N: You all thought that Greg was going to hit him didn't you? Yeah, I thought so. Well, he didn't get over it. Hope you enjoyed it. Comments please. -