It was the next morning when a rather large man stepped out of his home at Number 4 Privet Drive and almost tripped over the bundled boy on the front steps. "PETUNIA?!" he called for his wife back in the house. There was the sound of small feet moving through the house toward him and a stifled gasp escaped the woman, Petunia's, mouth.

"Oh my, Vernon what is this? The poor thing must be cold out here, don't worry dear I will bring him in and figure out what's going on. You have a lovely day" She kissed him on the cheek and bent to scoop the baby boy up and the note he was holding onto. Petunia carried the little one inside as her husband, Vernon, left work without another word. "Now let us see what we have here" she crooned as she held the baby, at that moment he woke up and stared at her with the most piercing green eyes, her sister's eyes. This caused her to startle and almost dropped the child she was holding. Petunia eyed the note and decided to set the little one down in order to read what it was and hopefully get to the bottom of this. She picked up the letter once again and examined it. The crest on one side looked familiar but she couldn't place where she had seen it before. As she flipped the envelope over it read:

To Mr. And Mrs. V. Dursley

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey

As Petunia read the address her hands started shaking, she had a feeling she knew precisely where this letter came from, but it had been many years since she had seen it. She tore the seal open and gently lifted the folded parchment inside. Opening the folded paper, she saw the word HOGWARTS across the top and sunk down to her knees. "What could they possibly want now? I know my Dudleykins isn't one of those freaks so why would they be-" she cut herself off as she caught sight of the next few lines. Her sister has been killed and this little boy was her son, Harry Potter, and he has no other living family. Petunia took a few steadying breaths before finishing the letter. Once she finished reading, it limply fell from her hands as she stared at the small boy, her nephew, Harry Potter.

It has been nine almost 10, very long years since that day happened. Harry was a skinny boy with unruly black hair, and the most vibrant green eyes. He was entirely too skinny and wore broken glasses that didn't help as much as they should, but it was better than not seeing. All of this was topped by a very visible lightning bolt shaped scar. His Cousin on the other had was Dudley, he was a slob with blonde hair, not much neck, and a very pig like appetite. He looked more like his father than his mother for sure. He was on the larger side and loved to play a game he and his friends made, Harry Hunting. That was how his glasses broke several times, and of course all the strange things that happened around him gave reason to his aunt and uncle to put him in the cupboard for longer periods of time. Now that Harry and Dudley are going to separate schools maybe it will get better and just maybe Harry will finally make some friends.

It was the morning of July 24th, Harry was woken by a terrible smell coming from the kitchen. He pushed open his cupboard door and made his way out into the hallway to find where this stench was coming from. Harry followed his nose to the kitchen to see a large pot boiling away on the stove.

"What is that?" Harry asked more to himself. He hadn't realized his Aunt Petunia was standing in the kitchen when he asked that. He caught sight of her though and her lips were pressed together in such a way that he regretted speaking.

"That would be your new school uniform. I am dyeing some of Dudley's old clothes grey so that they will look just like everyone else's." Petunia turned on her heel and went to the pot, stirring it caused another waft of stench to drift across the kitchen.

Harry knew better than to argue, so he just made his way to the table and tried desperately not to think of how he would look on his first day at Stonewall High. Soon after both Dudley and Uncle Vernon walked into the room with wrinkled noses as they sat down at the table. The rolling boil from the pot was the only sound that could be heard for the next several minutes until the mail flap clicked open and hit the floor beneath. Vernon looked up from his paper "boy go get the mail" he said this in a gruff voice which left no room for argument, not that Harry would anyway he wasn't that crazy.

Harry stood and made his way to the front door to collect the mail, there were only three pieces waiting there: a post card from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and a letter addressed to Harry?

Harry stood there looking at it, he never received mail, why would he? He had no other relatives, or friends for that matter. He stared at the front of it, there was no mistake it was plainly addressed to him:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was heavy, thick and looked to be made of a yellowing parchment paper. The writing was in an emerald green ink, but there was no stamp or return address where one would normally be. Harry flipped the envelope over and noticed a stamped purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large capital H.

"Boy, what is taking so long?!" Uncle Vernon called from the kitchen; he wasn't happy it was taking such a long time to pick the mail up. Harry quickly made his way back and gave Uncle Vernon the post card and bill while still looking at his letter.

Uncle Vernon opened the bill, snorting at it he tossed it aside. He then flipped the post card over and skimmed it, "Marge is ill, apparently ate something that didn't agree with her."

As Vernon looked up Dudley shouted "Dad! Dad! Harry has something"

Harry had just pulled the parchment from its envelope and was about to unfold it when he was grabbed by the wrist and the letter was snatched out of it. "Hey that's mine, give it back!" too late he realized it was Uncle Vernon that had taken it not Dudley.

"Why would anyone want to write such a waste of space?" Vernon sneered at Harry while shaking the letter open with the hand not holding Harry. He glanced at the letter and his face changed between several colors before settling on a graying pale. "P-P-Petunia" he managed a strangled gasp to his wife.

Petunia took the letter before Dudley could and started reading before she made a choking sound herself, "Oh my, Vernon, this isn't good." Petunia eyed both boys, "you both, out for the day. Go on get going."

Both Harry and Dudley left but not before Dudley tried to get in a good whack with his smelting stick. Vernon and Petunia had a heated discussion on what should be done, they finally decided to do nothing.

That evening when Harry returned Vernon pulled him aside, "where is my letter, I want it back." Harry no longer cared what happened he wanted to know who was writing him and why.

"No need to worry about that, it was a mistake and I have burned it." Vernon replied coolly with a menacing twinkle in his eyes.

"It wasn't a mistake; it had my cupboard on it." Harry was angry. "I deserve to know what my letter said."

"ENOUGH" Vernon bellowed. He took a few deep breaths and started again. "About your cupboard, we really think you are getting too big for it and think moving you into Dudley's second bedroom would be better for you." He finished saying this with a smile, which looked more like a grimace of pain.

Harry was going to question it but decided better of it. He grabbed his stuff and made his way upstairs to the smallest of the rooms.

For the following five days letters continued to come for Harry all being intercepted by Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. The sixth day was Sunday, and no one expected any mail to come, but they were in for a shock. Just as the Dursleys sat down to enjoy a quite morning a rumbling sound come from the chimney, not five minutes later several dozen letters came flying from the fireplace. Harry tried to grab one, but Uncle Vernon grabbed him to keep him from grabbing one from the floor. Harry then began trying to grab one from the air as they fell with no luck. Uncle Vernon tossed Harry out into the hall and closed the door behind Dudley.

"That's it! We are leaving! Five minutes, I want you to pack some clothes and get down here in five minutes!" Vernon sounded crazy at this point. Ten minutes later they were all in the car speeding toward the highway. They drove and drove for a long time before Uncle Vernon would make a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while, muttering to himself, "shake 'em off. Just need to shake 'em off" The entire day was spent driving all over. It was well after nightfall when they finally stopped at a gloomy-looking hotel just on the outskirts of a big city.

It was the next morning, just after finishing breakfast when the owner of the hotel approached them. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? I have a lot of these at the front desk." She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address on the front:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Vernon Dursley paled at the sight. "Throw them out, burn them, I don't care what you do with them just get them away from us." He stood from the table "we are leaving now."

Once they had gathered all their belongings, they loaded the car and begun driving. Vernon stopped multiple times, got out looked around, shook his head and got back in the car. They finally drove to a bay-side dock and Vernon smiled. "This is it; we are here. Everyone out." He looked happy which was unsettling, but the look of everything around them made it that much worse. They all looked at a large rock with a house atop it that looked to be out at sea.

As they were rowing across Dudley was complaining that it was Monday, which made Harry think. If it was Monday then that means tomorrow is Tuesday, which means its Harry's eleventh birthday. It's not every day that you turn eleven, though his birthdays were never anything that his so-called family cared for.

They arrived on the little island and the sky started to look like a strong storm was moving in quickly. Dudley took the couch and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took the only bed in the tiny shack, leaving Harry to find the most comfortable place to sleep on the floor. Harry was lying on the floor looking at Dudley's watch, counting down the seconds till his birthday.

Five...four...three...two...one

CRASH

The front door of the hut blew in, Harry jumped to his feet unsure of what was happening. A giant man stood in the doorway while the rain poured behind him. "My apologies," the man stepped in and lifted the door back up to the frame. "The name is Rubeus Hagrid; everyone calls me Hagrid though." The man, Hagrid stepped in and smiled warmly at Harry. "You must be Harry, haven't seen you since you were just a little thing. You are the spitting image of your father, cept the eyes, those are from your mom."

Harry stepped forward "you knew my parents? Can you tell me about them?" Harry was desperate for anything he could learn of his family.

"Course I knew 'em," Hagrid looked astonishingly at Harry then moved his gaze to the Dursleys who finally showed themselves. "You, did you ever tell him anything?" He accusingly pointed at them. Once he saw the guilty looks, he knew he would be the one to have to explain everything to Harry. "Well first off, happy birthday Harry, not every day your young man turns eleven. Made this for you though I may have sat on it at some point." Hagrid proceeded to pull a slightly smashed cake out of his pocket and handed it to Harry. "Also, this since you haven't gotten any of the other letters we have sent you." Hagrid pulled a familiar looking envelope from another pocket and handed it to Harry.