Prologue:
A raven-haired baby sniffled weakly, his nose crusty and eyes red and cheeks tear-stricken. A breeze ruffled the child's hair, the new morning sun peaking out over the fog, the weather appearing to reflect the poor child's mood.
The boy had woken to a strange new place, a place without the familiar comforts of his nursery, unaware that just last night, his life had changed forever. For now though, the boy suckled his thumb, tummy rumbling, nose red from the moist chill threatening to soak into his blanket, the only reminder he still had of his old life.
When a man walked out to head to work after kissing his wife and son good-bye, he nearly stepped on the child, the boy's bright green eyes peeking out under the curtain of messy bangs.
The family living at the end of the cul-de-sac took the small boy in as their own, their second son, and they vowed to care for him to the best of their ability, and protect him from the dangers that took the boy's first guardians away.
The boy grew up, knowing that the man and woman were not his first parents, but they were more than just an uncle and aunt to him. The boy may have had his first family taken away, but that morning, when his dad found him on the steps, a red enveloped letter containing a black seal, representing death, he gained a new family. A mum and dad, and new brother.
They were by no means a normal family, but they accepted the strangeness, but in secret the man and woman feared for their adopted son, worried that he would be taken from them too.
They worried when the boy found a garden snake and talked to it, confused as to why nobody else could understand. They worried when the boy turned his nursery teacher's hair blue when she was scolding the boy's brother. They especially worried when the owl showed up. When two letters were pushed through the slot, with each of their son's names written on them.
The boy may have thought that the day he came to his adoptive parents was the biggest change, but, as he munched on the bacon, chatting animatedly with his brother, his parents were going to shock their sons even more.
For the thin boy, with a strange scar on his forehead that his mum said happened the night his parents died, (but she would never elaborate, saying he was too young) was no ordinary kid. Nor was he an ordinary wizard. For he was Harry Potter, known to the Wizarding World he was soon to be introduced to as the Boy-Who-Lived, famous for doing what his first set of parents failed to do: survive.
