Ok, I really liked this when I thought it up, but I didn't do it justice from what I originally planned out. I'm fixing and reposting all the chapters. This is purely because I don't like how I wrote it and I want to fix it to make myself feel better about the story, and it will make it easier to continue knowing that the quality will be consistent.

Prologue

Baby Harry laid in his crib, tears streaming down his face. His mother was dead on the floor, and his father's body was lying at the foot of the stairs. Severus walked into the house, stepping over his old rival's corpse and walked up the stairs. He saw Lily's body on the ground, her once lovely green eyes staring blankly into nothingness. His loud sobs filled the air as he cradled his childhood love. Harry couldn't hear a thing.

Chapter 1

Harry was used to being deaf. He was fluent in sign language thanks to his elementary school's outreach program, which was designed to help students with disabilities learn with the rest of the kids. His aid, Natasha, would sit in class next to him and translate the teacher's words to sign. When it was vocabulary day, she would write out the words and teach him the sign for them. He still had his voice, but he was too afraid to use it after living with the Dursleys for so long. He laughed sometimes, like when Natasha made jokes at Dudley's expense. He didn't speak sign. None of the Dursleys cared to learn it. They left a list of chores taped to the fridge. If they weren't done by the time given at the bottom of the list, he was punished.

He had found out he was deaf quite early in life. The Dursleys had begrudgingly taken him to the doctor when he was extremely sick and they didn't want Dudley to catch it. It turned out to just be a case of pneumonia, but his physical had shown vision impairment and almost non-existent hearing. He had gotten glasses, and the Dursleys had gotten books on raising children with hearing disabilities that were promptly thrown away, along with a phone number for a person who could teach them sign so they could communicate with Harry, which was also thrown away.

Harry wasn't dumb. Far from it actually. He was years ahead of his grade in reading. Natasha saw to that when he was punished for not knowing how to read the lists on the fridge. He learned how to read clocks, analog and digital, by first grade. His school taught time reading in third. Dudley always beat him up when he caught Harry laughing. After Dudley ended up breaking his arm and the nurse had to set it in a cast, he stopped laughing. Natasha was moved to another student after she tried to get something done about Harry's living situation and was told, "mind your own business," by her boss. After that, he didn't communicate much, only the bare essentials like having to go to the bathroom, needing food or water, or saying that he understood.

This morning, Aunt Petunia woke him up like she always did. She opened his cupboard door and shook him awake. Harry sat up quickly and fumbled to put on his glasses. Before he even had time to think, his arm was grabbed and he was dragged out of his closet and into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia yanked him over to the refrigerator and pointed harshly at his list for the day. He straightened his glasses and read what his first task for the day would be.

Laundry.

That's easy enough, Harry thought. At least I don't have to make breakfast this time. That was a disaster last time. He walked into the laundry room, narrowly avoiding the leg Dudley, his cousin, stuck out from underneath the table to trip him. Dudley was at the kitchen table was counting wrapped boxes on the table. Oh, that's right, it's Dudley's birthday, Harry thought. He continued on into the laundry room. The basket of dirty clothes was almost as big as he was, but he still managed to lift it and carry it to the washer where he started sorting the clothes by color. After filling the washer with the first load and turning it on, he headed back to the kitchen to check the list.

Get the mail.

The Dursleys must be in a good mood today, giving him such an easy list. Harry went into the hallway and gathered the mail from the carpet in front of the door. He shuffled through the envelopes. Bill. Bill. Advertisement for a lawn mowing service.

And something strange.

There was an envelope addressed to him. It was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. That couldn't be right. Harry had no friends, no relatives, no one who would want to write to him. But there is was in clear writing.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The letter was addressed to him. He took the mail to the kitchen, absentmindedly handing Uncle Vernon the other mail and flipping over his own letter to open it. It was sealed with wax and there was a strange coat of arms imprinted on the seal. Suddenly the letter was snatched from his hands by Dudley's fat hands.

He waved it in the air and his mouth moved as though he were yelling. Uncle Vernon looked up from the mail and snatched the letter from Dudley. He looked at it and scoffed, shredding it in his beefy hands. Harry's face fell as Uncle Vernon tossed the shredded letter in the garbage. Uncle Vernon pointed harshly at the list on the fridge. Harry's shoulders slumped and he walked back over to the list to see what his next task was.

Weed the garden.

Well, that's a little harder, Harry thought. He went out to the back yard and crouched next to the flowerbed and began pulling the weeds out of the ground. Half an hour later, his arms and legs shook as they bore his skeletal weight. Last time he ate was the day before yesterday, his punishment for burning the breakfast the morning before. I just have to finish my chores and I'll get fed, Harry told himself.

When he had finished weeding the garden, he went back inside, wiping his brow on the back of his arm. There was a plate of nibbled on toast and a half-drunk glass of milk on the table. Aunt Petunia was gathering the dishes and putting them in the sink for him to wash. She pointed at the toast and milk, indicating that he was to eat it.

He shoved the toast in his mouth and chewed eagerly, finishing the plate and downing the milk in a matter of minutes. He carried the glass and plate over to the sink and started washing the dishes. The hot water scalded his hands but he knew better than to flinch or add cold water to make it more tolerable. He could see his aunt and uncle talking to each other in the living room and neither of them looked happy. Aunt Petunia threw him an ugly look and he ducked his head, scrubbing the frying pan in his hands faster.

"We can't take him with us!" Petunia whispered in outrage. "It'll ruin my Dudy's birthday!" She noticed the boy watching them and she glared at him. He ducked his head and went back to scrubbing the dishes.

"Well Mrs. Figg broke her leg, there's no way she can watch him," Vernon said. "And we can't just leave him home, he'll destroy the place."

"Now what?" Petunia asked.

"We could phone Marge," Vernon suggested.

"She hates the boy, she wouldn't take him," Petunia huffed.

Vernon sighed frustratedly and tugged on his thick mustache that often made him look like a walrus.

"I suppose we'll have to take him with us. We could leave him in the car…"

"The car's new, he's not staying in it alone," Vernon protested. Suddenly the doorbell rang.

"Oh goodness! They're here already!" Petunia said frantically.

Harry couldn't believe his luck when he found himself in the back of the car with Dudley and Piers, going to the zoo for the first time in his life. Before he had gotten in the car, Uncle Vernon had thrust a note in his hand.

Any funny business and you'll get the lashing of your life. When Harry looked up, Vernon patted his belt buckle meaningfully and narrowed his beady eyes at him. Harry nodded in understanding.

The thing about Harry's life was that strange occurrences weren't uncommon by a long shot, much to the Dursley's despair. Once, Aunt Petunia had shaved off all Harry's hair, leaving only the bangs to cover his scar, but the next morning, all of his hair had grown back again, just as long as before. He had been locked in the cupboard for a week because of that despite Harry having no explanation for how it all grew back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia was trying to force Harry into one of Dudley's old sweaters. It was an ugly brown thing with orange puff balls all over it. It seemed that the harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it became until it was so small it would only have fit a doll. Aunt Petunia assumed that it must have shrunk in the wash and, much to Harry's relief, he wasn't punished for it.

There was also the time he was punished for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley and his friends enjoyed a wonderful game known as "Harry Hunting" and Harry was running from them when suddenly he found himself on the roof. He had no clue how he had gotten up there, but supposed when he went to jump behind the rubbish bins behind the building, the wind must have caught him and carried him up there, despite him having no recollection of the event.

Harry now watched in fascination as a motorbike drove past the car at a high speed. It reminded Harry of the dream he had had the night before of a flying motorcycle.

When they arrived at the zoo, Harry kept a careful distance from Piers and Dudley, especially when they started to get bored with the animals and he feared they would take to hitting him as entertainment. At lunch, they ate at the zoo restaurant. Dudley complained that his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top and Harry was allowed to finish the rest of it. After lunch, they went to the reptile house. Harry was instantly enthralled with the dimly lit atmosphere and felt the moist heat of the room sink into his skin with relish. Dudley and Piers were most interested with the poisonous cobras and pythons almost as thick as Dudley's arms. Harry was intrigued by all the animals contained behind walls of glass: lizards, snakes, turtles. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It was so big it could have wrapped around Uncle Vernon's car twice. Dudley pressed his nose against the glass and watched the brown, scaly creature. It was asleep. He tapped angrily on the glass. "Move! Come on! Do something! Dad, make it move!" Uncle Vernon wrapped on the glass with his beefy knuckles but the snake didn't react.

"This is boring," Dudley declared and moved on to the next tank. Harry walked up to the glass hesitantly, peering at the large reptile.

Poor thing. I bet he gets sick of people coming in every day, gawking at him. Tapping on the glass. The snake raised its head and made eye contact with Harry. The snake jerked its head in the direction of Dudley and Uncle Vernon and appeared to roll its eyes. Harry didn't know it was possible for a snake to roll its eyes and was amazed.

The snake's face seemed to say, I deal with that kind of thing all the time. Harry smiled slightly at the snake.

I wonder where you're from, Harry wondered again in his head. The snake's tail flicked, drawing his attention to the small plaque telling about the snake. Bred in captivity. Can you read my mind? Harry thought. The snake shook his head. But how are you understanding me then? Harry mentally asked the snake. Suddenly, Harry was punched in the ribs and he fell to the ground as Dudley tried to get a better look at the snake now that it was moving. He and Piers had their faces pressed to the glass, gawking at the snake, which hissed in irritation. The next thing Harry knew, they were falling forward into the tank. The glass had simply disappeared.

The snake slithered out of the tank, leaving Dudley and Piers screaming as it nipped playfully at their ankles. Everyone was screaming and shrieking as the snake glided over the floor and out of the building.

The zoo director personally apologized to Aunt Petunia and brewed her a strong cup of sweetened tea to ease her nerves. He took statements from Dudley and Piers for the incident report and Piers said something that had all heads turning to Harry. "Harry was talking to the snake," he said innocently, but there was a gleam of malice in his eyes. "Weren't you, Harry?" Harry looked at everyone in confusion, unable to have heard the accusation.

He signed, what?

After dropping Piers off at his house, they went home. Harry knew from the look on Uncle Vernon's face that he was in trouble. When Uncle Vernon took off his belt and motioned Harry over, his spirits sank.

Harry had no clue how long he had been in the cupboard or how long he had gone without food. He only knew that his back ached like it never had before and that his sides ached with a pang of intense hunger.

When Harry was finally allowed out of his cupboard and given a plate of stale leftovers, he couldn't have been more relieved. After he hungrily gobbled up the food, Aunt Petunia pointed to his chores list on the fridge. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 8 in the morning. The first chore on his list was of course to get the mail. Uncle Vernon and Dudley came downstairs and Harry pressed himself close to the wall to stay out of their way. They both sat at the table and waited for Aunt Petunia to finish making breakfast. Harry fetched the mail from the hall. Bill. Bill. Junk mail. A letter from Uncle Vernon's work. And another one of those strange letters on the heavy parchment. Harry was determined to hide this one so he hid it under his shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his overly large pants, held up by one of Dudley's old belts so that it didn't fall to the floor as he carried the mail to the kitchen.

He handed the mail to Uncle Vernon and went to look at his chores list, but Dudley tripped him before he made it to the fridge and the letter went flying out of his waistband, landing on the floor. Dudley snatched it up before Harry had a chance to and went to open it, but Uncle Vernon ripped it from his hands and tore it to shreds before he was able to break the wax seal. He chucked the thing in the rubbish bin, sending a glare to Harry as he walked back to his seat at the table. Harry quickly rushed to the fridge and checked his list.

Scrub the bathroom tiles.

Harry's shoulders slumped as he fetched a bucket, scrubbing brush, and the floor cleaner from the cupboard under the sink where the cleaning supplies were kept. Harry set to completing his first task of the day.

Over the next few days, Harry wasn't allowed to fetch the mail. Uncle Vernon made sure to get the mail before letting him out of his cupboard, ensuring all of the letters were destroyed before Harry could even have a chance of opening one. They were coming in multitudes. Most of the time, the normal mail was buried under massive piles of these letters. One morning while Harry was scrubbing the dishes, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were speaking in hushed tones to each other in the living room.

"They know about him sleeping in the cupboard! What if those freaks come here and do something to us?" Uncle Vernon whispered. Dudley was away at one of his friend's houses, so he wasn't there to listen in on the conversation, but talking about this kind of thing seemed to taboo to do in a normal voice.

"We should move him. Maybe Dudikins will let us move him into his second bedroom," Petunia suggested.

"Why should our boy have to sacrifice his things for that little freak?!" Vernon asked angrily.

"Because maybe they'll leave us alone if we move him." Vernon took to pacing the living room as Petunia pinched the bridge of her nose in thought.

"Fine. We'll move him into Dudley's second bedroom for now, and when those freaks stop bothering us, we can move the boy back to the cupboard." Petunia nodded at Vernon's declaration.

"Alright. I'll break the news to Dudley when he gets back from his friend's house."

The next day, Harry found himself gathering his few possessions as he was moved to Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley threw a fit the entire time and hurled things across the room as all of his broken toys or things he got tired of were moved out of the second bedroom and into the bedroom he slept in. Harry didn't have many possessions, mostly hand-me-down clothes from Dudley that he could no longer fit into and a few toy soldiers that Dudley discarded.

The second bedroom had a small bed, a dresser, and a small desk that was originally Dudley's when he was younger for him to do his homework at but he was no longer able to use it as he was far too large now. Harry sat on the bed and looked around the room. He had never been on a bed before and he was surprised at how soft it was.

Downstairs, Petunia managed to calm Dudley down by bribing him with new toys and ice cream.

The next time the letters came, they didn't come with the regular mail. They were rolled up into the eggs that the milkman brought. They were once again addressed to Harry, but with some minor adjustments:

Mr. H. Potter

The Smallest Bedroom

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Petunia and Vernon shared a look.

The letters kept coming in more and more bizarre ways. Uncle Vernon hammered a board over the mail flap, but the letters were just shoved under the door. They would be jammed through the small window in the bathroom, and soon Uncle Vernon was losing his mind. He called the post office dozens of times demanding that they start filtering those letters out of their mail, but the postmaster insisted that they didn't have any of those letters going through their system and that they must have been hand-delivered outside the umbrella of the postal service.

By Sunday, even Petunia and Dudley were getting scared.

"Sunday. Best day of the week, in my opinion. No post, no letters, no noth—" Vernon was cut off as something flew out of the chimney and hit him in the forehead. A letter. Vernon stood up and roared, "NO MORE LETTERS IN THIS RUDDY HOUSE!" He was once again interrupted by thirty more letters shooting out of the chimney like bullets, and they just kept coming. The Dursley's ducked and covered their faces, but Harry desperately tried to snatch one out of the air futilely. Vernon caught on to what he was doing and he snatched Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon rushed out of the hall after him. "WE'RE MOVING!" Vernon declared.

Uncle Vernon only allowed them half an hour to pack before he rushed everyone into the car and started driving. Dudley didn't even have the nerve to throw a temper tantrum when he was unallowed to pack his small television and all of his sports balls.

They were on the road for hours, eventually coming to a stop at a motel in the middle of nowhere. Vernon rented a room and they settled into the small room. There were only two beds, so Petunia and Vernon shared one and Dudley got the other. Harry slept on the floor.

In all honesty, Harry wasn't surprised when the owner approached their table the next day at breakfast, holding a familiar letter.

"Are any of you H. Potter? I've got about a hundred of these back at the front desk."

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

And so they promptly set back on the road.