*Hey guys TCov here I hope you enjoyed my little prologue and i know that this took a while to get done. I really hop eyou enjoy this and that it is written in a not so terrible way lol I have never wrote a ficiton before so please...bare with me...OK so ya i could really use some betas if anybody is intrested please PM me. I plan on redoing the first few books in a somewhat canonnical way until probably OOTP. No definate romances yet but i already had a few in mind :)I know the chapter is short but i plan on doin shorter ones with more of them due to my time available to writew and not wanting to go long stretches without updating. So please enjoy and rate, review and PM me about and questions!

Chapter 1: Happy Birthday

Burning emerald eyes, brighter than most would deem possible, shot open as images of death and destruction danced through the owners mind. The young boy sat straight up without remembering one, vey important thing. THUD

"OUCH! ARGHHH!" His head had made rather hard contact with the bottom of the low set of stairs.

"I cant stop forgetting that." The boy groaned to himself as he laid back down slowly rubbing his head. He ran his fingers through his untamed jet black mane revealing a very defined and destinct lightning bolt shaped scar on the upper right hand corner of his forehead. No matter how he tried to force his hair to his whim it just sprang back up in random spots and directions as if having a life of its own.

"Why bother?" He spoke gently to himself. He then closed his eyes and his brows furrowed.

What have these nightmares been? They seem so... so real...but theres no possible way they could be...could they? He mused in his thoughts. First the strange green flashes and screams and now this? Seven years old and I'm losing it. Damn Dursleys.

The boy opened his eyes and noticed a faint hue of light entering from under the small room's door. "Time to get up anyway I guess." He said with a sigh. He opened the door revealing a quaint and rather underwhelming living room or rather an entire underwhelming house. He then quietly closed the door to what could be now seen as not a proper room but a cubboard under the stairs. He made his way to the kitchen as he did every morning to prepare his most hospitible hosts their breakfasts. He had just finished placing the final plate onto the kitchen table to set it when his Aunt Petunia, a skinny, lenghtly, horse faced woman entered through the archway.

"What is your freakishness doing in here still?" She said with a harsh tone directed to the boy. "You should have started on those flower beds by now!" She looked at him expectantly as he slowly lowered his head.

"I am sorry Aunt Petunia." He spoke gingerly with little to no pride. "I am almost finished cooking the bacon then I will start on them shortly." He eagerly turned his attention back to the frying pan that was currently on the stove trying to avoid her glares towards him. After a short time he slowly looked back over his right shoulder to see his Aunt had taken her seat and was busyi ng herself with this mornings paper fashion or celebrity section. Either of which he truly did not care. Then slowly raised his hand over the pan tho try to sneak a bit of bacon when suddenly his hand force forciblly pressed down into the searing hot pan filled with bacon grease. He screamed out in extreme agony.

"BOY YOU DO NOT STEAL MY FOOD!" His Uncle Vernon bellowed into his ear as he must have entered when the boy wasnt paying attention. " I RAISE YOUR WORTHLESS ASS AND YOU STEAL FROM ME?!" His uncled easily raised him up off the ground by the boys wrist he had snatched earlier to throw him rather painfully onto the ground near the back door. "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND YOU BETTER HAVE YOUR AUNTS FLOWER BEDS LOOKING PERFECT WHEN I GET HOME YOU FILTH!" He thundered as the boy hurried to recover and run throught the door towards the backyard.

The boy ran as fast as he could towards the shed in corner of the back yard. He resisted with all his might to scream any further so as to not ensure futher pain be inflicted upon him this day. As he opened and closed the door as quickly as he could he dropped to his knees. He held his right wrist with his left hand looking at the burns caused on the palm on his right. Tears were falling straight away as he could no longer hold them back.

"Please stop. Please Stop. Please Stop." He repeated over and over again referring to the pain. He scrunched his eyes closed as hard as he could and fervently rocked back and forth. He tried with all his might and more at willing the pain away. Slowly, but very much noticeably the pain did just that. Within minutes the pain was nearly gone as he slowly opened his eyes to look down upon the palm of his hand.

"Just another day in the life of Harry Potter. Happy Birthday to me." He spoke in a depressed broken tone as he gazed downwards as a tear fell from his cheek. His hand had almost entirely healed. There were slight burns but nothing major. He stood back up and walked over to the back bench wrist still in hand. He grabbed a small medical kit that he stored in the shed out (His family never entered here so it was his own little safe haven). He opened it and removed some gauze wrap to bandage up his hand more so to hide his miraculous healing than anything else. "Would rather not have to deal with being beat for doing something freakish again." Harry said as flexed his hand to verify the bandage was adequate. He then hastily left the small shed with a small garden shovel and rake in hand to get on with todays daily chores.

Harry had not noticed or felt that he had a set of eyes fixed upon him. Gazing intently from the bush line behind the shed a man stood himself up and brushed himself off from kneeling in the mulch. He sighed deapply and then stalked his way over to the boy that was working intently on the flower bed accross the yard with jis back towards him.

"Harry Potter?" The man called out from half way acroos the yard.

Harry shot up and turned around in a flash of fear and startlement. "Who...who are you? What do you want?" Harry stammered as he took a very calculkated step backwards.

The man was somewhat tall ands seemed to be built rather well. He had a very weathered look about him. The man had a very chiseled face adorned with a dark brown goatee and he had dark brown swept back hair as well. What really caught harry off guard was the rather strange attire this man was wearing. He was wearing what looked some sort of form fitting red colored robes under what could only be described as light armor on his abdomen, shims and forearms. The piece on his chest had a few throwing knives strapped to it and he carried a sword onhis side.

The man gained a kind and gentle smile as he stared at the boy before him. "I, Harry Potter, am Wyatt Evans. I am here to finally take you home."

Harry's mouth gaped open at the mans last words. He felt such an array of emotions he hadn't a clue what to say or think. The only response that he could give was to subsequently, succumb to the extreme dizinesss and rining in his ears as he fell forward and passed out as the last thing he saw was the rather hard ground coming quickly and furiously. "Bugger" Was the last word that he whispered out before he slammed face first into the ground. Happy Birthday Harry Potter, may they never be the same again.