Alright! This is just a little Harry Potter plot bunny that was in my head and wouldn't get out! Unfortunately, I am not the most dedicated author and will probably write one chapter and forget about the story. Let's hope that doesn't happen!

Disclaimer: I don't intend on repeating this, so I don't own Harry Potter or any of the related themes, characters, settings, etc. I also don't own the Joker or anything that has to do with him. The both belong to whoever they belong to.

It was an average day on Privet drive, with its average houses and average roads. Everyone who lived on Privet drive had an average house and an average family, who had average children.

But not one house.

You see, in one house there lived a special family or more specifically, a special child. Why? Because this child had a special gift. He wasn't like the others. No, young Harry was something else.

He was a wizard.

But instead of being acknowledged for it, he was shunned. His family hated him. The two adults absolutely abhorred him. Not too long after that, their son learned from them, and started hating Harry too, for reasons not his own.

Thus, Harry James Potter was treated with no love or respect. He was treated like a slave, forced to do things that no other average six year old would do. He was forced to wash the dishes, clean the house, weed the garden, and starting since his sixth birthday, he was forced to cook. Of course, being six, he wasn't any good at it. He burnt the eggs, undercooked the bacon, and didn't slice the toast thin enough. Anyone with common sense would know that this was bound to happen.

But, the Dursleys weren't just anyone. They were vile humans, beating the poor child and torturing him, both mentally and physically. All common sense was thrown out the window when he was involved. When their child asked why they did this to him, they answered in five words.

"Because he is a freak."

So, with the encouragement of his parents, young Dudley Dursley started ridiculing and making fun of Harry too.

But how come no one noticed this?

Well, in reality, a lot of people did, but they chose to keep it to themselves. For if they even hinted that something was not normal, that something wasn't right, their perfect little world would have been shattered.

Can't have that now can we?

Today, young Harry Potter was preparing dinner. Not an unusual task, since he had started preparing meals two months ago, with his birthday marking the start. Today was like any other. Cook the meal for the two lards and the skinny wench, eat a slice of bread and a glass of water, then get locked in his cupboard for the rest of the night.

Yes, just another day for him.

Except for one fact.

Vernon Dursley, ever the bottomless pit, was reaching around Harry to grab a few bits of the meal to eat before dinner started. He didn't care that Harry was cutting vegetables with a sharp knife. He didn't care that his hand knocked Harry's as he was reaching for another morsel. He didn't care, that the knife flew out of Harry's hand.

He cared ever so much however, when said knife went halfway through his left hand's index finger, blood spraying everywhere.

He didn't feel anything though. He looked down and he could see his finger was gushing blood. After a delay, Vernon felt pain like nothing he had ever felt before. He felt as if, well, as if he was cut by a knife!

In his blind rage of fury, he mistook Harry's grimace as a grin, as if the freak was mocking him, as if it did it on purpose. He saw red.

"You think this is funny BOY?!" Vernon grabbed the knife "You think cutting off my finger would be amusing, FREAK?!"

Harry's grimace turned into a look of shock, then fear. "You're not smiling now, are you?" He sounded insane, a gleam in his eye, accompanied by a crazy look. "Well why don't you smile again?! Why are you so serious now?!"He advanced on Harry with the knife held high in his right hand, backing Harry into a corner. He was coming ever so closer, with the knife poised at Harry's face. Harry stepped back, and back, and back, until he was pinned against the wall.

"COME ON! SMILE! I WANT YOU TO SMILE! I DARE YOU TO SMILE!" He started cutting. "Why. So. Serious?"

His deed done, Vernon backed off his look of primal joy and insanity fading into confusion. Then shock. Then denial. He would go to jail for this! He must cover this up somehow, before his wife and son came home!

He took the already unconscious child and put him on the kitchen table, frantically looking for something, anything that could make the boy look normal. His eyes landed on his wife's sewing kit. With no other option, Vernon grabbed a needle and some string.

Over the next hour, Vernon worked on the unconscious boy, stopping only to bandage his cut finger. When he was done, he wiped the boy's face free of blood, and then started on the rest of the kitchen, lest anyone know about what had happened. When he finished, he took a good, long glance at the boy.

It was a truly repulsive sight. It looked as if there were two horizontal lines on either side of his mouth, forming an eerie smile of sorts on his face. Well, at least he had accomplished his mindless goal.

He picked the freak up off the table and threw him in his "room", never mind where his body landed. Vernon sighed as he went back into the kitchen and saw the half prepared meal. Right now eating was the last thing on his mind.

Bump

Vernon woke up in the middle of the night, startled by a sound. Now he didn't particularly get spooked by things that went bump in the night, but it was best to exercise caution. He got out of bed and grabbed his wooden baseball bat before slowly leaving his room.

Bump

There it was again. It seemed to be coming from downstairs. Vernon slowly creaked down the steps, trying (and failing) not to make too much noise.

Bump"What a sturdy door..."

Vernon paused, standing on the last step, peeking over the banister into the hallway. The voice sent chills up his spine, the gravely sound of an adult in his house. He got off the last step and tiptoed over to the origin of the sound.

Bump

It was coming from…the cupboard? Vernon stood in front of it, confusion written across his face.

BumCRASH!

The door burst off its hinges, locks and all, narrowly missing Vernon. A haze of splinters and dust coming out of the doorway, concealing exactly who or what was inside.

Vernon was flabbergasted when a child, the same size and build of the freak was left standing there. Except, it wasn't the freak. This person had scraggly green hair that reached his shoulders, and a ghostly white face. But that wasn't what unnerved Vernon.

No, what unnerved him, what the eerie, ruby red smile on its face.

"Well hello, uncle."

And that, was the first chapter to this story. Leave a review to tell me what you think!

~S.T.A.N.