Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thank you for checking out my story! First off I'd like to let everyone know this is my first time writing a story so any constructive criticism would be appreciated. At this point I do not have any set plans for this story so I am just going to see how it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the wizarding world, or anything affiliated with it. If I did, well, Harry would have used a lot more than the disarming curse and it would have been a bit darker.

So without further ado, lets get this circus on the road!

-Paddy

*WARNING* This story is not light, there are some mature concepts including descriptive violence, possible torture, sexual assault, mentions of suicide and others. Reader Discretion is advised

Rating: This Story will be rated M due to the mature themes and language

Pairings: I have yet to determine pairings but do not expect them early on. I mean, they are kids right now for fucks sake!

Chapter 1

Harry was a normal boy; well, as normal as a 11 year old with a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead could be. He stood at a modest 5 feet tall, his emerald eyes held a mischievous glint and the promise of trouble. Currently his raven hair was cut short, the sides shaved to the skin and the top, choppy yet neat. He was well muscled but one would not notice that fact due to the sweatpants and hoodie he was currently wearing. Harry leaned back and exhaled before pulling himself out of the crouched position he was in. It was nearly time to be home and Harry knew better than to be late. That was one thing his father had impressed upon him when he found Harry, punctuality was important. Harry swept the sweat from his face and began his jog home, it was times like this that he was happy his father had gotten him contacts. His old glasses were more of a hindrance during exercises that he had realized. As Harry made his way back towards his father's apartment, he began to think about the events that had gotten him there.

4 Years Prior

Young Harry sat huddled in the corner of his cupboard, it was winter and his threadbare blanket did little to keep him warm. He tried not to shiver too much in the cold, his uncle's most recent beatings had left big bruises and a few smaller cuts all over his back. His jaw was tender to the touch and it felt like a tooth had been knocked loose. Harry hadn't meant to spill the sauce, honest! He had accidentally knocked over a small pot of sauce that his Aunt had put on the stove for dinner. Upon seeing the mess his uncle had flown into a rage, beating Harry until he blacked out. Harry had awoken in his cupboard a few hours later. This would be his second day without food Harry realized with a twinge of sadness. As he settled in to try to fall back asleep Harry thought about his dream of the woman with red hair, the man with glasses, the bright green light, and the rat.

A few days had passed with Harry being let out of his cupboard to do various chores his Aunt had assigned him and when it was time for school Harry had to do his best to avoid his cousin and his goons. Harry did not want to get caught by them, if he did he knew he would be at the mercy of them which usually meant a few bruised ribs. Harry continues this cycle for another month until a particularly rainy Wednesday evening. Harry was making his way home from school, his uncle had forgotten to pick him up again. This was not an uncommon occurrence so it did not surprise Harry in the least. Nor was he alarmed when his cousin had decided not to go to school that day. His Aunt and Uncle had never batted an eye at Dudley staying home, but if Harry had tried that, well he did not want to know what would happen. Harry was surprised however when he reached home only to find the family car gone and a for sale sign in the front yard. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry began to piece everything together. He had heard his aunt and uncle discussing a family trip for the last few months, his uncle had been particularly cheerful over the last few days, even letting Harry watch tv with them. Worst of all Harry realized they had practically told him this morning before he left for school. "Good Luck there Harry!" his Uncle had shouted out the door as Harry made his way to the bus "Don't worry about dinner tonight! We will have something special when you get home!" Harry felt his knees go weak as he reached the door and looked inside at the dark house. The walls bare, the house empty. Harry's legs finally gave out as he began to hyperventilate slightly. A panic attack, Harry was having a panic attack! Without thinking Harry stood up and began walking, he was in a daze of sorts. By the time he had gotten control of himself again Harry was standing in front of the local police station. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside nervously, there was an older woman at the front desk who looked down at him with kind eyes "Well hello dear" she began in a calming voice, "what can I do for you today?" Harry looked up at her and immediately his eyes began to well with tears, "m-my family, they left me." The woman's eyes immediately widened as she stood up "Franklin! Franklin get in here please" she called out trying to maintain her calm voice but it was strained. The lady knelt down in front of Harry and grabbed his hands "sweetheart my name is Laura, what is yours?" "Harry ma'am" Harry replied in a small voice.

Present

Harry was brought out of his musings by a car horn, he had nearly veered into the road, with his heart beating faster, he finished his run home and walked in the front door. "Dad!" Harry called out as he slipped his hoodie off "I'm home!" When he did not hear a response, Harry walked into the kitchen to find his father sitting at the table, a coffee cup in one hand and a wax sealed letter in the other. His father looked up, his eyes containing hints of stress and slight distress, "sit down Harry" he said in a grizzled voice "We need to talk." Those seven words were enough to make Harry's blood run cold, this was not good, not good at all.