Prologue-

Thump. Thump. Thump. His feet pounded against the pavement, the thin soles of this shoes smacking harshly against the cold concrete. His legs continued to pump, straining against exhaustion. His hair was whipped into a frenzy of black tendrils as his eyes stung with tears.

Suddenly, the boys face split into an uncharacteristic grin, looking up into the black night sky and the street lights that continued to whizz by above him, "like stars" he breathed, skidding to a stop. A bubble of warmth spilled out of his mouth as laughter, wild and free and mad, was released. He continued to cackle, doubling over as he attempted to compose himself. The roar of a train distracted him, he looked over to where the noise was coming from and instantly observed an open window on the side of one of the carriages, his eyes widened as he swivelled and attempted to chase after the train ignoring the trickle of blood that ran down his side. Harry Potter, was free.

Chapter 1-

"Outside." Petunia hissed, grasping the silent boys frail elbow and yanking him into the garden. "I want every one of these weeds, gone! Understand?" She glanced hesitantly towards the house before thrusting a pair of battered gardening gloves into his skinny arms, "Understand?", she repeated. The child looked up at her and blinked his clear forest green eyes and nodded softly. His aunt nodded back curtly. She turned and briskly walked back towards the house, her head bobbing at the neighbours twitching curtains and her mouth stretched into a frozen grimace of a smile.

Back in the garden the dark haired boy knelt down and began to clasp at the weeds with an oversized glove, while attempting to shield his pale skin against the unyielding suns rays with his other hand. He paused and sighed as he surveyed the rest of the weed scattered garden.

The house was empty, Uncle was at work, Auntie was shopping and Dudley was at school. Harry frowned as the neighbours cat delicately pushed dirt over the faeces it had just excreted. He'd have to pick that up later. School, Harry felt he should be at school, he wanted to know how to do the math and make those drawings that maybe his Aunt would stick onto the fridge door. Why wasn't he allowed to go? He hadn't made a mistake in a long while, no burnt breakfast, no streak marks on the mirrors or dust on the high shelves. Maybe he doesn't belong anywhere, it certainly didn't feel like he was meant to be here. He did not have a seat at the dinner table, a plate of food, a bedroom or even a bed. Harry turned from the window and clambered carefully off the stool. He wondered into each of the rooms to ensure he had completed all his tasks and then squinted at the clock. Although unable to tell time, Harry has worked out that everyone returned when the short black line reached the 4 shaped symbol. He huffed a sigh, he had sometime alone left, he squatted down to reach under the sofa and pulled out an old dusty dictionary he had found in the storage cupboard some time ago. Harry bent over the yellowing pages and hesitantly voiced out words.

Harry lay shuddering, clutching his broken ribs gently as he felt them knitting back together, he coughed harshly decorating his ratty blackout with a smattering of blood, which looked black in the dimness of his dank cupboard. He carefully brought up a hand to his nose and skimmed a finger over it. Broken. A sharp jerk of his hands snapped his nose back into place. No tears. Not anymore.

They were forgetting to feed him again. Or they were feeding him a lot less. Harry's stomach growled, angry at being denied food, he hugged himself into a ball as he waited for his family to retire to bed. He must have dozed off as he was awoken by the pounding above him as Dudley jumped on the stairs, "night Freak!" Dudley squealed before stumbling upstairs. Vernon chuckled, "ignore the boy son, let's get to bed." as he too grunted up the steps. Scowling, Harry brushed dust from his hair and held back a sneeze. He waited until only the sound of his uncles snores, his cousins shuffles and his aunts murmurs filled the house, Harry shifted and brought his hand up to hover over the spot where the lock was on the cupboard door. Straining his ears for signs of movement upstairs, he slowly drew his hand sideways along the lock, until the soft plink noise was sounded as the lock slid out-of-place. Pushing on the door gently, Harry stepped out cautiously, stretching his muscles as he crept towards the kitchen.

Bringing his foot down heavily Harry smashed the puppy's skull. "Little shit", he snarled, turning away from the twitching carcass he wiped his shoe on the dewy morning grass before jogging back to the house.

"He's contaminating our home, Vernon!" Petunia whimpered , "the neighbours are starting to…talk". "Now, now petal. We've spoken to them about his abnormalities" Vernon attempted to soothe his wife. "It's been 10 years, they haven't come back for him! Not a letter, not a call, not a visit" She spat. Harry's interest was piqued, "them"? he sat up and leaned against his cupboard. "Vernon. We could leave him on the front doorstep, if anyone does ever come asking questions we can say he ran away!". Mr. Dursley slid his pig eyes over to his wife, who sat perched on the edge of the sofa, and set the glass of whisky on the coffee table. "alright, alright, we'll pack a bag and send him off tomorrow." Petunias dark eyes brightened. "Tomorrow".

Harry scowled on the other side of the cupboard door, thinking hard until the cracking of the fire died out and he dropped into an uncomfortable slumber.

The orphanage was a depressing site. Its halls were grey, the rooms were grey, the children were grey. Harry stepped into he playground and watched the children playing with mud, sticks and stones. He frowned and wandered over to a quiet area under a tree, checking to see if anyone had noticed him yet, they hadn't, he flicked his book to the last page he was on, and settled down to read. He wasn't reading for long before a lumpy ball smacked the side of his head, jolting him enough to cause him to drop his book. Harry's head turned to the side to see a group of boys laughing and pointing towards where he sat. "Oi mate! Pass the ball 'ere! If you know how ta' kick at all!" one of the boys called, still chuckling. Harry calmly stood and strolled over to were the ball had rebounded, he picked it up and turned to the boys, "you mean this one?" he yelled. The 3 boys looked at each other frowning. Harry let go of the ball and as it fell to the ground, he brought his leg back and kicked the ball up and over the orphanage gates into the road. All the children who had stopped to watch the proceedings gasped. A large lorry drove by and a pop was heard as one of the wheels squashed the ball. The boy turned to Harry, who stood with his arms crossed and smirking "oops." they saw him mouth. They glanced at each other and began to chase Harry.

Ever since Jeremy died, the beating started. It seems the head of the orphanage had always been wary of the child with bright green eyes, jet black hair and pale skin, but the whispers and rumours that swum around the house after the death of Jeremy shook him. As did the air of confidence that child had, the eyes that were too knowing for his age and expressions too cynical for a mere child. It seemed those running the orphanage had the shared opinion that all the children had become tainted, so it wasn't unusual for children to leave the staff rooms in tears, nursing their wounds in confusion and fear. What was unusual, was that each time Harry left the room, covered in bruises and welts, not a single tear of his was shed. Combined with his quick healing powers and his refusal to follow any rules the inconvenienced what he wanted to do left Harry as a prime target by the staff. However over the following weeks, an abundance of bad luck seemed to overtake the house, scraped knees, missing valuables and sickness was everywhere. The only person unaffected was Harry, and although the staff attempted to brush it of, the children took notice, going out of their way to be nice to him to be..careful around him. If Harry was happy, the bad things stopped.

Or so they thought.