JULY 31, 1988

It was a dark and stormy night at number 4 Privet Drive. To the average person it would seem that the house was quiet, but they would be wrong to assume. For someone would have to strain to hear the quiet weeping of a small, for his age, malnourished young boy who lying on a small thin mattress. The fact that the mattress was in a cupboard under the stairs would have alarm bells wringing in peoples heads. Had someone called child services to investigate this house they would have discovered the boy lying in an awkward position on the mattress.

If they were to look closer they would see he was trying to ease the pain from his broken arm and broken ribs witch were 'gifted' to him by his obese uncle. The place would soon be swarmed with police and said uncle would soon be spotting a new orange uniform.

Unfortunately the sadistic uncle was smarter than most would initially think. He knew to save his 'special' beatings for the school holidays, no one would be seeing the young lad for a few weeks at the least.

He lay there, weeping silently and unmoving for hours. His uncle had administered this latest punishment for some fictional wrong doing on his part. He was thrown into his cupboard only after he had faked unconsciousness, knowing that his uncle preferred to beat him when he was conscious and could feel his punishment. The house has been quiet for a while now as everyone apart from him was asleep. The pain he was receiving refused to let him sleep though, his uncle having shut the left one with his fist.

He suddenly heard a distant chime. The local church clock had just chimed midnight. Fresh tears flooded down his cheeks even someone with their ear against the outside of his cupboard door wouldn't have heard his whispered singing.

"Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday dear Harry, Happy Birthday to me."

What this young boy didn't know was that he was being watched.

-0o0o0-

Death gazed at the image of his chosen protruding from his pensive sitting on his desk with a sad and frustrated look. Death was sad because his chosen was in such an awful place. Death was angry with the one who deliberately put him there. Death had laid out a carefully thought out plan. Harry was not to grow up like this. Harry was supposed to grow up in a loving environment growing up making friends and learning about the magical history of the world.

He was supposed to go to Hogwarts confident, brave, smart, noble and selfless. He was supposed to meet his soul mate at the sorting. He was supposed to meet his best friend, which death had planted, on the Hogwarts express. He was supposed to meet his lifetime familiar at the age of ten. He was supposed to gather the hallows and become his chosen master. He was supposed to learn from his friend and together they would defeat Voldemort and bring the magical world into an era were muggle borns and magical creatures are treated fairly and equally.

But know harry was growing up unloved and malnourished. Death had made sure that when his chosen was born he would have twice as much magic as Merlin himself, so that he would be able to learn from the friend that he had picked and be able to become the most powerful leader of the light that was ever known. But now he had severe blocks on his magic that limited him to only being able to access 1% of his full magic capacity. How he was surviving with such low reserves of magic was something that not even death could figure out. If this continued he would be only a slightly above average wizard.

At the rate that this was going harry would succumb to the manipulations put on him by Albus Dumbledore. At this rate he would go to Hogwarts weak and pliable. He would not meet the one he was destined to be with and his friend would not meet him until it is to late. His familiar would never make it to him being captured and sealed away by Albus Dumbledore. He would go on with life never knowing of his true inheritance, some of it being stolen from him without his knowing. He would go on to be a sacrificial lamb made by Dumbledore so that he will be able to defeat Voldemort himself.

And if harry by some miracle didn't succumb to his manipulations then he would become dark. Having not been shown any love or friendship his entire life, Harry would go to Hogwarts with pure evil corrupting his heart. He would have a hate for everyone. He would go through school learning some of the darkest of the dark arts. He would then go on to becoming the next dark lord. Only he will make Voldemort look like an angry kitten.

Death could not let this continue on any longer. He was going to have to do something he hasn't done since he created the hollows, he was going to intervene! If he acted now his plans for the future could still be saved. He was going to have to do some manipulations of his own where his chosen would meet his most faithful friends a few years early. He might as well grant him a few extra powers as well. This child who was the champion of the light needed to be shown love and friendship before the flickering flame within him died forever, or darkness would rule for a millennium.

He would receive the first of four tonight, to wait any longer would be sheer folly. With his decision made, death plucked a feather from his wings. It was a short white feather. But what was special about this feather was that its texture made it looks like it was aflame. It was a phoenix feather! Death put the feather in his palm. He closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later the feather started to float until the calamus (quill) was pointed at his palm. White flames soon engulfed the feather growing bigger and brighter with each passing second. A moment later the flames died down, revealing a beautiful pure white phoenix.

The bird looked up at her creator wondering what her new purpose was. Like most phoenixes, death creates them with a specific purpose. Some phoenixes choose to mate with each other and have little chicks.

But only once before has death created another white phoenix, and that was for the last true leader of the light, Merlin.

Death turned his hand so that the phoenix was looking at the image of Harry.

"My dear I want you to go to this young boy here and bond yourself to him. He is my chosen and he needs to be loved or else the world as we know it may be doomed. I think that you will be able to help him stay on the path of the light." Death said softly.

The phoenix looked at the boy and nodded her head that she understood. With that the white phoenix flew into the air and flamed away from Death and to her new master/friend. Death looked at the image of Harry again, knowing that once the phoenix has bonded herself to Harry, he will always be protected. With a phoenix as his friend he will most likely never stray far from the path of the light. Death hoped that with her arrival that little flickering flame of hope that harry has will turn into a raging inferno that will never be put out.

-0o0o0-