A/N This will hopefully be the first and last author note I place before a new chapter. If I ever use author notes, they'll be at the end, where you as the reader can safely ignore them if you're only interested in the story itself. Anyway… I want to welcome all new readers and ask that you have patience with my bumbling attempts to write something good. I have been reading books since I was 4, which is almost 30 years ago, and have been reading fan fiction and specifically HP fanfics since 2005. In that time, I have read thousands of stories. If there seem to you to be any clichés or ideas you've seen elsewhere, in this story, then I will not apologize. I will simply say that everything I've read has inspired me. And any imitation used here should be regarded as the sincerest form of flattery to those originators of the ideas you may see. I'm writing this story, and any other future ones I may write, attempting to write as the flow comes. I do not intend to "steal" ideas or story beats. It's not like any of us writers are getting paid for this anyway. I welcome any reminders of where those ideas may have originated if you know. If I'm using it without realizing, it's likely I don't remember the original story well enough, and I would love to go back and reread. Also, asking not to be flamed by guest accounts is futile, but I will make a solemn promise to address any substantive critique you may have as readers, as long as you provide me a way to respond to you. I want to be a better writer, and your input as readers is valuable to me. Anyway… That's enough with the prattle and on with the story!

Ch 1. - The little yellow book

In the early morning, in the tiny cupboard under the stairs in the home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, there sat an almost 10-year old boy, though you'd scarcely know that he was that age, due to his short stature, and very thin frame. By appearance alone, you might have guessed that he was 7 or 8 years old, and you'd think that until you looked into his eyes, bright green and possessing the look of a boy used to a hard life and disappointment.

The boy's name was Harry Potter, or "Freak" to his family, which included the aforementioned Vernon (uncle) and Petunia (Aunt), and his cousin Dudley.

This particular morning happened to be the morning of July 24 1990, a week before his tenth birthday, as well as his last day of school. And after many, many years of not knowing what his birth date was, let alone the occasion being celebrated in the Dursley house, Harry had decided something. He decided he would celebrate his own birthday, even if no one else did. 10 years of living with the Dursley family without being crushed to death by sheer size of the whales/males in the house, or by the swinging metal pans of Petunia, surely counted as an achievement worth celebrating, even if not much else in his life was.

Harry decided that after school (where he had no friends due to Dudley's interventions) he would stop by the local library and see if there were any books that he could borrow that would help distract him from his thoughts about his upcoming birthday. He never had much of a chance to go to the library, as Petunia usually demanded he'd be home before Dudley to prepare dinner and do various chores. But since his birthday was next week, he decided to risk it. He wanted some measure of freedom in his life, and if that was by letting his mind escape Privet Drive through a story, then so be it. He was hoping his "family" had forgotten about the events of a month prior, during Dudley's 10th birthday. Harry had accidentally stepped on the paw of Ripper, the frightful dog of Marge (Vernon's sister), after which the dog had chased him into a tree and wouldn't let him come down till past midnight. He was hoping that if he got his chores done quickly enough, he might be able to borrow enough books to last until next week, when he could celebrate by reading in peace and quiet.

As soon as school let out, he quickly dashed out, so as to avoid attracting attention from Dudley and his gang of friends. Unfortunately, he failed. Piers, Dudley's rat-faced friend, noticed Harry's hurried pace and quickly yelled in a reedy voice "Hey Potter! Didn't you want to stay and play with us?! What's your hurry?!"

Knowing very well that by "play" Piers meant "Harry Hunting", Harry broke into a sprint, trying to get far enough ahead that the gang would give up the chase.

Picking a side street off of the school that led in the direction of the library, Harry managed to dodge between the alleys as he was chased by the gang and lost them quickly, or so he thought. Arriving at the library out of breath, he paused to catch it when he heard the distinct sounds of many feet stopping from their run. Looking behind him, he saw Dudley's porky face glaring at him with beady malevolent eyes. "We've got you, Freak!" he squealed hoarsely, and started after him once more. Desperately, Harry ran into the library, through the front doors and right into the area of the library where several families with small children were sitting around in a circle reading a book about green eggs and ham, of all things, from what Harry could tell.

Dudley's gang, seeing Harry close to the groups of loving families reading stories to their toddlers, realized that creating a ruckus at this moment would be more trouble than it's worth, and so decided to leave while giving Harry vicious, leering looks before they left.

Realizing that his erstwhile tormentors were gone, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe, for the moment.

Finally getting a chance to look around the library for the first time, Harry marveled at what he saw. Though unremarkable from the outside, the interior of the library was quite lovely. With the aforementioned children's corner being brightly painted and decorated, and the rest of the library's walls being painted in a light shade of blue, the library seemed light and inviting. Though the rows of books did provide cozy corners for those preferring shady reading areas, there were plenty convenient seats by the windows, that looked very comfortable and well lit.

Putting his school backpack in a chair by the corner, which was currently being lit with the light of the setting sun, Harry walked to peruse the shelves of the children's section. Bypassing the books obviously meant for babies and toddlers, Harry scanned the shelves for something that would grab his attention. A book with a dusty yellow cover with big red letters caught his eye. On the cover was an illustration of a little girl on a pile of books. Deciding that it looked interesting enough, Harry grabbed the book and went to the sunlit corner. Sitting down and getting comfortable, Harry opened to the first page and began to read.

"It's a funny thing about mothers and fathers. Even when their own child is the most disgusting little blister you could ever imagine, they still think that he or she is wonderful"

Based on his experience with Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, Harry had to agree… And on he read…

Little did he know that this day would change the course of his life in monumental ways, and all it took, was a little bit of "books and cleverness".

Author note: To those who may not recognize the book Harry picked up, it is Matilda by Roald Dahl. And when you think about it, Matilda and Harry have quite a lot in common. This story is the result of a story idea that asks, "what if Harry had a role model in his early life that would serve to help him flourish rather shrink"? As a kid living in tough situations, books were my escape, as well as my role models. The characters helped me develop my moral compass, my sense of fairness, and my desire to help others. I imagine Harry might react the same way to Matilda's story, and the universe of possibilities she brings with her.