I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI. Updated every Sunday

Freak was awoken by a pounding in his cupboard door. As long as he could remember it had been the exact same. Get up, make breakfast, clean the dishes, weed the gardens, clean the house entirely. Never had the pattern shifted, nor had the autonomy of it all changed. Occasionally a beating was thrown in, but that was rare in his childhood.

Yes, his childhood. No longer could he be considered anything but a man, despite being only 6. His Uncle made certain of that.

He got up, and opened his cupboard door, making his way to the kitchen. The bacon was on, and he beat hurry if he wanted to prevent it from burning. It might give him a few more scraps, but it was far from worth the beating he would receive.

His fat pig of a cousin jumped down the stairs, yelled 'Hi, Freak!' As usual and sat down. He may lack manners and is not yet a spoiled bastard, but he was certainly friendly. Freak wondered how long it would last, children were very impressionable and while for now he helped Freak, it was only a matter of time before he took on his father's likeness.

The bacon was finished by the time Vernon had cambered down the stairs, creaking as he went. As Freak set down the plate for his Uncle, He was smacked across the back of the head. Dazed from the hit, he did not see the kick coming at his stomach. He fell back, and picked himself up, moving towards the dishes.

Once they were finished, Freak was ordered to follow Petunia, and as usual he did so without complaint. He was sat down in a small room, Dudley's toy room. He spotted a broken aero plane, three dusty children's books that Freak planned on sneaking to his cupboard at some point and struck with a missing wheel. It wasn't too filled now, but Freak expected it to be packed by his eighth birthday.

The floor was a rough carpet, and the closet next to him seemed somewhat evil, to his little six year old mind. The walls were a bare white, like the rest of the house, and Vernon, together with Petunia behind him were an intimidating bunch.

"Listen here, Freak. You will be going to school tomorrow, and I've gathered your supplies from the store." At this, he tossed a dark blue backpack at Freak, ripped in places and the zipper for the larger pocket never closed completely.

"Now, I want you to be prepared, and I don't want any questions asked of us, so you better listen closely." At this, Freak immediately shifted his attention to the Fat Man, as he had taken to calling the man in his mind. He told all sorts of stuff , wonders for the closed off child. How he would have a teacher and he had to listen to her as he would have them, and more.

—

Freak listed the rules in his head as he lay down on his bed, preparing for the night.

No Friends

Listen to the Teacher

Do not talk about the Cupboard

Do not talk about House

Most Importantly, DO NOT TALK ABOUT MAGIC.

The last was the most important rule, as always. His Uncle hated when he talked about magic, and he always got the worst beatings when he did so. From his childhood he remembered very little, only a flash of green light and a greasy haired man.

He did not know it now, but no matter how hard he tried, the greasy haired man would leave his memories and the green light was all he would remember, and it disappointed him. He eventually fell asleep, thinking about the man. He seemed quite nice, if not a bit bitter.

—

As Freak got ready for his first day of school, he packed the sparse possessions he had into his pack and got ready. He would be walking to the bus with his cousin, and it was a time he would remember for the rest of his life.

As Freak walked with Dudley, he enjoyed this time. No Vernon or Petunia, only him and his cousin, talking quietly. Dudley confesses he did not want to turn out like his parents, but was scared what they would think of him if he did not. He was scared that they would push him to hurt Freak.

Freak stopped, and stared ahead of him. He knew what he had to do. He grabbed his cousin, who was bewildered at his behavior and looked him in his eyes. He used his vocabulary, which had been expanded from the times he had run off to the library ins exert to read ever since he was four, to make his message as clear as possible.

"Look, Dudley, I know. I know it's hard. I know that you're afraid of what they will think of you. I understand, and I want to tell you this. They are monsters, and one day we will escape them. I promise. For now, we must put up a facade, or a mask. Make it look like we are doing as our roles demand. You see me going along with what they want, yes?" At this, Dudley nodded, determination set in his face.

"You have to follow their example, beat me, hit me, act like a monster, and you must do this always. Even when they are not their, and when t seems they are not looking, or else trouble might come about. Scare off people from being my friend, because it frightens me what they might do to you, should they know otherwise.

"All this, I promise, will lead to a better future, one where we are happy, and they are gone. Once we reach eighteen, we can escape them, and leave. We can be friends, brothers, even, if you want. But to do this, we have to go along for twelve more years. When it happens, we may escape, yeah?" Freak was frightened, frightened that Dudley might not go along with it.

Dudley, on the other hand, listened carefully. He understood it all; and realized he had to be dumb and spoiled in front of his parents, even though he knew Vernon had been like that, and had become an arsehole. Vernon really cursed a lot when he was drunk, which was often.

Dudley, mulling over this decision, mad eien that would change his life. He would do as Freak said, and when they reached eighteen, which his parents told him was a very small number, they would escape as brothers.

And so, Dudley and Freak clasped forearms as they had seen the knights do on television, making the choice. Dudley would never forget this conversation for the rest of his living days, would tell it to his grandchildren and grand nephews and nieces, of how he gained a brother out of a cousin, one he would trust with his life.

The One Born of Darkness Rises

As Their Origin meets Crisis

—

Daphne Greengrass lay in her room, crying. Her visions plagued her once more, of a young boy suffering, forced to be a house-elf. She never knew who he was, could never see what he looked like perfectly, all she knew was that he had dark hair and piercing green eyes.

Suddenly the door slammed open, and her sister was shoved into the room. She went over and held Astoria as she cried, used by her drunk uncle. It was happening more often now, and Daphne could do nothing. Her accidental magic was no match for her uncles protego, after which he would curse her. Lucky she was, that 4 was too young for him, but Apparently 7 was alright.

She spat at his name, and donned her shields, preparing herself. The man was a monster, and as much she tried, she could do nothing. She did not know that in three years, he would be killed by his own stupidity and her sister would be turned back, her body untouched once more and her mind wiped.

But Daphne's shields were too strong, and combined with her accidental magic her mind could never be tampered with. Angry at herself for it, she thanked the Gods that she would never be touched, no matter what the man did.

Her shields frightened him, and he would never come close to her, even if she was older. The stupid contract didn't protect her sister like it was supposed to, and it angered her. How could it do that? How could it leave her sister to suffer, despite the fact it stated that magic would protect the holder?

Unless… no, it was stupid to contemplate. She couldn't be the subject, she was the younger one, magic certainly knew math!

It did, and it also knew the future. It knew the fate, of Astoria, but due to its own laws it could not interfere since Daphne would become subject to the contract, and as such would be the only one to be protected. It had to watch as that wretched man did what he wanted, and it tried its hardest to protect her, but the laws were specific and it couldn't tear those down without the whole of reality falling along with it.

As Atoria fell asleep in her arms, Daphne looked at the girl, crying silently for her plight. There was nothing she could do, and she knew it. Virginity untouched or not, the man was destroying her, and she had no idea what to do, if she could do anything. She wanted desperately to protect her, but there was nothing she could do.

It would eat her up, until eventually her magic reacted so violently to her emotions, a certain apparition was interrupted.

When her parents arrived, she walked up to them, cold mask upon her face as she hugged them.

—

She walked to the living room, where upon a crystal table lied a pocket knife. Her uncle was watching a quidditch game through a newly developed technology, Television Magic, which displayed the image much like those in the newspaper. The knife was right there, on the coffee table, all that she needed to do was bring it to his neck.

Her hand shook, but as she neared him, her hand shook, she broke down and ran to her room, the stairs creaking as she did so.

What was she thinking!? She couldn't murder anyone, could she?

Her hand shook where she held the knife, as she curled under the covers with her sister. He had yet to come, and she had lost her only chance to protect Astoria.

Her cries rang out among the plains of Greengrass Manor, heard by no one.

—-

This was the first time her Uncle had left the Manor, and her sister was suffering for it, as he wanted his needs dealt with before.

When she heard to crack, signaling his disappearance, her anger finally broke. She screamed out to the heavens as a large strike of lightning struck her, and the energy poured off her in waves, knowingly allowing magic to act on her intent to kill the man, to take it and interfere in her uncles apparition.

Energy Built up, but before it was all unleashed she passed out on the floor, the damage repaired by Magic's caring hand, it's weakness for the girl evident.

Her parents arrived home later that night, with news of her uncle's death. When her sister explained why she was laughing, they took her to a man known only as NF. There, he crafted for them a potion, one that could only be made once every thousand years, and that he had only made twice. He had ale rot for them after the story, and his heart gave in, remembering Lord Shadeslayer's words. It's reaction was unique every time, and he refused to say who his previous patron was.

Once Astoria took the potion, she reverted back to her old sixth year body. He warned them it would not touch on memory, so they erased it with a simple spell.

Their Time to Rule shall Come

But First Forces They must Overcome

—-

Draco Malfoy, spoiled brat, lay in contemplation of his future. He was ten now, and never thought much of reading books. He didn't care for those lesser than himself, and intended to be the best friend of Harry Potter. He did not realize that this was a fools game, and would bring about his downfall.

Yet perhaps he stands a chance, all he must do is get away from his Fathers thumb.

When One of Three Becomes Eternal

The Cursed One shall Pass on Mantle

—-

Tell me what you think, I hope I did well. Review plz! These lines seem superficial, but mean far more than you think. Apparently i need to state that, despite being a Prophecy, and thus having far more meaning than one.

"Got to?" said Dumbledore. "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!" - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

In short, they only mean what they are interpreted to mean, I have mine, perhaps you will have yours.