Authors note: I do not own Harry Potter. Further notes at the bottom of this chapter

The dust fell harshly upon his face, irritating his eyes enough to force them open. The grating sound of his cousin screeching dragging him into the realm of the awake. But what made him jump into a sitting position, what made him shiver more in the cold and damp, was the deafening boom against the door.

Again and again and again it came, each time causing white flashes to echo through his mind, reverberating through his entire body. Subtle twitches the symptom of such vicious attacks to both the wood of the door, and to his own senses.

"Who's there?!" cried a booming voice from behind him. His uncle's meaty hands cradling a long barrelled gun in both hands, Aunt cowering behind his much larger form.

Finally the door could take no more, and it collapsed to the floor, rattling as it did. The figure struck an intimidating posture as lightning flashed behind it. It took a few booming steps forward and his form could now be more easily seen.

"Sorry abou' tha'", came a surprisingly gentle voice for a man of such stature. "I'll just fix that righ' up."

The door was being put back upon its hinges, as the other large man in the building raised the gun at the intruder. A faint smell of ammonia wafted into the air, and the smallest person there wrinkled their nose at the odour.

"So you must be Harry," the man asked the other child who was frozen in place. The child rapidly shook his head, slowly pointing his had at the now cowering boy who was trying his hardest to look as small as possible.

So caught up in his fear at the situation, the now named Harry could only look on in fright as the large man bent his uncle's gun into half the size it was originally. Words were spoken and shouted but the zoned out boy only responded with a silent squeak when the man put a large paw of a hand upon his head.

"Well I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts".

Hagrid was not an easy man to rule up. Too trusting of a persons nature, too easy-going in his approach to life. When he agreed to come see what was going on with young Harry Potter, he jumped at the chance. He was not expecting to see such a sight as the one he was looking at.

Broken glasses sat on a hollow face, where once vibrant green eyes were seen on another Potter, only red, shining, fearful eyes shined underneath the cracked glass. Coal black hair blew every which way, remaining unsettled in any form upon his head. He was stick thin, looking as if he couldn't even support his own weight, and he was tiny. So much smaller than any 11 year old he had ever seen. A faint hint of a large bruise crept up his collar towards his neck, and he was leaning on his right leg, as if there was something stopping him from standing straight.

"I'm... Harry Potter". It was a whisper, but Hagrid heard it as if it was thunder.

Harry had no idea what was happening. Out of nowhere this large, giant of a man had appeared out of a dream and was telling him all these different things. That his parents did love him! That they didn't die drunk and in some car crash. And that he was a wizard! Magic was real!

Harry sat in wonder, all thoughts forgotten as he basked in this new information. Hagrid showed him magic, not that he needed much convincing. And some harsh words and threats of violence later, his cousin Dudley was now sporting a winding pigs tail, his Aunt Petunia was catatonic on the floor, and he was trying cake for the first time in his life. So much was happening at once that he was getting overwhelmed. This Hagrid was the kindest person he had ever known, and he'd only been in his life less than half an hour.

Tears unwillingly slid down his cheeks as a small smile crept up his lips. The icing lingered on his tongue as the weight of the confection was still felt in his mouth.

"Get some sleep little harry. A big day tomorrah."

"What is happening tomorrow mister Hagrid?" Harry asked in a soft voice, a little louder than he had spoken before.

The man's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Got to get your school supplies from tha' alley. Can' have ya goin' to Hogwarts bare can we?" His face scrunched up in thought. "It's a bi' late now but remind me to give you ya letter when it's gotten light ou'."

As if like magic , Harry smiled a little at that thought, Hagrid was on the sofa, blanket around him and softly snoring. He barely took notice of the whimpers coming from the top floor of the shack as the excitement hit him all at once. A stray thought travelled to his already exhausted mind. 'This was a good dream'. Harry Potter fell asleep with a smile for the first time, and dreams of magic followed.

When he awoke he almost began hyperventilating. The events of last night still fresh in his mind as he tried to fully comprehend what exactly had happened to his life.

After a quick breakfast, which Harry enjoyed with sweet tears, Hagrid was whisking him away to a day away from the cursed one he just existed in.

The journey was long and Hagrid laughed and joked, warming Harry up to him slowly. Some people exude a simplicity and honesty to them, of which Hagrid was one of these. It already endeared him to the Potter, and while Hagrid could see that Harry was wary, someone of Harry's observational skills could clearly see that Hagrid was a simple soul.

It had come with the life he had led. In order to reduce the potential ill that would afflict his days, Harry had learnt early on how to read people. Especially the behaviour of those bigger and stronger than him. Just thinking about it caused his leg to twinge and the soreness of his arm to irritate him. The prices he had paid for his failures, with the most recent being the brown and yellow bruise covering his upper arm and torso. At least this time he could do more than simply hold the letter, identical to the one he was shakily opening in his hands.

Harry's voice was soft, quiet in volume, but Hagrid could hear the pleasing tone clearly. "This seems like a dream." Hagrid's frown went unnoticed, his anger at the boys muggle relatives and what the aunt and uncle had said to him still floated in his head. "Where would I even start with this? A wand? A cauldron?" He was panicking again and it took a calming pat on the head once more to bring him back to reality.

'Professor Dumbledore needs to hear about this,' he thought to himself. Harry Potter was the darling of the Wizarding World, but this boy was broken, or as close to it as could be.

"Well, Just Harry," a shy grin was his response, definitely a good sign at least. "Tha's where I come in. Got ta take ya to Diagon; show ya the ropes an' all."

'The ropes' began with a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, and the first time in a long time that Hagrid had been angry in a long time.

It began well enough, Harry was wary of the half full establishment, but kept his attention on Hagrid the whole time in an attempt to calm the jittery feeling he was getting. Then it all fell apart and Harry felt himself getting torn apart from the inside at the crowd swarming him. Their faces a blur of motion, their voices a cacophony of one foul note permeating into his body.

When Hagrid had steered him into fresh air in front of a brick wall, he had Harry leaning on it as his breathing was slowly beginning to calm and his frustrated tears were finally breaking out of his eyes.

Hagrid didn't quite know what to say to help his young charge, but remembering the awe on the boys face as he witnessed the transfiguration on his cousin, as well as the automated row boat that brought them back to land, an idea popped swiftly into his head.

"Welcome Harry, to a world of magic". The beaming smile that was plastered on his face stopped Harry in his tracks, but it was the slowly opening wall that drew his attention. There in front of him was something that stopped the breath in his throat, as wonder overtook him.

The street was filled with oddly dressed people, as their voices carried over strange smells an background noise that caused him to simply stare at the beauty of it all. This was something that his family had tried to stamp out of his life. No matter what he did is was never good enough; any perceived slight to their normality was always punished, but it was the concept of anything magical that gained the most torment.

This was something wondrous and beautiful that he could never ignore. His eyes closed while he held onto Hagrids large sleeve as he was guided through the throng of people. He could feel the electricity of magic in the air. His skin tingled as it washed over him.

Their journey ended at the bottom of the street, as a large marble building took up his view. He took Hagrids warning to heart as he timidly saw his first goblin sneering evilly at him. It was only the large hand guiding him that stopped him from running away from the belly of the beast.

He was shaking slightly as Hagrid and the bank teller spoke, afraid that this was some sick joke he imagined the Dursley's playing on him.

"Your key", the goblin uttered as it echoed through the caves. Harry, who had since been given his vault key, gave it to the goblin, Griphook if he remembered correctly, who proceeded to open a doorway to more wealth than Harry Potter could have ever dreamed of. He was still in shock when he was gently guided back out into the street, forgoing the memory of the twisted cart ride back to the surface world. If was getting to be a bit much.

However, the concept of learning to do magic, and away from the Dursleys for most of the year no less, quickly brought his mind back into the real world.

Hagrid was not a fountain of knowledge, but the shopkeepers were plenty helpful to his endeavour. He worked constantly with plants, and hearing that there was a magical lesson dedicated to it lifted his spirits more. He was good with flora, and he was good a cooking. Their attempts to be better than their neighbours had him learn all manner of dishes to perfection, and potions, a magic in of itself, also drew him in. He was amusing the potioneers with his shy inquests to what each ingredient did, and to what potion could be made with what.

This was his future, and Harry was already in love with it. He wanted to immerse himself in every little thing, and remove the taint of 'normality' that had been struck upon him for most of his life. Magic was beauty, it was amazing, and he willingly let it take him over.

Hagrid said to him that he should really stick with he requested school books, but he bought over twice the number, to the amusement of the teller. He most likely assumed the small black haired child to be a muggleborn child new to the world of magic, and while close to the truth, the idea was almost spot on. Harry needed to know everything.

He was already shaking with excitement , and Hagrid held his tongue from his own opinion as he saw the natural smile on Harry's face. He was too immersed that he had forgotten all that was wrong from before. Eventually, Hagrid dragged him gently into a shop full of different animals, and had to once again calm him down, this time with his very first ice cream from Fortescue's so as to stem the flow of tears.

He was tentatively stroking the beautiful white plumage of the Snowy Owl that was his first ever birthday present as he slowly ate his ice cream. All the while Hagrid was thinking to himself as he resolved that the boy he had known for less than a day needed him. He had a kind soul, he could see that, that reminded him of another Potter he knew years ago. Although Lily was more outspoken and fiery, this new Potter still reminded him so much of the lovely girl who was always kind to him, even when her peers were not.

Harry was gently probing Hagrid for information about the school and he learnt more and more about exactly it entailed. Lessons in options, herbology, transfiguration and more, and it all sounded gradually more like a fantasy. Not for the first time that day had he subtly pinched himself to check it wasn't a dream, and was, in fact, actually real. However, Hagrid could only tell him so much, and Harry once again was alerted to the man's seeming lack of knowledge of the education system. 'I'll find it all out for myself when I get there', he mused, the butterflies in his stomach calming down when Hagrid tells him that he'll be in the same boat as everyone else regarding the knowledge of new starters.

"Las' thing ya need is a wand Harry", Hagrid said with a little bit of excitement. "Can't very well do magic without one can ya?"

They entered Ollivander's Wand shop with trepidation. Hagrid's was his anxiety from losing the right to wield a Wand many years ago, and Harry was simply afraid that a wand would not work with him and the joy he was feeling would dry up as quickly as it came.

"I was wondering when I'd be seeing you Mister Potter."

The voice came out of nowhere, and Harry made a noise between a screech and a yelp, unknowingly startling a completely unflappable Garrick Ollivander.

The crash that came from Hagrid's vicinity was practically ignored by the other two, even when his apologies were waved off by a disinterested Wand Maker.

"A wand is what chooses the Wizard, Mister Potter. I remember every wand I've ever sold. We just need to see which one will be suited for you."

They were at it for what seemed like hours. The light outside grew dim as wand after wand was waved and thrown aside. Harry grew more and more nervous as each attempt was cast off as inconsequential.

"Do not fret Mister Potter, do not fret", he exclaimed with barely restrained glee. "I just do love the tricky customers!"

Hagrid had fallen asleep in his chair, the shops were closing outside, and a few customers had been apologetically asked to return the next day.

It almost felt as if every wand in the building had been thrust into his hand. Woods and lengths, Phoenix feather, Dragon heartstring, and Unicorn hair. It all sounded magical just hearing about it. But then Olivander had tutted after a Phoenix feather wand he had held so tentatively didn't even shoot out a single spark, and what seemed like a random assortment of cores were being named as opposed to those common three.

It was when a soft toned, light brown simple looking wand was placed into his hand that a warmth began to spread throughout his whole being. He felt, complete, of the word was applicable here.

"Well, Mister Potter, you surprise me even more than you already have".

Harry twitched slightly, before looking reservedly at the older man. "What do you mean Mister Ollivander?"

The soft, airy tone was matched and increased with the wonder of the wandmaker at the wand. He gently took the item from Harry and began boxing it up for him. "A rather long wand, 13 inches long, flexible, but not one that I myself have made. Unfortunately we exceeded most of those during your time here." He casually waved to the piles of wood, slightly grinning at Harry as he did so, who sent a nervous grin back. "No, this one was made by another Ollivander many years before my own craft begun. An emulation I believe. Cypress wood with Thestral tail hair. A powerful core, but incredibly difficult to manipulate to a functional quality. He tried hard to replicate this feat but never could, and though many have tried, it remains unique."

Harry handed over the required 7 galleons, unsure as to how he felt at having such a special wand as his own. "Why is that?" his cheeks grew red as he spoke, a slight quiver in his speech. He thought he liked this man. He was honest, like Hagrid, but had an otherworldly feel to him, and an intelligence that was obvious. His very being drew a calm aura to him, as if magic caressed him, and Harry sensed it even if he did not quite know what it was.

"It is an unpredictable core, I believe my ancestor stumbled upon it by accident and though he tried, could never make another of it's like. Though my family have created many powerful wands, each one that is unique has led to a unique witch or wizard Mister Potter. Basilisk horn, Hydra heartstring, Leviathan scale... each one has developed into someone unique. Maybe not famous. Maybe not powerful, but definitely unique." He paused, silent as he visibly warred with himself. Harry looked on with bated breath. "Cypress is a unique wand make too Mister Potter. One with which I take good note of." His eyes turned sad as he nodded near imperceptibly in farewell.

Harry gently shook Hagrid awake and they walked out into a deserted Diagon Alley towards a hot meal in the Leaky Cauldron. It was here that Harry told Hagrid of his experience with the wandmaker, and here he learned of his history and his fame, and finally, after 10 long years, he learned of his parents and their sacrifice.

He grew quiet for the rest of the evening, and it was a short time later when he stood outside his front door at Privet Drive. Hagrid had looked close to tears when he left him, giving him a half hug when Harry noticeably flinched when Hagrid went for a full one.

Harry was scared of the rest of the summer. He didn't want to be here. Would it be worse now? Or would they be so afraid that they would leave him be? He did not know, but what he did, was that he had freedom coming for him. A small, gentle smile graced his face as he prepared himself for the potential unleashing of hell.

Magic had set him free, and as he knocked on the door, the smile stayed on his face as the door opened in front of him, his aunt not speaking as she pointed upstairs, allowing him to drag his trunk full of his things up to his cousins second bedroom.

A/N: So I'm actually back, and happy to be writing once more.

Now HP isn't my favourite series; I actually dislike how the story progresses and ends, but there is an amazing potential for world building, and its flexibility allows for some great fanfiction. Probably why it must be the most popular category for fanfiction.

This story will be what I stick to. I have a plan for how long its going to be, and the plot will be stuck as how I choose it to be. This will not be just a standard rewrite to the series, it will be a what if? And that what if is: What if Harry Potter actually acted like the abused orphan child that he was? The character of Harry Potter really should have been a tragic tale, but Rowling directed her efforts into creating a children's story instead of a truly realistic approach. That's fine for that but this is my take. There will also be some liberties taken, but with realism for how I grade the story. Basically, no OP god level tier Merlin trains him and he's king of Azkaban power level. He will be powerful, but don't expect him to transfigure dragons at age 12 or something.

Anyway, there isn't a set schedule for this but I am back and I hope I actually get to finish this tale.

Stay safe

KhaosOnion