Disclaimer: I don't make money off of this story. I don't own Harry Potter and Co. I just like to play with them.
Story Warnings: Language, Torture later, mentions of rape, OOC (I will try to make it as close as I can), spelling and grammar (my profound apologies), and that's all I can think of right now. Subject to change later.
Chapter Warnings: Language, mentions of rape
Chapter One: The Birthday
Everything seemed normal on Privet Drive. Normalcy was what everyone strived for on the quaint little lane. The houses all looked the same, only varying in colors. The lawns and gardens were all immaculate, not a luscious green blade of grass or a dew-covered leaf out of place. Yes, sickeningly normal was located on Privet Drive.
Except for a smaller-than-average young man of 16 sitting alone on the swings in the Magnolia Crescent Park. He had on a shirt with a few holes in it, and jeans that swallowed him whole. He was bespectacled; think black glasses with tape around the bridge nose piece, as his cousin punched him in the face earlier and broke them…again.
The young man's name was Harry Potter.
He wasn't welcomed on Privet Drive, lived there but wasn't welcomed. He was a wizard, and a very special one too. A prophecy was made before he was born that he would have the power to vanquish Lord Voldemort, an evil self-proclaimed Dark Lord that was threatening the Wizarding World. Harry was an amazing young man in their world, but he was stuck, healing his wounds inflicted on himself by his relatives.
He snorted, No family would beat each other…
Harry attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he had been on summer vacation from for a month, a very cruel month so far. His uncle, Vernon Dursley, and his cousin, Dudley Dursley, were more brutal towards him now that Professor Dumbledore had died. That was Harry's last line of defense to having a somewhat decent summer.
Harry looked out into the horizon, the grayish light of predawn was steadily becoming brighter. He sighed, got up, and headed back to his "normal" house.
He thought about many things as he walked. About Cedric, one of many who still plagued his dreams; Sirius, who he still felt very guilty over; his parents, that last moment when Lord Voldemort killed them for he couldn't remember anything before then. The green light was ingrained into his memory that he wasn't likely to forget that moment. He thought about his friends- Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger- and his other family, mainly the Weasley family and the members of the Order of the Phoenix. He thought about his birthday coming up in a week. He'd finally be 17, allowed to do magic, and leave the damned Dursley's forever.
He had no idea where he'd live from now on, but it was better to live on the streets than to live in that abusive house.
He arrived at said house just as the pinks of the rising sun started to blend beautifully with the dimming grays of the night sky. He slowly entered the backdoor, and locked it back as softly as he could. Sighing, he started the laundry, then started breakfast, and set the table for the Dursley's breakfast. He heard the dying groan of his uncle's bed and they all came downstairs as Harry put the food on table. He was required to stand and watch them eat, as he would only get scraps, or the majority of the time, nothing at all. It was a "nothing at all" morning. Uncle Vernon went to work at his failing drill business, Grunnings. Of course, if he'd stop having an affair with his secretary, and actually paid attention to what was going on, he'd know it was failing.
His Aunt, Petunia Dursley, went off to go shopping, and Dudley probably went to go bully some ten year old kid who really didn't have a chance of escaping. Harry finished the laundry, folded, and put away everything. He washed the dishes and put them up as well. By the time Harry mowed both yards, and pruned the weeds out of both flowerbeds and the garden, it was a little past one o'clock in the afternoon. He cleaned off the tools and put everything back inside the shed. He took off his shoes and went upstairs, ate a few chocolate frogs that Ron had given him at the end of term. It wasn't the most nutritious meal, but it did put something he liked in his stomach so he wasn't extremely starved. Miraculously, he finished all of his chores before his uncle came home. He finished making dinner and was sent to his room with two biscuits and a small glass of water.
The days continued like this until it was finally his 17th birthday, July 31st.
He stayed up till midnight, as always. Before, it was because he wanted to, now, it was because every time he went to sleep, Cedric, Sirius, his parents; James and Lily Potter, and a pair of evil red eyes belonging to Lord Voldemort, all invaded his dreams. When he did sleep, dreams started, then they'd melt into torturing of men and children and brutal rapes of women that the Death Eaters- Lord Voldemort's followers- enjoyed. He would wake up screaming. His uncle would barge in like a big red whale and thrash him for waking up his "normal" family.
He looked at his now fixed watch. The green numbers flashed '12:00' and his alarm beeped. Sure enough, he looked outside and he noticed seven owls, not the usual three, including his own snowy white owl, Hedwig. She usually carried Ron's or Hermione's present. This time she carried Hermione's. A little ball of fluff, named Pigwidgeon, that knocked into Harry's head carried the Weasley's parcel. Then there was the dreaded Ministry letter and owl, along with a Gringotts' and Hogwarts' one. The owls, except Pig, perched on his dresser and on his bed. Pig kept zooming around the room, twittering loudly. He was a cute owl, but annoying!
"Damn bird. Shut up, will you?" Harry asked the bird, fully aware that the bird couldn't understand him. He looked at the bird and thought, I wish I could Stupefy him… and the next second, a bolt of red light came from the palm of his hand and stunned the poor bird.
Damn…
He received chocolate frogs from Ron, mince meat pies from Mrs. Weasley, a bag of new tricks from Gred and Forge. ('We tested them on our loving brother, Ronald, but unfortunately he's still blue. We think we fixed them…if not? Oh well, right?') Harry snickered at a tall, gangly, blue-bodied, red-haired Ron and how mad me must be. A fang of a snake on a necklace from Ginny was the last of the Weasley presents. Hermione's present was a book about past wars and a book about the Dark Arts. ('You cannot beat them if you do not know what they are using.') Ah, the always logical Hermione, the fuzzy-haired, yet brilliant witch.
Harry's honorary godfather, Remus Lupin, sent something as well, and the card said 'Remus and Tonks'. She must've finally convinced him… , Harry thought. From them, Harry received a map that the Marauders had found their third year from Filch's office. It was similar to the Marauders Map, in that it moved and showed where people were, but it was much bigger. It showed Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade, but limited to the people that the new owner knew, good or bad. Green was an ally, red was an enemy, and black was indifferent. On the card, Remus explained how to work the map and such. Harry was to put a drop of blood on the center and make a password for the map. Harry did so and chose 'Lily Flower' in parseltongue as the password. The map was called 'Raven's map'.
He was so enraptured in the map that he forgot about the other letters till an owl hooted.
Harry grabbed the remaining box and letters and started to open them. He opened the one from Hogwarts first.
Mr. Potter,
I have taken the liberty of enclosing your book list as you passed your exams. While this may seem like an official letter, I assure you, it is not. Kindly do not mention that you have received your list before Miss Granger, as I am not willing to hear her complaints. I do wish you a Happy Birthday, and a congratulations on becoming an strapping young man. Also enclosed is a necklace your mother gave to me. It is a portkey to my office; the password is Gryffindor. I should have given it to you a long time ago, and I have no reasons to explain why I did not. Selfishness maybe, as Albus returned your father's invisibility cloak. I do wish you would forgive me in that regard.
I sent along Hagrid's rock cakes as well. I apologize for them as well. Madam Pomfrey had to fix my tooth the other day. Alas, I digress.
Happy Birthday and please stay out of trouble.
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School
Harry chuckled and decided not to tell Hermione for fear of the Armageddon. Next, he opened the Ministry's letter. It basically said the same thing…congratulations on becoming an adult in the Wizarding World's eyes. It specified dates to take the apparation test, and said that he just had to show up. Harry turned his eyes of the Gringotts' letter and opened it slowly.
Lord Potter,
As you are now of proper age, you have inherited the Potter accounts, the Black accounts, willed by the late Lord Sirius Orion Black, and a portion of the Dumbledore accounts, willed by the late Headmaster and Lord Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Please write back for a time that is good for you to come in, as we have much to discuss.
May your gold be plentiful,
Griphook
Inheritance Office and Overseer of the Potter Fortune
Harry reread the letter before he wrote back and sent it off with the Gringotts's owl saying he could come in in two days. He laid down on his back and thought about Dumbledore. As much as the Headmaster didn't tell him things that he needed to know, he couldn't help but feeling a huge hole in his heart. Dumbledore was like a grandfather to Harry. He kept replaying what happened in the tower over and over again. He wiped away his tears and sent out thank you notes to everyone. Ron's and Hermione's were a bit longer as he included the stupefying incident with his hand and see if they had any opinions about it, along with his apologies for stupefying the owl to Ron. He hid the presents they gave then looked around and noticed the box again.
Harry moved on to the box. He had saved it for last. He untied the twine and lifted the lid. It contained some letters. The one on top was labeled '0' and looked to be the oldest one. Each letter was aged a little less than the one before it, with '0' being the oldest looking one. Apparently, it was a time-delay box sent to him when he turned 17.
He picked up the first one and read:
July 31, 1980
To My Son Harry,
You were born today. A lousy way to start this project of mine to send you a letter every year on your birthday but you're finally here.
Nine months of Lily's awful cravings of pickles and ice cream (together!), and her mood swings that made even Sirius cry when she got onto him, but you're finally here and it was worth spending a week in St. Mungo's because she cursed me for over-frying her pickles. You were this tiny, gunk-covered, red thing. You were so quiet though that we thought you were a stillborn till you opened your beautiful eyes up at me. You grabbed my finger and started to suck on it gently. We had this moment…till Lily hit me and demanded to see you. Sirius and Remus, whom I hope you know now, were silently crying. Sirius is a big pushover, despite his tough guy front. Lupin is always the calm one, but I guess this is even too big for him to stay calm. They both begged to hold you, but Lily was possessive. Motherly instincts, my arse. She's a fiery person and protective. They did eventually get to hold you once Sirius slipped a sleeping draught in her drink. Gods, she was so mad when she woke up.
You were so tiny; I'm so scared that I'll break you. Your beautiful dusting of black hair on your head; your sparkling green eyes; ten fingers and ten toes, all perfect.
You are my perfect, beautiful son.
My Harry.
Signed,
Your Father
Harry laughed and cried. He missed his dad so much, but he had long died, murdered by Lord Voldemort. Suddenly, the box shimmered and a new letter popped in.
My dad is dead. How can a new letter pop in? Maybe my dad survived and is doing undercover work for the Order or something…yes, that's it. This is how he gets in touch with me. Oh, dad! I hope I can meet you… thought Harry, a little delusional. He picked up the next letter and started to read before he heard his alarm clock go off. 6:00 am. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia should be getting up in the next few minutes and he would saunter out the front door and leave to Grimmauld Place. He would stay there as he rebuilt Godric's Hollow.
Time to leave… Harry thought.
He rushed to pack everything he owned, forgetting about magic in his excitement. He left Dudley's clothes. Soon everything was packed and he was heading down the stairs and stopped at the front door.
"Goodbye." Harry said politely.
"Oh, no you don't." Uncle Vernon yelled. Harry whipped out his wand quickly and shoved it into Vernon's many chins.
"Don't I? You have made my life a living hell. Beating me. Starving me. Tying me down and whipping me." Petunia gasped. "Oh yes, you weren't there for that were you. You weren't there while he was fucking his secretary, either." Vernon turned pale. "I'm leaving forever, you sick, twisted sack of shit." Harry said in a menacing voice. He walked out the door, slamming it, and heard Petunia's screams and cries about an unloving husband.
-----Far away in a secluded cottage, and accompanied by Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape wondered if his son got the letter for his birthday.
A/N:I have no idea how long this will be. The plot just kept bothering me. If anyone's story is similar to mine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm. I just wrote it for the fun of it. Thank you. Review! (But keep in mind, I'm not the best writer, and I do not have a beta. Email me or write a review if you have an interest in becoming a beta. Thanks.)