What if Harry's Aunt and Uncle responded differently to the Hogwarts letter? What if he was kicked out? This is a story about Harry growing up under different influences. He will not be in the same house.

I do not own Harry Potter.

The Worn-out Welcome

Dudley never had to get the mail. He also never had to clean or cook though so Harry wasn't too surprised when his uncle bellowed out for him to get the mail. He wouldn't have minded if the mail was down a really long dirt driveway or something like that but it was four steps away. What a waste of energy to move four steps away and still be able to hear the Dursleys to get a bunch of junk mail.

Still Harry wasn't given a choice so he stood up and walked out of Dudley's smeltingly stick or whatever he had called it. Harry really didn't understand a school that not only tolerated physical attacks on students but encouraged it. Despite Vernon's constant mockery about how nice the school was he was glad he wasn't going there. The mail filled the slit almost completely and took some wiggling to pry it out. Most of it was junk thanks to Dudley's new addiction, computers. Harry had seen him on the computer before and the boy typed in his address to spam like a pro. Do you want a new tomato peeler for free it would ask and Dudley was there telling the spam people all about him.

There was an offer for a hair piece for his uncle. The man wasn't good looking but he had a full head of hair. Three toy magazines for Dudley despite his age, the boy was already eleven and still played with toys. The mail seemed to be straight junk until Harry saw something quite remarkable. There was a letter for him in a yellowed envelope. He never got mail. Harry was certain he knew of no one who even decently liked him except for the cat lady and she was too senile to write.

Vernon made a ridiculous joke about bombs and the mail but Harry wasn't really paying attention. You see it was Harry's birthday. His eleventh birthday and while that didn't seem very important to him at the time this was the first really birthday gift he had ever received.

"Harry's got a letter," Dudley screamed grabbing the mail out of his hands and throwing them in the air one after another reading the recipient. "Why don't I have a letter?" screamed a now bright red ball. Vernon was quick and grabbed the letter out of Harry's hand. As he ripped it open Harry cringed. His uncle had left an uneven tear and Harry was deathly afraid he was going to rip the letter inside the envelope.

"Ha Petunia my precious," Vernon shouted jumping up and hugging his wife. "Today is the day. The day we are rid of him for the rest of our lives. The bloody little freak is gone."

"What, what are you talking about?" Harry asked. "I want my letter. Its mine you have to give it to me." He was worried about his uncle's response and it fueled his curiosity even more. Dudley just stood there dumbfounded.

"Go pack you bloody boy," he said waving the letter in the air like a crazy man. "Are you deaf as well as dumb. Go pack everything you own and do it now. You're going away for a very long time." Harry stared at his uncle in disbelief.

"Go do what he says Harry. I'll go get you a backpack." Petunia said softly as she walked to the stairs. Harry was shocked but did as he was told. He was good at that.

Dudley was being quieted by bribes to get ice cream by the time Petunia came down with the backpack. It was leather and had the initials LP on it. The bag looked too nice to be something that Petunia would give him.

"Here," she said. "I don't have any use for it anyway." She looked distracted not meeting Harry eye to eye.

"Thank you," Harry said rather confused tracing the initials. "Why though. This is a really nice bag."

"Are you saying it's odd for an aunt to spoil her nephew," it wasn't a question. She never gave Harry anything nice at all. "It was your mother's. Horrible drunk, I and she never got along." Petunia paused steeling herself but Harry had seen the tear. "Now that she's dead and you're leaving there is no point in me keeping the damn thing. Why would I want it anyway?" she was focusing on the wallpaper. She chose the wallpaper herself last summer. Harry had put it up. It was a nice pink color.

"I don't understand why this is happening," Harry said. "What's going on, why is everyone acting so odd?" He was starting to panic. He didn't have anywhere else to go. He could hear the TV go on in the background. Dudley had gotten bored.

"Don't worry you'll be fine. I put a few pounds in your bag and you have a bank account," Petunia said. "Although Vernon doesn't know about that so I wouldn't mention it. He will give you your letter when you leave. Read it and it should explain most of it. You're not as stupid as you look. You can figure out the rest."

Harry nodded with a frown on his face and put his clothes in the bag. That was all that he really had. He had never really talked to Petunia so it was weird when she didn't leave.

"You know, I never wanted you right," She said halfway to herself to make her own guilt go away. "Your mother and I never agreed. You should have gone with someone like her."

Harry didn't say anything he just kept packing. Petunia was looking straight past him and it unnerved him.

"I don't understand why you came to me. She had a lot of friends that would have taken you. I've seen some of them myself. Nice people for her type of people."

"Why do you hate my mother?" Harry asked sitting straight up looking at her in defiance.

"You know you have Lily's eyes," she said in a dreamy voice. Harry knew she didn't mean to but Petunia had just given him two valuable pieces of his mother, her bag and her eyes. "I don't hate… I didn't hate your mother. I hate him. The same bastard that left you here almost ten years ago." She paused with a look of disgust on her face. "He just doesn't understand that muggleborns have no place with their family once they leave. Lily died to me a decade before you were ever born. I've mourned her and then he had to give me you only to be ripped apart again."

Harry had no clue what she was ranting about but didn't question. "I could have loved you," Petunia said shocking Harry. "I could have cared for you like a son but I always knew this day would come. If you want someone to blame then blame him. If you don't then at least don't trust him. He thinks people are like chess pieces and in my opinion he is why your mom died."

"Who is it?" Harry asked almost too shocked at what his aunt had said to ask. She had never talked about his mom before.

"His name is Dumbledore," She said. And with that his aunt left. She would never again speak of a little boy named Harry Potter. Her sister had no children. She had died tragically in a car accident when she was eleven.

It wasn't cold outside. His uncle had given him the letter once he left the house but he waited till he was out of view of the house to read it. Not that he was afraid that his uncle would snatch back the letter and laugh, he just didn't want to give himself the opportunity to look back.

He never looked back. Not even when he reached the edge of the neighborhood or when he waited on the trolley. London seemed so far away when he was younger. An exotic and wonderful place that only Dudley got to visit but now it was pathetically close. He could have left any time he wanted. He hadn't realized that. He had followed his instructions given by his aunt. In downtown London there was a bar with a hotel on top that only his kind could see. He had imagined it with white snow on its roof even though it was summer. It didn't have snow on it.

It didn't look magical at all. The pub had a scrabbing look to it but Harry went towards it anyway. When he noticed everyone's clothes he felt isolated but no one made any comments as he walked towards the bar. A shaggy man who was missing a front tooth was cleaning glasses sitting at the bar. He scared Harry with his lazy eye. Petunia told him how some of his kind didn't like muggleborns. He wasn't one but he knew about as much as one.

He backed away from the man and into another boy. Harry stared at the boy for a while. He was wearing nice looking wizard clothes and had an annoyed look on his face. "Bloody muggleborn," he sneered. "Get out of my way."

"Hey," Harry said angered by his assumption. "My parents were not muggles." He stood up looking defensive. He didn't know his parents but he did know they weren't like his aunt and uncle.

"Oh really," the boy said. "Then why are dressed like one. Do you even know what a muggle is?" He was so sure of himself as he talked. He acted like he knew who Harry was. Like he knew Harry was like his cousin. Harry was nothing like his cousin and he wanted to prove it.

"Yes. They are parasitic humans. Bleeding their host dry and beating every inch of personality out of each other," he muttered almost too softly for him to hear. "I know what muggles are. They don't have magic like we do. I know, I lived with them."

The boy was amused at this answer. He let a smile touch his lips. He had heard the anger in Harry's voice. Harry wanted to hit him but he didn't and it wasn't because he was afraid. "If your parents are magical why would you live with muggles?" he asked. He acted like he knew the answers and it pissed Harry off. Harry wanted to know all the answers.

"My parents are dead," He said. He never really wanted to believe that but he knew it was true.

"Oh," he said. He wasn't really interested. "How horrible." He didn't really care if it was horrible. "You know it's really sad when they put pureblood orphans in muggle orphanages." He was wrong Harry never was in an orphanage. "I'm going to buy my Hogwarts things today. My father is taking me," he said pausing for a moment. "Maybe you would like to go along?" He wasn't mocking Harry and he knew it.

"That would be great. I'm not really sure what to do," Harry said his eyes a little wide.

"I'm sure. How horrible. Having to live with muggles," the boy shivered. "I'd hang myself." He was waiting for Harry to agree.
"It was horrible," Harry said. He wasn't lying. He hated the Dursleys and most of the people in the neighborhood were just as obsessively normal. It was disgusting and this boy had spoke to him.

"My name is Theodore Nott," He said smiling and holding out his hand.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter," Harry said. He took his hand missing the look of shock on Theodore's face. Theodore stepped back with a disgusted look. Harry's shoulders sunk feeling rejected.

"They put Harry Potter with muggles," Theodore exclaimed loudly. "Why the damn would they do that."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "Why is it important for me not to be with muggles?" He asked softly.

"Because you bloody Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived," Theodore said. "Dark lord slayer extraordinaire golden boy." Another thing that Theodore knew that he didn't.

"What are you talking about," Harry said. "I'm just Harry." He was confused but Theodore jumped closer to him and moved his hair off of his forehead. He was looking at his scar. Harry knew it was a weird looking scar but Theodore was being odd. Harry wondered if all wizards were like this.

"You don't know do you," He said. "Wait till dad hears this."

"Wait a second," Harry said starting to get relatively concerned. "What don't I know?"

"That you're a bloody murder," Theodore said. Harry backed off a bit. "You killed the Dark Lord when you were one. He came to your house because your mom and dad had attacked him and his supporters so much. He offed them then you killed him."

"What?" Harry looked around at the pub looking at people trying to see if they saw him or a murder. "I don't even know who the Dark Lord is." He was concerned and Theodore knew it.

"He was a great man. A man who understood that muggles were parasites," he said. He smiled and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on. I don't blame you. You were too young to know." Harry believed him because he wanted to. "Let go get my father."

His father was old and was interrupted by his son. Harry's uncle would have slapped him for that but Theodore's father didn't. He was friendly but Harry only knew half of what he was saying. It was too noisy with his thoughts. He was overwhelmed but he shaked his hand and was polite. He barely noticed as they left the pub and walked into the alley but as soon as the bricks moved away Harry was awed back into reality. Unknown to Harry Mr. Nott was watching his amazement.