Chances Are Keeperoliver Chapter One

The home at #4 Privot Drive was one of the best kept homes on the block, but the neighbors never saw the family out doing anything to it. It was always the boy they had living with them doing the work. Nothing was ever said about it though, so it continued on.

Another thing never mentioned was the fact that the boy was a meer 5 years old and if wet, he weighed two stones. His clothes were always too big and they often fell to his feet when the string he tied around his waist came untied while he was working. When that happened, not only his pants came down, but so did his drawers. This never embarrassed him as he was use to it.

He was seen every morning out at eight and didn't go back in until his work was done for the day. His days were longer than his Uncle Vernon's.

He lived with his Aunt and Uncle because his parents died when they were killed in a car crash because they were drunk. That happened three and a half years past. For these three years he was never told his name, unless his name was Boy, or Freak. That's all he was ever called. He did not know his birthday and he never slept in a bed. He ate two meals a day, but not always. In fact, he only ate dinner if there was any left after the family ate.

Although he didn't get out until eight in the morning, that was by no means the start to his day. It started off with him being let loose from his small space used for his room, under the stairs. By let loose, it meant his door was unlocked so that he could go use the loo. Then he had to come right back down and start breakfast. If he burnt anything, it came off his plate for either Dudley or Vernon. If it was not fixed to the liking of anyone, it came off his plate to got to the one it disappointed. Then after breakfast he had to do the dishes. While he did them, his Aunt Petunia made the list of chores for him. All of them were for outside as she took care of the inside.

There were times when it rained that he had to find cover and wait for it to pass so that he could continue. Of course this made his day longer and it would mean no dinner for him that day as someone always got up for a snack before he went in for the night.

At night, he would dream of a better life where he was loved and well cared for. He had a name, which he called himself James for it felt right. His mum and dad fed him breakfast and never made him cook it or clean up afterwards. He had chores, but they were minor compared to what he really had to do. James knew when his birthday was and Boy imagined it as October Thirty First, but didn't know why.

This was an on going dream which helped Boy get through the night. He knew it would never really be, but a Boy has to have something to live for. He never gave a name to his parents as the only names he knew were the people he lived with and would never diminish his thoughts of his parents being like them. James was his name because of him hearing about someone named James from his Uncle Vernon that upset him to the point of him turning purple. If anyone could get him that upset, then Boy liked him.

Another dream he had was of his mum and dad watching as James played with his two other uncles that James gave nicknames to. These were names that he remembered from somewhere, but couldn't remember where exactly. They were Moony and Pads. Moony always read James to sleep, while Pads always played games with him. They were constant visitors to his family.

To Boy, it was just another day, although it was very hot and humid. It was July 31st, and for some reason his list was even larger than normal. It started out the same way, with breakfast, but when he was done with the dishes, his Aunt Petunia was still working on his chores list. He had to find out what the first chore was so he could start it. It was mowing the grass then weeding the garden once again.

He started those and when he was done he went back to get the list from his Aunt. He took it from her and looked at the paper she gave him and saw it was written on both sides of the sheet. He crossed off the first two entries and went to start the third. He walked out, but discovered he still had the pencil in his hand and brought it back in to the home. He was surprised when he heard Dudley ask his mum, "Why does Boy have to do all the work Mum? How come I don't have any chores?"

"Because he has to earn his keep if he wishes to stay with us. He is not of our family and you are our son."

"What do you mean, earn his keep?"

"Well, you see Dudders, we give Boy a place to sleep. We feed him and clothe him. We care for him These are all things we don't have to do."

"If you don't have to do them, then why do you keep him here?"

"What would you want me to do with him, if we don't take care of him?"

"But you and dad act like you don't like him, so why keep him here? And why don't you like him? I don't mind him. He's quiet and doesn't complain. You don't give him much food. He wears my old clothes that I outgrow. He sleeps in the closet. What has he done to you?"

"Why do you worry about Boy so much? He never shows you he likes you. Just forget about him and let him do as he has been doing. In fact, Dudders, I think you should start to insult him to see if he gets mad at you. This will show you what type person Boy really is."

"I don't want to insult him. I told you he doesn't bother me. I think you and dad insult him enough, by calling him freak like you do. And what kind of a name is Boy? What is his real name, because I know he has one?"

"Never you mind, and you do as I say or I will tell your dad you disobeyed me."

"Go ahead and tell him. He won't do anything to me. He never does and you know it. If I do anything, he always blames Boy and puts him in the closet. I don't think it's fair."

"So, you would rather take Boy's place in doing the chores?"

That shut Dudley up as, if he didn't think Boy needed to do them, then there was no way he should be doing them. He still didn't think it was fair for Boy.

Harry slipped back out after hearing all this and would thank Dudley if he ever got the chance. It wouldn't be tonight if he didn't get busy with this extra long list.

Next on the list was to wash the windows on the ground floor all around the home. He was lucky that he wasn't required to wash the upstairs windows as this could get him hurt trying to carry the bucket up the ladder with him.

The day got warmer as it went along and Boy was sweating very bad, and his thirst was getting to him. He tried to get a drink from his Aunt, but she refused him and he had to get a drink from the garden hose. He wasn't to fond of this as it never got cool.

As Boy moved along with his chores, he never noticed that the cat lady, Mrs. Figg was watching him. She did it a lot, but never interfered with his work. She never offered him anything and never said anything to him. She had to watch him a couple of times for his Aunt and Uncle, but she never talked with him. Boy always thought her strange, but nice as she always had a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for him when she watched him. Her cats were not very pleasant though. They always watched him as if he were their next meal.

Boy finished the chores on the front of the page and tured it over to see what was next. It was one of his worst chores. He had to trim the branches off the tree that hung over the house and the utility lines. The branches up there were small and not very safe. The saw he used was dull and missing teeth. He had no way to secure himself from falling. He had fallen a few times while doing this chore. He got the saw from the shed and began climbing the tree and when he got near the top, he could feel the branches giving under his weight. Bending but not quite breaking. He found the branches that needed trimming and began his task. Then he felt a cool breeze kick up and enjoyed it, not knowing that it was followed by a storm. A fast moving storm that caught him unaware. Between the wires and the tree, he was in very much danger, yet he worked on.

He felt the first drop of rain hit him and he still worked on, being use to working in the rain. He knew his Aunt wouldn't let him in. Then it got harder and the tree branches were becoming slick and he was slipping all over the place. The sound of thunder was heard in the background and the rain was getting heavier.

Boy felt it was time to get down before he fell and was ready to throw the saw to the ground when lightning struck him in the chest. He was already unconscious when he fell to the ground. His shirt was blackened and his chest was bleeding as was his forehead. Smoke rose from his shirt where it was struck and his skin was blistered.

Mrs. Figg saw what happened and ran to her home to call in the authorities to tell them of the accident and the response was very fast as they were on scene within fifteen minutes.

Petunia heard the sirens and knew they were close, but had no idea they were outside her home until Dudders ran to the front and opened the door to see they were right there. He watched as they took a stretcher around the back and followed them to see Boy lying on the ground and still holding the saw he was using. He saw blood coming from his head and chest and the burn marks on his skin. He called him mum and she came running to see what happened and she wanted to run back in the home and lock the door to keep from answering any questions. It didn't work as soon she heard it and went to the door and opened it to see two Constables asking to come in. She let them in and she was answering the questions being asked. She didn't like the way they sounded and knew she was in trouble when they started talking abuse. She heard the medical vehicle leave and saw Dudley come in and see what was happening. He said, "They just took Boy away in the Med Van."

Petunia lowered her head when Dudders said this and knew more questions were coming.

"What did he mean, calling him Boy? Aren't they your sons?"

"This one is my son. The one that fell is my nephew. In case you need it, his name is Harry."

"IN case we need it? Lady, are you crazy?"

Petunia took offense to that, "Don't call me crazy. That boy is a freak and is all kinds of trouble. You will soon find out. We didn't tell him his name because he needs disciplining. All kinds of weird things happen around him."

Petunia was taken outside so that one of the Constables could talk with Dudley. "Son, how well do you know your cousin?"

"I know him good, why?"

"Is he a trouble maker?"

"No."

"Does he talk back to his Aunt and Uncle?"

"No."

"Does he do strange things?"

"No,"

"So, you say he is a good boy?"

"No."

"Why do you say no after all the good things you said about him?"

"Because mum and dad say he is no good, but I never see it."

"Thank you son, now if you will please come with me."

They were both taken to the station where they found Vernon already there answering questions and turning purple in his face.

After further questioning, they were released on bond, but were given a court date for a hearing on the case.

Petunia had a lot of explaining to do to Vernon, but she just did as she was told and he couldn't say anything to her. He asked her how the authorities found out about the incident and she couldn't answer as she didn't know. When she was taken to the vehicle, she saw everyone outside looking on so it could have been any of them.

The next morning the headlines read; BOY STRUCK BY LIGHTNING IN CRITICAL CONDITION.

The story that followed painted a very dark picture of Vernon and Petunia as being child abusers and depriving the child of food and water as he was malnourished and in bad shape in need of water. The lightning strike broke ribs and did internal damage. The fall broke his leg and his arm and did damage to his neck. His head was traumatized by branches and the fall to the ground. He was in a coma and was not expected to come out of it, there was so much damage. He showed no movement and no response to questions.

There was no next of kin to report to other than the Dursleys, so they were surprised when a old man showed up to take charge of the boy. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am here to take young Harry to a healer that can help him."

The doctor in charge of Harry's case was affronted by this statement, "Are you calling me an unfit doctor?"

"No sir, I am not. But are you familiar with these kind of cases to the point you can heal him?"

"No, and I have some that are capable of healing him that say he cannot be healed."

"Well, I know one that can heal him, so if you will release him to my care, I will see to it that he will be well taken care of. If you need anything special for his release, let me know and I will get it, from whoever I need to get it from."

"Who is this HEALER you say is so good that he or she can work miracles?"

"The name does not need to be said, just know he or she is that good. Now, will you turn him over to me or do I need to get paperwork?"

"OH, you need to get paperwork, and lots of it. This boy is in my care and I want to make sure no further harm comes to him. You may be here on behalf of his Aunt and Uncle who are responsible for him being here."

"Yes, I read the paper and I can tell you I am not here on their behalf. I am here for Harry's well being, and the sooner we start the process, the sooner he will be better."

"I'm sorry, but you will need that paperwork before I can release him to you."

"Who will you need this paperwork from?"

"Someone who knows you mean the child no harm that I know and trust."

"Very well, I will be back in two hours with your paperwork. Will you supply this paperwork for a signature?"

"Just have him sign a copy of Harry's chart with a comment about your integrity."

This was at ten A.M. By one P.M. Albus was back with a letter signed by Prime Minister Tony Blair and a follow up call to the number on the sheet confirmed what Albus told them. The transfer papers were drawn up and by the time they were done, Albus had a vehicle waiting to transfer Harry to St. Mungos and a waiting Poppy Pomfrey, the med witch at Hogwarts School for Witches and Wizards, which wasn't mentioned in the comments.

During the ride to the hospital Albus examined Harry and found several things that were different about him. His scar was no longer red, but a rather a yellow or golden color. His chest wound was also this color, and his magic was much stronger than he last remembered. Like it had been released from some sort of bind. He also saw where Harry was starting to heal his own wounds, but it was a slow process for him and Poppy's would be much faster.

He then saw where his eyes seemed to be clearing a fog that covered them, which may have impaired his vision. The glasses he wore were on the bed beside him and Albus placed them in his pocket to see if he would need them when he woke.

In all, Albus was seeing a different Harry Potter than the one he brought to the Dursleys so long ago. This one was stronger and maybe more intelligent. He hoped all this was for the better. He would need all this for what he would face in the future.

A/N: I would like to take this time to explain the title. It has to do with the chances of being struck by lightning. The chance are 1 in 250,000, thus the title, Chances Are. Weak I know, but that is what I picked. Hope you enjoy it. As always, Ollie the Keeper.