The Goblin stood in the living room and stared at my Uncle Vernon. It was a sight to behold, never had I seen my Uncle this angry, not even after I somehow made it to the roof of my school. I felt bad for the Goblin, as he stood I could see my Uncle's face turn to the violent purple, more purple than anytime he had hit me.

"You get out of my house." My Uncle was never quiet when he was angry, that scared me more than anything else.

"The child comes with me. You have no reason for him to be here anymore. I am taking him with me."

"No. The freak stays." The man stood and marched towards me. Suddenly there was a thin veil of light between us and he walked into it and instantly became unconscious.

"Come. We should be getting you back Mr. Potter. And by the way," He paused as the clock rang Midnight, "Happy Birthday."

Wait, maybe I should start a few hours before all of this happened, give background or something. Hold on, let me get my thoughts together.

…

…

(Change to general Point of View)

Harry James Potter went to retrieve the mail, as his Uncle had told him to. He flipped through some of the letters and found one addressed to him, specifically him, right down to the Cupboard Under the Stairs. He stopped by his Cupboard and slipped it under the door. He went into the kitchen and gave his Uncle the rest of the mail and the bills.

He finished the toast he was allowed and simply excused himself to his other chores. He spent the day washing his Uncle's car, tending his Aunt's garden before finally making dinner for the others in the house and went to his Cupboard. He opened the letter.

Dear Mr. Harold James Potter,

We are sad to inform you that this will be our last attempt at correspondence. You have an account here at Gringotts that needs to be claimed or it will be closed. If you reach into the envelop you will find a charmed Galleon, it will bring you here when you touch it. If you do not arrive by midnight on your tenth birthday the account not registered directly to you will be closed.

Account Manager Riptooth,
Potter Account

Harry read through the letter twice, he looked at his small clock and saw that he had maybe five hours left to appear if this was not a joke. He knew no one would check on him at this time of night so he reached in and grabbed the funny looking coin he had found at the bottom of the envelop. He felt a funny pull on his navel.

The Boy-Who-Lived disappeared.

Somewhere in Scotland an office in a big castle exploded in a shower of glass and some metal.