A/N

Hello! This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy.

Summary:

Harry is rescued from the Dursleys by an old friend of his parents on his sixth birthday.

Warnings (More to be added later):

Eventual Dark!Harry, Slash, Good!Voldemort/TMR, Good!Malfoys, Manipulative/Evil!Dumbledore

Pairings (More to be added later):

OMC/LV-TMR

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing but my imagination.

A/N 2:

Edited for grammar and punctuation. 9/24/17

Early in the morning, on July 31st, 1986, young Harry James Potter lay in his cupboard staring into the darkness and singing quietly under his breath, so as not to be heard, "happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday dear Harry. Happy birthday to me."

As a single tear fell slowly down his cheek, Harry contemplated what that day would entail.

For as long as he could remember, his relatives, the Dursleys, had treated him like a slave. Starting when he was four, they made him cook, clean, weed the garden, and many other so called 'chores' that were much too strenuous for a child his age. Especially seeing as he was given just enough food and drink to survive. They called him by horrible names and made him sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. All in all, Harry's life was filled with suffering and pain.

His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never let up on his birthday either. They always said a 'freak' like him never deserved to celebrate the day he was born.

Now Harry was extremely intelligent for his age. He knew the way he was treated was wrong. He'd seen the way his aunt would sneer at people on tv and call them freaks, heard the way his uncle would rant about 'those freakish coworkers' of his at the dinner table. He knew that it was his relatives who were in the wrong, not him.

That didn't make it hurt any less.

Or stop his silent tears in the dead of night when no one could hear.

Silently, Harry wished with all his heart to be free from his relatives. He wished that someone would come and take him away from the hell he's currently living.

With that thought in mind Harry drifted off to sleep, unaware that his wish would soon be granted.

At 7 o'clock in the morning, Harry was woken with a start by a pounding on his door.

"Get up Freak! It's time you make breakfast!" Yelled Petunia in her shrill voice.

Stifling a groan, Harry hurriedly got up and went to do as bid. Aunt Petunia seemed even more irritable today than usual and he didn't want to be punished so early in the day.

He was in for a long morning.

That afternoon, Harry was weeding in the garden when he spotted a young man coming up the walk. The young man looked no older than 18, wavy locks of hair so dark it looked to be black flowed down to his shoulders. His eyes a gold so bright, they would pierce through the densest fog. He stood around 5'9" and walked as though the whole world belonged to him and everyone should bow at his feet. In his black slacks and emerald green dress shirt under a black waistcoat with silver trim, black shoes that shined without a speck of dirt, and the large silver ring with an amber stone laid into the center resting on his right ring finger, he made an image of pure aristocratic refinement. High cheekbones and a small nose just added to his regal air.

Harry startled out of the trance he'd fallen into when he noticed the young man come to a stop a few feet away from him. For a few seconds, he studied Harry and then gave a sharp nod. All at once his intimidating air fell away to reveal a warm and kind smile. He sat back on his heels and looked Harry straight in the eye.

"Hello," he spoke. "My name is Sable. Sable Dunmar. Would you happen to be Harry Potter?"

To say Harry was surprised would be an understatement. No one ever came looking for him. Everyone believed his aunt and uncle's lies about him being a troublemaker so they stayed away from him.

Realizing that Sable was waiting for an answer, Harry hurried to say, "Yes. May I ask how you know my name?"

Sable smiled a bit brighter, though his eyes looked somewhat sad, and said, "I knew your parents well. Though I was just thirteen when they died, they were like older siblings to me."

Harry had thought that his relatives had lied about the type of people his parents were, calling them drunks and other such unbecoming things. And hearing this sophisticated young man say that he considered Harry's parents to be like family to him, well, it just solidified the fact that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were lying in Harry's mind.

"You knew my parents?" Getting a nod in return, Harry asked another question, "What kind of people were they?"

"Your father, James, was a very brave and mischievous man and your mother, Lily, was one of the kindest and most intelligent people I've ever met. They both loved you dearly Harry. You were their whole world," Sable said.

Trying to hold back tears, Harry scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands. He'd never heard his parents described in such a way and it tore at his heart to hear them recalled with such fondness.

Suddenly Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see Sable smiling at him with understanding in his eyes. But before he could say anything, Petunia strode outside and looked as if she'd tasted something sour.

"Boy! What do you think you're doing taking up the time of our guests! Get back to your weeding!" she whispered furiously. Turning to look at Sable she put on what she thought was her best smile but was actually closer to a grimace, "I'm dreadfully sorry about the boy, doesn't seem to remember his place. Anyway, how can I help you?"

By this time Sable had stood but put a hand on Harry's shoulder to stop him from moving away and looked down his nose at Petunia. The warm, welcoming air surrounding him had been replaced with the intimidating aristocrat Harry had originally thought Sable to be.

Sneering, Sable looked at Petunia and said, "Actually, I'm here for Harry. And it would do you well not to interrupt us again."

Startled, Petunia flinched back at the icy tone she was addressed with. Then she drew in a startled gasp and lifted her arm to point at Sable. "You! You're one of them, aren't you?! One of those freaks! Well I won't have one of you here! I don't know what you want with the boy but I want you gone! Right this instant!"

As Petunia continued her shrieking, Harry was shaking and wondering just how bad his punishment would be that night when the hand on his shoulder squeezed gently as if to reassure him. Harry looked up at Sable who gave him a soft smile and then crouched down to be on Harry's eye level again.

"Harry, I'd like you to come live with me. That is, only if you'd like of course," said Sable with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Putting Petunia's incessant shrieking out of his mind, Harry considered the offer. This man, Sable, had been nothing but kind to him from the moment they met. And he'd known Harry's parents. Had considered them family. Plus, it would get him away from the Dursleys and Harry would do anything to be away from them.

"Yes, I'd like that very much," Harry said, ducking his head shyly.

Sable chuckled then pulled Harry into a hug. "Good. Now then, is there anything you'd like to bring with you?"

Harry didn't even have to think about it. "No, nothing."

Sable nodded. "Alright then, we can just go buy you everything new anyway. Well then, let's go."

Standing up, Sable held out his hand to Harry who took it without hesitation.

"Now wait just a minute!" Petunia shrieked. "While I'd like nothing more than to be rid of the boy—"

"Then I don't see the problem with this," Sable interrupted. "But to be on the safe side, Obliviate!"

Sable pulled out a long, thin stick and pointed it at Petunia. Her eyes glazed over and she turned on her feet and walked into the house.

"Now then, I'm sure you have questions but first I think it's prudent we leave. Hold onto to my hand tightly and don't let go," Sable said.

Nodding, Harry gripped his hand. Sable nodded back and then suddenly Harry felt like he was being forced through a tube.

With a crack, Harry Potter had left Privet drive.