a/n

I went on a bit of a spree and deleted my other stories, they're still on my computer, but I really didn't feel like continuing them. After so long, I kinda lost the connection with them. Maybe sometime I'll rewrite some of them and repost them, but for now, I'm going to work on this one. I know this kinda story isn't an original idea, because I've read quite a few with this kind of plot, but I liked it so much, I thought I'd make my own.

Prologue:

Is it luck that controls our fate in the universe? If so, Harry Potter was a boy with bad luck as of age one. On that fateful Halloween night, Harry was left without a mother, father, and godfather. All that Harry Potter's luck spared him was a home with his magic-hating relatives who stuffed him in a cupboard.

At age five, Harry discovered that luck was not on his side. He was starting school with no friends, his cousin picked on him whenever given the chance, and no, he could not explain to his Aunt Petunia why his hair grew back after she cut so much of it off the night before. Harry, selfless as he was, accepted his ill-fate and was thankful for the small things, like the pencil his Aunt gave him—well, threw at him—for school. He stuffed his belongings in a plastic shopping bag to bring with him to school and waited in the hall for his cousin and Uncle to go to school.

"Come along Dudders, time for school," Harry heard his aunt twitter inside the kitchen.

"Yes, yes, Dudley, it's time to begin your fine education," his Uncle boomed, and his footsteps out of the kitchen were audible.

His Uncle Vernon threw a disgusted look at him, and walked with Dudley outside towards the car. Harry took that as an order to follow, and quickly scampered out after them.

"You get in the back, boy, and don't foul up my car, I've just washed it," were his Uncle's kind words to him.

Dudley sniggered at him and took his seat up front. The ride to the school was short and quick, and Vernon patted Dudley's head and wished him good luck. Harry reached to get out, only to have the car door locks click shut.

"You're not getting out here, boy," Vernon growled at him and started the car ignition.

Harry didn't say anything, but he wondered where he was going. After all, this was the only school in the area, and his Uncle surely wouldn't take him to a different school. Harry didn't say anything, he knew his relatives rule: no questions! Instead he gazed at the grey sky and waited patiently to find out where he was going.

His uncle was driving wildly into the uglier parts of the city and after muttering a few times to himself, turned into a dark road, void except for a dumpster, and stopped the car.

"This is your stop boy, get out," his uncle snarled at him, facing Harry in the back with a devilish look on his face.

"Uncle?" Harry asked bewildered.

"Get out!"

Harry did as he was told, and stepped out of the car. To say he was confused would be an understatement. But he was given no chance to ask questions, his Uncle revved up the car and sped off. Harry, unsure of what to do, put down his bag and sat leaning against the Dumpster. Only a few minutes later, the grey sky opened up and poured on poor, unlucky Harry Potter's head.

Harry didn't get up and roam around; he merely sat there, waiting patiently for his Uncle's return. He was glad for his plastic bag, because it kept his things moderately dry. Harry didn't think of the possibility that his Uncle wasn't coming back. He simply thought that it was some sort of punishment, maybe for his hair growing back like that.

"Well, well, boys, look what we 'ave 'ere," came a teenage male voice from behind him.

Harry, startled, grabbed his bag and scrambled onto his feet. Seeing the group behind him, he tried to back up, only to bump into another boy. The boy grabbed his shoulders and pushed him towards the leader. This little shove caused Harry to fall back down.

"Aw, let's play nice with the little urchin," the leader taunted.

Harry wanted to talk back, and say that he wasn't the urchin, they were. After all, they were clearly a homeless gang. Their tattered clothes and dirty appearances made that obvious.

"Can the little urchin talk? Come on, what 'ave you got to say for yerself?"

"I'm not an urchin," Harry ground out.

"Ah! So he can talk," the leader mocked.

"I'm just waiting for my Uncle," Harry tried to explain. "He's going to come back for me."

"Left you 'ere, did he?" The leader laughed.

Harry nodded, unsure of what else to do.

"Well then, it's safe to say he won't be comin' back," the leader finished. "So, yer on yer own!"

"No!" Harry cried out. "He'll be back! He's just punishing me."

The leader shook his head, shaggy hair flying around with him. "I'm sorry, kid, but when you get left in this part o' town, nobody's comin' back."

Harry sunk against the wall and whatever hope he had left flittered out of him. The rest of the gang shuffled around, unsure of why their leader was being soft.

"Jon, mate, we're not 'ere to give the kid pity, we're 'upposed to be getting him off our turf," a stocky boy said.

"I changed me mind, Kellan, 'e's gonna join us," the leader decided, "can't leave the kid out 'ere to starve, can we?"

The gang members shifted around extremely confused.

"But… Jon, wot's goin' on?" Another boy asked.

"Forget 'bout it, Eric, let's just take the kid and go home, I hate the bloody rain," one of the few girls in the group piped out.

The leader, Jon, shook himself out of the reverie he was in and held out a hand for Harry. Harry knew that if is Uncle were going to come back, he would have by now. So he accepted the offered hand and was pulled to his feet. Thus, Harry began his life apart from the Dursleys.