Author's note: This fic is the prequel to another of my fics Are you cross? It is not necessary to read 'Are you cross?' first, but I do recommend it. This prequel is mainly to explain Snape's role in Harry's life as that's going to be a key part of 'Primary School Years' (AYC's sequel) Are you confused yet with all these sequels and prequels buzzing around?

Anyway, this has all been rewritten and improved (hopefully) and like I said it's focus is showing how Snape watches over Harry and saves him when needs be, much like in canon. It will have five chapters and the last chapter will take us right up to where AYC starts.

AYC readers; thanks so much for the support and sticking with this series.

New readers; welcome, I really hope you stick around! If you have any questions just ask, I don't bite at all and I reply to all signed reviews.

This chapter shows what Harry's life was like before he lived with Remus and Sirius, it is not all that graphic but still very sad. If you are sensitive to this sort of thing (aren't we all, when we know it happens in real life.) then please skip this chapter and move onto chapter 2. 2,3 and 4 do not show any abuse though may hold reference to it. Chapter 5 may also have non graphic abuse or references to it.

There is a happy ending!

Dreams, Chapter 1

Harry Potter was lying in his small cupboard trying not to fall asleep. He was tired, exhausted in fact, after all the work he had done that day but he did not want to fall asleep. Not only did it make the time before he had to start work again pass really fast but it was also plagued with dreadful images and scenes. Scenes that he didn't really understand but was frightened by none the less.

The dream was in his head even when he was awake. It started off nicely, a man that Harry knew was his dad was making bubbles come out of a stick and Harry was trying to pop them. It was a much younger Harry though, a Harry that was easily amused by such antics though the present Harry wouldn't mind popping bubbles even now if it was with his parents.

Then a pretty woman came in and Harry knew her to be his mum, she was laughing at the duo and then his dad was passing Harry to her and she was holding him close and even when he was only dreaming he could smell her flowery scent. But it was at that point that the dream started to go wrong.

There was a massive bang that seemed to get louder every time he had the dream and then his dad shouted that it was 'him' though Harry had never worked out who 'him' was. His mum had immediately tensed and Harry had felt the fear coming off her. She had ran upstairs and tried to barricade the door.

There was a yell and a bang from downstairs and his mum began to cry. It wasn't until recently that Harry had worked out what that bang was. The fact was that bang signalled the end of his dad's life and in extension the end of Harry's life as he knew it. The door to their refuge flew open and that was Harry's first sighting of 'him'.

It wasn't very informative. He was cloaked from head to toe in black with just little slits for his eyes. The eyes were the only actual body part that Harry could see thanks to the cloak, the eyes were a deep fiery red. Harry was just trying to remember if it was someone he knew when a wrinkled hand emerged from the midnight folds of velvet. The hand was gripped around a stick just like Harry's parent's.

It was pointing straight at him. The next bits Harry didn't really understand, there was screaming and lots of green light and then.. Nothing. When the world cleared of darkness he was in his Uncle Padfoot's arms and then he had been on a motor bike with a giant and then their had been two very strange people both whom Harry had vaguely recognised. One had called the other Albus, this name sounded familiar but he wasn't quite sure how he knew it. He rarely got this far into the dream though because he normally woke up in cold sweat at the point of the green light or Aunt Petunia would be banging on his cupboard door and waking him up. He didn't mind though, anything was better than the dreams.

Harry shook his head to clear it off the awful images. His throat felt dry, he needed water. But did he dare to get some? He lay down and tried to take his mind of it but it didn't work, he really did need a drink. He pushed the door tentatively, it was locked. He felt disappointed but relieved at the same time, at least now he had an excuse for not going. But as he was sitting there he got more and more frustrated, his throat felt like sandpaper and was really starting to hurt. He had to have a drink.

It was as he was thinking this that the cupboard door swung open, Harry looked at it in shock. How had that happened? He had just been imagining it opening and here it was happening exactly as he had wished! He was about to scramble out gleefully when he had a thought that made him retreat to the back of the cupboard. What if it was a trap?

It was the sort of thing Uncle Vernon would dream up as an excuse to beat him, perhaps he had opened the door and was just waiting for him to come out. Well, he wasn't going to catch Harry out! He resolved to stay just where he was. Ten minutes later he was beginning to regret his decision, he badly needed a drink and the open door was just mocking him. Freedom was so close, besides what if Uncle Vernon wasn't there? He would be passing up an excellent opportunity, he screwed up all of his courage and decided to go for it.

All of his courage dissolved instantly the second he was in the kitchen. The kitchen looked so different in the dark, everything looked bigger and more intimidating. He had got that far, he couldn't give up now. The scariest bit so far was peeking around the cupboard door but his Uncle had been nowhere in sight and so Harry had carried on going and now he really wished he hadn't. He padded over to the fridge and opened it a tiny bit, he listened hard for any noises to indicate his Uncle's consciousness but there was none so he flung it open the rest of the way to get it over with. BIG MISTAKE!

A hundred assorted items of food came tumbling out, shaking the floor as it came to contact with it. It must have been resting on the door. Harry used his arms to protect his head as he got bombarded. The lemonade fell and managed to knock over the bottles of beer which fell like dominos, smashing upon impact with the floor. The cheese, sausages, bacon and leftover shepherds pie joined the soggy remains on the floor. When the crashing finally stopped Harry cautiously peeked out from under his arms, was it over? He was just deciding it was when the fridge decided to throw one last thing at him. The eggs! The sticky slimy substance and the cracked shells rested on top of the pile. . Harry was staring at the mess with growing horror before a loud crash as the door flew open making him spin around. His uncle was silhouetted against the kitchen doorframe.

"What are you doing, boy!?!" He spat.

"N-n-n-nothing, sir" Harry stuttered.

Vernon Dursley's eyes finally adjusted to the dark and to Harry's horror focused straight on the mess.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY KITCHEN, BOY?!" He shouted.

Harry took this as his cue to run. His Uncle threw himself at the door to block his escape route. Harry tried to dodge him but skidded on the fallen food and landed on his back on the floor. His Uncle reached down and grabbed him, lifting him high in the air.

"You were stealing my family's food, Weren't you boy?" He snarled shaking the small child violently.

Harry could find no response that didn't incriminate him and so settled for silence.

"Answer me, boy!" The fat Dursley demanded.

"I-I-I" Harry wondered whether it would be better to lie.

"I will answer for you as you seem to be incapable. You were stealing our food you ungrateful good-for-nothing freak! We take you in, feed you and look after you and you repay us by stealing and being a general embarrassment. Why can't you be more like Dudley? It's because of your freakish parents, you should have done us all a favour and died with them!"

Harry sniffled and his eyes darted towards the door. Would he be able to make it back to his cupboard? He didn't think so.

"Well, it's time someone taught you a lesson" Vernon said gleefully.

"No! Please Sir!" Harry had been on the receiving end of one of his uncles 'lessons' before and he certainly didn't want another one.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears…

The minutes passed in a painful red haze.

"Please stop! I have learnt my lesson!" Harry begged.

Finally Vernon Dursley threw his nephew back in the cupboard.

"It will be ten times worse if you ever do that again, boy," he spat.

Harry curled up in a ball in his cupboard, tears falling down his cheeks. All he wanted was to be loved. Somewhere is the world there were people who would love him, Harry was sure of that. And it was that moment Harry made a decision; he was going to run away.

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