Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything recognisable in this fanfiction belongs to JK Rowling.

After reading many stories here on ff, I've decided to write one myself. I know I'm not the best writer, which is why I'm writing fanfiction, and not publishing my own series and making myself millions in the process (I wish!) Anyway just a note on the date and time thing, I won't be doing that after this chapter, I only did that to show glimpses of Harry's childhood.

June 28, 1983. 11.32pm

In the dark of a sweltering night, the Dursley family sat in the tidy living room watching TV. The windows were pressed open in the hopes of enticing the nonexistent breeze to enter. Vernon Dursley, the patriarch of the family, sat glued with sweat to his leather recliner. His squat legs spread and eyes glazed over, he played the part of a pot bellied pig perfectly.

Petunia Dursley sat on the matching leather couch unable to keep still. Her summer dress hung loose on her frame as she held her precious son, Dudley. No matter how hard she tired he just would not sleep. With great effort his wails had quietened to the occasional sob. His chubby face remained stained with tears.

The television screened a useless infomercial about the latest vacuum that insured cleanliness that no other machine could match. Had her attention not been elsewhere, Petunia would have found this highly interesting. Vernon on the other hand couldn't care less, but the remote was just too far to reach.

From somewhere behind the family, a cry of a young child reached their ears. No tears came, just dry sobs of a dehydrated child. He hardly had the energy to cry, yet he couldn't stop. He tried to say "water" but nothing came out. His throat was just too dry to form any words.

Outside the room Vernon mustered up the energy to roar at the child to shut up, before he fell back into his semi conscious state. Somewhere in Petunia's mind there was a small voice telling her she really should be taking care of that boy's need too. But her Dudley came first, and always should. Right now Dudley needed his mum, and he just would not share his mother's attention.

The one thought that all occupants of number 4 Privet Drive shared was that it was damn hot tonight.

March 4, 1986. 8.06am.

If anyone were to look inside the house of the Dursley family they would think that the queen was expected to soon arrive for breakfast.

Petunia Dursley raced around the house making sure nothing was out of place and there was not a speck of dust to be seen. After checking every room and straightening one last photo (the only one that contained the boy; perfect for days like this), she left for her bedroom to change into something nice.

While she was doing that Vernon Dursley was downstairs bribing his son into being on his best behaviour for the day. He had made sure Petunia had cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, and was now promising on taking him to his favourite ice cream parlour for lunch.

He walked over to the cupboard under the stairs and opened the door, which creaked in response. In the corner sat one scared boy. Grabbed by the arm, he was forced out of the cupboard and into the open area of the entrance foyer. Squinting at the bright light, he looked up to Vernon, ready for the punishment that was sure to come.

But when all Vernon did was tell him to be on his best behaviour for the lady that coming to visit, he was a little shocked. Vernon told him that the lady would be asking him about his home life, and what to tell her. He would tell her that he was lucky to have the Dursley's as guardians after the unfortunate death of his parents. He would also tell her that he was treated as well as any other child and he couldn't ask for more.

When the doorbell was finally rung the four members of the Dursley's were standing together by the door, fake grins plastered on their faces, and ready to greet whatever came their way.

April 17, 1987. 7.25pm.

Harry could smell the delicious scent of roast pork waft into his room under the stairs. His stomach rumbled in response and he rubbed his small hand in circles against it as if it would numb the pain. This was always his least favourite punishment, going without food. Well, he was given a piece of breed twice times with a glass of water, but it was never enough for a growing boy. At least the pain in his stomach hid the pain of his black eye.

When compared to his cousin Dudley, Harry was a small boy, in weight and height. Dudley always got feed at least twice as much as Harry, and hardly ever participated in school sports. Dudley was a spoilt boy and already a bully at such a young age. Harry wasn't used to life's luxury and was on the receiving end of Dudley's bulling. But this was what Harry was used to and this is what he expected.

At school Harry tried to hide from Dudley by always being near a teacher. The often praised him for being such a courteous and helpful young man. But even they turned their backs on Harry, and encouraged him to go play with his cousin and make friends, because every young boy needed a legion of friends to play with.

As the sound of cutlery scraping against crockery reached Harry's ears, he gave up on wishing that just this once he could taste the delicious smelling food. Instead he lost himself in his imaginary world of magic and fantasy. Tonight he was the legendary wizard Merlin, whom he had learnt about in school. He fought dragons and saved the world from evil. Little did he know how his fantasy would one day become real.

January 4, 1989. 12.04pm

Harry hated Dudley. He hated Dudley for being a bully and for being his cousin. He wished and wished that he had a different family, or at least be treated the same as Dudley. Why is that Dudley gets everything he asks for? Why is it that Dudley can get away with absolutely everything terrible he has done and still be Petunia's angel?

Harry was huddled against the corner of his cupboard with his only blanket wrapped around him for warmth. He loosely held his left arm against his chest as tears dropped down his face. He was in pain, yet it was nothing unusual. In fact he had come to expect pain on a daily basis. He knew no different, and learnt to keep his mouth shut and not say a word. His teeth clenched in pain as a wave of nausea now washed over him.

Harry had spent the morning cleaning out Dudley's second bedroom, occasionally looking longingly out to the snow covered street where he could see children playing. When there screams of joy reached his ears he would turn away and continue cleaning as if it were his favourite job in the world.

Dudley having, seen Harry leave his second bedroom, followed the much smaller boy towards the stairs, and when Harry was half way down them, Dudley placed two large hands in the middle of his cousin's back and pushed with everything he could manage. He sent Harry catapulting down the stairs, the result being Harry having a large lump on his head and what was quite possibly a broken arm.

And of course it was his fault. Not Dudley's, but Harry's, because Dudley was never at fault. Harry would do anything to just live one day like Dudley!

Outside of the cupboard large footsteps could he heard. Slowly, Vernon knelt down and began to slowly open the multiple locks on the door one by one, to force more fear into the boy. As daylight crept into the undersized space, the boy cowering in the corner shook with absolute fear. Vernon smiled in response, and evil expression crossing his face.

Present day, September 14, 1990, 10.05am

The school bell signalling the beginning of class had rung out some time ago, and yet not all students found themselves. It was only the beginning of the school year and yet one young student was already well on his way to detention.

Just before school had began, Harry Potter had been chased out of his school yard by Dudley and his friends. It was Piers Polkiss who first began throwing rocks at Harry, but soon the whole gang of bullies joined in, following Harry with sharp stones and rocks. There was no place inside the school that would be safe for Harry, and so he left, right out the front gates and past parents lovingly saying goodbye to their children for the day. Not one cared to stop him.

Harry didn't give much thought to school. He used to like learning, it made him feel good when he got answers right that his classmates couldn't. But the Dursley's wouldn't allow him to ever get better grades than Dudley, and so he stopped listening and trying. And when the teachers couldn't stop the bullying and the pain he gave up wanting to go at all.

So now Harry found himself in a small park about two blocks away, his clothing stuck to his body in a sticky mess and his black hair for once smoothed over his lightning bolt scar. This particular park was one that Harry frequently visited. It was out of the way that it was never very busy, so he was often able to get the swings to himself. The left side blocked off the view from passing traffic with old oak trees, which were also good for climbing. The very yellow, and very plastic slide occupied the centre of the park while an old steel merry-go-round was found on the right near the swings.

Harry lay in the shade of the biggest oak tree, with his hands lazily placed atop his stomach. This was his happy place, his escape. He no longer believed in the fairy tales of his early youth that he wished and wished to be true. Thinking back, he could clearly envisage the noble knight he played that saved a small and weak village from the wicked dragon. It would be a dark and overcast day, nothing like today, when the dragon would descend on the village. The villagers, with no way of protecting themselves, hide in the town hall, praying for a miracle.

That was when Harry would come in.

Riding his large chestnut steed, he would come in at the last minute, just before the dragon raised his head to burn the village, and slay the creature. Being the hero, he would become famous and known everywhere as the brave knight who selflessly risked his life to save an entire village. But Harry's daydreams very rarely consisted of him playing the hero. He had many dreams like that, but they had now changed. He now dreamed of being free of the Dursley's. Sometimes he would even imagine his parents and the three of them living happily together in the countryside.

The sun rose to it's highest point in the sky and still Harry had not moved. His eyes had closed some time ago and he fell into a content sleep. His mind conjured up images that he would not remember, and when he finally awoke it was to feel a slow drip of moisture onto his forehead. Groaning, Harry rolled over and wiped his head. Looking up he saw that the sky was still a clear blue and not a cloud in sight. Looking around in bewilderment Harry surpassed the urge to scream. Standing only a metre away from him was a big, black, shaggy dog. And if Harry didn't know better he would have thought the dog was grinning at him.

The only contact the frightened boy had with dogs was with Aunt Marge's bulldog Ripper, and he certainly was one to avoid. That dog certainly lived up to his name. Harry still bore the scars on his lower leg from when the last time the two met.

Harry decided the best option was to run to the nearest safe place, that being the oak trees. He easily scaled the closest one; he had spent many hours playing around these trees. Laying with his chest against a sturdy branch, Harry looked down to the dog who now stood directly below him. It seemed friendly enough with a wagging tail and a long, slobbering tonguel rolling around, but there was no way Harry was going to take his chance with it.

Harry's brilliant green eyes never left the dog's dull eyes. After a good ten minutes, the mutt grew tired of the game and curled up at the base of the tree. Taking his chance, Harry carefully dropped to the ground on the other side of the dog. Chancing only one look behind him at the dog, he starting making his way back towards the Dursley house, to pretend he had been at school.

Had Harry looked again, he would have seen the dog following him home, and making himself comfortable in the garden bed amongst Petunia's prized flowers.

Please let me know what you think!