Disclaimer: I do not own J.K Rowling's fantastic story, Harry Potter. I would love to, but of course I don't.

Chapter 1: A magnet for trouble

Aunt Petunia was one for perfectionism and Harry Potter despised her for it. Since the mere age of five he found himself cooking breakfast, cleaning the dishes, dusting the floor, and weeding the flowerbed. As he grew older the amount of chores escalated until he was forced to start his homework at eleven o'clock at the earliest. After all, precious Dinky Dudleykinns needed to focus on his studies while he, Harry, was a burden to the family (actually society in general as Uncle Vernon stated it). Harry supposed that if the definition of studying meant watching television and playing shooting games on the computer then Dudley was becoming quite the scholar.

According to his relatives, Harry was an imperfection on society. "His kind"-whatever that meant- was not allowed. And although Harry did not agree with their treatment toward him, he could see why they looked at him differently. After all, everyone else did. It wasn't his fault, at least not intentionally, but he always seemed to be a magnet for trouble. Sometimes, odd things happened around him, such as when he suddenly found himself stuck on the roof or when he turned his teacher's wig blue.

It was again one of those times.

It all started when Harry, for once in his life, had some time for himself. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took Dudley and his friends to a new amusement park and left him with Ms. Figg. Luckily, Ms. Figg got rather distracted easily and Harry slipped out of the house to avoid another story about Mr. Tibbles or Bibblyboe. He swore that he would rather die of boredom than hear yet another story.

Instead he went to the nearby park.

Harry sat on his favorite bench. Today the park was crowded with kids screaming, laughing, and giggling with their parents. Harry stared in longing as a father pushed his daughter higher into the air on the swings. He was so preoccupied in his own thoughts that he didn't notice a set of eyes staring intently at him.

"Well well, if it isn't Mister Harry Potter?"

The voice startled Harry and in surprise he looked at the speaker. The man looked wealthy, judging by his expensive coat and warm shoes. His hair, silky blonde, cascaded past his shoulders and his stormy grey eyes stared at him almost boringly.

"Erm, ex- excuse me?" Harry stuttered weakly. No one ever noticed him.

"Ah" the man stared with a raised eyebrow, "How very rude of me. I am Mr. Malfoy. I am sure your… guardians may have mentioned of us."

"Um sorry no." Harry looked at him strangely.

The man seemed to bristle at this as though the comment offended him. "Indeed," the man bit out. Harry felt a chill creep down his body as the man's gaze settled on his scar.

Suddenly, a young blond boy who looked about Harry's age ran up to the man with a blazing smile on his face. Harry presumed it was his father for the boy tugged on the man's coat and blurted, "Daddy daddy, you've got to see this! You've got to see this now! They are like brooms with chains attached! I mean, it's not as good as flying on a broom at all, but you still get somewhat a small sensation of flying. Some muggles were calling them swings or somethi-" his voice cut off when he saw Harry. Immediately, he cut off and he looked down at Harry pointedly. Harry noticed that he shielded slightly behind his father.

"And who are you?" the boys voice became laced with arrogance that was similar to that of Dudley's.

"No one worth knowing," Harry replied, not wanting to make a scene since the boy's father was there. "Ummm I have to go… so err yeah I'll just-" Harry shifted off the bench in an attempt to escape the scene.

Luckily fate for once was on his side and he made it home easily. Yet he felt as though Mr. Malfoy's eyes were still staring intently at his back. Although that would be impossible.

The rest of the day was normal enough. Harry prepared dinner then cleaned the dishes then washed a few clothes before heading back to his cupboard. His cupboard was the only spot in the house that Aunt Petunia did not mind being dirty. In fact, it almost seemed as though she preferred it to be.

As he entered his cupboard the first thing he noticed was a small neatly wrapped present on his bed. Warily, but with a bit of excitement, he opened the box and peeked inside. Inside was an odd looking necklace with an hourglass attached. Harry moved his hand to inspect the hourglass, but as soon as he touched it, his vision blackened and he felt like his entire body was torn to millions of pieces.

Indeed fate did not like Harry Potter.

Author's Note: So this is a re-write of the first chapter because I found the other version kind of short and a little corny. T_T I guess that's the result of writing while being immensely tired. So I totally changed the first chapter, and I'm going to work on revising the others slightly. This is my first story, so please give me constructive criticism to help me become a better writer I'm a pretty busy person so I'm not promising an update every week. I'll try to update when I have time. This story is merely for my own enjoyment and to share my enjoyment with others. Cheers!

Please review, it makes every writer feel better.