Edit notice: I posted the first 3 chapters of this story when I was 11.

Recently, I got a PM that encouraged me to think about this story again and I've decided to view it as a sort of challenge- can I take 3 terrible chapters and turn them into an interesting story?

I don't want to change the first 3 chapters too much as that would ruin the challenge- but they're pretty hard to read. I will be cleaning them up a bit to fix up some consistency errors and of course to get rid of the dreaded block of text!

The overall script won't be changing so there's no need to re-read thoroughly if you're actually interested in the story- but I might have to de-power Harry a bit to make it realistic. As it is now, Harry could probably click his fingers and all his enemies would spontaneously combust. That's a boring story!

Don't worry though, he's still going to be powerful, independent and intelligent.

Without further ado, on with the story!

Magic

"Freak! Clean the attic. I want it spotless by the time we get back."

"Yes Aunt Petunia," replied the boy resignedly.

The boy sighed as he trudged up the stairs on his way to the attic. Today was his 6th birthday and he was going to spend it cleaning the attic whilst his cousin Dudley was at the aquarium with his parents.

This was the first birthday he could remember where he knew the date. He was lucky he knew it was his birthday at all. Last year had been his first year at school, and the school had required his birth certificate for their records. He'd spotted his date of birth on his files.

The boy slowly climbed the ladder, wishing with all his might that someday he'd find a place where he truly belonged- for he knew without a doubt that this house was not that place.

He soon reached the top of the ladder. He pulled himself up into the attic and shut the trap door behind him before he stood. He pulled the cord to turn the light on and groaned at the sight of all the dust. The place was horrible.

There were boxes of things stacked everywhere and dust coated everything, making the place look black.

Even the light bulb was struggling to brighten the attic as it too, was covered in layers of thick dust. He groaned again and set to work. The duster was almost useless within three strokes and the cleaning materials didn't last too long either.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the attic, but his stomach was telling him it had been more than a few hours, when he spotted a trunk in the back corner of the attic.

It was different from everything else in the room as it was clean- it looked as though it had only just been placed in the room- but that wasn't possible as it was buried well and truly out of reach.

The boy knew he had to investigate the trunk, but he was worried. What if Aunt Petunia realised he had stopped working? But his curiosity was too strong.

He made his way over to the trunk slowly, shifting many boxes out of the way as he did so.

Finally, he made it and he stared at the trunk.

It was beautiful.

It was built out of a dark wood, with edging and clasps that looked suspiciously like gold… but his aunt and uncle couldn't afford that!

It was about the size of his cot, or the laundry sink.

He ran his fingers gently over it, marvelling at the feel of the smooth, cool wood under his fingers when he froze- the wood had been disturbed at some point. Something had been carved into it.

Harry James Potter had been engraved on the edge.

His heart sped up. This trunk was his?

He wondered briefly if it was a trick, but his curiosity outweighed his caution. Marvelling at the texture of the latches, he carefully unlocked it and lifted the lid.

The trunk was full! The thing that caught his attention however was the letter on top – again with his name on it.

It wasn't paper, it felt too grainy and vaguely uncomfortable under his fingers.

The ink, too, was intriguing.

He knew that no one could write in that way with a normal pen.

It looked like something on display in the museum he had been to with his class, but being addressed to him, it couldn't possibly be that old.

He was becoming more and more concerned that this was a cruel trick being played on him, but he'd gone in too deep now- he might as well keep exploring.

He carefully broke the seal and opened the letter. He gasped.

To my son, Harry-

I am so sorry I cannot be there with you as you are growing up. I am, and always will be, so proud of you. I love you Hare Bear.

There is so much I wish I could put down in this letter for you, but I fear it will already be too long.

There is an important truth that you need to know, and I suspect Petunia will not tell you.

Magic is real.

Your father, James, and I were both magical (witches and wizards) and you, too, are a wizard.

This isn't a bad thing, honey.

When you are 11 a letter will come to you and invite you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

There you will be taught magic and make lots of friends.

Harry smiled as the letter went on to describe Hogwarts. He was sure it was a joke, but the description sounded nice- surely, he was allowed to imagine it was real!

…once you get your wand from Diagon Alley, you won't be allowed to use magic outside of school because the Trace will alert the Ministry and it's illegal for underage witches and wizards to use wands outside of their school.

Harry, there is a serious point to this letter, as well.

When you were little, a seer (someone who can predict the future) made a prophecy that goes like this:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…

born to those who have thrice defied him born as the seventh month dies…

and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…

and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…

the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

It could have been referring to either you or another boy your age called Neville Longbottom.

I am so proud and so sorry to have realised today that the prophecy was indeed referring to you.

You see Hare Bear, I am a seer as well.

Today I saw what is about to happen in a month.

The three of us are currently in hiding, protected by a powerful spell, called the Fidelius Charm. The spell hides our location within a trusted person, known as the Secret Keeper.

The Secret Keeper is the only person who can pass on the knowledge of our location- even I can't tell anyone else where we are living now.

Unfortunately, it looks like we placed our trust in the wrong man and he will betray us to the Dark Lord, known as Lord Voldemort.

On October 31st, Peter Pettigrew will reveal the Secret and Voldemort will come to our home.

I know this has to happen; there is no getting around it, so I haven't told James.

He is going to kill your father and I, but you will survive.

The curse meant to kill you rebounds and he will be ripped from his body- but not truly dead yet.

The rebounding curse leaves a scar on your forehead- it looks like a lightning bolt, doesn't it?

Dumbledore is going to ignore our will and you will be sent to live with the Dursleys to remain ignorant of the magical world until you are invited to attend Hogwarts.

The worst part is the old man has put blocks on your magic to make it harder for you.

I don't know what he's playing at! Harry, this is why I have left this trunk for you.

It is invisible to everyone that is not a Potter and you can shrink it to fit in your pocket when you close the lid by holding the clasp and saying 'shrink.'

It has some books for you to study before you go to Hogwarts, and both your father's and my wands will appear in there once we die.

Please, Hare Bear, learn as much as you can and practice your magic whenever possible (not around the Dursleys) because one day you will face Voldemort in battle, and only you have the power to win.

I know you can, Harry, because you are special.

Study hard at school but don't be afraid to have fun. (Your father was the biggest prankster at school! He was part of a group that called themselves the marauders- James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, the traitor).

When you get to school, if you summon the Marauders Map it will help you find your way around.

It's an impressive map, but you can't show anyone.

To view the map, tap it and say 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good' and you will see the map and its… special features.

When you wipe it blank, you tap it and say 'mischief managed.'

Blame your father for the passwords.

Harry, keep the prophecy at the back of your mind, but don't let it take over you.

You will have the power to defeat him, and killing that particular… creature… is not murder, it is doing the world an enormous favour.

Son, I know you can so this and I don't want to see you in the afterlife until you have lived a respectable amount of time, so be careful.

I know that if you are anything like your father trouble will find you wherever you are but you will get ridiculously lucky and escape thousands of times.

Have fun, Harry, enjoy life and kick Voldemort's backside as payback from the two of us!

Your Mother,

Lily Potter

Harry smiled through his tears.

The letter had said his parents loved him, and even better, they weren't drunks!

They died bravely, not in a car crash like he had been told.

He shrunk the trunk the way his mother had written about and put it in his pocket before going back to cleaning the attic.

A few hours later, Harry heard his uncle's car pull into the driveway and heaved a sigh of relief.

He had finished the attic half an hour ago but knew that he wasn't allowed to leave it until they got home.

Soon enough, his aunt banged on the trapdoor and told him to come out so that she could inspect it.

Harry quickly opened the door and climbed down the ladder allowing his aunt to do the inspection.

Once she had looked around, she called it acceptable and he was relieved. He was going to be allowed dinner tonight.

Harry was impatient the whole night.

He wanted to inspect the trunk!

He cooked dinner as quickly as he could without making a mess and ate his share quickly.

He cleared the table, cleaned the dishes, wiped down the bench and mopped the floor in a daze, the letter his mum had written him going around in his head.

He knew it sounded ridiculous.

Magic!

But he couldn't help but believe her.

Lily Potter knew things that she shouldn't and her explanations were much better than his Aunts.

Harry decided that he would have to just wait and try this magic before he decided.

Finally, he was sent to his cupboard for the night and Harry pulled the trunk out of his pocket and enlarged it.

He opened it and looked inside.

He had moved the letter out of the way and saw the books were all lined up by subject and labelled.

Transfiguration 1st year- James Potter, 2nd year- James Potter, 3rd year- Sirius Black, 4th year- Remus Lupin, 5th year- James Potter and so on.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies textbooks were mostly owned by James Potter originally, with a few from Sirius and Remus.

They all had notes scribbled in them about both the subject and more trivial things.

The 1-7th year History of Magic, Potions, Charms, Astronomy, Divination, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes had all once belonged to his mother and had her notes written in neatly as well.

There were also books on Occlumency and Legilimency with a note telling Harry that Dumbledore was a master Legilimens so he would need to study both subjects well before he started Hogwarts.

Hogwarts: A History was in the trunk next to Quidditch Through the Ages- his mother had said that if James found the trunk he wouldn't let it go until that book was included.

Harry saw books on wandless magic and after reading the note saying that it couldn't be traced he knew it was going to be high on his priority list.

Finally, there were books on how to behave like a pureblood, and other aspects of magical society and Harry was glad about that.

He didn't want to alienate himself from the magical world because he didn't know of their customs. He'd heard his Uncle complain often enough about the way tourists behave when he went into London… Harry didn't want to come across as a tourist in the magical world.

Harry then noticed a small area of the trunk not containing books and he looked at it.

He smiled gently when he saw his parent's wands and read the note saying that he could use them until he turned 11- when the Trace would kick in and another warning about not using magic near muggles.

Harry then saw the thing buried at the bottom and gasped- a huge stack of magical photographs and notes telling him who everyone was.

At the bottom of the photos there was a note telling Harry about the second invisible compartment and how to open it.

It was empty, though, and Harry shrunk the trunk and put it underneath the cot for the night wondering what he was going to put in the second compartment and thinking about tomorrow, when he would finally begin to learn magic.

He was convinced that it was real.

Harry knew he was smart, very smart, but he also knew that he had to hide his brains from the Dursleys as there would be consequences.

Harry could remember nearly everything he read or heard word for word and understood things very easily.

He had spent lunchtimes during his first year of primary school in the library studying the older year's coursework and he was sure he could easily move up a grade if he wanted to.

He could also read books extremely quickly and so he was unsurprised when it didn't take him long to grasp the basics in the magical textbooks.

Harry learnt the Lumos charm within a week and was using it almost nightly to allow him to read for longer.

He learnt to control the brightness of the charm very early on as his first attempts had been painful on his eyes and left him overwhelmed for hours afterwards.

He had held both of his parents' wands and they both felt foreign in his hand, but his mother's was slightly friendlier.

Harry was disappointed that he couldn't brew potions as they sounded interesting, but it was dangerous and there was no room in his cupboard.

He shuddered at the thought of Aunt Petunia coming into the cupboard in the middle of a potion.

Harry had been studying magic for a month at night, but he already loved it. Each subject was in his opinion brilliant for different reasons.

Charms and Transfiguration came naturally to him and he understood Potions without much effort. Defence Against the Dark Arts and Occlumency, however, were even better. They were… instinctual.

The first time he had read about Occlumency, he couldn't wait to try it and began to build his mindscape.

He built his dream castle- it was huge, with lots of large, opulent rooms. (including indoor swimming pools and what he imagined a Quidditch pitch would look like) His second favourite room was the library as it contained a copy of every book he had ever read and was growing rapidly.

In a small, insignificant cupboard, held the greatest treasure of his mind, though.

The cupboard under the stairs contained himself- it held his thoughts, emotions, memories and feelings.

It was also a place that he could retreat to when he was feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated by the harsh lights and sounds of the real world.

The only part of the castle that Harry disliked was the attic- it contained an evil-feeling black, tar-like substance.

Harry was unable to remove it from his mind no matter what he tried so he had carefully separated it from the rest of his mind and locked it in the attic hoping he would never have to go near it again.

Harry placed many muggle traps in the castle designed to capture or explode unwanted visitors.

Outside the castle had huge grounds and the edge of the grounds was where visitors would enter.

The castle was surrounded by a large forest teeming with dangerous magical and non-magical creatures ready and trained to attack any visitors apart from Harry.

Harry's favourite defence, though, was little clones of himself armed with wands patrolling the perimeter of the castle.

They were all very skilled in offensive magic considering they were all 6 years old.

Harry was sure that people would have a hard time entering his mind, but he had no way of finding out until he got to Hogwarts.

Harry studied magic whenever he could.

2 months after finding the trunk, Harry came across a passage in one of the books he was reading, and was concerned.

It said that the healthier a body was, the healthier the magic. Harry certainly wasn't healthy.

It also said that being fit helped your magic develop and he knew that he needed to do everything he could to encourage his magic to develop as he had extensive blocks trying to prevent it.

Harry then realised that if he was going to have to battle one of the strongest wizards in the world, he wanted to be able to dodge curses. He had read about unblockable spells.

The next morning, Harry began his exercise.

Instead of walking to school as he usually did, he ran to the local park. A man was in the park doing an exercise routine so Harry ried to discretely copy the exercise he was doing.

Harry nearly misjudged the time, but managed to catch himself before he got too carried away with the exercise and managed to complete his run to school just as the bell rang.

He was bored at school for the day, making sure everything he did was at a low standard so that he didn't outperform Dudley- except in Latin.

He didn't care what the Dursleys said; he was going to do well in that class as it was important.

When school was finished, he went for another run, exercised at the park and then back to the Dursleys.

He still managed to beat Dudley, who was being dropped home by Mrs. Polkiss, to the door.

That routine went on for a week when he was finally spotted by the owner of the local martial arts studio.

The man asked Harry what he was doing and Harry told him that he needed to get fit.

His dad was a 'soldier' that was killed in war, as was his mother.

He now lived with his Aunt and Uncle but he knew that one day he too, would be sent off to war and he wanted to be fit enough and have the stamina required to stay alive.

The man bought his story, muttering something under his breath about 'IDF' that Harry didn't understand.

"Why don't you attend classes at my studio? Martial Arts would do you good," said the man musingly.

"Yes, sir, I can't afford it, though. My aunt and uncle want me to learn to be independent, so they won't pay for things like this, they say I need to earn the money," said Harry nervously.

"Hmmm… can't afford it. Normally I offer jobs to people who cannot afford lessons, but you might be a little young for that," said the man.

"Sir, I am young in body, but I can handle having a job if it means being allowed lessons here!" said Harry excitedly. This was exactly what he needed.

"How much pocket money do you get, kid?"

"None, sir."

"Hmmm… I can't legally give you a job, but you could perhaps help out with some housekeeping in exchange for lessons. You'll be cleaning the studios, collecting mail and doing anything else I ask you to do, unless you aren't capable of doing that. Do you want it?"

"Yes, sir, it sounds brilliant!" said Harry happily.

"Okay, we have before and after school classes. Why don't we do an hour before school and an hour after school each day, and you can help out with some housekeeping after classes for an hour or so. How does that sound?"

"Sir, it sounds perfect."

"Will your Aunt and Uncle be alright with that?"

"Sir, I am sure they will be fine."

"Okay, kid, see you tomorrow morning."

With that, the man walked away and Harry restarted his run thinking about how well that had turned out.

He was going to get lessons in Martial Arts!

Now he just had to work out how to pitch this to the Dursleys in a way that wouldn't make them want to prevent him from going. Unfortunately, communication and lying wasn't his strong suit.

The next morning, Harry was outside the martial arts studio at 7am, breathing heavily having just gone for his run.

Apparently before-school classes were a mix of yoga, acrobatics and gymnastics that left Harry more out of breath than anything he'd experienced before.

It was Friday, so when he came back after school, Kung Fu was offered for his age group. Harry was given his uniform and a white belt before he joined in on learning the form. To his delight it was fun but hard.

He was extremely disappointed when he had to leave.

His Aunt had not noticed his absence and Harry was able to sneak his uniform into his cupboard without much notice.

Saturday, Harry did his chores as quickly as possible and was kicked out of the house. He raced to the studio as soon as that happened. He was just in time for a pure Gymnastics class.

Harry found that this was slightly easier than Martial Arts and knew he was really going to enjoy his Saturdays from now on. The vault in particular was fantastic, in his opinion.

Sunday, and Harry initially thought he'd been pranked- it was a dance class! Harry very quickly learnt that his Uncle's opinion that "dancing is for pansies" was clearly wrong – it was the hardest class he'd tried so far.

The next week went quickly and Harry was soon acquainted with his new classes and found them all different but enjoyable.

The studio was quickly becoming an obsession of his.