Disclaimer: This is for the whole story! I don't own HP! If you don't know that then now you do! So for the rest of the story, just remember, I DON"T OWN IT!

Stolen Innocence

His mother lay on the ground, unmoving. The small three-year-old looked with fear to the man that did it, the man with red eyes.

He pointed his want to one of the child's new sisters. They had in fact, just turned one on the chilly night in late August.

"Avada Kedavera." The man hissed. A get of green light hit her, the baby slumped and her twin began bawling. The toddler fell from the shock and fear of what was happening, he didn't understand. The snake man turned to where the boy was, and had been the whole time.

The man rose his wand again and sad the words before letting out a high pitched laugh. With a fierce pain in his head, the boy woke.

He wasn't three anymore; he was eight and knew that he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. That was the day his life began to go down hill.

Everyone said that Iria Rose, the surviving twin, defeated the Dark Lord with only a scar on her shoulder. In actuality, that was where a piece of the roof struck her. Harry had a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. His parents told him that it was a dark sign for killing his sister, Rebecca.

At first, Harry was too scared to tell the truth, but then no one cared. Now he had a little brother, Markus, who was almost four and his mum was due with another any day now. Iria was five and soaking in the attention, getting taught magic already by his parents and everyone loved her. Both Harry and Markus knew that she was the favorite. But Markus was also spoiled and Sirius Black was his godfather. Remus Lupin was Iria' godfather and Sirius was also Harry's but the man didn't care about Harry. No one cared about Harry. He had been moved out of his old room and into the room with the house elves, Mickey and Minnie, his mum was partial to Disney and those two characters.

Harry held his hand out in to the dark room and a small ball of flames arrived and gathered into his hand. The eldest child never told anyone about his gift of elemental magic, though it was only fire. He worked on perfecting his skills, but as he was teaching himself, it was slow moving.

"Minnie, can you teach me how to cook?" He asked. He liked learning things and he had a feeling that he would need these skills when he got older.

"Yes young master, Minnie teach, but young master not cook. Minnie cook." She squeaked.

"All right, that works for me." Harry said, smiling. He followed the elf to the kitchen where what everything in there was explained to him. Then as she and Mickey made breakfast, he watched from the side, taking mental notes about what the food looked like in the process of being made. When it was done, Harry ran upstairs to the dinning table and sat down in his seat. It was on the side of the long table and next to the head where his father sat. Next to him was his mother's seat and across from her was Markus' seat. The side across from his dad was Iria's spot, the other head.

He was first that day and all of the food was laid out and under a charm that kept it as if it was just fro the kitchens until it hit the plate, only then was it aloud to cool.

The young boy grabbed a piece of bacon and nibbled on it so he could wait to eat until the others came in. The house elves had made him change and wash his hands before entering the dinning room so he was ready to eat.

His large mother was the first to arrive and Harry was ignored when he said 'Good morning' to her, he always was. Then his father came down shortly followed by his tired siblings. The moment everyone was seated, Harry began putting food on his plate.

"Mummy! I wanted that piece of bacon and he's taking all the GOOD stuff!" Iria whined.

"It's all the same, Iria." Harry protested. He knew that Iria only said that to get him in trouble.

"Iria hunny, here, you can have his plate." Lily said after Harry took the bacon that his sister was complaining about. He scowled as he had to refill a new plate and he quickly ate his food.

"May I be excused?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but get ready to leave, you need to help em get baby stuff." James said. Harry nodded and ran to his room to run a comb through his hair, though it didn't really matter.

When he was done, he brushed his teeth and finished getting ready. His father was already waiting for him, as he was already ready before breakfast. The pair flooed to a child's store and they immediately started looking for stuff. While Harry was looking at the toys, his father had walked off. He turned around and looked through the isle, seeing only a man he didn't know.

"Dad?" He called, scared. "Da-" A hand covered his mouth tightly to where he could hardly breath. He struggled to get loose as tears welled up.

"Shh, be quiet and I might let you live." The man hissed into his ear. The man grabbed his hand tight enough so that he lost feeling in it. He pulled him towards the fire and Harry cried even more.

"Dad! Daddy help!" He screamed as he was pulled into the fire. The man picked him up by his arms and held him up at his level when they arrived to their destination.

"I told you to keep you fucking mouth shut, you little shit, now you're going to get a little lesson." The man hissed, throwing the small body into the steps. Harry screamed as fire raced through his arm. "Crucio!" Harry screamed again as the most horrible pain ran through his body. After what seemed like forever, the curse ended and everything went black.

The young child soon came to know a world where time's only meaning was to tell how long he would live. He was always in pain, always hurting. He could only guess that he had been in this prison for about a year, maybe more, but most likely not less.

He grew to where he could see well in the darkness and his eyes adapted to fast changes of light.

Blake was the name of the man holding him. Long dark blonde hair covered his head; he had a mustache and bushy eyebrows. Sunken yellow eyes glared murderously at him. The face, full and slightly round, looked like it was once handsome, but it was wasted away. He stood twice as tall as the boy and was stocky from his muscles. The boy found out he was a werewolf and the man told him that if he got rid of the stress and anger on him, then the transformation wouldn't be as bad. He's heard the wolf howling about twelve to fifteen times and that was the only way the child could tell how long he had been held for.

Harry huddled in the corner of the small room, hoping for warmth and comfort. He had long ago realized that he couldn't get any, but instinct made him look for it. He couldn't stand anymore from weakness and pain. His head felt too heavy to lift. He only got fed about twice a day and it was so uneven that he couldn't time his stay by that. Tremors racked his body from being under the curse 'crucio'. He didn't know the name of the curse, only the words and the effect.

"Boy? Is there a child in here? Blake told me about a boy! Could you come out? I have some horrible news." A voice called. Harry didn't answer, only tried to hide. "Boy?" The man's voice called again. Doors opened and the nine-year-old could tell that the man was looking for him. Then his door opened and the light was turned on. He looked up to see a man with brown hair and a kind face, morphed into a look of horror. The man had one amber eye and one hazel eye.

The man walked quickly to the youth and picked the slight frame up, despite the whimper and flinch. "What happened? What's your name?"

"Harry. Harry Potter." He said weakly.

"Did Blake do this?" A nod. "He died, was killed by some one that hated werewolves." He said.

"He's mean." Harry whimpered.

"I'll take you to get healed, then take you to your parents." He said as he carried the boy out.

Brian took Harry to his cottage away from people and spent the next week fixing the boy up and building his strength. Harry was cared about for the first time in a long time by an adult and he found that he liked it.

"Now, I know where they live, so I will take you there tomorrow." The man said. Harry nodded, still weary of adults, especially werewolves.

The next day, he was brought to a medium sized house and walked up the drive. Brian rang the bell and the door was opened by a man, his father.

"Yes?" He asked.

"I have returned your son."

"What are you talking about?" James asked. Harry felt stung by this, he had hoped his family would be happy to see him and maybe even like him more.

"Your son, Harry. You are James Potter are you not?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I'm him. But I'm not sure I know of a- oh yeh! Hm. Forgot about him." He said offhandedly. "Would that be him?" He asked, pointing to the nine-year-old.

"Yes, he was very hurt and he needs to take it easy for a while." He added.

"Yes, yes, thank you for returning him." James said as he pulled the boy in. "Would you request any pay?" He asked.

"No, that's all right. My pay will be that he's all right, poor boy." Brian said.

"Don't worry my wife and I will make sure that he's taken care of. I bid you good day." James said. "Now, today is Tyler's first birthday, so don't ruin it for him." He said when the werewolf was gone. "Everyone, Harry's back." He said when he got back to the others. "Now, where did we leave off?" He asked, leaving the frightened boy in favor of sitting next to his youngest son.

"Well, Tyler just opened Uncle Padfoot's present." Lily said happily. Harry moved to the closest corner and sat as far in as he could, trying to hide from the five adults and, if he could, the four children. One was Sirius' only child, a girl. She was three, he thought.

"Then he only has a few left, then cake and ice cream!" James said in a baby voice to the baby.

Harry watched as they finished with the presents. "Everyone ready?" Sirius' wife asked. All of the children cheered, except Harry, he got up, weary of the others and followed everyone into the dinning room, where there was eight chairs and a high chair. All of the chairs were taken and Harry paused in the doorway. Then nine-year-old didn't know what to do, but no one seemed to notice that he wasn't in a seat.

Harry felt hurt that they hadn't seen him in a year and now they already forgot about him. He cautiously approached his mum as his faith in men had gone down hill. He lightly tugged on her sleeve and almost ran away when she jumped. She gave a small cry before exhaling heavily.

"Don't DO that. You about scared me to death." She hissed as she clutched her chest. "Well?" She asked.

"May I have some ice cream?" He asked hesitantly. "Please?" He added with a small bit of hope.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we just had all of it separated before the party, we don't have any left." She said. Harry just looked up at her with wide green eyes as she said this. When she finished, his head was lowered and he nodded his head sadly. "Why don't you just head off to bed, then. I'm sure the house-elves didn't get rid of your stuff, all right?" She asked, petting his cheek before patting his head slightly.

"Is he a puppy mum? Come here puppy." Iria asked spitefully, a mean smile of her face.

"No, this is your brother, remember? He got lost a year ago." Lily explained. "Now go onto bed; maybe ask Minnie if she could give you a small snack." Harry nodded and left. "You still have the room you had when you left!" His mum called before joining in with the laughter again. When Harry was out of sight, he ran as quickly as he could to his room before falling on his bed, crying.

"I thought they might like me more if they knew I was okay. Why don't they like me? I bet f they knew what really happened, they wouldn't spend so much time with Iria and Markus." He whimpered softly. "They wouldn't believe me though, would they? Maybe they really do just hate me." He said to himself. "Is that why that werewolf took me? Because everyone hates me?" He questioned. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'll show them. I'll let them see that I can be just, no, better than them. I'll be the best, then they would have to like me." He swore before getting up and practicing his fire magic, all tears gone. He was determined to make his parents see how good he could be.

He called the house elves and asked them to bring his parents' old school books. The young boy began to read all of the books, from front to back. Everyday he would practice his fire magic in the morning, learn with the house elves, then eat before going flying, though he stayed away from where James was teaching Iria and Markus, both were hopeless. He would fly and read up on flying and quidditch until lunch. After lunch, he would read about magic, starting with the first year and working his way up, only practicing the spells and charms after reading the whole book. Then he would go to dinner, after another lesson with the house elves, before practicing with fire again, and finally he went to sleep.

Sometimes, he would have to watch the younger boys, though Markus wouldn't listen to him and Tyler just played with him. When he was left alone with Tyler, he would use his fire to entertain the boy, though he made extra sure that the fire wasn't hot so that the boy wasn't hurt.