Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and Co. Any unrecognizable material is claimed by me.

Prologue

"Headmaster – you can't. I've been watching them all day. They're the worst sort of muggles imaginable. Can't you find a nice wizarding home where he can grow up with people that adore him?"

"Minerva, it is better for him to grow up away from all that. The wards are held in place by the blood shared between Harry and his aunt. I simply won't allow him to be harmed." Blue eyes twinkled sternly over half moon glasses.

"You-Know-Who is gone, Albus. He would be much safer at Hogwarts or –"

The headmaster cut her off, "Voldemort is not truly gone, Minerva. He has undergone so many rituals that he is not fully human anymore; he cannot be destroyed so easily."

Minerva was at a loss. Her sternly pinned-up hair was slightly frazzled. She glanced at Number 4, Privet Drive again. "You can't, Albus. They're absolutely horrible."

"I will, Minerva. Arabella is not far away if he is ever in need." He started walking, shifting a small bundle in his arms. Minerva looked desperately at the child in the headmaster's arms before sighing and silently conceding.

The stars danced quietly against the inky black sky as Harry Potter was set down carefully onto the front doorstep of his relatives' house. Dumbledore gazed at him silently before pulling an addressed envelope from his robes and placing it carefully inside Harry's basket.

"Come, Minerva. There will be celebrations tomorrow and we need our rest." He hurried her along, coming to stop at the shadowed corner of the street. They winked out of existence after one final look at the new home of the wizarding world's savior.


"Boy! Get down here and get your lunch!"

From somewhere upstairs, a quiet voice answered the call. A small, lithe body came bolting down the stairs, skidding to a halt at their end and moving at a much more sedate pace towards the dining room. The door swung open with a light tap and he wandered into the room. Its sole occupant, a rather bony, long-faced woman, beckoned him over. She shoved a bag roughly into his hands and turned him about.

He wore a loose set of clothes; obviously not his own. Dark emerald eyes were set onto a delicately slender face under thick lashes and thin eyebrows. A small nose and a pair of cupid's-bow lips added to his femininity. Dark locks framed his face, tapering down to his mid-back in smooth, but messy, waves.

"It will have to do. Now, boy, I expect you back here straight after school, no hanging about today." The boy was staring out the window, one hand tightly clenching his small lunch, the other absently stroking the cover of a worn book. "Boy? Harry!" Eyes snapped up to meet her own. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

"Get to school. And keep out of Dudley's way."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry left, grabbing the black pack by the door.


Harry lay curled beneath a spreading oak tree, book open, pages flicking by rapidly as he read. It was lunch time, the other children raced by, ignoring him as they fooled about. He dutifully remained away from Dudley and his gang, gathering his things quickly and retreating into the school as they made their way over to him.

It was the second to last day of school. A long awaited day in Harry's opinion; his peers were too, well, childish, to carry on an intriguing conversation. Sure, he was very quiet as it was, tending to stay out of view and mind, but some social interaction was pleasant. Although, the only ones able of following his train of thought were far older than him and could care less about the ideas of a child less than half their age. The only worthwhile conversationalists for him in school were the librarian and his science teacher. And of course, occupational expectation and decorum held them from speaking to any student with equality. Very few could hold intelligent arguments nowadays.

Such is life.


A/N: Well... the plot bunny bit me... in the thigh actually. It's quite a large wound. Any suggestions would be helpful... I haven't actually got a plot for thie yet... but we'll see what happens. Oh! And any ideas for TBB would be great because I lost any ounce of inspiration I had for it.

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