D/C Let me say it in simple English: me no own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. It's as simple as that.


He really was a quiet and unassuming little child; a well behaved boy, as a matter of fact. Regardless of what the neighbors believed (of the rumors that his aunt and uncle had spread) he was not in fact a delinquent. He was polite and courteous, and he never complained; and he did not throw tantrums or throw things around when the things in life didn't go his way. If anything, he was a lovely child...

So why, then, was he so unloved?

Was it because he was an orphan, born from parents of shame? Was it the things that kept happening around him, when he was sad or angry, alone and afraid? Or was there something really wrong with him, something unusual, as Uncle Vernon always claimed? Did it really matter? Perhaps it didn't. He had no friends, no mentors, and no family to tell him any different...And so he had learned to accept it all the same. He accepted it as he accepted the loneliness of his life...But he hated it. Hated it, but loved it; for the loneliness was his shield.

Anyone who cared to notice would've been appalled by the signs of neglect that troubled the boy. He was small and skinny, obviously underfed, and he appeared distinctly miserable dressed in clothes more appropriate for rags. It was no small wonder that the round rim glasses stayed perched on his nose; they were barely held in place by layer upon layer of yellowing tape, a new layer for each time his cousin came and cracked him across the nose. Whenever he was allowed to leave the house he had a tendency to hit the ground running; Dudley and his gang were just certain to follow, hounding him at every step. Getting away was his only option; getting caught meant a round of kicks, a beat down, and bruised ribs, and returning home led to being tossed in the cupboard (with no meals for a week), as punishment for 'starting the fight.' Despite the crushing weight of sadness within and the raging bitterness of his heart, Harry Potter did not frown, nor did he cry to the rest of the world. But he never smiled; he was a lovely child, but he never smiled.

And so it was that things came to pass. No one really noticed the boy's unloved state, and for those who had sworn to protect him, that mightn't have been for the best. For it was a culmination of events during the summer of '91 when a young and innocent wizard truly discovered himself.

A/N: Short prologue for a little experiment I thought up one night when I had trouble sleeping in bed. I never thought I'd be actually doing this...So if interest is good, I'll be happy to go straight away at this fic. If not, well, no loss!

Probably not a DARK Harry fic, but not a naive Mr. Nice guy either. I must admit, I'm a kind of rusty at this. Hoping to add the first chapter in a day or two, a week tops. Whether it's good or bad, press that lil button in the corner and review! Just don't shoot the fic out of the sky, before it's even begun. Don't even think about asking for pairings; you can try to influence my hand (despite previous warning, please do!), but I think I've already decided who I'm going to pick. Not Hermoine, Ginny, or Cho; nope, nope, to many of those; that just wouldn't do. So review, okays? Okay. Thanks for readin'!

P.S. Beta not required, but it might be nice...