Harry Potter and St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys:

Author's Note: Hi, this is my first story, so I hope you like it. Feel free to review and tell me what you think. Please note that the next upload may take a while, as I would like to get a rough draft for a few more chapters typed first that way you will not have to wait as long later, hopefully. This is a rather short chapter is just sets up for the rest of the story, the other chapters will be longer. Please bear with me as I get use to the system. Thank you, Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does and she is nice enough to let us borrow her material. I do not have any money but if you want to sue please feel free to help yourself to my debt from student loans.

RATED M, This story contains rape, abuse and cutting

Thank you The Epitome of Eccentricity for acting as my Beta for this chapter. Also thank you to everyone who is still reading this and has taken the time to leave a review or PM me.

The Beginning (Revised)

Vernon Dursley resident of number 4 Private Drive, Surrey England woke up to his wife's horrified screech. "What is Wrong Pet?" the rotund man asked, concerned.

"Th-th… That that boy has been dumped on our doorstep by one of them FREAKS!" Petunia shrieked

"W… what? Get rid of it. I'll not have that- that freakishness here in our house. No, it has to go!" Vernon bellowed.

"But what would the neighbors say? We can't just abandon him, what if one of them comes looking for him?" Petunia said hesitantly, not really wanting the boy but not knowing what to do about it. She was perfectly normal, thank you very much. The last thing she wanted was to raise the spawn of her freakish sister, but she didn't have a choice; the letter said she had to take him, or more of those freaks would show up and kill her, no they wouldn't get her Dudders!

And so it was that little Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world came to live with his aunt and uncle at number 4 Private Drive. Harry grew up unwanted and unloved, for his relatives never really wanted him. He was everything that they hated, and feared. Not that little Harry knew this, or understood why his family hated him they just did, so he accepted it. After all there had to be some reason for how they treated him. They didn't treat Dudley like him, but he was their precious little baby boy. Harry snorted; to him he looked more like a baby elephant. He didn't know how that worked, seeing as Aunt Petunia looked like a horse, and Uncle Vernon looked like a walrus. Maybe that was just a mix of them together? Not that Harry shared these thoughts with anyone. He had learned from a young age to keep his thoughts to himself, lest Uncle give him another beating. He was still sore from the one he received earlier that week; he hadn't meant to float the dishes; he did even know how he'd done it. He was trying to reach them and they had stated to float towards him. He knew he must have done it. He was always responsible for any freakish business, as his Aunt and Uncle called it. That's why he was here in his cupboard again.

He had given up saying that he did not mean to, or that he did not know what happened. It just meant that he went without food for the day unless his Uncle was in a bad mood, then it could be three. Just like he no longer cried or begged for his Uncle to not beat him- it just made the beatings worse, and meant he had more chores to do later when he was let out of the cupboard. No, he couldn't show any weakness, as it just made things worse.

Harry woke with a groan. It was his fifth birthday, and he hated his birthdays. Dudley would make a point of chasing him so he could give him a birthday beating. Then his Uncle would give him another beating for having to put up with him for another year. Petunia always gave him an impossible list of chores that he was expected to complete if he was lucky or unlucky enough (depending on how you wanted to look at it) to remain conscious for the beating. He then had to force himself to move, and hope that he hadn't broken anything he would need, like a leg, and try to complete all the chores. His aunt said it was to make up for all that they did for him. Ha, like they did anything, and today would be no different. Little did he know that today was the day everything would change.

"BOY GET UP! NOW!" His Aunt yelled at him, unlocking the cupboard. He got up quickly, not wanting to waste time. He did not need another beating for failing to do all of his chores. Going to the kitchen he pulled out a package of bacon and the carton of eggs putting them in a frying pan, before going to make a pot of coffee. His cousin thundered down the stairs, lured by the smell of breakfast.

"Hurry up, I want food!" Dudley demanded pushing him as he went by. He bit back a yell as his hand had landed on the burner; he would have to sneak some peroxide later. His aunt did not use it anymore, as she claimed it was too harsh to use on her darling little Dudders. The thought made him want to gag, but at least it made it easier to nick.

"Where's my breakfast!" Uncle Vernon thundered entering the kitchen, and jerking him out of his thoughts.

"Coming Uncle" he said grabbing a plate to put the bacon and eggs on. He had done this so often that he no longer had to really pay attention as long as he kept an eye on the time so it wouldn't burn. He brought the food to the table, and his Uncle and Cousin wolfed down the food, not even pausing to breathe as his Aunt ate at a more sedate pace. He washed the frying pans as they ate, grabbing the few scrapes in the pan as they were busy eating. Uncle Vernon finished eating and left for work and Dudley went to visit his friend Aunt Petunia gave him a list of chores.

"I want all of those done by the time Vernon comes home for work. If not, I'll let him deal with your laziness, and don't even think about stealing our food, Boy! I'll be back later I'm going out with Mrs. Mason, and won't be back until after lunch, if Dudley asks. You better not break anything!" With that he was left to complete his chores. Looking down at the list, he saw: Dishes, clean kitchen, laundry, wash floors, weed garden, water garden, paint the shed, clean Dudley's rooms, clean washrooms, clean family room, vacuum upstairs and downstairs, clean Attic, make dinner, clean dishes. How was he going to finish all of this today?! He started with the dishes and the kitchen as was already there, washing the counters, and cupboards after the dishes were cleaned and put away. He then decided he would paint the shed before it got too hot outside, grabbing the cans of brown paint and varnish from the garage. By the time the varnish had been put on the shed it was nine thirty. Since the front of the shed was dry, he grabbed the can of paint to paint it. He then painted the door, and finally painted the right side of the shed. He would have to wait for the rest of the varnish to dry before he could finish this chore. He put the varnish in the garage, and he then started to weed the garden. It was a mess! Someone had trampled on the flowers. With a sigh he started to pull out the weeds, putting the dirt that had been displaced around the flowers as he went. By the time he had finished the shed had dried and he could finish painting it. He grabbed a paintbrush and the can of paint and finished painting the shed. As he went to put the paint away he grabbed the hose, and saw that it was twelve thirty. He was glad that Dudley was away and his Aunt was out for lunch- it was one less chore to do. As he watered the garden, he greedily drank as much water as he could trying to cool off and fill is stomach so he would not be so hungry. Going inside, he grabbed the mop and vacuum to clean the floors, before gathering the laundry and putting the first load into the wash. By the time he was done cleaning the floors and vacuuming, the laundry was done. It was now two thirty and he had three more hours before his Uncle got home. The chores would never be finished in time. Just then, his aunt got home.

"Boy, come down here and put away the groceries!" Her shrill voice carried through the house. Putting away the groceries, he grabbed the cleaning supplies from his cupboard and went to clean the washroom. He would nick the peroxide while he was cleaning and store it in the cupboard with the rest of the cleaning supplies when he was done. He hurriedly went to clean the family room. He had cleaned it yesterday too, his aunt was a neat freak, so at least there was not much to do. He still had to clean Dudley's rooms, clean the Attic, and make dinner, and he only had two hours left before Vernon came home! Dudley's rooms took an hour by themselves, his cousin was such a pig. How anyone could make such a mess in so little time he would never understand. Deciding he better clean the attic next, he went upstairs. There were boxes everywhere, and it was so dusty, this would take more than an hour, he knew he was going to get another beating; at least he had managed to avoid his cousin, seeing as he had been inside for most of the day. Dusting everything off he started putting boxes on the shelves, it was hot up here, he wished there was a window. He wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of Dudley's old t-shirt. Reading the label on one of the boxes he paused, staring in shock for the label read: Lily's Things. His Aunt hated his mom, so why would she have a box of her things, and why hadn't he noticed the box before? Shrugging, he opened it eager to see what was inside. He found a few stuffed toys and some children's books before coming across what looked like a set of unlabeled work books, picking one at random he opened it. Not work books, diaries! He started reading:

Dear dairy, my name is Lily Evans and it is my eleventh birthday! I got the oddest letter. It was delivered by an owl and it said I was a Witch! Imagine, magic is real, WOW I can't wait to go to the school called Hogwarts; it said I was accepted in the letter. Severus always said that I was magical but I couldn't believe it 'till today. I can't wait to tell him, we'll be going together! I really want to get my wand. Sev said that I'm a muggleborn, cause my parents aren't magical, and that he's a half blood cause his mom is magical while his dad isn't, I don't like his dad, he yells a lot. He also said that there are purebloods that come from purely magical families, and that some of them won't like me. Stupid Prigs! I can't wait to start learning magic! Petunia didn't seem too thrilled though, she called me a freak. I hope she's just upset that I'm leaving to go to a different school, and she didn't mean it. I'll miss her. Mom and Dad are so proud of me. I'll miss them too. I can't wait to tell you what I've learned! Bye.

'What, magic is real, but Uncle Vernon always said that there was no such thing. But Mom wouldn't make that up... Wait, Aunt Petunia knew! So that's why she says I'm a freak, I must be magical too. I wonder if her diaries have more information. Maybe I can sneak them down without anyone noticing.' He grabbed the dairies and stuffed them under his shirt before heading to his cupboard he quickly stored them in the back under Dudley's old clothes where they couldn't be reached. Then he headed to the kitchen, to make dinner. Just then Vernon walked in.

"Hi Petunia, have a nice day?" Vernon asked her, giving her a peck on the lips, and heading towards the kitchen. Turning around he set his eyes on Harry who was just starting dinner.

"Boy, why haven't you finished dinner? Thought you could slack off huh, well I'll not have you lazing about you ungrateful little freak. After everything we've done for you, even kept you for another year, and you repay us like this." Vernon yelled at him cuffing him across the head, and sending him into the stove.

"I'll deal with you after dinner" he threatened an angry gleam in his eyes, along with an unholy glee at the thought of hurting the small boy.

"Go down stairs, if you're going to punish him Vernon, I'll not have his blood on the floor, and I don't want him screaming, the neighbors will gossip." Petunia stated.

Trying not to show his fear, Harry served dinner, and cleaned up. Once he was finished he was dragged down the stairs by his Uncle who then proceeded to lock the basement door.


"Hope you enjoy your birthday present Freak; we're going to do something new." His uncle grinned sadistically at him. With that, a piece of duct tape was placed over his mouth and his rags were ripped off. His wrists were tied together with a piece of rope, cutting off his circulation. He was thrown to the ground and his uncle took off his belt brining the metal side down on his back, drawing blood, and opening up the old wounds, the pus oozed mixing with the blood. Again and again the belt hit him; he lost count after twenty, and just focused on trying to breath. Finally his uncle stopped, but it didn't end there, he got out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one on fire before pressing it into his leg. He would have screamed, it hurt so badly, but all that came out was a muffled whimper that his uncle didn't hear. Eventually his uncle got bored and pulled out his pocket knife. Harry squirmed trying to get away, but to no avail, he was too weak from the chores, blood loss and lack of food, and he was already small for his age and looked to be about three, he didn't have a chance. His uncle cut designs into him, and words saying that he deserved it. The word FREAK was cut into his back, as a reminder of what he was. Finally when his back was covered in blood his uncle stopped, and smiled savagely at him.

"I have a surprise for you Boy" he grinned happily at the bleeding form of his nephew, "you're going to like this" Harry's eyes widened in horror whatever his uncle had planned it wasn't good. This was proven as his uncle unzipped his pants; Harry shut his eyes not wanting to know what was coming. It burned and he screamed tears rolling down his face for the first time in years, it felt like he was being split in two. His Uncle let out a moan pumping in and out of him.

"Ohhh, so tight, such a bad boy, take it all, you like this don't you, you little slut. Feels so good." His Uncle thrust into him, his blood acting like a lubricant, finally his Uncle released his seed, and he pulled out, cleaning himself off and getting dressed. Giving Harry a vicious kick to the ribs, satisfied when he heard a crack he left. Harry lay there crying his arms still bound and his mouth duct taped, glad it was over, and he passed out.


When Harry awoke he had been freed, but was still covered in dried blood. Laying there staring at the ceiling he assessed the damage. His wrists were bleeding from where the rope had cut into them, and his ribs were sore, at least one was broken or cracked, by the feel of it, and his legs burned from the cigarette butts. His back hurt like hell, and felt really raw, he hoped he had skin left. His lower back and ass hurt, oh, his cheeks went red at the memory, but he refused to cry. There was no way he could have prevented it, and no matter what his Uncle had said he had not wanted it. He had long ago learned not to listen to his so-called family when they said those things; if he did he would be a total wreck. He still wondered why they did this to him, what had he done, they didn't treat Dudley like this, so it must be his fault. Wait, his mother's diary, he could do magic! If only he could heal himself, oh well maybe her diary mentioned how to. Getting up he pulled on his shirt wincing as pain shot through his side and back.

"Boy, get up, and go take a shower. I'll not have you covered in filth when we have guests over for supper. You will help make dinner and then you are to stay in the cupboard for the rest of the week, and don't make any noise!" Aunt Petunia screeched. Harry took a step forward suppressing a cry as pain shot through his side from his ribs. Slowly he made his way to his cupboard to get some of Dudley's old castoffs before heading to the washroom. Turning on the tap he undressed, wincing as his shirt stuck to his back. The cold water felt good on his skin cleaning away the blood, and grime. He grabbed a face cloth and started to scrub letting his tears fall silently and mingle with the water. He felt so dirty, like he would never be clean again. His Uncle was right he was filthy, no one could love him; who would love used goods? The water ran pink from the blood, as he stepped out of the shower and got dressed. He made his way back to the cupboard, letting the door shut behind him. Knowing that he wouldn't be disturbed he grabbed the bottle of peroxide and took off his shirt. Grabbing a pair of Dudley's underwear that he never used he ripped the thin material into pieces and applied peroxide to one of them. Holding the damp cloth he applied it to his back as best as he could, then grabbed a few more strips, and tied them over the wounds. The makeshift bandages should hold, and the blood hopefully would not seep through the shirt he was wearing. He couldn't do anything for his ribs; he just hoped that they would heal soon. He always healed fast, faster than normal people. He had always thought that it was because of his freakishness, but maybe it was because he was magical? He grabbed his mother's dairy and began to read, eager to know what she had written. The book covered much of her childhood, and he was surprised that his Mother and Aunt had gotten along before she got her letter.

Harry was trapped in his cupboard for a week without food, not that he minded. He was hungry, yes, but he had gone longer without food, and it gave him time to look through his mother's dairies. He read about her getting her letter, and buying her Hogwarts stuff. He was surprised to learn that the entrance to Diagon Alley was on Charington Cross Road, in a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. He also learned that he would need a wand to do any magic. Or at least, any magic that wasn't accidental. Maybe he could learn to control his accidental magic, somehow. He would have to look into it. His mother went through her times at Hogwarts, her fighting with a boy, he assumed was his father, James Potter, and his fellow Gryffindor friends. Her friendship with Severus, even though he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor; the classes sounded neat, he liked the way she described potions, it reminded him of cooking. By the third day in his cupboard, he could tell by the sounds of his relatives getting up in the morning and going to bed at night, he had read all about his mother's first five years in Hogwarts. He had also come across something called wandless magic, it was very rare, but apparently if a wizard, or witch was strong enough they could do magic without a wand if the concentrated hard enough. Harry frowned; her description of wandless magic was very vague, but seeing as he didn't have a wand that was the only type of magic he could do that wasn't accidental. What could he practice on, the diary said that he needed to focus and concentrate on what he wanted to happen. He really wanted his ribs to heal, so that would be a good place to start, he was already focused on them because of the pain. Focusing on, the site of the pain, he pictured the bones knitting back together, and concentrated on the feeling that he had felt when his hair grew back. He had already figured out that all of the odd incidents that happened around him when he was scared, or angry was accidental magic, so he hoped that on concentrating on who that had felt, he could use the magic more purposely. He felt a sharp pain in his side, than the pain disappeared touching his side he was happy to find out that it had worked! He didn't feel any pain, Harry's vision swam suddenly and he passed out.

When Harry woke up it was night again, or at least he assumed it was, there was no light under the door, and he could not hear anyone moving around. How long had he been unconscious for? He still felt exhausted, but he no longer hurt. Pulling of his shirt, he looked at his makeshift bandages, they were soaked with blood but at least they had held. He started to pull the cloth off wincing when it got stuck, it was sore yes, but nothing like it had been before he passed out. He finished removing the bandages and looked down, suppressing a gasp. The wounds were gone! The scars were still there and new ones had formed, but he was healed! What? How? It didn't make sense- wait! He had healed his ribs, he remembered wanting the pain to go away and hoping his magic worked, and it did! He was a wizard! He had been trying to heal his ribs though, so why had everything else healed? Creasing his brow he tried to remember what the dairy had said, he had to focus and really concentrate on what he wanted, of course he had wanted to heal, and for the pain to go away. He hadn't been focusing only on his ribs, so he must have healed everything. Wow, magic was so awesome; he wondered what else he could do. Trying to focus on growing his hair, he figured it would be easy, he had already done it once by accident, it couldn't be that much harder to do it on purpose. Trying to summon the tingly feeling he had gotten when he healed himself, he pictured his hair growing longer. He felt the tingly feeling again, it reminded him of pins and needles in a way, but he only felt it briefly then it stopped, he felt dizzy and black spots swam in his vision. Looking at his hair he noticed that it had not grown at all. Curious as to why he shrugged; there was not anything he could do about it now. He felt really drained, and he was so tired. With a huge yawn he fell back asleep.

"Boy get up! Now!" Harry woke to his aunt pounding on the cupboard door, and the click of the lock opening. He was have slept longer than he thought. He still felt exhausted though, and dizzy.