I'm typing this story with three different goals. One to kill time, two to educate you, and three to see the out come of this story.

The first chapter might be dull. But I'll get better. And its my first Harry Potter story give me a break.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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A lone figure walked down Private Drive on a cold November night.

He sighed to himself. Yesterday had been Halloween, and in the middle of that Halloween night a man tried to kill a child. That child was now an orphan. And the man died.

All day wizards had celebrated the death of the Dark Lord. Voldemort. Not giving a second thought to the two whom had given there life away to save a child. No one thought of the fate of the child they now praised like a god.

The figure, Albus Dumbledore, stopped in front of a house. Number four Privet Drive. The house looked the same as every other house in the within a good two miles. White with a gray roof, perfectly cut lawn, white fence, a few flowers here and there. It would make a normal person sick to look at it. But then again, Albus was never a normal man.

A cat approached the lone man and transformed into a stern looking women clad in green robes. Her stern face looked rather displeased. It was understandable, she had sat in front of what some people would call a cookie cutter house (1) all day.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore." The stern women greeted.

"I should have known you would be here Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore replied.

"Are the rumors I heard true?"

"Yes," the man replied gravely. "The good and the bad."

"And the boy?"

"Hagrid is bringing him."

"Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" McGonagall asked unsurely.

"Ah, Professor I would trust Hagrid with my life." The older man replied.

At that moment a large light appeared in the sky followed by the noise of a motorcycle. Both the Professors looked up to see a red flying motorcycle. Driving the motorcycle was a rather large man, the man was clothe in what seemed to be a rather large brown trench coat, the mans scruffy beard and equally scruffy hair blew in the wind as he steered the bike down toward the earth and landed right before the two professors. The man stepped of the bike, "Professor Dumbledore sir, McGonagall" he greeted.

"You had no problems I trust Hagrid." Dumbledore asked politely.

"No sir.." Hagrid started walking towards the Professors. "He fell asleep while we were flying." Hagrid glanced down at a bundle handing from around his torso. "I tried not to wake him." He then handed the baby over to Dumbledore. "Here you go."

Dumbledore took hold of the baby and started towards the house behind him. McGonagall quickly followed behind him. "Now Albus." She stared with a desperate voice. "Do you really think its safe?" She paused and looked at the house with a stern glare. "These people I watched them all day, they are the worst muggles imaginable. They…" she did not get to finish.

"Are the only family he has." Dumbledore cut her off.

McGonagall use her wit in a last attempt to change his mind. "This child will be famous. There won't be a child who does not know his name."

"Yes." Dumbledore replied. "He is far better off growing away from all that fame….until he is ready." McGonagall winched, her plan had backfired. She watched as Albus placed the baby gently on the doorstep of number four Privet Drive.

Hagrid at this point started sobbing quietly. "There, there Hagrid…" Dumbledore turned to him. "Its not really good-bye after all."

Hagrid nodded to the professor. And watched as Dumbledore placed a letter on top of the sleeping baby boy that sleep slightly on the door-step. And with that and one final look at the baby the three adults left the baby there on the door-step waiting to be found by his aunt and uncle when they awoke.

Unfortunately for the baby on the door-step it was There o'clock am so that would not be for a good four hours. And if that was not bad enough for the poor thing it was the middle of fall in a country that got rather could and the only thing covering him was a rather tattered looking blanket. And what was probably the worst part for the baby was that the wizards where completely ignorant of fine science and psychology. Other wise the wizard would have probably been aware that due to the trauma that the young baby had been threw in the last two days and the cold weather being exposed to his body for more then a few hours with little warmth could be dangerous to a growing child's brain waves and could cause a change in brain waves. (2)

Thus starting a mental disorder for Harry Potter.

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Chapter one

A genius and his best friend

A ten-year old Harry Potter sat on his bed in the smallest room of number four Privet Drive. He smiled to himself as he closed his book, The Hunchback of Notre Dame By Victor Hugo, and placed it on the side table next to his twin bed.

It had been ten years since his aunt Petunia had found him on the door-step while fetching the milk. At first his relatives had been angry and scornful to him. They refused to feed him more then absolutely necessary to keep him alive and made him do all the chores by himself. And like had nothing but scornful words to him. But come his fourth birthday and the start of kindergarten that changed. The teachers came to the Dursleys with wide grins. They told the Dursleys that Harry showed signs of high functioning autism, the same type of autism Albert Einstein had, and talked about the benefits of having an autistic child in the house hold.

After that the Dursleys attitude toward Harry had changed. They had moved him out of the cupboard and into Dudley's second bed room, Dudley had not been happy about this. So for six years when ever a autism program had come up, such as suffers for autism, Harry and Dudley would go. Dudley went because Harry was allowed to bring someone the child felt comfortable around to. This was because most autistic children did not have friends and either preferred to be alone or had trouble with socialization.

Harry smiled to himself some more. Dudley was the only person in the world that Harry had even tried to keep as a true companion. This had stunned Dudley greatly. But more then that it had made him angry.

It had infuriated Dudley at first that when ever he had his gang chase Harry, Harry would not run, that when he would punch Harry, Harry would just smile at him and take the hit, or that when he insulted Harry, Harry would just smile and laugh with him. Harry never got mad at Dudley, not once, and that just made Dudley angrier. But what made him the most angry was when Harry told Dudley he was his best friend, that every year Harry would work around the neighborhood to earn money to buy Dudley something nice for his Birthday and Christmas, and that he would always take the blame for things Dudley did.

Dudley would never know whether Harry had planned it with a great deal of patients or whether Harry truly wanted Dudley to be his friend, but after the first three years of knowledge of Harry's autism Dudley felt something he never felt before. Guilt. Harry had only ever been nice to him. And he had been horrible. So the seven year old started to act nicer to Harry and even took him as his first non-gang-of-bullies friend. And Harry had become the holder of not only Dudley's trust but many of his secrets as well.

Soon Dudley had convinced his parents to buy Harry his own clothes rather then just wearing Dudley's over sided hand me downs. But they ran into a problem, Harry did not like the modern day clothing at all and continued to wear Dudley's old clothes. That was until a women named Ping opened a store in London. (3)

Miss Ping was a women from Tibet, whom traveled the world collecting things from every country, such as paintings, furniture, toys, etc. So she ended up opening a store to sell some of the artifacts now that she married and was planning on starting a family.

Harry took one look at the clothes and knew he had found his clothes store. It was less expensive then most modern clothes, and they were things he liked. Harry fell in love with this store. Where else in London could you find Japanese Yukata or an Egyptian turbans or jewels from India, or even a porcelain tea set hand made and hand painted in China.

That's when the second part of Harry's autism kicked in. Obsession. Obsession was one of the most important parts of autism. It is what makes there careers later in life. Some children would get obsessions with patterns some with politics. But one thing was for sure, that child would be successful. And Harry became obsessed with other countries. And he wanted to know everything about them, race, language, religion, cultures, everything. He would spend hours of his reading books about every country, soaking the information like a sponge with his photographic memory. Sometimes he would even forget to eat or sleep.

But the world was not Harry's only obsession. The fine arts was also part of his obsession. From acting to cooking to fine literature. And that's how he connected to aunt Petunia.

Harry could feel himself getting excited thinking about his adopted mother. Harry never had the chance to know his mother. And autistic children were always closest to there mothers. Only there mothers were allowed to hug and kiss them after the age of four. So not having a mother Harry turned to his aunt and claimed her as his mother.

Petunia whom always wanted a family member to go to ballets and plays with her embraced the opportunity, Dudley hated the arts and Vernon always feel asleep. Petunia soon became as close to Harry as she was to Dudley. They often spent hours talking about Shakespeare and the fine ballets of Tchaikovsky.

Harry stood from his bed and walked over to his dresser. It was a Chinese style dresser he brought form Miss Ping Years ago. Nailed to the wall on top the dresser was a mirror.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He had let his hair grown to about mid-back, as was tradition in most customs, only ever cutting the dead ends off to make it look healthy. He stared at his green slightly curved eyes. He had no need for glasses. He had perfect twenty-twenty vision.

Harry smiled to himself again. Today was Dudley's birthday. They were going to the zoo.

He looked down to the dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. "What should I wear today?" He thought to himself. He had to dress nice for Dudley today. What did he have that would attract the least stares.

He ended up pulling out traditional black Chinese style pants. And a traditional black Chinese style shirt with a silver asin style dragon on the back. And he pulled his hair in a low pony tail at the nape of his neck. This was the outfit least likely to gain attention. Its not like he was wearing his purple turban with the red fake ruby at the center. That got stares.

He opened the top drawer and pulled out a square gift, wrapped in blue wrapping paper, and topped with a green bow. Green and blue were Dudley's favorite colors.

He exited his room and started down the stairs. He glanced at the clock, six am. He should start breakfast.

He entered the kitchen and placed his gift to Dudley on the table. Harry started toward the stove. He pulled the bottom open and pulled out a pan. He would make bacon today and eggs. That's Dudley's favorite.

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out ten slices of bacon and twelve eggs. Dudley and Uncle Vernon would eat all the bacon themselves, mother and him didn't eat thing made out of pig meat. And Lord forbid if there wasn't enough eggs.

An hour later many thumping noises could be heard coming down the stairs. Harry smiled to himself again, Dudley has awoken. He always woke up earlier on his birthday.

Dudley entered the kitchen with a rather large smile on his face. "Morning Harry."

Harry tuned and smiled and waved at him. Harry never talked much, and when he did it was always of the utmost importance.

Dudley smiled even more at the sight of his favorite breakfast food. "Bacon?" Harry nodded. "Eggs?" Harry nodded again. Dudley looked around a little. "Presents?" Harry nodded again. "Forty-seven." Harry relied.

Dudley shrugged. "Mom and dad will buy me another to even it up to last year."

Dudley toke his seat at the round table. Harry set the now finished bacon and eggs on the table. Then he sat out to start mothers tea. Mother Petunia loved black tea.

"Are you exited about the zoo today Dudley?" Harry asked curiously. He turned to Dudley who's mouth was full of bacon. Dudley nodded his head. Harry turned back to the bacon and put on his easy smile. Harry loved animals, he couldn't wait to see the tigers and the grey wolves. The zoo they were going to had beautiful white tigers there.

The soft thumping of mothers foot-steps could be heard coming down the stairs. Harry turned his head toward the doorway of the kitchen entrance. Mother walked in and immediately strolled toward Dudley with a hug and a 'Happy birthday my little Dudley-kens'.

Uncle Vernon would be the last to awaken as per usual. That was fine with Harry, Harry and Uncle Vernon were not close at all. And when Vernon did come down Harry's happy flew right out the house.

Harry was the last to sit down and start on his breakfast. Harry didn't eat much so he was also the first one finished. He waited quietly for the others to finish to.

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The zoo was, in Harry's personal opinion, the best part of the day. The tigers were fed today. So he got to watch Kuna and Ala being fed horse muscle, their favorite according to the lady feeding them.

The wolves were just a joy for Harry to watch. Prancing around and playing with the cubs. The elders of the pack stalked around the trees placed there to make it feel like the tundra they grew in.

Harry didn't enjoy watching the lions. Beautiful as they are with their rugged manes and long muscular bodies they seemed to dependent. it's a fact that the male lions never hunted, and they depend entirely on the females and their hunting ability and wit to survive in the harsh deserts. And then the male lions ate first and if there was anything left the females would eat it. It was sickening.

Today you could also hold the eagle your arm in the bird house. But you had to have a glove. Harry didn't bother holding them, he merely stroked the soft feathers and watched where its intelligent eyes stared. Eagles were such beautiful and intelligent creatures. Its no wonder the Americans chose the eagle as there symbol.

The badgers were in Harry's personal opinion, charming in there own unique way. Not Beautiful like the tigers or the eagles, and not handsome as the wolves of the lions. But charming never the less. Always digging underground and helping the clans of badgers gather. Hard working and charming creatures that worked for respect and darn well deserved it.

But the most interesting part of the day had to be the snake house.

Harry and Dudley stood in front of a glass wall of the first snake in the lone narrow cave that was the snake house.

Dudley was rather unhappy that the snake refused to move. Dudley knocked on the glass hard.

Dudley frowned when the snake refused to move. Harry couldn't blame the snake. Having to sit there all day watching people press there faces against the glass that protected you from slimy abusing hands.

"Poor thing." Harry thought to himself. He stared at the snake for awhile. The sign said it was breed in captivity. It must be sad to be alone for that long.

"You poor thing." Harry said to the snake. "Don't mind Dudley he doesn't know better."

The snakes head perked up. His triangular shaped head stared up at him. It dark eyes calculating.

Harry was taken aback. "Can you understand me?"

The snake nodded.

Harry pulled his hand through his hair. "I've never talked to a snake before. Do you talk to people often?"

The snake shook his head.

"I don't blame you. People are stupid, individuals are smart." Harry laughed at his little joke.

"Mom!! Dad!! Come look what the snake is doing!!!" Dudley's voice sounded though the cave.

The next thing Harry knew he was on the ground, he looked up and saw Dudley pressing his face to the glass wall of the cage. Harry knew Dudley didn't mean to nock him down, but he was unset just a little by the look the snake was giving his only friend.

And then the glass disappeared and Dudley fell into the cage.

The next thing Harry knew was that the zoo filled with screams about a snake and about a boy trapped in the snake house.

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Harry sat on his bed was a frown pasted on his face. Uncle Vernon blamed him for what happened at the zoo.

Harry didn't see how it was his fault. It was an unexplainable event. He didn't have a single thing to do with it.

He never touched the glass, he never threw anything at the glass, e never wished for the glass to disappear, he didn't pray to god or call to spirits to make the glass disappear. He was not to blame at all.

But the facts didn't stop uncle Vernon. He literally threw Harry into his room when they got home.

Mother jumped to Harry's defense. He could hear there voices outside his door. Vernon was blaming Harry. Petunia was threatening Vernon with a divorce if he laid a hand on Harry.

Vernon backed down.

Harry frowned more.

He felt at fault for this now.

Harry pulled out his most priced passion, a laptop he got for Christmas last year. He Loved the silvery color of laptop.

He opened the laptop and pulled up the internet. Ah, how Harry loved fanfiction. Yet another obsession of his.

Fanfiction was the cure to all forms of sadness and guilt.

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The next morning

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

Harry pull a blue pillow over his head to drown out the noise.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

Ok so that wasn't working. Harry pulled the pillow off his head and glanced at the clock resting on the side table. Five am. To early.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

Harry willed his tired head to the left were his window was next to the bed. There was a rather tabby looking owl there.

Harry blinked.

Owls don't sit on peoples window stills and tap on there windows.

Harry blinked again.

The owl stared.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Stare.

Blink.

Harry willed himself out of bed and opened the window.

The owl flew in.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Mom is not going to like the fact that there is a possibly diseased bird in the house."

"Hello Mr. Owl." Harry greeted the owl.

It was the owls turn to blink.

"Look Mr. Owl…." Harry started. "I don't want to be rude but….you have to leave."

The owl blinked again.

"Its not that I don't like you. Its that my mother and Uncle Vernon will kill you if you stay here. So if you would just, um, fly away and never come back, that would be nice." (4)

The owl looked rather insulted. It held out its foot, which seemed to be holding a letter.

Harry took the hint and took the letter.

The insulted owl flew out the window and didn't give Harry a second glance.

Harry blinked before lying the letter down on the table and going back to bed.

Two hours later Harry awoke again. He got dressed, today wearing his turban and Indian robes. And skipped down stairs letter in hand.

He got to the kitchen and sat in his chair at the table. Vernon and Dudley were already eating and mother was sipping her tea.

Harry glanced at the yet-to-be-opened-mail. He chose now to open his letter. Pretending to pick his letter up from the pile, so as to avoid question on way the mail didn't come with the rest of the mail, he glance at the writing.

Mr. Harry Potter

The smallest bedroom

Number four Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

"Oh my." Harry thought as he read the address. It was so exact. That could only one thing. Harry has a stalker.

So Harry did something that every high functioning autistic child would do.

He told.

"Mother I seem to have a stalker." He stated.

Petunias head snapped from her tea to Harry, her eyes widened as they landed on the parchment in his hand. She quickly reached over a snatched the letter from his hand and ripped it to pieces.

Harry blinked. Then he shrugged it off. He really didn't want to read that stalkers letter anyway.

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Well that's the end of chapter one.

1. Cookie cuter houses is a term where I come from that means that all the houses look the same.

2. The first five years of a child's life are the most impotents to a child's brain development. While it is true that most children are born with disorders harsh treatment and trauma can also influence a change.

3. There is a women named Ping were I live and she opened a store to sell things from Tibet. She is were I got the idea for the store from.

4. I have the same disorder I gave Harry in this story. (You have to guess what it is) and apparently we either say rude things without realizing it or we say to much.