A/N: This is my very first story on ffnet and it would mean the world to me if I could get as many reviews as possible and don't worry about constructive criticism, I can take it! However, I will not tolerate flames on any level. If anyone is offended by the content of this story...


Now, mini explosion/warning over and done with! On with th summary and etc.

WARNING! Mature Rating for Child Abuse, NonCon. Dark themes.

Summary: Another series of What if?'s... What if Harry ran away from Privet Drive at the age of five only to wind up in an orphanage. What if he only knew survival and never love in his eleven years of life? What if he was left to get his things in Diagon Alley alone? What if Draco made a good impression in Madame Malkin's? And finally... What if a stranger protected Harry in an incident and decided to take him under wing as their own and raise him. Will history repeat itself? Will Dumbledore's fears of another Tom Riddle come to pass? Only time will tell.

This is The Poison Tree- inspired by the poem by William Blake.

Disclaimer: I will only state this in this chapter alone. This story is the otherworldy masterpiece by J. and I am merely an enamoured fan that is playing with her characters. I own nothing... apart from Scatha... you'll find out who that is later ;D



~*~*~*~Lady of Dark Serpents~*~*~*~

And I water'd it in fears
Night and Morning with my fears
And I sunned it with smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles...

-William Blake-

"No! Not Harry, please!" a red-haired woman begged as she stood in front of a cot, guarding her year-old son.

"Stand aside girl, move!" the man, cloaked completely in black, hissed angrily.

"No please, take me. Take ME!" she sobbed.

"You're not worth a fraction of what he is Mudblood, now stand aside or I will make you!" the hooded man sneered, pointing his wand at the woman. Tears rolled down the woman's cheeks as she pleaded with the darkest wizard of the age one last time.

"Please, I beg you don't take him! I'll-

"Avada Kedavra!" the wizard roared, losing his patience.

A flash of brilliant green light illuminated the small nursery as it flew out of the wand and collided with the woman. She dropped limply to the ground, dead, and the wizard stepped over her to the cot.

A small boy with eyes the same colour as the curse that had just killed the woman gazed up at him interestedly. He gurgled happily and gripped the edges of the cot as he looked up at the cloaked man.

"Ag-en!" he cried and the man froze, his wand half raised.

"You liked that?" the wizard hissed in amazement and despite himself, slowly reached out and lifted the one-year-old into his arms. The boy gurgled and laughed, pulling the wizard's hood down.

"Da… da!" he squealed and gurgled happily again.

"Humph, I think not brat!" the man snapped but the child merely laughed.

"What have you done Tom?" a new voice said.


"Give Harry to me."

"I think not old man!"

There was a flash of green light, a scream, tremors… and nothing.

"WAHH!" a five-year-old Harry Potter screamed as he jerked awake from the strange dream. He shivered in a cold sweat and tried in vain to still his trembling hands as he put his sellotaped glasses on.

"What the devil is wrong with you! You'll wake the neighbours!" a voice hissed from outside the cupboard that was his bedroom.

"S-Sorry Aunt Petunia…" Harry mumbled and heard the familiar click of his cupboard being unlocked.

"Get the breakfast now!" his horse-faced aunt hissed and Harry slowly got dressed in clothes that were three times to big for him and hung off his skinny frame. It was half six in the morning, the sun barely risen as he began to cook breakfast for his so called… 'family'.


Harry flinched at the tone of his uncle. He was rarely ever referred to by his given name except in the case of when the neighbour Mrs Figg dropped over requesting Harry's help. She was a pleasant woman that never gave Harry strenuous tasks. The most demanding thing she'd ever requested was that he run to the end of the road to post a letter for her.

Harry served up the breakfast and received a smack on the back of the head from Uncle Vernon for taking too long.

"Sorry Uncle." Harry mumbled before being shoved to the floor by his whale of a cousin, Dudley, as he waddled into the kitchen and inhaled his breakfast. Vernon sniggered and patted his son on the back before returning to his paper.

"What are you waiting for freak? Clean up!" Petunia snarled and shoved Dudley's plate into Harry's chest. The force knocked poor Harry backwards and the plate bounced, once twice… SMASH! The frying pan went flying off the cooker as Harry hit it when falling and hot grease flew everywhere, even hitting Vernon.

Harry cringed as his uncle let a roar and bared down on him angrily, hoisting him up by the scruff of his neck.

"Petunia… Dudders, go to the shop… get some… milk." Vernon growled.

"But Dad we already have-" Dudley began but Petunia slapped a hand over Dudley's mouth and led him out to the car without another word.

As soon as the car could be heard leaving, Vernon grinned evilly and dragged Harry up the stairs to the bathroom. He locked the door after himself and pulled off his belt.

"Strip… boy." Vernon snarled and Harry gulped. He was all too familiar with Vernon's belt… but he had never been told to remove his clothes before. He hesitated and Vernon roughly ripped his clothes off his frail body, bending him over the bath.

"Now…" Vernon purred disgustingly and brought the belt down on Harry's bare back with a resounding crack. Harry whimpered as he endured ten more blows, each one tearing the skin further. When it stopped Harry groaned and tried to stand but Vernon's beefy hand held him down.

"Oh we're not through yet… freak." Vernon sneered and Harry chanced a glance back at Vernon. The man's eyes glinted evilly as he fumbled with his trousers with his free hand and Harry frowned, not knowing what was going on.

He gasped as his legs were forced apart and something hard pressed against his backside.

"Uncle Vernon what-?"

His protests were drowned in his scream of agony as he felt unearthly pain ripping him apart. It was like he was being carved in half. A hand clamped over his mouth as his body was viciously violated and moments later, darkness engulfed him.

Harry awoke in his cupboard, naked, sticky and in pure agony. He grimaced and whimpered softly at the raw pain lacing through him. He didn't understand what had happened but it was wrong… it was worse than the belt… it was going to happen again.

Peering out of the small vent on the cupboard door, Harry could only see darkness, it was night-time and Vernon's snores echoed from upstairs.

He wanted to escape but how was he, a five-year-old boy, to get out of a locked cupboard? Tears streamed down his face as he wished with all his might for the door to open. A faint click was heard and the door swung open silently, causing Harry to flinch fearing his uncle's return. There was no one there though. Harry quickly slunk out and into the kitchen and rooted through the pile of clean clothes on the chair. He grabbed an oversized hoodie and trousers before getting a basin out of the press. The water in the kettle was still warm and Harry filled the basin, grabbing a teacloth and began to scrub himself viciously. He felt as if he would never be clean again and dried himself off, suppressing a shudder.

Once he was dressed he found Dudley's new schoolbag and emptied its contents on to the floor before stuffing more clothes into it along with as much food as possible. The bag was very heavy but Harry willed himself to be able to carry it. Suddenly the weight seemed to be gone from the bag and Harry groaned, thinking the bag had ripped. It hadn't and Harry looked inside the bag again. Everything was there but the bag weighed nothing!

"Cool…" Harry whispered as he headed for the front door.

His Aunt's bag was hanging on the banister of the stairs and Harry rooted through it, yanking out her purse. It held five hundred pounds that was undoubtedly for Dudley's birthday present. The fat lump was turning six next week and had demanded a computer and a Playstation. Harry shoved the money into a pocket and zipped it up tight before going to the front door and jumped to reach the lock. The door swung open and hit the wall with a loud thud and Harry fell over.

"POTTER!" Vernon roared and Harry leaped to his feet just as his uncle began to waddle down the stairs. Harry yelped and bolted out the door as fast as his small legs could carry him, Vernon in hot pursuit.

"Get back here!" Vernon puffed and Harry kept running, pushing himself to go faster.

Vernon finally slowed, clutching his chest and wheezing loudly as he watched his nephew sprinting into the shadows and vanishing from sight.

"Now what?" Harry muttered as he plonked down exhausted on a bench.