Disclaimer and all that Stuff.

Chapter 1

Harry lay on his pallet knowing this would be the last time he ever saw the Dursley's. This was the last time walrus man would ever hurt him. He gathered his precious few belonging into a small pack, whilst thinking about his treasured possessions. A bent tin soldier. Several broken crayons. A copy of 'The Brothers Grimm fairy tales'. A bag of marbles.

He had recently discovered he was a freak. But that was alright by him; the Dursley's had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and he returned the feelings whole-heartedly. It was her fault that he found out anyway. They had no one else to blame. Aunt Petunia had made a mistake when he locked him in the attic. She had forgotten all about her childish treasures; beautiful books filled with stories of magic, wizards, princesses, dragons, and elves. While she did not have the heart to destroy them, she would not have them displayed in her home.

It had all started when the Dursley "parents" (if those horrible examples of human being could be called that) were going to some swanky restaurant to celebrate the Walrus mans' promotion, before having a long weekend away. Leaving Dudley, or Blubber Boy as Harry thought of him, at Marge's home. Harry was to be locked in the attic with a bucket and a cloth, with only four sandwiches, two apples, 1 litre of water, and an order to "get this mess cleaned up if you know what's was good for you!"

Harry cleaned and organized, and organized and cleaned. Papers were collected into piles, and rubbish into bags. For hours and hours this went on, until he found it…

The discovery came when he made it to the back corner of the dusty attic. In a cardboard box stuffed under boxes of 'Dinky Duddydums' baby clothes, he found some old books. Slowly, carefully, he pulled them out of the box and read their titles. The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, and The Brothers Grimm. Unable to help himself, he opened a book (after staring at the beautiful covers for a minute), sat down and began to read what his 6 year old mind understood, filling in words he didn't understand with his imagination that was slowly coming awakened.

Before he knew it, the morning sunlight was shining through the rafters – the night hours had passed without him realising. Blearily, he looked around the attic, which was still covered in dust and rubbish, and so reluctantly he placed the books lovingly back into the box and went to work again.

As he worked, and the day grew longer, his mind went back the stories he had read. Feeling much to sorry for himself, he let his mind dwell on the story of the cinder girl and how he desperately wished for a godmother. Someone who would help him out with his chores, or help him get to the park. Then he thought about his Aunt Petunia and decided it might be better just to be the Godmother and not have to wait for others. After all, if you want something done, do it yourself.

Looking around the room, Harry thought about how much better it would be to have a wind blow through the attic, and swirl all the dust out. Concentrating very hard, Harry pictured a small tiny tornado like the one from the Wizard of Oz sweeping it all up. Taking deep breath, he closed his eyes and imagined its swirling breeze starting at one corner of the room. Time stood still as it happened. Magic began to fill the air, unlocked and called forth for the first time, and responded with a bit more force than Harry could have hoped for. A wind began to blow in the corner and blew all the dust out of the window, and continued to blow lifting boxes and sweeping dust off the floor.

Harry opened his eyes when the breeze rushed by him, unable to believe what was happing. Magic without direction continued until all the dust was blown out of the attic and down onto Mr. 15 Blossom Way's car, 5 streets over.

'Well, that was peculiar' Harry muttered to himself repeating a line out of his Alice book. When Harry realized his work was about done and decided he may as well relax a bit, so he sat down and began to eat his sandwich, and read more of his books. Suddenly a huge realisation lashed out and smacked Harry in the face. He had done it. Harry had made the wind. Just like he imagined it had happened. Harry was his own Fairy Godmother! Then he realized how stupid that sounded - being his own godmother was stupid even in his own mind.

Content, he settled down to read his book after finishing his sandwich, but his magic had tired him out, and he fell fast asleep before reading even a page.

Night came, and Harry woke from his doze as a storm began to brew - off in the distance lightning struck brightly across the sky and thunder rattled the windowpanes. Harry decided this was his last chance to read his new books. Flicking on the uncovered light bulb that hung on a chain from the ceiling Harry decided to reread Alice to see if any other magic would come to him. But that was not to be as just as the story was getting good, and Alice was getting caught up in her tear river, lighting struck the transformer down the road taking all the lights out on his street, and all went black.

"Bugger!" Harry cried, "Bloody hell!" He repeated the angry words that he frequently heard Uncle Vernon shout to himself. "Now what am I going to do?" Harry fumed and kicked things, generally throwing a wobbly, something he would never do if the Dursley's were there to see it. "I finally get something good. I got books and I can't enjoy them because I have no light. That's just great! Bugger It!" Harry used the only swear words he knew, in order the vent his frustration to the world, before he, being a six year old, did what would be acceptable. He sat down and cried.

Crying had the unfortunate side effect of making one snotty and swollen, but often cleared oneself of frustration. A good cry and Harry felt much better on the inside, allowing him to think. When he remembered to the box of old battery-powered toys in the box near the door, he thought that maybe there might be a torch in there for him to use. After searching and searching to no avail, he went to the attic window to sit out the rest of the night. The Dursley's would be back some time the next day, and there would be no time for any more books. It was too bad he didn't have any glowing rocks like in Grimm's book. "That would be cool," Harry thought to himself. That was when he remembered the marbles in the box, and the wind from that afternoon…

"Why not?" Harry asked himself. His horrid relatives were gone and wouldn't know if he played pretend and didn't tell. Pretending was not allowed – it was right up there in the list next to imagination, magic and freakishness. Gathering the large black velvet bag of marbles he got out the larges ball clear glass with blue and green dancing in the middle. Harry held the ball gently as he could, picturing how the light would come out right from the centre. Colours and the clear glass would expand the rays out, almost like a mini sun. Harry opened his eyes that time and watched, hoping, praying that he could make a light. He thought about how he would never be with out a light in his cupboard again, and if he got locked outside again he could see what was in the shadows. Just as he was about to give up, it happened – magic - light began to shine right out of the marble and light up the attic.

From that day on Harry was on a mission to figure out what he could do. Harry placed the marbles and the books in a rubbish bag of papers so not to mess them up and to smuggle them out of the attic so he could hide them away.

Life continued on as usual: cooking, cleaning, hiding from Dudley's gang. Everyday after finishing his chores he wandered around Little Whinging, and to the park. There he would climb a tree, sitting for hours playing with his marbles. He loved his marbles. The red marbles he could heat up to keep him warm, and he could make cool clear water come out of the blue marbles.

The clear but yellowish marble he could slip in Uncle Vernon's pocket, and make Vernon calm down a little. That discovery was an accident on Harry's part. The yellow marble had been in his back pocket when Vernon decided that Harry had been too slow cleaning the flowerbed, and needed a few good swats to remind him of his place. When Uncle Vernon hit the marble bruising his hand and Harry, he grabbed Harry and snatched it from him.

" What is this eh'? Stealing from Dudley, are you Boy!"

"No Uncle Vernon, I found it"

"Liar! I'll be keeping this. Beside what's a Freak going to do with a single marble, no-one is going play with you boy." Try as he might Harry could not get his marble back. He thought about how happy it made him even with out knowing what he could do with it. He wished and wished that he could feel how happy the marble made him. He thought how it glinted with tiny sparks of silver in it reflecting just like the birdbath in Number 12's yard on that bright sunny day last week, and then he saw Vernon relax just a tad.

"Just go boy. Just go outside - your chores are done anyway. Get out of here and be back for dinner." Harry got his marble back when doing the laundry the next day. From then on, he slipped that marble in Vernon pocket whenever he could. It made Vernon less likely to snap and yell at Harry, and that could be only a good thing as far as he was concerned.

When school started that fall a few weeks later, he made his next discovery: Dudley would not bother him at school if he stayed in the library. Each morning, he would go in and spend every possible moment he could reading fantasy books thinking about what he would do if he had the powers that those wizards had, but try as he might he couldn't get his marbles to take him to different places or turn him invisible. He figured that maybe he needed to be bigger like the grown up in the books or the teenagers.

Unfortunately all good things come to an end. Harry go in trouble for climbing on the school roof. When running away from Dudley, the wind had picked him up as he jumped, just like the attic breeze (not that he told Vernon that), but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get either grown up Dursley to believe him. He wound up in the cupboard with out dinner and marks on his back from Vernon's belt. Harry decided enough was enough. It was time to get out of Number Four. He had a plan and would do it, as soon as he got his first chance.

Harry made a break for it in the middle of the night. That dark Halloween night Dudley had worn him out going around the neighbourhood. After an hour of tantrums and several extra pieces of candy, Dudley finally went to bed. Harry had been sent to bed earlier, but thankfully Vernon had forgotten to lock him in after he was let out to go to the bathroom.

He stuffed everything in his knap sack, snuck into the kitchen stuffed in as much fruit, cheese, bread and cooked meat as he could. He then tiptoed upstairs his Aunt and Uncle's room and took 20 pounds out Vernon's wallet. Next he went to the room that Marge stayed in and took the jewels he knew belonged to his mother. There were two long strands of pearls, and 3 broaches. He knew they were his mothers because they had his mothers name and a message



May your dreams be blessed."

on the side of jewellery box. Every time Petunia tied to put them on she would cry, slam the lid and move it to another part of the house. Some times in a drawer and other times in a different room but she couldn't seem to take it out of the house or get rid of it.

Harry wanted and got anything that could have been his out of the house and with him. He then snuck into Dudders' room and took 3 of his new pants, 5 shirts and his new leather coat. Harry told himself he wasn't stealing; he was just taking what should have been his in the first place, what with all the chores he did it was just payment. Then it was two am, and Harry was out of there.

Harry made it as far as the park before he hunkered down, pulled out his marbles and lit up his newest discovery. He had scratched a clear marble across the front by accident a few days ago. Thinking it ruined, he continued to scratch it till he it looked like it had wisps all over it. He thought it looked really neat - like dust floating in the breeze. Harry stuffed it in his pack after recess and didn't noticed how light his pack was until he made it home and realized he wasn't as tired as normal. Vernon of course ruined everything.

Harry had gotten better grades then Dudley and so, of course, he had to have cheated. Vernon grabbed his pack, noting how light it was, but felt the pack had books in it when it bumped his leg. Harry then spent the weekend in his cupboard because of 'freakishness'. Harry decided to hide that marble till he could turn it on and off. It wasn't that hard - he just imagined the wind stopping and the marble stopped glowing and his knap sack was heavy again. It took all weekend and no meals but Harry thought the marble was well worth it.

The park lights were on, and Harry found a darkened corner, in which he arranged everything inside his pack, until it all fit snugly. Placing his marble in the little pouch in the lining, and he was ready to go. Longingly, Harry thought of a book he had read about. In it, the boy kept running away till he found a nice family that took him in. Harry decided that was what he was going to do. Maybe he could sneak on a ship and get to America, or maybe he would work on a marble and make a boat and head to France. Other people had done it on a rowboat, and there was that man who swam the channel so that was what he was going to do. The Dursley's didn't know French. Neither did Harry, so no one could ask him questions and send him back.

That was Harry's plan - get away and never come back. However, Fate has its own plans. Vernon had heard the front door open and close even though Harry had tried his hardest to be as quiet as possible. As quietly as his large girth allowed, he snuck downstairs, only to see the boy leaving the yard.

"Good riddance" he muttered and would have let him go, but, noticing Marge's door was open, he peered inside and noticed something missing. Greed had always been top of Vernon's virtues and he knew everything that was of value in his house, or indeed, to himself. While the box was of little matter to him, he noted it gone. Wobbling back in bed he saw his wallet had been moved. Vernon opened it and saw the money was gone.

That was 'it' as far as Vernon was concerned. He didn't have the marble that he had become dependent on to calm him, whether he knew it or not. He remembered the box had some value, and his twenty was gone. He was going to get that boy and take it out of his hide. Vernon made it to the garage got into the car and went to find him.

Vernon unfortunately got so caught up in his anger didn't think; he found the boy crossing the street and hit the gas thinking he would be freakish and he had to catch him. Never noting the constable coming up the side street, who had been alerted to the call of a child being out. He sped up until he was almost on top of the child, and didn't hit the breaks till Harry flew over the bonnet, roof, and onto the road behind the car. Slamming the breaks he thundered over to the boy and kicked the small immobile figure on the ground.

The constable saw it all - the tiny boy about four, maybe five, crossing the street and the car speeding up, aiming at the tiny figure. He sat in shock, unable to believe what he had just seen. Then the man got out and kicked the child and he snapped to his senses. Calling for back up and emergency medical aid, he ran, tackled the man and cuffed him, ignoring his screams of how the boy was a freak and that he stole from him. The constable saw it was already too late - the boy was gone.

Harry's POV

Life was great - he had made it out and no one saw him! He would get a ticket to London, get lost somewhere, find a nice family that would take him in and love him and hide his marbles for emergencies, (maybe play with them once in a while). He was so ready to start a new life he didn't pay attention to the car, till it was too late.

He kept walking, never noticing the car baring down on him, his flight in the air, or his crash landing. His mind continued on the great people he would meet maybe he could find more magic people. Where he wouldn't have to hide it; maybe they would let him grow a garden of vegetables. He could do, use his marble with the green swirls that made the flowers really pretty when he buried it there to hide it from Dudley. "Maybe a farmer will need some help. Maybe some horses, or Other People that can play with the marbles "

Magic newly awakened heard his deepest desire unvoiced: to find a place of acceptance. At that moment when the living becomes dead a ripple occurs, a wave constantly in motion connecting worlds and energies. It touched Harry just as his magic was reaching out to find his place, and lead him to where he belonged. Connecting all of him; magic, energy, intelligence, soul, mind, and all that he touched with his magic.

Harry felt as if he was floating, he was so excited. Then he felt it - wave after wave of hurt, then… Nothing.

He was so tired. He didn't understand it where he was. It was so dark. He remembered his marble could give him light, but he couldn't find them. He felt as if they were spinning around. When it stopped, all of it stopped. Magic swirled around him still searching. He was still hurting but he wasn't thinking about that when magic reached out so it was ignored. Then it built and built. Magic had found what it had been looking for.

A place of acceptance for Harry.

A note!

NarglesAreBehindIt, what a fabulous name. When in doubt Bluff and Blame the Nargels. (I think that is what I will do from now on) She edited this chapter fleshed it out and politely slapped me around! What was I thinking not having approval of the Nargles.