They say that whatever doesn't kill you will make you stronger. If so, Then Harry Potter should be the poster boy for strength.

The Prophecy Child. The Boy Who Lived. All titles unknowingly given to the boy who would one day change the wizarding world. Whether he liked it or not.

So how did it all begin? Like all great legends this one starts with a dream. The dream of a small boy hidden away from the world in which he would become a legend. But not for long.

"Boy, don't burn that bacon," said the shrill voice of the horse-faced woman as she looked on sternly as a small boy huddled over a bulging pan of sizzling bacon.

"Yes Aunt Petunia," the boy said softly, expertly removing the now perfectly done meat and transferring it to a serving dish. The bacon joined an assortment of delectable breakfast items. From biscuits to soft-boiled eggs arranged in spectacular fashion on an antique hardwood table, there was enough food to feed an army. At the table sat the boy's Uncle Vernon, a horribly obese man, with hardly any neck and a large grotesque looking mustache coupled with even more horrific table manners. Sitting next to him, shoveling food as fast as he could, was his cousin Dudley, a carbon copy of his father and possessing in the boy's opinion, even worse table manners.

Aunt Petunia sat down next to her son and husband with dignity, or so she thought. She was a thin woman with blonde hair and pale eyes, a horse like face and entirely too much neck. The boy himself often thought that together the three looked like something from a Tim Burton movie.

The Boy's Name was Harry Potter and he was unusual in every sense of the word.

It wasn't just the lightning shaped scar on his forehead or the piercing emerald eyes that seemed to look into a person's soul that made him different. There was something about him, a walk and a talk that just wasn't normal for a boy his age. Not surprising considering he was all-alone in the world. His relatives hated him and he had no friends, partly because his cousin's gang intimidated everyone who attempted to befriend the "strange" boy but also because he was incredibly smart and at the top of his class. He spent his free time holed up at the local library, trying to escape his abysmal reality by engrossing himself in the worlds created by his favorite authors. He particularly liked books on history and could often be seen reading about the exploits of men of impressive deeds suchas Alexander the great and Winston Churchill. In addition to history he devoured books about fantasy and magic and when no one was looking liked to pretend he was a secret magician or powerful sorcerer.

Most would think this was simply the active imagination of a ten-year-old boy. But Harry was special and his keen mind had already picked up on the fact that he was different. Strange things happened to him when he was upset or angry. He turned a teacher's wig blue when she called him a dreadful liar after explaining that Dudley had destroyed his homework out of spite for doing better than him. Once when escaping from an ambush by Dudley and his gorillas, he found himself suddenly on the roof. All attempts to replicate the extraordinary events had proved unsuccessful, but Harry was certain that there was something different, something special about himself.

At home he was simply an unwanted guest who, until a year ago lived in the cupboard under the stairs. He had managed to trick his uncle Vernon into giving him the smallest bedroom by an offhanded mention about how he had asked the school nurse if living in a cupboard all your life would stunt your growth. This was actually completely false, but the purple hue his uncle's face suddenly sported let him know that he had won. The very next day he packed his meager belongings and moved into Dudley's second room.

Today was Dudley's birthday and, like most events in the Dursley household, he was unwelcome. So making a small plate of biscuits and eggs, he made his way to his room, ignoring his Uncle's bellowing for him to get the mail. He had just finished his breakfast and was about to pull out his copy of Great Expectations when a horrified yell echoed through the house sighing in frustration at being interrupted he made his way downstairs to see what all the fuss was about.

"What's going on?" he asked noticing his aunt and uncle's pale faces.

"Boy," sputtered his uncle. "Just a prank letter someone sent through the mail. Go to your room and don't come out!"

Harry eyed his uncle suspiciously before deciding he didn't care and returned to his book.

Over the next few days Harry noticed a strange mood settling over the Dursley house.

Being it was summer, he spent most of his time out of the house either reading a book in the park or holed up at the library. The reasons why were simple: he hated dealing with his cousin and the brain dead gorillas he called his friends. The boys liked to consider themselves a gang and spent their time bullying the smaller kids in the neighborhood. A few years ago they had a game they used to play called Harry Hunting, in which they chased the smaller boy all over Little Whinging and beat him to a pulp. They couldn't often catch him as Harry was very fast and their combined IQ was about the equivalent of a church mouse. But about a year ago, Harry had gotten sick of the hassle and stopped their little game for good. Knowing that the boys both outweighed and outnumbered him, he didn't dare attack them directly, and instead he implored the methods that have worked against bullies throughout history. He took out the leader, his cousin Dudley. He waited until the boy was alone and coming back from whatever mischief he had gotten up to that day, and surprised him from behind, and hit him in the back with a large stick. The pudgy boy shrieked in fear and surprise and much to Harry's amusement wet himself. He walloped the boy several times and took pictures, warning the boy that if he ever came after him again, he'd show these pictures to the entire neighborhood.

Mortified Dudley agreed and from then on left his cousin alone.

Still, Harry preferred to stay away from the Dursley house as much as possible, and would return from his solitary comforts only when the sun had gone down and the library closed. Over the last few days however he noticed that his aunt and uncle were becoming increasingly flustered, and once he had come home a few hours early and noticed his aunt picking up what looked like dozens of letters. He was a tad curious about what was going on, but decided that any troubles his relatives were having was simply karma and thus none of his concern. Until an angry shout from his uncle at 3 am woke him up.

The obese man swung open his bedroom door and shouted for him to a pack a few essentials as they were leaving. Sleepy and confused, he made his way downstairs where an equally befuddled Aunt Petunia and Dudley were waiting. His uncle practically shoved them in the car and drove for hours before turning around randomly and muttering madly to himself. Harry was extremely nervous as he had read about similar incidents where a man went crazy and killed his entire family. He quickly surveyed the car and tried to come up with an escape plan in case his uncle had finally snapped. Luckily or unluckily depending on your point of view, they found themselves at the coast. Vernon locked them in the car and vanished.

"He's lost his bloody mind," muttered Harry, as he fumbled unsuccessfully with the car door, which stubbornly refused to budge. "And now it's raining, great."

"Watch your language boy," said his Aunt tiredly.

"I wanna go home," moaned Dudley who looked as if his world was about to end.

"The end of the world might not be far from the truth," Harry thought when his uncle returned with a toothless old man wearing a dirty rain coat and carrying a long slender package that Harry immediately recognized as a gun.

"We're gonna die," Harry thought forlornly and absently followed his family into the toothless man's boat. Half an hour later they found themselves in a worn down shack on top of a large rock.

The house was falling apart. The paint was gray and chipped; moss and great patches of mold filled the corners and ceilings, and the pitter-patter of tiny creatures echoed throughout the house. Vernon handed each of them a bag of chips and a banana, and headed to set up the bedroom for him and Aunt Petunia. Harry took the floor and sat quietly after everyone had finally gone to sleep, wondering about the peculiar behavior of his uncle. "It must have something to do with the letters' he thought.I wonder what was written in them, that had Uncle Vernon spooked so much."He spent the next little while running through possible scenarios in his head and before he knew it, it was midnight.

"Happy Birthday to me," he thought randomly before a loud boom shook the entire shack. "What the hell," he though. "Is that a knock?"

There was another boom as whoever it was knocked again, and Vernon came running into the room with a rifle in his hands. "Who is it?" he asked cautiously.

There was another boom and the door flew clear off its hinges. Standing in the doorway was a giant of a man, with an extremely thick, tangled beard and a large coat covered in pockets. He bent down and set the door back on its hinges. "I'd take a cup of tea if you don't mind. It's been a long journey."

He nudged Dudley out of the way and sat down, the couch sinking under his weight.

"It's good to see you again Harry," he said cheerfully. "You were just a baby the last time I saw you." The giant smiled in what he no doubt thought was a charming way, but which left him looking deranged. "You look just like your dad, but you have your mum's eyes. Shame about what happened. Better people you couldn't have found."

"You knew my parents?" Harry asked softly. "Were you there when they had the car crash?"

"Car crash," thundered the giant. "Lily and James Potter die in a car crash? Preposterous!"

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.

"I forbid you to tell him," Uncle Vernon said finally, aiming his gun at the stranger.

The giant bent down and twisted the gun until it resembled a neck tie and handed it back to the sputtering Vernon. Then he turned back to Harry,"I'm Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the keys at Hogwarts." He announced."Sorry. Got so caught up I forgot to introduce myself."

"Nice to meet you Hagrid, so tell me what happened with my parents."

Hagrid looked flustered for a minute before finally steeling himself. "I suppose I'm the only one who can tell you. Harry you're a wizard. So were your parents. Two of the finest to ever graduate from Hogwarts School ofWitchcraft and Wizardry. Head boy and girl in their day." He reached into one of his enormous pockets and pulled out a letter, which he handed to Harry.

Harry read through it quickly. "Well this explains a lot," he mumbled before turning his attention back to Hagrid. "So how did my parents really die?"

"They got themselves blown up," screeched Aunt Petunia, who launched into a rant about the evils of her sister. Hagrid looked furious and was about to respond to her when a murderous glare from Harry shut her up.

The giant man had to compose himself again before finally answering, "There was a war. This dark wizard named," he paused. "Well, its taboo to say his name, but it was Voldemort. Please don't ask me to say it again. Heattempted to conquer the wizarding world. He killed many a good witch and wizard and was poised to take over everything. Dark times Harry. Didn't know how to trust anybody, never knowing when you would be next on the Dark Lord's list. He came to your house on Halloween when you were just a baby, no one knows why, and killed your parents before turning his wand on you. Something happened and he was defeated. No one had ever lived after he tried to kill them, but you did, as a baby to boot. That's why you are famous in our world, known to all as the 'Boy Who Lived.'"

Harry pondered this information for a few minutes. He wasn't sure what, but there was something missing from this story.

"So is Voldemort dead?" he asked.

Hagrid flinched at the evil wizard's name, "Call him 'You-Know-Who' Harry. Even today most of us don't dare say his name. As for that I don't reckon he had enough human in him to properly die. Most of us reckon he's still out there but lost his powers."

"Can you tell me more about my parents?" asked the boy finally, deciding not to dwell on the issue of Voldemort just yet.

"Great people. At the very top of their class at Hogwarts. Your mum was really kind, used to visit me all the time, your dad was a bit of a prankster but everybody loved him. He was brilliant and funny, oh how he used to have me laughing."

Harry smiled. 'I wish I could have met them,' he thought.

'So is Hogwarts a school?" ge asked eagerly

"Indeed it is" beamed the giant" The finest school of magic in the world, lead by the best headmaster the school has ever seen, Albus Dumbledore."

Harry smiled. This school of magic sounded like a fun place.

"So Hagrid, what do we do now?"

"Well, I'll take you to get your school supplies. But first let me send a message to Dumbledore. He'll want to know I managed to reach you," Hagrid pulled a ruffled owl from one of his pockets and quickly scribbled a note. He then led the way outside where a dainty looking rowboat lay tied to a small stump.

"Um, Hagrid, I'm not sure we will fit," stated Harry, discretely glancing from the small boat to Hagrid's giant size.

"Nonsense Harry, it's magically expanded," Hagrid placed one foot inside the boat, which quickly expanded to accompany his size, Harry got in and Hagrid tapped the boat with his umbrella and the boat shot away.

The next morning the two made their way to a bedraggled building in London. Tapping on the brick wall behind it with his umbrella, the walls gave way revealing the splendor of Diagon Alley. Shops of all types littered the golden streets and the two made their way towards a bar called the Leaky Cauldron.

"It's a famous place. Tom runs a restaurant and an inn upstairs," remarked Hagrid.

When the bar patrons noticed who the giant was with they immediately swarmed the boy, much to his dismay. After a few minutes they managed to escape the crowded bar and made their way towards Gringotts, thewizard bank. Hagrid handed Harry his vault key and after making a stop to pick up a secret package for Dumbledore, they made it to Harry's vault. Mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins filled the small cavern. Harry felt a deep, mournful sense of satisfaction that he would never be dependent on anyone ever again. Grabbing a bag full of gold they made their way through a myriad of shops picking up the things on Harry's list.

When they got to Harry's favorite stop, a place called Flourish and Blotts, He insisted on picking up a few extra books, such as "A History of Wizarding Britain" by Natalia Grengrass, "A Pureblood Guide to WizardingLaws and Politics" by Matthias Malfoy, "Hogwarts: A History", and finally several more advanced versions of the "Standard Book of Spells": grades 2-4. Their next stop was Madame Malkin's for robes, and Hagrid leftHarry while he was getting a fitting, saying that he wanted to get Harry a birthday present. Harry was silent as the measuring tape flew over his body, and lost in thought, ignored the blond boy who was trying to engage him in conversation. After getting his robes he met up with Hagrid in front of Ollivander's Fine Wands. Hagrid handed him a cage containing a beautiful snowy owl.

"Thank you, Hagrid." He said, voice tingeing with emotion. This was the first real birthday present he had ever received.

Hagrid Blushed. "It's no big deal," he replied before leading Harry into the wand shop.

The shop was old and slightly dusty, but also had an aura of mystery that had Harry's curiosity burning. A squat, gray haired man appeared almost out of nowhere, and proceeded to dazzle the boy with his impressive memory of all of the wands he had ever sold. For the next hour the two tried wand after wand, but none reacted to the boy well enough for the old man's satisfaction. Finally after a particularly creepy bit of mumbling, the wand maker returned with a dusty box.

"Here you go, 11 inches, holly and phoenix feather. Give it a whirl." A series of sparks shot from the wand as soon as Harry grabbed it, much to Ollivander's delight. "Curious... curious… strange you should be destined for this wand, Mr. Potter, when indeed it was its brother who gave you that scar." He peered into the boy's emerald eyes. "Powerful wand... I think we can expect great things from you, Mister Potter." Harry gazed at him with interest as Hagrid led him from the store.

"Well time to get you, home. Here's your ticket. Remember that the Hogwards Express leaves on September 1 at exactly 11 o'clock from Kings Cross Station."

"What's the platform number?"

"9 and ¾. Now are you ready to go?"

"Just a sec, Hagrid, I've a thought. I have a lot to catch up on, I know virtually nothing about the world I grew up in. Plus as you can see, the Dursley's are terrible people, and I wouldn't put it past them to somehow prevent me from going to Hogwarts."

"They wouldn't dare," growled Hagrid.

"You don't know them like I do. Why can't I spend the last month before school starts in a room at the leaky cauldron? That way I can learn more about my parents' world and maybe make some friends with the other kids coming to the alley."

Hagrid pondered this for a moment. "Well, Dumbledore didn't give me any orders to make you stay with the Dursleys, and it would be good for you to be around your own kind and not them dreadful muggles. Plus Tom will be there with you and he can answer any questions you might have. I suppose it's all right." Hagrid helped Harry gather his stuff and took him to rent a room for the month from Tom.

Harry made a solemn promise to himself as he observed the splendor of Diagon Alley from his window and watched the wizards and witches walk to and fro. He vowed to never be dependent or weak again, and to make his parents proud by becoming the most powerful wizard ever. His keen mind had read in between the lines of his talk with Hagrid back at the shack. The mad man who had killed his parents and cursed him to 10 years of hell with the Dursleys was still alive, and one day, the boy promised, there would be a reckoning.


Well here we are, my first ever Harry Potter fic.

This fic will be updated slowly as my priority is the Legend of Naruto Uzumaki.

This chapter remained semi-close to canon; however things will vary quite a bit as time moves on. I will attempt to keep everyone but Harry as close to their canon selves as possible so there will be no bashing of any kind.

Voldemort however will be far more intelligent and dangerous than he was in canon.

This fic will be a Lunar Harmony, or for those who don't know what that means: Harry/Hermione/Luna.

Until next time, Millennion.