Welcome to my first Harry Potter fanfic! I've wanted to write one for a long time and I finally came up with a decent plot to go with my overactive imagination. I already have a rough outline of all the plot details and juicy plot twists and I hope that the fanfic to come will entertain you at the very least.

There are a few warnings I'd like to throw out before we begin though. This fic is rated M for a reason. There will be swearing, adult situations, male pregnancy, one-sided incest, and graphic violence. These will be important to the plot. If any of these bother you, please do not proceed any further. I will be posting chapter-by-chapter warnings to be cautious, so if I see any comments complaining about anything I've put warnings up for, I will delete those comments.

It is also probable that the chapter lengths will vary, most likely veering toward "short" at about 1000-3000 words each, but I hope that the plot will make up for that shortcoming.

Anyway, I hope that you will enjoy the ride that I have planned for you!

Disclaimer: I'm obviously not J.K. Rowling because if I was, Harry/Draco friendship, at least, would be canon. I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect

I apologize in advance for any grammar/spelling errors, a few mistakes might have slipped through my editing (I don't have a beta, so thank goodness for spell check)

Harry Potter was a beautiful child.

Thick, inky lashes framed glowing verdant eyes set in a delicate porcelain face. Thin and willowy limbs stretched from a lean torso in an almost effeminate way. Unruly black hair sat in messy chaos that added to his cherubic charm. He looked like a doll in his childish beauty and his mannerisms only enforced this resemblance. His even temperament, his immaculate posture, his well-mannered attitude, all was ingrained within him despite never having been instructed. He never fussed, never cried, and never spoke out of turn. At age ten, Harry Potter was every parent's dream.

And she hated him for it.

Petunia Dursley nee Evans, his mother's older sister, envied Lily's son as much as she had envied Lily herself. Of course Lily's spawn would be as beautiful as his mother, with his slender figure and angel carved face. That his eyes were as green and vibrant as Lily's only strengthened her jealous resolve. Every time she looked at the disgustingly adorable little cretin, she could only see Lily in his appearance and his actions, and it made her want to smash his face in with a frying pan. He embodied everything she had hated and wished for as a child.

Her poor, poor Dudley, taking more after his father than his mother; he had inherited Vernon's... well, everything. Everything from his to wide girth and multiple chins to his cruelty and greed, Dudley was a carbon copy of his father in both looks and behavior. Petunia often heard the rude whisperings of her neighbors about how her perfect son resembled a pig more than a boy, and it enraged her that she could not truly defend against those nasty gossips, not when she herself acknowledged the bits of truth in the rumors spread by the sharp-tongued wretches.

If Petunia were a better person or if she didn't hate her late sister, she would praise Harry as the perfect child. She would never admit out loud how often she wished Dudley was more like Harry. From her position in the kitchen, she watched as Dudley crudely tossed bits of his fruit snack at the telly from where he was seated on the couch, screaming at the on screen characters. Harry sat in his little cupboard, quietly reading a book he had snatched from Dudley's waste bin before it could be tossed out. Such a well behaved child…

With a sigh, Petunia shook her head to clear her mind of such traitorous thoughts. Her darling Dudley wasn't some misbehaving brute; he was just being a normal little boy. Being a little boy meant that he was entitled to a few tantrums and naughty outbursts. He was still a growing child after all; he needed to enjoy his childhood to the fullest, even if it meant a few stains in the carpet or a few more servings of crisps than was healthy. Dudley was just being a normal little boy.

Harry, on the other hand, was abnormal. Not just abnormal, he was completely freakish. No normal child should be able to sit still for so long without fussing. No normal child should be able to handle getting locked in a little cupboard every day without bursting into tears. No normal child should be able to be so perfectly polite and docile in the face of corporal punishment. No normal child should be able to calmly pick himself up and tend to his wounds after a particularly harsh beating. Harry Potter was not normal in any sense of the word. He was so unphased by everything his family threw and spat in his direction that Petunia was starting to worry about his mental state and the safety of her family. If anyone could do any lasting damage to her family, it would be Harry Potter.

At least it would be, if he had shown any talent for magic at all.

Petunia found it odd that Harry had yet to show signs of what those freaks had called "accidental magic". She remembered Lily had first shown an affinity for witchcraft when she was five years old; she had made the neighbor's pet cat go bald after it had killed the wounded sparrow Lily was trying to take care of. As far as she knew, Harry had no magical power whatsoever; he was just a normal boy. But the fact that both his parents had both been supernatural freaks made her skeptical of his seemingly innocent countenance. There was no way the "all powerful" Lily Potter nee Evans could produce a normal, decent baby. He had to be a freak. He just had to be.

But she did doubt her conviction to hate the child once in a while. Her jealousy of his mother aside, Petunia knew she had very little reason to despise him as much as she did. He kept to himself, he didn't disturb any of his relatives for anything other than the occasional request to leave his cupboard to use the loo, and he apparently lacked his parents' magical ability. Petunia thought that as long as he didn't demonstrate any obvious freakish talent, she could possibly come to tolerate labelling him as something more than the hated leech she believed him to be.

Petunia had only to wait until the end of July for the lad's eleventh birthday, when a Hogwarts acceptance letter would make or break him. If no such letter arrived for him by the end of that day, perhaps Petunia would consider him normal enough to be treated more fairly. If he did receive a letter from Hogwarts, however, any and all sympathy and secret admiration for the boy would disappear. If it turned out Harry did have magical power, he could become a danger to her family. She would lock him up in that cupboard with chains and padlocks, with a cat flap on the door to feed him. If Harry turned out to be a big a freak as is mother, Petunia would personally ensure that that beautiful cherub face would never see the light of day again.

Petunia knew fear when she glimpsed at those empty green eyes, and the sadness and rage that just had to be lying hidden within them. She knew fear the first time Vernon had gathered the nerve to strike the boy after ensuring none of the freaks were checking on him. She knew that they could have been molding Harry into a hateful and vengeful psychopath with their treatment of him. Lily was raised a loved and happy child in an environment that encouraged her magical growth. But Harry was not. He was neglected and beaten, starved and hated. If Harry did possess magical power, Petunia feared for her family. She knew that they were stupid to criminally neglect a child that could potentially pose a threat in the future, but with her deep-seated hatred for her sister and her family's contagious cruelty, it seemed like the logical thing to do.

But even after the realization that their own actions could see them dead by Harry's hand, she continued to hate. She would hate until he proved harmless to her family. She would hate until her fear of magic was proven unfounded. Petunia Dursley nee Evans would hate Harry Potter until he was judged innocent of magic, regardless of his physical beauty or his immaculate manners. She would hate and she would taunt and she would mock until Harry was normal.

She wanted so much to love him and praise him and take credit for his perfection, but she would not.

Not until he was normal.

A/N: A bit of a prologue to establish the tone of the story :)