Begin Flashback:

"No! Stay away! Get back!" A terrified woman's voice screamed. Thunder boomed the sides of the house.

"No one resists Lord Voldemort! Give me the child!" Voldemort yelled wickedly.

"No! No!"

"No? Then I will have to go by force!"

"You will never get Harry! Never!"

There was a slight pause. Then, the evil voice rang out again.

"Woman, you can never defeat Lord Voldemort. No one gets by him."

"Shut the hell up you egoistic jerk!"

"Tut, tut, I think you better show some respect for your successor…"

"Never!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Avada Kedavra!" The two killing curses rang out in unison. Two huge explosions rang through the air. All of a sudden, there was two simultaneous thumps. Then a third one, slightly softer, the sound of a baby carriage hitting the ground…

End Flashback:

Begin Flashback:

1-year-old Harry Potter decided to go explore for a little bit. After all, there was no one. He totted out of the carriage and prodded around, contemplating the views ahead of him.

Although his small baby brain could not officially decide what he was seeing, he grudgingly totted on. He soon came to a river- a shining, gleaming river. Harry smiled at its beauty.

When he got back to his baby carriage- it was gone. Stolen. Taken. No longer in his possession. He frantically searched around for it- but a baby's legs could not get him far. He broke down, crying.

Suddenly, his stomach gave a huge lurch. "Foo…" He murmured. He walked around, trying to think of where to get food. But there was none.

Finally, he looked at the interesting container that he would later find out as a trash can. He was genuinely surprised- and trotted over to look in. Immediately, a nasty smell overcame him. He nearly jumped away.

He held his nose. He put his hand into the trash can- and drew up a stinking pair of chicken wings, with a bit of meat left on them.

"Beecchh!" Harry said in disgust. He threw the chicken wings back into the trash can, and then went to search for help. He walked onto the Main Street.

No one seemed to notice he was a lost orphan. No one looked at him twice. They looked at him, and all thought the same thing. "He must be one of those beggar's children."

He caught no one's attention, and he didn't know how to say, "give me food," so he made an eating gesture. People who looked were even more disgusted. They knew that this was a beggar's trick. Or… assumed.

"Foo…" Harry said. He could not add anymore. No one answered him.

Seven hours later, a grief-stricken Harry totted back to his alley, and his stomach was growling like a lion. He sighed in resignation, and ran up to the trash can. Holding his nose again, he picked out two stinking chicken wings.

His stomach was so hungry he didn't care what he threw in. He ate everything, though not the bone. He looked through the trash can again- rotten apple- moss-covered bread- burnt corn…

Harry ate them anyway. It didn't matter. He was too hungry.

Then, soon, he was tired. Eating food was tiring. There was no more baby carriage. Harry went on and on, searching for something to sleep on besides the cold, hard ground.

He finally found some dirty, black, and torn rags at the end of the alley. He quickly got them and threw them on the ground. Then, he covered him self with the torn rags and fell asleep, shivering in the cold.

End Flashback

Begin Flashback:

The days Harry Potter spent on the streets only made him worse. None of the town cared about him. They were too minded in their own business. He was clothed in old clothes that he had found in some old guy's donation box, and he wore them, but they didn't fit. It was always either a size too large or too small. But he didn't care. He picked out of the trash can every day. He slept on rags. His 'bathroom' was the river. No one allowed him in, if he didn't have money. But he didn't care.

Harry was starved, sick, and scarred. What was really sad was that he only had to go to the river to urinate once in three days. He only pooped once a week. He didn't have enough food for more. But he didn't care.

And he was sick. Both physically and internally. His before bright-red baby face had turned into a dirt-sodden yellow skin. His once gleaming green-eyes had turned a sickly murky brown. He had black spots on his hands, probably sunburns, and his skin was dry, arid. Inside his body, he was infected with many diseases. This was mainly because of four things. Starvation, malnutrition, exhaust, and coldness. But he didn't care.

Not only those, but he was very weak. He hardly got any proteins or calcium, and his bones were very weak. Most of his food was spoilt, so they never had much nutrition in them. But he didn't care.

And that was the hideous part about it. Harry, to any towns person, and even a visitor, looked hideous. They all thought he was the devil. They warned their children not to go near him. They stayed away from him. They were disgusted at him. It was as if he looked at them then they would die.

And that was all Harry could do… mope for something he didn't want…

And when he begged for food, he got revulsion in return. People called him "worthless," "useless," "up to no good," "can't do anything," "so ugly," "looks like the devil," and more. Girls screamed if he looked at them. Boys looked menacingly at him, then ran. Harry was a devil. A devil to be feared. But he didn't care.

But his insides weren't evil. He never said anything bad. He never thought bad of anyone. He looked through the outside of a character- and saw his or her true beauty. Harry had learned a rule- treat people like you would want them to treat you.

Unfortunately no one treated Harry the way he treated them. They only saw Harry's hideousness, his ugliness, his deformation. They didn't see that through the sordid body, there was a heart of gold.

And what was very, very sad, was the fact that he did not know his own name. When he was born. His parents. His relatives. His age. No. He never knew any of this. He was always the boy, the mysterious boy, who did not know anything. And he did care.

And Harry's whole life was summed up in one word. Worthless.

End Flashback

Begin Flashback:

5-year-old Harry Potter walked through the streets like a rat. That's what he was, basically. Everyone thought he was a rat. So he was. He walked around, his body weak as anything, but he continued walking.

Suddenly, he stumbled upon a black book. Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He picked it up. It was torn and burnt. But the words were readable. Although Harry could not tell, it read, "The Bible."

Harry spent the next six hours trying to figure out what it said. Since no one ever taught him the ABCs, he never knew how to read or write. All he knew were how to speak, and he wasn't very good at that either.

He figured, that there were 26 characters. He didn't know the sound of them, and didn't know how to pronounce them. But he became so curious about the alphabet that he risked everything to do something- learn.

Harry went to a nearby school- where he knew kids were learning. He walked inside, and people stared at him like he was a ghost. He walked through the halls, with his dirt-sodden feet, for he had never had any shoes, and into the main office.

"Yes, dear?" A woman asked. She raised her head and gasped at him. "Who are you?" She asked, shocked.

And then it occurred to Harry that he did not know his name. His own, very own name.

"Uhh… David Blotts…" He said.

"And…"

"And I'd like ta join thi' school."

The woman looked disgusted.

"Umm… do your parents… approve?"

Harry sighed. "Ma parents are dea'."

"Oh I'm sorry."

"So can I join… thi' school?"

However, the woman knew that this was the rat, that everyone talked about. It was the one who begged, the one who didn't have anyone. And what was most sad was that this woman did not feel any sympathy or affinity at all…

"I'm sorry… our lists are full…" She stuttered, thinking of an excuse. Harry's hopeful face dropped immediately.

"Rilly? B-but… cudn't ya make an opening?" He asked.

The woman knew that if she let this hideous boy in she would be fired for foolishness.

"I'm really sorry… David…"

Tears sprang out of Harry's eye. "A'right… b-but…" he said between sobs, "if yeh… eva… have an op'ning- puleese tell me…" He sobbed. "I rilly, rilly, won' ta lern…"

The woman was astonished. This was the first time this woman had ever, ever, ever, in her whole life, seen a kid want to go to school. Most were terrified at the prospect of it.

"I will." She said, not knowing what to say.

"Fanks…" Harry said solemnly, as he walked out of the building, head drooped.

The woman finally felt realization touch her. The boy wasn't a rat. He was a regular child. Yet everyone treated him… for something he had no choice in. And so did she…

But she couldn't bring herself to run after the rat. She would get fired. Her consciousness stopped her as she settled down, whispering, "It's alright… nothing to worry about…"

As soon as Harry got out of the building, he ran to his small 'tent' of rags, crying the whole time. He couldn't believe, that the one opportunity he had was so hopelessly dismissed. He nearly cried until he was dehydrated. Finally, three hours later, a red-eyed Harry sighed. He controlled himself.

"If I can' lern ina classroom then I'll lern fro' outside!" He muttered indignantly. "I'll show 'em… I'll show 'em…" He murmured, as he fell back asleep. He was exhausted after all that running.

The next day, Harry woke up early, at 6:00. While kids were lazily wailing about not wanting to get up on the first day of school, Harry eagerly grabbed his bible and a couple of other torn and ripped books he had scavenged. He ran, despite his poor legs, outside of the school. The class had already started. There was a nice, young teacher teaching the ABC's.

"Alright… here is the alphabet…" And she carefully wrote the ABC's on the blackboard. Harry squinted his eyes from outside the window and wrote them in that order.

"Alright. Here is how you pronounce them. Repeat them after me. A." She said, and the class repeated 'A' in a bored tone. They weren't here to learn. They wanted to play with blocks, with trucks, and puzzles…

But Harry was eagerly scraping everything he could hear. Despite the window, he could still hear the voices inside. He silently pronounced them as the teacher went slowly to 'Z'.

"Alright, class, you," she pointed at a small stocky boy in front of her, "Say the first three letters."

Harry was astonished at the easy task. He could now say them forwards and backwards without hesitation. But the boy could not.

"A… uhh… uh… P… E?" The teacher smiled, despite his failure.

"You spelled ape!" She said happily. Harry was astounded. So this was how one formed words. With the letters!

Harry quickly wrote, 'ape' on his scrapped notebook and grinned. He was so happy that he was actually able to learn… this language!

"It is 'ABC' not 'APE' but I must say," She chuckled, "that you are a pretty bright boy."

The boy beamed. Harry rolled his eyes.

Then, the teacher continued teaching the alphabet, while Harry had 5 pages worth of notes, the other kids were just staring off into space, not paying attention at all.

Finally, the bell rang and the kids screamed and jumped in joy as they ran out of the classroom. The teacher sighed. "Someday they'll learn…" She smiled.

Harry quickly reviewed his notes. Wow! He actually formed words! He quickly flipped through his bible, and looked at some of the words it formed. He grinned stupidly, even though what he was doing wasn't stupid at all.

For the rest of the day, Harry tried words and pronounced them. He was able to name a few, and write and read a few words accurately. He was astonished at the easiness of the language.

Somehow, Harry didn't feel right. He didn't know what some words meant. He decided, that the next day he would go and scavenge some more books.

And it was from that day on that Harry Potter started his learning- truly arcane, but learning nonetheless.

End Flashback

Begin Flashback:

"Who are you?" A strong 8-year-old cornered Harry Potter into a corner. Behind them, a group of 8-year-olds were snickering.

"Uhh…" Harry was unsure of what to say.

"Answer me! Who are you?" The boy asked, pining Harry's chest to the wall.

"I… dun't know…" Harry said softly. It was genuine. But the other boys thought it was a joke.

"You don't know who you are?" The boy in front of Harry asked. Harry nodded soberly. The boy started pounding on the floor with laughter. Behind, the group of amused boys were laughing too.

"You don't know who you are? Why don't you go to the amnesia center? Or- perhaps, special care!" And they broke down again.

Amidst the laughter, Harry sneaked out surreptitiously, and back to the alley.

"Hey- where did he go?"

End Flashback

Begin Flashback:

6-year-old Harry Potter was sobbing quietly after another group of people had insulted him. He felt useless. Worthless. Nothing.

Then, something black caught his attention. Harry peered up. He gasped.

It was a black alley cat, with shimmering fur, and it had a pink ribbon around it, and on it was who it belonged to. It was majestic.

"Wow…" Harry whispered. The cat came over, smiling. It nuzzled her head around his shoulder.

Harry was astonished. This was the first piece of affection anyone had ever shown him. In his life. He smiled gravely and petted the cat.

"Ur beautiful…" He whispered. The cat purred as it leaped into his lap and put her head against his bony chest.

He gently stroked her ears, and she snuggled even closer to Harry, wanting more. Harry smiled.

"Ur da firs' person… er… animal… ta eva touch meh intentionally…" He said. The cat rested herself on his lap, leaning her head against Harry's hip.

"Wow…" He said once more, disbelieving that animals could be so affectionate.

Soon, Harry Potter went to sleep, and when he woke up, the cat was gone. But it had always came back… once or twice a week… after that.

End Flashback