Woo Hoo! My third story published.

My first Harry Potter Fanfic.

The idea popped into my head and I knew I had to write it.

Tell me what you think. I will try to update often. Please follow and review if you like it and want more.

Prologue:

The Muggle Schoolteacher

August 3,1986

Harry, or as he knew himself, boy or freak, was in his cupboard trying to sleep off the new bruises on his arms and back, courtesy of his Uncle Vernon.

All he asked was if he would be allowed to go to school. Dudley had been complaining about having to go to something called kindergarten, where he would start learning. Aunt Petunia kept giving Dudley reasons to go, and Uncle Vernon told the him that he wanted Dudley to grow up to be 'a strapping young man like him'.

Aunt Petunia even offered to make him a wonderful dinner after he got back from his first day. And by she make it, she meant the boy would.

He thought maybe he would be allowed to go. He wanted to learn too.

He loved reading. When they weren't looking or when he hid from Dudley and his friend Piers, he went to the public library down the street. He found himself in a building full of knowledge and it was the first time in his life that he felt happy. He started teaching himself to read at 3 years old and thought maybe his family would love him if he tried really hard.

He was wrong.

When he started reading a children's book in front of them, they took the book and gave it to Dudley, who could barely get understand one word of it. Then again, at the time, Dudley only knew a few words, like 'mine', 'no', 'freak', 'want', and 'food'. They realized that 'the freak' had learned more than their precious Dudders. They didn't seem very happy about it.

It was the first time that ever Vernon hit him.

Vernon slapped him hard in the face and yelled at him to go to his cupboard, but not before tearing the book in half right in front of him with a sinister smile on his fat face. The boy was terrified and ran back to his cupboard, only to cry at the pain on his cheek and the loss of his book.

After that, he didn't try to impress them anymore. He still tried to learn more when he got the chance, but he hoped that his family wouldn't know or they might try to hurt him more. Sadly, they took all his free-time away when they started giving him chores.

Petunia taught him to cook and garden a few weeks after learning to read. She put it to use and forced him to read cookbooks so he could know how to cook for them. After a several months of forced practice, he became better at cooking than Petunia. Not that she would ever admit it.

As he got older, they put more and more on his to do list to the point that he was forced to clean the house everyday. He was only six and he had to clean the windows, kitchen, living room, both of Dudley's rooms, the hallways, the pictures frames, the tables, and also tend to the garden and lawn. He also cooked the meals for them everyday and didn't even get a taste of it before they scarfed it down. He only ever got bread or the occasional piece of old meat with water.

He worked like a dog everyday for end's meat.

And he never got so much as a thank you, only bruises and welts if he didn't do it right or wasn't fast enough.

So here he was, still in his cupboard with bruises from Vernon's last beating. All because he wanted to go to school.

He could only cry and wish that his parents didn't die in the car accident like his aunt told him. That he had a real family that would love him and where he wasn't a freak.

He ignored the pain on his body as his mind drifted off and fell asleep, still thinking about the parents he never had.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

The boy woke up in the morning with banging on the door for him to make breakfast, courtesy of Aunt Petunia. He got up to get started before Vernon woke up to see an empty table and an excuse to hurt him more.

He got to the pans and started cooking bacon and eggs while putting bread in the toaster.

"Boy, I need to speak with you after you finish. You better not screw up Dudley's eggs or I might not tell you."

"Y-yes Aunt Petunia." The boy said quietly with his soft voice. He didn't know what it was about, but the way she said it meant something positive might happen to him. But what? 'Was it about yesterday' he wondered to himself.

The boy finished and placed the plates overloaded with food on the table right as Vernon and Dudley came down the stairs.

Both sat down and ate as if the meal were to disappear in the next second. Food flew everywhere and made a mess of the table and floor. The boy sighed, knowing he would have to clean that up later.

"Boy! Come to the living room! Now!"

The boy walked to the living room to see his aunt sitting on the couch with a sneer on her face. "Sit."

The boy sat on the floor carefully, as to not irritate the bruises from yesterday. He was not allowed on the furniture.

"Now listen, as I don't want to repeat myself. I convinced Vernon that it would be strange that we have one child going to school and the other not. So it was decided. You will be going to school in three weeks with Dudley." The boy's eyes widened. She noticed and gave him a look of disgust.

"Don't start thinking too quickly. There are conditions you will follow. You will not talk to any teachers about what happens here, not that they will listen to you, as you're just a delinquent."

She smiled sweetly.

"But if I get one word with questions about us, then I'll let Vernon decide your punishment." She said evilly.

The boy shuddered, as he knew what Vernon could do when he wanted to pound some flesh.

He knew that nobody cared about him, as the entire neighborhood seemed to think he was a delinquent. Petunia, with her gossiping skills, has convinced them all that she was a victim of him, forced to take care of a careless troublemaker. It didn't help that Dudley caused trouble all the time and blamed it on him. That and his poor clothing that was 5 sizes too big made him look more unsavory.

No one believed him anymore when he tried to tell the truth. He was just a burden.

"You will not do anything freakish, do you hear me! If I find out that you make something grow or do something like last time, then you will pay."

He nodded, understanding what she meant. It was why he was a freak. He had strange things happen around him sometimes. Things that couldn't be explained other than that it wasn't normal. And that was something that Petunia Dursley didn't stand for. She or Vernon punished him harshly when he did something strange. Harsher than usual.

The last time he did something 'freakish' he was gardening and Petunia wanted to win the garden contest. She said if she didn't win, then he would pay. Scared of what might happened, he begged the flowers to be big and beautiful. The day of competition, the roses and petunias were the size of footballs and beautiful. Petunia easily won, but she had Vernon beat him with a belt for doing something freakish to her garden.

He still remembers the feeling of the belt on his back and pain that came after.

"You will not do better than our Dudders and you will stay silent. You follow these commands or you will find out what we can do to you. Do you understand?" The boy nodded his head furiously.

"Good, now get to work on your list of chores. You better finish them or you will punished." She demanded.

He gazed at her and gave her what almost looked like a smile. "Thank you Aunt Petunia." He said quietly, barely hear-able.

She heard it though and gave him disgusted look. "I don't need thanks from a Freak like you boy. Now Go!"

The boy rushed out the room, thinking about what was going to happen.

He was going to school! To learn and get smarter.

Maybe he could make a friend!

He was excited about that last prospect. Despite the rules, at least he would be able to learn and meet new people. He might not be allowed to score better than Dudley, but that didn't mean he wasn't allow to learn.

The boy smiled for the first time in two years, and couldn't help but wonder what it would be like as he cleared the table and started cleaning the kitchen.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

—three weeks later—

August 24

Miss Juliet Mayfield, kindergarten schoolteacher at Little Whinging elementary was going over her lesson plan and what students would be in her class.

The young woman had brown wavy hair that went down her back, brown hazel eyes and soft tanned skin. She wore a lavender dress that went down to her ankles with a grey blouse and grey shoes.

The young teacher looked at the list and noticed a student was added late this year. While it wasn't rare, it was uncommon, as most parents tended to care about their children's education and got signed up early.

She looked down at the name and information of the new student that would be in her class.

Name: Harry Potter

Birthday: July 31, 1980

Address: 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Guardian(s): Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursley

Weight: 41 lbs

Height: 3' 3"

Description: Caucasian with dark messy hair, green eyes and a scar on his forehead.

Notes: Mr. and Mrs. Dursley explained that Harry is a problem child and that he likes to cause trouble. Often gets himself hurt and antagonizes other kids. Guardians say he is a 'delinquent' and can't do anything to curve his behavior. Gives teacher permission to use punishments accordingly.

The young teacher read the paper over again to try to connect dots on her new student. She may have only been a teacher for 3 years after getting her masters in teaching 5 years ago, but the information seemed very unusual.

If it was all true, then the boy was under the weight and height of the average child. While it wasn't extremely unusual for some kids to be smaller, it seemed strange to her that a child much smaller than his piers would be bullying children.

And to call a six year old a delinquent was very strange to her. While children cause trouble sometimes, they were young and it was to be expected. Juliet loved children and didn't think it was right to call a boy that just came out of his toddler stage a 'delinquent'. They were children, not criminals.

Miss Mayfield liked to make her own opinions of people, so she would treat Harry like a normal student until something may or may not happen. After all, it was unfair to treat a child she never met differently from others.

She supposed she would have to meet this boy and see what kind of child he really was.

After all, tomorrow was Monday, and that was the first day of school.

-;-;-;-;-;-;-;-

-Meanwhile at Hogwarts-

An old man wearing fluorescent purple robes was sitting at his office reading a note that he had just received from his informant.

'Yes, everything is going according to plan.' the old man thought to himself as he sucked on a lemon drop.

The old man was none other that Albus too many names Dumbledore, who had just gotten a report of how the young Harry Potter was being treated from Arabella Figg, the old squib he assigned to watch over the Boy Who Lived.

'Soon, the boy will come here, and he will follow my instructions as I command him to. Keeping him downtrodden and miserable will leave him to crave affection, which I will give him as he is molded into what I want. It's a good thing I thought to place him with the Dursley family.' He though happily.

His plan had been going on since the Potters were murdered. He knew what was in the scar and knew that the boy would have to die to defeat Voldemort.

All for the Greater Good.

All he needed was to give the child some incentive to trust him and Harry would become his martyr for wizarding world.

Then Albus Dumbledore would take out Voldemort after the boy's death, claiming the title as the conquerer of two Dark Lords and cementing himself as the leader of Wizarding Britain for all future generations.

And if the boy didn't die, then he could claim the boy was becoming Dark and finish him off. In his opinion, either way was good for him.

'It is a brilliant plan. After all, I did come up with it.' He thought happily as he grabbed another lemon drop from the bowl.

Sadly Albus Dumbledore's plan had one miscalculation.

Not Sirius Black or Voldemort.

Not a Pureblood or even a wizard at that.

One so small that he never thought of it. Something he thought would never defeat a wizard, let alone his entire plans for domination.

A stubborn muggle woman.