Warnings – This will eventually be SLASH. There will also be child abuse and neglect, and probably a bit of swearing. Not sure what else will happen quite yet, but most likely at least one more thing that needs a warning.

A/N: Hey everyone. This is Raven. Me and two other friends share this account and we will all be writing this story. So ignore any changes in writing style, it will jump around a lot, but we'll try not to make it to drastically different. K? Good. Now go read, and don't forget to review!!

A loud crash sounded through the house as the front door burst in. In their bedroom James and Lily Potter awoke quickly, grabbing their wands and rushing to defend their children with the wave of a wand they were frozen in place as their attacker approached.

"Don't worry, as soon as I'm done with your little brats I'll come back to play." He said laughing cruelly as he approached the nursery. Inside were three small children huddled together in the corner. Four year old Harry Potter with his father's black hair and his mother's emerald eyes had his arms protectively around his younger siblings. One-and-a-half year old Angel with beautiful red hair to rival her mother's and pale green eyes was huddled in her favorite brother's, Harry's, arms, sobs wracking her small body. The third sibling was Jonathan, three years old with light auburn hair and his father's hazel eyes, hugging his older brother and younger sister.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Angel wailed.

"Please mister, what do you want?" Harry asked.

"What an adorable little child. Too bad he has to die." Voldemort, the attacker, said to no one in particular. He pointed his wand to Harry and Angel's eyes widened, her young brain somehow understanding that this man wanted to hurt her favorite brother.

"Weave Hawy awone!" she shouted, her bottom lip trembling, her beautiful eyes glistening with tears. Voldemort turned his wand on her instead and she issued one last scream as the life fled her small body.

"Angel? Angie? Sis? Wake up Angie!" Harry cried, burying his face in her red locks, tears flowing freely down her face, sobs wracking his small body.

"Hmm…what a pity. And now, you will join your poor little sister. Avada Kedavra." Voldemort said lazily, his wand once again pointed at Harry. The child's eyes widened as the green light rushed towards him and screamed as the light connected with his forehead. The light reduced, rushing away from him as their attacker began to scream instead. The pure amount of magic contained within the room caused the building to shake and finally collapse as Voldemort's body was destroyed. A piece of lumber fell onto Jonathan, giving him a jagged cut across his chest.

As Voldemort's spirit fled the freezing charms on James and Lily dissipated and they too collapsed to the ground, covered in the ruins of their house. And that's how they were found in the morning. Lily and James lying in a pile of rubble, and their three children in the nursery, one bleeding from the head, one bleeding from the chest, and one laying cold and unresponsive in her eldest brothers arms.

In the confusion that followed, the celebrations and the grieving, the first child they happened upon, Jonathan, was given the credit for having defeated Voldemort. After all, his scar was over his heart, a place much more often connected to a persons soul and life, while Harry's was only on his head.

When asked what happened to Angel, Jonathan, who was the first to wake as he was not recovering from being hit by the killing curse, told them that she jumped in front of Harry as a green light came towards them. Their sorrow at the loss of their child soon turned to blame, blame on Harry for allowing his sister to die, for not jumping in front of her instead. And while James and Lily had other children, two more girls and a boy, the grief at having lost their first daughter lingered, and turned them against their own son.

As their family grew, they ran out of room in the bedrooms. Jonathan, who was now five and somewhat spoiled from all the praise he received, insisted on having his own room. The two girls, Emily and Elizabeth, aged one and two, shared a room while the newest addition, baby Nicholas, had the nursery. Harry, now six, needed to be moved somewhere.

James and Lily immediately thought of Sirius, Harry's godfather. He had a large house with plenty of space to spare, and two house elves that could look after the child. They just simply couldn't be bothered with him with all the younger children they had.

So Harry was moved into Sirius's house, the old Black manor protected by millions of charms and filled with dark artifacts. The rules were clearly set out for Harry. He would keep to his room, a small space as far from Sirius as possible, as well as his own bathroom and the kitchens where the house elves, Dotty and Spot stayed. Kreacher had been released by Sirius because of his devotion to the late Mrs. Black, and the other two hired.

And so Harry grew up shunned, alone, and bitter, with little more than two house elves for company. The little human contact he did get he wished he didn't. Often Sirius would come home drunk, blaming all his problems on the young Harry. Harry was called worthless, a burden, and worst of all, a killer.

It was after one such beating, a little after Harry's seventh birthday, that he made a decision. He would prove to his family that he had worth. He would prove he wasn't a burden, and he would prove that it wasn't his fault Angel was killed. Stroking the small picture of his younger sister which he had smuggled from the house, Harry called Dotty.

"Yes Little Master?" Dotty asked.

"Does Sirius still have his old school books?" Harry asked the elf, his voice slightly scratchy from the screaming he had done last night. Sirius had been particularly violent and decided to get out some of his parents old 'playthings.'

"Yes Little Master, they's in the attic with all of Master's other school things." Dotty answered.

"Could you bring them to me? I'd like to read them." Harry said.

"Yes Little Master, right away Little Master. Dotty will also call Spot so's to tend to Little Master's hurts." Dotty said, disappearing with a pop. Soon Spot popped in, followed quickly by Dotty with a pile of books. The two elves carefully tended his wounds, healing everything with their brand of magic and a few healing potions.

"Thank you Dotty, Spot." Harry said.

"You's is welcome Little Master." Spot said. The two elves bowed before popping away, leaving Harry to his own thoughts. He picked up one of the first year text books and curled up on his bed to read.

"I'll show them I'm not worthless. I'll make them proud of me if it's the last thing I do." Harry said quietly to himself as he started in on 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.'

Time passed by quickly. Harry remained in isolation at Sirius's house, but often sneaked out to the park to play with the other children. But it wasn't often that he was able. With the elves help he excelled in his studies. He found he had a certain talent when it came to defense, such as curses, jinxes, and hexes, as well as a flare for potions.

Dotty and Spot helped him as much as possible, providing him with potion ingredients and warning him when Sirius returned home. They even found an old wand in the attic, most likely belonging to an old family member of Sirius' that they let him use.

In the years Harry spent confined to Black Manor, he quickly went through many of the spell books, learning them by heart. By the time of his eleventh birthday, he had finished the third year books and was part way through the fourth year texts.

Harry was practicing his spells when there was a tapping on the window. Looking up he noticed an owl. Quickly he moved to let it in and his suspicions were confirmed. It was an acceptance letter to Hogwarts! Immediately he went tearing out of his room.

"Sirius! Sirius, I got accepted to Hogwarts!" Luckily for him Sirius was sober and without a hangover.

"What do you want me to do about it, brat?" Sirius asked.

"I can go, right?" Harry said.

"Ask James and Lily." Sirius said.

"Will you ask them when you go over? Please Sirius? I never get to see them." Harry said. Though he felt sad, he carefully hide his emotions. It kept him from being completely broken during Sirius' violent moods.

"Whatever kid. Go back to your room." He said.

"You won't forget?" Harry asked.

"No, I won't forget, now get out!" he said. Harry quickly scampered back to his room. Apparently Sirius did remember because the next week a scowling James and Sirius were taking Harry shopping for school supplies.

"What else do you need?" James asked impatiently.

"Just a wand, and I don't have a pet. May I have one?" Harry asked politely.

"What do you want?" James asked.

"I don't know. An owl would be nice."

"Pick one and let's get out of here." James said. Harry quickly scanned the petshop. A regal black bird in the corner caught his eye. It was a raven. He moved to stand in front of it and looked straight into it's piercing yellow eyes. It bobbed it's head in a mock bow.

Greetings young one. It said.

I can understand you! Harry exclaimed.

Of course you can. I have chosen you as my Master, young one. The Raven replied.

I'm honored to be chosen by such a regal bird as yourself. Harry said, bowing slightly.

As you should be, young one. I would appreciate it if you would remove me from this shop. the other birds are dull compared to the company of my own kind.

"That's not an owl." James said.

"May I please have him?" Harry asked.

"Fine. Hurry up, we still need a wand." Sirius said. Harry quickly purchased a large cage as well as food for his new bird.

What is your name? Harry asked.

You would be unable to pronounce it in the human tongue. The Raven answered.

Would you object to the name Nevermore? Harry asked.

Is there any significance to it? He asked.

It is from a famous poem called the Raven. 'Quoth the Raven, Nevermore' is one of the most famous lines from it. Harry answered.

It is fine with me, young one. Nevermore replied.

Harry could tell that Sirius and James were growing impatient as Harry searched for a wand. At long last he found one, holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches long. He was swept out of the store before the owner could even finish what he was saying.

Now he only had to survive one more night with Sirius. Easier said then done when he was completely and utterly pissed – in more than one way. Harry could smell the whisky on his breath, so thick it was making him dizzy. At last he was left a broken and bloodied pile on the floor, Nevermore flapping around worriedly in his cage as Dotty and Spot tended to his wounds.

By morning there would be little more than a few sore spots, some scars from the belt, and a bruise or two. He didn't worry too much, knowing he could explain away most of the wounds easily. Instead he went to bed with high spirits. Tomorrow would be the end of his confinement, the end of his exile. Tomorrow he would be free and able to prove himself.