Authors Note: In this universe, the Weasley family attends Muggle primary school before Hogwarts (I figured it might be difficult to attend Hogwarts without being able to write basic English). The Grangers are dentists in Ottery St. Catchpole. Devonshire still has tin mining (to ensure no one asks me why I'm talking about Dartmoor at least 60 years after the end of operations). Canon relationships will be generally what I go for, especially the odd relationship between Ron and Hermione. I like HP/GW a lot, so be forewarned. Also...don't expect anything odd, especially involving good Draco, non-canon homosexuality, and serious departure from the canon. Of course I'll have to change it around somewhat.

Disclaimer: I do not own the intellectual property of the Harry Potter universe. Needless to say, if I did the books would be markedly different (especially the 6th). J. K. Rowling is the owner of the Harry Potter Universe, something which we can all be thankful for since if anyone was foolish enough to leave it in my hands the later books would be about twice as long.

The sun was setting on Privet Drive when the door of Number 4 Privet Drive when the door opened and slammed in the way that signified the arrival of Vernon Dursley.

Harry was, of course, performing his traditional role at dinnertime, cooking for the Dursley family. He would get what was left after Dudley had worked his way through it, which meant nearly nothing. He fried the pork chops in a very high-fat sauce, recognizing that his cousin's appetite would mean the leftovers would be scarce even so. The fatty sauce was as much to sate his widening relatives as well as to ensure that what scraps he got kept him alive.

Vernon Dursley's step was much more airy than usual. Harry turned when his massive uncle entered, sniffing the air.

"Pork chops, then?" he asked, careful to keep any praise out of his voice. The kitchen smelled delicious and Dudley, drooling, looked like he might eat his chair. "Hurry up, boy. I have an announcement but I want to make it while eating!"

Harry didn't say anything. He was used to this sort of treatment. For nearly eight years, he had been the charge of his aunt and uncles. As soon as he could see over the stove, he was frying eggs for breakfast and making Dudley's lunch. His own was generally composed of cold leftovers that he had not eaten the night before.

Watching the meat darken into a uniform light tan-pink, Harry recalled something interesting that had happened to him earlier this week. Having experienced his relative's treatment of anything he said, especially after the "flying motorbike" incident, he did not think it would be good to say anything. He kept the event firmly in his memory.

As he moved the steaming pork chops onto a plate and added it to the casserole, applesauce, Vernon Dursley's ale, and other side dishes he had spent the better part of an hour slaving over, Harry thought about how strange Tuesday had been.

Dudley, of course, made every day hell, especially at lunchtime. It was no surprise that after the lunch Harry made for him, which generally had enough fat to sustain a herd of elephants, Dudley was still hungry. He tended to go for other kids when he wanted more to eat, but Harry was an easy target when he didn't want to go through too much effort. Tuesday was just such a day. Having ensured at least some leftovers by making his relatives several courses worth of food, Harry had managed to save half of a grilled ham-and-cheese melt. Such a treasure, though cold and burnt (Dudley had refused to eat it the night before), was a rare treat. He had nearly gotten it to his mouth when a chubby hand pushed him down and Dudley plus friends were upon him.

Having spent the next minute demonstrating with his body how to be kicked around by snotty little shits, he sat alone, bruised and hungry. Dudley was eating the cold sandwich without any of the disgust he had shown the night before.

He had wanted something to eat badly. Very badly. The sandwich would have made up for several days without more than some fatty scraps. Already skin and bones, he had been afraid to mention that he wasn't fed enough. However, his teachers noticed how little energy he had. It was only a matter of time before they asked and he'd be punished for telling them. He watched the ground as his stomach growled painfully.

Suddenly, there it was. He blinked. It was still there...he must be hallucinating. He couldn't explain how it had appeared. Somehow a bag of crisps had appeared by his feet. Not wanting to attract any attention (the crisps were unopened and one of Dudley's favourite brands), he quickly consumed the contents bag, savouring the opportunity to have something that hadn't been first handed to Dudley.

How had the bag appeared? It was almost like magic.

Harry's reverie was broken by Vernon Dursley's voice rising to an imperious height, evidently intended to travel out the window and alert the neighbours to something. Harry, sitting out of sight, raised himself up to watch.

"I've received a promotion!" he boomed merrily. Petunia screamed. Dudley looked bored. "Yes, yes. Well, the company wants to expand into Devonshire, sell drills to the Dartmoor blokes, you know. I've been promoted to regional manager." He seemed to shake in his seat.

"The only downside," he said with the same merry tone, "is that we'll have to move. The new office is in a village called Ottery St. Catchpole. Nice place. Home prices are very cheap! We can buy a big house… " He tailed off, watching Dudley

Dudley looked livid at the idea of moving. Harry knew why. His corpulent cousin had worked extremely hard to establish himself at the local school and in the neighbourhood. To move meant being in an insecure position. While Dudley might have the experience and size, he still had a physical disadvantage if a bigger and less fat boy came in. "But Daddy, I don't want to move!" he bawled.

Petunia put her had on Dudley's pudgy upper arm. "I know you don't want to leave all your little friends, Dudders, but you can make new ones! We'll have a bigger house and plenty of money…" Dudley did not look convinced, nor did the idea of befriending people even seem to have crossed his mind. Harry could tell he was thinking about something because he looked like he might lay an egg, but what exactly that was eluded him.

Vernon smiled and announced in a tone that denoted finality, "It's settled then! It's too bad Dudley won't finish his education, but at least he can go to Smeltings…it did such good for me…I'm sure we can find a good school for him in Devon before his seventh year."

Petunia lost her giddy expression. "What about Him?" she asked, casting a glance to where Harry waited. "We have to bring him along, don't we? He said we have to keep him until he's 17."

"Sounds like it." Vernon said grumpily. "At least school for him will be cheap."

Harry felt a combination of elation and worry. On one hand, he knew that this was an incredible opportunity for him, being able to go to a new school whose students had not yet been bullied into avoiding him. On the other hand, he was not sure whether his life would improve at all, especially if they moved out of Privet Drive and it's atmosphere of gossip. Certainly there was no telling what the Dursleys might do if they didn't have to worry about keeping a good reputation.

Harry barely noticed the import in his aunt's question. He was too busy thinking about the possibility of having friends.

End Chapter 1

A/N: I won't say I'm not going to publish the next chapter if I don't get reviews, but I very much appreciate them. It certainly will help motivate me. Even if you hate it, I'd love your opinion. Just don't expect me to change it for one person. –Efendi