Yo! This one popped into my head during an MRI the other day, and I liked it a lot, so I decided to go with it. This one will be multiple chapters, one for each of the seven years, probably spread out like the dream chapters are. Thank you to all readers so far!

*First year*

Harry wasn't sure whether he hated or liked the fact that he always stood out from the Dursleys. It was obvious that those three were related-or rather, that Dudley was related to both of the adults, but it was also just as obvious that Harry, well, wasn't. Okay, so technically he was related, since his aunt was his mother's sister, which made her son his cousin, but that wasn't clear at first glance. Or second glance. Or even third glance.

Unlike the brown and blond hair, or the brown and blue eyes his relatives had, Harry's hair was a vivid red and his eyes were a sharp hazel. From one of his aunt's numerous rants, Harry had found out that he had seemingly inherited his mother's hair and his father's eyes. While he kind of would have preferred his father's dark hair and his mother's green eyes, he supposed this wasn't terrible. But the current combination did make him stand out a fair bit, mostly because of the hair.

Still, it had never been a particularly big deal. Well, at least until he ended up finding out he was a wizard, and started appearing in that particular world. It took barely five minutes of being in Diagon Alley for the first time, before the first of the many cases of mistaken identity occurred.

Hagrid had left him alone so he could get a drink, so Harry, feeling rather nervous, entered Madam Malkin's on his own in order to get his robes. But it seemed like he wasn't the only kid in here without any adults around. There was another boy around his age, with a pale, sharp face and blond hair.

Harry didn't like the look of him at all. There was just something about the...haughty expression on his face that made Harry decide on the spot that he didn't want to have anything to do with this kid at all.

The pale boy seemed to decide something similar, because he looked Harry up and down slowly, taking in every detail. His eyes narrowed and he sneered in disgust. "Red hair and hand down clothes? Tch, you're obviously a Weasley."

Harry blinked, his hazel coloured eyes filling with confusion. "E-excuse me? Did you just call me a weasel?"

The other boy's sneer only deepened. "What? Did mummy and daddy not even teach you your own surname? Why am I not surprised? I called you a Weasley, Weasley."

Harry frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about. My surname isn't...Weasley, whoever they are. It's Potter."

The boy froze. His grey eyes widened. "P-Potter?"

"That's right," said Harry, folding his arms across his chest, frown still firmly in place. "Harry Potter."

"Potter!?" The pale boy leapt down from the stool he was standing on, nearly tripping over his still too long robes. "I'm Malfoy," he introduced quickly. "Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand. "You should know that my family is one you'll want to-"

"No thanks," said Harry with a smile. "But I wouldn't mind you pointing me in the direction of those Weasleys you were talking about. I think they sound far more interesting than you."

Laying absolutely still for thirty minutes with cotton pads taped over your eyes (the MRI was of my eyes), and incredibly loud noises blaring in your ears at six in the morning is a surprising way to think of completely weird things. Oh, the MRI came up clear though-nothing to worry about. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!