Ok so I had this idea for a story for a while, by and large I have up till 5th year plotted out in my head, beyond that I don't know. And I decided to start writing it as its more interesting then Canadian trade policy. It's not going to be too AU, really most characters are going to be similar with Ms. Rowling's actual ones in her books. Dumbledore is manipulative but not evil, Snape is a git, Malfoy a rich prat. The main change will be in Harry who will be more skilled and cunning without going too far. I am envisioning cannon partnering but in the distant future as in year 4 plus. And the core group will be Harry, Ron and Hermione, with Ginny, Neville, and Luna coming in later.
Obviously, this is fanfiction and as such the just rather pointless musings of a fan.

I also wanted to note the inspiration of Fate's Second Chance by Neerja in this story. It's a really fascinating story though abandoned several years ago. In many ways I see this story in a similar way, except without any annoying things like soul bonds, or characters with far more knowledge then they should have, or the friendly and helpful Goblins, or magical animagus ect.

As for any questions about how closely it will or will not follows the books. The logic of the story is that all things being equal the story and characters will be the same with the exception of Harry. It is Harry who doesn't have a Horcrux that slowly evolves thus changing the story. That being said when we first meet characters it is reasonable to assume they will be rather similar to what we would have expected from the books. But the further they interact with Harry or people Harry has interacted with the more they will be altered from him. So for example when Hagrid meets Harry things will be rather similar, as for Hagrid little has actually changed, it is only later that Hagrid will think and treat Harry differently. Thus there will be overlap, but it will begin to disappear as the stories progress. If you are looking for a clear break, from the cannon narrative it will occur during Prisoner of Azkaban.

To a certain degree this story is philosophical, in that age-old question how much does one contribute into shaping the world. The story will follow Harry's will to power, and how through it, he is able to change the world but not every action will be shaped by him, so some overplay will happen.

Chapter 1- A New Hope

November 1st 1981.

It was a cold fall night, in the sleepy town of Little Whinging Surrey. Little Whinging is a kind of place that could be called normal almost to a fault, or in other words boring. Just like all the other small communities that circle the great metropolis of London, the houses here all look the same, the cars are all the same, and the people dress the same. It was in one-word suburbia.

Yet on this night something was different. For you see, at the doormat of the fourth house on Privet Drive, there was a baby. Not just any babe but a magical child. His name is Harry Potter. A raven-haired boy, with emerald eyes and a deep infected looking scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Young Harry here had been left at the door of his mother's sister, after the tragic demise of his late parents; Lily and James Potter, who were murdered by a terrible wizard who called himself Voldemort. After killing Harry's father and mother, the dark wizard turned his attention to their young child. Just as Voldemort had done to countless many before, he pointed his wand at his target filled himself with pure hatred and softly said "Aveda Kedavra" as the room filled with flash of green light.

But this time it didn't work. The boy didn't die. The spell, the terrible spell that had killed so many before had bounced of the boy's forehead and rebounded onto the dark lord himself, destroying his body. His mother sacrificing herself for her only son sealed a ritual that protected Harry from death. But Harry was not left completely intact, the curse created a jagged scar on his forehead that seemed to have been infected by some malevolent spirit. The curse scar was inflamed and bleeding profusely. It was so unusual, that even the renowned Albus Dumbledore was at a lost to explain what it was, though he did have his suspicions.

Realising that any more scans were irrelevant, and assuming that all was stable. Albus Dumbledore left Harry in the care of his maternal relatives hoping the boy would have a normal, well relatively normal childhood. Though, safety was the primary concern. Using the shared blood between sisters Dumbledore was able to use his mothers sacrifice to create a powerful enchantment that provided the boy a refuge, protection beyond all others. So long as he lived there with his mother's blood he would be safe from those outside who would want to harm him.

So there Harry lay on cold fall night. But all was not peaceful. Harry was in agony; the scar was burning. Maybe it was Harry's body trying to fight the foreign parasite, or his mother's enchantment defending her son from this evil curse, but whatever it was; it was a life or death struggle between the scar and the boy. The pain being unbearable Harry soon passed from consciousness, but the struggle continued all through the night. Till when morning came and Harry was woken by the shriek of his Aunt, all that was left of the curse was the bloody pus that exuded from the scar and a faint memory of the magic that once was there.

Summer of 1991

It was an oddly warm summer night. So, warm in fact that a 10 soon to be 11-year-old boy couldn't sleep. Instead he just reflected upon his short and so far, unpleasant existence. The boys name was Harry Potter, and he was different, that much he knew. He was a skinny, raven haired, bespectacled boy, with vibrantly emerald eyes and a faint scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his fore head. His parents had died in a car crash when he was enfant and he was sent to live with his 'relatives' the Dursleys (as he refused to call them family thank you very much). His mother's sister Aunt Petunia was a tall and slender woman whose long neck made her appear like a giraffe, Uncle Vernon a large man who has no neck at all, and Dudley his cousin who could easily be mistaken for a pig in a blonde wig. The Dursleys were obsessed with normalcy; from their house number 4 Privet drive, to their car, all they wanted was to be seen as normal, which was something Harry wasn't. To cover up this blight upon their normal world, the Dursleys did everything they could to pretend Harry didn't exist, for years even having him sleep in the small cupboard under the stairs. But it was none of these things that made him different, it was something else something secret.

For you see, young Harry had powers and had so for years. His whole life his relatives had referred to him as a freak.As strange things seemed to happen around him, like when he turned his teacher's hair blue, or had his hair grow back unnaturally fast after a horrid hair cut. No matter how impossible these incidents were, he was always punished. Then one night when he was eight, everything changed. Hungry from having missed dinner and locked in his cupboard, he unlocked the door. How he didn't quite know, one moment he was just laying in his bed deadly focused on opening the door and then he felt a warm tingling feeling shoot out of the depth of his stomach through his arm towards to the lock. Yet, whatever it was that enabled him to open that door he could control, and he was determined that he would control it.

Progress came slowly. But thankfully his relatives often left him alone in his cupboard after he completed his chores. Once his gaol his cupboard was now his lone escape from his dreary existence, a place where he could hone his skills. It took time but over many months he started to make some headway. He became more and more adept at opening and closing locks. It always took a bit of concentration and a wave of his hand but like magic it always locked or unlocked at command.

Next came manipulating light. The cupboard was often dark and when his uncle decided that the boy had no need for his own light, Harry had to make due on his own. It was a rather curious thing, after weeks of practice all he was ever able to do was create a ball of light in his hand, which gave off a bright fluorescent light like they use at school. Although a great improvement the light had to stay in his hand so it was rather impractical most of the time. The blue flame though proved to be far more versatile. He originally created it to provide warmth on cold nights but soon found that the blue flame provided all the light he needed as well, and he could conveniently place to flame in an old jam jar he salvaged from the bin.

Then there were his Jedi powers. He got the idea one night, after watching the Empire Strikes Back. If Luke can move things with the force why couldn't he. First, he tried small things like moving his toy soldiers around summoning, banishing, and levitating them. Larger things seemed to be more difficult, but doable if he could fully concentrate. He even got rather skilled at doing it covertly much to Dudley's pain. Though he kind of felt bad for all present the time he pantsed Dudley, that was a sight that no one should have had to see.

But probably best of all if he focused on being left alone he often would be. It wasn't fool proof and when his relatives or others went out of their way looking for him they would certainly spot him. But if he could stay in the shadows or be places where no one expected him to be, people would often notice him not.

Truth be told, even with his powers his existence was still a lonely one. He was still hounded with chores, still slept in a cupboard, still wore his cousins oversized clothes, had no one to trust or care about, and still had to occasionally dodge his cousin when he played 'Harry hunting'. But with his secret skills in the back of his mind Harry was able to create a mask in which to show the world. A mask that showed he couldn't be brought down, a mask to wear through all the pain, a mask of indifference to those who tried to hurt him.

Just after his 10th birthday, disaster struck. Dudley had a managed to convince his parents into taking him to Thorpe Park. Now normally when the Dursleys go on an outing they would have had Mrs. Figg look after Harry. But Mrs. Figg was out of town for the week, so Harry was left locked in his cupboard while the Dursleys went to the amusement park for the day. As was the norm the moment the coast was clear Harry waved his hand to unlock the door. Normally this was of no concern, normally he was able to judge how much time he would have before they got back, so as to clean up any mess. But this time Harry got too absorbed in one of Dudley's computer games to pay close attention. All of sudden the Dursleys were back early having been forced to leave as Dudley was too large for the kid rides. Taken unaware Harry was caught red handed free from the cupboard, eating Dudley's sweets and playing with Dudley's toys. Seeing his uncle seething in rage with his veins noticeably throbbing Harry did what any rational 10-year-old would do, he ran. He bolted out the door through the back garden and over the fence. He ran till he couldn't run anymore and found himself on the other side of Little Whinging.

Harry didn't really know what to do. If he went back to his relatives Uncle Vernon would skin him alive. He didn't often get the belt, usually they just threw him in the cupboard, but when he did get it, it hurt. And he was certain for breaking out of the cupboard and then running he was going to get the belt and then have a very very long time in the cupboard. Maybe he thought he could get away for good, like he always dreamed of. Sure, the old hope of some long-lost friends of his parents coming to save him had always been a pipe dream. He knew his parents were useless as his relatives kindly reminded him. But what of an orphanage, Uncle Vernon often talked about them and sure he said they were nasty, but compared to the Dursleys they couldn't be all bad. And if they were he could always find someplace else after all. All he needed to do was hop on a train unnoticed and he would be off to London.

London was different then Harry expected. First it was busy, loud and had a bit of smell. Second it turned out orphanages seemed to be a bit of thing of the past. Instead of finding some Dickensian orphanage, Harry or as he now called himself Raven, Raven Evans, was sent to foster parents. A nice older couple from Norwood, which is a rather nice neighbourhood near rather dodgy Croydon in South London. Harry or Raven loved it there, sure he had chores but they weren't anywhere near what he was used to, he had his own bed, but best of all he had a chance to make friends with the other children under their care. A 13-year-old girl named Sally and 9-year-old dark skinned boy named Liam. He couldn't completely let his mask down but he could finally act like a child should. But suddenly this new home was taken from him. After only a week, the police came and took him back to the Dursleys. How they found him he didn't know, he didn't tell anyone his real name, but that scar on his forehead was rather distinct he thought.

His return to his relatives was bittersweet. One the one hand he was back at number 4 Privet Dr. but he wasn't in his cupboard. They gave him Dudley's second bedroom, always gave him three full meals a day, and no longer made him pay his own way with chores. Oh, he had the occasional chore in garden, and had to help his aunt clean up a bit but nothing arduous. Even odder it seemed Mrs. Figg was keeping an increasingly close watch on him. Though for all the material improvements he still hated being back, just as it was obvious the Dursleys hated having him back. Though why they bothered on forcing him to return he just couldn't fathom.