Chapter 1 – Raven

On the steps of a small ordinary home, on a perfect street, in a normal town there was a baby with midnight black hair, and a curious cut on his forehead. This little baby had just recently been orphaned, his parents murdered by a psychotic wizard. He had been left on the steps of his last remaining relatives with the hopes that he could grow up happy and away from the fame that he had just recently received. He was famous for being the person to bring down the Dark Wizard that no one else could, the cut on his forehead was not normal, and people would remember it, they would revere him for it. But he would not know this until a much later date, all he would know would be a brilliant flash of sickly green light, nothing more.

The old man that left him on the doorstep had high hopes that this boy would grow up normally and away from fame. He really had no idea just how true his dreams would become, just how much of a polar opposite they would hit.Though nothing would happen quite like he hadplanned.

It was in the early morning light that a loud shriek pierced the silence of Privet drive. A woman, a Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who prided herself and her family in being completely normal,had shrieked, and for good reason too. When she had opened the door that morning to put out the milk bottles, an unexpected sight had met her. There on her doorstep was a baby, not just any baby, but her horribly freakish sister's son by the looks of him, and in his list fist was a letter.

Furious, she hurriedly picked up the child and brought him inside so the neighbours wouldn't see—she'd be damned if she'd become the newest topic of gossip. She entered her kitchen where her perfect family currently resided and dropped the basket the boy was in carelessly onto the table.

"Petunia darling what is this. Her husband, Vernon Dursley exclaimed disgustedly when she'd dropped the basket.

"My sister's god awful child, I don't know why we have it" Petunia replied bitterly

"Well it won't be staying here!" He bellowed

"No, it most certainly will not, I will not have it contaminating my little Dudders"

" Well read the letter Pet, then lets get rid of it"

Petunia grabbed the letter from the little fist and began to read, getting paler and paler as she scanned the letter.

"What is it Petunia? What does it say?" her enormous husband asked

" We'll have to keep it for at least two years dear."

"WHAT!"

"It says that someone will be watching for the next two years to make sure he's settled, so we'll have to keep it. After that they'll leave thinking we actually want it. Then we can get rid of it." Petunia spat 'it' like it was a swear word

"Well alright dear, give it some food than clear out the cupboard under the stairs, I'll be damned if I let it take up more room than it needs. We'll wait two years then we can be rid of it. I'm off to work" he said, and then left pecking his wife on the cheek, all the while cursing his bad luck.

And so the woes of Harry Potter took a new turn, the man who'd left him thought that having people watch him would stop the Dursleys from getting rid of him right away, and he was right, however, he also thought that after two years that they would grow attached and all would be well. He wasn't actually going to have anyone watch them, the threat was enough, or so he thought. He never thought that they would only be waiting, not so patiently for the two years to be up so they could get rid of him.

Those two years passed slowly, but gradually. Harry developed fast, because he needed to. If he didn't do something right he would get beaten. Not too severely because he still needed to be able to be seen in public (and be the house slave), but enough to make him determined to get things right on the first try, no matter how hard it was. Of course he still got beaten because he was such a burden, but not nearly as severely. He was a smart little kid, very smart. But he never showed it. He only showed enough intelligence to get his chores done, and to talk when talked to, nothing more. He'd only once made the mistake of looking smarter than his stupid cousin. A mistake he wasn't likely to make again. He could read, slightly. It was a required skill, he had to see what cleaning product to use, and how it was to be used, if he didn't he'd be beaten(and poisoned).

And so the years passed, he was beaten for the things we wasn't big enough to do yet, like the dishes or mowing the lawn. Two years has passed since that awful day that he was left on the doorstep, he was three and a half now; he knew what was coming soon. His 'family' always talked about it like it was the best thing that was ever going to happen to them, and from their point of view, they were right. They were finally going to get rid of him. They had it all planned out.When they made their annual trip to London to go Christmas shopping, the four of them would go to the big city, and only three would come back. He knew his fate, and had accepted the small chance of survival that he had ( it wasn't much).

The Dursleys had covered their tracks extremely well, they'd told the neighbours from the start that he would only be staying two years while his parents were away, a favour Petunia was doing for her sister, who had moved away top another continent, and was doing research for her work, and needed no distractions, and how they were the only relatives that could take him. And that at Christmas after two years, he would return 'home.'

So here he was. His uncle had made a big show of carting a suitcase into the car (so the neighbours would see) and then they all got in, the suitcase was empty of course, he didn't have anything that belonged to him.

His uncle drove into the heart of London, deep into the slums, where he pulled into an alley. He got out of the car, opened theboy's door, and pulled him bodily from his seat. That beating was the worst he's ever gotten, he couldn't move anymore, his whole body was on fire, and still his uncle didn't stop. Finally when he was just on the edge of consciousness, his uncle stopped, spat on him, got in his car and drove away, never looking back. Just as he was shutting his eyes, waiting for the darkness, he felt something warm surround him, and he felt like he was floating, something was making soothing noises, it was comforting, and he let the darkness consume him.

He slowly started to become aware again. Something he didn't truly believe would happen. He figured he was dying, and he had been resigned to the fact that he probably would die. But he didn't feel dead. He felt bad, pain was about all he could feel, and it was everywhere. You weren't supposed to feel pain when you're dead. Coming to the conclusion that he was, in fact, alive. He decided to try and figure out exactly where he was.

He remembered leaving his relatives house, he remembered driving into London, into the slums, getting dragged out of the car, being beaten, and that voice. He remembered someone wrapping him in something warm, he moved slightly, realising he was still wrapped in it, and sighed. He still felt safe, despite the pain, he felt safe.

There was that voice, this time calling out to him. "c'mon lil one ya need ta wake up"

The voice said. He moaned softly. "Ah, see, I knew ya were awake. Ya need ta get up little one, ya gotta open yer eyes." He moaned again. "c'mon now." Resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to be left alone, he finally cracked open his eyes to see dark blue eyes staring into his own emerald green. The face above his was sharp and angular, quite menacing, except for the warm smile currently gracing his features, he had dark black hair, and darkly tanned skin, that was quite dirty. His eyes held power, a power that at the moment was leashed. He was broken out of his thoughts by a question.

"—yer name kid?"

He stayed silent.

" I said wat's yer name?"

He wanted to staysilent again. He really did. He hated his name, it was always said with such venom when his relatives even said it at all (which wasn't often it was always 'Boy')

And apparently he had been thinking for a while because the boy above him spoke again.

"do you not like yer name kid?"

He shook his head.

"tha's alrigh' ya doan have ta use it, I just wanna know it, jus' incase ya know? We can name ya somethin' else' after if ya want, alrigh'?"

He nodded, then whispered "Harry, Harry James Potter. I only like James."

"Well tha's an ok name, we'll call ya James for now. But le's find you a nickname ta use.'old on" he turned towards the door and screamed "DARLA" then turned back again "she'll be 'ere soon. Ah see"

"Davey, what the bloody 'ell do you—oh, he awake is 'e? wha's 'is name then?" the girl, Darla, had shoulder length, dirty blonde hair, with light blue eyes, she was tall and skinny, and would be very pretty, if she wasn't so dirty.

"tha's tha problem Dar, 'e doan like 'is name so we gotta name 'im somthin' else. 'elp me will ya, ye've always bin good at this sorta thing" the boy, Davey, said

"alrigh' Davey. 'ow 'bout Blackie"

"doan wan' 'im ta sound like 'es a dog Dar"

Alrigh' what about Midnigh'?"

"Mmm, maybe I guess, bu' we need sumthin' a lil bit more bold"

"what about Jade?"

"tha's okey, what do you think James?"

He'd been sitting quietly so far so he a bit a startled at being asked, he was never asked his opinion so he kept his voice low when he answered, just in case. " what about a bird, they get to be free, I've always wanted that"

"s'goo' idea" Davey said

"Davey, if 'is name's James, then why're we namin' 'im?

" 'e doan like 'is name Dar, tha's why."

"Oh"

"Yah, oh. Alrigh', a bird… Wha' about Raven, wha' d'ya say to tha'?" Davey said

"Raven's good" Raven whispered, still slightly scared.

"I still think Jade woulda bin goo', fer yer eyes, bu' Raven fits wi' yer 'air, an' i' is yer name after all" Darla said

"alrigh' Raven, yer gonna be stayin' with us from now on. Yeh can mee' tha others later if ya wan'. Sleep now, an' doan move too much, yeh can'nae try ta walk for a' leas' a week alrigh? Yeh need ta heal. Sleep now"

Authors Note:

This story will only span until Raven goes to Hogwarts(there will be a sequal). Should he attend at 11 or later?
Suggestions Needed.

Any suggestions for the scrapes he's get into on the streets are welcome. I have basic plot line but not concrete events.

All ideas will be taken into consideration

This is the second posting of this story, from another account.

REVIEW!