A raven haired, emerald green eyed boy lay on a small cot in a cupboard under the stairs at number four, Privet Drive. He didn't feel well, and he didn't know why. He felt so bad that he couldn't even get up to cook breakfast for his Aunt and uncle, which would not make them happy. He only hoped that his punishment wouldn't be too severe. The three year old coughed, trying not to throw up. He needed all of the food that he had consumed the night before to stay in his stomach. After all, he didn't know when his aunt and uncle would allow him to eat again.

"Boy, you get out here and cook our breakfast," uncle Vernon said, slamming the cupboard door open and pulling the small boy out by his feet. Harry tried to stand, but his body was too weak. Petunia Dursley walked over and touched the child's forehead. She hated touching the freak, but the last few days she noticed that the boy looked pale, and he would sweat profusely while doing his chores. She glared down at the child before speaking to her husband.

"Vernon, the boy is burning up. If those freaky people happen to come around and notice that we haven't taken him to the doctor, we could get into serious trouble." Vernon wanted to punch the boy at his feet, but he knew that he couldn't because the doctors would wonder how he got the mark. If they looked hard enough the doctors would see old welts and bruises on the child's body.

"Fine," he said. Vernon picked up the child and put him into the car.

When they arrived at the hospital the receptionist took one look at the pale child, and went to fetch a doctor. Soon Harry was on the examining table. The doctor took blood tests, and after several hours the results came back.

"Are you the boy's relatives?" Doctor Peterson asked. Petunia tried to remain when she replied.

"Yes, what is wrong with him?" she asked, hoping that her voice remained neutral. The doctored looked grave.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Mrs. Dursley, but your nephew has Leukemia." Petunia and Vernon couldn't believe what the doctor had just said. They had agreed to take in the boy, but they didn't agree to care for a sick child. Petunia's calm facade fell and she glared.

"That is it; my husband and I are no longer able to take care of the child. I am sorry, but we already have one son and we can't afford him. It was a mistake to take him in to begin with." The doctor couldn't believe what he was hearing. This little boy was just a child, and deserved all the love and affection that a parent could give, and here were these people treating him like he was nothing more than a peace of gum on their shoes.

"I guess I don't have to ask where the bruises came from?" Doctor Peterson asked in a hard tone. Vernon spoke.

"We never asked for the boy, but we took him in out of the goodness of our hearts. My wife and I can not afford him, so you may do with him whatever you see fit. With that, Vernon stood, his wife following suite, leaving a startled Harry alone with the doctor. The doctor tried to smile at the boy, but it was hard to do. He knew that life was going to be hard for this child and he didn't envy him. The doctor had no choice but to call social services. Soon, a caseworker came, and having no foster homes available who would take a sick child, placed him in an orphanage.

The doctor got Harry started on a treatment right away. He had chemo therapy for six months. The little boy soon learned that no one was going to be there when he got sick; no one would be there when his beautiful hair fell out, and no one would be there when it all became too much and he cried. Harry had chemo therapy for a year. He was in need of a bone marrow transplant, but they hadn't found a match. Everyday was a count down for Harry. Everyday he lost more strength, and Doctor Peterson felt sorry for the little boy.

The orphanage wasn't the best place for Harry. It was managed by an old man by the name of Larry Winchester who really didn't care that much for children, but since he was giving money for taking care of the orphans, he continued to keep the orphanage open. He also liked to drink, so whenever he had a little too much to drink he would pick on one of the children. Harry was his favorite. He always made sure to leave Harry alone before he had his doctor visits. It wouldn't do for the doctor to see the bruises on the boy's frail body.

When Harry was five a miracle happened. The doctor had called and told Harry that they had found a bone marrow match. The only problem was that having the operation cost a lot of money, and the orphanage wouldn't help cover the bills. Harry fell into a state of depression. He knew that if he didn't have this transplant, he wouldn't last much longer. Not that the life he was living was grand or anything, but he wasn't ready to die.

"We will figure out something," Doctor Peterson said. Harry tried to muster up a smile, but he failed. Lying on the hospital bed, watching the new and improved chemicals being pumped into his body, he hoped that there was a life, that wouldn't consist of throwing up and trembling from fevers, going to hospitals weekly, and worrying about whether he would live or die. Sighing, Harry fell asleep so that he could let the medicine do its job.

Meanwhile, in Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, pondering the information he had just received in regards to Harry Potter. He had been looking for the boy for a couple years, and he believed that he had found him. A squib who lives in the ghetto area of town next to an orphanage, and she said that she had seen a boy similar to Harry's description running around the orphanage. Albus was a very busy man, and he didn't have time to go and see if the boy that had been seen was Harry, so he would send his potions master, Severus Snape to investigate the situation. Just then a knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," Albus said. A man with long flowing black robes walked into the room and sat in a chair across from the headmaster's desk.

"Severus, how nice of you to drop buy. Would you like a lemon drop, or perhaps a spot of tea?" Severus glared at the headmaster.

"I should think that since you were the one who summoned me to your office, that the normal pleasantries aren't needed. However, if you are trying to caudle me with sweets, in hopes that I will do your bidding, there is no need." Albus chuckled.

"You always did like to get to the point Severus." The potions master just looked at Albus, waiting for the task that Albus wanted him to do. Albus began to speak.

"As you know, Harry Potter went missing two years ago from his relative’s home. After all of my best attempts the boy was not found, until today." Albus explained about the squib and the orphanage, and the glare on the potions masters face intensified. There was no way that he was going to be on a hunt for James Potter's child.

"You know that I would do anything you asked of me headmaster, but this is too much. You know that the boy’s father and I hated each other." Albus's eyes began to twinkle.

"Harry is not his father. He is probably a scared little boy who was dropped off at an orphanage at the age of three by his relatives, who hasn't been shown any love what so ever, since James and Lily were alive. I fear that if the boy isn't saved, then he will end up like another Tom Riddle, and you don't want that, now do you Severus?" Severus shuttered, of course he didn't want to have to deal with another dark lord. Sighing, he conceded.

"Fine, I will go look for the brat, but once I have found him and brought him to you I will have nothing else to do with the boy." Albus's eyes twinkled as if he knew something that Severus didn't.

"Of course my boy, I wouldn't expect anything more from you." Severus muttered under his breath about manipulative headmasters, then quickly rose from his chair and walked out of the office. The potions master walked down to his chamber, grabbed a cloak, and then walked out of the school to the apparation point. Apparating with a pop outside the orphanage where Harry Potter resided.