Prologue

Authors Note

Hi guys! Please don't mind any spelling and/or grammar errors, as am currently unbeta'd. SLOW UPDATEDS! Pairings have yet to be decided, but there WILL most likely be slash, so if you don't like it, please don't read, you have been warned! Will be slow-burn, due to character ages. This story is rated M. Comments will be welcomed, but please no flames!

Disclaimer: Sorry, while I am British (passport can't be wrong), I sadly do not have blonde hair, therefore, Harry Potter and all it entails do not belong to me. I do, however, lay claim to my OCs :)

The Dursley family was perfectly normal, thank you very much. At least, they were according to the residents of Private Drive.

Mr Dursley worked at the very reputable drills company; Grunnings, in the city, you know, while Mrs Dursley stayed at home looking after the boys. Although, that didn't mean that she wasn't active in the community. When she wasn't hosting charity events, she was running the local council, and in-between, over-seeing her nephew's education.

Their son, Dudley, was top of his class and well on his way to stardom in the boxing arena. Not only that, but he would be attending the incredibly prestigious Smeltings Academy this coming September.

And last, but by no means least, was poor little Harry Potter, Mrs Dursley's nephew. Little Harry had been found on the doorstep with the milk almost nine years ago on November 1st (one of the coldest nights they'd had so far that year). Naturally, the Dursley family had taken him in, despite Mrs Dursley's horror of finding out her sister was dead.

Everything had been fine for the little family of four, after all the paperwork had been sorted for Harry, of course, until that fateful day when the boys were five. Mrs Dursley had taken them out to the playground to run off some energy and hopefully tire them out for nap time. And, for a while, there was no issue.

Then, The Incident happened. Mrs Dursley had been talking with the other Mums who were there taking advantage of the warm summer's day, when A Man suddenly grabbed poor little Harry. Before anyone could stop him or call the police, he'd pulled out a needle and injected a bright blueish green liquid into the little boy, who instantly began screaming in pain.

Harry was rushed to hospital (The Man having dropped him and ran off when he began screaming) and the police began taking statements of what the residents would later call a terrorist attack, for what else could it have been? Little Harry was a sweet boy and one would have to be crazy to wish him harm!

At the hospital, the doctors couldn't work out what had been done to the boy, or how to reverse it. As they told Mrs Dursley, whatever the experimental drug had been was causing the boy's internal organs to rapidly deteriorate and then heal themselves again. All that could be done was to make Harry as comfortable as possible, and send off for some specialists to try to create an antidote.

And so it was that at the tender age of five, Harry was pulled out of the nursery and put on pain medication, possibly for the rest of his life.

Over the years, the Dursley's found ways to help Harry, along with discovering more issues, such as asthma on top of his diabetes that Mrs Dursley had been told about from her sister.