AN- To be honest, this was an idea that pretty much spontaneously came to mind following me after finishing 'Shinji and Warhammer 40K' (Sort of finishing, it hasn't updated in awhile), when the author claimed that all it took to make one of the most disliked anime characters in existence become the living embodiment of The Rule Of The Cool was to insert Warhammer 40K somewhere along the way. I said to myself, "What other badass and dark franchise could turn any wuss into a hero?", thus I settled on the Nasuverse.
Admittedly, Harry Potter isn't exactly a disliked character who needs a lot of help to become awesome... it was simply one of the better franchises that the Nasuverse could actually affect and would crossover well with. (I deliberated with Yukiteru from Future Diary, Shu from Guilty Crown, maybe even Saito from Familiar of Zero, or perhaps Suzaku from Code Geass... none of them fitted really) Oh yeah, just realised how cool it would be if Suzaku was a Mecha junkie when he ended up piloting the Lancelot. That would be pretty awesome.
Also... this concept requires Harry Potter to play through both Tsukihime and Fate Stay Night... the former of which came out in 2000, and had an English Translation released in 2006. Ooops. As such, simply to make this concept work in the first place, Harry and all of his year group were instead born in 1994 instead of 1980 and both Fate Stay Night and Tsukihime were released earlier, while each had English Translations out. Simply blame Zelretch for this... everyone else does. Nothing else will radically change because of this, the same events will happen as in canon, they shall simply happen later.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just look at me, I write Fanfiction. Would I do this if I actually owner Harry Potter or the Nasuverse? No, if that was the case I'd sit around all day in a money jacuzzi. Harry Potter and the Nasuverse belong to their respective owners, J.K Rowling, Kinoko Nasu, Type Moon, and everyone else.
Harry James Potter was never exactly normal, and was frequently told as such by his relatives. For one thing, Harry was orphaned at a young age, when according to his strict Aunt, his parents died in a car crash in October 1995. Because both Lily and James Potter died in the crash, Harry found himself in the loving clutches of his charitable Aunt and Uncle. Simply replace 'loving' with 'reluctant' and 'charitable' with 'likes to lock their nephew in a cupboard', when describing Harry's relatives, then you would have an accurate description of just what living with Pertunia and Vernon Duresley was like.
Harry couldn't say that he was happy living with the Dursley's, but it was the only life he knew, so as such was used to not feeling that illusive feeling known as love. He couldn't exactly compare what he felt every day to anything else, simply because the only emotion he ever received of his relatives was dislike and resentment, or in the case of Dudley, Harry's cousin, sadistic glee upon discovering he had a punch-bag that would never retaliate.
Another odd thing about Harry Potter, was not necessarily he himself, but the odd events which seemed to surround him. Harry couldn't explain why impossible things seemed to surround him, even at the age of seven, why his teacher wig went blue, or why any of the other impossible things occurred. they simply did.
Suffice to say, the Dursley's weren't pleased about having such abnormality in their relatively normal lives. After all, Vernon Dursley was pleased to be normal, thank you very much, and wanted his family to be as such. So when the ungrateful brat (In his eyes) started to force his abnormality upon his wonderfully average family, he took it as an insult and a challenge. Vernon swore to either stomp the so called Magic out of the brat, or keep him locked up in the small cupboard acting as Harry's bedroom, so that Harry's Magic would never do any damage to his family's every day lives.
The final odd thing about Harry Potter, (Save for the odd lightning shaped scar on his forehead) was that absolutely no one had tried to do anything to help him. Harry had no friends at school, thanks to Dudley and his gang ostracising him. No teachers at school deemed his bullying worth inquiring into, nor thought that his state of second hand clothes and his constantly miserable demeanour was worth looking into. Neither did any women from Social Services came to check up on the well being of a recently orphaned boy. It was rather unlikely that not one person sought to help Harry Potter, yet it still happened. Harry Potter grew up alone and miserable.
Harry honestly saw no point in continuing with his life, even at the young age of seven. The only thing pushing the emerald eyed boy onwards was stubbornness. Stubbornness and the small hope that one day he would be able to escape from his awful life.
This is how Harry Potter would have normally continued his life, up until his eleventh birthday, when he would be told that he would be allowed to attend Hogwarts, a school built to teach young witches and wizards how to use their powers, when Harry would find a new home and friends he could trust, as well as discovering that he had much hardship to overcome. This is how things would normally go, but on this occasion, in this timeline, upon this translucent glimpse into the Kaleidoscope, things changed for Harry James Potter. Some things for the best, other things for the worst.
It all started on a regular Tuesday, during a quite frankly normal lunch hour, when Dudley and his gang were partaking in their favourite past time; hunting down a certain messy, black haired youth. As normal, Harry continued to run away from the unholy quintet of Dudley, Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm. He skidded down the empty hallways and slid across barren corridors, twisting and turning through the sharp, maze like corridors in the hopes of escaping a beating from the bullies.
Harry actually smiled upon realising that his lithe frame was outpacing the think and bulky forms of Dudley and his gang. He couldn't become complacent though, Dudley knew all of his regular hiding places by now, so Harry would need to continue moving in order to stay un-bruised for the day. Unfortunately, Harry was only seven. He couldn't keep up his pace, so slowed to a wheezing stop, having been forced by his complaining body to take a small breather.
All the while, Harry was aware of the incoming march of feet heading his way; the head start he had built up was quickly fading away. Harry wished more than anything that he was far away form this place, from this abysmal world itself. Harry wished he could be whooshed away from all of his troubles, no matter how unlikely such an event would be.
Harry needed to hide. Not for long, simply for a long enough time for the group to pass him by. Harry made the seemingly small decision that would change his life forever, and walked up to the nearest classroom, expecting the door to be locked, and tried to open it anyway. Thus, the young Potter boy was rather excited that the door had in fact opened. He zipped inside, flung the door shut and dropped to the ground, closing his eyes and praying that Dudley would run past.
With open anticipation, Harry waited, hearing the footsteps get closer and closer.
Thud... Thud... Thud... Thud.
The footsteps stopped, Harry held his breath, waiting silently, still with shut eyes, still hoping.
Thud... Thud... Thud!
The footsteps started again, as Dudley swore loudly to one of his friends. They began to walk away. Harry sighed in relief, glad that just this once he had avoided a beating. The seven year old boy stood up, deciding to survey the empty classroom he had barged into, since he had nothing better to do with his time.
It was a computer room. Large, bulky boxes and monitors filled up the desktop space running along the outer rim of the classroom, leaving the centre of the room empty, where Harry walked into as he looked around in amazement. Retro, stylish, new, all of the Desktop computers glowed with a bizarre inner light, highlighting just how mysterious Harry perceived the devices to be. Harry was not exactly computer savvy, the only experience he had ever really had with the puzzling devices was when Dudley received one for Christmas the previous year and had promptly told Harry to never even think of touching it. Because of this, there was a certain alien feeling Harry attributed to computers, so he avoided them like the plague. Here though... he was alone, with nothing but the lightly glowing screens to welcome him.
"Welcome." they seemed to call, "Welcome... why don't you log on?"
Harry seriously wanted to, screw what Dudley said! "What Dudley doesn't know can't hurt him!" or so was the thought process running through Harry's head. He pulled a plastic chair with a metal frame out form the desk, and planted his bottom upon it. Harry blinked, he seemed to have sat something. Reaching underneath himself to fumble for the mysterious object, Harry found a square like envelope.
The envelope was brown and inviting, with frayed edges and was torn along one side to allow its contents to be extracted. Harry knew there was something inside it, something exciting and new. He didn't know how he knew that he had found something remarkable, only that he had!
Shakily, Harry looked round the room, just to check that there weren't any teachers hiding in the corners of the room, or crouching under the desk, just waiting for some poor sap to wander in and pick up the package. Uncle Vernon had drilled it into a five year old Harry's mind that he was not to open any envelopes, even if they were addressed to him, and especially not if they were addressed to someone else.
Harry checked the envelope once more. It wasn't addressed to anyone. Perhaps Harry could disobey his Uncle... just this once. After all, Uncle Vernon only said to never open an envelope if it was addressed to himself or someone else, he said nothing about if there was no address! Upon clarifying that he was in fact completely and utterly alone, Harry tipped the contents of the envelope into his eager palms.
The weight in his two hands was not exactly heavy, far from it, it was very light. Harry held two plain, metallic disks, with a small title printed onto the top surface of each one in thick, sharp text, written on with black marker pen. Harry knew nothing about disks or computers, but he knew that these sorts of disks had to be inserted into those weird slots that open with a press of a button, and that they had to be clean and shiny to work. Turning each over, the disks seemed to be shiny enough and lacked any distinct scratches or marks to impede their performances. Returning them to their face up positions, Harry decided to use his relatively good reading skills (For his age) to try and decipher the names of the disks.
The first one sounded foreign, having been identified as 'Tsukihime', whatever the heck that meant. The second disk seemed much more English, being called 'Fate/Stay Night'.
Harry grinned. He had no idea what these disks contained, only that they sounded exciting and that he had to know what was on them! And luckily for him, there was about ten computers around him to try them out on!
Quickly, Harry logged onto the schools generic account, imputing the basic user name and password that all students are given, then inserted the first disk he looked at into the machine, 'Tsukihime'.
Upon the program starting, he knew his hunch was correct, what he found truly was special. From the first moment that the atmospheric music began to flood the room from the small speakers, to when the first few lines of text showed up, Harry knew that he had found a small slice of if not happiness but excitement, because while Harry may not have been the best reader he was still pretty good for his age and was able to understand the text, so knew that what he was reading no fairy tail...far from it. It was dark, and it was gritty. It was harsh and rough, with only a small, shallow undertone of happiness intertwined within it. It was 'Tsukihime'.
'Suddenly, I awaken with a start.
The night is pitch black.
And no one else in the house.'
For forty glorious minutes, Harry let himself fall into the wonderful story telling of 'Tsukihime'. It was hard work, since Harry was sure that what he was reading much more than he had ever read in a singe sitting... ever. Harry found it difficult, some of the big words used were hard to figure out, most of the terminology made little sense to a seven year old's mind, while other words were foreign and required Harry to puzzle over their meanings for a few minutes each time. 'Tsukihime' just seemed so much darker and mature than anything he had ever read before.
Despite this, Harry continued to read, gaining what little understanding he could fathom, trying to understand what the plot was doing, who the characters were, throwing himself into the mind-frame of young Shiki Tohno, to see just how everything fitted together.
Eventually, things started to make sense for Harry. The tale of Shiki seemed to resonate with him. How could it not? A young boy is involved in an accident and is sent away to live with his relatives because his original family, the Tohno's, disinherited him, because he was anaemic. It loosely matched up to Harry's own situation; he had been involved in a car crash, was sent off to live with the Dursely's and was despised because of something he had no real control over. Just like Shiki, who was disinherited for being anaemic, something he couldn't help!
As the story continued, Harry began to fall more in love with 'Tsukihime', upon realising that there were multiple selections he could use to push the story along. It seemed so... realistic. He could really imagine he was in the position of Shiki, Harry could actually live out another life, deciding things for himself!
Harry had just finished the first meeting with Shiki's sister, Akiha, as well as the second meeting, when he realised that the tone of the story, of the game, was changing. It edged back to the much darker original feeling given off by the prologue. Harry knew that this was definitely not a fairy tail!
After all, that music! And that man... that dark man with the dogs, Harry just knew that he must have been a villain, only a villain could have music such as that accompanying him! In the game world, where Harry was seeing an entire world to live and experience, he knew that the villain would always loose. Even a game like this wouldn't be any different. There was always a happy end, this game would be no different.
"Surely Shiki has to be the hero!" Thought Harry expectantly. There is always a hero and a villain in any story, and in this case it must be an open and shut case. "Shiki defeats the evil, dark man and saves the day, saving the princess in the end!"
That was what Harry thought, at least until he saw (Or read) his new hero cutting an innocent girl into seventeen pieces with a fruit knife, a girl he had never even met before. "How?" Wondered Harry in disgust as he read the graphic description of the girls severed body. He knew he should throw up or something, it was like a bad horror film or something; a film a seven year old boy probably shouldn't watch yet still does. "He was just like me... how could he a kill a girl? Isn't he supposed to be the hero?"
Wordlessly, Harry knew he had to continue. This new world seemed so perfect to him, he got to experience someone else's life, so he had to continue. He had to know why Shiki did it. He had to know if he himself had the potential to do such a thing, since he saw so many similarities between Shiki and himself. Harry believed that he most likely hated his parental guardians, but even so, would he want to see them lying in a pool of their own blood, would he want to have been the one to put them there? Harry didn't know, he didn't really want to know. Either way, maybe seeing the ending to Shiki's story would help him?
The door to the classroom opened with a creak. Harry spun around so rapidly and violently that he almost fell off his chair in surprise. "It isn't what it looks like!" Blurted out the young seven year old boy, as if he had something to hide.
The man that entered the room laughed deeply as he shut the door behind him. Harry immediately noticed that the most prominent feature of the man was his age; wrinkles lined the edges of his face and hands, while his hair was a distinct shade of grey. The man also had a slight beard, highlighting the slight grin etched onto the man's face. "Stand easy, you have nothing to fear." Stated the man as he approached.
"Are you a teacher?" Asked Harry uncertainly. "I mean, most teachers here wear a tie and don't really smile."
"What can I say," Decided the man. "I smile because I enjoy life."
"But are you?" Asked Harry again. "A teacher, I meant."
"I suppose that in a way I'm a teacher." Grinned the elderly gentleman once more. "I have taught one or two people a thing or two, in my time."
"Please don't punish me!" Pleaded the boy honestly. "I just wanted to see what was on the disk!"
The man raised one eyebrow, as if he was not expecting the question. Again, he laughed. "Oh, you mean that?" he pointed at the computer monitor the currently running game was displayed on. "No, I'm not going to punish you for playing a game. That is what children do after all."
"But its not mine!" Blurted out Harry. "I saw it lying there so picked it up."
"No harm done. I had completely forgotten that I left that there."
"This game belongs to you?" Stated the Potter boy in disbelief.
"Yes, I simply left it here by mistake." Explained the enigmatic man with a shrug.
"Does 'Tsukihime' have a happy ending?" Asked the boy, curious to know if the hero, no matter how bad he seemed when he had been playing the game a few minutes ago, managed to defeat the bad guy and save the day.
"It depends." Said the man. "No story has a happy ending, if the hero wins then the villain is sad, while if the villain wins the hero is sad. 'Tsukihime'can have different endings, just like life. You simply need to persevere to find that one ending that you want." Following this, the man turned around and motioned to leave.
"Wait!" Protested Harry. "Mr Teacher... don't you want your game back? I mean, you left it here, and now you're just going to leave without taking it back?"
"Well of course, I already know how it ends, that story is concluded for me, new ones await." The door was opened and the man slipped through, sighing slightly, a smile still proudly worn upon him, leaving no sign that he had ever been there in the first place. "You can keep it, you look like you need it more than I do. Also, play the other game as well... I think you'll enjoy it."
"Goodbye... Mr Teacher." Concluded Harry, happy that the original owner of the game was willing to allow him to keep the disk, as well as the sister game he had not started yet. The old fellow had also resolved Harry's fear that the story would not receive a good ending. All he had to persevere. If he wanted Shiki to not be bad again, he would have to try hard to make sure he stays good next time. He would make sure there would be a happy ending!
DING! DONG! Tolled the school bell signalling the end of lunch.
Harry sighed, so much for finding that happy end. He would have to save and return to class. Perhaps he could come back next lunch time, or even after school, to finish it! Yes, Harry resolved to ask his teacher later on about it. It wasn't like the Dursley's wanted him at home anyway.
Harry saved the game, ejected the disk, and slipped it along with 'Fate/Stay Night' into the original envelope the duo of games came from. He logged off the computer, slipped the envelope into his pocket, and shut the door of the computer room softly behind him as he left.
Time passed by, as time does. Harry received those two games near the end of September; it was now near the beginning of November. He had managed to receive permission from both his teacher and his legal guardians to stay behind after school to use the computers; his teacher agreeing because he saw no reason to not let the boy stay, while Vernon and Pertunia were only to happy to be without him for an extra hour.
Since then, Harry had continued to play 'Tsukihime' with passion, throwing himself into that dark and edgy world every lunchtime (After escaping Dudley's gang) and for an hour after school everyday. It was slow going, and it was sometimes scary to read, but Harry slowly devoured the story with an almost single minded determination to finish the game, to achieve that ever distant happy ending, the ending that seemed so unlikely to occur, as events continued to escalate in Misaki City.
Finally, using his amateur reading skills, Harry finished the game, completing the Arcueid Route with tearful eyes, considering how despite his best efforts, despite all the bad endings he had experienced, the final ending was just so bitter-sweet. It was difficult for a seven year old like Harry to understand how such an ending could come to pass, with the idea of self sacrifice being completely alien to him. Harry couldn't see why Arcueid had to leave, why she had to leave Shiki. Why couldn't she and Shiki stay together forever, like all the other authors in the world would write, if they had the chance to?
They were in love, the hero always gets the girl damn it! Harry didn't really understand love, (although by the way 'Tsukihime' described it, it seemed to be an amazing emotion, one Harry wanted to someday experience himself, although he didn't really like the odd scene where Arcueid took off her clothes. Upon glancing at the scene, Harry had felt really awkward, like he was watching something he shouldn't have been or something, so shut his eyes and held Ctrl until he was pretty damn sure it was over) but he understood enough to know that it was cruel to part the duo from one another at the end, even if Shiki had originally killed her!
Regardless of this, Harry had still reached the end of 'Tsukihime', and he was glad that he had played it. The seven year old was sure that he had matured from playing such a dark game, since he couldn't quite see good and evil, black or white, only different shades of grey now. Harry had lost confidence in heroes in general, they seemed to be almost as bad as the villains themselves if 'Tsukihime' was anything to go by, which was pretty much all the young boy had to base his opinions off, since he owned no books of his own to compare the themes shown.
As Harry lay in his cupboard bedroom the night after completing the Arcueid route, he couldn't quite believe that it was all over, that he was done. That it was complete. Finished. There was nothing to do now. In the past, Harry had been content to do nothing in his free time, simply avoiding his relatives whenever possible. Now though, he would miss spending his lunch and after school time playing that game. It was a fundamental part of his schedule now, so he felt empty without 'Tsukihime' to fall back on.
Harry fumbled in the dark, reaching under his pillow to find the envelope he found all those days ago. Deciding that the contents of the envelope were too valuable to wave around to the world, Harry had taken to hiding his most treasured possessions under his pillow when he wasn't looking at them, only taking 'Tsukihime' out to hide inside a second envelope, that Harry had salvaged from the recycle bin when Aunt Petunia wasn't looking, so that he could smuggle it into school to play.
Harry ran his fingers over the worn envelope, simply basking in the joy that he had something to call his own, a game to actually play, a world that only he knew about to explore. 'Tsukihime' might have been dark, it was the most graphic (And horrifying in some cases) thing he had ever seen or read, but it had still saved Harry from his own despair. The contents of that envelope was his bible, saviour, friend and father, all rolled up into one. Harry knew it wasn't right to think like that, that he shouldn't get obsessed with any one thing, that he should be playing with toys and other children, not reading graphic visual novels... it was just that finding those games had been one of the best things to ever happen to Harry, even if he had only owned them for a month, they were still important to the boy.
Speaking of which, Harry almost giggled with glee upon realising that he had forgotten something very important. "I completely forgot about the second game!" Exclaimed the boy happily. With frantic movements, he tore 'Fate/Stay Night' from its makeshift container, then examined it."Mr Teacher said that I would like this, so maybe I should play it tomorrow? I'm not sure if it'll be as good as 'Tsukihime' but it should be almost as good!"
Suffice to say, Harry had trouble sleeping that night.
Playing 'Fate/Stay Night' was a very different feeling to playing 'Tsukihime', in Harry's opinion. Admittedly, he could tell that they were written in the way, by the same person, (Because Harry had been reading so much due to the nature of how one must play a visual novel, he had become better at it as a result, so was finding it easier to spot such things) but there were some very key differences between the games.
Firstly, the main character. Once again, Harry was able to abandon his own personal reality and take the place of Shirou Emiya across his adventure, but Shirou was still a different person to Shiki, so the thought processes were different. Harry didn't know what to think about playing as a different character to Shiki. Shiki had been a hero to Harry, someone with a similar background to himself, who despite not being a knight in shining armour, despite doing some bad things, despite having the faults that all humans suffer, was still able to do the right things in the end. (With Harry leading his decisions, of course)
Shirou was a different type of kettle, being focused and driven, with a zealous tenacity that the other laid back protagonist simply lacked in comparison. Born amongst hellish fire, with no parents or memories to call his own, adopted by the man who saved him, then taught Magecraft because he desired to be a hero like his father; truly Shirou overcame Shiki when it came to the fan worship Harry felt. Harry still loved the idea of heroes saving the day and getting the girl, so this boy that wanted to become an Ally of Justice resonated with Harry in very different ways.
Both were imperfect of course. Shiki was tempered by his occasional willingness to do bad things, because he was in essence a normal person before he was drawn into the world of Vampires and Executioners, something Harry could relate to.
Shirou however, was shown up as a fake as the story progressed, taking up the ideals of his father not because he wanted to but because he wanted to gain redemption for surviving the ordeal of the Fourth Grail War, while other around him burned to death. A very cheery thought indeed.
As Shirou gradually played the game in his free time after school, he saw horrors far surpassing that of what he saw while running through 'Tsukihime', with events such as the half dead children beneath Kotomine Church etching themselves into his young mind like permanent marker upon a whiteboard, shaping what the young boy began to think about the world as he developed without a role model, to motion him down the correct path in life. Truly, Shirou was a fool, a hero who failed to save everyone like he intended, but pushed on for that outcome regardless, a stubborn act if there ever was one.
Harry could respect that though. He saw Shirou face his demons and overcome them, so decided that he too wouldn't allow his own demons to pull him down, that he would overcome them despite the difficulty, just like his imperfect hero did. A Christian might think 'What Would Jesus Do?', but Harry wasn't taught Christian beliefs, so his personal creed was 'What Would Shirou Do?'; with 'What Would Shiki Do' and 'What Would Arcueid Do' following closely behind, since they were the only other people who's opinion Harry trusted.
Harry still had difficulty understanding the concept of love, even with the additional experience of seeing the thick headed Shirou fall for the noble and chivalrous Saber, it was hard for him to see how it felt, or how it occurred, or why people fought so damn hard for it! (Again, Harry skipped the odd scene where two girls started doing odd things. Two! Harry wasn't sure how long he'd be able to resist finding out what actually happened during these skipped moments, but he was determined to make these ignorant moments last as long as possible) Even so, Harry had figured a bit more about why Arcueid left Shiki, through studying the two new heroes.
Saber left Shirou for her duty, because sometimes experiencing love once is enough, while Arcueid left because she had experienced love and was willing to let it end for the safety of the one she loved. Damn, he respected those two brilliant women for being willing to act so strongly, Harry wasn't sure if he'd be able to act like that.
Harry began to wonder if his own deceased parents loved him enough to do something like this.
Another curious point for the seven year old boy, was why Shirou was willing to let Saber go while Shiki could not. In the end, he assumed that it was to do with how Shirou wanted to follow his ideals to the end or something like that, so could respect the dense superhero for his determination and willpower.
Still, it was now the middle of December and Harry was experiencing the same mournful feeling of completing a game he had felt following 'Tsukihime'. "Perhaps I could replay 'Tsukihime' and find a scene or two I missed last time, I think Ciel Senpai mentioned that there was another route or something. I sort of want to see more on that Ciel lady,, even if she did seem a bit scary." Thought the boy happily as he walked home from school, leaving on the bell for once since he had no plans to stay behind at school and play one of his games, since he only had the recently completed 'Fate/Stay Night' tucked away inside his second hand winters coat.
"Hey you!" Squawked a voice sharply. Harry looked up quickly and saw Dudley and his gang blocking his way. The speaker was a small looking boy that was often compared with a large rat, Harry knew he was called Piers Polkiss and that his presence before him meant things were going to escalate; since one rat meant that others would soon follow.
"Oh," Replied Harry with false confidence. "Its you."
"Where the heck have you been at lunch times?" Demanded the chubby pig leading the group, as he walked up. "Every time we try and find you, you're not there!"
"No where much." Replied Harry quickly, subconsciously tightening his hold on the disk inside his coat.
"You owe us lunch money!" Sneered the equally repulsive boy known as Dennis.
"You know Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never give me lunch money." Protested Harry to the group.
"That doesn't matter." Grunted Dudley as he stormed up to his cousin. "What does matter is that we haven't been able to play with you for aaaaggeeesss!" He emphasised the last word with a beefy finger poke.
"And you know what we like ta play." Agreed Gordon as he cracked his knuckles loudly.
"Harry hunting!" Was Malcolm's response, an equally large grin plastered on his face.
Turning to run, Piers leapt on Harry eagerly, grabbing the one available arm, pulling it sharply behind Harry's back. The boy in question yelped in pain, almost dropping the disk in shock.
"Hey!" Complained Dudley savagely. "Someone grab his other arm."
"No, no, no!" Yelled Harry in distress.
"He won't move Big D!" Explained Gordon as he frantically tugged on the arm clenched tightly underneath the seven year old Harry's coat.
"He's hiding something!" Noted one of the bully's.
"Yeah," Noted Gordon as he scratched his flabby cheeks. "He is."
"Take it off him then!" Stated Dudley, as if it was obvious, which to that group it sort of was. Clearly, Harry was hiding something from Dudley, meaning someone had to have given the freak something. That annoyed Dudley. Only he was supposed to receive presents of people, his mummy had specifically said so after all! Oh well, he'd just prise it from Harry's hands if he had to, then he'd break whatever it was just to teach the freak a lesson.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NOOOOOOOOO!" Cried Harry in despair. The one event he had been dreading had happened, Dudley was going to get his hands on his disk, his precious disk! Harry knew his cousin amazingly well, there was absolutely no chance that he would ever get it back if it was taken from him.
"Damn it! The freak's being- AAAGGHHH! He bit me!" Exclaimed Gordon, releasing Harry's arm so that he could suck his now bleeding index.
"Get it!" Stomped Dudley. "Hold him down, break his arms... whatever!"
"We're tryin'!" Snapped Piers as he continued to hold the pinned down arm he was in possession of, starting to struggle. He was actually leaving finger tip marks in the freaks flesh, he didn't even seem to care!
"NO! NO! NO, NO, NO!" Chanted Harry desperately as two of the boys forced his second arm into the open, along with its valuable cargo, wishing for a miracle to happen. A passing police man, a lost teacher... anything would do!
"I've got it!" Declared Malcolm as he presented the recently thieved envelope to his leader. "Its some stupid envelope or something!"
"NOOOOOOO!" Begged Harry, tears in his eyes. The only things keeping him going now were the two games that old man had given him, he had no other toys, no other things of value to his name, they were everything to Harry! Everything! "Please! Give it back, I'll do anything."
"You want it that bad huh?" Asked Dudley, amusement in his eyes upon watching Harry beg.
"Yes, yes!" He vocalised, openly sobbing now. He was only seven after all, crying was all he could do.
"Yes, yes!" Mocked one boy as the others laughed.
"I don't know." Noted Dennis reluctantly. "He looks like he's hurt... like, really hurt! I don't know Big D, I thought we were just gonna mess him up a bit is all! This just seems... cruel."
"Shut up!" Yelled the spoiled leader. "We're just teaching him a lesson!"
Harry continued to pray for a miracle... nothing happened. He was on his own. Unless he did something, one of his prized possessions would be destroyed before his very eyes simply because there was some stupid, spoiled kids that were jealous of him, who didn't understand just how brilliant the work of Kinaku Nasu was, who couldn't comprehend just how much the dark adventures of Shiki and Shirou meant to him!
How Harry wished he had the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, he would happily cut these fools up! How Harry wished that he had Saber's super strength, or Arcueid's Marble Phantasm, or had some all powerful Noble Phantasm to get him out of the terrifying situation he had found himself in. How Harry wished for a hero!
Unfortunately, such things are only fiction. Harry knew this. There really wasn't a True Ancestor Princess, there were no Servants to call to battle, no heroes to save the day. This was real life, and no matter how much Harry desired otherwise that was how the world was going to stay.
Shiki couldn't help him.
Shirou couldn't save him.
There was no hero around the corner to magic away his problems.
"Magic... magic, if only there was magic in the world." Cried Harry silently. "if only Magecraft existed, at least then I could learn how to use it and gain power of my own, no matter how small it would be!"
"What's this?" Wondered Dudley, as he plucked 'Fate/Stay Night' from its sheathe. "A disk?"
"GIVE IT BACK!"
"What the hell! He's trying to break loose!"
"GIVE... IT... BACK!"
No, there was no magic in the world.
"Stop struggling... you... you... you freak!" Spat Piers, no longer trying to hold back using his full strength to stab his bony fingernails into the boy.
Yes, a freak. Harry was a freak, everyone told him that. Uncle Vernon told him that, the kids at school told him that, the world seemed to tell him that. "Freak... freak... freak.." The harsh reality of the world seemed to state. "Freak... freak... freak... freak..." Was this punishment, was this what he got for existing? Was this happening simply because impossible things seemed to originate around him?
Words hurt, words cut and words burnt. How Harry wished he could forge his heart into steel, how he longed to become immune to such insults.
"No one's gonna help you!"
Yes, no one was coming to help Harry James Potter, like normal. Everything was still the same, nothing was EVER going to change! Harry wanted his game back, these bullies were stopping him, no one was going to help him, so if Harry wanted change, he would have to be his own damn hero!
"WWSD- What Would Shirou Do?" Wondered Harry. "He'd fight for what he believed in, he'd overcome this pain and weakness, no matter what I took, he'd never abandon them! If his body hurt, he'd cut off the pain! If his mind ached, he'd fight unconscious! If he wasn't strong enough, HE WOULD MAKE HIMSELF STRONGER!" Motivation burned deep within Harry, he would be his own hero, he'd be like Shirou and Shiki! Harry could almost hear his hero shouting words of encouragement at him, telling him to get up, to get stronger, to take back what was rightfully his.
"Shirou would reinforce himself." Decided the seven year old. "He'd use the only thing he had in his arsenal to allow him to overcome those that were stronger than him!" As his motivation continued to burn, as all the resentment he had ever felt for the five before him began to accumulate and leak out of him, something unseen and untapped turned themselves on within Harry, something unusual began to leak.
Harry always knew he was abnormal, he was constantly told so by his relatives. Odd things seemed to happen around him, like how the wig of one of his teachers turned blue, or how his hair had magically grown back after being cut off. Surrealism surrounded him, whether he wanted it to or not.
So if Harry made impossible things happen, why couldn't he make it happen again, just this once? Why couldn't this impossibility be tapped, be understood, be controlled? Harry knew Magic didn't exist, everyone knew this! But even so, Harry wanted to thrown logic to the wind, since if he had made one impossibility occur in his lifetime, he could manufacture another!
Unseen power was emitted from an unseen source, and like how Shirou Emiya accomplished the impossible, like how Shiki Tohno achieved the unachievable, Harry decided that he would be damned if he didn't do so too!
"GGIIIIIIVVVEEEE... IIITTTT... BAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK!"
Shirou would overcome his physical limits by reinforcing himself, and Harry wished to imitate him.
As such, Harry's body 'Magically' became stronger, reinforced, able to survive the punishment of suicidally picking a fight against five stronger opponents to retrieve a precious belonging. As such, through pain, sweat and tears Harry overcame Dudley's gang. As such, Harry made the first real change to his life, through his own two bruised, bloodied hands.
Christmas had came and gone for Harry, who was happy for the festive period to be over since it had stopped him from playing 'Tsukihime', with Dudley proving to no longer be a trouble for Harry, and no presents given to him either.
Following the fight, Harry was locked in his 'room' for three days straight, with no food or water... but it had been worth it to the young lad, his dreary, melancholy life had changed. When he was allowed to go to school again, he was no longer relentlessly picked on by Dudley and his gang, since they were now scared stiff of him, so they stopped openly targeting Harry. Admittedly, the other students still ignored him out of habit since the idea that Harry Potter was not to be approached had been rooted deep into their psyche by Dudley, even if the boy in question no longer picked on the outcast, but things could still change.
Things were looking up though. Just before school broke up a girl actually said "Good morning!" to him, with a smile. It was a novel experinece for Harry, to be greeted with no malice at all. This pleasant improvement only got better and better after the holidays ended (when Harry was able to play his video games again) since the other children had begun to talk to him more. (With a cautious degree of reluctance that Harry was willing to accept)
Harry didn't care for these other children though, who were only being nice to him now that Dudley was no longer targeting him. He couldn't bring himself to form any bonds with them... not yet anyway. Harry was content to play his visual novels and dream of a dark world governed by Gaea and Alaya, the spirits of the world and of humanity, of a place where Magecraft could be learnt by those with the potential, of a realm filled with Vampires and inhuman blood; a reality filled with colourful and exotic characters, that were all willing to talk to Harry and give him their advice.
Being like all children, Harry used to have imaginary friends, to play with when he was alone in his cupboard or isolated at school, to talk to when no one else could or would. They never lasted very long though, being replaced fairly quickly since Harry had no experience of how these friends should act, so couldn't maintain the illusion of them actually existing.
Now, he had no imaginary friends. He didn't need them. The only voices he needed to listen to were that of the characters he admired. As he approached the end of the Ciel route in mid February, Harry had taken to asking the same questions that he had wondered during his fight with Dudleys gang."What Would Shirou Do? What Would Arcueid Do? What Would Saber Do? What Would Shiki Do?" They were logical questions, since each of the people mentioned had accomplished amazing deeds, and anything they would do if in his situation, would surely be the right thing to do! (Save for cutting girls into seventeen pieces and other stupid things, but he could forgive them for making mistakes. They were only human... well, half of them were, at any rate)
Regardless, it was so much easier to go about making these decisions if he gave each of his internal heroes a voice and a personality akin to the original ones they were based off; so that's what Harry did. Whenever he was confused or unsure of what to do, he asked these heroes what they would do. "What would you do?" He would wonder.
Saber would normally advise for him to go for the honourable route, the brave one, the hard path that took so much more effort and energy but produced results that you could be proud to look upon. Saber was once King Arthur, so ruled her country kindly but with a strong hand, trying to guide it towards a utopia, meaning that Saber's opinions often reflected her own methods of governing.
For example, when the other kids in school talked about the odd Potter boy, Harry looked inwards and asked Saber what he should do. "Be strong my Paige!" He would almost hear her say. "Don't listen to those fools, a King must always keep calm, must always stay resolute. The gossip of peasants mean nothing to you. In my experience, they can talk all they want about you, so long as they do not question your rule!"
"Let bygones be bygones. If Dudley stays away things will get better, so there's no use in kicking up a fuss over something so small, only to isolate yourself again." Concluded the voice of Shiki, who more often than not recommended that he simply ignore matters, fitting in with his laid back nature. So far, throughout the two months Harry had been using this coping mechanism, there had been no situation bad enough to warrant Shiki advising Harry to fight back, or to act. Unless they threatened him, unless situation demanded that Harry should act, Shiki believed in the path of normality, that you should not stray from your chosen course of action, save for if the fight was worth fighting for... if so, then and only then, you should fight.
"Who cares?" Asked Arcueid cheerfully. "Who cares what they think so long as you get to continue being happy, so long as you get to play your games? Life's about being happy, taking the chance to grasp happiness when and where you can; life is for 'what if's'! Just have some fun~! Prank 'em or something if they continue being spoil sports~!" Arcueid's only opinion in deciding Harry's chosen path was to select the one which made him the happiest, the one that was the most fun. Often, her suggestions were ridiculous, requiring Shiki to talk her down before things got out of hand.
"Calm down Arcueid." Sighed Shiki. "Pranking them is so much effort, it would take so much time, and would only start a prank war or something. Harry can't play his games if he's always on the lookout for the next water balloon."
"Why do you only yell at me?" Frowned the Vampire Princess.
"Calm down you guys." Cried Shirou. "Why can't we all get along! I just want people to be happy! Pranking doesn't save people!" Unfortunately, Shirou was accurate to the source material, being thick headed and stupid, accepting of all people, as well as backing down easily in any argument that occurred inside Harry's head. The only time this did not apply was when Harry had the opportunity to help someone, at which point the figment of the seven year old's imagination became a real pain in the arse. "Lets try and help them! Then they might even like you if you do that!"
"Such a course of action is foolish Shiroo!" Reprimanded Saber sternly. "Not everyone can be helped, and these fools ignored our young Paige when he was in need of assistance, so why should Harry help those that abandoned and ridiculed him? Ignoring them is for the best."
"HA! Those mongrels!" Sneered the final voice in the back of Harry's head, a voice Harry didn't even try to create but just seemed to spontaneously burst into existence, who's only purpose in life seemed to be to give Harry a selfish opinion to counterbalance all the selfless and noble persona's dwelling inside the young boys brain. "Simply humiliate them for daring to mutter such gossip about you." The voice was that of Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, a voice Harry really wished he could get rid of, but seemed to stick around no matter how much he tried to not imagine him saying anything. "You are my Choreboy! Any insult upon you is an insult upon me, so do NOT disappoint the King by doing something foolish like letting them live!"
"How do I represent you when you're just a voice in the back of my head that I made up by accident?" Asked Harry with a slight twitch brushing across his face, much to Dudleys amusement at seeing something irritating the freak, even if he wasn't the one causing the discomfort.
"Quiet Choreboy!" Demanded the figment of his imagination.
"Do not call him your Choreboy!" Snapped Saber. "He is my Paige... and you have been outvoted. Me and Shiki agree with ignoring them, while Shiroo will probably support me over you!"
These internal debates inside Harry James Potter's head never really went anywhere, with the frequent arguments leading to Harry face planting more often than not. Regardless, Harry liked asking these people for assistance, it was as if he had friends of his own.
Harry's eight birthday occurred, with nought but an old pair of socks given to the boy, not that he cared. The son of James and Lily Potter had never been happier; he thrived within the dark realm of the Nasuverse, finding Dead Apostles in every shadow, fighting Ghouls and Familiars whenever he shut his eyes to dream, puzzling out arcane secrets whenever a textbook was opened; to Harry every library had to be the Clock Tower and every teacher had to be a Magus in disguise. The cruel world created by Type Moon was brutal and uncaring, a franchise dark enough to warrant second glances from even adults! The Nasuverse, in a nutshell, was a collection of stories that should probably be savoured as a teen or an adult, so should not be approached by children. Harry didn't know this, and if he did, he wouldn't care either. 'Tsukihime' and 'Fate/Stay Night' was his passion, so with the Unlimited Blade Works route out of the way in 'Fate', and the Ciel route completed in 'Tsukihime', Harry believed that he was starting to understand the full complexity of the Nasuverse, so didn't want to stop puzzling it out until he had the full picture.
His eight birthday also warranted a change in Harry, a change visible to teachers, students and the Dursleys alike. The first thing people noticed, was that Harry cared much more for his academic progress, knuckling down to catch up with his class, even if it did grant him his relatives ire when he surpassed his spoiled cousin in terms of intelligence. Harry wasn't stupid, he simply knew that putting effort into lessons led to the Dursely's becoming irritated, so used to slack off in class since he saw no reason to try. After getting to know Tohsaka Rin during the UBW route however, he couldn't just not put any effort in. Rin became the class idol, even while dealing with her Magecraft studies and her own family issues, so Harry felt he had to do the same. He would imitate the genius girl and continue pursuing knowledge, since that's how a Magus would act!
Heck, Harry began to admire Rin so much that he even developed an extra voice in the back of his head, a voice that could be often heard arguing with Inner Shirou or providing logical answers to whatever question Harry had raised, providing the typical Magus response.
Another change, was in how Harry interacted with others. Dudley was still refusing to go near Harry, and was even cutting down on bullying other people due to the boy threatening him, (At Shirou's insistence. "It's for the greater good! Stopping that tyrant will help the entire class!" He said) but for awhile Harry still seemed distant, unreachable, unrelatable. He became a lot more friendly following the Ciel route, choosing to actively talk to his class mates and enjoy the pleasant normality associated with attending educational facilities. Like his school work, this happened due to what else but video games, effectively giving all politicians claiming that video games made people anti social and violent, the metaphorical middle finger. Seeing Ciel's pain and desire to enjoy the small things people take for granted (Due to missing out on them during her life before Roa possessed her) made Harry realise that he himself only lived once, so should try to enjoy his chance at attending Primary School.
The final change was known only to Harry, although it was just as significant as the previous two improvements. Harry Potter began to try and learn Magic in his free time.
It wasn't surprising that Harry had figured out that he was capable of using Magic. Once upon a time, Harry might have looked upon the impossibilities happening around him with a distant eye, unwilling to relate the acts of improbability to himself, but after the fight with Dudleys gang, one thing was different. Harry had to look back at that time his teachers wig became blue, and that occasion when Harry's hair grew back after being cut, simply because he couldn't isolate himself from those events any longer.
Harry had managed to willingly perform Magic, reinforcing himself so that he did not take the full force of the damage the five bullies had inflicted upon him. Harry knew that it wasn't possible to do such a thing, and the fact that he had meant that the impossible could occur. Magic was real!
So if Magic was real, Harry wanted to learn it! All the best people knew it! After all, Shirou and Rin used Magecraft! Heck, even Ciel could pin her Black Keys into peoples shadows through Magic, thus, he too had to emulate these people!
The going was tough though; Harry didn't spontaneously become capable of slaying Merlin, he didn't develop superpowers overnight, he never became God's gift to Magic in an instant. Far from it, Harry struggled. The now eight year old boy had no mentor to teach him the basics, and no textbooks to inform him of how to activate the amazing power he held, so was forced to figure out everything from scratch. This was particularly vexing for the boy, since the only Magic he had any experience in was that of Magecraft appearing in the Nasuverse. As such, Harry approached Magic as such, following the methods and rules that Rin established concerning Magecraft, while trying to reverse engineer a way of puzzling out his own abilities.
Harry couldn't even figure out how to get his powers to turn on! Looking to the explanation of Magic Circuits for assistance and inspiration (The idea that vessels carry Prana around the body and can be turned on and off), Harry decided to follow Shirou's lead and attempt meditation.
For the first few weeks, the boy tried doing this, spending his free time in his 'room' collecting his thoughts in the silence and trying to 'feel' these vessels, while also thinking of some sort of Aria or incantation to switch his 'Circuits' on. Unfortunately, no progress was made this way. Harry had no idea how to meditate properly in the first place, and didn't really know what to look for since he still didn't wholly understand the mechanics of casting used in the Nasuverse. He also acknowledged that whatever the hell he was doing was probably different to Magecraft, so his attempts were probably useless, but like a certain stubborn hero, he persisted.
After a while, Harry used some of his meditation time to instead look back on the few times he had used Magic, to see if he could analyse something, sort of like a scientist would, since by the way Rin explained Magic, it seemed like Magic was just a branch of science found alongside Physics, Biology and Chemistry, involving the manipulation of reality... or something like that. Harry didn't really know, he was only eight!
After realising that his teachers wig went blue because he was angry, and that he managed to regrown his hair over the course of a night because he desperately desired to not look like an idiot at school, and that his body became reinforced because Harry desired to punch Dudley in the face for stealing his game, as well as all the other little incidents; Harry realised that whatever he had done (Harry still hadn't decided on a name for whatever the hell he was trying to achieve) happened because he had either desperately wanted it to occur, or had been feeling particularly emotional when it happened.
Harry applied his palm to his face in a sign of irritation,as he sat thinking about it during one break time at school. His Magic was linked to his willpower and emotions! It was so obvious!
He could almost hear the sarcastic voice of Rin congratulating him for taking so long to figure it out. "Idiot! Your Magic has always acted in response to your will, you should have seen it earlier!" In a way it was pretty obvious when he looked back at it, but he didn't see how this new knowledge would help him figure out his Magic. "You're still an idiot!"
"Damn it! My Magic's different to your Magic! What would you do then... sensei?" Growled Harry, saying that line out loud in irritation.
"If you can't figure out how to turn your wizardly powers on, then replicate how you were feeling when you did it in the past, then see if anything happens, you idiot!" Inner Rin really seemed to enjoy calling Harry an idiot. Then again, she was about as tsundere as they come.
"Oh yeah!" Smiled Harry. Now, which memory was he to pick, and what magical thing was he to attempt? In the end, he settled on the most powerful feeling he could remember; the time when he fought Dudley, selecting the reinforcement to accompany it. Harry marched over to an abandoned
coffee mug, left behind on a bench by a teacher when an injured boy had required assistance, and decided that he would try to reinforce it.
Harry shut his eyes, thinking back to the day he snapped. He remembered the panic and the confusion, he looked back at the feeling of helplessness that accompanied it, as well as the red veil of anger that seemed to overwhelm him as Dudley placed his sweaty palms over his property! Harry's hand's began to shake, his grip tightening as the memory replayed itself. Tightened throat, wet eyes, burning determination, aching scars, but above all else, one feeling burned strong, one desire had enveloped Harry's being as something previously untapped had opened itself temporarily.
That desire was simple, so simple that even then as he was trying to find it, it slowly hummed within him, desiring to be let loose again. "Screw logic... to hell with this stupid reality! I want the impossible! I want to hunt Apostles, I want to summon a Servant, I want to be a Magus and I want to find The Root and wield a Noble Phantasm and fight for the Grail and meet Shirou and Shiki and all the rest and escape the damn Dusleys... I WISH THE NASUVERSE WAS REAL!" That's what burned inside him, the wish that all those he respected really walked the earth. "I desire the impossible!"
Like a trigger was pulled, something invisible and warm began to flow from what seemed to be the centre of Harry's being into the mug that Harry was gripping. Not like a Circuit though, something didn't flicker on that was always there, no pipes were created to funnel the energy, nothing like that. The feeling was more akin to the pool of energy in his very being moving on its own accord, sending out a tendril of this power through Harry's arm and hand, into the cup, expending the stored power it held to create the effects Harry desired.
Harry let this process continue for a minute, as he continued to focus on that anger and that desire, until eventually Harry could continue no more. With all of his power, Harry lobbed the Mug at the nearby wall; fully expecting the sound of shattering to ring out. Instead, he heard a deep THUD. Opening his eyes, Harry looked at the unbroken mug with a feeling of pride and satisfaction, realising he was one step closer to reaching the impossible.
By the time another year had passed, Harry had managed to advance his Magicraft (As he was now calling it, since giving things names seemed to help organise his thoughts concerning the subject) quite a bit farther, upon the realisation that his Magic was linked to his emotions and willpower. Harry tended to practise his Magicraft in the mainly empty computer room during break or at lunch time, (When he wasn't playing his visual novels. Coincidentally, Harry had slowed down his playing of the games to enjoy them more, so he could understand the concepts better, so had managed to finish off the Akiha and Hisui Routes, and had replayed Fate to try and get a better idea of Rins explanation of Magecraft, for his own 'studies', with studies being used in the barest of ways) since the cupboard under the stairs was dark and enclosed, so it was better suited for meditation rather than Magicraft.
Harry had never stopped meditating, because it was a relaxing exercise for organising ones thoughts and was normally something that wise old men did, so seemed like a cool idea to continue it. After Harry's discovery on emotion and willpower, as well as its relation to Magicraft, meditation became even more important for Harry's magical advancement. The reason was simple, Harry still had no idea how Magic fundamentally worked. The few 'spells' he had ended up developing relied on creating effects through his willpower, so needed to figure out how it actually happens, which meant a whole lot of study into the actual commodity of Magic.
Harry knew that it came from some sort of core inside him, and that it would gradually restore itself after being expended, but had no idea what it literally was or how it worked. The emerald eyed boy did have a basic idea of where the core was located, and had taken to trying to sense the tendril of magical energy he could manipulate, by sending it round his body and sometimes out of his body too, just to see the effect. This was why meditation was a cool skill to have, he could figure out stuff a lot easier when he had a clear head... and stuff.
By this time, Harry had quite a few general 'spells' developed, and felt reasonably proud with the arsenal he had, considering Inner Rin couldn't fault the basic skill set he had in comparison to the Magi of the Nasuverse, who suffered from specialisation due to the Origin and Element of the Magi, something Harry lacked.
The first, and one of Harry's favourite spells, was called Alteration, and was named after the Magi equivalent skill. Admittedly, in Nasuverse Alteration was simply giving an object a property or effect it originally did not have, while Harry's own technique was much more versatile, only being named Alteration for nostalgia's sake. Harry's Alteration, in a nutshell, was basically changing entire properties of an object, changing its shape, appearance, colour, size and density. It was still technically the same object, only changed.
For example, if Harry was to use this technique on a strip of metal, he could 'alter' it so that the shape of the metal was different, extending it into a pencil like shape, while it would still be counted as the original strip, only reformed. It had limits though, Harry couldn't remove concepts or alter those pre-existing in the object prior to the Alteration, like how Harry would be unable to remove the concept of a metal being an electrical conductor from its design.
Spell number two was Reinforcement, which was a copy and paste of Nasu's Reinforcement, since Harry just loved to plagiarise Nasu for all that his franchise was worth. Harry loved to reinforce items already in the world, since it was just so damn easy to do, and had such positive impacts on whatever he was trying to improve. Self Reinforcement was also practised, albeit carefully, to prevent him over-reinforcing himself. That would sort of suck.
Third was Levitation... which did just what it said on the tin. By extending out his 'magical tendril' and attaching it to an object, Harry was able to move it around to a certain extent by spending his Magic, although he was limited in range since Harry could only stretch his energy out by up to three metres, meaning it was actually pretty impractical in most scenarios.
Then there was Transmutation... the act of turning one thing into a completely separate thing, effectively giving reality the middle finger by telling it that an object in question was actually something different all together. Unfortunately, reality tended to be a bitch and figure out it was tricked after a while, so Harry was unable to keep the gold he accidentally created one time, since it eventually reverted back to the plastic from which it was unintentionally forged from.
Much to Harry's disappointment, his attempts to manipulate the four elements of fire, water, earth and air was a colossal failure. He just couldn't figure out how he could produce fire of water simply from using his own Magic. Even at nine, Harry also knew that playing with fire was bad, so experimenting with the elements was something he decided could be left for a while, so as to prevent the Great Fire of Little Whinging.
The Magic he had was enough for Harry to be content with. It was enough to carry out the plan Harry had been contemplating for a while. The project itself was simplistic and basic, with absolutely no forethought put into how the later stages would go down. Thus, it was closer to a general motivation to do something, rather than an actual plan with actual steps. It consisted of a single thing; leave the Dursley's. Join the circus.
To a nine year old it seemed to be a good idea. After all, what kid has never dreamed of running away from home and joining the circus? Harry was just going to follow through on the threat, no more, no less. With his few 'spells' it would most likely be very easy for the boy to pass himself off as a stage magician. Another benefit was that he should hopefully get enough of a pay for him to be able to visit an internet café or two along the way, so that he could finish off the final route for 'Fate/Stay Night' and 'Tsukihime'.
As such, Harry snook small quantities of food away day by day and stored it in his cupboard. After he collected enough to survive comfortably for a week or so, he chucked it all into a plastic bag, along with two bottles of tap water, his two disks and his single pair of loosely fitting spare clothes.
Deciding that he was finally ready, Harry set off on a cloudy Saturday morning, the sort of morning that makes any slightly lazy person lie in for an extra hour or two. The time was around eight, when he was certain that his relatives would all most likely be asleep, so they would be unable to stop him.
"I've done it!" Exclaimed Harry giddily, speeding up as he left Privet Drive behind him. "I've actually escaped from the Dursleys!"
"Don't speak to soon." Snorted Rin. "You've hardly gone fifteen metres from your captors and you're already celebrating!"
"Oh yeah." Realised Harry sheepishly. "I'd better speed up!"
"Ha!" Laughed Gilgamesh haughtily. "So you actually went through with it Choreboy? I'm surprised. After you refused my thoughtful idea of poisoning the whole lot of those mongrels, I thought you were going to take their treatment without complaint."
"Shut up Gil!"
"Indeed." Agreed Saber gracefully. Harry could almost see her scowling at her long time enemy. "It would be increasingly dishonourable to kill ones relatives with poison... no matter how despicable they are."
"Too much effort." Was all Shiki offered.
"The only dishonourable thing is to let mongrels boss you around as if THEY were the ones in charge!" Declared Gilgamesh, stating the fact as if it was the only conceivable option.
"I don't want to kill them though! What sort of hero would kill their own parents?"
"A rubbish one." Suggested Shirou helpfully.
"Bullshit! Of course you want to kill your family!"
"But I don't want to kill my family!" Protested Harry sternly and defiantly, even if a small part of him did in fact want to not so secretly kill his family. Unfortunately, Gilgamesh was something like a subconscious projection of Harry's more rueful potential... so he sort of had a point. "I just want to leave!"
"Ha! That's how all practitioners of familicide started!"
"I do not want to practise familicide!"
"That's a very specific denial, Harry!" Giggled Arcueid internally, seeing the entire argument as nothing more than entertainment.
"How the hell do you even know the word 'familicide' anyway Gil? I mean, if I don't know it how the hell do you?"
"Can't we all just get along!?" Begged Shirou wearily.
"NO!" Was the unanimous response of all parties involved. Harry sighed, feeling as fed up as Shirou with the entire conversation. Seriously, having six voices in the back of your head really makes any road trip a downer, especially if none of them are good travelling companions.
"All of you shut up unless you want me to turn this damned body around!" Snapped Harry as he continued to walk towards the edge of Little Whinging, the plan to run away and join the circus still in full swing.
"Go ahead!" Dared the King of Heroes. "maybe then you'll grow the balls to poison the mongrels!"
"For the last time," Punctuated Harry slowly. "I. Am. Not. Going to. Poison. My relativ-" One moment Harry was on the street corner, his measly belongings trussed up inside his flimsy carrying case; the next Harry was back inside the house he had been trying to escape from. Bright, afternoon sunlight filtered into the hallway he was standing in, through the glass panel in the front door. "Wait a minute... what?" Harry blinked. He blinked again. Blink. Blink. Yes, he was most definitely inside number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. "Seriously. What. The. Hell?"
It did not make an ounce of sense to Harry, how he could he have been full streets away from his relatives house one minute, then returned to his captors the next? It was almost like Magic... hang on... Magic! Of course! Other people must have the ability to perform Magic, Harry realised this months ago, since he wasn't so conceited to believe that he was the only person out there capable of performing the impossible. There had to be some sort of Magi Association or something! Only if there was a group of people running about blanking memories and covering up uncomfortable incidents could Magic have still been unnoticed by the general public and government!
"Boooooyyy!" Came the tyrannical roar of one Vernon Dursley, striding into the hallway that Harry was currently inhabiting.
"What is it uncle?!" Snapped Harry for a change, still internally puzzling over how the hell someone managed to perform TELEPORTATION of all things, how he could replicate it himself, and who the hell would want to perform it on him, as well as why. "I'm sort of facing a crisis here!"
"What the bloody hell are you on about, brat!" Retorted the man greatly resembling a walrus with a moustache. "I don't care what sort of crisis you're on about, but you've been sick in your cupboard for the last four days now! I'm not going to let you slip out of your duties of cooking dinner now!"
"What did you just say?" Harry felt like he had just missed something rather large. "Did you just say I've been sick for four days, and need to make dinner?"
"You heard me perfectly boy! Now get in that kitchen and make me and my family something to eat!"
"That makes no sense." Declared Harry, turning his back on his uncle to think. "What the heck are you on about? I left not twenty minutes ago to join the circus, then found myself here!"
"Then join the bloody circus!" He snapped. "See if I care!"
"Fine then!" Harry took this as an opportunity to leave, grabbing his plastic bag (Which felt lighter for some odd reason) and left. Storming away like the Devil was on his tail, Harry practically ran away from his house, leaving his local area as physically quickly as possible. All the while, Harry kept an eye out for some odd man in black ready to leap out from some old ladies garden and teleport him again. All seemed to be go smoothly, until-
"Damn it!" He cursed, realising he had once more been taken unaware and had been transported back to his house. "I swear to the Root that the next time someone tries to do that, I'm going to get really, really, really annoyed!"
"Oh come on!" The emerald eyed Magic user turned back towards the kitchen, where Petunia Dursley strolled out, looking like terror incarnate.
"Stop dallying in the hallway! You have school today, and you aren't even dressed yet! What would the neighbours think if they knew that you were skipping school? Why, I'd never hear the end of it!"
"First it was Uncle, now its you. Seriously, what is going on?!" At first it was a pretty funny joke, but now it was grating on him like a slab of warm cheddar upon said grater. "Not ten minutes ago he was complaining that I had apparently been sick for four days and that I had to make dinner!"
"Six days actually."
"Six?" The number just seemed to increase, confusing Harry further since nothing around him seemed to be making sense.
"Yes, you only got better yesterday." Concluded Petunia with an upturned nose. "Now get ready for school!"
"Just hear me out," Began the boy, not really liking where the conversation was going. "I think that I must be going mad. I mean, first I leave to join the circus in the morning, then I somehow find myself back in this house with Uncle complaining about dinner somehow. So I left again, found myself here again not ten minutes after leaving, with you claiming that I've been sick for 6 days!"
"That is complete rubbish!" Snapped the spiteful woman. "Stop lying to stall for time, go to school! If not then I'll call Vernon back from work!"
"What's the date!" Yes, the date would be the only way to prove that no time had passed what so ever, so he couldn't possibly have been sick for six days, especially since he couldn't actually remember being sick.
"The eighteenth. Why?"
Petunia was rewarded with seeing Harry apply a palm to his slightly sheepish looking face. Time really had flown by! He had first left the Dursleys on the twelfth. Thus, six days had actually passed. Harry just didn't remember them.
"Come on! I know that I made that whole 'man in a black suit' reference earlier, but memory manipulation! That's conspiracy theory territory damn it!" Whatever next, a school for Magicians? "I totally call bullshit!"
"Watch your language you ungrateful brat!" Following his declaration of bullshit, Harry was clipped round the ears for wasting time. "Go... to... school!"
"No." Harry turned on his feet, plucking his bag from the floor, checking he had all of his previous belongings (His games in particular) and left, slamming the door shut behind him in his haste.
"Little brat." Muttered Petunia, planning how to make the orphans life a living hell when he would have to inevitably come crawling back to her household, since the boy was only nine after all, so could not last on his own in the big, bad, wide world. Unfortunately, she would not remember the conversation between herself and her nephew ever taking place in the first place, so that particular punishment would never actually be implemented.
Harry, now with the knowledge that he had more than likely actually managed to run away for six days from the Durselys, but had been forcibly brought back home, with his memories of the time erased, (Along with the memories of his relatives it seemed) decided to keep his eyes out for Agents K and J as he hastily fled the area. If these potential government dogs ever showed their faces, the boy would be more than happy to introduce them to his Magical talents. Levitating pencils up their nose, through their ears and into any other notable holes in their anatomy would teach them to do any freaky stuff to him!
Again, Harry found himself in the hallway of Privet Drive, no better off than he had been before he started his aspirations of escape, being only slightly more irritated at his situation.
"Oh, its you." Now it was Dudley pestering him! Harry wondered if there were any pencils in the nearby area.
"Now you're talking, Choreboy! I knew you wouldn't be able to resist forever."
"SHUT UP GIL!" Finalised every other voice in Harry's head.
"So you're finally out of bed?" He asked. "I can't say that I care, but I missed tormenting you while you were dead to the world. Seven days, I think."
Not even bothering to respond, the door slammed shut once again. "I only lasted a single day this time. They must be wising up."
"You're right Harry! They're onto us!" Gasped Arcueid, disappointed that she wouldn't be able to participate in an exciting event like the circus. It sounded like a lot of fun, and if there was one thing Arcueid loved, it was fun.
"I need to mix things up a little." A change would be good, the Organisation (As he was now calling them) was clearly closing in on him! Perhaps he should get the authorities involved then? That way he could legitimately change his life for the best, since Harry knew that his treatment at home was probably not normal, when compared to what he heard of classmates in passing and to the home life of both Shiki and Shirou. Perhaps a foster family would be better than living with the Dursleys? No perhaps about it, life would be better in a care home than with the Dursleys.
"Hell yeah! Lets call the authorities, the Allies of Justice of the real world!"
"Shirou, you're having delusions of grandeur again, aren't you?" Shiki could only sigh at his friends antics. As main characters, they had to stick together against the increasing number of Heroines surrounding them. Even so, Shirou had Super Sentai/Batman delusions far too often for Shiki's liking.
"A guy can dream! A guy can dream of guarding the city of Gotham, or driving around on a motorcycle, fighting crime and saving the world... just not while playing card games!"
"Silence mongrels!" Looking inwards, Harry could picture Gilgamesh materialising his Noble Phantasm; Gates of Babylon. Swords, axes and other magical artefacts began to emerge from the crimson depths, ready to impale the fools thinking of just turning over their problems to the proper authorities. "What sort of fools hand off their problems to other people? MONGRELS! That's who! A King solves his own problems, and as my Choreboy you MUST handle your own issues!"
"Shut up you egoistic bastard! Why, if Archer was here..." Rin trailed off, leaving the treat unsaid but implied. She sometimes wished Harry was cynical enough for Counter Guardian Emiya to develop, so that she would have a practical and agreeable ally inside the democracy of Harry James Potter's head, instead of having a pompous prick represent the 'dark side' of Harry's personality.
"HA! Like that Faker could defeat me! Even if he could, he isn't here!"
"But I am!" Shirou prepared to declare internal war on his long standing foe. "Trace... On!"
"SHUT UP BEFORE I THROW THE MOON AT YOU!" The screeching declaration of the strongest persona in Harry's head rang out. Alas, while Arcueid was agreeable most of the time, if she wanted something, she got it. The ability to send the moon out of orbit does that to some people, it makes them more agreeable.
"Regardless, I'm going to the police with this! Let them do something for a change!" With the argument settled thanks to a liberal amount of violence, Harry approached the small building where the Little Whinging Police Department was held. Time for his life to change, once more, or the best! After taking a deep breath, Harry walked into the Police Station.
"CURSE THE ROOT!" Swearing by the only God like deity he approved of, Harry decided to throw in the towel, considering the fact that that attempt had failed too. Yet again, Harry found himself back inside his relatives house. The orphan asked Dudley for the date. It was the 22nd. Apparently the Police required three days to sort thing out. Heck, the whole process was so troubling for the Organisation that Harry was tempted to go out and bother them again, if not for two things.
Firstly, Harry came to this time with a slip of paper in his pocket, stating 'Seriously, stop it.'. Harry didn't really feel like making the Organisation get serious, and any further action on his own end would only irritate them further, make his own studies decelerate, and waste more of his time.
The second thing, was that enough of the Police incident had been lodged into his Aunt and Uncles mind, even with memory erasure, for the couple to realise that if any police came-a-calling then a child living in a cupboard probably wouldn't do them any favours. Harry ended up getting Dudleys second bedroom.
That was good enough for Harry. Again, his own actions had improved his life yet again, just like the fight with Dudley had done. The nine year old was content to simply have a proper bed to sleep in. The fact that Dudley's old computer was stored in his new 'room' and that the spoiled lad never used it any more was just an added bonus, the icing to Harry's cake!
Every Sunday the Dursleys would normally visit the same supermarket to purchase nearly the same goods every week, with no exceptions, save for holidays or special occasions. This periodical trip to the shops was simply one more sign to Vernon Dursley proving his families normality, so had to occur as regularly as clockwork, else his family (i.e Harry) incur his wrath. Not that the man ordinarily accompanied his wife and children to the shops, more often than not he was busy attending social events with clients or workmates, or went to the pub to watch the occasional sporting match. Likewise, Dudley normally escaped this duty by using his friends, or through scrunching up his pig like face and sniffling to his mother so that she would allow him to stay home. Because of this, Harry and his aunt were normally left to it; Petunia to drive the car and boss her young charge around, and Harry to push the trolley and collect the needed goods.
This was one of the few times Harry was left alone with his aunt. Harry didn't mind this much. The trip was an easy way for him to catch a glimpse or two of the more hidden aspects of his guardians personality, beyond the regular 'you're a freak, now make me a sandwich' mind frame. Harry was actually surprised to see that deep down his aunt was a human being like any other, not a heartless monster but a middle aged woman with real fears and real worries, no matter how much they were normally masked by her cold indifference.
This didn't change anything between the two of them. Harry still hated her and all that she represented, alongside her husband and their child. Even through hate though, understanding can be gleamed. One might hate Hitler, for example, but be able to see why the bastard did what he did, what his motivations were. This understanding may not change your opinion of the dictator, but it proves that he was a human like any other, albeit a terrible human that did terrible things, but a human never the less. Harry's thoughts of Petunia were like this. He respected her as a person and understood that perhaps there was more going on beneath the surface concerning her irrational hatred of him and all things 'unnatural' and 'freak like', but still didn't like the woman.
During one of these trips to Tesco, Harry accidentally crashed his trolley into someone else's, sending the pusher to the floor, his trolley flying into the nearby shelf. Several tins of Heinz Tomato soup and assorted cans rolled away from the cringing form of the boy.
"Sorry!" Harry ran over to the man lying on the floor, and prodded him several times. "Hey Mr, are you all right?"
"What have you done this time!?" Screeched Petunia, hurrying over to Harry to pinch one of his ears tightly, before looking down upon the tiny man who was only just climbing to his feet, rubbing his head thoroughly through his large, purple top hat. "Apologise to that poor man! Why, you are so going to your room without supper for a week!"
"No, no madam! I am perfectly fine! I just hit my head is all, no need to panic." Claimed the gentleman in the top hat as he scanned the floor around him, noticing all the misplaced cans. "Why, we'd better pick these cans up before someone trips!" Harry dropped down to his knees to help collect the cans and began to stack them onto the nearby shelf, alongside the diminutive man. "I'd hate for someone to pay a trip to St Mungo, or one of the Muggle equivalents, of course!" Petunia was to busy trying to save face to care what the man was even saying, if she had been paying attention the last sentence would have never slipped past her notice.
"I must apologise for my clumsy nephew, he has little hand eye coordination! You mustn't worry though, Harry will be punished when we return home."
"Hang on a second," He turned to the boy assisting him. "did you just say Harry?"
"That is my name, Harry Potter." Shrugged the nine year old in response, continuing his task with vigour so that he could continue shopping as soon as possible, then return to his room to continue playing the Kohaku route on Dudleys old computer.
"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed, dropping his cans like a womaniser might drop a woman. "Its Harry Potter!"
"Do I know you... or better yet, do you know me?"
"Well everyone knows about Harry Potter! Everyone who's important, of course! Why it is an honour!" Promptly, the top hat was removed as the mysterious fellow gave the orphan a deep bow. "Its such an honour!" He repeated.
"What do you mean?" Harry discarded his own Baked Beans to give him his full, undivided attention, rapid firing inquisitive questions at the man. "How is it an honour? Why do you know me? How do you know me?"
"Oh no, I've said too much! Dumbledore demanded that we keep our distance form you, our meeting was purely by chance!"
"AHA!" The metaphorical light-bulb flashed. "You're part of those damned men in black aren't you? Heck, I bet Dumbledore's the leader of the mysterious organisation you belong to and all!"
"Just what are you two on about?" Petunia paled, realising the name that was just being discussed. "Did you just say-?"
"No, no, no, no!" He backed away from Petunia and Harry, accidentally knocking off some of the cans he had just re-shelved. "I really should stop talking to you now, Dumbledore reeaaaalllly wouldn't like it!"
"Just who the Root is Dumbldore?"
"NO ONE IMPORTANT!" Mysteriously, he turned around in a mysterious fashion, abandoning his shopping in favour of getting the hell out of Dodge. "Goodbye Mr Potter!"
"Just wait a damned minute!" This was a lead, the boy just knew it! This Dumbledore fellow sounded vaguely evil and manipulative enough to have potentially been the guy in charge of the mysterious Organisation responsible for foiling all of his schemes for escaping the Durselys! Heck, if he was lucky he could potentially pin all of his life's woes and worries upon this scapegoat, then spend several years practising a long and complex revenge scheme to get back at this 'Dumbledore' bloke!
Immediately, the Magic in Harry's Magical Core responded to his will, performing Reinforcement upon his body, flooding its power throughout his bones, muscles and tissue, finding gaps which could be filled with its own power, then pumping it through them.
"Get back here!" Petunia tried to follow her unwillingly adopted nephew as he sped away from her, but was unable to keep up. As such, Petunia instead returned to the trolley, content to plot and plan a punishment for Lily's child, for daring to disobey her.
At his Inner Voices encouragement (Particularly Rin, whom demanded the information she and Harry had long been working without), the Magic user tailed after the minuscule figure that had caught his interests. Barely a metre was between them as he spun out of the shop. Less than that as they left the parking lot. Centimetres remained when the man turned into an empty alleyway. Finally, with a desperate lunge forwards, Harry snagged the man's ornate coat sleeve, much to the captives horror when he noticed, particularly since he was unable to cancel the action he had just started seconds before he was caught.
CRACK! The world seemed to distort, blackness invaded Harry's vision, filling his throat with bile and his stomach with acid. He had the distinct feeling of being pressed through a small envelope, while his left hand burned with a nerve wrenching pain to equal the oddity of his present situation. Then after what could be days or seconds, the man and his unwilling passenger found themselves back within the regular plane of reality, safe and sound, although the pain in Harry's hand continued to burn.
"What... just... happened?" Questioned Harry as he staggered away from the man, looking over his surroundings as he did so. He was now in a large, fenced off field, inhabited by sheep, chickens, a few odd ducks near a small pond and the fresh scent of grass layered with dirt. An averaged sized farm house could be seen at the far edge of the grassy plain, though no one seemed to be in.
"Harry... you just did a very foolish thing." Harry had only seen the short man either extremely happy and joyous, or worried and frantic. Now, he was absolutely serious, looking at the tag along with a clear message in his eyes, 'you shouldn't have done this. No, you shouldn't'. "You just Side Apparated several miles to my country estate, and was even Spliced for your troubles!" At this he pointed at Harry's hand, where three of his fingers were missing their nails. "That was very, very foolish! Like, going camping and using a LETHIFOLD as a blanket foolish! Didn't your Muggle relatives ever warn you about the risks of Apparation?"
"No, I don't even know what the hell 'Apparation' is!" Retorted Harry with a scowl. "Also, what the hell is a Muggle?"
"Didn't they tell you anything? What about your parents, He Who Must Not Be Named, the War? I know Dumbledore said you were to be raised by Muggles, but THIS?"
"Again with this Dumbledore bloke!" Harry complained, feeling that the man in question was at the heart of whatever conspiracy he was caught up in.
"Don't insult Albus Dumbledore! He is a great man!"
"But who is he? And what are all these terms you keep using!"
"I shouldn't really tell you anything, you're aunt should be able to explain." He brushed the issue aside.
"No she can't! She does all she can to stomp out my Magicraft! No ones told me anything about Magic, anything I know or can do has been obtained after lots of independent investigation and deliberation damn it!"
At this point, the older gentleman had to think things over for a bit. Clearly James and Lily's son had been told nothing, which Dumbledore had assured him should not have happened. He should have been kept away from the fame and spotlight of being responsible for killing You Know Who, but should not have been ignorant of Wizarding culture in general. Admittedly, Dumbledore specifically told him not to contact the boy as he grew up. Diggle trusted Dumbledore explicitly, but perhaps he could give the boy a hint or two to make things easier later on. Surely the leader of the Light wouldn't begrudge him doing that! "Look, the names Dedalus Diggle. I can't tell you much, but I'll tell you a thing or two before I Apparate you back."
"Right, Diggle." Harry rolled this odd name over in his mouth, thinking of what to ask. There was so much that needed to be answered, and apparently so little time. Eventually, the emerald eyed lad figured out which of his issues should be addressed first. "So there is definitely others who can use Magic?" A nod. "There's a shady organisation to protect Magic's existence no doubt?" Another shaky nod followed. "Well that explains the whole mind wipe fiasco."
"Did you just say 'mind wipe'?"
"Yeah, I kept trying to leave the Durselys, only to find myself back with them with a week full of missing memories between my escape and my return."
"No... Dumbldore wouldn't Obliviate you... would he?" Diggle didn't know. For years now Diggle had been loyal to the elderly Headmaster, even serving with him during the Wizarding War as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Even so, Dumbledore was notorious for doing that which needs to be done. So perhaps the man would manipulate the memories of a young, confused boy? Diggle didn't know. He'd have to get an explanation next time they met.
"Multiple times might I add. Hmmmm... Obliviation... so that's what they call it. Next issue; why do you know me?"
"I can't tell you that! Dumbldore would kill me!"
"Speaking of which, who is he?"
"I can't tell you!"
"Some lot of good your answers are." Huffed Harry. So far he had learnt nearly nothing at all. All he had was a name and a general confirmation that the Men in Black really existed.
"Fine." Diggle sighed. A little info couldn't hurt, could it? "Let's just say that Dumbledore will play a large role in your future, you'll certainly meet him at some point. There's a school, you see. For Witches and Wizards. Expect a letter just before you start your Secondary education, on July the 24th. Yes, that's normally when McGonagall sends out the introductory letters."
"So what, you think I should sit back and do nothing until this Dumbeldore chap is generous enough to tell me everything? That sucks though!"
Diggle approached the boy briskly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes. It does. Then again, so does life. Now I really can't say anything else." CRACK! Again Harry felt himself slotting through an impossible envelope sized gap in existence, followed by dazzling sickness and a sudden materialisation.
"Seriously, you're going to have to teach me how to do that." Harry grinned, teleportation was a cool concept. He wondered if he could figure the trick out on his own using only his incomplete form of untrained Magic, then though otherwise, upon glancing at one of his missing fingernails. He would hate to have a greater accident than that... take losing an arm in transition for one thing. If he was to replicate this technique, he'd have to apply it to things other than himself first.
"Taught in the sixth year." Diggle informed him. "Now I recommend you don't try to do it on your own, for the obvious reasons."
"I figured. Three finger nails were enough for me to learn that lesson, thanks."
"Quite." Diggle seemed to ponder something for awhile, before deciding to go through with whatever he was deciding to do. "Here," The Wizard explored his inner coat pockets, before pulling out a short piece of cardboard and handing it to Harry. "this is my address. In the future you might get into trouble, and I sort of owe you something for holding back so much information, so feel free to send me a letter if and only if you are in desperate trouble. I'll ignore any mail with questions, obviously."
"Thanks, I guess." Harry took the card, memorising the address as he did so.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry Potter. Goodbye!" With another large CRACK, Diggle disappeared before Harry could say ask anything else, leaving the boy alone, feeling slightly less confused than he had before his escapade had began.
Seasons changed and Harry grew older. Now at the age of ten, the boy had successfully finished all the routes for both of his video games, most multiple times, and was glad that he had. 'Tsukihime' and 'Fate/Stay Night' saved him when he was younger. They gave him motivation and a goal to accomplish, as well as providing him with role models to look up to and others to sympathise with. From Shirou's twisted desire to be a hero, to Ciel's wish to die, Harry listened to all their tales, and had taken in all sorts of life lessons from them. So it wasn't an exaggeration to say that those games had saved him. It was merely a fact that they had.
Harry was... content. Yes, content. That was the closest he could of as to what the mixture of melancholy and peace was. Content. There were no new routes to read, but Harry was fine to go back and reread old ones. The boy's magical progress had only sped up after his encounter with Diggle; with minor breakthroughs in Teleportation (Harry had made sure to practise on other things, not himself) and Elemental Manipulation (As seen in the Aunt Marge burnt dress fiasco) being discovered. School was fine. While he had no real friends, no one was particularly vile to him either, and he was consistently in the top five places in the class for all subjects (Much to his families irritation). Home was bearable, if anything. Harry and his family still didn't get along, but after Harry 'accidentally' set his Aunt Marge's dress on fire, when she had visited for Dudley's tenth birthday, and had told his Aunt that he knew about Magic's existence, they had been quite willing to leave him alone. So yes, Harry was content.
There was just over half a year left until that fateful day would arrive for the emerald eyed boy, that July the twenty fourth when a certain letter would be received.
Harry was content, practically happy. He knew such a feeling couldn't last forever. Like Diggle said; life sucks.
"No. NO! What the hell have you done!?" Harry nearly wailed at the sight before him. It was one nearly incomprehensible for the boy. Following Christmas, Dudley had seemed to be rather grumpy and irritable, with no amount of playing with his new and undeserved presents improving his mood. Harry hadn't cared. He had been to busy puzzling over both his and his cousin's holiday homework, as well as replaying the Sakura route to bother. Maybe if he had realised his cousin's nasty mood, the present situation could have been avoided. Maybe Harry's good mood would have lasted.
"What the hell have you done!?" He repeated, literally unable to take in what his eyes were showing him. Two very special disks of his, shattered and cracked, broken beyond any amount of repairable value.
"Something I should have done a long time ago." Dudley grinned, he meant his words. For years now he had sat back and left that freak alone, content to pick on others in the class, so as to avoid another beating like the one his cousin had once given him. That had happened years ago, and he was jealous of just how happy Harry seemed to be. Why couldn't he be that happy? Harry should have been miserable, he'd been given no presents and wasn't allowed out of his own room to play in the snow! Surely he should have been lonely and bitter, not smiling and cheerful? Dudley's friends had all gone on holiday for the duration of the break from school: Piers to Majorca, Dennis and Gordon had gone camping, while Malcolm was visiting relatives in Scotland. Dudley had no one to play with, so felt like he was truly suffering a terrible fate.
Seeing Harry happy made him angry. Very angry. Dudley had decided that it was time to put that freak back in his place, that it was time to show him who was boss! Dudley had remembered that when his gang had cornered him that one time, Harry had been protective of that envelope with a disk in it. What was it called again? Knighted Fate... or something? It didn't matter anyway.
When his mother demanded Harry go out and work in the frosty back garden the day before, to keep him out the way while his father hosted a Christmas meal with some work colleagues, the pig like boy had barged into the freaks room and scanned it from top to bottom, to find that weird disk. Eventually, Dudley had found an envelope inside a large dictionary. The envelope contained the game he was looking for, as well as another one with an odd name.
Dudley then replaced the envelope with an identical one from down stairs, and took his spoils of war back to his lair.
The next day, Dudley took the contents of the envelope out to the local playground and smashed them with an abandoned brick. Following this, the boy had insisted that his cousin accompany him somewhere to 'look at something interesting'. Harry had obliged him since he had nothing else to do, and because he was in a good mood. This led to the sight that Harry despaired so over; his life's single, major happiness destroyed. Ruined. Broken. Unfixable.
"What the HELL have you done!?" In denial, Harry rushed down to his copy of 'Tsukihime' and 'Fate/Stay Night', then carefully cradled all the individual pieces to his chest. They were sharp. Bloody cuts opened all across Harry's arms and chest. He ignored them, picking up the few fragments he had initially missed.
"Hahaha ha!" Laughed Dudley. "Aren't you miserable, freak? Look at those rubbish things. I broke them. They're in pieces! Cracked! Useless! Why the hell didn't I do this years ago? You aren't so hard. Look at you, you're sobbing like a baby! I only wish Piers and the others were here to see this!"
"Do you think this is funny?"
"I said, do you THINK THIS IS FUNNY!" He sniffled as tears dropped to the cold ground and froze, snot ran from his nose down to his chin. Harry hadn't cried since he had read the bitter-sweet ending to the Sakura route. He wasn't going to be able to read it, or any of the other routes, ever again. He just knew it.
"Yeah, I do. Its hilarious!"
"Why? WHY! WHY DID YOU DO IT!? I LOVED THOSE GAMES! I PLAYED THEM AND I PLAYED THEM AND I BLOODY LOVED THEM! Those were a gift from that teacher I once met. He GAVE them to me! These were the best gifts I ever received, they saw me through the good times and the bad times, they showed me miracles and damnations, they taught me so many things, lessons, motivations, glimpses of possibilities! There were PEOPLE in those games, people I loved and befriended! People I admired and hated! PEOPLE THAT LIVED AND DIED! AND YOU KILLED THEM!" By now Harry was pounding his bloody fists on the ground, taking out his sorrow on the cold ground around him. The fragments were all piled into the envelope Dudley had discarded at the edge of the playground.
Sorrow soon turned to anger, then to hate. "A whole world shattered in a single selfish moment! What do you FEEL Dudley? Are you happy now? Is your life significantly better because you stole the SINGLE piece of happiness in my life away from me? Whatever you've gained from this, I hope it was worth it. Because you KILLED Shirou and Rin and Saber and Sakura! You KILLED Shiki and Arcueid, Ciel, Akiha, Hisui and Kohaku! THEY'RE ALL DEAD NOW! All their worries! All their pains and all their happiness! All gone now. Dead. I'll never hear any of their stories ever again, their tale will remain untold. ALL BECAUSE YOU KILLED THEM! SO ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY?!" Hot rage spilled forth from Harry, the ground around him actually cracked. The amount of Magic he was releasing was so potent that even Dudley knew that he had probably gone too far.
Dudley didn't care though. Now Harry was miserable, just like he was! All his friends had gone on holiday, leaving him alone. Well now someone else was as miserable as he was! "It was just a game! Chill out! Just go out and get a job, then buy another one or something. Its just a game!"
"IT WASN'T JUST A GAME! NOT TO ME! IF I BOUGHT ANOTHER COPY, THEN IT WOULDN'T BE THE SAME!"
"I DON'T CARE!" Snapped Dudley suicidally. "I don't care about all those stupid characters you mentioned! They. Are not. Real! You hear me? NOT REAL!"
"THEY WERE REAL TO ME... AND YOU KILLED THEM!" Harry directed the full front of his sorrow and hate towards the person that had caused it. Deep inside, Harry's Magical Core began to fluctuate, sending multiple tendrils of Magic out, saturated with so much of Harry's total Magical energy that they actually became visible, causing Dudley's eyes to widen in disbelief at the writhing constructions.
Dudley was worried now. He'd pushed to far and now his favourite target had snapped, resulting in events he had clearly not foreseen. Events such as weird, freakish tentacle things. "YOU FREAK!" He snapped at the boy. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He turned run, but one of the tendrils used the Magic it consisted of to wrap itself around the boys ankle. He tripped, letting loose a yell.
"I swear to the ROOT that I'll kill you!" Cried the boy. Only one thought was running through Harry's mind, the desire to hurt his cousin, to inflict as much pain as he himself had been forced to feel upon seeing his one treasure smashed on the floor.
As such, Harry hurt him. Keeping the tendrils active was immensely tiring and costly, so he dispelled them. (Not even knowing how he had managed to make his invisible tendrils visible and physical in the first place) Instead, Harry punched Dudley in the face, again and again.
"NO! STOP!" Harry ignored the boy, and punched him again!
"Harry, this isn't right! Stop this now! He's wronged you, but beating him up won't improve matters!" Harry ignored the voice of Shirou, too gripped by his emotions to heed the warnings of the boy who wanted to be a Hero of Justice.
"My Paige! Stop this now! A King must forever be in control of his emotions and actions! Think of us, is this what a Knight would do?" Harry didn't care what a Knight would do. All he wished for at the moment was that he had a Knights sword, not a Knights morals. He didn't know if he'd use that blade or not, if he had one.
"HARRY, STOP! I'M SORRY!" Bones broke under Harry's reinforced fists. His nose, three teeth, his jaw, his wrist. Harry was sure that he could punch through steel if he put his mind to it.
"Ha! Go on, my Choreboy!" Encouraged Gilgamesh."You want this, you know you do! So take it, take your vengeance! He took your treasure, so take his health! Brake his bones. Crack the mongrels limbs! Shatter his legs so that he'll never walk again! DO IT! You know you want him to feel your pain, the pain of losing something permanent!"
Harry listened to Gilgamesh. He wanted this. Harry wanted Dudley to know the consequences of doing what he had done, what destroying the single thing he loved would lead to.
"Harry! Think for a moment, you idiot! Beating up this idiot won't change things! You're games will still be gone!" Implored Rin frantically.
"BECAUSE HE BROKE THEM!" Another fingerbone broke under Harry's assault.
"Harry, this isn't fun! Stop!"
"You don't want this!"
"A hero wouldn't do this!"
"Don't do something you'll later regret!" Harry ignored them all, they were only voices in the back of his head that he had created to keep himself company. They were illusions, copies fashioned after the ones they were based on. They weren't the real Shirou, Rin, Saber and Arcueid. Nothing but shallow impersonations. The real ones were in those disks, and they were broken. Dudley broke them!
Eventually, just one voice had something left to say. Shiki. "Think carefully, Harry. Some things can never be taken back, no matter what you do. One must fight, sometimes even kill, during their lifetimes, but only for the right reason. So by all rights, continue punishing him. He did you wrong, so if you believe the cause is good enough, keep fighting. Just understand the consequences of your actions. If you continue, Dudley might die. Can you live with that? Death is permanent, unchanging,irreversible, you can't take it back. Can you live with taking that brat's life, no matter how pathetic it might be? So think. The choice is up to you."
That brought Harry back to his senses. For Roots sake, he was practically killing a guy! Someone of his own age and his own blood no less! Harry staggered away, panting, looking at his own bloody hands, still cut from the fragments of his disks. They were better off than Dudley was. Harry had really done a number on him with his Reinforced fists, leaving him with all sorts of injuries to remember his folly, with the broken leg, wrists, fingers, nose and jaw being the most prominent. He was alive though! Harry had stopped before things had got to serious, Dudley would live!
He'd be in hospital for awhile though, and it would probably take months for all of his injuries to finish healing. Scars would remain, Dudley would more than likely never be as physically strong as he had once been, and would most likely be confined to a wheelchair for a few months.
Harry was sickened. "What the Root have I done?" Harry hadn't wanted this! He had wanted Dudley to suffer for what he did, to make him feel the pain he had, to convey his anger. But this? No, Harry didn't want to go this far. This wasn't a justified fight against the odds to reclaim a treasured belonging. This wasn't a fight fought for the sake of another. This wasn't just. No, this was revenge, a one sided beat down. He had sunk to Dudley's level, to below it. He had taken out his anger on a spoiled, conceited boy that didn't know any better! Harry did though. He should have been the bigger man. He should have stopped himself. "I didn't want this!"
"But you did, Choreboy." Harry could imagine Gilgamesh grinning, clapping slowly and methodically. "You did want this. You wanted him to suffer, so he did! You desired it, so made it so! Just like what a King would do! It took you a while, but you've finally given in! A true King is selfish, taking what he wants, when he wants. That's what you've done! The mongrel has been deserving this for a while, you just paid him back for wronging you."
Harry ran away from the crime scene, stopping briefly to collect the envelope containing the shattered remains. "I didn't want this! You tricked me!"
"I did nothing of the sort. I advised you to do this, no more, no less. I could only show you the path, you walked down it."
"NO! NO, NO!" Harry stopped running, falling to his knees, unwilling to accept that he had been the one to take out his anger on Dudley. "I admire Shirou, not you! I want to be a hero, not this!"
"I warned you." Said Shiki. "I warned you. I told you that there were consequences. Luckily, you stopped before you killed him."
"You once wondered many years ago, if you would turn out like me, if you would ever do such horrible things as cut an innocent woman into seventeen pieces. Now you have your answer. This wasn't quite cutting a girl into seventeen pieces, but you're getting there. You have the potential to do bad things."
"I'm sorry, I don't want to be a bad guy!" That was true. Harry didn't want to be a villain, he wanted to be a hero like Shirou, or a smart Magus like Rin. He didn't want to be a Kotomine! He wanted to go back to when he was happy, to when he was content, to before he had beaten his own cousin halfway to death. He didn't want to accept that he was capable of such a thing, he wanted to return to blissful ignorance.
"Then repent." Stated Shirou softly. "What's past is past. You cannot redo it, nor go back to it. You live on, so all you can do is look forwards, towards the stars you cannot reach and the wishes that will not be granted."
"Accept it." Stated Shiki sadly. "Inside, all humans are monsters. We all have the potential to do bad things, but some more so than others. Learn from this, accept that you have a darkness inside you. Then tame that darkness and never let it control you! Understand that you have wronged by harming your cousin, and learn from it! Never let your feelings control you like that again, for all life is sacred, so all are valuable."
"But how do I know if I'm doing the right thing? Beating up Dudley seemed like a good idea at the time, so how do I know if I'm acting like a hero... or a villain."
"If you walk down the path that you believe is right, you cannot be wrong." Shirou's voice rung out throughout Harry's mindscape, quoting what his counterpart inside the game had once said. If one believes that their actions are the correct ones, then you're always in the right, you're always making the correct choice.
"Strive for that ever distant utopia that you believe is right, my Paige. Like Shiroo said, so long as you forever fight for what you believe is right, then you're always a hero!" Saber agreed, adding her input to the conversation.
"As much as I hate to agree, a King may only do what he believes is the right thing. Such a creed, even one like you might follow.
"Take responsibility." Glared Rin. "You're only human, do what you can. If you make mistakes, what of it? Everyone else does, you're not perfect. No one is."
"You're right... you're all right." Sighed Harry. Yes, he was only human and all he could do was what he believes is to be the right thing. All he had to do was reign in his temper, his darkness, and never let it control him again. All the while, Harry knew he would mourn for that wonderful world that he lived in and loved for years.
Harry used a public payphone and called for an ambulance for Dudley, then turned himself in. He was given a mark on his Police record and was turned over to his aunt and uncle for further punishment, which he later received. After two weeks, Dudley came out of hospital, in a wheelchair, and tried to avoid Harry, with good reason. Eventually Harry found him alone, then apologised to him. Dudley was surprised and shocked, he would probably thrown the apology back at Harry in disgust, but wasn't suicidal enough to do so after what happened the last time he had pissed the boy off, so instead shrugged, and wheeled away.
Harry never did receive an apology for his broken games and his broken heart. He didn't want them, such things from Dudley would be meaningless and would not change what had happened. He had to look to the future, not the past. Towards the July the twenty fourth that he was looking forwards to.
When Harry was finally allowed outside the house again, on a cold morning in March, the boy took an old shoebox filled with the wrecked remains of 'Tsukihime' and 'Fate/Stay Night' to the playground they were broken in, alongside a small, plastic spade, liberated from the shed earlier on. Harry felt it was fitting for two games filled with such conflict and battle to be buried in the battlefield they were killed on.
The ten year old found a section of grass that was isolated from the rest of the playground, and that was soft enough to dig into, then began to shovel, relishing in the effort of digging a small, dirty hole, just large enough for the box to be buried in.
Harry sat in silence for awhile, thinking of all the good times he had experienced with those two games, the inanimate objects that had saved his childhood. He reminisced of all the funny moments shared with Taiga, of all the calm interludes provided at Shiki's school. Harry gave mention to all the battles that had been fought, all the hardships the protagonists had been forced to endure to get the true, final endings. Every Bad End was noted and relived, every little Tiger Dojo resulted in a small smile gracing Harry's lips. Heck, Harry thought of the stupid moments, such as when Shirou said 'people die when they are killed'. All the heroines were given their credit, of course. From the prime heroines like Arcueid and Saber, to the small ones everyone forgets about, like Hisui and Sakura. The boy savoured the memory of all their best moments, it was the least he could do for them. Hell, Harry even blushed and thought of 'those scenes' that he had eventually built up the courage to read and later shove into the box of memories labelled 'childhood suppressed memories'.
All these little things that made up the Nasuverse, Harry loved them with all his heart.
Harry set the box into the hole, then buried it, covering the worn Nike box with cold, wet dirt. "I'll remember you." He told the grave while fiddling with the home made pendant hanging round his own neck, which was nothing but a piece of string threaded through holes in two fragments of disk, one from each game. "I'll remember you for the good things, and the bad ones. I won't go out and try to replace you with another copy. No, that would be wrong. Wrong and disrespectful. You were my world and you died, nothing will bring you back. If I somehow found another copy of 'Tsukihime' or 'Fate/Stay Night' and played them, I would just be looking through the Kaleidoscope at another persons world. Not mine. The tales I would hear wouldn't be any or yours."
Harry smiled though, it wasn't the end though. He lived on. He would remember that dark and gruesome world forged by Kinoko Nasu. He would carry that place inside his heart forever.
"Don't worry. We're here for you." Spoke Arcueid sadly, if not understanding then at least sympathising with Harry's loss.
"Yes. I'm not alone. Those voices in the back of my head, they may not be real, but I'll treat them like they are. Out of respect for you, Nasu." Harry stood up and gazed towards the morning sunlight, as the sun rose consistently and vibrantly, blessing the world, saying that its not over yet. "I'll carry on, I'll carry their wishes as my own. To me, Rin will always be dead. As such, I'll learn as much Magic as I can, in her place. Surely the Root must exist in some form, so I'll find it for her. I'll carry her burden as a Magus."
The Magic user remembered the dream that in game Emiya Shirou had once fostered; the impossible desire to be a Hero, with all that it entails, as well as the betrayal of ideals shown by him in Heavens Feel. "I'll carry your ideals as well, Shirou. While I can't say that I'll be a hero, or that I'll spend the rest of my life aspiring to save others, I'll still help people when and where I can, you can count on that much. As you say, 'The thought of wanting to help others definitely isn't wrong', so if the chance appears for me to help people, I'll help them. If I ever have to be a hero, I'll do it without regret. And if I ever fall in love, I'll be their superhero, just like you were for Sakura."
As for Saber, his unofficial favourite heroine, there wasn't much to say. "I have no duty to carry out to the end, not like you. I doubt I'll ever need to emulate you, I'm no King. But I'll listen to you, to the truths you told Shirou and the no nonsense that the you in the back of my head will undoubtedly tell me."
Next, Shiki Tohno. "Shiki, you were my first hero, even before Shirou. But you're still human, and you've taught me so much... and I'm sure the aspect of you living in my head will teach me much more in time. You showed me that life isn't shown in blacks or whites, but in greys. So I'll live on, like you told me to, since 'Just living is enough' in your words."
The son of James Potter thought back to all the times he had read about Arcuied and the vampires, how she was the pinnacle of power for him, an unstoppable force of nature... and also, a klutz. "As for you Arcueid... what can I say? Let's just say that I'll have a lot of fun in your place, okay?"
While he was at it, he might as well mention Gilgasmesh as well, since he was apparently important enough to Harry's psyche to get a place as one of the voices in the back of his head. "Gilgamesh, oh Gilgamesh. I don't really like you, but I respect you. You won't be missed, and I don't think I'll enjoy you staying in my psyche, but I guess you're needed. Someone needs to be the voice of my selfishness after all. I think you can foot the bill."
So Harry stayed like that, standing over the makeshift grave as he watched the sun continue to rise, until it finally peaked at midday, enveloping the playground around him within a golden layer of warmth; cold, frosty grass began to thaw. Harry was done, he knew a chapter of his life was over. Soon he would have an adventure of his own to partake in, he needed to move on. "So goodbye and thank you, 'Tsukihime', 'Fate/Stay Night'. Thank you... for everything."
That was how Harry James Potter spent his childhood, immersed in the Nasuverse, surrounded by Dead Apostles and Servants, dreaming of impossible things. That was how life was like, up until the day that the Hogwarts Letter came for him.
AN- Well here we are, the end of Harry's childhood. Bloody hell, I think this was literally the longest chapter I have ever written. Normally, I only peak at 10,000, but for this story I have decided that I'll do 'proper' sized chapters, like all the awesome authors do.
Either way, next chapter we have the Hogwarts letter, and other stuff. Please review and stuff, Undying Soul out.