Disclaimer: I'm a lazy guy, so I'm only putting this up here once and for all. This applies to this entire story, including every individual chapter. I don't own Harry Potter and don't profit from it at all. If I did, this would be canon and not on a fanfiction site.
Book 1: Harry Potter and The Birth of The Gray Lord
Chapter 1: A World of Magic
Harry James Potter was a freak. Harry was a freak whose parents were drunkards that had died in a car accident, leaving him to burden the honorable, noble, and exemplary Dursley family. They raised him, they clothed him, they fed him, they paid for his school and they took care of him from the mercy of their tender hearts even though he was such a freak. And if they tapped him around a bit, well it was only natural to try to knock the freakishness out of him. He was a freak so of course he had to be treated slightly different than their beloved, adorable, brave, smart and perfect son Dudley.
At least according to Vernon and Petunia Dursley. In reality Harry knew he was a different, that he could do special things. No one else could grow their hair out over night or turn their teacher's hair blue or teleport on top of roofs. No one else could talk to snakes like he could as he found out one day when a grass snake slithered by the weed he was pulling out of Petunia's garden. He tried not to do them because that only got him severely beaten with belt or rod or simply the meaty fist of Vernon and thrown in a cupboard for half a week with no food and the only water the drops from the crack in the ceiling that landed in his mouth every once in a while if he positioned himself just right under the leak.
He was smarter than his bloated cousin and faster too, even though he was never allowed to showcase either point or his cousin would whine to his parents and earn Harry another beating. Afterwards Vernon would hold him and let Dudley practice his boxing 'skills' on Harry's ribs. As if the freak could be smarter or faster than their precious baby!
He got beat if he chewed too loudly from the food that barely filled a fraction of the large plate it was presented on (food which he cooked himself and got beat if it was even slightly burned or a bit too salty). He got beat for clipping the flowers a millimeter too much or too little in Petunia's garden that was only in its pristine condition due to Harry's care. He got beat for talking or asking questions and he got beat for breathing too loudly. He got beat if he did poorly in school, and he got beat 'seriously' when he did better than Dudley (which wasn't too good to start with). He got beat if he walked too slow, or walked too fast. He got beat because Dudley was bored from playing with his room full of toys while Harry didn't have a single one, or whining from not being bought the newest one, or mad from failing another test, or on a sugar high from all the sweet candy that wasn't 'as sweet as my widdle Dudders.' He got beat when Vernon went to work, and when he came back and when he went to sleep and when he woke up. He got beat if he did his chores and he got beat 'seriously' if he didn't.
A regular beating was just a few belt whips, or a few rod strikes or a few punches and kicks. Beat seriously was Vernon's definition of beating him until he was black and blue and unconscious to be thrown into his small cupboard and only let out two or three days later. To put it simply Harry couldn't remember a day he had not got beaten for one reason or another. It was a miracle he was still alive since they never took him to the doctors, another reason why he knew he was special. He had seen children that fell on the playground at his school sporting the same bruised elbow a week later while he recovered from bone breaking injuries faster. Of course the Dursley's were careful to never beat him on the face (except on weekends when they knew it would heal up by the time he went to school) and only beat him where his shaggy clothes would cover the bruises up. His natural skin color on his stomach, back and legs was practically blue.
Still, Harry didn't mind the beatings that much. He would always endure them and had gotten used to them by now. What Harry couldn't stand was the psychological abuse. He hated being called a freak. His jaw would close so firmly as to grind shells to dust if they were in between them at the time, his eyes would dilate in ice cold fury, his fists would close unconsciously and something, something special, something powerful, would flare inside him, begging to be unleashed. It was all he could do to keep it in control, not because he was afraid of the beatings since he could endure those, but because he was afraid of that 'something'.
On the 23rd of June, 1990, however, he just couldn't hold it back anymore. It was Dudley's 10th birthday and all his friends were there along with piles of presents. The Dursley's were leaving for a whole weekend starting the day after to treat their son. Harry of course was being left behind, locked in his cupboard since Mrs. Figg had told them she had to go to London during their trip. It was the biggest party Dudley had had to date, and he spent the entire prior week rubbing it in Harry's face, since freaks didn't get parties. The taunting only increased until the day of the party. Dudley and his friends spent the time waiting for the cake playing their favorite game; Harry Hunting. It was bad enough being called a freak by the Dursley's, but all the other kids were doing it too. His blood had been boiling all week, and now it was about to blow completely. Later when the party was over and his friends had left, Dudley got bored and had Vernon tie him up where the piñata had been and began to see if freaks had any candy inside them.
"Hahaha! Freak, freak, freak! Let's see what the piñata freak is hiding inside!" chanted Dudley as his parents laughed and watched the show. "You're nothing but a FREAK!" shouted Dudley as he hit Harry hard on the head with his bat.
That was the last straw for Harry as his vision went red, and he no longer cared about the consequences of that something special inside him.
"I'M NOT A FREAAAAAAAAK!" he roared at the top of his lungs as whatever it was that was holding that something back inside of him shattered and it blasted out of him in a glowing blood red shockwave, the bat shattering into splinters, rocking the house and sending precious Dudders flying into the wall and knocking him unconscious from the sheer power of it. Vernon and Petunia were sent tumbling as the sofa they sat on rolled back from shockwave.
It was over in less than a second, but it looked like a tornado had blasted through the Dursley's living room. Glass shards were littering the floor. The furniture was all toppled backwards forming a circle around the still dangling Harry. Dudley was crumpled up against the wall, Petunia was lying unconscious under the sofa and Vernon was groaning loudly as he held his head in his hands. Harry hung limply from the rope, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging low as he stared at the chaos he had caused.
"Wh-what the?" groaned Vernon as he got up unsteadily. He glanced around, his eyes shaking in fear until he saw the forms of his wife and son. "You did this! I'll show you who's a freak!" shouted Vernon as he charged at Harry and began beating him like never before. He punched him and kicked him and even bit him. Harry cried in pain as he tried to summon that something again, but it only simmered a little inside of him, not enough to be pushed out again.
"I'll kill you freak! We took you in and this is how you repay us? You and your filthy kind, I'll kill you all!" roared the walrus of a man as he broke another one of Harry's ribs. Harry slipped out of consciousness under the heavy onslaught as Vernon kept beating his limp body until he was sweating and heaving. "No. I won't kill you, freak. I'll beat you and beat you again for the rest of your life. Then I'll sell you to a freak circus where you belong," he whispered as he tore the rope apart and flung Harry's body into the cupboard and locked it. He then went and carried his wife and son to the car and drove them to the hospital.
It was dark and empty. Harry was floating in a seemingly endless void.
'Am I dead?' he wondered as he twisted his body around trying to find something, anything in that dark emptiness. No matter how much he turned around, he could see nothing but darkness. Just as he was about to give up, thinking he was truly dead, he felt something pulling at him from above. He looked up to see a slim dark green light as his body started to flow towards it. It grew larger and larger as he neared it, until he found himself standing in front of a closed door, the light escaping through the hinges from inside. Harry carefully placed his hand on the knob, and pushed the door open slowly. The room was exactly like the outside except there were brilliant streaks of green flying around it. As Harry stepped inside he could hear ever so faint voices speaking, calling his name.
'Harry! No, not Harry!'
"Is someone there?" asked Harry hesitantly. As soon as Harry spoke, he became aware of another presence. He twisted around to look into the corner and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he laid his eyes on the most twisted and mangled creature he had seen.
'Oh, you've come at last? Yes, come to me boy,' spoke or rather hissed the voice.
Harry immediately turned around and bolted, screaming as he ran through the door, shutting it behind him and plunged into the void of darkness that was far better than that thing.
Harry woke up sore and in more pain than he could remember feeling. He hurt all over and could barely move as he lifted his head to look around and see that he was inside his dark cupboard. He blinked a few times; confused as to what he just saw, but shrugged it off as a dream. He tried to remember what happened before that and then burst out laughing as he remembered what he had done even though his whole body protested and ached.
"I knew it. I'm not a freak! I'm just special. They can't do that! Only I can." He grinned as he raised his arms and looked at his hands. He could feel it inside of him. It was there, right under his skin, working on soothing his wounds and mending his bones. He could almost see it, barely making it out as it simmered to the top of his skin occasionally, now a slightly blue rather than the flaming red from before.
He threw his head back and laughed again despite the pain it caused, because no pain could hurt him now. He wouldn't be kicked around by them anymore or take being called a freak. He could fight back now. He had power! He could barely contain his excitement as he rolled around laughing, his joy at his new found powers letting him ignore his pain. That was at least until he rolled towards the door and saw something.
His eyes landed on the door knob and he frowned as the full realization came to him. He was still trapped in here and now they would surely kill him for what he did. He grunted as he worked his aching body up and grabbed at the door knob. It was locked. He would be stuck here until they either dragged him out to kill him or starve inside. He would've started crying if it didn't simmer inside of him, stirring around like stew in a pot. He looked down at his beaten, blood covered body and broke into a grin again.
"That's right. I have power now, they can't keep me here. Go, destroy the door!" he yelled as he thrust his hand out, palm facing the door.
Harry frowned as he looked at his hand and thrust it at the door again. "Come on, work! Why won't you come out?" he flailed as he tried to get itto work. It was bubbling right there inside him, but he couldn't move it. "Darn it! Why won't you work! What's the point if I can't even use you!" he growled as he thrust his hand at the door again, but still nothing happened. "Do I have to be angry or something?" he wondered, thinking back to how he used it last night. He closed his eyes and pictured Dudley and Vernon and Petunia all calling him a freak. His fists curled up as he forced himself to think of their abuses.
'Freak, freak, freak! You're just a little freak!' they chanted, over and over in his head. Harry felt it, it was fuming inside him again. His injuries started hurting worse as it stopped trying to mend them and instead gathered up inside him, swirling into a ball of rage. Harry roared as he thrust his throbbing arm at the door and this time it flew out, all of it, smashing the door to pieces and flinging the shards away, taking Harry's rage away with it. He sunk to his knees, exhausted as he felt empty inside. The morning sunlight flew into the cupboard like an over energetic child, but Harry didn't have a chance to enjoy it. He groaned in pain as he sunk further onto his chest and face, laying there unable to move as the pain through his broken body was fully felt. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, he regretted using it now since it had been keeping the pain at bay and fixing him.
Harry groaned as he awoke again. He lay still for a few minutes, trying to overpower the pain, duller now, as he felt it shimmering back inside him. It wasn't shimmering as strongly as he felt before, but it seemed that his power would come back on its own. He grinned as he forced himself up. He was still inside the cupboard, but now it was very bright, most likely around noon time. From the silence and the fact that he was still alive, it seemed as if the Dursleys weren't home yet. Harry pushed himself to his feet and crawled out slowly to find something to eat and drink as his stomach growled at him. Looking up at the kitchen clock showed it was almost eleven. He drank a glass of water as he took out some leftovers and began devouring them with a glass of milk at the kitchen table. The leftovers were stale and hard, but tasted like five star cuisine to Harry. How he wished he could eat like that every day!
After his meal, he sat back to gather his thoughts and make plans as to what he should do next. Clearly he couldn't afford to stay here until the Dursleys got back. But where could he go? There was no one to take him in. He couldn't go to the police either. They would force an investigation and as soon as the Dursleys found out where he was they would have him killed. He saw the remote lying at the edge of the table and picked it up, turning the TV on. It showed the date was the 25th of June. That meant he had been in the cupboard unconscious for an entire day. He recalled that today was the day Mrs. Figg was supposed to go somewhere. He limped over to the window to confirm that her car was still in her lot. He needed to get away from Little Whinging and fast and there was no way he could do that on foot in his current condition. He also needed to get a disguise or Dudley's friends would recognize him if his current plan didn't work and he had to try something else. He limped up the stairs and into Dudley's room. After ransacking his wardrobe he found a pair of old sun glasses that fit over his half broken ones and an oversized cap. If he donned those, he should be able to walk around without being recognized immediately. He helped himself to Dudley's saved up allowance since it should've been his in the first place seeing as he did all the work around here. Afterwards he sneaked into Vernon and Petunia's room and took all the cash he could find from their hidden stash. It was a few hundred pounds and could last him a month if he rationed it properly. He emptied Dudley's school bag and filled it with other necessities such as water bottles and spare clothes.
That done, he slipped out of the house, hopefully for the last time and limped over to Mrs. Figg's car. Luckily the door was unlocked. Harry sneaked into the back of the car where he found an old blanket covered with cat fur. He stashed his bag under the passenger's seat and threw the blanket over himself, praying it was enough to keep him hidden. It was fortunate that Mrs Figg didn't come for half an hour because it took him that long to stop sneezing with all the cat fur. He found himself falling asleep and only shot awake when he heard a door slam and saw Mrs. Figg walk out of her house. He squirmed lower into the seat and hid himself completely under the blanket, praying she wouldn't look in the back. He held his breath as she opened the front door and sat down, throwing her purse into the passenger's seat. He didn't let it out until she started the car and pulled away from the curb and began driving away, humming to herself. He fell asleep shortly after again, his body still aching dully. He snapped awake as he heard the front door slam close. He waited a minute before slowly lifting the blanket off and peeking around. The car was parked in a busy street, probably somewhere in London. As he looked around he saw Mrs. Figg walk toward a building that was...
Hmm, that was weird. Something was keeping him from focusing on the building. No matter how hard he squinted, his eyes would slide away from it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them just in time to see Mrs. Figg walk into the run down building. Again he felt something try to push his eyes away from the building, but he resisted it as best as he could. He continued to fight with it for a minute or so until he began to see a shimmering, colorless haze around the building. At least that was the best way he could describe it. It was like looking out at a distance on a hot, sunny day and seeing the horizon shimmer around. But Harry knew this was no heat wave. It, whatever it was, felt almost exactly like the stuff inside him. Now that he focused on the haze and could see it, he felt his own stuff attracted towards it, as if begging him to go into the building. Harry secured his hat and sun glasses and stepped out of the car, keeping his eyes on the building. He fixed up the blanket to leave no trace of his being there and grabbed his bag. Hesitantly walking towards the building, he saw it transform from a rundown old shop to a fancy bar named The Leaky Cauldron. His jaw dropped as he stared at it. It was like magic! As he walked to the door step, he felt the last bits of the 'haze' pushing him away disappear and he walked inside. Several people looked up at him curiously, but he immediately ducked his head and tried to seem inconspicuous. He saw Mrs. Figg leave out the back door, followed by another elderly man and slowly worked his way over to the back door. He jumped out of it and into an alley way, quickly ducking down into the cover of the shadows. He found to his dismay that he was in a closed alley. He saw Mrs. Figg standing behind the man at one end of it. The man appeared to raise a stick and wave it across the brick wall. Harry's eyes widened as he watched the bricks rearrange themselves and open up to reveal a whole new world behind them. The two walked into the world unhesitatingly and the wall began to close behind them. Unconsciously, Harry raced behind them and dived in just before the wall closed. Harry had always known he was special and now that he had found a special world, there was no way he was going back. He stared all around him, slack jawed and eyes wide in awe. This was surely a world of magic.
AN: I've had this idea for a while now. Hope you enjoyed. Please read and review! Constructive criticism is welcome. Please keep in mind that I was raised in the USA and don't know British English, so they it will likely be wrong as I don't know most of the differences. I'll try my best though.