A break in an ancient curse brought upon the line of Morgan sees a change in the hero. Set during 5th year. Our hero will become strong. Darkness; hate; anger, & vengeance befall the line of Emrys, & put to rest the old battle. Then finally the people might stop praising that old basket cases name, & see that history is only written by the victor. Dark-Fem-Harry! Fem-slash!

Crossover - Harry Potter & Buffy: The Vampire Slayer - Rated: T - English - Fantasy/Adventure - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3,916 - Reviews: 30 - Updated: 3/19/2013 - Published: 3/19/2013 - [Willow R., Harry P., Buffy S., Kennedy]

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"Don't you ever think you can let those freaks threaten me!?" the huge man demanded smashing the fourteen year old boy across the small bedroom crashing into a desk, breaking it upon impact, and near breaking the boys back with it, blood splattering from his lips.

The boy could only gasp out in pain as the giant of a brute glared such rage and hatred. Its insurmountable how one huge adult male can hate one child so much, a child he 'raised'.

Apart of the boy, Harry Potter just wished for it to end, his life gone in a blink of an eye. This fat bastard would have his life finally forfeit. He deserves nothing less than death, and he would get the death penalty. However, the rest of him knew one thing important. He's too stubborn to die at the hands of a weak and stupid fat bastard like his Uncle Vernon Dursley.

Harry painfully pushed himself up with a twisted grin stretching to his lips; his emerald eyes alight with anger and madness. It made Vernon stop his advance. Harry has blood drooling from his lips, and as he chuckled it dribbled down his chin, as he pushed himself weakly to his hands and knees.

He's not sure where his aunt or cousin got to but had a suspicion that his Aunt Petunia took his cousin Dudley out. So, she won't interfere as she usually would have when Vernon when too far.

"What's so funny, boy!?" Vernon roared out, his rage coming out louder and stronger than before.

"Oh, dear, dear, Uncle," he said chuckling.

Harry could feel his anger, just there, under the surface of his skin bubbling to get loose like a churning of molten led. It was like a wave of hot and cold, frosts, and embers of a dying flames calling to reignite and scorch this world and his pathetic uncle to dust like a vampire in sunlight, or a stake through its heart, gone, nothing left but bad memories.

The more Vernon and all of his enemies pushed the more he feels the need to burn them to slithers of nothingness. It feels like a storm that's held back by only his stubborn foolishness. His want to be better than those who would harm him, but with every passing infraction upon him. It creates a crack in the damn - a damn the size of a planet, readying it to explode.

He had started feeling this anger, his need to stand up on his own two feet and raise hell to the world that torments him slowly and painfully, grating within his soul, grinding, suffocating like a cloud of thick emptiness obscuring his essence, pushing at his being like carrying a bolder on his back.

It happened shortly after his second year, but more importantly after the incident with The Chamber of Secrets. It's sometimes like he can still feel the basilisk venom swelling through his veins fighting something, something other than the phoenix tears that had saved his life. It fights the oppression, the cloud that holds him down, and holds back: a font of… him.

It seems as if the more he's hurt, the more his adrenalin pumps, the more he feels like this. It's like his anger, his hatred, his mind, body and soul is locked away in a heavy duty vault guarded by the goblins of Gringotts, and dragons, but with this venom; it had been slowly eating away at the walls, creating a new way out: a way for freedom. He was letting out his anger, his rage, and his negative emotions.

Harry has felt negative emotions a lot over his short, painful and pitiful life, but these emotions were always fear, sadness, hopelessness, terror, and other such tangents. He had never really felt anger, or hate, or thought about how great it would feel to flay his uncle and hang his skinless still living body in the kitchen for his aunt to come home and see.

He almost shuddered with pleasure with just the mere thought. The look on the woman's face to see that yes, yes they had really pushed him over the edge of oblivion, and created a monster bent on chaos and murder.

No, he tried to rid those feeling no matter how much they might make him feel good, as he imagines a cute girls tongue might feel, sliding over his body.

He knows in theory these thoughts and emotions should be normal, shouldn't they? After all, he has been made to suffer a lot from this man, but under non-aggressive circumstances Harry doesn't think like that, he's just afraid. He would never stand up to his uncle, but he has always stood up to Voldemort, a highly dangerous Dark Wizard.

It doesn't make sense. Voldemort is so much worse, but. It's as if something whispers the instruction to hate him while holding him in a vice of obscurity when it comes to anyone else. He hates the feeling more than he hates Vernon or Voldemort. His anger and hate only processes this far when his adrenalin pumps like this, like the fuel from a petrol station, always pumping, constantly burning to a combustion, like a rage-engine that was just waiting for its refill.

"How I hate you," Harry continued speaking after a few moments of thought, his lips turning into a bloody smile that might have given Voldemort pause to think, but Vernon in all his arrogance just sneered with a cocky grin to match. He didn't even notice how dark Harry's eyes had gotten.

"You can't do anything to me boy!" the fat bully laughed smugly. "If you tried you'd get expelled and then you would be all mine!"

Harry then shocked him by laughing as he pulled himself to his feet, floppy, and tired, his green eyes now near black. The sight was shocking as blood drooled from him, insanity in his grin; his teeth bore staining with blood.

"I don't need magic to beat you to death, and who says I can't use my powers without a wand. In my world they say 'accidental' magic is caused by fear, or anger, hate and rage, strong emotions. Its just a shame for you that you've let out my night, buried within my heart. I wonder what they will do to you with my magic?" he asked with a crazed look on his face.

He picked up a broken toy from the cracked desk. He wasn't sure what it was before Dudley carelessly manhandled it until it broke but Vernon backed up quickly as it morphed in but a blink of an eye, into a plain looking army style knife, only this one looked like even the army wouldn't hand them out.

"How about I cut open your belly?" he asked laughingly, swiping the knife, which caused Vernon to flinch.

Harry hadn't noticed the oddly electrified red and black glow buzzing around him gently, but his uncle quickly moved closer to the open door as he did. Sparks of red and black lightning ran, bouncing untamed around Harry's body, between his fingers, rolling, lulling with power Harry had never felt before.

"How does it feel now that your prey has been backed into a corner, and now you are the one to feel the FEAR!?" he hissed the last word, it echoed and a spark of red magic hits the broken desk and it turned into a huge man sized spider.

The spider reminded Harry of the ones he saw in the Forbidden Forest his second year, with huge eight legs, multiple eyes, and huge sharp pincers. However, this one's large and powerful body is smooth black with bright red marking on its back.

Vernon moved as it moved around Harry. Its huge pincers clicking, emitting hisses. One of its long sticky legs even lent on Harry as it moved around him nimbly. However, Harry didn't look as if he cared about the spider touching him as Vernon could see its venom dripping from its fangs.

Harry couldn't help but let his smile increase, his eyes now nearly completely pitch black with a tiny hue of red, dead centre. He laughed as his Uncle could only stare in horror, so close to the open door, yet so far from freedom and his life.

"What's the matter Uncle?" he asked snickering. "Don't you love me any more?" he asked mockingly as a black spark hit his owl Hedwig, surprising him as nothing seemed to happen for a moment before she turned into a little monkey.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that as she, as a small fluffy white monkey screeched and jumped onto his shoulder to 'complain' when she scratched his cheek with little claws as she turned into a little white squirrel.

He didn't complain as he stared at her in thought. "Odd," he commented before turning away from her as she expressed her little squirrel curiosity and grinned once more at Vernon as the monstrous spider slowly stalked its prey.

However, before he had a chance to let out his anger Hedwig was blown off his shoulder by a force of magic, the black and red sparks now exploding over him, completely uncontrolled, bathing the room in a dark magical glow.

Hedwig was lucky as she turned into some kind of white feathered bird and fled out of the open window. Harry grabbed his chest and screamed in pain. He dropped to his knees and the spider was blown into dust as the red and black static and magic blazed around the room, filling it brightly.

He felt like his heart was on fire and every pore in his body was swimming in the sting of bees. He could barely think, let alone breathe. He could feel magic coming undone, powerful and strangling, oppression lifting for pain and terror.

Vernon could only watch in horror before he was blown out of the room by the force of the magic. He crashed into the banister of the stairs, and tumbling down to land unconscious with blood leaking from his head. The door to Harry's room slammed shut, and Harry collapsed unable to do much else.

It felt like his blood was boiling, and during his last thoughts, thoughts of his own death, he just hopes he'll take Vernon to hell with him. It would save the world the trouble and money of prosecuting him for child abuse. Though, a part of his fading mind wondered whether Dumbledore would prosecute him at all.

Harry groaned later that day, his muscles ached and yet he had never felt so free, different, young, or alive. It was as if a blanket had been stripped from his fogged mind, body and soul. He was feeling tired and felt like lying where he is on the floor for a lot longer when he startled as he realised he had slept on the floor.

His eyes snapped open and he sat up quick, giving himself a small case of head rush and pulling his hair a bit, from under him, he moved it to the side, blinking sleep and sweat from his eyes.

However, after a few moments he paused as he looked to his side to see his hair. Its long and wild, pitch black and upon standing up, after a near fall from dizziness, he notice as he pushed some out of his eyes that it reaches his ankles.

"Oh, crap, what the hell?" he asked groggily, his voice not quite sounding right, but it is croaky, and soar so that can only be expected. "Oh, great, some weird case of magic happened," he whispered to himself as he stretched his muscles out. He had to hold his trousers up as they had come lose as he thought about what had happened.

"Oh, right, I went insane," he told himself as he looked at the large combat knife he dropped. "I was going to kill Uncle Vernon," he said to himself waiting for the guilt to come rolling in, but instead he felt disappointed.

He was completely surprised by this. He would normally feel guilty, or bad for doing something bad, as if the one he did it too didn't deserve it no matter how much his subconscious might disagree, but now. Nothing but disappointment. He wanted to kill his uncle, and even now, he feels that urge to kill him, to maim, and torture him for all of the horrid things he's done in the past.

"Dumbledore would be disappointed in me," he said to himself, but those words seemed so hollow. "But why would I care? What's Dumbledore to me? Isn't he just my head teacher?" he asked himself, confused at these new thoughts, thoughts that sounded so much more honest. "But Dumbledore is a great wizard?" he continued, confused. "Why, how…? What has he ever done for me?

"Well, he made sure I was safe here with my family," he answered frowning in annoyance. "He made sure I was happy and had a normal childhood…!? But I didn't have a childhood. I've been beaten and used as a slave while getting nothing from these bastards. They deserve to die! They don't deserve anything from me, and if Dumbledore thinks otherwise he's more senile than anyone had ever thought!"

Harry closed and rubbed his eyes trying to clear his thoughts with deep even breaths. Something had happened to him and it had confused his thoughts. He looked around the scorched room to the open window before sighing. Its night out, so he hoped he could get to use the shower and hope that clears his thoughts up. If nothing else, it will be nice and refreshing.

He tiredly searched for a large towel through his trunk before leaving the room and entering the bathroom and locking the door with a tired breath. He wondered whether his life could get any more complicated, and reminded himself that it probably can and will.

It's no wonder Voldemort has gone off on one, and wants to conquer the world. If his life was even half as tough as Harry's was, he can sympathise. Though, Harry wouldn't have went quite the way Voldemort has, but still Dumbledore has to go, one way or another.

He sighed and looked at his mountain of hair. He won't be able to have that shortened unless he goes to a muggle hair cut place, or back into the magical world. He supposes super long hair is really the least of his worries. If Dumbledore finds out what he's done, the foolish git will be a nightmare of… well, he's not sure yet, it hasn't happened.

Smiling a little as he took a deep calming breath, he ran the shower and checked to make sure it's a good temperature before stripping naked out of his clothes.

However, it was just after he removed his boxer shorts that he had almost screamed, or fainted, or both. Heck, he did scream, but no one came running so he's sure the Dursley's aren't home, maybe they took Vernon to hospital. Harry does remember the spider and blasts of magic, so it seems to reason he might have hurt the brute of a man.

He was looking down, between his legs, but it was missing, but he had gained… something different, not quite right, yet he felt more normal than he had in years.

He ran his fingers over his smoother thighs and up, between his legs feeling the soft slit and the fine black hairs above. He gulped more, his hands shaky as they slowly moved up his flat tummy to rest on her nicely sized bust and he, err, she wondered how he, whatever could have missed breasts.

It took his, her, whatever a moment of shuddering as he, no she, he, augh. He looked down at his pert and female body. She's got a light colour to her skin, pale with large pink nipples and smaller areola Her… area is smooth except for the light dusting of fine black hair above the slit.

He quickly looked into the mirror, emerald green eyes widened impossibly to see a beautiful girl. She has pouty lips and small nose, slender features, and a great body.

"Oh, god this is not happening to me!" he cried whimpering as he, she, he, whatever, whomever, confused, baffled, and noticed the more delicate voice. Her plump red lips seemed to only be so bright because of her blood. Blood had dried on her chin with some even in her hair.

She, he, she, dam, didn't know how to react. She, he, augh, had never been in any kind of situation like it, but worse, he, she feels so much stronger, fitter, magically capable. It was hard to take in but she, he, had no choice.

He, is now a girl, he, Harry James Potter now has to come up with a less boy name. He, she, Harry James Potter no longer exists. However, that thought startled her. Harry James Potter is gone, so she doesn't have to be him.

She's free, new, someone else, something else. She couldn't help but admire how cute her evil smirk makes her look. Even if the world finds out, she doesn't have to be who she was. This is a new start – a start of something new, greater even.

However, she started as she came to a realisation. She'll have to get some magical scans to see whether its permanent or not. She could only think of going to Gringotts as she heard they deal with that sort of thing. Well not exactly like this, but close.

"OK, Harry, or whatever the hell I'm going to call myself, priorities umm… girl. At least I'm really pretty," she said to herself in the mirror with a sheepish grin. "I had half expected to accidentality see Hermione naked or something, but… at least I know I'm a lot hotter than her, but I'm fucking insane aren't I?

"OK, I'll shower, clean, find some semi-suitable clothes and go to Gringotts," he… she said to herself smiling. "After all, I do know that they're quite clever, so I'll be able to find out stuff. I can't exactly go to the hospital, magical or otherwise. I don't want Dumbledore to find out until I have all of the facts or he'll bull-shit me.

"OK," she finished with a deep breath wondering whether there is something wrong with watching her chest rise and fall in the mirror is weird, enjoying the sight. She is the first girl she's seen naked before.

She paused after that though, surprised. She's a girl now, which means girls dorms, girls showers. She can see all of the girls she likes naked. "Maybe being a girl now has some brilliant bonuses," she said to herself with a wicked grin before turning to the shower as its starting to fog up the mirror.

With a quick sigh Harry, err, whoever she is climbed into the nice warm water, sighing as the fast paced liquid washed away the tension from her muscles and she relaxed, comfortable.

She washed and felt every inch of her beautifully smooth and soft skin, and even washed her mountain of hair. It must have taken her at least an hour with the blood staining her skin and hair, but she managed to get clean before turning the shower off and wrapping her towel around her waist.

However, she paused as she looked down at her breasts, feeling a warm feeling settle between her legs again, and she had just settled that in the shower. It took a few minutes to learn how to properly take care of a girl… itch.

The Not-Quite-Boy-Who-Lived had seen Ginny exit a bathroom at the Burrow, but he's certain her lovelies weren't on display no matter how much he might have hoped the towel fell. It's just lucky she hadn't seen him or she might have dropped the towel in her embarrassment, embarrassing herself further.

Though, thinking about it, how is her not dropping her towel lucky? She couldn't answer that, even to herself. She had also seen Hermione doing the towel trick during the quidditch cup, in her tent when he walked in. She hadn't been as embarrassed as Ginny would have been, but she went pretty red, and she wondered why towels don't fall.

She then unwrapped her towel from her waist and tied it around her chest so it hides all of her lovelies perfectly. Therefore, she arrived back in her room and quickly got dressed in her third year school uniform as it fit the best, and pulled on a large black cloak.

Not-Quite-Harry thought about pulling up the hood, but she had nowhere to put her hair, and she doubted anyone would recognise her anyway. So she just grabbed a few things, her wand, broom, some magic people money, her vault key, and finally her invisibility cloak before locking her door and heading downstairs.

She felt quite clumsy as these shoes she chose are a little too big so she'll have to get some new ones, and if this change is the real, forever, she will need a whole new wardrobe.

It was easy reaching the bottom of the house, and normally she would just walk out of the house through the front door, but she knows she has stalkers. It's probably Dumbledore's idea of keeping tabs on her, but if they heard her, umm… him getting a beating they either didn't care or had orders not to interfere, no matter who might have threatened the Dursley's.

She knows that Dumbledore's law of being a douche is absolute and nobody will disobey him. However, she grinned viciously as she walked toward the backdoor through the kitchen smashing everything she passes, she knows, she'll change that.

However, before she exited the back door she turned on all of the gas hobs, and the oven and grill. She can only hope the house blows up as soon as the Dursley's get home. She's taking with her everything she cares about, and the thought of reading a muggle newspaper marking her families death made her laugh as she exited the backdoor, using her broom to shatter the window in the door for fun.

She looked into the dark sky while giggling. "Isn't Dumbledork going to be surprised?" she asked herself giggling more. "Yes, yes he is," she readily agreed laughing more.

Mounting her broom, she took one last look at the Dursley's house. It would be her last ever look as she will never return, (unless it's to kill them), and then she took to the sky at full speed on her trusted Firebolt broom.