This is my attempt at Sharkteeths request.
Just to say sir, that I also cannot write for peanuts but I'm willing to give it a shot.
The idea is really imaginative and I would love to see a quality writer attempt it .
AU, no yaoi and the canon of JKR be damned!
Harry Potter decided that this life of his was more trouble than it was worth.
This was the third strike for the Wizarding World (fourth if you count how he got his scar, fifth if you count saddling him with Dursleys when they clearly didn't want him)
The summer had been about as good as he had expected although the end of it was surprisingly good (Harry made a mental note to see what would happen if he tried to turn Vernon into a walrus next year. He was pretty sure he could at least make him hairier and give him tusks).
Was it a Potter family trait of something? If so, then thanks but no thanks Dad, he'd rather be a Snape. He would have been perfectly happy to have gone to Stonewall and lived a perfectly ordinary and boring life. It would have been preferable to all of the drama that rampaged through his life. At this rate he was going to meet some kind of unimaginable fate and the hands (claws? talons? teeth?) of an inhuman and terrifying monster.
The train compartment was cold. It grew inexplicably darker and the air took on the sensation of a fetid fog. Harry felt like a stranger in his own body, his limbs bore a sense of cloying wrongness as if he was wearing the uncomfortable clothes of a stranger.
..a false body…
He couldn't even think of the others in the room. It was if they no longer shared the same existence. He heard voices, muffled as if through a wall, panicking before petering out
…not strong enough to serve me…
Something was approaching, an unnatural existence, it fed on suffering and bred anguish.
…an interesting result…
The shadows darkened and the voices grew louder before the space was filled with something enormous. Harry didn't trust anything he saw. It was all so wrong! Nothing was as he perceived, he felt as if was trying to grab the moon from a pond.
The cloak seemed to have a life of its own, reaching and probing for a prey
... what can exist in a vacuum? A promising experiment…
Hermione had mentioned something about the Dementors hadn't she? Is that what was approaching him?
The wall collapsed and the screams hit him full force. His mother, begging for his life
…why did you beg? Why didn't you go out the window? Had you a brain in your head at all woman?...
A hand reached towards him; pale, scabby and emaciated. A corpse was dragging him down. His chest constricted and he bizarrely felt as if he was buried alive.
…something so unnecessary…
Why wasn't anyone helping him? This, this creature was going to kill him and no one was doing anything! Where were they? Weren't they his friends?
…The betrayal you can see is trivial. What is truly fearsome, is the betrayal that you don't see…
His mothers dying screams echoed in his ears. They were mocking, cruel and Harry found himself caring less for the woman as they increased in intensity.
It couldn't be real but it was. The logic was insane but what he was seeing was so terrifying real that he couldn't deny it. Was it real because it felt so real that his body had accepted it as so?
... I'm done with you…
A new voice had joined the cacophony; unknown but achingly familiar. He was surprised at the pang the voice gave him. It was like a beloved instrument left to rot when it should have been picked up and played again.
The creature bore down upon him and a silvery light winked out of the corner of his eye
The screams of the monster intermingled with those of Lily Potter and Harry felt the strange sensation of a roaring vacuum around himself
The limp form of Harry Potter hit the floor to the terrified screams of those around him.