Author's Note: This story is an idea I've had rolling around in my head for the past few days after I started rereading the Harry Potter series. At this point it's probably just going to be a short, but if the reviews keep rolling in like they do for Chains, I might continue this. I actually have a few plans for all seven years, but I'll have to reread everything before I continue. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are appreciated. Also, please visit the poll on my profile page.

"There is no peace among the stars, only an eternity of slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods"

It is a dreadful thing to be utterly alone. Life is a hollow shell when those who were suppose to be family treat you as refuse to be tossed around or vermin to be tormented. This was the fate of the younger of two boys living in Four Privet Drive. He had lived his entire life not as a person, but as an object.

Harry Potter was this object. He had always lived under the boot heels of the Dursleys for as long as he could remember. Generally, it was merely figuratively. Harry was used as little better than an indentured servant. Now, unfortunately, he was literally under Dudley's boot heel.

"I dare you! Say it again! Come on!" Dudley, the son of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, barked at the prone Harry. The malice in his statement was lessened substantially by a slight break in his voice.

"Yeah! See if you're 'ave enough to say it again!" One of Dudley's friends shouted. Harry couldn't tell which one it was. He couldn't see as Dudley had pressed Harry's face to ground. Why was he in this place? Why did his parents have to die in a car accident?

"I... am... not... your... slave!" Harry yelled. He quickly rolled over to get his face out of a small puddle. The motion caught Dudley off balance and he fell backwards and landed hard on his behind. The slightly overweight boy yelped and called out to his parents.

Harry, unfortunately, made the mistake of standing up just as Vernon Dursely burst through the door and entered the garden.

"What have you done you little!? Petunia and I generously let you outside this weekend and you repay us by hurting my Dudley!" The large man's face turned a darker shade of purple as he grew angrier with Harry.

Dudley's friends helped the other boy to his feet and snickered as Vernon dragged Harry back into the house. The inside of Four Privet Drive was as bland and unimaginative as its owners. The Dursley's seemingly reviled even the simplest of color and charm. Eventually, Vernon dragged Harry in front of the closet underneath the stairs that served as Harry's sleeping area.

Prison. Harry thought bitterly.

Mr. Dursley practically ripped the door off the hinges as he threw Harry in. "You will stay there until you ask to apologize to Dudley or until I feel you have stewed in there for long enough!"

The door slammed and Harry was immersed in shadow. The young boy fumbled in the dark for the lone light bulb that illuminated his small notch in the house. As he felt around for the light, he accidentally hit the wall and knocked a small section loose. Harry eventually found the light, hiding the small lamp was one of Dudley's favorite games. The light pushed the shadows into hiding and Harry looked to see the damage he did in his fumbling.

"I hope I can hide whatever I did... I don't want to go without dinner again." Harry whispered with melancholy.

He had knocked a rotted plank from the wall. The young Potter looked into the hole. It was as if something was calling desperately to him. Gathering his courage, he reached into the gap and felt around. There was something solid in the wall. As he groped to find out what it was, he realized it was something big. It felt like leather, but there were spots that were metal or stone. He expected it to be cold and damp from being hidden in the wall for so long, but it was warm to the touch. Harry struggled to drag it out. It was thick and heavy.

"A book?" Harry gaped as he pulled the massive book from the wall. The book was covered in brown fabric, slightly wrinkled and it smelled of old blood. An star with eight points dominated the cover. It was made of a glossy black material Harry had never seen before. It was difficult to look at because the more he tried to stare at it, the fuzzier his vision became. Four symbols, each made of a different material, sat at each diagonal point.

How do I open you? Harry thought as he struggled with the clamp. There was no keyhole, so it wouldn't need a key. Or did it?

Harry's frustration grew with each passing minute he failed to open the book. Finally, he had something the Dursley's didn't know about. Harry knew they wouldn't have anything to do with it, so he felt it was safe to be his. In anger, he slammed his hands on the book. There was a tinge of static electricity and the air became cold for a split second.

Click. The clamp came loose on its own. Stranger still, the book opened by itself. Harry skittered back as the pages began to rapidly flip back and forth.

A face appeared in the rapidly moving pages. ONE CAPABLE OF USING MAGIC.


"Ha... Harry Potter..."


"You said I could use magic?"


Harry's heart leaped. He was special. No one had ever called him special. "I'm special..." He spoke more to himself.

"Who are you? Would you like to be my friend?" The little boy asked. The face in the book closed its eyes as it grinned. The book was possessed by a creature of lies. It would be a trivial thing to convince this young human he was willing to be a friend.

"I am Sarr'kell, Lord of Shadows. I will be more than a friend. I will teach you to use your gifts. The Gods have chosen you. You are important to them." Sarr'kell switched over to speaking in more human tones instead of the rustling of paper he had been using.

Harry's head was spinning. "Lord of Shadows, isn't that bad? And who are the Gods?"

Sarr'kell chuckled. Welcome to my web, little fly. "No, it is not 'bad'. Your ordered culture has imposed its will and views upon you. Harry Potter, son of James and Lily, you know the Shadows. It is in their solitude that you can embrace your self. And is it not better to be a Lord in the Shadows than to be a slave in the light?"

Harry slouched against the back wall. It knew his parent's names. His words made sense. It also helped that the Book was transmitting emotional cues directly into Harry's soul. "I guess..."

The Book mimicked a deep breath. It would be a task not to lose its patience with this human child. The Child began rambling a hundred questions. As a being from beyond the material plane, he comprehended and understood every one of the inane queries. Unfortunately, none served the purposes of the Gods.

"I will answer your questions in time, but I have not answered your second one." Harry stopped rambling and hugged his knees to his chest. "You asked for the names of the Gods? I shall tell you. They are Khorne, the mighty Blood God; Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways; Grandfather Nurgle, Slaanesh, the Unborn Prince of Pleasure. These are the Glorious Gods and they have a destiny planned for you. You are important to them."

Harry wept. He was important. Important to Gods.

Sarr'kell laughed inwardly. Yes, Harry Potter was important, but not as an individual. He was just a piece, a valuable piece undoubtedly, in the Great Game.

It was fortunate that the Dursley's were so utterly oblivious to Harry when he was in his closet. The Lord of Shadows and Harry had ceased even attempting to whisper. Sarr'Kell began his tutoring of Harry. The first lesson was to learn the basics of Magic and the Warp.

"There is a difference?"

"Yes, child. Magic is the twisting of the Material World. The Warp is separate from this plane of existence. It is the realm of emotional energy. All Material beings contribute to the Warp, but only a few can tap the well of Magic."

The young untrained mage sat silently. "Can you teach me both?"

"No, I cannot. The nature of Magic is alien to me. You shall have other teachers for Magic. I can comprehend it, but cannot touch its face. I will teach you to embrace the Warp and its many facets. I will teach you how to enter into pacts with the Children of Nurgle, Tzeentch and Unborn Slaanesh and to access the more mundane powers of the Immaterium."

Harry sat up. "Why not Khorne? Does he not have magical powers?"

Ah, the child is more perceptive than expected. "The Blood God opposes the use of magics. The Lord of Battle focuses his might solely on physical combat. You must find other ways to appease his appetites. Let us begin."

Harry nodded and moved closer to the book. "I will learn anything the Gods want."

There was a voice nagging at the back of Harry's skull telling him to abandon this course. It spoke of damnation and the betrayal of his parents. The young Harry Potter, so desperate for acceptance and camaraderie, ignored the voice and continued to plead with Sarr'Kell to teach him.

The Lord of Shadows exulted. Soon, he would be free from the fleeting and stagnant world of mortals and the Dark Gods would allow him to return to the Eternal and Ever-changing realm of the Warp.

"Do you pledge yourself to the Gods? Do you pledge your Blood in the struggles you will face to Khorne? Do you pledge that you will seek Perfection in all things in the name of Slaanesh? Do you pledge to endure in the name of Nurgle? Do you promise to strive to push beyond your own limits for Tzeentch?"

Harry Potter knelt shut the ancient tome and knelt. He touched the center of the Eight Pointed Star with his forehead. "I pledge all I am."

Sarr'kell wanted to roar in triumph. The Dark Gods had prepared the path to perfection. "Then we shall begin."

The sun set overLittle Whinging and the world fell into Darkness.