-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Last of the Alteran--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Another idea stormed its way into my head. I hate my imagination so much right now. This is my first Harry Potter story though, so should be interesting. I am not British, so the word usage will be a more American in style. This will be massively AU as one might be able to imagine. Harry will be OOC, don't like don't read, but I just can't write canon Harry. He will still retain his core characteristics, he just won't be as...whiny and broody. I have quite a bit of writers block on my other stories so I thought writing something totally different may help. Time-lines may be moved around a bit, not sure though. I can't believe that I'm writing this story while I'm doing finals...
Chapter 1 : The Last Wizard
--(August 12th 1997 | Location: Over Atlantic Ocean)--
Harry Potter, age 17, looked out the window of the airplane he was sitting in and gave what seemed like the hundredth sigh of the hour as he gazed upon the clouds that seemed to lazily float by. You see, Harry Potter was no normal boy, in fact, the frequent calls of his "abnormality" by his relatives was indeed pretty correct. He was a wizard, a being capable of harnessing energy, and bending it to his will. Not only that, he was the last wizard. The legacy of a once thriving and diverse civilization, that just a couple months earlier had been wiped out in its entirety.
To truly understand the story in its entirety, you had to begin at the well, beginning. Just like normal humans, witches and wizards came in all molds, the intelligent, the arrogant, there was a diversity in the population like in that of the normal human population. Well, with the ability to wield energy, the ability to cause great destruction was enormous. About two decades ago, a great and evil wizard by the name of Tom Riddle led a terrorist group that led waste to Brittan's hidden community of energy wielders.
On Halloween night when he was one year old, the dark wizard who had fashioned the name Voldemort for himself, entered his families cottage and killed his parents before attempting to kill him. But then, something unexpected happened, the Killing Curse send by Voldemort rebounded upon him and he was vanquished, or at least, all thought he was.
After his parents were killed, he was sent off by Albus Dumbledore to his mother's sister and her family. It was here where he suffered sixteen horrible years of mental and emotional abuse. When his eleventh birthday came along, he was greeted by the half-giant named Hagrid and introduced to a whole new life. He even found out he was famous, boy did that surprise him. He was a celebrity and he had been living like a slave his whole life, nothing like a living personification of "out of sight, out of mind."
Hogwarts, the school where he learned how to manipulate energy, or "magic" as they called it was a hell hole. Every year something happened to threaten his very life. From his very first year, at age eleven, he had to fight for his life. It was terrible, who puts a artifact that has a dark lord inside a school with children anyway?
Of course, over the next few years more and more dangers were introduced and he always had to fight for his life, it seemed he was destined for struggles, no matter what he wanted.
When he was fourteen, Voldemort was resurrected and his reign of terror began anew. Voldemort, being the guy he was, obviously wanted revenge on the one person to best him, so Harry was forced to live his life in even MORE danger than before. It was not his idea of a great childhood.
Luckily for Harry, he hadn't spent his four years in the magical world doing nothing but the assigned coursework. As you can imagine, growing up in a nonmagical environment had made the magical world seem extraordinary, at least more so than it really was. What kind of kid wouldn't want to learn all there was to know. Harry suspected this was one of the reasons Riddle went down the dark side, as cliche as that sounded. His yearning to learn magic might have began innocent enough, but it changed to some rather nasty stuff later in life. Of course, it could very well have been the messed up mind from the get go.
Now, Harry did only have four years to learn magic, so he didn't go down a destructive path, though he didn't really think that would ever happen. When he was growing up, he would get belittled and punished for going better than Dudley in school. To combat this, he did poorly, while he learned at an outstanding rate, he knew that if he did better he would get punished. He had hoped he would be able to stop holding back once he got back to the wizarding world, but he found himself sadly mistaken. Hogwarts taught the most useless of useless skills. The reason he didn't do the greatest in terms of grades was because none of the curriculum really interested him. Sure they subjects themselves were interesting, but what was taught and how they taught it just wasn't. Who cared how to turn a beetle into a button, especially when the incantation ONLY turned a beetle into a button. Honestly, what good was it? The school didn't even bother to teach them basic household skills for life after school.
Anyway, that wasn't what was really important. What was important was the final showdown between Voldemort and himself just after his seventeenth birthday. Of course, no matter how cool it sounded, it wasn't actually very exciting. Most of what happened he couldn't control, he was really just a bystander to a greater event. At least...he thought it was a greater event.
The things that happened that day would be forever stitched into his memory.
Harry gave Number Four, Privet Drive one last contemptuous glance before he turned his back to the horrid house he was forced to grow up in before departing, to never return. He had been planning his departure for quite some time, ever since the death of Dumbledore. Without the old headmaster watching him, he was free to travel into London and get all his affairs in order. He was able to get to Gringott's and withdraw all of his money (which was quite considerable) and artifacts, for a small fee of course which he had then put into a trunk and hid it onto his person. He had hidden it in a rather ingenious way, or so he thought at least. Sure he wasn't quite an adult, but a little gold went a long way. The Goblins were also able to get him all the muggle paperwork he would need to survive in the muggle world should he choose to. It had cost quite a bit, but it was airtight and well worth it. Hell, he even had a transcript from Stonewall High thrown in there.
One of the more interesting things was the property. Well there was a hell of a lot of it first off but that wasn't what surprised him. What did surprise him was where it was located. The Potters, while holding fairly vast wealth, did not posses the the sheer liquid assets of other families like the Blacks and Malfoy's, rather, they put their money into land. Everywhere in the globe from America to Antarctica he held property. Yes, for some reason, his grandfather had actually bought part of the giant block of ice. From what the goblins had told him, he was muttering about a dream with Merlin in it telling him to do it. Anyway, he left soon after that, he had no desire to hear about ancestors of his spending millions on the word of a dream.
After the, rather eventful bank trip, he returned back to Privet Drive and said a "heartfelt" goodbye to his relatives. After all that was said and done, he was finally ready to leave, he had never felt better. Of course, seeing as how life absolutely hated him, that feeling couldn't last very long. Before he could even step off the doorstep, Voldemort himself was standing in front of him, doing his best to look menacing. Harry had to admit though, the lack of a nose and just his general snake-like appearance didn't help him there.
There was one thing about him that was off though. The snake-like man was wearing his usual dark robes, like he was trying to give himself a regal appearance. No, the thing that rang alarm bells in Harry's mind was the...thing on his wand hand. It was a gold color with spiraling metal that went up the wrist. Below that were five finger places and in the center was a red crystal.
"Harry Potter" Voldemort greeting in his hissing voice, his pleasure at finding the boy alone clearly showing. "How agreeable to see you again."
"Voldemort" Harry said dryly. "Looking stupider by the day I see." One may point out that it might not be the best idea to insult the most knowledgeable wizard living, but seeing as the man, no creature had been trying to kill him since he was one year old, the terror factor just wasn't there.
"You stupid boy!" Voldemort roared in anger, he was so predictable. "You should have chosen to join me those many years ago for today, you shall die!" He roared, pointed his golden gauntlet thing towards the sky. "This is the ultimate magical device" Voldemort cackled with glee. "It is the chosen weapon of the great gods themselves, with it, you WILL DIE!" he said, his eyes glowing yellow as the crystal began to glow an eerie red as it pulsated with power.
Harry was panicking more than a little at the site. He was use to an incompetent Voldemort, they would throw around a few spells and then the fight would break away. Hell, he was even prepared for the duel, but this, how was he suppose to combat such a weapon? While he didn't think it was actually used by a god, it certainly was strange, and it must have been powerful for Voldemort to covet it so much. Plus...some part of him screamed to be wary of it, like part of him knew what its nature was.
Then, with a a larger gale of laughter, Voldemort brought down his hand, and Harry could stare directly into the red gem. Orange light engulfed him, and then he felt it, pain. It went beyond physical pain, it was like his soul itself was crying out. He spent what seemed like an eternity bathed in the painful light before his soul seemed to "break" and then, something strange, and amazing happened.
Instead of the painful glow, bright white light exploded from his body and he felt all the pain go away. It was wonderful, it felt, why, it felt like he was being welcomed by family.
"W-What is this!" Voldemort yelled out as he saw the orange light begin to fade in favor of the white power that Potter was releasing. 'This is not possible' he thought as dread built up in his stomach. "THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE" He screamed into the heavens "I AM GOD, WIELDING A WEAPON OF GOD, I CANNOT BE DEFEATED!"
Harry however, heard nothing of this, instead, he was still basking in the glow of power surrounding him. Then, as if by some unseen command, the glow lifted slightly, and his eyes could be seen.
Instead of the emerald green color his eyes normally were, they too were glowing a brilliant white.
"You will not defeat me" Harry felt himself say, unable to control his voice or his actions. It seemed like the power had a voice of its own. "You will die here Voldemort" he said, as he once again began to glow, this time, the white power completely overwhelmed the orange glow and it rushed towards the snake like man.
"Ego sum Alteras" he roared, his voice getting deeper with every letter spoken as whiteness filled up the entire area. "Aveo"
Harry shook his head as he thought about the rather dreadful moment. He didn't know exactly what he did, but he had a clue and it wasn't a pretty picture.
He could remember every detail about the event, but he didn't remember just how he did it. His magic felt normal, better than normal really, it was far easier to control then it normally was, but nothing like he unleashed upon Voldemort. The worst thing that happened however, was that nothing was as it should have been.
The wizarding world was gone. It wasn't like they were all hiding, but they were gone completely. Hogwarts, the Ministry, Diagoon Alley, all of it was just...gone. The most interesting thing about the whole event, was that he felt like he knew what happened. It wasn't like he was ever stupid, in fact, it was quite intelligent, but he found himself thinking in ways he would have never even comprehended before. The logical path was clear to him and his mind made conclusions about things it would never have before. It was fascinating in a completely terrifying way.
He thought Voldemort wanted to do one thing to him with that gauntlet, he wanted to drain Harry of all magic in his body. It really did make sense, Magic was intertwined with the body and soul, which would explain the pain when it was being ripped from his body. The one thing he didn't understand, was what happened to him after his magic had been drained. What was that white power?
Shaking his head once again, he focused back on the more important matter of an entire civilization vanishing. The worst part was that even people were effected. The Weasley's and even Hermione were all gone. The Granger's were still alive, but Hermione just didn't seem to exist. It was more than just vanishing though, there were no pictures of her, and some passive legilimency, which was a useful skill he had picked up, informed him that they didn't even have a daughter. The thing that disturbed him the most was how he felt about it. He really didn't. He looked at it objectively, there was nothing he could have possibly done and that ultimately it was Voldemort's fault. It scared him that he thought this way, it was like his entire thought process and emotions were out of whack. It didn't seem to negatively effect him, so he did his best to embrace it rather than ignore it. If anything, it helped him think in ways he would have never imagined before.
Anyway, all of this led him to a conclusion, a conclusion he had no idea how he came up with. The wizarding world didn't just cease to exist, no, that would leave behind at least some sort of evidence. What he thought happened went far beyond simple extinction. It was his belief that the wizarding world, and indeed all of magic itself had been rejected from ever being in existence. Harry had a feeling that it had something to do with that strange device Voldemort had used. He vaguely remembered Voldemort trying one last ditch effort to overthrow the white energy, something told him the strange white energy had done something to both amplify and enhance the effect of the devise. The worst part was, he had no idea WHY he thought that was the case, just that he did. He also KNEW that the device Voldemort possessed was not actually magic. It made no sense to him how such a device could exist but not be magic, but he just knew.
It was all rather confusing to be honest. It was also interesting that all of the magical effects on the Earth had left, except things that related to him. He really didn't understand why, but he wasn't going to complain. His muggle paperwork would help him more than he would have ever imagined. What was once merely a failsafe was now his life-line. Before he had left, he looked into his property and indeed, it all still belonged to him. Any wards or magical books they held no longer remained in existence, but the Potter lands and money were still very much alive. He was of course happy upon hearing about this, at least some part of the family he never got the chance to know still remained.
Still, his very world was falling in around him. Everything was changing, and there was nothing he could do. His very life was beginning anew. He had never felt like he belonged in the muggle world when he was growing up, and now the wizarding one was gone as well. Granted, he never felt like he belonged in the wizarding world either, but at least he was around people who didn't hate him for who he was...well for the most part anyway. Homicidal manics didn't count.
Which was why he was currently on the plane. He couldn't stay in Brittan, just being in the country was a reminder of all that he had lost. Hell, being in Europe was a constant reminder. He had been surprised to find out that he wasn't actually even born in Brittan, yet another thing that people had kept away from him. He had actually been born in New York while his parents had been checking in on some land being held in name by a muggle named Tonald Drump. Anyway, during that trip his mother had went into labor and he soon was brought into the world. Apparently it was actually planned. From what he had been able to tell, birthing practices in the wizard world were extremely primitive, so his parents had opted for a muggle approach. Being on a business trip had afforded the excuse of not doing it the "traditional" way. Plus, having American citizenship wasn't a bad perk either, it certainly made moving into the country a lot easier, especially with the Goblins not around to help him with the legal stuff.
After a bit more digging, he found out some other very interesting things his family had done. Apparently, the muggle, Drump no longer existed, which wasn't really a big deal, instead, all his property holdings in New York and beyond were held by a single trust in which the family name "Potter" wasn't publicly affiliated. Now, one of his ancestors was able to actually include a law into the Constitution of the United States that the trust was not able to ever be held in a court of law. The law was iron-clad and was unchangeable. It appeared that said ancestor was a man who was heavily invested in America and wanted his holdings to stand form. He helped fund the colonies in the war and even used some of his influence to convince to French to aid the revolution. In the end you get a very grateful America and a now un-arrestable and un-seeable Potter family whose influence runs deep.
As one might imagine, finding out how wide-spread his family influence was royally annoyed him. Here his family was, who could trace their linage back to Merlin and Morgan Le Fay and he lived with horrible people that treated him like dirt on their shoes. He didn't thing his families wealth or "pure" blood made him better than anyone else, but it would have been nice to at least have been able to have a "normal" childhood like what was so preached by his former headmaster.
It was amazing, the wizarding world looked at him as a savior when he was needed, then felt no remorse for what ever happened once he was no longer needed. There was even a small part of him that was satisfied with them all being gone.
Once again he shook his head from the depressing thoughts. Ever since the death of Voldemort, he had been reflecting more and more upon the decisions made by those closest to him and he had concluded that his whole life had been a farce so far. He wasn't sure just how far things ran, but it was far enough to make him not mourn most of the people who he would not get the chance to meet.
Anyway, that wasn't really was mattered anymore. Harry was willing to set all that out of mind and just get ready to live his life to the fullest from here on out. His final destination was the city of Colorado Springs, or at least someplace slightly outside of it. The Potters owned a large chunk of land just outside of the city with a fairly large home built upon it. He felt it was the perfect place to go. It was isolated from neighbors, so he could get his bearings with his magic, as well as the strange artifacts he found on the Potter vault.
Oh yes the artifacts, they were quite intriguing really. They were buried deep within the Potter family vault, so deep in face, that it appeared that they were among the first ever items to be placed into said vault. They were very...strange as well. They didn't appear to be any kind of magical artifact he had ever seen, but there was this one device that shot out a beam of red light and scorched a wall. He was baffled, it almost appeared alien. Of course, he ignored the little voice in his head that was telling him that maybe it was alien. Talk about crazy, there was no such thing as aliens after all. Something about them just intrigued him, there wasn't anything in the vault that identified them but it was like they called out to him.
He was broken out of his thoughts by a voice over the speakers announcing that the plane was descending. He almost gave a roll of the eye as he felt the primitive aircraft give a slight lurch, obviously lacking inertial dampeners.
'Wait...what?' he thought to himself, bewildered. 'Where did that thought come from?' he asked himself. Covering his face with his hands he wondered just what was happening to him. 'There is no other presence on my mind.' he thought to himself as he took a couple of deep breaths. If there was one thing that was sacred to him it was his mind. It was the only thing that had ever truly belonged to him during his life. 'Which means that these thoughts and ideas are constructs of my own mind. They are all logical and well thought out, even more so than I would normally be able to think. Did that white power somehow effect my mind? Perhaps it has something to do with the rejection of magic, but these feelings are far to real, they almost could be called memories of feelings. How could this be possible.?' he continued to rant at himself. He was frustrated beyond belief. He knew what he was thinking was correct beyond a doubt, in fact, his mind screamed at him to listen. It was confusing the hell out of him to be honest. He thought of inertial dampeners as some minor piece of of technology when he knew for a fact that nothing even remotely similar had been built by any Earth means he was aware of. It was a similar feeling to the artifacts and the device worn by Voldemort, part of him seemed to understand what they were but his mind was unable to "translate" the exact meaning of his instinct.
It really was quite lucky that he was in a descending airplane. He didn't look quite as stupid holding his head in his hands when in the context of flying. There were quite a few people who didn't like entrusting their lives to a giant hunk of metal after all. Anyway, he was jarred from his rather lengthy mental rant about his new thought processes as he felt the tires of the plane touch down on something solid. He really needed to cut down on the mental conversations, he was so caught up in reminiscing he didn't realize that hours had passed.
His body went on auto-pilot as there was a scramble to get out of the plane. He rolled his eyes at the sight, they had been coped in the plane for hours, couldn't these people wait a couple more minutes? After retrieving his carry-on and finally getting off the plane he mentally patted himself on the back for deciding to not take any luggage with him. From what he had heard, getting it back was a nightmare.
With a smile on his face, he walked out the door of Denver International Airport and took a deep breath. Relishing the smell of fresh mountain air he felt his smile widen as he gazed at the blue sky above him. Thoughts of the death, and the destruction of the wizarding world were out of his mind. For the first time in his life he felt free, it was time to live.
And Cut.. Oh boy, that was interesting to write...what do ya all think? I know some of you will hate me for making Harry rich, but seriously, the Potters are considered an "old" family. In context of the wizarding world, that would make them thousands of years old. It only makes sense that they would have built up considerable wealth during that time. Plus, giving him resources gives me some more possibilities to work with Now first off, Voldemort was NOT a Goa'uld, he was able to get the device to work via...other means. Anyway, this was the first chapter, what do you think?
Ego sum Alteras -- I am Alteran
Aveo -- Goodbye