Hello Reader Peoples! This is my first fic, so I hope that I don't suck too much. This will definitely be a Dark Harry fic, probably Harry/Tonks, possibly a harem. This is rated M for usual reasons, standard canon beginning, but it starts when Harry is 4 years old. So no super powered Lily that was actually a servant of the dark lord, because frankly, that's a load of crap and completely overused as a plot basis. I will be trying to make this as original as possible, mostly cause I hate all the clichéd shit that most amateurs write.

The basic plot is Harry Potter grows up abused and hated, and builds up a high pain tolerance and a cold exterior. His only friend is a music store owner named Mr. Page. He ends up absorbing Voldemorts soul piece at age 9 and gets most of his powers. Voldemort will not be the main villain, Dumbledore will, as well as an OC that will not enter until much later. Harry will meet a young Tonks who will introduce him to the Black family which will build a base for his inner circle. After that is anybody's guess, I haven't thought that far ahead, except that Harry will be completely invincible except for a couple of duels.

So anyway, there will be abuse, violence, new spells, necromancy, blood and soul magic, animaguses, Dumbledore and some Weasley bashing, cold, DARK Harry, not the slightly cool but really caring Harry, but a dark, abusive, arrogant, destructive to everyone he doesn't have a "connection" with (will be explained later) Harry who is totally badass with powers that no one has seen before. So… on to…


Chapter 1: The Early Years

Harry woke up in his not so cramped cupboard on a Saturday morning, to the sound of his slightly older, five year old cousin Dudley stomping down the stairs with his large beefy legs threatening to crack each step they landed on. Harry suppressed a groan and scampered out of his cupboard as quickly as he could. If he woke up after Dudley, he knew that he would be punished for being a lazy ass bum, as his uncle so elegantly put it.

Despite his quickness, Harry knew he was in trouble when he saw Dudley pass him up, and his uncle Vernon coming out of the kitchen, brandishing his favorite belt.


Harry, being the innocent little four year old that he was said, "But uncle, why doesn't Dudley get punished?"

Vernon's face went through his personal color wheel of anger; pink, red, maroon, purple, whoa that blue is new, Harry thought, but that was right before Vernon's belt flew across and hit Harry in the face. Harry cried out and fell to the floor, clutching his face. Vernon was still breathing heavily and said to Dudley, "Help me teach this TRASH a lesson!" As the larger Dursleys began completely wail on the frail green eyed boy, and as Petunia came in from the bathroom and started mocking the bruised boy, Harry decided to lock away his innocence, it seemed that it wasn't needed here.

2 years later

A visibly more battered and gaunt Harry Potter stepped out of his broom cupboard at three in the morning. He had only gotten four hours of sleep, but the tingly feeling always helped him with the exhaustion that made up his existence. His life had begun to fall into a steady routine of pain and pleasure. The pleasure came from the two hours of free time that he had until Vernon had to get to work. He used this time to run and explore his small town of Little Whinging, where he had found a music store that he loved to visit. The manager, a Mr. Page, had apparently been a huge rock star in the seventies, but now he owned a small guitar store serving people who loved music. Harry could still remember the time he met Mr. Page...

Flashback 1 year ago

Harry stared longingly into the small shop on the corner of Peter and Grant street, as a tall man with shoulder length black, curly hair tapped him on the shoulder. Harry gasped as he turned around.

"You know, child, it was here in Surrey where I played my first guitar, I guess that's why I wanted the shop to be here, not in London where I could have made a lot more money."

Harry quickly gained his composure, after all, any display of emotion was a weakness that anyone could prey on. He calmly said, "I am sorry sir, for loitering outside your shop. I was interested in the instruments in there."

The man stared for a moment, no five year old should be so polite, so calm. He looked at the child closely and saw the baggy clothes and the thin figure of the small boy, but was totally stricken by his green eyes. "Don't call me sir, kid, it makes me sound like a fucking geezer. I don't usually open at four in the morning, but you look like you could use some food or something. It must suck being homeless."

Harry was taken aback, but on the outside maintained his stony indifference. No one had ever shown him this compassion before, even if he worded said compassion a little bluntly. Deciding to play up his new "homeless" role, he nodded quietly, and followed the man into the store. Followed and gasped in astonishment.

Rows and rows of guitars, basses lined up in perfect condition, completely filling every wall space, every floor that wasn't needed to actually move around was filled with guitar stands, holding more beautiful treasures. As Harry openly gaped at his surroundings, the man looked at him with amusement. He went into the back room and came out with two bowls of oatmeal a couple of moments later. Harry was rooted to the same spot.

"Like what you see?"

Harry was startled out of his silent reverie of the instruments and glanced up at the man. "This is what you actually do for a living? You get to spend most of your day around such…such…"

"Relics? Treasure? Beautiful sounds coming together to make absolute perfection? Hell yeah, wouldn't have it any other way." The man looked at Harry expectantly. "My name is Mr. Page."

"My name is… James Miller." The alias was something that Harry came up with several weeks previously, after discovering a letter from a man named Director Ragnok talking about money stuff that he didn't understand, but he saw his full name. Harry James Potter.

Exit Flashback

It was since discovered that Harry was a guitar prodigy, able to play anything that he heard. Mr. Page described his playing as absolutely fucking magical. Harry walked into the front yard to start his morning routine. He ran the 8 miles to Mr. Pages guitar shop but stopped cold. He saw smoke, he smelled smoke, and he could taste smoke. But what he heard would play over and over again in his nightmares for years. The sound of a roaring flame, strings popping, wood falling over and burning, and a man screaming. Harry quickly saw red and his anger and terror was let out in a single heart wrenching, terrifying scream of rage, as a visible wave of golden energy shot from his body.

Hundreds of miles away, Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair enjoying the sight of his minions bickering over some matter of minor importance. He didn't care what it was, but he would spew out some "I believe that you will do what's best, Minerva," shit that he always did, and they would be even more indebted to him. However this is before several of his silver instruments exploded, indicating, quite impossibly, that Harry Potter was not being Traced anymore, nor were any of the tracking charms Albus placed functioning.

There were only three explanations: One, Harry was dead. Albus immediately dismissed this idea, because he had ordered all wizards not to have any contact with his weapon. The second option was quickly thrown out as well, because it wasn't possible that Harry could have overpowered the enchantments of the most powerful man on earth. So the only possible option was that the instruments had malfunctioned.

The only problem was that Albus had absolutely no way of getting in touch with Harry without drawing any suspicion. He wanted his pawn to be as ignorant and gullible as possible when he first walked into Hogwarts. Albus dismissed the problem as inconsequential, as Fate was always on his side. After all he is the Lord of the Light, the Phoenix King.

In the back of the room, a phoenix keened in sadness, and disappeared in a flash of flame.

As the golden light hit the burning guitar shop, the flames were put out, the guitars were repaired, and Mr. Page completely healed. He stared in pure shock and amazement out the window, as he saw his protégé, his eyes glowing green, snarl on his face. Which soon faded as Harry fell to the ground, completely exhausted. Mr. Page hurried out, gathered Harry in his arms, and took him inside.

Harry woke up in a haze, not able to see clearly. My glasses aren't on, he realized. How long have I been out. He was shaken when he heard a voice.

"What the hell are you, James?" Harry glanced up towards his mentor and sighed.

"I have no idea."

3 Years Later

"NEVER…EVER...EVER…MENTION….THAT…FOUL…WORD…AGAIN!" Vernon accentuated each word with a massive blow with his fists. Harry already had broken each arm, seven ribs, his collar bone, and his right ankle, but Vernon just wouldn't stop.

Harry was slowly discovering that he wasn't normal at all. He could unlock doors, make things fly, talk to snakes, and apparently, shoot fire. This landed him in his current situation. Nine year old Harry had been playing with his flaming fingers, when Dudley found him. The 250 pound behemoth then summoned his 400 pound father, who proceeded to beat Harry senseless. Unfortunately for the large man, Harry had been beaten so many times that his pain tolerance that was so high it would make the guys in the Iron Maiden contests look like little girls asking for a boo boo for the scrape on their knees.

Harry had explained his little feat with the "M" word, which he soon learned was forbidden. The only thing was that even Harry's pain tolerance was starting to give, as another ginormous fist destroyed his left leg. Harry was starting to lose consciousness when he started feeling a tingly feeling. He automatically followed it as it traveled throughout his body, seeming to warm everything it touched.

He followed the feeling back into his mind, and blacked out.

He awoke to the chilling sound of dark laughter, coming from every direction. He was in a large room, with a great big shivering ball in the middle. The ball was completely golden, except for a small pitch black seeming to feed off the golden ball. A figure walked out of the black patch, laughing continuously in the same chilling tones.

He had dark hair, dark green eyes, and skin paler than alabaster. It's me…. Harry thought.

The dark Harry looked down at the prone Harry lying on the floor, and reached a hand towards the scar on the boys forehead. Harry could immediately feel the essence filling his mind, and a pleasure unlike any other he had ever felt flowed through his body. Harry was lost in passion, not feeling anything else, as the dark presence started taking over.

Harry automatically reacted. Rage screamed out of his every pore, demanding vengeance for the actions of his evil self. He automatically forced the presence from his mind, and then blocked it with iron strands of pure willpower, creating a perfect dome around the boy's mind.

He regained control of his dream world, and attacked the surprised dark entity with all of his strength. The Evil Harry recoiled in shock as dark yellow energy surrounded the original, slowly getting darker, stealing energy from the dark pretender. The Evil Harry's power weakened, showing his true face, red eyes, slits for a nose, and a high, screeching scream. Decades of memories and knowledge flowed through Harry's head, and somehow, he comprehended all of it. He discarded most of the memories automatically, only keeping the ones that he learned from. Knowledge of dark magic was sent into Harry's brain, storing it in a space Harry had no idea existed.

So its magic I can do. With magic, I can use anyone, kill everyone, and do whatever I want. I will always protect Mr. Page, though. Anyone who comes in my way will be destroyed, anyone who joins me will be rewarded, and anyone who tries to change me… They've got another thing coming.

So, love it? Hate it? I appreciate any advice and criticisms, I'm fine with flaming, because, honestly, I only want to beta stories, and this is going to be a side project once I can actually beta stuff. I hope people actually know what I'm talking about with the characters and stuff, but if you don't, shame on you because you are absolutely musically retarded. Anyway, tell me if you like this idea, because I've got like 10 other story ideas in my head.