Harry Evans was a prodigious child. He was capable of mental movements beyond his relatives' imaginations. He wasn't a mathematical or scientific specialist, however; his relatives had seen to that. But he was a philosophical and psychological master. He had to be in order to survive in the physically untarnished manner that he had.

Using his gift for misdirection, Harry was able to entertain his pernicious relatives. He was able to play on their fears and loves and aspirations. He was able to manipulate their cognition to the point where even he grew to fear his abilities. He would take on the role of Entertainer in their presence; he would read their minds, perform illusory tricks; basically, he would do anything he could in order to avoid the emotional abuse to which he was often subjected.

Essentially, Harry was taught to survive through manipulating the human element. Though certainly, partly a result of nurturing, nature itself played a large role. Harry was born an intuitive child. Complex associations were occurring in his mind from birth. As a child he would often exhibit a sly, shy grin; a Mona Lisa smile; a signification of his two sided psyche. His eyes would wonder around taking in the people and attempting to understand them and organize them into systems of his own creation. And in doing this, Harry would present an empathetic and noble and proud self to the world: a defiant idealist set on organizing the world in the proper sense, his sense. However, there was another side to this aspiring leader. A side he had hid from himself, until that fateful night.

Being raised by his relatives taught Harry the most crucial lesson he even learned in his life: you can't trust a title. You can't trust people to do the right thing because of who they are. You can't look at a man, see how the world sees him, and judge him based on that pseudo-reflection. You have to see what he does and how and why he does it. And watching his relatives, Harry only saw acts of hatred and bigotry inspired by greediness and selfishness and ignorance parading as acts of "generosity" and "love" inspired by the pathological need to be "normal" and "good" and "holy".

Going to a place of worship every Sunday in his early childhood taught Harry the power of belief and illusion. He learned to distrust the church from a young age. He saw through the lies; he saw through the control. He could see that well: the manipulation of thought. He even admired the practitioners of the art; he admired their self-control. And secretly, he longed to be one and - in so doing - expose the lies and controls of others.

In short, he longed to be a Mentalist, a manipulator of thought, a man who doesn't have to live in fear of being taken advantage of, because he controls all the outcomes. Mentalism and illusionism meant freedom to young Evans, and hell if anyone would stop him sharing his gifts with the world.

Chapter 1

Wondering down the alley, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed young master stalked proudly down the road, drinking in the sights and sounds of the Wizard Underground in London. His eyes sparkled with hidden meaning and magic, attracting a portion of the passersby who could subconsciously feel the immense strength of the boy.

Approaching a tall marble structure with "Gringott's" emblazoned on it, the noble child entered resolutely, without fear, like his father would have taught him. He went to the first open counter he saw, sly grin on his face, he intoned:

"Hello. I'm here for my one o'clock."

The goblin who received him checked his watch - which read ten thirty - and glared expectantly, "And you are?"

"The Heir of Slytherin, of course."

The boy watched the emotions play out very quickly on the creature's face, first a mixture of amusement and shock led to fear and awe which led to doubt and mischief which led to:

"But, of course, sire. Right this way. We'll get you your vault keys."

The goblin hopped deftly over the counter, and continued on, marching importantly down the hallway which continued on to the east side of the building: where the Gringott's prison system was set up centuries ago.

Claiming to be a descendent of a dead prestigious family was a common occurrence in England prior to the Goblin Revolts of the 1470s. As a result of the war, the Bank, on the authority of the Ministry, established a criminal system especially for those fraudsters. Or at least this was the publically touted excuse for the Goblins to have their own secret prisons in which to store bodies the Ministry would rather pretend did not exist.

Some say the war was a success, restoring order and justice. Others saw it as a front for the establishment of such a system. In either case, the media's exaltation of the decrease in the amount of people claiming to be descendent from old, rich, and dead families over the years gave the Ministry the perfect public perception in order to push their pure-blood agenda on the people, involuntarily. 'If the war against the deluded bigots is to be won, this system will have to go,' the blonde youth thought.

Harry's disguise was flawless. He had been able to go the Non-Magic Store and buy the supplies needed to put on the show in which he was currently engaging. He had seen a smaller boy around his age acting the part of spoiled rich kid to a T and stolen his identity (or at least crafted a character based on such). In so doing, Harry ensured a thorough investigation into this character would lead to nowhere. He had even had fun leaving a trail that would only lead investigators to a house full of dead Death Eaters and undone blood magic and hidden in the basement the bodies of a small (well, few in number shall we say) muggle family. And yet, none of the evidence he left could allow any indication of there having been a dark-haired bespectacled fellow in that house, ever.

Harry slowly smirked as they arrived where he knew he needed to be.

Author's Note: Hi! This is my first fanfic. I'm not sure if I should pursue this. It really depends on whether anyone is interested in my proceeding. I was basically hoping to craft a new type of character through which the role of "Harry" could be portrayed. I'm just tired of all the either "acquiescing Harrys" (the ones who blow Dumbledore and fuck Ginny/Hermione and basically act like Jesus, AKA self-sacrificing, AKA OOC for an abused child whose every move has been planned for him) or "bad-ass Harrys" (the ones who fuck everybody and kill everybody). There's rarely a good balance. And rarely are these characters the least bit charismatic and complex. It usually amounts to sounding like some horny teenager writing with too little imagination; you can tell they are projecting their feelings onto the characters and the resulting story sounds like some preachy moral lesson involving fictional stories. In short, those stories are boring, unimaginative, and unintellectual. So anyway, if you'd like something not like what I mentioned, please tell me, so that I will pursue this. If not, pshh, I got better things to do.


Jimmy Riddle.