God-Emperor of Little Whinging

By Polydicta

Harry Potter found a roll of five-pound notes. Enough to buy a meal and some second-hand science fiction books, very thick science fiction books.


All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.


God-Emperor of Little Whinging.

During one of his peregrinations through Little Whinging trying to avoid his cousin, eight year old Harry Potter found some money. Not a few coins, no. What Harry Potter found was a roll of five pound notes, fifty of them, in fact.

Now, in the big, wide world, two hundred and fifty pounds doesn't go that far, but in the world of an eight-year-old boy, even fifty pounds is enough to buy the world.

What Harry Potter actually bought, since it was Saturday, were a couple of books from a charity shop and a meal of chicken and chips washed down with a cola, all from the local chippy.

He sat and read the first book he had bought, not because of its title, but because of the picture on the front and how thick the book was. What no one realised was quite how intelligent Harry was, nor how fast he could read - it was just like magic.

By Wednesday week, having snuck his books and money into his cupboard under the stairs, he had finished reading the Dune books. The one he finished with was God-Emperor.

Friday night arrived. Somehow, he was never sure quite how, he sparked the ire of his uncle.

Since he had been well fed for the past week, with plenty of sugar in his diet, the beating he received didn't end quite the way his previous beatings had done.

He was thrown, brutally, into his cupboard by his uncle. He knew from experience that he had broken bones … ribs, wrist, thigh, shoulder. He knew by the grating pain that there was big damage. It was nothing new.

Being a wizard, his magic would perform almost miraculous repairs on his body … his body which was unaccustomed to having sufficient fuel to burn freely in repairs, and perhaps a bit more.



There was no movement from the cupboard under the stairs.

"Get up you useless whelp!"

Still nothing.

Dudley jumped on the stairs to annoy his cousin.

There was a response. A low rumbling and the stairs and cupboard burst upward and outward revealing …

There lay a … worm. It was easily fifteen feet long and four feet in diameter. It was scaled. Great sand-yellow and grey scales tipped with backward-pointing spines.

The face of the worm comprised two monstrous arms and a face … the green-eyed face of one Harry Potter.

The imperious gaze of the demon-boy fell on the Dursleys. They were judged and found wanting.


"Kneel before me, slaves!"

Dudley fainted, Vernon spluttered and Petunia screeched.


A bolt of energy flung the senior Dursleys through the plasterboard wall and into their front room.

"Do not displease me further, slaves, or it will be the last thing you do …"

"W-w-who a-a-are you?"

"Once, I was Harry Potter, now I am Ha'hrin Muad d'ib. Bow before your emperor."


Deep under the an office block in London, alarms were sounding in the underage magic department.

"Madam Hopkirk, what is it?"

The witch shook her head. "Something big in mid-Surrey. It's too big to pinpoint, but it's somewhere around the Whinging area. Looks like a major transfiguration and some kind of offensive magic."

Aurors and obliviators were despatched, but the area seemed to be quite … normal. There was nothing unusual to mark any part of the area as being under magical attack, nothing seemed out of place.


Harry was demanding food to be prepared. The Atriedes telepathic weapon seemed to work well for Harry. He had tried The Voice, and the strange, echoing commands had compelled his relatives easily.

At a sitting, Harry had eaten as much as the Dursleys generally ate during a week. He decided to go outside.

The first person he encountered was Piers Polkiss, one of Dudley's gang. Harry reared up and the bully was crushed beneath the scaly body. Harry continued his tour of the neighbourhood.

A hit-wizard happened on the changeling and fired off a stunner to no effect. A cutting hex did no more. A reductor hex simply ricocheted off the sandworm's scales.

Harry heard the zap and zing of the wizard's magic.


The wizard was thrown thirty feet. He scrambled up and ran. Ten minutes later, the wizard had returned with reinforcements.

The hexes and curses simply bounced off of Harry's new body.

"$$ FEAR ME $$"

The Voice, a command that travelled straight past the conscious and jerked directly on the brain's little twiddly bits, pushed the button marked 'Primal Terror.'

Twenty Hit Wizards, Aurors and Obliviators, men and women shaped and hardened in the forge of war and adversity variously fainted, wet themselves or whimpered.


Harry set himself up in the main hall of the local community centre. He demanded that the people of Little Whinging serve him as his vassals. He demanded food and he was fed, he demanded entertainment and he was entertained.

Harry demanded that they build him an army, and an army was commenced. He taught the weirding way as best these people could understand. The conquest of Greater Whinging began.

At last, the sandworm slept, three weeks of empire building had exhausted Harry's eight year old brain and the worm couldn't maintain his wakefulness any longer.

The sandworm slept and the child woke the next morning, wondering why his dream seemed to have caused him to sleep-walk to the local community centre. Quietly, he made his way back to Privet Drive where he disappeared once more behind Albus Dumbledore's magical obfuscation wards.


No one ever really got to the bottom of the strange events that May in Little Whinging. Certainly, the Dursleys were very careful not to displease their resident wizard again.


Some years later, Harry woke from the potion-induced trance. He saw his friends also beginning to stir.

"What did you get, 'Mione?"

She grinned, "A snow leopard and a dire wolf."

"Magical and non magical forms? Cool. I got a red setter dog, but no magical form."

"That's good Ron, at least you won't stand out in your animagus form. Neville?"

"I got a cave-bear and an ocelot."

"Cave bear? Merlin, Nev, that's a big one."

"Come on, Mate, let's hear what you got?"

Harry grinned. "An Arrakeen Sand-Worm and a Basilisk."

Hermione regarded her best friend and wondered just how he got a non-magical form based on a science fiction story. Still, it would go with that strange not-quite-magic he was so fond of throwing around.