Summary: There was a letter addressed to Harry, from his mother; "Be aware," the letter said, "that the world is cruel and has teeth." In which Harry is betrayed by people who should have loved him, and receives help from unexpected sources. Smart!Dark!Creature!Harry.
Story warnings/expectations: Creatures and beasties of all sorts. Dark themes including (potentially): rape, abuse, homelessness, torture, all manner of sexual proclivities, profanity, insanity, violence, slaves, BDSM, brainwashing, mad scientists, inappropriate age gaps in relationships, general lewdness and Harry not giving a whit.
This is a 'Harry goes to another School' fiction.
Chapter Summary: Vindictive, Petunia gave Harry a letter he wasn't meant to have until he reached adulthood, given its contents. It has an irrevocable effect on a 7 year old Harry's development. The universe splits.
Prologue
"My Child,
Be aware that the world is cruel and has teeth. Trust few, and be loyal to yourself before all others. The wizarding world is darker than it appears, but it affords many opportunities to those who have the vision. If you have been raised among muggles as I have reason to believe you may be, drain their resources dry. Learn everything of value, and do not mistake weakness for submission. These are my warnings to you. These are the things I most fervently wish you to understand.
In spite of that, there are sparks in the world that you must be alert for. If you miss them, they will die and you will never know what might have been illuminated. I have had, as of this letter, only two sparks truly catch fire in my life.
Receiving my invitation to Hogwarts was a spark. Another I will explain as follows.
In the bowels of the ministry, away from my restless husband, I made a friend. In all my life I had never met a man as bold as he- as genius and brilliant as he. Had I known him before James, he is the man I should have like to have married, were it possible to marry a faceless, nameless man.
We bonded over our methods. Even in the darkest corners of the darkest rooms in the department of mysteries, only few had dared to see their brilliance through at the cost of their own well-being. Nearly all of us were exhausted to the point of insanity, but that was typical. Only a few of us knew the power in experiencing the results of our own work; in becoming our own dreams.
He was one such person. I was another. Most others had been careless I suppose and died, or had been caught too overtly and made to disappear.
I knew not too much about the specifics of his profession. He was in genetics, I was in spell creation. We both met during a brief dalliance with the veil of death, where we both had need of its secrets.
Be happy for me son. For a few years, I was truly, utterly, content. I had found a way to alleviate the shackles my marriage had forced on me.
But you must know what then happened.
We slept together, trapped in a two day lockdown. We had been studying the veil again, confirming the research of others as a favour, when it happened. The room you were conceived in was a beautiful thing of fay light and glittering stone.
It is impossible you will be a dullard. You understand the ramifications of this act and what I am implying. You are not James Potter's son. While you may not realise this yet, that is a blessing. I have left my journals as evidence in his duplicity as well as my own.
You are also not the prophecy child.
For all that I have done, I am glad you have no such burden on you.
I do not know who your father is; unspeakables are unknown to all but our council. But he is brilliant and of conviction. When he dies, your glamour will begin disengaging, and hereditary tests will no longer register James as your father. I am sorry that it will take his death to have you realise who he is, but at least you will know. I never will.
You, my darling, are the greatest thing my work has ever borne me. You are also- despite the fact that he will never know- the ultimate culmination of your father's work; do not hate him for what he has done.
I am not unhappy with the way my life developed, only that my research was never brought to full fruition, and that I will never see the man you grew into.
I hope you are brilliant like your father, and remember me at least fondly.
To my legacy, do not let anything, even your own humanity, stand in your way. There are no limitations to the determined mind. Be aware of everything, and beyond everything, act with ruthless efficiency to your own ends.
To my little boy, I hope you find a moment of love like I did; look for it.
Love always,
Lily Evans"
