The hand came down, again and again; each strike leaving a bright red mark on soft skin. An angry face was all he saw as the wrath of his uncle met him once more. He wanted it to stop but crying out would only worsen the rage of the man he feared, why did it have to be him? Why was he the one subjected to this while his parents and brother lived in luxury?
"You should be thanking me for everything I have done and what do you do? Show Dudley up in front of the class?" his uncle accused as Harry stood still. He was used to this after six years, he was seven and this happened often enough. Much to the delight of his aunt and cousin, maybe even his parents not that they ever came to see him. They did once, but they left quickly on his brother's insistence. He was spoilt and loved by almost everything and he Harry was starved and beaten. He wanted it to stop after so long but he could do nothing against the weight of this man.
He was sure his brother could have stopped this, by using magic but that was a skill Harry lacked. He was a squib apparently, meaning he would never learn magic and was instead confined to the normal world.
"What do you have to say for yourself boy?" Vernon demanded through strikes. Harry said nothing, knowing it would only fuel his rage but this time the man wanted an answer.
"Stop!" Harry pleaded suddenly, his voice emerging victorious in a battle with fear, but he saw the anger on his uncle's face and regretted the decision immediately.
"What!" the scream was blurred and Harry felt something inside him, his mind was suddenly alive and when he answered; he spoke not as a small boy but as something else.
"STOP!" His voice was electrified and for the faintest of moments his uncle retreated, he looked almost scared and Harry savoured that single moment. That moment before it turned back to rage and he moved to strike again.
At long last a voice emerged from nowhere shook the house and Harry felt himself fall to the floor, he had been backed up in a corner. Inches from his cupboard home that he was seconds away from being locked.
"Who was that?"
You have succeeded where we have failed, the voice came again and with each word the house shook. Dust and splinters rained down upon them.
"Are you doing this boy?" Vernon roared but he did not look angry but instead frightened.
You are the one! The voice sounded and then Harry saw a glint of purple and his uncle's face pale.
"Vernon what is..." his aunt trailed off as Harry felt a presence behind him, he did not turn.
"What are you?" a question was asked by one
You have succeeded where we have failed, we who lost, we who suffered, we who tried. You are the one, the voice declared once more and then Harry saw a shining purple ball strike his uncle who clutched his head and tumbled backwards.
"No!" Petunia was next and the same thing happened to her, Harry prepared for his own life to be silenced but when it did not he turned to look at this intruder.
His eyes met a tall, hooded figure towering above him; its height elevated by the fact it hovered a metre off the ground. It was draped in a long, flowing red robe which masked all of its body and only slight movement beneath was noticeable. Down upon him it looked, through a golden mask with two slits for eye but no opening for a mouth or nose.
You are the one it declared with robes billowing, then out from the flowing red came a single wrinkled black arm, then from the other side came another. Thin sickly things they were with gnarled fingers sprouting from creased hands which met each other quickly. The creature tensed and purple veins shone for a second before a powerful sphere of energy of the same colour appeared. With a flash Harry was falling and then he felt no more as he sunk into nothingness.
He was still falling though this time through a bottomless black pit. Harry could see, hear or feel nothing except his own body. Until the voice began
Weakness was always our fatal flaw, our power while centralised corrupted our forms and made us weak. No strength and we began to rely only on our minds for substance, there could be no breeding, only dying. So we resolved to change this.
"Who are you?" a scared Harry demanded but he was met with silence and instead a dark robed creature appeared before him, a skeletal hand reached forward and emotion became void.
Our first attempt was simple; why not improve what we had? We needed stronger forms which could harness our true potential, we could feed on the delicacy of thought and procreate with fungal ease.
The creature suddenly began to withdraw.
Though this was a mistake, the form was unusable. Hunger took over and the need for human substance ensured a feral mindset, our powers were useless as was this form. Then came a shadow being, from there an immortal bird but both of these were unusable for one reason or indeed another.
Harry saw his uncle appear, but he knew the man to be dead. It was an image, nothing more
This was the design that came after a giant being, we would house ourselves in the mind and control from there. But the power to hold us was rare and this model was unsuitable.
Harry's father, James Potter appeared and the only thing Harry could do was glare at the image of the man who abandoned him in favour of his twin.
We attempted to create the ability to house us, a complex unnatural power that was unable to hold beings such as us. So this too was disregarded. We tried a hundred, a thousand more beings in that time but each was flawed , each was useless and when we had resigned to our fate we felt a new presence.
Harry saw himself reflected in the empty void
You have the power, you have the gift. You were able to use it and it was not the power the others hold, it was not this magic but a pure form of our raw ability.
"Me?" Harry questioned. This couldn't be, he was not powerful? Did they have the wrong twin
Yes you, we know your life has been littered with you being told you are nothing and being ignored in favour of the wizard prince. We know this and we do not care. For you have the gift, you can be one of us.
Four of the creatures Harry had seen at Privet drive appeared, surrounding him in this unknowable place.
"What are you?"
We are the Ethereal ones, and we want you Harry Potter. We desire you to join us.
Nine years later
"This is strange," James Potter commented, he had no other words to use for such an occurrence. He was outside with Sirius, both of them waiting for a contact. Peter Pettigrew of all people was trying to worm his way back into the order. He had information for them apparently and was going to arrive alone, at midnight.
"It's more than bloody strange," Sirius growled, he was not going to let the rat inside Grimmauld place which was on the other side of the street they were waiting by. He needed to know the information was genuine first.
"Why didn't he just apparate?" James cursed, he hated the mere mention of the man who had led Voldemort to their home. His betrayal had haunted him and then when he escaped to revive his old master it had been nothing but blood boiling; and now the rat wanted to return.
"I don't know," Sirius replied, backup was inside and it was almost time.
"Look," a car was rolling down the street, it had to be him and indeed in the passenger seat was Peter Pettigrew. The car stopped and the door opened, James had his wand ready, fearing a trap.
Pettigrew! The car exploded but Peter was already running towards his old friend with fear in his eyes as his ruined vehicle toppled. The order exploded from the door, led by Dumbledore with wands drawn they charged out.
"What the hell!" Sirius screamed looking around, one by one the streetlights were going off,
"Oh no, oh no. They sent one!" Peter's fearful voice was a mystery
"What the hell is this rat?" James growled, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
"Listen to me, you need to know..." he never finished, the scrawny man was thrown back by an unseen force and sent to the ground. Both men turned and saw a figure standing calmly in front of them.
Black robes trailed down to the floor with two human arms poking out from each side, no wand was in his hand and his face was shrouded in a golden mask. A featureless object with nothing but two empty eye sockets breaking up the shiny smooth metal shrouding the person's face.
"Who are you?" Sirius demanded moving a few steps, trying to get closer. The figure glared at him as the wands of the entire order faced him down.
"You need not know that Black, move!" a voice demanded, a deep writhing one which seemed laced with others. He raised both hands to chest level.
"Place your wand on the ground," Dumbledore ordered suddenly, his voice was riddled with authority and yet the figure did not move.
"I am afraid that is impossible," he replied his voice unafraid.
"Why?" Dumbledore questioned
"Because I don't have one," was his twisting reply. Then in a single, fluid movement his hand shot out and each member of the order felt a strong force whip their backs and send them to the ground.
"You betrayed us Pettigrew," he stated looking at the man who was on his feet, having missed whatever had caused the order to fall. He looked tempted to flee.
Both the figure's hands met around his chest and a vibrant purple ball grew between them.
"Goodbye Peter," was all the figure said before holding the ball with one hand and shooting it at him, the moment it hit Pettigrew's hands clutched his head and he fell back. Dead before he even hit the floor.
"Stupefy!" Mad Eye cursed from the floor, he had recovered quicker than anyone and saw the figure begin to fall back. The others began to rise and Mad Eye grinned with malice as he watched, but instead of falling the figure seemed in pain. He was not stunned,
"No," Lily spoke first and then the others saw why, the figure had his hands cupped around his face, both of them bleeding a bright purple substance. For between them was a red light, trapped and stopped by the power. This was the stunner Mad Eye had thrown. The figure was wrestling with it and then he was back at normal height, looking at the order; all of them too shocked to move.
"Indeed," was his response before throwing it back at twice the speed, knocking the man out before he could even throw up a shield.
"Stupe.." Lily Potter tried to attack but a beam of purple shrouded her face and with a scream she clutched her forehead. Her face then was neutral and she pointed her wand at herself.
"Now all of you place your wands on the ground or she dies," the figure ordered darkly,
"You have to the count of three, one, two,"
"Avada," Lily began in a vacant tone.
"Wands down!" Dumbledore ordered harshly, looking at the figure and Lily with concern, with worry, with shock. One by one all of the wands fell,
"Look at me!" all the order complied in an instant.
"Good, now sleep," the figure hissed raising his other hand which was shining purple, purple flashes all filled the eyes of the order who one by one dropped to the floor.
When all were done Harry released his mother and she joined the sleeping mass. Then he turned, adjusted his mask and vanished. His mission was complete.