A/N:This is the prologue/introduction, but first here's the full summary:
After his parents are betrayed by Sirius Black and killed by Lord Voldemort, Harry is taken in by his father's squib brother: Rupert Potter – an army general, a secret member of the Order, and an unlikely best friend of Severus Snape. Rupert teaches Harry about muggle weapons, muggle fighting, and most importantly, he tells Harry exactly what happened that cold October night in Godric's Hollow.
Then, after the losing everyone he loves most, Harry only wants one thing: REVENGE! With the help of his new (and old) friends at Hogwarts, that's exactly what he will get.
Meet Harry Potter: Assassin.
Prologue - "4 More Murders."
Early morning sun shone down through the windows onto the creamy sheets of Harry's bed. He moaned, rolling over and pulling a pillow on top of his head. He knew he had to get up soon, but the warmth of his bed enveloped him in a hug and refused to let him go.
He squeezed shut his eyes, hoping that maybe he could get another half hour or so of sleep before his uncle came to wake him up, but just as he felt himself drifting off, he heard his door creak open.
"Harry," the gruff voice said quietly. "Time to get up. Sev'll be here in a bit."
Harry groaned and rolled over to stare up at his uncle, who was still dressed in his pyjamas and looked like he had only got out of bed a couple of seconds ago. " What's the time?"
Rupert checked the clock on the wall with a sleepy squint. "Quarter past six."
Harry grumbled something unintelligible and sat up. "When's Sev coming?"
"Six forty-five," he said, before yawning and stumbling out in a slight daze that Harry was used to from him so early in the morning.
"Great," said Harry, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. Why did he have to come so bloody early?
Severus tapped lightly on the window, peering into the cottage in hope of spotting somebody – anybody. It had been his idea to start lessons with Harry this early, but so far it hadn't gone too well: last week he had had to break in because nobody had answered the door, and the week before Rupert had attacked him, mistaking him for a burglar.
Hopefully, this time, things would be a bit better. He had decided to begin this early for the practical reason that the school term was still in full swing, and wouldn't be over for another month. He wanted Harry to be as prepared as possible for his first year at Hogwarts.
Severus didn't have to wait for long for some shelter from the surprisingly cold morning, because after only a couple of minutes of knocking, a dishevelled looking Rupert opened the front door.
"Hey Sev," he said, trying to stifle a yawn. He pulled the potions master in clumsily and kicked the front door shut. "It's bloody freezing, you know."
Severus smiled. He had known Rupert Potter since he was twelve years old, and despite having hated his older brother James, he thought of Rupert as family. "Is Harry up?" asked Severus, walking through the living room and into the kitchen, where Rupert was now absently prodding a cactus on the window sill.
He shrugged. "I tried to get him up about half an hour ago, so I don't know whether he's – oh, hey Harry. You're up!"
The boy made his way down the stairs with a sleepy smile on his face. At least he was dressed, unlike Rupert who was still in a dressing gown and scruffy tartan pyjamas.
He beamed as he stumbled down the last two steps. "Hey there, Severus."
Severus smiled, and - as always - was startled by the boy's resemblance to his parents. His green eyes were fogged over slightly with sleep, and his dark hair was ruffled up around his head in the same way Rupert's was.
"Good morning Harry," he said. "Glad to see you're just about up."
Harry smiled, though had obviously not heard a word that had been said. "Can I have some breakfast, D – umm, Uncle Rupert?"
Severus winced at the mistake. Was he about to say 'Dad' instead of Rupert? Rupert hadn't seemed to notice the mistake. Maybe Severus had just misheard. At least he hoped he had.
"Sure thing," he said, smiling. "We've got toast, or cereal – hey, Sev, do you want anything to eat? Or a drink? I don't have any coffee – can't stand the thing – but you know I can make a good cup of tea. What do you say?"
He considered for a moment, but before he was able to answer, a grey owl flew unexpectedly through the open window, its talons skimming the top of Rupert's head.
"Blimey," said Rupert with a light chuckle. "Watch out."
The small owl landed on Severus's shoulder, and affectionately nipped at his ear lobe. The owl wasn't familiar to him, but the elegant handwriting on the envelope of the letter certainly was.
"Dumbledore," he whispered.
Rupert looked rather uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other whilst casting a cautious glance in Harry's direction. "Do you want to open it somewhere more private?"
Severus shook his head, tearing open the letter with an urgency that he had never felt before. His eyes scanned over the words, and he could feel the colour drain from his face. This couldn't be happening, not now.
"Severus?" asked Rupert, his voice sharp, cutting through Severus's panic somewhat.
The wizard looked up, heart racing in his chest. "I. . .I need to get back to Hogwarts. There's been some sort of . . . break in."
Rupert straightened up. Any resemblance of tiredness had disappeared completely."A break in? Are you sure?"
He looked into his old friend's light brown eyes, eyes that could have quite as easily belonged to James Potter instead of the calmer, younger man. "You might want to come along with me, Rupert. This is a matter concerning you."
"Concerning me?" asked a dubious Rupert. Of course, thought Severus, he was bound to be confused. How could this have anything to do with him, a squib? It wasn't that Severus had anything against squibs, but he knew that most wizards were reluctant to involve them in anything other than matters where they'd be of use. And there weren't many occasions where squibs could help out.
Severus nodded, and then glanced down at Harry before looking back up again. "We should go, Rupert. I'm sure I can arrange someone to look after Harry whilst we're gone." The young wizard looked ready to protest, but Severus cut him off. "Harry, you're 10 years old. You cannot stay home alone."
Rupert nodded, now alert. "Harry, pack some training clothes into your bag. Severus will take you to the Burrow ‒"
"Excuse me?" Severus hissed, wondering what on earth the man was thinking. "You know full well that it isn't safe enough there for him. I'll take him to Minerva for now. She can look after him."
It was obvious that Rupert wasn't sure what to think of this. Severus knew he didn't particularly like the head of house, but he also knew that Rupert was well aware she had a fondness for Harry, a fondness that Severus suspected was mainly due to the young boy's similarities to his parents in not only looks, but personality.
Yes, Harry certainly had inherited some of his parents' most famed qualities.
"Harry," said Severus. "We're going to Hogwarts. Most of the students will be asleep, so hopefully you won't attract too much attention."
Harry beamed, his eyes wide and a feigned expression of innocence casting over his face. "Of course," he said. "Let me just pack my stuff. I'll be a couple of minutes."
Severus watched with narrowed eyes as the boy bounded up the stairs, knowing full well that he was definitely up to something suspicious.
Harry walked behind the two wizards down the empty school corridors, wondering if he'd have a chance to get away – and hopefully sneak into the Gryffindor tower. He owed Fred and George a prank. They'd had it coming for a long time now.
It was eerily quiet, and Harry was pretty sure that something was 'up', as his uncle Rupert frequently put it. Their slow footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Severus seemed almost hesitant to go any further.
"It's bound not to be too serious," he reassured for about the tenth time. "I'm sure it'll be fine."
Rupert laughed quietly. "Stop worrying, Sev. You know how Albus likes to overreact sometimes. He likes a little drama."
The trio turned down another corner, Rupert almost walking straight into Professor McGonagall.
"Good Morning, Minerv ‒"
"You have to get Harry out," she whispered, her voice uneven. "Severus, find Albus. Rupert . . . go with him. I'll get Harry to somewhere safe."
Severus frowned. "What's happeni‒?"
"Just go," she screeched, taking hold of Harry's shoulders and guiding him back down the corridor.
"Look after my boy," Rupert's voice echoed down the empty corridor.
The witch then took hold of Harry's hand, pulling him down the castle after her.
"P-Professor?" asked Harry, calling her the name he had always called her when he talked to her in the school. Sometimes she didn't like being called Minerva, or even Mrs McGonagall. "What's happening?"
She didn't reply, but instead started running faster, her heels clapping against the stone floor. Then, without warning, she pushed Harry to the left, and he stumbled through an open door. Just as he regained his balance, the wooden door slammed in his face. Harry blinked a few times, his eyes getting used to the dim light.
"You stay here, Mr Potter," she spoke quietly, feverishly, from outside. "You must stay here until I come back to get you. Do you understand?"
He wanted to say so many things, but all he said was, "Yes, Professor."
"Whatever happens, Mr Potter," she said again, "You will stay in here."
But what happened next – well, after about five minutes of waiting patiently, actually – forced Harry to leave his cramped, damp hiding space.
"Dead?" he heard the voice scream. "Rupert's dead? What about Severus?"
Harry felt a sudden panic. It felt almost as if his heart had sunk into his stomach, leaving an empty void in his chest.
Then he rammed open the door, sprinting out into the corridor. He followed the noises: cackling laughter and yells of pain. He approached an unfamiliar corridor, and felt his heart sink even lower into his stomach – if that was even possible.
Lying on the floor, almost leaning against the wall, was his uncle Rupert. He was hidden from the rest of the corridor by an odd looking wooden box. His skin was deathly white, eyes half closed. Dead. In front of the box, almost out of view, were two wizards duelling, their red sparks flying everywhere. It was Severus, and another wizard in a silver mask.
Harry watched the duel in silence until he couldn't just stand back and watch anymore. He stepped into the masked wizard's view, unguarded and vulnerable. The wizard laughed, a cackling sound that made Harry's hair rise on end. This was the man who killed his uncle, he was sure of it.
"Harry," the wizard spoke quietly, voice deadly smooth. Severus turned, shock consuming his features.
"No, Harry. Run," Severus said, turning back to the masked man and creating a temporary shield that blocked the masked wizard's spells. "Run, now." Severus turned to the shield, shaking with fatigue as he tried to keep it up for Harry to run.
Harry couldn't move. His anger grew, and he felt ready to explode. Severus turned back to Harry again, sweat running down his face. He gave Harry a sympathetic frown and turned back to the wizard, ready to continue fighting.
But then, as if from nowhere, another wizard appeared. He also wore a silver mask. He joined in the fight, trying to get past Severus to Harry. Harry was then pushed harshly out of the way by a teacher he didn't know, who had come to help.
As the battle around him continued, Harry crawled to the dead body of his uncle. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He had to remember what his uncle had told him: he had to stay strong.
Without a wand, Harry knew – like his uncle – that he was pretty useless in a fight. He had no idea what to do, but knew that he had to stop Severus from being hurt. And there was only one way to do that.
Harry stood, and in a rather timid voice said: "I surrender. I give myself up."
Nobody had seemed to hear him, so Harry tried again: "I surrender. You can take me."
Again, his voice was lost in the sound of the fight.
Harry readied himself to shout again, but then heard a quiet ringing in his ears. He ignored it for a moment, and shouted again: "I surrender. You can take me. Just don't hurt anyone else."
The sound shattered the windows, and almost knocked Harry of his feet. All four wizards turned to look at him, with the same confused expressions adorning their faces.
Severus opened his mouth to say something, and just as he did, a flash of green light exploded from one of the masked man's wands. Harry knew it all too well: the killing curse. Avada Kedavra. He fell to the ground with a thud, head cracking against the stone floor.
Harry screamed, and performed his second act of accidental magic for the day. The two masked men grabbed their heads, shrieking in agony as Harry's voice broke off into silence. Blood dripped down from their ears, and within a couple of seconds, they were both dead too.
Harry stumbled back, feeling weak. The world was starting to spin.
He had just killed two men.
And both members of his only remaining family had died trying to protect him.
Harry had, effectively, killed four more people within the space of between 4 and 14 minutes.
That made his total number of deaths 6: two dark wizards, Severus Snape, Rupert Potter, and of course his parents: James and Lily.
He was a murderer.
If it wasn't for him, all of those people would be alive.
He gulped, knowing that this was the last time he would let anyone die for him. He would not let this happen again. And there was only one way to do that.
"Harry?" a voice asked softly. It was the teacher who had come to help.
Harry felt the last ounce of strength drain from his body, and he fell awkwardly to the floor. As the world slowly faded to black, he vowed that the rest of his life would be spent tracking down and killing everyone responsible for this. He vowed not to let them get away with it. He vowed they would get what they deserved. He vowed that he'd be the one to do it.
He vowed he would avenge his family's deaths.