Disclaimer - I don't own anything you see, except the plot.
Summary - Harry Potter was always destined for great things, but when he was forsaken by Dumbledore, his destiny changed, with new friends, new family, and greater power that before. He tries to help the Wizarding World but can he let go of his dark past? X Men/Harry Potter Crossover.
Author's note - The title might change, because I don't like it and cant think of a better on, if you have any ideas, please, please, please tell me.
Mutated Genes
Chapter One
The muscles in Harry's arms strained as he held the large pan in both hands. He watched carefully, with one eye on the bacon sizzling in the pan, clasped in his hands, while the rest of his attention was focussed on his uncle as he unfolded the newspaper he had ordered his nephew to bring him, a few minutes prior. His aunt, meanwhile had just entered the kitchen carrying her son, Dudley in her hands. Harry was amazed that his aunt could still carry his cousin, the boy had just turned seven and was extremely fat. He looked at the three of them, and gave a silent sigh of relief, all of them seemed to be in a good mood, hopefully he wouldn't be punished today.
Harry still had bruises from his last punishment, which had been last week, his Uncle Vernon had beaten him black and blue for the currently cracked kitchen window, it had almost been smashed by a cricket ball. Harry knew by now not to bother trying to say that he had been in his room, the cupboard under the stairs at the time, and not to blame it on Dudley, who was in fact the culprit, he had later happily told him when Harry had to weed the back garden. His punishment would have been much more worse, and apparently much more fitting for a freak.
Sighing, Harry repositioned the pan in his hands so that he could flip the bacon with the metal fork, making sure that it didn't burn. He also shifted on the cardboard box he was standing to enable him to reach the counters and cooker in the kitchen. He couldn't help but still at the ominous creaking sound that occurred because of his movements. The box he was standing on was from the stereo that Uncle Vernon had bought to celebrate his promotion, and, as Harry had thought, the box had been much too weak and small to hold him for long. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he had completely that he had completely forgotten to keep as still as possible and, sure enough, the box collapsed, taking Harry, the pan, and all its contents with it.
Harry gasped as he landed hard on his back and froze once more in shock and pain as the fat and oil from out of the pan scorched his arm as it splashed onto him, and then, it slowly turned to dread, as he understood what had happened and realised that a sudden silence had fallen on the kitchen.
Harry was quickly pulled up from where he lay on the floor, covered in cooking fat and surrounded in bacon. He automatically tried to pull away from his assailant as he barely managed to keep his feet under him as the hands began to shake him and the grip tightened to bruising force. However a slap to his face stopped him as he realised his uncle now held him and what this meant for him.
Another slap hit him, and Harry dizzily realised that his uncle was yelling at him, concentrating beyond his aching head, he tried to focus on the words his uncle was spitting at him.
" - ungrateful freak. How dare you, you stupid child, that's the fifth time in the past three weeks that you've spilled our food. What's the matter? Don't want to pay for all of the money we've wasted to feed and clothe you!" Blows rained down on Harry, and he couldn't help but whimper, even as his uncle brought his fists down on his frail six years old nephew's body, harder in response. Harry heard his aunt in the background, taking his cousin out of the room, and he filled with dread at being alone with Uncle Vernon. "Well fine," Harry heard him say, his voice no longer full of rage, but so cold that he shivered in fear, "if you don't want to pay, I won't make you. But then I guess we really don't need you here anymore."
And then he grinned. Another helpless whimper slid out of Harry's mouth before he could call it back in, this was because of his uncle's face, he had never grinned like that before, and he had certainly never grinned at Harry before. It wasn't the sappy grin, filled with love, that he shot at Aunt Petunia when she brought him a drink late at night. Nor was it the wide grin he showed Dudley, filled with pride for everything his cousin did, even if he had been bad at it. Harry's eyes widened as he saw his uncle picked up the large pan he had dropped, and the implications of what he had just said just sunk in.
Pain flared through his veins and concentrated on his left knee, he tried to choke back a scream at the searing pain, but he couldn't help letting the helpless sob slip out, even if it did fuel his uncle's rage, his knee felt like it was on fire. Another hit, and his arm felt numb, he hadn't realised he had lifted it up to protect himself, it flopped back down as it was hit again, and Harry's back arched at the pain, he was sure that second hit had broken his arm. More blows hit him, on his torso and head, as well as his arms and legs. Attempting to escape from the pain, his eyes slid closed as tears started to slip quietly down his cheeks.
Harry didn't like the pain his family caused, he didn't like the punches and kicks his uncle gave him, for little or no reason, the slaps and pinches his aunt gave him, for failing to complete the list of chores, that were to many for him to complete each day, and only seemed to be getting larger as he grew older. He hated the games Dudley played, especially Harry Hunting, and all the pain his cousin caused him, like when he had pushed him down the stairs. They always said that he deserved it, but Harry couldn't help but feel that that wasn't true, he was only a kid, he couldn't remember doing anything wrong to explain their behaviour.
Sometimes he hated them because of it, hated them so much that he wished they could feel what he did, how it felt to be beaten and downtrodden.
This was the last thought that filled his mind as the pain that his uncle was causing him overcame him, concentrating on his uncle, he heard the pain filled screams of a man and the panicked cries of a woman, both voices seemed familiar, but Harry couldn't dwell on them as he fell sideways into the darkness.
When Harry woke up, he was literally and figuratively in the dark. Confusion filled him when he took in his room, he could recognise the feel of the bed beneath him, even though he couldn't see his surroundings. He also took in his aching body and his confusion grew; hadn't his uncle implied that he was going to kill him? He knew better than most that when his uncle said he'd do something, he would do it.
Voices broke him out of his haze, loud ones, well, one loud voice. He could hear his Aunt Petunia's voice screeching, unintelligible words form where he was, although, because of the volume, he could hear a few words - freak, Vernon, hospital - were just a few. He could also hear another voice, male this time, he wasn't screaming, but his voice floated to where Harry was quite easily, this was a man who commanded attention. He could only just hear him through he cupboard door, and didn't recognise the voice.
Harry's aunt fell silent, and he could hear her footsteps come into the hallway towards his room instead. Unlocking the door and pulling him out, she thrust him towards an unknown man, who must have been speaking before, and a woman, both standing in the kitchen where Harry realised that they must have been talking before. Aunt Petunia then backed out of the hallway, and out to the backyard, where he could just see his cousin try and fail to play on the seesaw all on his own, without a backwards glance.
The two unknown adults were still standing in the kitchen, staring at him. The woman looked like something massive was on her mind, her eyes were blank as she stared at him, and while he could tell that she could see him, Harry wasn't sure that he was what she actually saw. The man, however, was looking at him as if he was seeing right through Harry's skin and bones, and everything that made him Harry, just to see how he was made, and how he worked. His eyes were icy and sharp, but Harry could see a glimmer of intrigue in them, he wouldn't be trusting this man anytime soon, he didn't like the feelings that look and the man gave him.
Seeming to notice that Harry hadn't yet moved, the man did instead. When he got to him, he bent his knees as if to get closer to him, he waited until they were eye to eye before he spoke. His voice was soft and caring, or at least, it sounded soft and caring, but to Harry, on this man it seemed forced. "Well, hello. Harry is it? We have come to offer you help to … train and define certain abilities you may have, your aunt has already agreed and you're all ours."
Harry couldn't help but feel as if everything was moving to fast and he didn't understand what was going on. Only one thing was clear to Harry as he was led to a plain black car, somehow he knew, deep down, that he was never coming back to the Dursley household. Even as his bad feeling grew, he couldn't help but feel happy about this. Nothing could be worse that where he just come from, could it?
(I will give a smiley face on a pretty sticker, if anyone can guess who the two 'strangers' are).