Harry Potter

and the Alchemist's Cloak

Harry has dreams of a mysterious cupboard which seems to call to him for years, he can talk to snakes because his father could also do it; not because of Voldemort. Strong due to early exposure to magic due to the mysterious cloak.

"""PLEASE NOTE"""""" The first chapter is a little dark or violent and i know some will criticize this but I really want you all to feel what the characters are feeling and what really happens. In this story I'll tell you what really happens when you are in these kinds of situations. I won't tell you that death is painless.

SUMMARY-Harry has dreams of a mysterious cupboard which seems to call to him for years, he can talk to snakes because his father could also do it; not because of Voldemort. Strong due to early exposure to magic due to the mysterious cloak.

Chapter 1


In the night, a stormy night, she closed her eyes...

In the night, a stormy night, away she'd fly...


Harry fidgeted in his sleep. His tiny fingers reached out to the woman beside him.

"Mama!" he said, wrapping his tiny fingers round the breasts of the woman tightly.

The woman redirected his hands to her stomach and said in a calming tone

"Shhhh...My baby, Mama's right here."


"Reach out to me son, I'm right here"

Harry looked around and spotted the silver shadow floating in his dad's room.

He grabbed it and yanked but James caught it.

"Now, is not the right time, son."


"Lily run! He's here! Take Harry and go!" James shouted.

"Where is the blasted cloak?" James shouted amidst the sound of the front door being blasted to smithereens. Splinters got into all over his body. One large sharp wooden piece had got into his throat and was sticking out from the back.

"Ahh...James." Voldemort said stepping in front and hiding the view of James.

"How are you James?" Voldemort clenched and released his fingers as if doing the most disgusting thing "And as I see, you can't help in getting me the Cloak of Power..." He said mentioning his damaged voice box, "... I may as well as..." he pointed his wand at James...

"Avara Kedavra!" Voldemort quickly turned towards the sound and his eyes turned wide as he saw the green curse fired on him. He quickly turned on his foot, missing the spell by inches.

Voldemort's eyes glared, his nostrils flared, and spells flew from his wand mercilessly. Lily Potter was a teacher of Runes at Hogwarts, she was no duellist. The spells caught her in the eye. James Potter could only watch with angry, horrified eyes as his wife's head was blasted to pieces. Gunk of her brains flew in every direction as her lifeless body collapsed in a heap.

"This is what happens to the dirty blooded!" Voldemort said with his hands wiping the blood off his face. He heard scraping behind him. He turned, only to be driven in the chest by a sword.

"AHHH...!" Voldemort screamed as pain like white fire ran through his chest. His vision grew bleary, and for the first time in a long time, he felt afraid. He gazed with horror filled eyes and a scrunched nose at James Potter who was using every ounce of strength to push the sword into him deeper.

But James failed.

He fell backwards, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and the wood snapped in two that perforated his neck.

The sword in Voldemort's body started dissolving, and in no time shiny liquid platinum was flowing down his robes onto the floor. He gasped as he took hold of the table to maintain his balance. For once he thought that the Blood-traitor nearly killed him, but the runic magic on his skin had prevented any harm to his body.

'Should he go back? Should he leave his vanquisher to fate? What competition could a mere child put up in front of him?' Lord Voldemort felt really frightened now, but he still decided to complete the job. His inner conscience screamed to warn him "WHAT IN THE NAME OF PURISM ARE YOU DOING! DAMN THE HALF-BLOOD AND RUN!"

"SILENT YOU BRAT! LORD VOLDEMORT IS NO COWARD." The brave part of his consciousness screamed at the coward part.

"SILENCE!" Lord Voldemort ordered, hence shutting both of them.

With a pulsating and raw head, he balanced his body and walked towards the staircase.

The room looked perfectly normal, as if nothing dreaded had happened within the walls of this very same house.

The room reeked of bliss and calm, as if oblivious to the happenings surrounding it.

Lord Voldemort hated the sight of the room at first glance. Pink and yellow covers ruled the walls. For once Voldemort's senses were ensnared due to the calmness but he regained his hateful self again and searched the room.

The walls. All the walls were covered with runic magic. Magic that radiated calmness and provided security. He could read them all.

'Provide the inhabitants calmness', 'Provide the inhabitants bliss outside of the destruction of magic and life", "Rakshatam", "պաշտպանությունը". Thousands of runes carved on the walls read.

He made his steps slow and cautious over to the crib in the centre of the room. This child will be the reason for his destruction? Heh.

"Avara Kedavra!" Lord Voldemort screamed putting all his hate into the spell. But suddenly, a mist rose from the ground and wrapped itself around the baby and the curse rebounded at the wall beside him.

Voldemort's eyes widened, the cloak to unlimited power was in front of him, there it was, floating just mere inches from his grasp.

He touched it cautiously, as if the cloak was electrocuted. He touched and felt it against his hand and the cloak just felt pulsating and sleek, as if it was alive.

"GRAB IT! GRAB IT!" His greedy part of brain said.

"SHUT UP! WHAT IF IT IS MAGICKED?" The cautious part said.

Voldemort decided to go with the third part. He tried to kill the boy once again. Would the cloak save the boy again? Surely the most powerful cloak didn't serve a mere child. It was meant for the greatest of the greatest.

"AVARA KEDAVRA" He put all his hate in the spell. The calming charms were heavy in this room.

The sleek, watery cloak disappeared out of his hand, appeared in front of the crib and the spell rebounded. This time, in his direction.

Voldemort's senses flared. The throbbing in his temple sharpened, he heard all the sounds around him clearly, and the spell approached him slowly...slowly.

He turned on his heel. But he was too slow, he was moving slowly...slowly.

The runes on his body came in contact with the curse. A hiss and some blood vaporizing,

a blast and his chest open, a char and his lungs burnt, but Voldemort didn't die. He watched in slow motion as his body was destroyed, and he still felt each sensation. He shouted in pure agony, the tendrils of pain multiplied.

And then, he was free.

He floated above his burning ashes. He looked around and thought 'Was he dead?' No he was not. He was a mere spirit. That is what he was.


"Lit'le Harry slept when we were flying over Bristol. A really calm baby, Headmaster Dumbledore sir. Here,.." Hagrid said caressed the baby with a finger and carefully gave it to the old wizard, wiping a tear off his cheek.

"No, no Hagrid don't cry, it's just a period of some years and you can always meet him again." Headmaster said, taking the baby and looking at him fondly.

"This boy will be famous one day Albus," Minerva said, standing beside him.

"I'm afraid that will likely be true, Minerva. Each and every child in the world would one day know his name." Albus Dumbledore said with a sigh. He kept the small crib on the porch of No. 4.

"I can just wish, and I truly wish that you be happy. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

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_-typedragon33/prongsreader33