Author's Note: (read the following in a deep, prophetic voice) This glorious day a story, of fanfictic fashion, shall be born-ith!
Yeah, even for me, that was weird as hell.
Deal with it!
Anyway, on with the story.
Young Harry Potter ended up a little differently from how it was expected. The world is about to be turned upside down.
Chapter One
The Guest's Confusion and the Lord's Return
It was hot.
Unbearably so.
Sweating was a given on a day like this, when the birds dared not fly lest their wings burst into flame from the pounding heat of the accursed thing called the Sun.
But a young Harry Potter was, at that right moment, thinking that if he were a bird he'd fly up and away and take the damn chance with the unholy Sun. He would at the very least be free of the Dursleys.
"Potter! Potter get inside this instant!" The incessant shrill voice of his Aunt Petunia called from the back door. He had been weeding the area around the shed under her demand, so why would she be calling him back in? She never gave him breaks. There was also something- off in her voice.
It wasn't the same harsh tone- still harsh- but not as much as expected from the likes of her, and she called him by his name. His last name, sure, but still his name. Was Vernon home earlier, and so she was displaying a facade of kindness until he came inside and the walrus of a man beat him senseless? Harry nearly shuddered at that.
Nonetheless he stood, brushed his hands off on his dirt-smeared pants, and walked into the house with head held tall. As soon as he made it in Petunia yanked him aside.
"We have a guest," she whispered furiously. Harry didn't see what this had to do with him. "A man is here to tell you about his school," she continued looking almost pained, "and you need to look presentable." Harry was about to open his mouth and say how he didn't have anything presentable, but his Aunt swiftly plowed on. "I thought this day might come, and there is an outfit waiting in the laundry room. Be quick about it!" She hissed at him impatiently.
Harry was dumbfounded, Petunia bought him something. This person has to be very important, and from the way his Aunt Petunia talked she knew either about this school, that man, or both.
Harry narrowed his eyes shrewdly. Who was he going to be today?
Poor orphan boy, who misses his parents and mopes constantly?
Spoiled prat, Dudley style?
The Cryer?
The Smiles-Too-Freaking-Much?
The Airy-headed one?
The Sophisticated, I'm-Above-You-All-And-You-Will-Soon-Realize-It?
The Scared one?
The Scary one?
The Too-Wise-For-His-Years?
Or...the Masked? The one who felt and expressed nothing?
Harry was particularly proud of the last one. He debated in the laundry room what to go with as he changed (Petunia's clothing for him wasn't half-bad, if a bit mature for his age group). As he put on the dark jeans, that looked a little business-like, and the black button-up shirt, he chose to combine The Sophisticated with The Masked. To be eerily impossible to read and giving off the vibe that made anyone (or at least as far as Harry had tested it) feel inferior would be splendid fun.
Yes, Harry James Potter found scaring and disturbing people fun. Not always, just sometimes.
Like today.
Spinning around in the long laundry room mirror, Harry winked at his double before walking out.
It was a walk that was ethereal, as if he were floating instead of using his two feet. Mind you, this was without the concealing nature of wizarding robes, so feel free to be impressed. He entered the living room and calculating eyed the strange man in front of him, that seemed to be doing the same right back. He stood to an impressive height (Harry would guess about six feet).
"Mr. Potter, I presume? I am a part of the staff at Hogwarts School of WitchCraft and Wizardry. I'm here to oversee your shopping."
It took all of Harry's composure to not react to that, to maintain a cold, blank look.
"Would you fancy some tea?" He said, perching on the couch seat elegantly. "It seems we have quite a lot to discuss, you and I." The strange man eyed Harry in an uncomprehensible way.
"And why is that?" The staff member from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry asked. Harry smiled.
It was condescending.
It was pitying.
It was deceiving.
It was layered so that he was sure few would even see past the simple action of a child smiling.
And it was eerily familiar to one Severus Snape. So, as a nervous, flitting Petunia poured tea into cups, the dour man tried to place where he had seen that truthful lying smile before.
All the while, a motionless, emotionless Harry watched on like a predator circling the skies over its prey below.
Wizardry, he thought. Oh, Petunia, how we've kept secrets.
He went back to watching the stranger try and decipher that which was Harry. Well, he decided, if people can keep their secrets- then I'll keep mine.
Even when I tear yours out from your mouths you'll never penetrate that which is my mind, my fortress, my secrets, he thought viciously- simultaneously taking a gentle sip from the chamomile tea.
Somewhere in the dark of Deutschland Alley, sat a pair of old companions.
"Would you fancy some tea?" Said the taller man, not knowing that he was echoing the words of another, far away."It seems we have quite a lot to discuss, you and I."
The second bowed his head slightly, and the faint light of the street lamp lit upon his silvery hair. "Yes, m'lord. Yes, m'lord, we certainly do." The silvery head rose now, and grey eyes met sanguine ones. He held out a tentative arm and said, "But perhaps we would enjoy such a lengthy converse to take place in more comfortable a surrounding?" The Lord let a small lifting of the corners of his mouth answer the man.
So with a soft pop, the old companions vanished, and reappeared in a lavish sitting room.
The man with the shining hair sat gracefully into an armchair.
"Welcome back, m'lord, to Malfoy Manor." The crimson eyes of the Dark Lord met the ones of Lucius Malfoy once more.
"I am glad to be back, Lucius. So very glad indeed.
Now, shall we be having that tea?"
Back in the drab living room of number four Privet Drive, someone felt a slight twinge in an old scar.
But he ignored it, and moved on.
Probably just a figment of his imagination, right?
Author's Note: So, in this one Harry's gonna be independent, powerful, and a bit cruel. He'll have a lot of struggles with doing what is right and what he wants to do. Darkish Harry, I guess.