A/N: Hey y'allz! Okay, I own NOTHING but plot and maybe a few characters here or there. I DEFINITELY don't own Harry Potter or The Last Apprentice series. If I did, you could be DAMN sure that The Deathly Hallows would have ended WAY different. I don't think I could write good enough to fix the Last Apprentice Series, though. That author is a GENIOUS. Anyways, R&R PLZ!!

Prologue

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The residents of Privet Drive, in Surry England were all curious about their newest neighbor. She was a middle-aged woman with curly black hair, sad dark eyes, and an aura that made people automatically feel like children. She also had an interesting accent, but none of them could place it. It was…Exotic. Enthralling, even.

This woman, though, never spoke to anyone. She lived alone in her house, number five, and tended an herb garden. She also had two sisters' who no one ever saw, but who apparently visited every three days to check on her.

This woman, whose name no one knew, was the main topic of all the busy-bodies gossip. Especially that of one Mrs. Petunia Dursley, who lived across the street in number Four. The Dursleys are a nice, normal family of two. Petunia is a tall, thin woman who loves spying and showing off to the neighbors.

Vernon Dursley, her husband, is a short, fat blond man with a bushy mustache and an anger problem, who works at a Drill company called Gunning's. He loves his wife and, most importantly, appearing normal in front of others. He was also a drunk, but he had a good reason, which we shall explain in a moment…

There is one more member of the Dursley family, though. One that hardly anyone knew about. His name is Harry Potter, and he's Petunia's nephew from her sister, Lily. Harry is a too-small, too-thin, too-pale ten-year-old, with unruly raven hair, bright-nearly-glowing-green eyes, round glasses, and a red lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Harry was the pack-mule of the Dursley family, though. He lived in the cupboard under the stairs with the spiders, and cooked all the meals and did all the chores.

Harry had lived with the Dursleys since he was one-and-a-half years old. That was when his parents were both killed. His relatives told him it was from a car-crash when his parents were driving drunk, but he didn't believe them. He had had dreams about his parents, and a man with red eyes, and then there'd be a bright flash of green before he work up with a pain in his scar. They'd let him know early one that he was a Freak, a Monster. A Murderer and a Whore. He didn't really understand how he was the last one, but he could guess at the others.

He was a Freak, because he could make things happen that no one else could. It was natural, a part of him, his Magic. Oh, he knew he had Magic. How else could he explain how he'd grown back his hair when his aunt had all but shaved it? Or how he healed so well after his uncles 'Punishments'?

He was a Monster, because he could turn into any animal he wanted to, and could talk to snakes and birds. He preferred snakes, but birds could be interesting too. They were very good at spying.

He was a Murderer, though that was not really his fault. Not totally, at least. You see, there had been one more Dursley. Petunia and Vernon's only son, Dudley. Dudley had been a bully, a mini Vernon, and could outweigh a baby whale. His favorite pass-time had been Harry-Hunting, which meant he and his friends would chase Harry around and beat him up.

One day, though, he had gone too far. Harry had a bird-friend named Talon, who was a beautiful black bird. Dudley had gotten a sling-shot from one of his little raids that he and his buddies did, where they beat up random kids and stole their stuff. Well, Dudley could really aim that thing, and he killed Talon with a rock to the head. Harry's Magic had reacted to his horror, anger, and grief. Dudley had been picked up and thrown in front of a moving diesel truck.

His aunt and uncle had tried to get rid of him. They'd beaten him to within an inch of his life, and left him in an alley in the London slums. Someone had found him and returned him, telling the Dursleys that they had to keep him in the house and let him live there, no matter what. Harry really hated that old man, with his long white beard and creepy, twinkling eyes. He smelled like lemon drops, which had always made Harry nauseous for some reason.

Harry, at the moment, was mowing the lawn before his uncle got home. His aunt was passed out on the couch thanks to her sedatives, given to her by the grief doctors who said she'd need them to fight her depression. Harry thought they made her worse, because when she passed out, she dreamed of the day Dudley had died, over and over again.

Harry hadn't meant to kill his cousin! It wasn't his fault that his Magic reacted so strongly to his emotions. He had absolutely no training, what-so-ever, and with his aunt and uncle, he doubted he'd ever get it.

Harry sighed as he finished mowing the lawn, the summer heat making his too-large clothes stick to him uncomfortably. He wanted to take off his shirt, but then people would see the scars. He didn't mind the whipping and stabbing scars. It was the words burned and carved into his skin that people tended to freak out about. Freak, Monster, Murderer, Whore. Those words were a reoccurring factor in his life.

He looked up at the setting sun, knowing his uncle wouldn't be home for a few hours. He looked around warily, but no one was around, everybody tucked away inside their air conditioned homes. With a deep breath, he let his Magic fill him, lapping underneath his skin. With a thought, his body changed, morphed.

His small body shrunk even more. His skin became pattered with feathered designs and his eyes moved back. Soon, a small, pitch-black owl sat where a boy once stood. With a soft coo, Harry-the-Owl lifted his wings and flung himself into the sky, enjoying the breeze he found there.

He flew for an hour, going all the way to London, where he shifted back and got some food. He ate swiftly, turning once more into an owl and flying home quickly. He still had chores, after all, but he also needed the food his relatives refused to provide. As he neared Privet Drive, two large shadows converged on him, flying over his form. He moved on instinct, lunging to the left and out of reach as a pair of clawed, yet human-like, hands tried to grab him.

There were two woman flying near him, with huge, black-feathered wings. They had snake-like faces, and nasty looking claws. They hissed at him, a snake-like sound of hunger that had no meaning or words. Harry hissed right back at them, his green eyes annoyed. You'd have thought he'd be afraid, but when you'd been pushed to Death's doorway by your own family nearly every night for ten years, the prospect of it just lost its meaning.

The flying creatures tried to catch him for a while, making him swerve and dodge, diving in close when they lunged far. He was careful not to attack them, though, uncertain if their blood would harm him as much as their claws. He knew a snake who had a magical mother, whose blood was like an acid. Watching a predator melt when it gave the snake a small cut was morbidly fascinating, but not something he wanted to witness first-hand.

He saw Privet Drive. Saw his uncle pull into the driveway and stumble out, drunk. That one moment of distraction was enough for one of the creatures to hit him, not doing too much damage. His left wing went numb, which made him swerve and start to fall, away from number Four and into the back yard of number Five.

Hissing in pain and slightly dazed, Harry quickly transformed back, pushing his Magic into his damaged arm. The two creatures landed near him, hissing at him. He scowled, holding his slowly healing arm close and watching warily.

"You know, you didn't have to hit me so hard," He told them, annoyed. "But then again, I've been hit harder." He looked down at his arm, flexing his fingers. All that was left was a few small bruises, which he left alone. Instead, he focused his Magic on defense, watching the creatures as they closed in.

"Interesting child, don't you agree Sister?" the one on the right asked, her bluer eyes watching Harry intensely.

"Oh, yes, Sister, I agree. A shape-shifter! This is a first." The green eyed one on the left said as they moved slightly apart in a silent shuffle. Harry knew that it hid their true speed, though. He knew snakes who moved slow that could strike in a blur at any moment.

"If you're just going to talk about me," Harry hissed at them, startling them into stopping. "Than can you both stop trying to eat me? It's very tedious when I have to not only worry about how I'm going to explain it to my uncle about why I wasn't home, but also have to worry about to flying snake women eating me." They stared at him, and he heard someone laugh behind him. He turned his head so he could still se the two creatures out of the corner of his eye, as well as the new person.

It was the woman who owned number Five. She was sitting there in a long dark blue gown, on a rocking chair on the back porch. She must have been there for a while, Harry decided, watching this new threat carefully. The woman smiled at him, her eyes amused and warm, but Harry also noticed the sadness and age in them. As if she'd lived for a very long time and had seen many loved ones die. She said something in a different language, and the two creatures answered back. Harry let out a soft sigh of irritation, a frown marring his pale face.

"Excuse me, ladies, but as much as I do so enjoy standing here between a Rock and a Hard place, I believe I need to go home," He finally said; the creatures snapped their serpentine eyes to him curiously, their wings twitching slightly. The woman in the rocking chair smiled at him.

"You remind me of one of my sons," she said, that accent making her voice soothing and nice to hear. "He was my first son of seven, but he was impatient and stubborn as a mule. You also remind me of my youngest, who was polite and powerful. The combination is…Interesting." Harry looked at her, wondering why she was telling him this.

"Um, okay? But I'm not being impatient, I'm being rational. I have to be home in about fifteen seconds or else my uncle will be displeased." The woman tilted her head to the side, something entering her dark eyes for a moment, before disappearing. Harry realized with a start that she knew what he meant when he said Vernon would be displeased. It made him rethink his opinion of her being gentle. What he'd seen had been far from gentle. Hell, it had been far from human.

"What is your name, lad?" The woman asked calmly, ignoring what he'd said, apparently.

"Harry Potter," He answered warily, knowing names had power. She smiled at him, that hint of sadness leaking through.

"You can call me Mam, Harry dear. Tell me, is there anything here you would ever come back for? If you had the chance to leave and never come back, no matter what, would you take it?" Harry stared at her for a few seconds, thinking over his answer very carefully.

"I think I would rather be in a place where people were killed by monsters every day, then live with the ones across the street," he answered slowly. "The only thing I would regret, is leaving my animal friend. But they will forget, as they always do. It's their nature to forget those who disappear." Mam nodded slowly, smiling sadly once more.

"Would you like to leave here, then?" She asked softly; Harry nodded firmly. Mam nodded and stood, walking down the porch steps to stand in front of him. "My sisters are intrigued by you, young Harry," she said softly; Harry glanced at the two creatures warily.

"What are they?" He asked bluntly, turning his eyes back to Mam. "I don't mean to offend," he added honestly; Mam just smiled.

"They are feral lamia witches," she told him calmly. "I myself am a lamia witch, only I am a benevolent, and they are not. Do you know what that means?" Harry nodded.

"Good witch, bad witches, easy enough to understand," he said calmly, shrugging. He was way ahead of his class, a genius by all accounts. He just didn't show it off. Mam nodded, pleased.

"You will learn much about witches and worse where I shall send you. Harry stared at her for a moment.

"Where would that be, exactly?" He asked cautiously; Mam smiled slightly.

"To the Country. Back in time, where my children still live and much evil plagues the world, with very few to fight it." Harry stared at her for a few moments.

"Okay," he said simply. "When do I leave?" Mam smiled sadly, handed him an envelope with some other language written on the front.

"Now," was all she murmured before darkness ate his vision and the world around him gave a jerk, and, as suddenly as it had happened, Harry Potter was gone.

A/N: Whooo-Hoo Read and Review!!! …Hey, I rhymed!! XP