Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Inuyasha, or any other source material I may use.
Key: "Hello" Normal speaking
"Welcome to Beauxbatons" French or another language.
'I wonder.' Thinking
"Why Parseltounge is considered evil." Parseltounge
Fire, ash, sulfur, smells that he didn't need to smell. His family, his life, was in danger. Grave, grave danger…
With a howl, a man with long silver hair and silver robes charged… For Lily, his Lily, he would die. He finally understood what his father felt, so long ago, when he died to save a human woman, and their child, the mans brother. Claws tore the flesh of the humans in the black robes, until a shrill laugh pierced the sky, and a sickly green beam struck him in the back…Why? Why did they attack them? Did they see that he was weak? With a final gasp, Sesshomaru Taisho died in the moonlight.
Bellatrix Lestrange laughed into the night. Her master was gone, killed by his own curse, but she knew that he would be back. In the meantime, she managed to exterminate a major pain in her master's side. Yes this was the dawn of a new era…
Harry Potter knew nothing but misery in 10 Years of his life. Each day he was starved, slandered, and occasionally beaten. Everything always went to his cousin Dudley, always the fat pig.
Harry, though he didn't know it, was unnatural. He wasn't even supposed to exist! He was the offspring of two races that vowed to avoid each other. He remained blissfully unaware… until his 10th birthday.
Today was the day that his mother's race, a very magically powerful race of elves, known as High Elves, reached magical maturity, breaking all the rules of wizards and witches. Today the barriers on his abilities and his race would violently shatter from his expanding and stabilizing core.
Harry was truly named Harold James Taisho. His mother, in a bid to hide the fact that she loved a demon, married James Potter and took up his last name. Sesshomaru, fully aware of prejudices, reluctantly agreed.
All at once the charms, wards, and barriers preventing his magical power and racial abilities to become apparent shattered. All at once, Harry screamed, and passed out into blissful unconsciousness.
--
It was all a normal morning at Privet Drive, with one exception.
A shrill scream alerted Vernon and Dudley, that something was wrong, horribly wrong. The voice was undoubtedly Petunia Dursley. As one the two rushed to where she was standing, in front of the cupboard.
Vernon, automatically assuming the boy had something " BOY WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" He roared, but Petunia spoke up at that time.
"He's…gone…"
Immediately Dudley jumped up and whooped and Vernon smirked. " It's about time!"
Petunia however, was ashen white, and immediately screamed at them both " HE WAS THE ONLY THING KEEPING ANY DARK WIZARDS BACK! NOW THAT HE'S GONE ANY DARK WIZARD CAN KILL US!"
At those words, both Dudley and Vernon paled. They were in for some serious trouble…
Harry was confused. The last thing he remembered was passing out from an immense pain. Where was he? What happened? He groggily sat up and let his vision adjust…
Then he gasped in surprise. He was NOT in Privet Drive anymore. In fact he was in some sort of mansion, and looking out the window…was that the Eiffel Tower!? How the HELL did he end up in France?!
He looked at himself, and gaped. He had claws. CLAWS! He felt different, far superior to how he felt earlier. He resolved to find a mirror ASAP. He needed to know the extent of his new changes.
That was easy enough. Apparently the mansion he was in was home to some very distinguished people, who seemed to have mirrors galore. Harry had to admire the beauty of the place, but when he reached a mirror, he froze in shock. Gone was the scrawny black haired boy, malnourished and beaten. In his place was a tall aristocratic man. The man he should have been. He was tall for his age, at 5'7". He had hair that came down to his shoulders; the color was a mixture of silver and blond. He had two magenta stripes marking each cheek, and the lightning bolt scar was barely visible. His canines had turned into fangs, and his ears were tapered to a point like an elf's. He wasn't muscular, but his figure was lithe.
It was then that he noticed three things: One, he could see sharper than he even thought possible. Everything was in excruciating detail, everything was clear. Two: He tried to feel for his glasses only to find…they weren't there. His eyes were fixed! Three: His eyes weren't the only things sharpened. His sense of smell and his sense of hearing both were sharply increased.
He looked…noble, and far older than 10 years old. What had happened? He looked almost adult! And why had his hair changed color? It made no sense… Then he heard footsteps, echoing loudly in his ears.
Then a clearing of the throat startled Harry out of his reverie, and he whirled around quickly. There, standing in the doorway, was a rather tall man, standing at a good 4 inches taller than Harry, an impressive height. He had short, well kept blond hair, and he wore a rich maroon colored robe. He looked amused.
"Now that I have your attention and you are awake, could you explain how you ended up in an alleyway no less?" The man asked in a kindly yet hard tone.
Harry gulped to himself, he knew he had to be honest, after all this man had given him a place to stay hadn't he?
"I don't know sir. I remember feeling a lot of pain, a feeling of change, and an explosion of energy. Then it's black until I woke up here." His sentence had an unusual effect. The man's eyes widened then he began muttering to himself.
"What is your name and age?" He asked curiously, trying to hide his nervousness.
"Err. Harry Potter, Age 11. It happened on my eleventh birthday" At those words, the man did a good impression of a fish. At first the man was going to vehemently deny that, but then he noticed the scar, faded as it was, and he knew then it couldn't have been anyone else.
"This is… unique. Normally when one reaches Magical Maturity they are at least 16, rarely feel anything more than a pinprick, and do not spontaneously teleport. In addition, they do not change shape and build." Those words caused Harry to sputter. There was no such thing as magic right!? But then what else could it have been? If anything, magic certainly seemed to explain it.
"Err. Magical maturity sir?"
"Ah yes, my name is Jacques Delacour, call me Jacques. Magical maturity is when a wizards core stabilizes and finishes growing. Usually the shorter the time the stronger the magic, but never has it been earlier than 16, to the best of my knowledge…Harry would you kindly come along with me tomorrow to Gringotts, it's the wizarding bank, we can sort things out there. Oh and when did you learn French?" Jacques explained, though at the end was made from general curiosity. The reaction was not what he expected.
"We're speaking French? I thought we were speaking English…" Harry muttered while Jacques snickered a little
"That's interesting. Well you should get your rest for tomorrow. I expect we'll leave early." He was honest, he had never heard of a gift of languages. Harry nodded and muttered a good night, which Jacques returned, before Harry walked back to his room, stripped down a little, he hadn't realized that he was clothed in a maroon robe, and crawled into bed. Another question nagged his mind, why did they pick him up? Why not leave him in the alleyway? Surely there had to be something behind it. With these thoughts in mind, Harry drifted off to sleep, unaware of the changes tomorrow would bring into his life.
A/N: It didn't seem to come out as well as I wanted it but oh well, I can always rewrite it later, after I get some reviews on suggestions. This is my first fanfic, hope you enjoyed it. This is a Harry/Fleur/Tonks pairing. Next chapter will be the alley and the introduction to Beauxbatons (the only male! Yes I know it's been done before but still, not all that often. I wanted to try it myself.). The next chapter will be a huge timeskip to the Triwizard Tournament (he's actually a good year older in this fic, and fifth years can try out in the tornament IMF(In my fic)). I will have a couple flashbacks to earlier years. After the Tournament, well that's a secret.
I will not delusion myself by thinking myself a good writer, great writer, bad writer, horrible writer etc. I'm simply a writer, how good or bad I am depends on the person. I hope that with criticism I will be able to improve. I also have a habit of rereading chapters after a while and rewriting them (at least in any project I do. Up until now the only things I've written are for School, but none the less, I will likely rewrite this later on, if I think I can write it better.), so if you reread this chapter in a couple months from now, don't be surprised if it's rewritten. Also this is a fair deal shorter than I plan other chapters to be. Also I have little time to update, so updates will be sporadic That's all I have to say for now. Read and review!