Soulless Cheshire

I do not own Harry Potter or any characters associated therein.

This is the story of an original Harry Potter character. The story will run parallel to the original story-line with minor deviations in all years, major deviations beginning in 5th year.


Prologue

I don't have many memories the first few years of my life. What I do recall are the feelings I had; terror and panic dominated my earliest memories. Those feelings went away quickly, sucked away by the Dementors. I was born in Azkaban prison.

My mother was pregnant with me when she came to the Isle. She hid me for the first eight years of my life. If the guards ever happened to be passing she would cover me up and gag me with a shred of her filthy prison garment. I never had any clothes to myself, the gag was the only thing she ever gave me.

After the first two or three years I didn't feel anything anymore. My screams and sobs never helped, so I learned to conserve the energy. Dear old mum was never one to be overly compassionate. She never talked and I'm absolutely sure she was insane, at least from the time of my birth on. Despite all of this, I did learn one lesson from the dear old nag. You see, my mum was prone to uncontrollable fits at times, fits of insane laughter. I never understood laughter, but her smile was something I could mimic.

In my entire life I've never experienced happiness. Actually, the only emotions I've ever really felt are the terror and panic that I already referenced. My mother taught me to smile without feeling. At three years old I learned what a smile was. It was the only emotion I had ever seen, since I couldn't very well look at my own.

I began smiling all the time. Nothing big, mind you, just a slight grin that remained permanently glued to my face. Of course, I messed it up a bit; I never got the eyes quite right. I didn't have a mirror to practice with, and when I manipulated my mouth I didn't realize that the eyes were supposed to crinkle up at the corners too.

My smile was always a subtle one. One of those things you could see if you looked, but not something that drew the eye. Over the years I would notice that as things happened that benefited me, or if I successfully manipulated someone, my smile would broaden into a wide toothy grin. I never felt anything while I smiled, but that's the closest thing I've ever had to emotion.

Mum fed me until I was four, after that I started wasting away. If you walked by and my mum didn't notice you then you would have seen a little grinning skull in the background. My accidental magic was never all that strong and I never learned that it was supposed to be "accidental." I could always feel the bouts of magic coming on, as I starved to death the magic happened more often. Odd things began to occur, food was yanked away from my mother and other cells to sustain me. I started to understand the magic. I memorized the feeling of it and I taught myself to consciously pull food from other cells.

I began to apply my magic in more unique ways after I turned six. I learned to push and pull objects of any size. The Dementors were no longer an issue. They had stopped effecting me after I discarded my emotions. My magic was able to grow without being held back by their influence.

I'm not sure when my birthday really is, but I celebrate it on the day I left Azkaban. I was about eight and I had learned to crush stones under the pressure of my magic, I could levitate things indefinitely, and the best part of it was that I could do magic without any type of motion. Dear old mother was having one of her fits that day. The guards happened to choose that time to patrol our cell block.

As the guards approached, mum was cackling in insane mirth. It cut off abruptly when she realized the guards were on their way. Her eyes widened in a terrified sort of panic and she lunged for me. She grabbed me and threw me to the corner of the cell. The only thing that prevented me from getting some nasty gashes was my magic. I protected myself by using my magic to hold me an inch or two from the wall. I made the magic keep me in the air as I got my bearings. She was on me in an instant with my rag. She shoved it towards my mouth, but she slammed into the barrier of magic that I had erected to protect myself and she flew back with a shriek.

The guards rushed over at the commotion only to find an unconscious woman and malnourished child. They got me out pretty quickly after that, it was September 18th of the year 1988. Apparently there was a big fuss, but they kept me in a nice room away from the debates over what to do. No families really wanted to adopt a child basically raised in Azkaban. They sent me off to a muggle orphanage, I didn't really care. No matter how bad it was it couldn't be harder to survive there than in Azkaban.

The woman who greeted me was pretty nice, she introduced herself as Mrs. Watts. I could understand what they were saying, but I had never really tried to talk before. There had been no point in talking to my mum or our insane neighbors. I couldn't read either, but I learned quickly. The orphanage had books.

The kids were brats there. There was one group in particular that liked to go around and take what they wanted. They came up to me on my first day and tried to shake me down. I don't why they thought I had anything, it was pretty clear that I had nothing of importance in my possession. One of them knocked me down and spat on me. I just stayed on the ground smiling up at him. He tossed me a few more times, my smile was creepy enough to send him away.

I had learned from the men who brought me to the orphanage that I shouldn't use magic. Knowing that using magic overtly would be bad for me meant that I couldn't actively pursue revenge. At night, we all got cots in the biggest room. The place was a bit overburdened, so it was necessary to set up the cots. Only the older kids got their own rooms. The ones who had beaten me up earlier had already set up their cots when I came in for the night. They put my cot down between theirs and waited for Mrs. Watt to leave before taking my blanket and pillows.

I was cold that night, but my magic warmed me. As the other children fell asleep I turned slowly to face the kid who had pushed me down. It was cold, but I knew of something far colder. The Dementors of Azkaban could freeze a lake simply by passing over, plants shriveled and died at their presence.

The others were weak, slaves to their emotions, but if the Dementors had helped me then couldn't I help them? I knew what the Dementors felt like and I had magic. I thought back to the Dementors of Azkaban and began to imagine the feeling. Frost began to cover my cot and my smile started to widen. The frost spread to the cots around me, and the kids started to shiver. My teeth started showing in the middle of my smile. The kids began to shiver in their sleep. My grin was full now, my teeth glinted as I rolled back off of my side and stared at the ceiling. I fell asleep easily.

Five of the cots closest to me were found in the morning caked in frost, the blankets frozen to the sides of the children within them. I was frozen to my cot, but my magic had kept me comfortable. The others were still shivering in the morning. As the other kids got up they noticed the frost and ran for Mrs. Watt. She rushed in, but the others were unresponsive. They kept shivering, even as they were taken away by ambulance. I sat up with a crack that startled the other children and Mrs. Watt. My clothes were frozen too, as I rose they cracked to accommodate me. I stood easily and with a small grin I walk out of the room towards the kitchen, I was starving.

The other five were alive when they left, but I overheard the doctor tell Mrs. Watt that they were brain dead.

I never saw them again.


Hope you like this intro to my first story! The rest won't be in first person, this chapter is the only time you'll actually be inside the mind of the main character. I know I haven't used his name yet, but you'll get it in the next chapter. His family name won't be revealed until his sorting! (Of course its really not that much of a secret)

Harry will be a main character, but they won't develop as friends until the second year. My primary interest in this story lies in the fifth year, so the first three years will go pretty quickly. No part of my character is childlike, so it really doesn't make sense to have more than maybe 4 or 5 chapters devoted to his experiences in first year.

More time and chapters will be put into him as a fourth year and onward.

Oh, and YES he did suck out the souls of those boys. My dear little character has no idea what a soul is, he just thinks that the Dementors effect emotions. He doesn't understand the correlation between them and souls and he likely won't realize it until third year.

I wanted to explain the reason for my character being sent to a muggle orphanage. Basically, there are no magical orphanages. Purebloods generally keep to their own and any pureblood child would be tossed to the nearest relation as the blood would be considered too valuable to waste. Halfbloods and muggleborn really wouldn't warrant an orphanage being built, not to mention it would be opposed by the purebloods. In my mind, there would be no real need for magical orphanages, the only ones that would need an orphanage would be able to use the muggle ones. My character goes to a muggle orphanage because nobody wants a child from what is basically the Hell of the magical world.

He learned to speak by listening to the insane ramblings of the others in the cells and any conversations the guards may have had while making rounds. He CAN talk, he just has never done it before.

The next chapter will be a professor's visit and Diagon Alley. He'll be getting his wand and other school supplies.