Shadow Mage
Chapter 1: Enshrouded in Darkness
Disclaimer: I don't own HP, except for the one printer I had a couple years ago.
Rated Mature because it speaks of dark themes….
A young boy screamed as the door was slammed in his face, jolting backwards so as to avoid the impact. The darkness crept over him, as the door was closed on any semblance of light that could possibly have penetrated into his unlikely abode. He had lost all sense of sight. All around him, there was naught but gloom.
Today was his eighth birthday, and he noticed how for his caretakers, this fact had held no particular significance. Rather, for his aunt and uncle, his family, this fact only intensified their hatred for him and his unnatural freakiness, condemning him to what felt like an eternity of hell immediately after he returned from school.
Even at school, he wasn't safe. His uncle's son, who was just as massive as he was, spared no effort in reminding him of his place at the bottom of the food chain. Harry's sole purpose in life was to entertain and amuse Dudley Dursley and serve his family. His sole purpose in life was to suffer, to atone for his own freakishness, and for the sins of his own freakish father. At school, Harry Hunting had been the game Dudley and his friends would enjoy during recess, continuing on even after school until the lot returned home, where, after having completed his chores, the boy would then be stuffed into the cupboard under the stairs for the remainder of the day and night, making his home among the creepy crawlies that inhabited the shadows.
The teachers would sometimes worry after him and his reserved attitude, seeing much potential in him, but time after time facing disappointment at his underperformance. Soon, though, those sentiments had faded, undoubtedly aided by consistent reassurances by his 'family' that he was 'special', special in the sense of retarded. Soon, his lack of results became the norm, and the famed 'Harry Hunting' that teachers had been so worried about too blended in, after all, how else would his responsible elder cousin keep a leash on him and his freakishness.
Living the majority of his life in darkness, Harry no longer feared the dark. Rather, it gave him a sense of refuge. After all, once Harry entered his cupboard, the Dursleys would begin to pretend he no longer existed. Tuning their ears out to any sound of his squirming about in the congested space he resided in. Even if they felt the need to punish him, they would pull him out and then execute whatever judgment they ordained as just. As such, the dark embrace was the only place he was safe. The only refuge he had from the torture that was life.
Just so, it was the dark that had first offered him protection. That had been his only respite from the otherwise torturous world. It had been the shadows that had been his constant companion. So much so that when he was cornered, having run for over half an hour on end, and that day's quota of Harry Hunting seemed to be drawing to a close and he sought escape by turning into a dark alley, something unexpected happened. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his face in the shade of a water tank on the roof of the school building. He knew not then what had happened, but what he did know, was peace, security and escape. Tired beyond belief, Harry welcomed the shadow, giving himself up to its trustworthy embrace.
That was the first time. After experiencing similar occurrences several times over the course of a couple months, Harry grew to recognize it as the shadows watching over him.
However, not fearing the dark did not necessitate a lack of fear for the creatures that that had made it their home. In the beginning, Harry would cry for hours in fright as spiders crawled over his body, leaving spots and bruises from where they had stung him, or where he had attempted to squash them by ramming his arms against the walls and floor. As time passed, he grew to ignore them, and they began to ignore him. Until today, that is.
Today, he had been treated worse than usual, it being his birthday after all. His family would barely allow him to eat anything but the leftovers on the dishes, let alone do something special for his birthday. Upon returning home, his uncle had decided to discipline him for causing trouble for his cousin (read evading him all day and not offering his body for the baby killer whale to wail upon), and thus, taking out his belt, continued to lash him until the Dursley himself fell down, exhausted.
In all this time, Harry had refused to let a sound out of his mouth, not a grunt, a moan, nothing. His endurance in the face of punishment had been built up from a very young age, trumping that of most grown men. As the belt came down for the last time, he felt a kick to his abdomen, sending him skidding across the marble floor. Not even deeming it sufficient to leave him there sprawled on the hard floor, his uncle took hold of his ankle and dragged him to where he belonged, to his room (read cupboard). Once there, he slammed the door shut, leaving him to either bleed out by the morning, or if he was unlucky, for his wounds to heal and prepare for the next ordeal.
As he lay there, bruised and bloodied, Harry knew that he had had enough. His 'family' had lost any and all rights to that title since the week they had taken him in. In fact it was a wonder he had survived at all. But now, he would take no more. He hated them. He hated the Dursleys with all his heart (whatever was left of it). As he thought of all that they had done over the past seven years to torment him to the extent none had the right to do, a burning rage started to bubble up from within him. A will to make them pay. A will to dominate. A will to overpower. A will to destroy. A will to engulf them all in the shroud of shadow!
A rush of power ran through him… concentrating itself in his chest, drawing strength from the darkness that encompassed him on all sides, pooling together inside of him. For all of a minute, magic welled up in his chest until his core had been filled up to the brim, and then, it all exploded. Magic spilled out of his body in such quantities that any sensor worth his salt present in the county would immediately notice and half of the wizards in the Ministry's auror department would flock to see what was up with the muggle neighborhood that had just lit up like a beacon to any magic sensitive being in the United Kingdom.
However, it was only one sensor in an isolated castle far away in Scotland that registered the magical output.
An old man sporting a long white beard, which had been tied into a pony tail, dressed in the most eccentric blue colored clothing one could imagine and wearing a set of his trademark half-moon spectacles hurried to his office up the spiral staircase past the stone gargoyle that stood guard outside. His alerts had been ringing quite violently for the past several minutes while he had been relaxing over a cup of tea with his half-giant of a gamekeeper.
As he entered the office, his surveillance equipment seemed to have gone through an upheaval. The sensor seemed to have been fried, with the graphical monitor screen showing unbelievably unstable values that could have been nothing but bogus data. Worried, he called on Fawkes, who flashed into his office in a storm of fire, and teleported him to a calm and peaceful neighborhood in Surrey. Thank goodness his wards had ensured that no signals reached outside the area except to his own sensors.
As he knocked on the door of Number 4, Privet Drive, a fat man emerged. Seeing his newest visitor, a frown appeared on his forehead.
"What do you want? We want to have nothing to do with your freakishness here!"
'I don't the time to deal with these muggles and their idiocy…'
Inconspicuously waving his wand at the man, he assumed a dazed look on his face, and seemed to nod, as if he understood, and gestured for the old man to enter.
Following him inside, 'Show me the boy…' He intoned, with a sense of urgency.
The man led his confunder to the cupboard under the stairs, and then just stood there, gazing off into empty space. Opening the door from the outside after having unlatched it from the wall, he found a young boy sleeping inside, surrounded by a host of spiders and the like. Sensing for his magical core and any abnormal magic it contained, he found nothing. In fact, it was mediocre. He had expected the 'boy-who-lived' to have had a magical core that was above average in size. He had expected him to have been special. That's why he had undertaken all the precautions he had set up. But it seemed, that they were unnecessary. Harry's core was as small as a seven year old's, and that was saying something, given that one's magical core grew in leaps and bounds in the eighth year, until it stabilized at eleven, then growing gradually until it once more jumped drastically at the age of magical majority at seventeen. It would then continue to grow, slowly, but indefinitely.
Returning to the present, Albus Dumbledore didn't know what to think. It seemed his surveillance equipment had malfunctioned. The boy's magical core contained enough magical energy for him to be a wizard, though it was nothing out of the ordinary. That meant that things were going just according to plan. Though, there did seem to be some residual magic in the area. 'Must have done some accidental magic lately. Shows how his core is still in the development stage.' With a satisfied expression, Albus merely shut the door to the cupboard behind him, walking out the door.
'At least one thing is going right. The Dursleys have kept the boy just as I had predicted they would. Undernourished, weak and emaciated. Perfect for the role he must play when the time comes.'
Meanwhile, the magical energy that had been released earlier began to coalesce back into shape as it gathered around the sleeping harry, filling his core once more. Filling it further and fuller than it had ever done. The creatures of the dark knew something had happened. They knew that a monumental event had occurred. And they were ready. Had the age old headmaster arrived any time later, he would have been witness to the magic that now filled the boy, breaking all limits. Had he come earlier, the residual magic that permeated the air would have warned him of the events that would unfold in the times to come. But the shadows were watching.
The boy that had suffered for three fourths of a decade would soon rise to power. The boy who had been oppressed would soon return the favor, and adopt the visage of a demon to enact and deliver divine punishment. He would show the world his true face and let them face the force of his fury and wrath.
As Harry Potter opened his eyes, the world shivered. A Shadow Mage had been born!
AN:
Updates will probably be kinda slow, cuz I also have my other story together with college, a job, football/soccer and table tennis/ping pong. And yes I have life too!
If you like dark stories, you might want to check out my Naruto story, called vengeful sage.
