Synopsis: When the paths of an amortal and immortal cross, one life is changed forever. Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, is discovered by an amortal spirit, who sends him to another world to escape the abuse of the Dursleys and begin a new life in Fiore.

Warnings: Child abuse, mentions of rape

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Fairy Tail, nor any recognisable characters, arcs, or places.

This is my first fanfiction, so please go just a little bit easy on me comment wise.

Chapter One: Ghosts

Harry James Potter of Number 4 Privet Drive was an abnormal child in what was supposed to be a very normal home.

For starters, he was the famous Boy-Who-Lived, a hero in the wizarding world who had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort at only fifteen months old. He was also in possession of the largest and most developed magical core in existence. He had infinite power, and was, as such, an immortal, the true master of death, the last Peverel.

And, at six years of age, he lived with the Dursley family.

The Dursley family was composed of three people: Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle by marriage and director of Grunnings Drills, he was against all abnormalities such as wizardry; Petunia Dursley (Née Evans), the muggle sister of Lily Potter (Née Evans), Harry's maternal aunt, and a housewife, though a particularly terrible one at that; and finally, Dudley Dursley, an extremely overweight child, also six years old, Harry's cousin, a bully.

And all of the three shared a common hate: that of Harry James Potter.

And they took this out on Harry as often as they could, making him a slave to them in the most literal of senses, beating him bloody when he could not complete his work, and worst of all, whoring him out to any who wished to buy an evening with the boy for a hefty price.

All this had started on November 1st, 1981, when Harry first came to the Dursleys. By then he was found by them on their porch, he was hypothermic.

Petunia had taken the child inside without reading the letter with him and wrapped him in several warm blankets, fussing over the child, who had smiled up at her happily despite the trauma he had faced the previous night.

Then, the letter was read.

The boy was thrown into the cupboard under the stairs with nothing more than the outfit and blanket he had come with.

The cupboard door remained shut for two days.

On the third day, Harry, so overheated in the stuffy cupboard and red in the face from screaming for his parents or the nice woman who had warmed him up, had fallen into an hyperthermic fit, and it was only then was the cupboard opened so the infant wouldn't die.

From then on, Harry's life had been a living hell.

At current, he was lying on the floor of his cupboard, naked, violent shivers wracking his small body. Tonight, another one of Vernon's 'friends' had come over to visit him. Harry didn't like these visits or understand their purpose.

The men would do things to him, touch him, and hurt him in ways he wouldn't understand for years to come. They'd pet him and call him a good boy as they shoved something into his bottom until it bled and they were spent. At least after these visits, Uncle Vernon would let him rest and even give him some food. Sometimes even clothes. Harry liked clothes, they made him warm and he felt normal, of only for a while. But he wasn't normal, not at all, he was a no good freak, and freaks didn't deserve clothes.

Harry looked up at the wall, at the abundance of scrawled words and sums, his own writings where he had taught himself to read and write, add and subtract, do all sorts of mathematics and literacy. His mind would supply everything he needed somehow.

Sometimes he wondered where he got all this information from, but he could never come up with a logical answer.

He had never been to school, so it obviously wasn't from there the learning came from.

Harry dipped his finger in the blood he'd collected into a small pot, which he used as an inkwell, and began to work on the algebra formulae he'd been completing before the visit.

2(a+8)=20

He knew he had to solve the equation, he knew how to do it also, though was unaware this knowledge was far beyond what he should know.

2a+16=20

20-16=4

4/2=2

a=2

He nodded to himself, looking at the equation.

He tirelessly solved each equation his mind supplied, wincing when his sore body was jostled in the process.

At least he wouldn't have to do any chores the following day, right?

Now, many mortals live under the common misconception that spirits are the souls of the deceased, coming in both visible and invisible forms, only this and nothing more. Then again, most mortals also believe that others in their species have more or less worth determined by a concept they call 'Money' and how much of it a person owns.

Ridiculous.

Spirits are nothing more than simple energy. They are amortal, of course, having never been born or created, simply existing, travelling between worlds and dimensions listlessly, their existence seemingly meaningless.

But of course, they did have a meaning for existence, otherwise, they would cease to exist.

One particular spirit, going by the alias of Aasim, a name the spirit had a surprisingly little memory of choosing, given spirits had photographic memories, was wandering through Earth 238 when it stumbled across an anomaly.

Aasim had a simple job; they were to find anomalies such as children with far too much power and send them to another realm to be taught a different way to channel their powers so their powers would manifest in two ways and thus channel the power in a more efficient way. Simple enough, as there were few children with such power, and those with that much power often didn't live past the age of three due to assassination attempts.

The anomaly Aasim was looking at was a wizard named Harry Potter. Aasim frowned.

Upon the great Powers, the spirit begged to be wrong, to not have to take the prophesized child of the Earth 238 wizarding world from Earth 238, and that this child was not abused as he seemed to be.

But Aasim did have to take Harry Potter from Earth 238 and Harry Potter was being abused.

Wonderful.

Aasim sighed, slowly advancing on the child to try not to startle him, hoping to be wrong, begging again to the great Powers that the child was not as permanently scared as he seemed...

"Child..." Aasim whispered, appearing in a corporeal form, that of a lion often used by a friend, the guardian of another realm, so the child would not be as fearful as he would be if the spirit appeared in a human form.

The boy flinched and looked up at him, mouth opening in a silent scream of fear, though not a word escaped the damaged child. Aasim sighed. The spirit sighed deeply and began to explain.

"Do not be afraid, my child, I am here to help. You do not belong here, not in this hellhole, not in this realm." The lion spoke softly, lying next to the boy in the small cupboard and nudging him gently with his nose. "Your power and intelligence are far greater than that of this pitiful realm. I can help you, send you far away from here, to a place where you can grow and channel your power, where you can heal and will be safer. If you do not agree I can send you elsewhere in this realm, so you will at least be safe from harm."

Harry looked so tempted, so desperate to say yes, but pointed at the ceiling, trying to ask what would happen to his aunt and uncle.

"Those monsters will get what is coming to them in due time, and shall not be able to find you, nobody on this Earth will, for they will not be in the world to which you are sent. Do you accept?"

Harry nodded hurriedly, looking relieved.

"You must speak, young one, or your choice may not be acknowledged," Aasim said a smile on the lion's face.

Harry looked startled and looked down once more. It took a moment for Aasim to realise what he was trying to communicate.

The boy was mute.

Aasim felt a stab of grief and nuzzled Harry gently.

"Do not worry, my child, merely write the words you wish to speak on your wall of writings." The lion advised, making an inkpot appear, knowing how the boy wrote.

So, with a grin, Harry dipped his finger in the golden ink and scrawled in his messy handwriting, 'Please take me away from here!'

With a bow of its mighty head, Aasim the lion stood up. "Climb upon my back, and we shall travel to your new home."

There were not many Aasim would trust with the precious human he was carrying to Fiore. Zirconis would probably eat the poor child, Metalicana, Igneel, Belserion, Weisslogia, Skiadrum, and Grandeeny had already trained their slayers, and the spirit had little trust for the humans of the realm.

Sighing, Aasim went to the first available person the spirit could think of.

"I cannot find anybody else, do not be mad, old friend." Aasim sighed, gently moving the now unconscious child to lay at the feet of the waking Beast.

"Give it to Leo." It merely grunted. "He goes by Loke now. He's at that weird wizard place you want the kid to go to."

Aasim glared.

"You know I cannot leave him with Leo. He will not teach the child what he needs to know." The lion growled.

"That is not of my concern." The Beast said, looking up at his friend.

"It is now. Harry Potter is your responsibility now, Beast." Aasim said stubbornly.

The Beast's attention was caught and he looked appraisingly at the child and sniffed at him with his furry snout.

"Fine, I will take him. But only for two years." The Beast said with a nod, gently resting a large clawed paw over the sleeping boy protectively, healing as many of the physical wounds as he could.

"His vocal chords cannot be fixed by my magic." He observed, frowning.

"Nor mine." Aasim sighed.

The Beast grinned a vicious grin.

"He shall be even more powerful than I thought. He will be unbeatable, for no Mage or creature will know what spell he is performing until it has hit them, unlike those silly Mages who scream their spells."

Aasim smiled in relief. The Beast would be a good trainer for Harry.

Over the next two years, to his word, The Beast, later known to Harry as Malum (or playfully as Mother when he was being particularly overprotective), taught Harry Beast Slayer Magic and some of the Lost Magics, remembering how to use them from before Mages had forgotten them.

He also taught Harry to the powers of his own world, all wandless and wordlessly, as well as simple telepathy to communicate with others and sign language. Harry had taught himself the language of Fiore himself.

So, just after Harry turned eight, when Malum had taught Harry all he could, he sent him off to join Fairy Tail, as Aasim had advised him to do.

So, with the help of his new powers, travelled to Galuna Island, where he could feel his magic was needed.