Disclaimer: I am merely playing with other people's creations, I don't own the game/book/anime/tv-show I am borrowing from, nor am I making any money with this. I am writing for fun and practice, as fan-fiction to be shared with others if I feel like it.

Chapter 01

September 31st, Halloween 1981, Godric's Hollow

Lily Potter nee Evans had never trusted Dumbledore. She was not a true seer, but she did have a minor talent with divination in the form of premonitions. Those premonitions had saved both her and her husband several times when fighting against death eaters and Voldemort. Those same premonitions lead her to always wandlessly vanish any drink or food offered to her by the headmaster, as well as avoid looking the man in the eyes. Her will was strong, but he was known as a powerful wizard and seeing what fanatical loyalty he inspired, she was more than willing to bet her entire fortune the man was reinforcing such loyalty by potions or legilimency and obliviations.

Unfortunately by the time she became aware of just how dangerous the old man could be, her husband was already a fanatical Dumbledore's man, and she had little way to escape without leaving her husband behind, and taking her young son would have lead to a witch-hunt from Dumbledore, calling her dark and declaring her to be just trying to steal the Potter fortunes after James died in the war. Dumbledore would have portrayed her in colors that would turn the world against her.

So she stayed behind, even as she fought her dread and felt the death's icy chill clenching around her heart, little by little feeling the net tighten around herself and her husband. They were under a fidelius charm that Dumbledore had cast, with the scared little marauder, Peter, as their secret keeper. She had fought that decision asking if it weren't safer for her to be the secret-keeper, but Dumbledore just twinkled his eyes and James told her to trust in the old man.

She had fought as hard as she dared without outright shouting, but they had ignored her, and made Peter Pettigrew their secret keeper. She felt a certainty descend upon their home that day that they would all be dead soon. Rather than fall into despair however, she began to prepare the old rites, keeping things secret from everyone, even her husband couldn't be trusted. It was just her and Harry now, and she was sure she wasn't going to be in this world for long anymore.

"Blood of my blood, I give my life for you. Blood of my blood, I swear my soul shall always be by your side. Let me become your shield, let my sacrifice become the strongest ward, let my love always touch your heart, and live to become a strong man. I Lily Marie Evans, solemnly swear on my magic I wish my my very essence to be yours, as mother to a son, blood to blood, forevermore. So mote it be."

Lily had just finished the incantations and gathered away the shattered rune stones arrayed around her son a moment earlier to accomplish the old magic, when she could hear the crash downstairs and James' shouts for her to take Harry and escape. The footsteps were coming. She knew this was it, and steeled her resolve. She would die for Harry, and as her body would fall her soul would embrace her son's soul and become its shield. It might not work, the old magic, blood magic, was not only illegal but obscure, but she had done all she could for her child.

November 1st, 1981, Gringots

"As the Chief Warlock of the wizengamot, and the Potter will's executor, I demand that you seal the will away for now. We are living in dangerous times, and I have taken care of the arrangements to protect the young Potter Heir. In the meanwhile, I am assuming the role of his Magical Guardian as well as the Potter proxy in the wizengamot. It is far too dangerous for the will to be read out when the Dark Lord's followers walk freely, and to do so would be treasonous. I am sure you do not want a war at your hands."

The Goblin behind the desk growled frustratedly at Dumbledore but nod his head, accepting the man's words. They knew perfectly well this was illegal but Dumbledore's threats were not too subtle, and he would carry them out if necessary. People were praising the young child for what had happened last night, and there was no way they'd listen to a goblin rather than Dumbledore if the old man claimed the goblins were endangering the boy-who-lived by insisting on opening the Potter will that the old man claimed would expose his guardians and leave the boy as a target.

"Furthermore, I demand the keys to the Potter family vault, the trust vault for young Harry, and the Potter relic vault. I demand these keys are handed to me immediately. Furthermore, the payments from the Potter-owned properties shall be directed to my personal vault from this point on. I shall make sure Mr. Potter's best interests are seen to."

In other words, the old man wanted to empty all but the trust vault, and leave just enough to make the Potter boy feel he had a tie to the magical world and the funding to pay for his education but little else to his name after that. The goblins despised Albus Dumbledore, having seen how he weaseled his way to the orphan vaults of those killed in the war to siphon the funds to his own personal vault, before coming with the ministry to lay claim to those same vaults, taking what little scrap he had left previously and claiming the rest of the money had no doubt already been stolen by greedy goblins or been spent to fund the deatheater agenda.

Yet the goblins were well aware the man's double-faced nature, his subtle and not so subtle games, and even that one attempt to use legilimency on the goblins. The old man had been struck for the one time he dared to try and do this in the bank, shattering his jaw and trying to ban him from Gringots. Threatening the goblins with war, he had forced his way back to the bank however, and even demanded compensation. Holding the threat of a new war over the goblin's head, he forced their hand, though the Goblins kept building up evidence for a time when they could turn it in, hopefully with a champion speaking for them whom the wizards would be willing to listen. Hearing it from goblins would not matter to the wizards, but hearing it from a respectable wizard might.

Yet few had such love and adulation that they could compete with Dumbledore, in truth it might only be one boy, and Dumbledore already sank his greedy claws in the boy, and by ordering the boy's vaults under his control like he had, Dumbledore could even claim goblins were untrustworthy and had already betrayed the boy, even under Veritaserum.

September 31st 1989, #4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

The young boy living at the Dursleys looked hardly seven-years old given how small and thin he was, but at nine years of age he was still expected to earn his keep by doing back-breaking labor. Hours of weeding the garden, washing the car, mowing the lawn, cooking meals and cleaning dishes were what most of his days consisted of.

He hadn't even known his name until he was sent to school, being only called 'freak' or 'boy' at home. Having the class laughing at him when he didn't know his own name was an experience that young Harry could have done without, but his cousin's shout of "no his name is freak" had earned a round of laughter on his expense from the other students, but a frown from the teacher. Yet when they said they'd get to the bottom of this, the whole thing just got lost in a few days, and he heard nothing about it again from the adults, only mocking and taunting from the other kids.

Young Harry grew up unloved, unwanted, and mocked, but he was at least not physically abused. Not that his relatives hadn't tried, but when Dudley's arm was twisted into a U-bend and bones shattered at several spots after trying to punch Harry once, and Vernon's punch ending feeling like he had hit a stone wall, fracturing his arm all the way to his shoulder, they had stopped, for a while at least.

In fact, the time when aunt Marge came to visit the Dursleys and let his dog loose, the vicious little biter actually died the moment it tried to chomp on his thigh. There was enough force to send the dog flying to the wall and leave a large crack in the wall's surface, along with breaking the dog's neck. It was a cruel way to die, but the dog was known to bite anyone viciously, and Marge had set it loose on him on purpose.

He had spent a long time in the cupboard suffering since that visit though, barely alive as he was fed just few scraps to keep him at least alive, but the school thought he was ill and unable to attend while Harry was laying in half-awake state, malnourished and bordering the point where his body would have just given up trying to survive its poor state, when something unusual happened.

He had been dreaming of a woman that cared for him, a woman that smiled to him and held his small body up in her arms. That warmth and affection in her eyes had touched him deep in the heart, and he woke up sobbing and crying for his mom. Dursleys didn't care for his crying, always telling him to shut up if he did, but in the lonely confines of his cupboard under the staircase, that dream left him openly sobbing and crying.

"They aren't my family, they just hate me and call me a freak. They've always told me I don't belong here, and they're right, this is not my home!" As he said this loudly in frustration and sorrow, a shattering sensation struck him, a feeling like he was a glass of water that had just hit the hard floor after a fall from the table, shattering to pieces spraying water everywhere. Something in him had broken, and rushed through his whole form. That dream, that loud declaration, and that sensation together was too much, leaving young Harry shuddering and fainting away again.

Even as he did, the cupboard shone with green light coming from his young form, before it burst, and a previously unseen dome of orange light over the Privet Drive number four shattered, fading away, with people all over the street suddenly waking up from their sleep, a rush of memories of seeing the boy toiling long hours in the garden. The boy always being so polite to them yet treated with hatred and loathing. The boy trying to help out or at least stay out of way if he had already been rebuked, and yet that intent hatred they all had felt towards the supposed criminal.

The lies spread about him before had seemed so convincing but now fell apart as they realized in horror just how badly the boy had been treated. They were not alone in this however, as both school teachers and police that had visited the Privet Drive in the past suddenly awoke shocked with memories that they had somehow forgotten. More than a few of them also remembering a jovial old grandfather figure pointing a stick of wood at them.

Before the night was over, the protesting Dursleys were being dragged in plain view to a police car by the officers, the news crew filming the early morning arrest with the huge list of evidence being presented of several years of systematic abuse being covered up for so long before finally being uncovered, with people coming up to offer their own statements.

Yet the people were left with one big question and dreadful worry. What had happened to that young boy? He never had a room of his own in the house, but the cupboard under the stairs was stained by blood and ashes, with remnants of an old blanket found with the name 'Harry' embroided into it with loving stitches, archaic in style it was still the only piece of comfort other than a lumpy throw-away pillow in that small narrow space, with a small basket of over-sized clothes the poor boy had been seen wandering in before.

The police eventually declared with dread that they suspected the boy had been killed by his relatives, and the whole case became a nightmare example of what kind of monsters could live with a lie fooling good people for such lengths. Something kept trying to hide details but it was too wide spread, and even as a few people ended up confused for a while, the sheer amount of them made sure the truth came out.

It began with the muggle-world, but eventually the news reached the Wizarding World as well, and the fate of their saviour became a hot topic. He was supposed to be safe and protected by people that Dumbledore had entrusted their national hero to. Finding out abuse and apparent death didn't sit well with any of them.

Chapter End

A/N: This is a weird little attempt I have in mind, of Harry in Another World to start off, but I plan to include Harry in Hogwarts experience to this as well, but whether it will begin at his 1st year in Hogwarts or later will remain to be seen.

I have a basic plot in mind while writing this but I am doing a bit of world-building along the way too. Second chapter will mostly be on Harry and the other world he is in, but I will try and keep up with both worlds.

This is a !Smart, !Grey, !Independant Harry story, along with !Bashing of Dumbledore, and possibly of the following people: Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, 3 Weasleys (Molly, Ron, Ginny).

Flamers will be treated like Howlers: left to burn themselves out while being ignored. I write because I enjoy it, I don't give a damn about flaming.