Harrison & His Daughter in all but Blood

Declamation: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the mentioned characters and scenes that you may recognize. They all belong to J. K. Rowling and all those other lucky and intellectual people. I will properly not be writing this again because everyone knows who Harry Potter belongs to.

Summary: What if Harry was forced to grow up quickly? What if he was highly intelligent? What if he was completely independent? What if he knew what he was doing: could control his magic? What if his parents left him information? And what if he had someone to care for, someone completely dependent on him? Harry doesn't bow down to anyone and will do anything to protect his family.

Warning:

1) This is an AU but I will follow the guidelines of the books mostly up till at least book five.

2) There will be Slash, meaning Male/Male. if you do not like that sort of thing turn back now. I have not decided if it will between Harry/Severus, Harry/Draco, Harry/Blaise or Harry/? send me a review with any suggestions that you have.

3) This might turn out to be a time travel story if I can swing it.

4) There is also mentions of abuse and rape, nothing too graphic because I do not know how it feels and so would not be able to write it; I would also like to say here that I do not approve of abuse of any kind and that I think children should be cherished and looked after.

5) There may be minor sex scenes later on but I do not generally write them in my stories: it is not about the sexual relationship of the characters – especially in this story.

Chapter One: The Last Potter

When Harrison James Potter, Harry for short, was one year and three months old on a cold October's night, Lily Potter - a beautiful young women with sparkling emerald green eyes and long, fire red hair - brought a tray of tea and biscuits into the living room. It was in this room that Lily Potter's husband of three years, James Potter, who was a handsome young man with fly away messy black hair, hazel eyes covered by rounded wry framed glasses, was gently rocking their fifteen month old son to sleep with great difficulty. You see, young Harrison had once more stolen his father's glasses and was ignoring the rocking motion that normally allowed him to join the Land of Nod.

Lily carefully put the tea tray down and was about to take Harry from her husband, after prying his glasses from the happily giggling child, when there was a loud bang as the front door was blown off its hinges. James handed Harry over to Lily, snatched up his wand and glasses before pulling the love of his life into a quick, but passionate, kiss. Harry looked at his fearful parents curiously but he did not make a sound because he, like every child, was very sensitive to his parent's emotions and could feel their worry and despair even if at the time he could not put a name to the emotions.

James turned and ran towards the hallway to meet, and hopefully slow, the Dark Lord Voldemort down. He needed to buy time for his precious wife and child to get out of the house.

"Take Harry and run, Lil; I'll hold him off, just get out!" he shouted over his shoulder as he reached the door way to the next room in three quick strides.

Lily, with tears flowing down her cheeks, ran up the stairs and into the nursery holding her son close. Once in the nursery she grabbed Harry's emergency bag which had been packed encase their safety was compromised and tried to use her portkey – one of a set that Dumbledore had made for the Order of the Phoenix. It didn't work. Lily tried apparating but she just reappeared in the same place as before with a splitting headache from bouncing of the wards. They were trapped.

Tears continued to flow as she heard a high cold voice say "Avada Kedavra" and the sound of her husband's body hitting the floor less than a second later. Lily gently placed her son down in his crib with the bag next to him. She kissed his forehead and whispered softly to her whimpering son:

"I love you Harry, both me and your dad do, do you understand? We'll be watching over you; just remember we're proud of you, and no matter what you choose to do we'll always be proud of you. Uncle Padfoot will look after you when we're gone and uncle Moony will look after Padfoot." She smiled weakly at the last part.

Lily turned and faced the Nursery door, her feet standing on a runic array that she had drawn the week before using her, James's, Sirius's and Harry's blood. Lily's body stood directly between the door and her baby – separating her son from the monster that had just murdered her husband. She would not let the maniac kill her son, not even if she had to sacrifice herself for him. Lily had turned to the door in time to see as it was blasted off its hinges, the splinters flying at her so Lily shielded her head using her forearms.

A hooded figure glided into the room; he was tall and slim but the only defining features that were visible in the pitch black cloak were the glowing blood red eyes and long white, bony fingers that curled around his 141/2inch holly wand that was pointed at the wandless Lily. This man, no monster, was known as Lord Voldemort, although most fear to speak it for he had killed many; his very name striking fear into the hearts of all wizarding kind. The only person that this monster feared was Albus Dumbledore, the Leader of Light and current Headmaster at the renowned wizarding school known as Hogwarts.

"Stand aside," he hissed coldly at Lily.

"No, please," she screamed, "have mercy."

"You don't have to die, just stand aside you silly little Mudblood." He ordered for the second time.

"No please, kill me just don't hurt him." Lily begged.

"Move aside or die." Voldemort hissed a third time as he stepped forward threateningly.

"Kill me, leave him be." Lily begged, denying Voldemort access to her child for the third time.

"So be it; Avada Kedavra!" he shouted.

A sickly green light left Voldemort's wand and hit Lily square in the chest as she refused to dodge and allow her son to take the hit instead. She fell to the floor, eyes vacant in death. Her body was unmarked and if a non-magical were to come across her body they would believe she died of terror – like many of the bodies that had been turning up in the last few years.

Voldemort then turned his wand to Harry, and for the third time he spoke the incantation for the killing curse. The deadly green light left the man's wand, but, this time when it connected with Harry's head the young boy did not die. No the curse rebounded.

You see it was not just any October night; it was Halloween, or Sanheim, the day when the rift between worlds was strongest. Both Lily and James's souls had lingered on the earth, their love for their son keeping them there, this combined with the runes of sacrifice, power and protection and the magical properties of three meant that when the curse hit Lily and James' child, the magic merged within Harry to make a shield of love. It was old magic. Voldemort screamed in pain as his own curse backfired ripping his soul from his body which turned to ash.

As Voldemort's soul fled, the house slowly started to collapse - the magical back lash too much for the wards to handle now that the anchors had perished. Harry lay under a beam of wood that was only inches from hitting him - the only thing stopping it from squishing the boy was the bars of his crib that remained standing. He clutched at the bag his mother had put beside him and cried. Cried for his father, his mother or one of his uncles to come and take the pain away.

He didn't understand that they were gone; that they couldn't help him.

He didn't understand that his pain could only get worse.

How could he?