A Marvel of Magic: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: Harry Potter is the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, though nobody knows how he did it. Well, as crazy as it sounds, the answer is simple: he didn't survive it: at least, not how they might think he did.

Author's Note: So, admittedly, this has to be one of my most-random, unusual ideas ever and, at the same time, I was hoping to hold off on posting it until the big day was here, but damn inspiration just wouldn't leave me alone, so let's see what sort of fun can be had with this, shall we?

Also, be prepared for some well-known tropes and ideas, some that people will like and others…not so much, but hey, that's why I say what I always say.

If you don't like it, don't read it.

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to my many fans and friends: my recommended reads are Saviour of Magic by Colt01, No Matter What by Chazaq, Harry Potter and The Power He Knows Not Book 1 The Reluctant Champion and Harry Potter and The Prince of Power Book 1 Birth of a Snake by ACI100, Harry Potter and the Revival of Soul Magic and Harry Potter: Birth of Technomancy by AlphaPheonix, Englands First TRUE Modern Mage by JokerKing666, Master Potter of Kamar-Taj by Ryuko monogatari, Harry Potter and the Millennium Mystic by Winged Seer Wolf, Harry Potter and the Shunned House by alexandertheII and For Love of Magic by Noodlehammer

Key Pairing: Eventual Lunar-Harmony

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

/Parseltongue/

Prologue: A Different Beginning

Silence;

That was the first thing Harry was aware of when he opened his eyes and looked up at the large-scale devastation that surrounded where he was hunched in the foetal position. An eerie, haunting silence that seemed to fill the space around him with mystery and fear, but, for Harry, it was more like something truly unusual, yet extraordinary had happened, but he couldn't quite understand, let alone remember what that was.

Instead, as he took in the sight of whatever had happened, the only things he saw were the rows of metallic skeletons that had once been bikes as well as what looked like doors that had been blown clean off their hinges. Here and there, several broken windows revealed nothing but silence and the daylight outside, though as Harry slowly got to his feet and walked through this graveyard of destruction caused by who-knows-what, his head snapped around when he heard what sounded like a pleading voice that spoke to someone Harry couldn't see.

"I…I don't know how to describe it…just please…you have to get here…please hurry…"

As he heard the speaker addressing whoever it was they were talking to, he didn't know why, but, all of a sudden, Harry felt an all-consuming urge to be anywhere but here.

Slowly, sluggishly and with a sea of confusion enveloping every fibre of his being, Harry staggered his way through the destruction, though as he did so, he stopped suddenly as he felt a hard, but brittle surface kicking against his foot.

Looking down to see what he'd hit, his eyes widened when he saw a large-looking skeleton dressed in the uniform of his local school.

As he stared at the sight, a sick feeling rose up in his belly: whether it was just a good guess or the fact that the skeleton was pretty big-boned and yet had been stripped clean of flesh, he didn't know, but some dark instinct inside of him told Harry who it was he was looking at.

He knew it, but he didn't know how or why it had happened.

"Dudley…" whispered Harry, before he gasped as the sound of sirens filled his ears.

Acting on an instinct that he didn't know he possessed, Harry ran straight for the exit of the school, passing an approaching police car as he fled.

All the while, he repeated the thought over and over again: a thought that he still had no idea how he'd done it.

Somehow, he had…something had…no…

He had killed his cousin and managed to walk away without a scratch.

His Aunt and Uncle had always said that he was a monster and now, because of something that Harry couldn't control, it had happened again.

For years, ever since they'd first found him on their doorstep after the mysterious deaths of Harry's parents, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had always had mixed emotions about their nephew, but those emotions were mostly made up of fear and rage.

Now, perhaps, Harry had finally found out why that was.

It was because he was a monster.

And now, all he could do was run.

Marvel

Darkness fell…but Harry didn't stop.

Racing away from Little Whinging, he hadn't slowed his pace until, as evening began to draw in, he reached a dense woodland area, where the sounds of sirens and cries of alarm and curiosity told him that he was being pursued, but he couldn't stop: no matter how loud his stomach groaned with hunger or how much he wanted to rest, he had to keep going.

As he looked back, trying to see if the unseen chasers had spotted him yet, Harry gave a loud cry as he ran headlong into another figure, whom snarled dangerously as he hissed, "Found you, you little freak!"

Looking up, Harry's eyes widened when he saw his Uncle, Vernon Dursley, pointing a gun at him, his eyes blazing with a look that promised sheer retribution and also told Harry that he wasn't going anywhere before Vernon had taken his revenge.

Trying to crawl away from the man, Harry gasped out, "No…I didn't…I couldn't…please don't…"

"No," snarled Vernon, knocking Harry back with the butt of his weapon before he pointed it at Harry again as he hissed, "Now you're going to die just like your freak parents: justice for my boy, you little monster!"

Cocking the gun, Harry saw his Uncle aim it at his head, but at the same time, a loud chorus of voices filled the young boy's ears: suddenly, from all sides, the police and members of the forces that had been chasing him began barking orders for him to get down.

No matter which way Harry turned, he couldn't get out.

He couldn't tell them what had happened because, well, he had no idea himself.

All that he knew was that he was scared.

Scared of dying, even though no-one would miss him.

Scared of never being able to try and make up for whatever he'd done.

Scared of being…being him.

Being Harry the Monster.

Harry the Freak.

Harry…the Murderer!

He was scared of being that most of all.

He never wanted to be a murderer, a freak, a monster or anything else.

He just wanted to be…Harry!

Just Harry!

And now, he wouldn't get a chance to do that…let alone know why that was.

"GET DOWN!" Screamed one of the officers, startling Harry back to reality, just in time to cause the young boy to stumble as he crouched down, a part of him hoping his willing surrender might, at least, spare him from dying, even if it meant he'd spend the rest of his life in a jail or madhouse.

At the same time he crouched down with the intent of giving up, however, Harry's blood suddenly ran colder than cold as he felt a strange, but oddly-familiar tingling sensation stirring beneath his skin. As he felt it, the young boy's eyes widened when he realised that he'd felt this before.

Just before he'd blacked out and awoken to the devastation at his school.

"No…" he pleaded silently, feeling the tingling turn into a searing heat that scorched through him: at the same time, the air around Harry rippled and crackled with energy unknown while Harry's green eyes lit up like neon flares, momentarily flashing gold in colouring as his fear seemed to fuel the power inside him.

Power he now remembered feeling before…before he'd become a murderer and a monster.

"Not again," pleaded Harry, tears forming in his glowing eyes even as he hunched down, trying to make himself as small as possible while he wept onto the ground as he whispered, "Please…please don't kill them…they don't mean it…please no!"

"GET! DOWN! NOW!" Exclaimed the guard nearest to Harry, but before Harry had a chance to say or do anything, his world exploded in a loud burst of white, gold and green-coloured energy, which ripped through the air itself, sending the soldiers, Uncle Vernon and the vehicles around them flying into the trees.

Had Harry felt brave enough to look up, he might have been relieved to note how the soldiers were lucky enough to survive.

On the other hand, Vernon found himself sandwiched between a y-shaped tree branch and a flying patrol car, which ended his time on the Earth.

As for Harry, he just hunched down, feeling his forehead sweat profusely while his heart raced and his eyes streamed tears of sorrow, pain and anguish for what he'd just done.

He'd hurt them…

Wounded them…

Killed them…

And no-one could help him.

"Harry…"

Or so he thought…

Looking up, Harry's eyes widened with disbelief and surprise as he saw a tall, white-haired gentleman emerge from the trees, his body surrounded by what looked like a strange sphere of blue light, which seemed to protect him from the world beyond the circle.

Approaching Harry, the white-haired man bent down before he smiled softly as he held out a hand to the boy.

"Take my hand, child," the man explained to him, "I can help you understand your gift."

"Who…who are you?" asked Harry, his eyes wide as he felt the strange circular energy ripple against his skin, seemingly cooling the heat that he'd felt before the great blast had torn itself out of him. "Why…why aren't you hurt? Or…or dead?"

"Because I'm like you, Harry," explained the man in a gentle voice, his hand still extended to Harry, though the young boy seemed reluctant to take it, even as the old man assured him, "I'm different too."

Harry only needed to look at the strange ball-like energy around them to know that.

And yet, he still hesitated in taking the stranger's hand, even as he looked to the old man as Harry asked again, "And…who are you, sir?"

"My name's Albus Dumbledore," answered the stranger, brushing down Harry's clothes with one hand while the other was still extended to the boy, who still seemed reluctant to take the hand as the older man told him, "And, like you, I'm a wizard, Harry: a sorcerer of the magical arts. And like I said, I can help you understand this power of yours before you…before anything else happens."

"But…" Harry gasped, trying not to show tears to the man as he exclaimed, "I…I killed them…but how? What…what sort of freak am I?"

"You're not a freak," Dumbledore told him, his voice making Harry think of a kindly-old grandfather as he added, "You're just a very powerful little boy whose magic is a bit…a bit more than others: but like I told you, my boy, if you let me help you, we can find out together: I promise."

With wide eyes that seemed to shine like the stars themselves, Harry looked up to Mr Dumbledore before he swallowed hard, lowering his head just as quickly as he whispered, "I…I don't want to hurt anyone, sir…"

"I know," replied Dumbledore, withdrawing the hand he'd extended to Harry as he kneeled down before, looking right into the eyes of the young boy, he told him, "And I promise you, Harry: once you learn to master these powers of yours, you will never hurt anyone, not even yourself, again…not unless you want to, of course."

While Harry looked up in awe and no small amount of wonder and surprise, Albus smiled softly as he extended his hand to the boy once again;

"So, dear boy, what do you say? Would you like me to show you exactly what you are capable of?"

So, a bit of a strange beginning, as I'm sure you'll agree, but it leaves us with questions: why did Harry do…whatever he did to his school, his cousin, the police, Vernon and others?

What did he do?

Also, why does he seem reluctant to accept the hand of one who seems to hold the answers he's looking for?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Albus comes to a surprise revelation about his young charge while Harry fills in a few blanks…for us and for the old man;

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