NAME: Do I HAVE to redo EVERYTHING?
SUMMARY: Harry Potter has lost everything, everyone, and now he's lost even his mind. At least thats what he thinks when he wakes up in his 11 year old body. Follow Harry as he re-writes everything, with a snarky attitude, a bloody past and a murderous side.
RATING: T
AUTHOR: WritingIsTherapy, or WIT
MAIN CHARACTER: Harry Potter
Enjoy!
Prologue
"Mark, hand me that Gun you ass," One Harry Potter yelled at his best friend Mark, who just looked at him with a smirk. Grumbling to himself, Harry grudgingly picked up the dagger twirling it between his fingers testing its weight. Finally he spun on Mark once again and glared daggers at him, pun totally intended. "If you don't give me that damn gun I'll shove this up you're skinny white-"
He was cut of when the gun was hastily shoved into his hands, he was grinning at Mark whom promptly scowled at him darkly, making a note to set fleas free in his bed that night, Harry saluted and then handed him the dagger. This was a regular routine amongst the two men, the rest of their team just laughed when Harry stuck his tongue out childishly at Mark who'd decided cuffing him 'round the head was the best way to go. You'd think these highly trained death machines would be more composed, even cold but unfortunately or fortunately, no one was sure, Mark and Harry happened to bring the worst or best out of people. In this case he had made the whole team warm up to their antics, even sometimes joining in. Mark and Harry were the newest addition to the 'death machines' but they were already very respected for their skill on the battlefield and there un-relenting will to any mission they were given. Many of the team members still had trouble killing a simple man, but Mark and Harry (especially Harry) would execute it perfectly without any hesitation sometimes even prolonging it longer then necessary. To be honest it was scary, and the team members though they laughed at their antics now, did not find Mark or Harry at all funny on their missions or in a tight situation.
"Damn Harry, why can't you ever let me have a go with the gun? I mean, yeah you're better then me with it, but I'll never learn if you don't ever let me use it," Mark whined playfully, and Harry laughed a cold dead tone that held no warmth that it usually did. This was what scared the team members the most, Harry was funny, he was loud, and he was rambunctious, but he was also highly dangerous and even Mark was frightened of him. If they were to truly look at Harry they'd also realize he was more then a little crazy, he fell a bit more under completely insane.
"Because I don't need you slipping up and landing yourself killed," he said lowly so the other team members wouldn't hear and with that he was gone out the window slipping off in the night.
Mark cursed inwardly for not realizing that wouldn't help anything, but never the less followed after him shortly after, knowing if he was ever going to find Harry he'd have to catch up as quickly as possible. The other team members followed behind, one of the youngest and newest looked out the window a picture of pure horror and fright on his face. This was his first mission and though he had trained for hours and hours over the course of weeks he knew that even though the others treated this as nothing, they could very well loose their lives out there.
Harry on the other hand was caught up in his memories, for some reason he couldn't seem to get Hermione's screams out of his head and that wasn't good. He shook himself roughly and started to get angry, angry with Voldemort, angry at his life, and angry at Mark for bringing this on with that stupid question of his. Wasn't his fault dufus, you're just being an idiot. Said that annoying voice in the back of his mind. He growled at himself and his own stupidity and then a manic smile broke across his face, lips curled in a most un-pleasant way, at least he'd get to kill some death Munchers today.
When the others caught up to him a shared glance between the two of them communicated their understanding and forgiveness. The moment was broken when a shout from one of the team members alerted them of quiet footsteps creeping up from behind them. Harry spun around to see the youngest of their group look at them sheepishly, and he knew right that second, that something bad would happen. Something REALLY bad.
"That IDIOT," Harry cursed under his breath, and then pandemonium broke loose, if the situation had not been so dire he would have joked that he was turning into Trelawney. The footsteps turned out to be more Death Munchers and curses flew at them left right and center. A few of them fell right away and Harry cursed even louder, his mind clouded with rage and he spun around on the nearest death Muncher shooting ten rounds of his pistol into the man's already limp body. Blood sprayed his face, and coated his robes but the way his eyes were dilated and crazy showed he didn't care one bit. He yelled as the feral side of him took over, something he'd developed over the years of killing and being hunted. It was probably a safety measure but it was the only thing that kept him alive sometimes.
He then spun around again and shot another of the death munchers just as he was about to say the cursed words, and then they were dying like flies. Blood, brains and guts were flying, and in the chaos he lost his team for a second but they reappeared behind Harry not too long after, they covered his back in a formation of the huddle but the death munchers kept coming and eventually it was only Harry and Mark standing in the middle of the blood and gore. He looked over at Mark a silent agreement passing between the two. A few death Munchers laughed at them and taunted the two, who were covered in blood, the body's of their teammates beside them. When the death munchers pointed their wands both of them grinned, and then with a final war cry they both clicked the buttons on their jackets.
The explosion was instantaneous. Buildings crumbled around them and the place was destroyed in seconds, the boom was horrible and Harry could literally feel his skin peeling off of his body. Not a pleasant feeling to be honest. Everything was a bright white with flecks of orange and he looked down at his hand wondering why it was actually harming him. But then the world went black and he felt himself slip into what many called a deep sleep.
-Linebreakness-
"It seems, Young Harry Potter, that you have failed in you're goal,"
It was a whisper.
"And I can't allow that to happen,"
The voice was caressing, like a cool breeze on a sunny day.
"You see, if we allowed Voldemort to win, the whole world would perish,"
Voldemort? He knew that name.
"So I have a proposition,"
He wanted to speak but couldn't, the peaceful lull of the words made him sleepy. So sleepy…
"I will send you back to the world, and you will not remember me, but know that I will visit you in dreams…"
The voice was fading and he felt awareness creep around the edges of his conscience.
"Good Luck Young one, do not let you're grief blind you're will…"
The voice faded.
He slipped and started to fall towards a brilliant light.
And then a miracle happened.
A/N: Re-wrote this since it was horrible before, not at all explained or anything, I also wanted to add in an OC like this, don't worry she'll come back.
Anyways enjoy the new chapter! It took a while to fully re-write it, also I have 16 reviews and when I have 20 a new chapter will be the reward :3