Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter or Twilight. These characters are borrowed from the renowned authors J.K Rowling and Stephanie Mayer.
Summary: (Harry potter x-over twilight) What if it was Harry, not Edward who was glaring at his lab partner that fateful Biology class? What if Edward reminds Harry of a love he longs to forget? How can love find its way between the two when Harry sees not Edward, but another person from his ghastly past? HP/EC
Author's Note: this is my first time writing about Twilight and a crossover, I hope you enjoy it and feel free to correct me if I have any errors, but no flames. I would also just like to remind you that this is SLASH/ YAOI, meaning there will be boy to boy scenes, if you don't like it, then kindly click the BACK button cause this is not the story for you. Well, that sums it up, scroll the page down and ENJOY!
Prologue
Pain.
If there is anything in this world that Harry knows, it is pain. It was already there when his one year old self who was curled into a ball in his small cupboard, was asking, begging anyone to tell him why his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia do not love him the way they love his cousin Dudley.
It was there when he tried to drag his worn and beaten body back to his cupboard after Dudley and his friends finished a round of their daily "Harry hunting".
It was there when Uncle Vernon intentionally knocks him out of the way and every time Aunt Petunia hits him at a mere age for not completing his chores.
The pain started the moment Voldermort fired the killing curse at his parents, leaving him orphaned.
The pain was there because he was an ungrateful brat, a burden, a FREAK.
Until his 11th birthday.
When Harry learned that he was a wizard, the pain lessened. He was no longer different, no longer a freak. He thought that he'll finally belong and have a place he could call home. But the pain only doubled as his stay in the Wizarding world lengthened. Even in what supposedly was his home, he was different. A mad Dark Lord was out to kill him and he was prophesized to vanquish him.
The pain only grew worse in his stay at Hogwarts.
He was hated by his Potions Professor not for his action, but for his lineage.
In his second year, he was singled out and feared for being a Parseltongue.
Third year, he learned who really betrayed his parents and once again, couldn't be with his innocent godfather Sirius Black.
Fourth year, everyone turned their back on him for entering the legendary Triwizard Tournament and because of him, Cedric died.
Fifth year, Sirius died. All because of his reckless and selfish actions.
He endured all this pain because of his friends. They always managed to draw him out of his reverie and see the light amidst the dark where he resided. But now, they're also gone…. Like Sirius, his parents, like everyone, they left him….
Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Dean, Ginny……. Everyone died in the train ride home in the summer of his fifth year. It was an unexpected attack who even Dumbledore didn't predict. Harry fought with all his might together with his schoolmates and yet, how could students fight against fully trained and prepared to kill wizards?
Reducto could never compete with Crucio
Impedimenta is nothing compared to Imperio
And stupefy is nothing against the avada kedavra.
They were totally outnumbered and by the time the Aurors came, it was too late. Hogwarts lay destroyed on the ground, and piles of lifeless body littered the land.
The pain flared back with such a force that almost knocked Harry down. For days, he was in a trance-like state. The pain was so intense that Harry grew numb to it. He knew it was there, clawing at his heart, eating his soul and killing his being, yet, he could no longer feel it.
Once there was a time that Harry would give anything for the pain to go away. He wished fervently for it to disappear but now that it came true… Harry found himself empty… hollow. Like there was a missing part of him that cannot be filled.
Now he realized.
Pain was a part of his being. There is no him without pain. And without him, no one can beat Voldermort.
For the sake of his revenge, he would welcome pain.
Harry rolled the sleeves of his white polo and stared at the smooth unblemished skin in his wrist. With a steady and sure hand, he brought down the razor and watched as a thin red line appeared. With a frustrated look, Harry dug deeper, almost cutting a vain completely. Rivulets of his crimson blood flowed from where the skin broke, dripping incessantly. As soon as the pain hit him, relief flooded through him. This is a felling he knew, something he's familiar. He doesn't care that his once white shirt was soaked in his own blood or that anyone can walk on him and report him on Dumbledore. In reality no one would care. As long as he doesn't kill himself, they would turn a blind eye on what he's doing. They wouldn't bat an eyelash on the number of scars on his body. What's important is that their sacrificial savior is alive and breathing.
And Harry doesn't give a damn.
He'll let them mold him into a killing machine, their perfect little soldier. He'll learn what is being taught to him. He'll practice spells like he never did before and he'll kill without any regret if he has to.
As long as it'll help him kill Voldemort…. So that he can serve his purpose, and finally die.
To be continued…
N/A
I hope you like it….
More to come….
Please review! *grins*