Harry Potter lay on his "bed", which was really no more than a dirty old mattress and sheet, in his "bedroom", which was no more than a cupboard, in number 4 Privet Drive.
"This year, I'm taking my life back." He spoke aloud to nobody. "This year, I'm going to get out of here. And I'm never looking back."
He couldn't stand the thought of returning. Ever since he was seven…
And then Cedric had died during the tournament, and Volde-dork had risen again.
This was looking to be a great life, Harry.
His once bright green eyes were now shadowed and dark. His face betrayed nothing, nor did his voice, which was a carefully trained monotone.
His eyes flicked to his watch. 11:59pm, one minute until he turned 15.
10 seconds.
He took a deep breath.
5.
He smiled, ready to leave and rent a room in the Three Broomsticks.
1.
0…
He screamed.
The pain swept through his body like flames dancing under his skin. It was unbearable. He was glad of the silencing charm he had cast on his room for the split second he managed coherent thought, before he lost himself to agony. It was like nothing he had ever experienced, it made the Cruciatus curse look tame! Eventually, he closed his eyes to the blissful nothingness that was unconsciousness.
When he awoke, he sat up quickly…
And banged his head on the roof. His arms and legs were cramped to him as he barely managed to curl up in the suddenly oh so small cupboard.
"Boy!" his uncle roared from outside, and Harry flinched, drawing himself in as far as he could. "We'll be going out for the day, and won't be back until 3 o'clock, do you hear? We expect to see your chores done by the time we get back."
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry called back, knowing this was the perfect time to get the hell out of there.
He heard the front door slam, and as soon as it did he bounded out of his cupboard and up to the bathroom, running over to the tall, six foot high mirror he had always been able to see his whole body in.
It looked like he had been decapitated.
Just under his chin, the mirror stopped, and he froze in shock. He must have been at least 6 foot 7.
All the scars, courtesy of his uncle, that used to litter his body were gone, leaving flawless, porcelain skin in their wake. His well-muscled chest was the kind that everyone wanted to have, but was impossible to achieve, and his arms and legs were long and strong.
He turned around to peer at his back, and saw opalescent scales starting at the small of his back and moving up until they covered his shoulders and swept his hips.
He crouched down, and his jaw almost hit the ground in shock at his new appearance.
His hair was longer, brushing his hips with a stylish fringe that hid his entire forehead and got in his eyes, with two longer bits on the side that stopped at his elbow, falling over his shoulder. It was a deep black that gave a raven's wing a run for its money.
He reached up slowly and parted the right side of his fringe, and sure enough, there was no lightening bolt scar. He felt a jolt of panic run through him, before he mentally reminded himself that it was probably best, anyway.
His face stood out from between the raven curtains. Two high cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks and a strong jaw. His nose was less feminine now, but had a regal arch to it that made it look like it was specially made for sneers, glares and scowls.
What shocked him the most was his eyes. A swirl of Avada Kedavra green, amethyst purple and gold stared back at him. He peered even closer, and noticed sapphire blue and blood red, as well as some flecks of silver. He continued staring, entranced by his own reflection, before snapping out of it by looking at his ears.
They were pointed.
Like an elf's.
Pointed.
He screamed and scrambled backwards until his back hit the opposite wall.
"Okay, calm down Harry! Just stick to the plan, get on the Knight Bus, go to Diagon Alley, visit Gringotts, get a room for the rest of the Summer and buy everything you could possibly need for your new look." He told himself in a smooth, beautiful tenor that also seemed to be a new addition.
He grabbed a black hair tie and quickly pulled the back of his hair into a high ponytail, leaving his fringe and the shorter bits down, the end of the ponytail reaching his hips like it had lengthened to always reach that length, no matter what.
He ran down the stairs and grabbed his trunk, before pausing one last time to send a mournful glance towards Hedwig's cage. His uncle had killed her almost as soon as he arrived, and he still hadn't quite recovered from losing the best friend he ever had.
He hauled his trunk down the road until he reached an alley. He pushed it into a wall and pulled out his wand, thankful that calling the Knight Bus didn't count as underage magic, because it wasn't real magic, and that the Ministry wouldn't be able to track him.
When he heard the unmistakable screech off brakes, he flattened himself against a wall, just in time for the Knight Bus to jerk to a stop where he had just been.
He grabbed his trunk and pulled it onto the bus, setting it at the foot of a bed.
"Where ya going, kid?" the man asked.
"The Three Broomsticks." He replied, thankful that the man didn't recognise him. But then, he could hardly recognise himself.
"That'll be two galleons." Harry handed over the money. "Hey, Ern!" oh, god. "The Three Broomsticks!"
"We'll have ya there in a flash!" The driver cackled, before taking off at such a speed that Harry was thrown to the floor.
Well, at least, he would have been, were it not for his newfound gracefulness. He simply sat there, not shaken in the slightest, and easily caught the flicker of disappointment in the man who had taken his money's face.
"Improved eyesight…" he murmured to himself, only just now registering that he was not wearing his glasses. "And hearing." He added, when he overheard a conversation happening on the top level of the bus like it was being shouted in his ear.
He found himself staring in awe at everything that they drove past. Not because the view was amazing, because it wasn't all that spectacular, but because he could very clearly make out every single thing. It was like one second in real time gave his mind an hour to take everything in, and he found himself grinning.
The trip was quite quick, and he practically ran into The Three Broomsticks, picking up his trunk as though it weighed nothing, even though the battered thing weighed almost 50kg.
"Yes, what can I do for you-" Tom, the man behind the counter, cut himself off in shock at the sight before him. The most handsome man he had ever seen stood before him, smiling a thousand galleon smile. "How may I help you?" he asked breathlessly.
"Yes, I'd like to rent a room until the first of September, please." Harry noticed the affect he had on the poor man instantly, and decided to use it as best he could. The poor man blushed from his toes to his teeth.
"Of course! Room 9!" the man held out a key with shaking hands, which only increased when Harry brushed his fingers. "Tw-twe-twelve g-gall-galleons pl-please! M-may I ask y-your name?" Tom squeaked.
"Hadrian. Hadrian Anathema…" he paused, trying to think of the perfect name. "Riddle. " Harry replied, handing over his money before he dropped his trunk in his room, before heading out to Diagon Alley.
When he walked into Gringotts, he immediately approached Griphook, the goblin who had helped him during his first, and only other, visit.
"Good morning, Griphook." Harry greeted him. The goblin dropped his quill in shock. "What is it?" he asked.
"Not very many wizards bother to remember our names, especially not ones of your status. But then, you're not a wizard, are you, Mr Potter?" he said.
"If I'm not a wizard, what am I?" Harry asked, confused and a bit scared.
"Why, Mr Potter, you are Draegon, it would seem. Though, I must admit I had believed them to be gone for over a hundred years."
"Well, may I access my vault, please?" Harry asked, filing away the information.
"Of course." The goblin said. When they reached his vault, Griphook handed him a small leather pouch. "It's bottomless, so you can put as much as you need in it." The goblin explained.
Harry walked into the huge vault, staring around him in awe. He filled the pouch with a small mountain of money that would last him a few lifetimes, it seemed, and walked over to the bookstand. On it was an ornate book entitled "Draegon", so Harry grabbed that. He walked over to a bookshelf filled with odd things and saw a number of rings, each belonging to the head of many different families.
He picked up the first one, a ruby with the Potter crest on it, and placed it on his finger for a second. It tightened to his finger, and refused to come off. He tried again with the others, and walked out of the vault slightly miffed with his hands weighing far too much, with half a dozen rings on his hands.
He walked into Madam Malkin's Robed for all Occasions shop first.
"Yes?" she asked, walking over to him.
"I need some new robes." He said. She laughed kindly.
"Yes, my dear. That tends to be the reason people walk into my shop." She smiled at him. He blushed a bit in embarrassment. "Now, what kind would you like? There are Casual, Dress, Potion-making, Duelling, Cloaks and School Robes."
"2 casual, 2 dress, 2 potion, 4 dueling, 1 summer and 1 winter cloak, a black reaper cloak and 5 Hogwarts robes, if you please." He smiled politely. "You may pick the colours." He added, making her beam at him.
"Of course." She smiled back at him. "Now, if you would just step over here I will take your measurements."
While she did so, Harry ran through his mental itinerary. He would need some shoes, books, a new trunk and a potions kit. Once the woman had finished attacking him with sadistic tape measures, he spoke.
"Do you know where I could buy some decent leather or dragon hide boots?" he smiled charmingly at her, the poor witch already wrapped around his little finger.
"Oh, you want The Leather Shoppe, about five down, to the left." She said breathlessly. "I have chosen a black and dark purple casual robe, a black with silver and a green with gold dress robe, 2 black potion robes, a dark red, a dark green, a dark blue and a black duelling robe, a grey summer cloak, a light grey winter cloak, the reaper cloak in black, as you specified, and the four Hogwarts robes are standard colours."
Harry voiced his approval, making Madam Malkin glow with pleasure. "How much will that be?" he asked. Money was no object.
"193 galleons, dear. I will have them delivered to your room by the end of this week." four days away. Perfect. He said as much as he paid her and left the shop.
When he walked into The Leather Shoppe, he was very pleased with what he saw. Clothes, shoes, bags, belts and even sheaths with weapons were for sale.
He walked over to the bags, and soon picked a soft brown leather one that had one large, bottomless compartment. It was also charmed to weigh nothing no matter how much was in it.
He picked up two pairs of black boots made out of the familiar black, strong hide of the Hungarian Horntail.
He also grabbed a few leather pants. Two in black and two in white, as well as one in dark blue, grey and dark red. They were skin tight, but charmed to allow maximum movement.
He picked up some dragon hide pants as well. One black Hungarian Horntail pair, a pearly Antipodean Opaleye, a copper Peruvian Vipertooth and a metallic grey-silver Ukrainian Ironbelly. All the pants had laces up the sides, because they weren't sewn there, so the pants could be easily removed and tightened to fit perfectly.
He picked up a set of armour made from Hungarian Horntail hide, which was tightly fitted to his body and capable of being hidden under a cloak quite easily.
He found a long, floor length duster made of Hebridean Black hide, a beautiful, deep purple colour.
He walked over to the accessories and picked up a thick pair of dragon hide gloves as well as a fingerless leather pair with metal knuckles. He bought a mask that would cover the bottom half of his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.
He also grabbed a black leather jacket that had a hood that hid his face from view.
He picked up three black and four white poets shirts that were long sleeved and loosely fitted, with lacings at the top that would expose the chest if undone. They tighten at the bottom, which would rest on his hips, and at the sleeves. They closely resembled stylish, casual dress shirts.
He picked up one grey, two dark brown, two black and one creamy white with gold lining vest.
He grabbed two leather wand holsters, and a broadsword with a brown leather sheath that could hand from his belt, as well as a quiver of arrows that could also rest on his hip and a bow.
He bought one silver and one black belt that could fit with his dress robes if he wanted and a dark brown one to wear all the time.
He made quick work of grabbing socks and underwear.
Before he left, he donned his black leather pants, his boots, a white shirt, leaving the laces undone to show off his sculpted, hairless golden chest and the belt, which had the quiver on his left hip with the shrunken bow inside it, the sword on his right and his new duster covering the whole ensemble.
Everything else was in his new bag, which he slung over one shoulder before heading off to the next shop.
The book shop.
Once there, he bought every book on dark or rare or exceptionally powerful magical creatures he could find, books on dark potions, poisons, healing potions and just potions in general, charms, curses, hexes, dark magic, animagus, transifiguration and ancient runes.
When he walked over to the counter with over two hundred books in the magical basket he carried, the attendant paled visibly and eyes the basket like it was going to bite him, before sighing in defeat and glaring at Harry.
"Just give me 200 galleons and leave." He said, unwilling to go through the process of adding up the cost of all those books.
Harry grinned, knowing he had saved a lot of money, and quite happily gave the grumpy shop attendee the coins.
He ran into the apothecary, quickly closing the door behind him. That had been close. He had seen Tonks and Mr Weasley walking through Diagon Alley in the direction of Flourish and Botts, where he had just come from, and had flitted for god's sake, he had moved so fast he was a blur that no one else seemed able to see, to the Apothecary.
"Excuse me." He began politely, walking up to the counter.
"Yes?" The man behind it asked.
"Can you please show me your most advanced potions kit?" he smiled charmingly, once again winning over the attendee.
"Of course. Right this way!" The man said eagerly, leading Harry to one side of the room and showing him a beautiful, black, polished wood box.
The man lifted the gold clasp gently and the lid of the box. The bottom layer instantly pushed out so it was in front of the second layer, which had moved out from under the top layer, giving it the affect of stairs. The bottom layer was magically enhanced to hold all potions ingredients, the second layer held brewing items like cauldrons and the top layer held quills and ink and a special brewer's diary that would never run out of pages, as well as room for other books.
It was already fully equipped in both the first and second layer.
"I would like one of everything." Harry said to the man, gesturing around the shop. The poor assistant's eyes bugged out of his head, but he eagerly complied, stacking the ingredients into their allocated sections before summing up the total, after placing the now sealed box in Harry's bag.
"That'll be a total of 1243 galleons." He practically fainted when Harry handed over the money as though it was nothing, having come to the conclusion that his family was well and truly filthy rich.
Harry decided to walk through Knockturn Alley, just to see if there was anything of interest.
He soon came to a shop with a sign that had only a wand on it, nothing else, and he decided to go in.
"Yes, my dear?" an elderly woman walked over to him from the back of a shop. "Bless my soul." She gasped. "I never imagined I would see one of your kind. Here for your wand, I assume?" she asked.
"I already have a wand…" Harry trailed off in confusion.
"Yes, but not one specially made just for you. Your current one is not a perfect match. Close, but not quite. And it is being tracked by the Ministry." She added with a toothy grin.
"So a wand I buy from here won't be Ministry tracked? I'll be able to use it?" he asked.
"Darling, all my wands are custom made to suit the owner. Now, let's see. You, being of such a regal race, will be needing a staff." She said decisively.
"Don't you think that would be a bit big-"
"And a wand." She cut him off. "Some of your blood, if you could." She held out a bowl and knife to him, and he didn't hesitate in slicing his palm and filling the tiny stone object with the red liquid.
"Now, let's see. Rosewood and blackthorn with a bloodwood handle, with Darcon horn core and dark phoenix feather." She nodded resolutely.
"Dark phoenix?" Harry asked.
"A dark phoenix has the power over the shadows, darkness and air elements, but can create and manipulate black flames as well." She explained as she collected the ingredients.
"Now, these are going to be the base for your wand and staff, but with the staff you have to choose a jewel for the top, and for your wand you must choose a pattern." She said, setting several boxes on the counter and waving him over.
He looked in the first box and quickly picked a large, teardrop shaped jewel that matched his scales for the top of the staff. The staff was carved around it and it looked like a basilisk's head with the jewel in its mouth, and actual basilisk eyes for the eyes of the carving. Thankfully, once a basilisk died it's eyes hardened into jewels that could be used to give the user increased magic abilities.
For his wand, he found a beautiful rope of emerald green in the shape of a vine with ruby and onyx roses on it. It wrapped around the 16 inches that was his wand, stopping just before the top and making the perfect handle shape.
"A good length for a wand." The woman had said. "One plus six is seven, after all."
He picked up the staff, and placed it in his bag, the 10 foot high monstrosity disappearing from view, and put his wand in his new wand holster on his wrist.
"How much?" He asked her.
"10 galleons, deary." She replied, her skin crinkling around her eyes even more as she smiled at him.
"Thank you." He said sincerely.
"It was nothing." She replied, shooing him out of the shop. "Now off with you!" she said playfully.
He turned around to thank her, but both the woman and her shop had disappeared, leaving an empty shop. "What?" he muttered, before attempting to brush it off as nothing as he made his way back to his place of residence.
He collapsed onto the bed in nothing but his boxers as soon as he arrived, and fell asleep.