A/N: So, recently I saw Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them and was taken by the concept of an obscurial. From this came this story and what I hope it to become. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. It wouldn't be called fanfiction then.
Harry Potter: Age 5
Harry laid, curled up in his cupboard and his knees to his chest, weeping. Again his Aunt and Uncle had beaten and locked him away for what they called his freakishness but refused to give a true name too. But Harry knew, he'd always just as he always knew his name to be Harry that he possessed magic as had his parents before him, something that terrified his relatives and drove them to beat him. This magic was the last connection Harry held to his parents but he wanted it no longer. All he wanted was acceptance by his living relatives and if it meant giving up his last connection to his dead ones, well then so be it. And with this Harry released his magic from the desperate clutch he'd always held upon it and instead drove it down and released it, into the void of mind, body, and soul. As Harry's magic reacted about him throwing strange shadows and lights upon the inside of his cupboard he crying himself to sleep.
3 Years Later
Once again, Harry lay within his cupboard crying. He lay there hungry, frightened, and in pain. Again his uncle had beaten him and locked him within his cupboard, his aunt withhold his meals. Over the years they never got any better, if anything they grew worse. They thought him hiding his magic not to please them but to deceive into he thinking he was one of them, something they had thoroughly convinced him at this point that he was not.
At last Harry was finished with it all, too much time and effort had gone into convincing people that he was something other than himself, all he wanted was to be away from his family and to never see them again. With this final wish he fell asleep exhausted, physically and mentally. But as slumber overtook Harry Potter from his body began to exude an inky darkness that expanded, filling his cupboard before erupting from the cupboard having thrown the door from its hinges and gushing out to fill the house to the brink and once having done so froze for just a moment before violently exploding with an unearthly shriek; the house going along with it. The house as a whole was thrown in every which direction, no remaining piece larger than a cupboard door and the darkness froze again before rushing back to the boy who lay within the cupboard that had once resided under the stairs and simply vanished.
The following hour brought about the arrival of police who came to investigate, being summoned by neighbors who had woken up upon the sound of the destruction of the house and upon noticing the absence of #4 Privet Drive had called the police. Upon their arrival being able to see very little of the lot, it being a cloudy night, used their automobiles to illuminate the plot and saw many things, most of them being scattered shattered components of a house, but the only object of notable interest was what appeared to be a broom cupboard. As they approached their thoughts turned to what could be within the cupboard and how it possibly survived but, once they saw what lie within, they became shocked and confused. The copper responsible for the investigation of #4 Privet Drive managed to come to his senses and actually observe the boy, what he found shocked him for the boy seemed not only malnourished but physically abused and dressed in rags. Taken by fury, for he himself had kids, he stood up and addressed the nearest cadet, "get me neighbors," he hissed "we have an abuse case on our hands as well" before scattering the rest of the shocked cops, sending them about their work. He turned back to the boy in the cupboard before sighing and crouching down. "Hey kid. You alright?" the cop said, knowing the boy was not. Boy did not respond so the cop slowly stretched out a hand and gently shook the boy, again no response. Resigned the fact he was not going to get any answers now, the cop gently scooped up the boy and took him to his automobile, laying him down in the back seat with a jacket stretched over him. Being brought into the light the boy's face seemed to scrunch up in discomfort so the cop turned off the overhead lights and the boy relaxed. The door was closed and the cop went about his business, #4 Privet Drive now having been declared a crime scene for even if one had not been committed tonight, this boy had been wronged and he was going to seek justice.
Harry slowly came about in a place filled with blinding light, but as his eyes became adjusted he realized that he had no idea where he was and within him a tiny glimmer of hope was sparked, that maybe, just maybe, he was away from his so-called family. And so harry sat upon a bench in this room filled with brightness and contemplated what could happen next. He sat for not so long before a door opened in the wall and through walked a man dressed as a cop. Harry stared at the man silently and the man had been staring back but quickly looked away unnerved. "Um, kid," he said awkwardly "are you aware of what happened last night?' Harry merely shook his head. "Well," he continued clearly stumped for what to say before deciding what to say, "look, I'll just give it to ya straight. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin are dead and we need know a couple things about who you are and what they did to you." About half-way through this declaration Harry heard a thump from one of the wall and as the man was finishing his spiel the door was thrown open and the man yanked from the room before the door was closed once again. Harry resumed his contemplation of what may become for a short while before it was interrupted by a man older than the prior one who appeared tired and irritated. "Sorry about the kiddo," he said glancing back towards the door, "don't know how he was chosen to tell you so let me set the story right for you."
He was about to continue speaking but Harry interrupted, "is it true? Are my relatives… dead"
The cop deflated upon hearing this, "yes, yes they are."
"What's going to happen to me then?" Harry asked.
"Well, that's the problem. We can't figure out what to do with you because according to our records you barely exist. The Dursleys never documented you officially, the closest being your school reports so we can't figure out who you are and for that we need your help. Namely who your parents are. Can ya do that for me?"
Harry's eyes drifted downwards, "My mother was Lily Evans and my father James Potter. They're dead now and just so you know I have no other relatives, or at least ones that would take me in."
"Uh, thanks kid. Don't worry soon we'll set you right as rain." the cop said before standing up and leaving the room. Harry once again went back to his thoughts of what may be, closing his eyes to block out some of the light. He dreamt of a life where he was Harry, one of magic, not Harry delinquent relatives of the perfect Dursleys.
As to Harry's expectations they found no relatives of his and as a result he was sent to an orphanage on the outskirts of London located within an abbey and run by a collective of nuns. For a year he met weekly with a child psychologist in an attempt to learn about his abuse at the Dursleys and work him towards getting past it, but, to the psychologist's shock, Harry seemed to care little about his abuse, preferring to not think of it and was capable of coaxing little about it out of him. This first year at the orphanage was less than ideal for Harry was picked upon and bullied by his fellows orphans for preferring to be by himself rather than among the crowd, they figured he thought himself better than them. This behavior came to a sudden stop when a group of children confronted Harry in a darkened room where he enjoyed reading.
There Harry sat, in the darkened attic of the orphanage. A place he often went to enjoy reading a book he borrowed from the library. Unfortunately his tormentors were aware of his inclination for dark places and would sometimes seek him out here. Today was one of those days. They stood above him now, having entered the attic while he remained sat upon the floor continuing to read his book. They expected an acknowledgment but as they waited only to receive none, grew angry. "Hey nerd," the lead bully sneered as his fellows behind him snickered, "just because you think you're better than us doesn't mean you can ignore us." As Harry continued to be unresponsive their anger only grew. The front man for the crowd now leaned forward and snatched Harry's book from his hands before reading the cover, "a book on math, who would want to read this? What's wrong with you freak, you think you're some smart professor? You're just a freak with dead parents, just like the lot of us," finishing his rant he tore the book in half through the seam and threw the two halves at Harry, them landing in his lap. Harry stared down at the ruined book, trembling, and picked up the two halves. His hair fell over his eyes as the room seemed to grow even darker than before. Quickly it became pitch black, with the bullies being able to see nothing. They began to panic and blindly search for the ladder down, out of the attic, but were unable to find it. Suddenly a primal roar was heard before the bullies began to feel themselves being thrown around, them all quickly rendered unconscious. Once the thumping ceased the darkness slowly withdrew to its previous level, revealing several battered and bruised boys, but no serious injuries, and one child clutching a pristine mathematics textbook to his chest and tears running down his face.
After this incident was somewhat feared by the population of the orphanage and left to his own devices, something that he was content with for he felt no great need for human interaction. Harry busied himself with his schoolwork, reading, and developing what he could of what he knew to be his magic. All of this he prefered to do within a room cast in shadow rather than one drowned in light. As he explored his capabilities he became capable of levitation primarily, for was something easily practiced and development becoming quite adept at it. Other avenues were explored but to a lesser extent: the creation of light (a skill he developed and then quickly ignored finding it difficult, irritating, and unnecessary for no darkness was to dim for him to see in), the removal of light (something he found quite pleasing), and embracing the void (something that cleared his mind and made it ever sharper). Altogether Harry continued as this until one day where he received a letter from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and from this opened a world of possibilities.
A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. All reviews are welcome, reviews not heaping piles of flame. If anyone has questions just ask and I'll try to answer them in next chapter A/N. For now cya for it's late and I'm kinda tired.