Authors note:
The story we about to embark on is not your average fanfiction. It is a telling of events that would have occurred if the Dark Lord had made other decisions before that fateful night decisions that would change the plot dramatically. Because of this the tale shall not quite be the one in print and film, the one we all love and adore, but a twisted, mangled, placed in a room devoid of all light version that I sincerely hope you might enjoy at least half as much as the original.
It will still have the same cast; heroic Harry, head strong Hermione, and the red headed lad with all the brothers, but there are some additions. You will learn about them in time. The main and most important new character is a boy by the name of Jason Storm, who is the soul reason for this hasty scribble of a fanfic, for his story needs to be told.
The story of The Other Hero.
I do hope you enjoy.
Chapter One: So, I'm a wizard?
I shall begin this story at a place we all can identify; a small shabby shack in the middle of an island surrounded by storm ruffled waters. A man who could have been several men held a bent rifle, a pudgy blonde boy grasped his newly acquired pigs tail in frightened fingers, and the Boy Who Lived finally got his letter and read it with amazement and hope.
The emerald green ink shone and boasted his name from the strange textured paper, possibilities that had been released with the opening of the envelope flapped through the brisk air of time, Harry wondered which one was meant for him.
What you didn't know was at the same exact time approximately 35 miles away in a grubby little room sat another young boy who is as important in the plot of the battle between the Dark Lord and the infamous Harry Potter as teeth to a mouse, although no one would ever have guessed.
The boy had dark features; deep brown eyes and hair to match, and a slightly haunted look about him as if forever ready for a beating.
His tongue licked lips that were as dry as the crisp parchment in his hand. He slowly reread the green words that he may just-and only just- dare to spark hope within his suspicious mind.
He looked again at the silver haired man who sat patiently, hands clasped, in front of him. His kind face displayed a subtle look of de ja vu. The boy took a last hopeless glance at the green pointed hat being rotated in the mans hands and said rather reluctantly for fear of disappointment:
"So I'm a wizard?"
The man looked into his eyes "Yes, Jason, you are"
"Which is why…"
"Which is why your caregivers wig turned into a rat"
Jason managed to hold back his grin and skimmed over his letter again
"So when do we leave?"
Dumbledore waited outside the boy's room, he distantly heard the sounds of hurried packing coming from within it. He peered down the empty hallway; it was eerily quiet for an orphanage full of young children. His mind drifted back to memories from years ago…
The orphanage he remembered had been shabby, but neat none the less.
But now…whoever had taken over had obviously given up on keeping it in order. Paint curled off of the walls and the carpet ended at least half a meter before it would meet the wall, with only the odd frayed thread to show that they had been connected many years before. A small child of indefinite gender poked it's head out from a door frame, a hand reached around to grab the edge for balance, a dirty rag of a bear dangled from the child's fingers. The child looked traumatised. A shiver went up the old wizards spine as he remembered his last visit to this orphanage.
Jason fitted the last of his possessions into his suitcase; they barely filled half of it. As usual, his mind was quickly analysing the likelihood that this would all end in a visit by a fist belonging to Brian Obituary, another prisoner of the orphanage named after the part of the newspaper he was found wrapped in as a baby. The irony had never been lost of Jason, who was sure the odds that Brian had sent a few people into the obituaries himself were very high, despite the fact that the boy was only fourteen years old.
Jason himself was only eleven, but growing up in a run down orphanage had forced him to mature early. He reasoned that the man waiting outside was probably some deluded old lunatic, or perhaps a kidnapper or a guy being paid off by Brian to 'get rid of him'. But still, anything was better than staying at the orphanage, and maybe just maybe there really was a Hogwarts. Best not to get too hopeful though.
Jason grabbed his luggage and went to open the door; he didn't bother to look back at what had been his bedroom for his entire life. He'd rather forget.
Minutes later, Dumbledore and Jason stepped out into the night. Both with a feeling that all this would turn into something big…
They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron later that night.