CHAPTER ONE
Harry Potter sat in his bedroom, and he knew. He knew nobody would save him if Voldemort came crashing down on his house. Oh they might rescue him, but they won't save him. Sooner or later, Voldemort will find him, and since Harry has no training he will be damned. Harry clenched his fists in anger, the old Headmaster would not train him or educate him properly. That was for sure, but why? Why won't he do it.
Then he realized. The headmaster wanted Harry to sacrifice his life, like Lily's love, to save the world. And he knew this for sure. Everything made sense. He knew it was so.
He had to do something about this. Sitting in his bedroom, listening to Petunia teach Dudley how to play Fur Elise on the piano they bought, listening to the rain plattering on the window, he decided to do something about his situation.
So what could he do? Could he train himself in magic? Yes of course, but that would take way too long and he would never have the same proficency Voldemort has with magic. Never, not in a million years. Voldemort was a genius, and Harry was just an average boy, with maybe a hard character but that wasn't worth a damn in battle. What he needed was power. A phrase came to him suddenly, "There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." Voldemort had said this, and he was right.
Voldemort was probably one of the most powerful wizards on the planet and if this worked for him, why wouldn't it work for Harry himself? He realized it would, a startling discovery that brought him shivers. Not from the cold but from the feeling. Voldemort would call it the thirst for power.
Harry was on his way to becoming powerful.
The first thing Harry did was evaluating his situation. What he had and what he needed . He had a small fortune, and a few allies: The Weasleys, The Grangers, and the Press who were having a field day with saying how Harry struggled for the truth against bad opinion and what not. Now the press would do anything to get back on his good side. Harry grinned. He did seem to have a lot. But not enough. Never enough to beat Voldemort.
Voldemort was the epitome of power. What did he have? A group of disciplined death eaters, an army of giants, and various other creatures. And the money. The money just kept pouring in, Harry saw from his visions his death eaters were rich and powerful, they had money, more than Harry. Much more.
Voldemort had ten times more of what Harry had. More skill, more power, more money, etc.
What he needed was to reach the level of Voldemort. Become his equal in everything, not just blood. And for that he needed power.
The first thing Harry decided to do, to focus on was to increase his skill and magical power. He would never be Voldemort's equal if he couldn't survive the summer. For that he needed tutors, he needed to be able to do magic.
Harry grinned. He knew the answer to that. He had been receiving the Daily Prophet a lot lately, free editions. Once again proof that the press wanted to get back on his good side. Leafing through it he found out that the new minister of magic, recently elected, was Rufus Scrimgoer. That was his target. A man in that position of power could do wonders for Harry and Harry, with his Boy-Who-Lived image could do wonders back.
He grabbed an old sheet of parchment, Dudley's ballpoint pen, and scribbled a quick letter. Hedwig was getting restless in her cage. This would be good exercise for her.
Dear Mr. Scrimgoer,
My name is Harry Potter and I have been the target of death eater attacks all my life. I kindly request permission to do magic this summer, on accounts of this being a special case, and if possible to get tutors. I know that the minister, being much more reasonable than the last one, would readily help me out. The press would love to see the minister taking action against You-Know-Who, and if that means giving me some training, so much the better.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter.
He folded the note and clipped it on Hedwig's leg. The Snow white owl gave Harry a twinkle in her eye that showed her pleasure, hooted, and flew out into the grey sky. Harry shut the window quietly and went back on the bed, sitting cross legged in a meditative position.
He needed to be more physically fit as well, how could he survive if he couldn't dodge spells or give a punch or two as a quick surprise attack? He needed to learn how to fight, physically.
Now he had a good sized fortune, it wouldn't be so hard to find him a private tutor. And to get out of the Dursleys. Sometimes a good offence is the best defence. And sitting here twiddling his thumbs in the Dursleys house wasn't going to help him in the long run. He needed to get out.
For that he needed a plan. He checked outside and decided to risk going out the back door. There was a slight lump in the grass below the oak tree in the front lawn. Moody would never be so lazy, not the aurors either. It must be Mundungus Fletcher. Harry grinned, this was too easy.
He packed his trunk, not before taking out his invisibility cloak of course, and put the cloak on. He grabbed Hedwig's cage in the other hand as well, and went out the back door. There he was at a loss. Should he call the night bus? No, the guards might see. He ran out the back yard and through a back alley, made a few double turns, crossed back until he was at a completely different street: Ashvale Drive. He raised his wand and cried out, "Lumos."
The night bus came almost at once, a big purple Double Decker. He climbed aboard, saw it was Stan the knight bus watch man and said, "Hi," With a big grin. His scar was purposely left open. He needed to reek in the fame, use it to a good purpose. It was now or never.
Stan was a small unassuming man, the kind who would never make it into the big leagues. The kind who, like Arthur Weasely, had no ambition. Stan's eyes widened like golf balls as he gaped. "Bloody hell! You're Harry Potter."
"Yup, how much will it be to get to Gringotts, Stan?"
"For you, nothing. I always knew Voldemort was back. Never did believe the ministry and their lies…"
Harry smiled and walked to the back. His smile widened as he heard Stan shout, "I'll take you there straight away. Express trip!"
"Harry Potter is it?" A man said, he had small eyes that looked nervously back and forth and an unshaved beard. He was big.
"Yes I am," Harry said cautiously. "Who might you be?"
"Fenrir Greyback."
Harry's blood went cold. The werewolf! The death eater werewolf who bit Remus! He decided to do something so audacious, it would completely surprise the death eater and make give him pause before attacking him.
"Hello, Mr. Greyback. I have heard of you, of course. Quite a celebrity. Would you like to join me for a cup of cocoa?"
Fenrir raised his eyebrows.
"Oi, Ned, think you can get us two cups of cocoa?" Harry said, taking the silence as a tentative yes.
Ned came from up the bus deck, gaped when he saw it was Harry Potter, and quickly brought him two cups, steaming hot, "on the house."
When Ned left, still gaping, Harry turned his attention back to Greyback who had drained the cup in one gulp.
"You really know who I am, kid?" He said incredulously.
"Yes I do. You are a werewolf, and a death eater to boot. I want to hire you as my personal trainer."
Greyback was incredulous. "What?"
"I think you will be my best bet, I want you to train me in everything you know. Dirty fighting tricks, magic, et cetera et cetara."
"Are you out of your mind?"
"No. I will pay you handsomely of course if you leave Voldemort's service and. . . join mine."
Greyback roared with laughter. "You are an idiot! A complete fool if you think that you can just walk up to me and ask me to join you." He said you as if it was a curse.
"You want blood don't you?"
"I am not a vampire – a werewolf if you don't-"
"I know. I was saying figuratively."
"Why yes I do then," Greyback said proudly. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, it's so much the better. You can kill as much as you want. Death eaters that is."
Greyback laughed again.
Harry's eyes turned into chips of ice. "I am not kidding, Greyback." He snarled. "I am going straight to the top, you know it, I know it, and Voldemort knows it. In ten years time, the wizarding world will be in the palm of my hand. I will kill Voldemort, and once I do… I might just think of taking his place, if you know what I mean?"
Greyback gulped, looking nervous. "Look kid, I don't think you know-"
"No, you look. Once I win, you will be my top lutenient. My body guard. I will give you everything you want. More than Voldemort would ever give you. All you need to do is take the plunge." Harry stopped. Then he finished with a final sales pitch . "No risk, no gain." He shrugged and stared out the window, sipping his hot cocoa slowly.
Greyback stayed silent for sometime, then he finally said, almost as soon as the Knight Bus pulled to a stop in front of Gringotts, "Alright, kid. I'll do it."
Harry looked up at Greyback sharply. "It involves an unbreakable vow."
"How do you know about that stuff?"
"Hogwarts library."
"Okay, fine. I get it. You can't trust me right at once, you need a vow, huh?"
"Yes," Harry said simply. He turned to leave, but before he did, he looked back at Greyback. "You coming?"
"Yes," Greyback said slowly. "I think I will."
And that was how Fenrir Greyback and Harry Potter made an alliance. The first of many in Harry's rise to power.
Next chapter:
Fenrir followed Harry like a dog, in silence. He simply watched Harry withdrawing huge amounts of money with blank unreadable eyes. Harry found it a bit uncomfortable.
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