LORD OF LIGHT
CHAPTER-1
Harry was lost in thought.
It was his only refuge, after all, being forced to work as a slave for his Aunt and Uncle, being forced to live in a small, dark, dark cupboard.
He remembered the day two years ago, when he had been five, when his parents had left him at the Dursley's doorsteps.
"We love you so much," Lily had said, her crocodile tears glistening on her cheeks, "but we cannot look after you and train Chris at the same time. It's already too much that we have to make him train at this age. I wouldn't bear it if you had to live the same life- growing up as a soldier in a war that was supposed to have ended before you grew up. Be good for me, please, honey." She never returned, not even to check on him.
And he had been good. He hadn't spoken up when he had been treated as a human house-elf, forced to do all the work around the house, forced to look at the family even as they enjoyed the fruits of his hard work, his toil. The only reason Vernon didn't hit him was that it would raise too many questions.
Dudley, however, was an entirely different matter.
His punches and kicks could be passed off as "friendly arguments", even if he had been asked to do so by his whale of a father.
A punch knocked him out of his reverie.
As he lay on the ground, he looked up to see a furious Petunia and her husband, and a gleeful looking Dudley, cracking his fists right above him.
"You burnt our breakfast! How dare you, you ungrateful freak!"
As if on cue Dudley launched his fists, pummelling him.
It was at that moment that something unimaginably powerful built up inside him, flowing like a river, from his stomach, through his chest and releasing itself to the external world through the poor boy's eyes.
The Dursley family watched in fear as a bright light shined out his eyes, revealing a power of cosmic levels flowing out of the poor boy that they had tortured so cruelly and utterly without reason.
They regretted it even as their eyes burnt, exploding into flames sending them into the perdition they deserved.
Soon after the incident, a trench coated man appeared, taking up the unconscious, small child and disappearing instantly. He barely missed a man with a flowing silver beard and an eccentric taste in clothing.
James hurried towards the door of the Potter manor as soon as he heard Dumbledore's secret knock.
He opened the door, smiling, trying to welcome the man who was like a grandfather to him, the kindly old Dumbledore.
That was not what met him that day.
He was unable to believe the amount of rage that flew off from the man that everyone loved.
"Do you know what you've done?"
James was confused. He didn't know he had done anything wrong.
"You told me that you had left Harry in a safe place. Where he would not be hurt. And what do I discover? You had dumped that poor child on the Dursley's doorsteps! And you didn't even warn me enough to draw wards! So, guess what happened, you fool? He was kidnapped! The Dursley's murdered, not that they didn't deserve it!"
"What do you mean they deserved it?"
Admittedly, James didn't like the Dursley's much, in fact, he would have very much preferred to not have heard that name ever in all his life. However, they were his wife's relatives, and what Dumbledore told him, recently deceased. He wouldn't have their name sullied if he could help it.
"They abused him, James. They made him in a cupboard under the stairs! Made him work like a goddamn house elf!"
With his outburst finished and James sufficiently turned into a stuttering mess, Dumbledore's anger receded back to the cool rage that so many people around the world were afraid of.
He would make sure that the Potters regretted it for the rest of their lives if even a hair on Harry Potter's head had been harmed.
Blinding light pierced his world when he opened his eyes.
He was in a small, dreary motel room. It was rather shabby looking, with two beds, a fridge, a TV.
He almost missed the two men standing over him.
Almost.
"Cas! The kid's awake!"