Well, If I don't write it, This particular thing is going to circle my head again,again and again. It's disrupting my mood, my life. So on it goes.
Any who wishes to co-write or add even a single chapter is welcome.
This is not a story of famous Harry potter. No,No,it's not dearies! It is the story of Rowan Ravenperch. Or Raven Rowanperch? It doesn't matter that no one remembers his name. It also doesn't matter in a story of about hundred thousand words, only fifty are about him. Even so, this is the story of Rowan or Raven, not Harry potter.
You see, he is born to a certain Billy stubbs and Amy Dawson. His father died in the war, his mother seduced the man that informed her of his death. Unlike Harry Potter who's own aunt and uncle hated him, Rowan's stepfather doted on him. He did not even bat an eye when found his adopted son is a wizard. Rowan went to Hogwarts, and promptly skidded fell on Tom Riddle at his sorting, Tom's slytherin head boy badge imprinting rather firmly on Rowan's forehead smack in the middle. Never mind he did not even register in Tom Riddle's remotest mental periphery. Rowan has the mark till to day.
But that's all over and done with, Rowan hadn't thought about in like fifty odd years. Yet, when he read the prophesy of boy who lived, he immediately knew it's not Harry Potter that's in the prophesy. It's him. It is he who is supposed to be the one who vanquishes the dark lord. You see, he worked in Ministry cleaning department, not just any cleaning department, the one that cleans department of Mysteries, the highest you can reach among Janitors. Imagine his surprise when he stole a time turner one day with full intention of being arrested for it and finally, finally achieving some form of fame, then that very night boy who lived trashes the entire time room.
Rowan can not forgive it. He has worked tirelessly towards his goal of achieving infamy, yet bloody boy who lived breaks it all on a whim. He will get his due. Obviously, it stood to reason that endeavor takes few years to be thought of and planned. After all, Rowan thought slow, acted even more slowly. Yet, looking at the prophesy, he could not contain his anger. Sodding Harry potter stole his fame. This can not go unanswered. So, he did the first rash thing in his life, and used the time turner he stole from the ministry to go to the night Harry is attacked.
No, he is not going to kill Harry Potter. He is not Tom. He is better. You see, when Rowan is just out of Hogwarts, he figured the best way to achieve fame is opening a wand shop. After all, every wizard needs wand, thus every one knows the wand maker. So, he apprenticed under Ollivander. Thus, he knew the secret that no wand maker guarded as jealously as a dragon guarded her eggs. The most powerful wand a wizard can use is always made with his own hair or blood. The downside is there is no off switch on his wand. If one were to attempt a task that's too much for their magic, the wand allows all the magic to be applied to the task, draining his core and killing the wizard.
When Ollivander realized Rowan had no compunctions against making such wands, in fact, making one such for him self, he promptly threw him out after wiping his memory. How ever, Rowan made notes with in notes, one such note survived, thus he knew how to make this wand. His plan is simple. Make one such wand, leave it in hands of child Harry potter. Sooner or later, he will use the wand for some thing too big and die on his own. It's simple, and brilliant. If only it worked out that way.
Rowan has arrived at the scene exactly when he thought he will, but he only had time to collect his materials, hair and blood of the child, father and mother's little finger bones. He had to flee, for the infamous Sirius Black arrived at the scene. Rowan was sure he will finish the job his lord started. Imagine his surprise when he read news next day and brat who lived is still living just fine. Thus, Rowan made his little wand for the brat. Now, he wanted to get the wand to the hands of the brat, but he soon discovered that is neigh impossible.
Then he had his most brilliant idea. The boy went to live with muggles. He knew the general area of where the boy lived. The wand he made is small, too small to be put in toys section. Thus, he put it in a tooth pick box, cast strongest and simplest compulsion on it for the muggles harboring Harry potter. After all, they are muggles. How long can they resist such powerful magic? It seems, the answer is very very long.
It must be said, Petunia's resistance to the compulsion is not just extraordinary, but downright a miracle. Such resistance to mental magic in muggles is more than admirable. At last, it's not petunia who caved in, but Vernon. He visited the grocery store that is out of their way by fifteen miles to just buy a toothpick box. Had it been any time but Christmus, Petunia would have immediately doubted there is some thing wrong with this particular box and would have thrown it out. As such, it's christmus, she could imagine the rush that will be at all the groceries, thus put the box right beside their meal. She did not realize she is drinking more than she normally does. Or that Vernon is drinking far more than he normally does.
Young Harry Potter is adequately scared of approaching his aunt and uncle. How could he not with the thrashing he got when he asked his aunt for a birthday present. Yet, this is christmus, and every one got a present at christmus. His cousin got thirty presents and he already broke his toy soldier. If he put that near aunt Petunia, may be she will give it to him when he asked for a present. After all, some times his aunt hugged and kissed him when she drank funny smelling juice. He had to be brave, for a chance like this will not arrive ever again. Thus, Harry approached his aunt carefully.
"Aunt Petunia, May I have a present too?" he asked, giving a meaningful glance to broken toy soldier.
Vernon hiccuped.
"Here Boy, Why don't you have this for a present?" he asked as he swung his fist. It sailed right below Harry's stomach. Vernon over balanced and fell from his chair. Harry scurried away to avoid being crushed by his uncle's bulk. Petunia pointed at Vernon and giggled. Harry repeated his plea. Petunia looked around to see why the boy is so insistent. She is a shrew even when drunk. Her eyes soon fell on the broken Toy soldier. Aha! So that's what the boy wanted. Thinking him self oh so clever, by putting a broken toy near them and all. Lily was like that too. Thinking her self oh so clever, with her wand and rats in her pockets and her easy smiles. Oh no, she will not give the boy what he wanted. She will do one better.
She will give him a wand that doesn't work. After all, once he knew it's a wand, he will only try to his freak things only with a wand. She knew their wands must be made all special and all. Some thing about unicorn tails and all. Ha! As if the unicorns are real. She's loosing it. Wait a minute. A toothpick! Now a toothpick will never work like a wand. She knew. The wooden stick her sister got is all fancy, bought at a special place. So, Petunia grabbed the ugliest toothpick she can see, one which looked like chicken bone with hair stuck in it.
"Here! A present. A magic wand, fit for a freak. Now, Scat!" she handed him the tooth pick, waved him threateningly off in the direction of his cupboard.
Harry knew as soon as he received the present it's special. It's a special wand exactly like Aunt petunia said. He did not want to loose his special present to Dudley by any means, so he scampered as fast as he can in to his cupboard.
"Become big." he waved his wand at his cupboard.
His cup board grew. It grew to be as big as Dursley's living room and it kept growing.
Harry's smile couldn't be more brilliant.
He kept waving his magic wand again and again, ordering it to do make his bed big, fluffy, his room warm, flowers to grow from corners, light to shine , to display fireworks, make a toy soldier dance, steal cake from right under Dudley's nose, then some more. For the first time after he came to live with his aunt and uncle, Harry slept in warm room, fluffy bed, with a cuddly toy and full belly. He never felt more loved, he was never more happier.
Some where in Scotland a scale re-arranged to increase the power ten folds.