Author note: Hello once again. Thanks for the reviews and comments people, was not expecting the reviews to be so positive. So thanks guests, fan's, TheBlackSeaReaper of course and AmaltheaLuchiaAizen for your praise and reviews! Now some of you might be interested to know that I plan on starting another fic from my Second Idea, I plan to name the fic 'The Demon Son of Zero' and hopefully the prologue will be done soon after I finish writing the second chapter of Hidden (This Chapter). So for anyone interested keep an eye out. Also a little warning, this chapters going to have Harry bashing his family either in his head or out loud. Anyone who read a Harry potter book or fic shouldn't have a problem though; after all they are one of the worst families ever!
Beta-reader:TheBlackSeaReaper and Jiyle
Narrator section:
MummifiedGazzadcs: Welcome Back!
TheBlackSeaReaper: HOLY!…what happened to you?
MummifiedGazzadcs:*Twitch* never Ever keep candy from anything Pink!
TheBlackSeaReaper:…You got beat up by Tonks didn't you?
MummifiedGazzadcs:*Eyebrow Rapid Twitch*
TheBlackSeaReaper:*Giggle* Well, anyways hope you enjoy the new instalment of Hidden in Plain Sight!
MummifiedGazzadcs: It's Not Funny!
Disclaimer:Copy and paste, best tool ever invented!
I do not own Bleach; Harry Potter or any associated characters or fictional locations. Now to get started again!
"I'm bored" This was a thought that Harry James Potter, officially ten years as of today, thought a lot. Every day it was the same thing, get up, cook enough food to make him want to puke, for his fat ar*e family to stuff themselves like a Christmas turkey, eat the left over ingredients ("Surprisingly" he thought "there's usually a lot, thanks to that I'm not a skinny kid"), get dressed in his cupboard and leg it to school, where, once again he is late ("Uncle you rat, taking your little spawn and leaving me high and dry again!"), get yelled at and receive complaints about why he wasn't more like his cousin ("Who the hell would want to be like Him!"), and finally take my seat, listen to my teacher ramble on and repeating lectures which he's already heard, as well as some things he's read years ago. ("Reading from the library becomes a habit when it's the best hiding spot from your cousins 'Harry Hunting' game" Harry thought, as he heard the teacher speak)
So he was officially bored, and wondering if he should change his teacher's hair colour again ("I was a bit of an idiot not to notice odd things happening when I was bored or distracted, when I was younger" Harry thought to himself). But decided against it. He usually got beaten by his uncle for doing stuff like that. And while it might get his blood pumping, he didn't like being locked in a cold, dark cupboard until the walrus remembered he was there. Maybe he would just have a nap, it's not like anyone would care. Yes a nap sounded good right about now ("Thanks for the bedtime rambling, Teacher" Were his last thought's as the teachers speech brought him to slumber)
*Ring Ring* "What!" His head shot up, and he realized that he was the last person in the room. Which means his teacher's daily apple is left unguarded. ("Lucky me, something extra for lunch" he thought as his stomach growled in hunger). He snatched it from the tall desk and began munching on his newly-acquired lunch, which included half of a chicken sandwich, that he had managed to hide from Big and Bigger ("All that lard must be bad for the brain" he thought mockingly).
After eating his fill, he began heading towards the library to pass the time, and most likely skip last period ("God I hate maths, if I needed to learn what X times Y and divide Z meant I would go to a bloody high school! At least they would make it more interesting!" He was becoming frustrated with all the extra work his maths teacher kept giving him). He may have hated the subject, but the worst part was that he was good at it. He was always seemed to get straight A's, even when he skipped all the time and tried to fail! ("But complaining about that would only give me a headache, so let's just read something" Potter thought as he began rubbing his temple to ease the growing pain)
After a quick hello to the librarian, who just shushed him like normal, he went looking for something cool to read. After a while, he came along a book, that simple had 'Samurai: Soul within the blade' written on the cover. Once realizing that he had not read this book before ("Well that's a surprise, I had thought I had ran out of books to read" he thought humourlessly), he quietly took the book off of the shelf and went to sit in the corner, out of sight from the entrance and the librarian ("Luckily, little Dudley's minions wouldn't be caught dead in the library. Don't see why, they couldn't get smarter no matter what they try!" Mentally Laughed Harry, do you want him to get kicked out of the library for laughing out loud?). After a quick shake of the head and wondering if he was going mad, he sat down and began to read.
*Thirty Minutes Later*
Harry was, for once, excited. The thought of the battles these samurai had, blade against blade, strength, power, speed, honour, bloodlust - all the different skills used against one another other in battle. Just thinking of such glorious battles was making his blood sing! If he was in the right state of mind, he may have noticed that he was glowing a pale yellow. He may have also noticed that the librarian had collapsed to the floor, as if the gravity on earth had increased tenfold. But even if he did notice, he was in too high from the book and yellow energy to care. Even the battles about samurai against ninja seemed fun, where only a little prick of a blade could mean victory. Oh, how he wished he had been alive back in that day and age. That single thought ruined his entire mood. Erasing the glow and allowing the librarian to stand once again. He felt upset and weak. In this time, battle was won with explosives and vehicles; no one fought long battles, one-on-one anymore. It was an all-for-one and one-for-all type of world now, and that just seemed boring to him. He was back to square one.
*After School at the Dursley's Perfect Home*
Here he was, stuck in the hellhole known as Number four, Privet Drive, Little Winging. A home idealized by the neighbours for its flowers and appearance. It was all a lie, of course. That was just what the Dursleys believed the people thought of them. In actuality, they thought of them as snobbish and arrogant fools. Especially when harry was the only one seen doing any work on the house and garden. His Aunt Petunia just made it worse by trying to take credit for it. It was kind of funny seeing the neighbours just nod their heads in agreement while sending me pitying looks. And yet, the entire family was oblivious.
He leaned his back onto the door of his cupboard and laughed quietly at how idiotic the house residents were. The only reason Child Services hadn't been called in was due to the fact that any injures he had healed by the morning, which meant the only evidence the neighbours had of child abuse was the cupboard, the yelling, and him doing all the chores. And due to the fact that most of this happened inside the house, most of it wasn't known.
*Slam* "God damn it, another promotion lost." Ah, it seemed the big guy failed to get his promotion again.
He wondered when he would realize that it was his own fault that he didn't get the promotion. It was like he doesn't realize that by making the new employees do most of his work for him, he was giving the promotion to them on a silver platter. It's too funny how he admits it's his own fault and yet still tries to place the blame on others in his frustration ("Oh…Crap!" He thought and he realised the implications of that).
He just realized that the blame is going to be placed on him. Not because there's no one else to blame, more to the fact that his wife and son are not here, which means he won't be able to get rid of his frustration by moaning how the world isn't fair. This would lead to him getting rid of it the same way his son does when he fails in class: by 'Harry Hunting'.
"FREAK GET OUT HERE!" He could practical hear the spittle flying from his whiskered face and rebounding off the door. To be honest, the most his uncle had ever been able to do to him was bruise him, simple because he's all fat and no muscle. Harry decided he might as move, since while he found it funny that his uncle was failing to break the lock, it wouldn't be long before he realized he had a key in his pocket.
As soon as he stepped out of his 'room', he received a blow to the back of his head that felt more like he'd been hit by a newspaper instead of a fist. It wasn't long before he realized he was meant to be acting as if he was hurt, so he rolled into a ball and laid on the ground. His uncle soon decided to change tactics and began kicking instead of punching. He was getting kicked by oversized boots again and again, which did in fact hurt! ("When the hell did he buy bloody steel toe caped boots!" he thought after a sharp pain lanced through his back) It was only when he realized that the pain was becoming agony that he realized that he had to start fighting back before it got any worse. With that thought in mind, he jumped and ploughed his small knuckled fist into his cubby face. The look of shock on the walrus's face quickly changed to rage, he could already see a bruise forming were he had hit.
Harry was beginning to have fun. His uncle couldn't keep up with his smaller, faster form, allowing him to rain blow after blow on his hide. The look of rage on his uncle's face was quickly becoming fear, fear of him - the Freak of the family! He couldn't hold back his laughter - this was so much Fun! "Aha Aha AHAHAHAHAHA" He smelt pee and realized his uncle was scared of him laughing. Of all things, laughing was what he feared?
What Harry did not realize was, if he saw the look on his face aimed at him, he would of felt screwed as well. The grin on his face looked like it belonged on a serial killer. The yellow glow had returned, the singing in his blood, the faint voice in the background and the increase of gravity on everyone but him. His uncle collapsed onto his back, unable to move. Harry just laughed louder and began pounding him repeatedly. But after a while, he calmed down and realised something: the fat guy had fainted from a little bit of pain.
(Vernon's thoughts during the beating)
The freak is scaring me. He was grinning ever since I bashed his freakish head to the ground. Even when he was curling up in to ball, he was grinning, and it just keep getting bigger the more I kicked him. I got these boots to hurt the freak, not make him happy! The freak Hit me, the little brat. How did he get so fast and strong? He should be weak and pitiful from how much we starve him, how could a ten year old hurt me like this! I'm going to die, the freak's gone insane and I'm going to die. It's glowing and laughing and hitting me. I can't move, it's so heavy. It hurts me, I'm going to die. Everything is going dark…
The fun never lasts long. He looked down at his uncle's broken, bleeding face and slowly heaving chest. He body was bruised and in pain from kicks he had delivered, but he couldn't forget the joy he had from the short duel. "If only my uncle was stronger I could have enjoyed it longer". Harry grinned, thinking about how fun it would be to fight stronger opponents when he suddenly started to feel cold and itchy around his chest. He looked down and saw a piece of metal sticking clean through. As the world started to go dark, his grin became larger. His head turned and looked straight into the shocked eyes of his aunt. "Nice hit…" And that's when everything went dark.
Petunia looked down at the body that had a metal poker shoved through it and realized how screwed her family was. No matter how anyone looked at this it, it would be the adults fighting and killing the child in their rage. The freak would ruin her perfect family, even after death. It was all over, and her perfect house, perfect family, and perfect life was gone. And that was when the freak started screeching, or more accurately, his scar did. Blood started to leak from her ears as a black spectre rose from the boy before flying through her. It felt like she had lost something she could never get back. And with that, she fell into a coma, never to awaken.
Whilst she slept, the spectre ran but didn't get very far. Before it could even leave the garden, thick black chains bound it into place. The door to Hell had appeared to claim the complete soul of Voldemort, who was no longer free from the chains of fate, as he had believed. The true death of Voldemort would never be known. Like so many things, it would stay hidden while the people would believe what they wished to believe.
(Eighth District of the North Ally of Rukongai)
A young boy that appeared to be around the age of ten began to awaken. The boy had long messy black hair that seemed to spike in every direction, jade green eyes, wore a pale brown yukata, and was barefoot. Lying next to him was a sword. The sword was thin and taller than the boy, but the blade seemed old, rusted and breaking on one the side of the length. The blade's sheath was covered in bandages, as was the handle.
As the boy awoke, he looked around confused and could only think of two things.
"Who am I? And what can I do to for fun around here?"
Narrator section:
Fully healed Gazzadcs: Thanks for r
TheBlackSeaReaper: How are you healed already? You were a mummy!
Gazzadcs: I was offered a bean from a guy with spiky gold hair and a monkey tail. Wouldn't let me have any food though, stingy monkey.
TheBlackSeaReaper: You have no idea how lucky you are, do you?
Gazzadcs: How am I luc*Bang*Hey Kenny's come to play! (Tonks)Who wants a fight! (Kenny?)….*Gulp* BYE! *Run's away again* Kenny he wants to play Tag! Here I COME!
TheBlackSeaReaper: He better fix the wall once he's done….Anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter *Waves*
