A/N I don't own anything you recognise. All else is mine.
Chapter 1The Birth of a Legend
Harry could feel that his journey through the shadows was nearing its end. Yet he felt a calm he didn't know he could as he realized the beginnings of the answer to his question.
Flashback
The full moon, now at its zenith reared in the distance while below him the writhing fiery inferno named the sun, set bringing with its departure dusk. The beach far below him was empty now from the endless stream of tourists. The seagulls called to each other sporadically. The soft warm breeze wafted his now tamed, silver shoulder length hair. The strong smell of the salted sea air refreshed his senses and cleared his thoughts as he gazed struck motionless, at the legendary scene unfolding before him. The setting sun had painted the heavens above in a myriad of awe-inspiring colours all intermingling, fusing, and mesmerizing him with the unfathomable grace and elegance of it all. This was Mother Nature unfolding and revealing what her world was supposed to be like. And it ignited a spark of rage that anyone no matter how mentally challenged would want to destroy this ethereal beauty. The advance of man in his technological endeavours was killing their planet. He knew without knowing how yet without a shadow of a doubt that this was but a miniscule amount of Natures true beauty. This was something that had to be preserved for all eternity not ravaged and decimated as man sought to get more land to build upon things that would barely stand for the next 500 years let alone the deceitful and ever-shifting sands of time. His rage however was washed away as he watched the stars above awake from their slumbers and twinkle down at him. He took in a deep breath taking in the smell of everything from the great salty ocean below him to the fresh sea air around him, and the jagged rocks protruding from the face of the cliff he sat upon.
Laying down Harry closed his eyes and for the first time since he could remember in his life of 230 years, he relaxed. Here his grief for the loss of his wife Ginny who had got brutally raped over and over by Daemon the Destroyer and his men before they finally let her die after a year of endless torture at the age of 50. Yet as witches and wizards lived much longer than muggles, she would have been classed in her early twenties. And the grief of his lost sons James Sirius Potter and Albus Severus Potter, who had both been covered in small but deep cuts from head to toe, their fingers and toes sawed off with a blunt dagger, their noses and ears ripped off by a pair of pliers, their eyes stabbed with nine inch rusted nails, their hair burnt out of their scalps at the age of 30 and 29 respectively. And the grief for his ravaged daughter Lily Potter...she was only 27...
The crushing guilt came out and took his breath away. After the death of Voldemort, Harry had no need to hide his feelings and emotions behind a mask, he had began trusting again, he began showing his emotions once again. It was that foolhardy trust that became his downfall. It was those treacherous feelings that became his weakness. After their death, he Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville had gone to retrieve the bodies of his family. They had not then realized that Daemon appreciated the destructive force of muggle weapons. Neville, Hermione and Luna had got gunned down to shreds in the first half hour of the mission. All he could remember after that was him summoning the bodies of his friends and family to him, his magic empowered by his grief had punched through anti apparition wards stronger than at Hogwarts as if they were non-existent. He couldn't remember how or when Ron died. He didn't know how anything had happened that night, everything was a blur. When he had appeared in Potter Manor the only thing that was in his head was a powerful cold voice telling him the one thing that gave him the power to annihilate Daemon and the others who came after him. The ten words that made him the greatest to ever walk the planet even though he despised the position. He had been given ten words that made him Harry the most respected and yet feared person on earth.
"Fools are those who wear their hearts on their sleeves."
Harry had lived by those words ever since. He didn't grieve for anyone. He didn't even bat an eyelid when the squad of 6 American Law Enforcement who had become his brothers in blood due to the battles they had been through together were slaughtered before him. They were under his command on a mission to raid Vespers supposed hideout. They ceased to exist right before his eyes as they were ambushed by more than ten times their number. He was 110 then. The word emotions had ceased to exist in his vocabulary. The world only saw a cold mask of indifference. His foes felt the controlled fury that decimated them. An hour later Harry was the only one to walk out of the building. He had glided calmly on silent feet his left arm from the elbow down in his right hand as if this were an everyday occurrence, riddled with bullet holes.
Yes here at this moment in time he could finally let his grief out. He could finally feel again. Silent tears leaked out from under closed eyelids as Harry Potter the greatest warrior alive cried openly for the first time in 190 years for the fallen. For his friends. For his family.
"Why do you weep child?"
"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled without looking to see who it was and whether he had hit them or not, as he shot up to his feet in less than a second, his fingers weaving in intricate and complex motions as he created a glowing dark miniature planetary system of orbs of death in his hands. This was his cliff no one knew of its existence but him and why had he not felt the vibrations in the air of this person's arrival. A small voice in his head wondered who the hell this was to call him a child he was 230 years old for fuck's sake.
"I am no foe child and I mean no harm." The speaker commented lightly his powerful voice laced with some hidden amusement. The speaker stood before Harry barely a yard away. Iridescent jet black shoulder length hair with an impossible silver sheen to it wafted in the gentle breeze as did his open fronted cloak revealing the so called damage of his severely overpowered sectumsempra. He should have been barely identifiable. Yet already healing were the scratches the curse had caused.
His many orbs of death grew in size and density, their gravitational pull beginning to uproot the few small clumps of yellowing grass that managed to snake through the rocky surface to grow in the warmth and light beyond.
He was no child. And he finally had a challenge...however as he flung the orbs of death he was confronted with something that shocked him worse. Nothing. And yet a cold voice resonated from all around him saying only one thing: "You cannot claim death till you find out why."
"Why?" That one question had been pondered for millennia yet was still unanswered...
End Flashback
That day was nigh 4720 years ago, it was now the year 7000 AD. The Raa twins had been helped 13,000 years ago in the midst of the rise of the Egyptian Empire. And now he was back. The shadows through which he travelled were thinning now. Harry Potter was back.
He alighted inside the same room from which he had been sent. Opening his now completely black orbs for eyes he saw its ancient walls still had jagged cracks running through them from millennia ago. And before him wreathed in the dancing shadows was the being who claimed to be he Harry himself.
" Why?" the one word rang in his ears and filled him with despair he could not answer it he didn't know. Apparently his silence was answer enough.
"There is no other timely manner left now. Come our past and your future beckons."
"No...i may not have answered that question but i know you are not me."
"Correct child you should have known before i sent you."
"Who are you?" putting aside his annoyance at being called a child whilst being 13,000 years old.
"Come you shall see." With that he turned tail in one swift movement. And stepped through an arch recently come into existence with a thick dark veil hanging below it. Harry knew that veil. It had plagued his nightmares for uncountable years.
The only thing running through his mind as he stepped through the Veil was a large Grim like dog.
"I come..." Harry whispered as his body told his mind that it was being clawed by uncountable hands both burning and frozen. His eyes closed as he fell lower and lower, a bark like laugh ringing in his ears all along. "I come...".
Planet Earth.
Year 1981 AD.
Godrics Hollow, Wales.
The ringing scream of a baby interrupted the ancient rite of creation in the master bedroom as a young woman flipped on a dressing gown, jumped in some slippers and flew out the room with her red hair fanning about her as her husband still tried to figure out what was happening.
"A man can't even get laid in peace." Slowly sitting up in bed his legs over the side and feet slipping into slippers, the man reached for his own gown only to hear his wife scream.
"Shit." Less than a second later the gown was knotted around his waist and he was in his sons room. the sight that greeted him nigh killed him. His wife was held in shackles of a dark writhing material up against the far wall. Before him were two men cloaked in shadows, who reeked raw, pure, ancient power in such intense levels it took his breath away. Between them and slightly behind sat the crib with his son who would turn one in the next week stood up his weight supported by the tiny fists clenching the rails of the crib.
"James-"
"No Lily, these do not work for him. They make him look like a little schoolgirl."
A soft chuckle escaped the unsmiling mouth on his right. This man appeared in his mid twenties, a face that was never clearly visible due to his aura of writhing shadows. Nothing could hide those cold eyes though. They were the eyes of power. Two cold, hard orbs of complete and utter molten silver for eyes with silver even where the whites should have been.
The other man froze when he heard the names. His eyes which were all black with not a speck of white that was natural glinted but with what he James knew not.
"You are correct child."
"Who are you?"
"You need not know just yet child. It is time. Blade."
The man with the black eyes withdrew a long and frighteningly sharp dagger from somewhere within his attire.
"Grab the babe and stand in the middle. Now you two are going to cooperate if you want your child to survive. I am an ancient and I live by the laws of the Old World. If you cooperate, by us your child shall not be harmed and nor shall anyone else my word you have...it will be kept." As a sign of good will Lily was released from her bonds sagged to the floor in relief. James rushed to her side checking her over for any wounds or injuries and surprisingly found nothing but perfect, pearly, unblemished skin that still held the warmth of their earlier activity.
"We are not doing anything unless we know who you are, what you want and what you are going to do" said James standing to his full height of 6 foot a look of resolute determination in his stance and fear in his eyes which by the second was being scraped away with the adrenaline one could only get from enjoying the thrill of a fight.
The self proclaimed ancient raised an arched brow at the comical stance.
"We are blood."
"What are you going to do to Harry."
"Make him a survivor, a warrior, a legend."
"Wh-"
"Enough" the first and only word spoken by the other stranger. Welded within that one word was power beyond reckoning. It made it impossible to disobey. And difficult beyond bearing to hold their footing and not be crushed against the wall as their breath was literally tore from their lungs.
"We are blood. We live by the laws of the Old world. You have our word of no harm to befall either of you three. Now do as you are told if you wish to see yourselves and your son wake on the morrow." Two shaky nods were his only response. No adrenaline in their bearing now only the stench of fear. Withdrawing the blade he made a cut along his right forearm before switching hands and replicating his actions on the other forearm. Then he did the same to young Harry who shockingly didn't scream from pain.
Lily started rocking on her feet whilst clenching onto her husband her eyes unblinking in morbid mesmerisation and fear. "You said no-"
"This will save your lives. This is no harm. Do it." With that he tossed the blade to James who after seeing the blood drip from his sons arms quickly made the incisions. Time could not be wasted. His son could die. Lily did the same before the dagger flew out of her hands into the hands of the man who had spoken first. He slit his forearms as the others before him. His companion knelt now with the babe in his lap. Laying his left over the babes right and his right over his companions left just as his companion laid the babes left forearm over his right, the man nodded the young couple over.
"Cross both your arms and drip the blood onto our link. We will tell you when to stop."
And so Harry Potter, the babe who would grow to be the boy who lived, the babe who would grow to be the Chosen one, the babe who would grow to be a saviour of the light...became a legend.
Harry James Potter was now dead.
A Legend was born...
