Hey everyone!

IF YOU HAVE STORY ALERTED THIS PLEASE GO BACK TO THE FIRST CHAPTER! IT HAS BEEN RE-EDITED INTO THE PROLOGUE

I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter one for you! there have been some edits, but not as many as the prologue I don't think. I hope you enjoy it!

This chapter contains implied rape and child abuse. Will contain slash later.

Onwards!!!!!............

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"I am no longer Harry Potter, but," he paused "Mirran Sage, and I vow to keep my heart to myself and get strong! Stronger than everyone so no-one can ever hurt me anymore! I will not be the fly any longer!"

On that night four year old Harry Potter died……and five year old Mirran Sage was born.

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Chapter 1

FOUR YEARS LATER……

Mirran Sage was nine. He didn't expect any presents, nor any congratulations. The fact that the Dursley's were going out for the day was enough. He stood on the stairs holding a pile of dirty clothes, trying not to grin as they got ready to go out. Dudley Dursley was already outside jumping up and down. From where Mirran was standing Dudley looked somewhat like a peach inflatable beach ball. He snorted at that thought.

Aunt Petunia stalked past him out to Dudley and gave him a chocolate bar before patting him on the head and getting into the car. Mirran winced as the boy ate it in one mouthful. 'No nine year old should look like that' he thought, then sighed. 'Then again no nine year old should look like me either' he winced.

Mirran Sage was much too short for his age, and probably would always be, because of his malnourishment. It was a fact that irked him no end. Not just was it ridiculous to be a short boy, but it put him at a great disadvantage. He couldn't physically defend against any of his Uncle's attacks; neither could he magically defend himself. Although he had been training and found almost no limit to the things he could do, there was a serious limit on the amount of time he could do them for, and amount of power he could push into them, because of his small stature.

He had been working on a way to surpass this problem and felt he was close. As soon as he found the answer he would be strong enough to leave this hell hole once and for all. Mirran's hair was long, because of his Aunts refusal to take him to a hairdressers and Mirran's own magical protests at her cutting it. He had been beaten soundly for it but his Aunt had never tried again. It fell down to his waist now and daily brushings infused with magic kept it silky and smooth. Thick bangs framed his face hiding his scar and deep Emerald eyes stared out of a pale chiselled face with full red lips. Mirran Sage was a beautiful boy. It hadn't taken his Uncle long to realise it.

At the age of eight his Uncle had taken one of the few things Mirran had left. His innocence. Mirran had fought with everything that he had, but it still wasn't enough. He was much too small to keep up any sort of long term resistance, and his attempts had only angered his Uncle further. Thinking back to his promise to no longer be the fly in his Uncles web pained him. It seemed being strong wasn't easy, but he was making progress and he had to hope that it would one day be enough.

Once his Uncle had finally succeeded in taking his innocence it had lead to many repeats of the incident and Mirran often preferred to sink his mind into his magical core to forget what was happening. A finger on his cheek brought him back to today's reality.

"Now then, your list is on the fridge, I want all the chores done by the time we get back tomorrow morning." Mirran winced and flinched away. Uncle Vernon leered "See you tomorrow, I'm going to miss you tonight." Mirran scowled and Uncle Vernon laughed, then left slamming and locking the door behind him.

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Mirran stood completely still watching the door where his Uncle had left. His magic was swirling about under his skin and he could taste his own anger. That seemed to be almost the only emotion he had left. To most other things he was completely indifferent. Only the thirst for knowledge and accomplishment brought any sort of emotion out of him, and even then it was only a smug sense of satisfaction, of power, being better than others.

Mirran turned and made his way to the washing machine. He dumped the dirty washing inside and switched it on. Walking back to his cupboard he took out one of the many books he had hidden there from various trips to the library round the corner while the Dursleys were out. Mirran had knowledge on a great number of things, his knowledge was deeper in some areas than others. At the moment, he was reading human anatomy, in an attempt to discover how he could use his magic to its full potential without tiring himself out so quickly.

Turning to his marker in the book Harry began to read. After finishing the book and absorbing as much knowledge as he could Harry settled himself into a medative position and sank down into his magical core.

His Core was a vast green ball of energy hanging in an empty black space. When Harry had first found it properly during a medative trance he had been shocked and unable to do much with it. After years of practice he had discovered that his Core was linked inexplicably to his mind and so it was as if he brought his conscious down with him or his Core up.

Other discoveries had happened quite by accident, such as when he had imagined that he had a chair to sit in, and suddenly one had appeared. It had not been of any great detail, a basic chair shape with no other distinguishing features. Mirran had tried imagining an armchair instead, with floral upholstery and found that the chair changed to appear as he imagined.

It took a lot of practice to hold the correct image in his mind, since not just did he have to correctly imagine the look of whatever he was making, down to the final detail, but also the texture, smell or taste to make it work.

He had discovered that it was possible to make natural as well as man-made objects, it was possible to make animate and inanimate things. It had taken up countless nights to build his Mindscape up to what it was now, but it had been well worth it.

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Sinking down slowly into his Core Mirran's face became slightly more relaxed. He hung in the black waiting. Suddenly a door appeared, Mirran opened it and his conscious passed through. When on the other side he concentrated and formed a body for himself, stepping forwards along what looked like a corridor. Opening the next door on the right he moved into a room that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

The room was huge, with doors, windows, stairs and mirrors everywhere.

Mirran was pleased with how confusing it had turned out. Strange stone soldiers lined the walls each holding various deadly weapons. Holes in the floor were actually fire vents that spouted fire were you to step on them. It was a very secure defence and all the doors in sight had locks on them.

Mirran was certain that his defence was necessary, as although he'd never met another witch or wizard, he was under no illusion that he knew much about them and so he could not be sure what they were capable of. His mind was precious to him, it housed way too many secrets and he did not want to be forced to give them up.

Mirran turned his head up and sang 'itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out, the sun came out and dried up all the rain, but itsy bitsy spider had drowned all the same.'

As he finished the rhyme a staircase descended from the roof of the room. Mirran got on it and the staircase retracted into the ceiling, closing so that there was no evidence there had ever been a hole.

Stepping off the now flat staircase Mirran stretched and walked forwards laying his hand on a small white gate. Before him lay a typical cottage, whitewashed and covered in greenery. A small garden path led up to the door and a small nameplate by the door read. 'Sanctuary'.

The house itself was stood on what appeared to be a large flat expanse of prairie, with wild lavender and Hollyhocks. The sun shone down and Mirran let out a breath. This was the last of his innocence, his optimism, his generosity and kindness, his emotions. This small green area in his mind was the only thing that had not yet been taken from him, and he guarded it jealously.

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It was late, almost dark and Mirran was still sat on the floor of the living room. He wasn't moving and if you didn't look really closely you'd think he wasn't breathing either. Suddenly he opened up his eyes the bright emerald green was shining with power and satisfaction.

"So that's how," he whispered "Instead of pushing my magic out through my body, I have to let my magic float out my body and surround me itself and then manipulate that. That way I don't strain myself," he murmured. 'there are still the obvious limits of age, ability and knowledge of course,' he mused in his thoughts 'But I'm easily capable of defending myself now' he got up doing some routine stretches to ease the stiffness of meditation.

Clapping his hands he breathed deeply, and even any muggle would swear at that moment that a deep green glow surrounded the boy, curling and lashing in all directions as if an untameable creature waiting to be set free. Freedom is exactly what Mirran planned on giving it.

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I hope you enjoyed the re-write of this. I have changed quite a lot and added much more details. The first version of this story was written so long ago I felt it was quite childish and so now I hope I have made it a bit less so. I'd very much like to hope that you enjoyed this chapter and are interested in the technical explanations of magic and occulemency that will hopefully follow!

Feel free to review with ideas toward technical explanations or suggestions. Thank you!!

Colour-chan x.X