Harry Potter/Lucy (Kaede)
Disclaimer: Neither of the stories belongs to me.
Warning: Contain violence, language, and lot of death (possible implied sex scenes in the future)
What if Harry Potter learned to control magic before he was trained to be submissive? "Abandoned" by Vernon Dursley in Kamakura at the age of six, Harry is not worried at all. He can protect himself. The young girl with pink hair and horns doesn't seems to be able to though. Hmmm…Seeing that she isn't part of the human that he hated wholeheartedly, he would tolerate and protect her…for the time being.
Kaede always knew she was different, unique. Now if she can only just prove that to the new boy at the orphanage…
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Author Comment: First of all, I love y'all. Hugs and kisses for those who reviewed. Thank you, I really did appreciated it. Whenever I am thinking of slacking off, those reviews just kinda reminds me of the faithful readers that are waiting not-so-patiently and prompted me to continue by squeezing time out of my senior finals preparations. I tries to personally reply all reviews except individuals that have close off their private messaging functions, so I do seriously read through everyone's responses. If you see any errors or have any questions, state it in your review and I will do my best to answer/correct them. If there are any specific particular scenes you really want to see, inform me and if it can go along with my storyline, I can make that happen.
Next,
Harry is finally back!! …although he will be leaving soon…So totally not my fault though, blame it on Dumbles!!
Sorry if it's a little late. I was busy typing five-paged essay for one of my AP class.
Best read along with The reason by Hoobastank in Youtube. Enjoy.
Review you all. Whenever I found fifty valid reviews, I'm automatically going to renew a chapter to show appreciation for your support.
Chapter 3
Nothing as ever puzzled Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt as much as the boy-who-lived.
Again and again, Harry Potter has proven himself to be an enigma that Shacklebolt just can't seem to understand, much less than solve.
The Order of Phoenix was created and led by Dumbledore, the strongest wizard of the era and the only one who he-must-not-be-named feared, with the purpose of fighting the dark side and restore peace. Every members that are deeply involved were carefully chosen as trustworthy and capable wizards or witches that are entirely dedicated to the cause. Shacklebolt was no exception. He has been honored and humbled to be offer a position of the secret resistance when he has just graduated from Hogwarts and, of course, he had immediately accepted and have been placed into the ministry of magic as a possible information source.
Those were such dark times. Everyone is suspicious of each other, not knowing where death eater lies in waiting. Every day, devastating news came one after another. Shacklebolt could just close his eyes right now and recall the days filled with despair and panic vividly in his mind. Fear was so tangible that he can almost taste it. The grim mood was both stifling and overwhelming. No one is safe, nowhere is safe. But the Order never gave up. They have a duty, to each other, to their family, to the wizarding world.
Shacklebolt release a shaky breath just from remembrance.
Over the years, he learned to trust and place his life on the wise headmaster's hand. There are no reason not to trust the old man who can play the game of deception like no other because all he do, he do for the greater good and he is damn good at his games. Shacklebolt is willing to die if it mean that it can benefit the wizarding world that he so dearly loved and are completely unfazed about any sacrifices he may have to made if it can help in the slightest for his beloved country to escape the evil crutches of the dark lord. That belief has earned him a position in the inner circle within the Order and brought him many info and leverages that remain confidential to most members.
He understood what was necessary.
Harry Potter's childhood was one of such necessity.
The Chosen One must be broken before it is possible to mold him into the perfect weapon against the dark lord. He pitied him, he really did. But it cannot be helped. In the face of the greater good, sacrifices must be made. By ruining this one child's life, they are saving countless of others. It is worth it.
It doesn't help that Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the privileged group that has heard of the prophecy.
When Dumbledore was unsure, he was the one who reassured him that they are doing the right thing. The night they led Voldemort right to where James, Lily, and their newborn child was necessary. It was a risk, but a risk that they must take. They needed him to mark one of the child as equal so the prophecy will come true. If not Harry, then Neville. So many people were dying, they were the only hope.
Shacklebolt still have nightmare about it to this day. Both James and Lily were such good persons. They were his comrades and friends. Yet…he knew as well as Dumbledore did that there is a traitor among their little group. He knew Snape was standing outside when they listen to the prophecy. He knew their family is about to be attacked.
He never spoke up.
Shacklebolt don't think he ever quite forgive himself for that. Guilt will always weight heavily in his heart. He suppressed a sigh.
But it was the right thing to do.
It is not the first nor the last guilt he must bear toward the Potter family.
He was there when Dumbledore placed the compulsion charm into Harry Potter, weaving the need to love and care into the sleeping baby's very soul with shaking hands, knowing exactly that they are condemning him into a life of misery.
It really cannot be helped.
They need to show him a choice. The more resemblance the young savior's childhood has to the dark lord's. The more powerful and assured he will be in their confrontation. They all have a choice. After all, the boy who lived didn't turned dark from the same type of treatment he-who-must-not-be-named suffered from. It will confirm his belief and give him no chance to waver from understanding the dark lord's story and reason for what he do.
After all, he have a choice like any other and chose to condemned himself.
But of course, a choice cannot be really offered. They cannot afford to have another muggle-hating powerful dark lord running around.
With the web of impulsion woven into his being, Harry will have no choice but to love and care no matter what others do to him. Have no choice but to feel guilty from any form of disapprovement. Have no choice but to bear the fate of the world on his shoulder because he cannot not care.
Harry Potter's right of choice are stripped from the moment he proved to be the Chosen one the prophecy speaks of.
The guilt is there, but the reassurance of the prophecy kept him going.
They simply cannot risk anymore. They had to make sure everything will go as the Prophecy foretold to survive.
Harry Potter cannot lose.
He convinced himself and sat back to enjoy the hard-earned peace after Dumbledore took little Harry to the doorstep of his dreaded relatives…
That is, until Harry Potter disappeared from the face of earth.
The Order has attempted to search for Harry Potter so long after realizing that the Dursleys are not about to return. It was chaotic, really, when they realize that it was not simply a short trip that the Dursleys were taking but that they were actually leaving the Britain with no intention of heading back.
The moment their little squib informer Mrs. Figgs that they have placed near the household hesitantly suggest that the long period of absence are abnormal. It all went up in fire.
Years after years, they searched. Harry Potter simply cannot be found. Magic of all kinds will not reveal his location. It was as if he was never born.
After four years, many began to lose hope and thought him dead. Including Kingsley Shacklebolt.
And just when he completely gave up and decided to travel a little to ease his troubling mind.
Kingsley found him.
He didn't really know what did he expect before he saw the young boy. The last time he saw him, Harry Potter was merely a young babe that he knew is going to have a miserable life and a caring hero complex after all.
Seeing the laughing open face of the boy-who-lived in a little forest in a small Japanese island have shocked him immensely. He looked like James so much at the moment. The dancing mischief look, caring, loving glint in his eyes when he looked at the pink-haired girl wearing a hat was the exact copy of the look James use to sent Lily every single day. Shacklebolt can feel his eyes prickling at that memory. They were so in love.
He has immediately returned to the hotel he was residing in to gather information of how Harry Potter came to here.
It was then he found out that Harry was abandoned by the Dursley in the isolated orphanage.
No wonder they could not find him after searching every inch of European land! He was thrown to a small distant Japanese Island! They have always thought that they were searching for the entire Dursley family who surely speaks no foreign language and so, never bother to search in the eastern lands, Shacklebolt remembered with a grimace.
After finding out his status, Shacklebolt immediately went to the orphanage to take Harry out. Surprisingly, the young boy was like a totally different person in his presence. No trace of the humor and sweet gentleness he had on his face while talking to the little girl was present. He was cold, distant, and clearly reluctant to leave.
It was a while before he managed to convince Harry to go with him.
To this day, he still did not know which of his reasons moved the boy and made him agree. The little boy had looked so depress at the time, the anguish look on his face! It was as if he was abandoned by the whole entire world and told that he is heading to his death. But he still nod at his request, no matter how unwillingly.
The sheer child-like single-mindness of his devotion to that strange girl was stunning, really.
After that brief encounter, he managed to leave with him but the young savior refused to have anything more to do with him. No word, no request, no eye contact. Nothing. Shacklebolt see him wasting away like an unwanted house elf. He can clearly see that the boy is desperately missing his friend
Out of guilt, Kingsley Shacklebolt allowed him free reign for a month and let him play with some other children to lift his mood. He didn't contact the Order, knowing that Dumbledore would order his return immediately. He deserves this, at least, a moment of freedom before taking on the burden of our world, Shacklebolt thought piteously.
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Harry has not spoken a word after leaving the orphanage.
What is there to say? He stayed silent and observed. Waiting for the best moment of chance to end his new guardian's life.
His name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and is an auror, whatever that is. Weird terms that Harry has never heard of continuously pops out of his mouth on a regular basis. It is obvious that this is natural to him and he expected Harry to know exactly what he is talking about.
…Harry wonders why.
It is only thanks to his well-practiced mask that he managed to avoid exposing his ignorance and shock from time to time. He always pretend that he knows. Through his ceaseless rambling, Harry learned of another world.
They are wizards.
Including him.
Harry was lost and confused. All his childhood, he believed himself to be special and unique. That his power was something only he process.
But now, he was informed that he was just one among many.
He felt duped and lost somehow.
But then, he remembered Lucy. Lucy who was still waiting for his return.
He put his pride aside. No matter what others can do, he is still Harry. Harry who have Lucy to return to.
He remained silent, only now paying more attention than ever to the strange things that come out of Shacklebolt's mouth and commit everything to his memory for now that he know the man is not crazy.
Bits by bits, Harry gathered the pieces and put the puzzle together. He is not stupid. The life at Dursleys have mold his ability to sense emotion of others. This man bore guilt toward him. He don't know why, but it is clear that the man do feel guilty. And he already know that he is important to those who are searching for him.
A knowing smug glint entered her eyes. Harry Potter know exactly how to kill him. All he have to do…
Is wait.
Harry never forgets. Harry never forgives. No matter what he think he was doing at the time, this guy has already signed his death warrant the moment he dare to take him away from his Lucy.
His new guardian is worried about his silence though. Believe it to be the shock of being away from kids same age as him. He stayed in the island to find some friends for Harry, hoping to get him to open up before reporting back to the order, whatever that is, his whereabouts. Knowing that he is important and would not be easily discarded, Harry remained silent to buy time. He cannot risk others' knowledge of him before ending the miserable life of his guardian.
It was the few of the most irritating week in his life. Harry was placed among "cheerful" children his age that his guardian has handpicked and was forced to endure all their stupidities in attempts to "draw him out of his world". The worse part being that he couldn't just wring the brats' neck to end their loud inane chatters to risk exposure while they run around him twenty-four hours a day.
It was hell.
Among all, there was a pair of siblings and their cousin named Yuka that stands out to him. Don't take the wrong assumption. Harry merely thought that they were even more annoying than normal kids.
It's amazing how Shacklebolt can pick such lowly life forms to accompany him.
Kouta, the older brother, or whatever his name is, was a seriously lame kid. A sensitive sissy that can't even handle his own sister or cousin. If you just push hard enough, he is going to give.
Yuka, on the other hand, was bossy and crazily obsessed with Kouta.
Kouta's sister Kanae, however, was the worst of all, she was not only self-centered and stubborn, but also possessive of what she considered to be hers. Which, sadly, now include Harry, the mysterious, silent, handsome orphan boy.
Harry never once spoken or spared a glance to her. But all his detachedness only served to flame her obsession somehow.
A month later, they have yet to leave.
Lucy must be worrying sick, he thought. Harry is seriously getting irritated. Someone just had to die.
Soon.
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He waited until Shacklebolt left Japan with him to avid suspicion.
Another half a month was wasted in waiting.
Before he strikes.
It was surprisingly easy. Harry reflected as he licked away the blood that is splattered on his hands, sitting on the ground. Shacklebolt didn't even suspected anything. One strike, and he was out.
Wizard folks and muggles, what they call normal humans, are not that much different after all.
It is clear to him now that his power is much, much stronger than their pathetic ability they call magic that Shacklebolt claim to be same to the power he wield. Compare to him, the man have no control whatsoever.
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Harry had just decided one day that they have traveled far enough and determined that it is time to kill him.
Then, he simply waited until they were alone in a hotel room and Shacklebolt release his wand.
"Hey, you!" he said, voice slightly raspy from nearly two months of disuse.
The man was ecstatic when he turned around to face Harry, clearly not suspecting any ill wills from him.
It was the last expression on his face when he died.
Harry simply reached out a hand expressionlessly and clenched it into a fist. Magic did all the rest for him and crushed the grown man's windpipe.
Shacklebolt's own magic didn't even managed to put up a resistance.
Harry watched with a raised brow as his body limply collapse onto the ground. That is what I waited and planned for so long to kill?
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…The man did dotes on him.
Harry thought objectively, staring down on the pool of red fluid that began to gather at his feet, nearly as much as the Dursleys have to Dudley.
The combined force of his death and the thrill of killing reminds him of his past, something he had long put aside, determined to forget, the time when he was nothing but a weakling that has yet to realize his power…
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Suddenly, he was three again.
Starved, cold and hurt, with nothing but darkness and pain as companions.
He was so afraid.
In the little cupboard, all he can hear was his uneven heartbeat and the harsh sound of breathing.
Spiders would occasionally climb on top of him as he lay there, shivering with fear. Slowly, he learned not to care…
The smell of dust was nothing out of ordinary to him. The air in his confining prison is always warm and stifling. He had nearly suffocated to death in this little encased room once before learning to dig a hole on a corner to ensure the flow of fresh air…
He hated his life.
Harry hated his parents, hated himself, hated the world, hated Privet Drive, hated the uniformed houses, hated how perfectly normal every single house was, hated how the rest of the world can have happiness when all he have is suffering and misery. He hated Aunt Petunia, hated his whale of a cousin, hated his uncle, but most of all, he hated the fact that he care.
Sometime he'd sit alone in the darkness of his cupboard, wishing desperately that he had the strength to crush them, to hurt them the way he was hurt. But then, right after he can even finish the thought, Harry would feel bone-deep guilt. They are your family! He would scold himself. The another side of him would yell right back, SO? WHO CARES! A tug of war would then ensure. The conflict within him never ceases. Neither ever wins. It never do ends.
Harry don't like the conflict within him.
Is it so wrong to want to have revenge?
One side of him would tell him firmly that he needs to love and care for his family because family is everything while another part of him would tell him it is only natural to wish for revenge because they don't do anything except hurting him anyways.
Every time, he would secretly agree with the rebellious side of him while forced to stop think of his satisfying scenarios of revenges by his righteous conscience.
He feel torn every single time and hate himself even more for the fact that he cared.
He loathe his family. In fact, he wanted his family dead. He know he do. From as far as he can remember, Harry always knows what he want. But a part of him continue to repulse at the idea.
And he don't understand why.
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It was not until he was five that he finally realized that there was power within him.
He still remember the day clearly like it was yesterday.
It was a morning like any other. Harry recalled, from upstairs, the doorknob rattled and the door above opened with a squeak. Steps continued to land, heading downstairs. Step by step, Harry listened to the familiar and dreadful sounds approaching his little cupboard, wincing internally at every thump. He pulled his legs towards his chest and curled into a ball, fearing the inevitable.
The footstep stopped in front of his door. Harry quickly clenched his eyes shut, knowing what is to come. Sure enough, not a second later, the wooden door was heavily yanked open and slammed into the wall.
Blinding light streamed in, pain attacked his eyes through his closed eyelids. He held in a whimper. How long haven't he see light?
His aunt didn't care about his reaction and did not bothered to give the young boy any time to adjust. He was grabbed roughly by the arm and tore from safety of his cupboard. The unnecessary force used on his arm to nearly dislocated itself from its socket.
He bit back a yap and obediently trod over to the kitchen to start their breakfast. Harry has learned in an early age that it is only going to get worse if he made any noises.
After all. Freaks never deserve anything.
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He was starved again for being punished for something Dudley did.
Watching enviously as his relatives dig into the breakfast that he made through the little crack in his cell. Harry swallowed painfully, he nearly haven't eaten for three weeks straight. So long that although his stomach is burning with acid, he feels numb. He wondered dimly how he can still be alive with so little food while strong hatred and loathing course through him.
His eyes clouded over.
A wave of dizziness attacked him; Harry fell to the ground. Blood roar through his ears, he feel strangely light-headed. Am I dying? He wondered detachedly.
Something cracked within him in the moment.
It was then that he see the light within him, around him, all over him.
It was…magnificent.
Harry look around him in wonder. He lift his hand and inspected it closely, the lights are a part of him. Then, he suddenly realized that he is not hungry anymore. In fact, he feel better than he ever had. He stood on his feet. He felt…powerful.
He peered out from the crack and feel the hatred rose again within him at the sight of his so-call family. This time, no stupid conscience came out to disturb him.
Harry decided that he feel happy.
Somehow, he knew everything was changed in the last five minute.
He wanted to teach them a lesson.
Nervously, Harry stretched his hand out in front of him out of instinct. He can do this. His breath caught in anticipation as he slowly began to clench his fist...
Images flash by, Dudley this, Dudley that. Tension build up within him.
Determination was next to rose. They would regret how they treated him in the past.
He clenched his hand with all the fury he could muster and squeezed so hard that his nails dug into his palms, close to drawing blood. Invisible binds of light slash out toward his target, drawing more and more spots of light into their rank. His hand shook with the strain. He can't give up now…Harry opened his mouth in a silent snarl as he can see the lights stirring restlessly around them. Just a little more…
A victorious smile graced his pale withdrawn face as he witness his cousin fell, choking, wheezing and gasping for breath.
The couple flew into panic mode, "Dudley! Oh my god! Dudley!" He look on their frightened face with cold satisfaction. Revenge can be so sweet…
Vernon looked up in that moment, straight into his jaded eyes glittering with bloodlust. Harry smirked as he saw the whole-hearted fear he witness in his eyes, fear of what he can do to them.
He decided he like the feeling of being in control of others' fate.
The bolt at his door snapped open all on its own. Petunia's suspicious gaze immediately turn upward.
Harry stood up in one fluid motion and the door flung open out of its own record, being held still in place by the mysterious invisible force. Calmly, he stepped out with a predator grace that was still absent this morning.
Dudley ceased gasping for air and fall limp.
He walked up to the frightened couple with a cold smile, "I think it is time that we have a little talk."
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Harry clean off his fingers absently. It has been a while he thought of that day, he thought rather indifferently. He wondered briefly what brought that up before looking down at the mess.
Urgh.
Sniffed once with disdain, Harry made sure of the absence of blood stains on him and left the room.
He walked confidently away from the scene. Whatever. It is time to go find Lucy.
She is probably getting worry by the time.