Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The Potter-verse belongs to JK Rowling.
Introduction Arc
Ch 1
Dying sucked!
I've tried to remember exactly how I died, but haven't had much luck. Actually, I don't remember anything. I can't remember by name or my age or what I did, hell not even the plot of Harry Potter! And I lived and breathed that stuff. It's all fuzzy. All the memories of my past life seem to be. It's not important now...
What is important is that I have reincarnated in the Potter-verse. Not in canon though, from what I can remember, the Dursleys never lived on a farm. They lived in Surrey for Merlin's Saggy Tits!
I do remember being born, that shit was beyond nasty. The screaming, the liquid from my mother's womb getting in my mouth choking me, that damn chord getting tied around my legs. Fuck! I do not recommend that experience to anyone.
I also remember my mother being annoyed with how I was acting. I mean in my position, who would like a titty being shoved in their face while they had the bitter tasting aftertaste of being born in their mouth!
But awful as those experiences are, my long periods of losing all control and partial amnesia helped. There were multiple times during each day when I would lose all sense of control over my tiny body and enter a dream-like state; watching whatever was happening on an extremely blurry TV. I guess my subconscious brain must have taken over my body during those times. A baby's brain couldn't possibly work at an adult's level all the time.
Time passed as it eventually does; and one day disaster struck in the horrifying form of the dark lord Voldemort as he murdered my mother in front of me. I don't remember much from that day either, maybe because of the killing curse or maybe because of the falling masonry on my head. How I survived all that is a mystery to me.
The next thing I remember is the farm. The one I grew up on with the Dursleys. Milk bottles and nappies were replaced with chores as soon as I was able. I had become a helping hand on the farm.
But I had greater ambition than that. I was Harry Potter. While I may have been only 5 years old at the time, any idiot could figure out that I had to take on Voldemort one day and I was going to need all the advantages I could get.
I had a neighbor, one Captain Price, an ex-British military veteran. He was in the SAS or so he liked to brag. You see, on his ranch, the Captain had a gun range. I wanted access to guns and the range to practice them on.
Hogwarts and Magic were more than six years away for me. That was six years I couldn't just sit on my ass and do nothing. I needed all the edge I could get on Voldemort.
And so I started my manipulation of a career long military soldier. Thankfully, I was five years old, my puppy dog eyes were as big as they were going to get and nobody would ever suspect a five year old to be capable of adult level cunning.
First, I took over Aunt Petunia's job of delivering fresh supplies and milk to his ranch and went there daily.
Second, I met the man and let my stomach grumble while my puppy dog eyes were on full when I lied blatantly that I wasn't hungry at all.
The kind old man insisted on me getting a full breakfast. I made sure to initiate a conversation about his military days and he was kind enough to share a tale of courage and valor with me.
Thirdly, I promised that I too would join the British military in a cutesy voice and the man crumbled, promising me that he'd make a soldier out of me that any man would be proud of.
I underwent a boot camp of training from that day onward and was fed like a horse. The old man even paid Vernon to let me stay on the ranch with him every day.
The old man was a harsh taskmaster, practically adopting me in just a few short years.
Endurance training started first, followed by survival training and then hand to hand combat in the later years. In the last year, I underwent arms training at last.
I became an expert in cleaning and maintaining all firearms the old man had. I also spent countless hours honing my aim on pistols, automatic assault rifles and sniper rifles down range.
The years I spent on the Captain's ranch had been good to me. I had buffed out, I was taller than all kids my age, I could run longer, swim farther, climb higher. More than that, I had gained a father figure.
Suffice it to say, seven years later when my Hogwarts letter arrived I was more than ready for it.
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