Disclaimer: I don't make any money out of this because quite frankly, I'm not J.K. Rowling.
(Author's Note: For those who are worrying, I HAVE NOT ABANDONED BEAST LORD! I'm just posting this in the hopes that I can get my muse to come back and help me write the next chapter. Well, that and I've been toying with the idea of releasing this story for a while...
This story, FYI, is an Alternate Universe theory. It begins just as Headmaster Dumbledore has left young Harry Potter on the steps of the Dursley's. I hope you enjoy it.
Anyway, to new readers just discovering me, to my returning readers who alternatively love and hate me because of my erratic update chapter for BL, and anyone else who isn't covered... I present to you my newest fanfic, Fate's Path!)
Chapter 1: Aureus and his Master
Two pairs of eyes watched as a wizard named Albus Dumbledore walked away from Number Four Privet Drive, and the bundle that lay on its doorstep. "They are just going to leave him with those… those Muggles?" asked the one with the gold eyes of his companion.
"Crazy, isn't it?" The voice that responded was obviously male.
"Which, the wizards or the Muggles?" Gold-eyes asked. A chuckle was the only answer to that question, so gold-eyes continued on. "What are we going to do about him?"
The man looked with his hazel eyes at his companion. "Who, Albus Dumbledore or Harry Potter?" Seconds later he rubbed his head, where he had been hit. "Aureus!" he complained.
Aureus sniffed. "Stop being an idiot. Harry Potter, of course."
"We will keep watch for a day. If he is treated well, we will go back home. If not, we will take him with us."
Aureus looked astonished. "Leave him here? Master, we felt his power all the way back home! I say take him either way! He should not be brought up with those Muggles!"
Hazel eyes glared. "Hush. I have spoken." He spoke with a commanding tone.
"As you wish, Master." Aureus bowed his head.
Together, the two returned to their vigil of Harry Potter.
Petunia Dursley was not a happy woman.
This morning had started out like any other morning. She woke up, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband, and made her way to her son's room. He was still sleeping, so she went downstairs to get breakfast ready. A quick glance into the icebox made her remember that today was the day the milkman was supposed to come.
Petunia wrinkled her nose at the thought of an extra chore, but nonetheless, gathered up the empty milk bottles and the crate that stood near the kitchen door. As she walked the short distance from the kitchen to the front door, six empty milk bottles found their place in the crate, courtesy of Petunia's hands.
Petunia opened the front door, and bent to place the crate to the side of the door. She stopped; something was not quite right. She lifted her eyes a fraction, and stared straight at jet black, messy hair, which didn't quite cover a small head, or the small scar shaped like a lightning bolt over his right eye. Petunia did what any person would do: she screamed.
The scream woke her husband. And her son. And the nosy Mrs. Blaker next door. And the two watchers that were in the process of dozing off. But for some quite incomprehensible reason, it failed to wake the child in front of her.
Vernon Dursley came barreling down the stairs, and looked worriedly at his wife, who was clasping the doorframe with white knuckles. Other than her shaky breath, she was standing stock still, seeing something that Vernon couldn't, thanks to her blocking his line of sight. "Petunia, are you all right? Petunia?"
Wordlessly, Petunia pointed a quivering finger at what appeared to be a bundle of blankets on their doorstep. Vernon glanced at it over his wife's shoulder, and drew a shocking conclusion. "That's a baby!"
As if to punctuate his father's proclamation, a loud wail arose from inside the house. Petunia, hearing her child's cry, forced the presence of the one in front of her to the back of her mind, and raced up the stairs to gather her now very much awake son in her arms.
Meanwhile, Vernon looked at the boy in front of him. He would have continued to just stare at the child, if he hadn't heard the sounds of curtains being pulled back next-door. Realizing that he was drawing attention to him and his family, Vernon awkwardly picked up the bundle of blankets, righted the crate of empty milk bottles with his foot, and made his way inside. The door shut quickly afterward.
Minutes later, the whole Dursley family stared at the bundle on the kitchen table. Petunia made continued efforts to quiet Dudley, who was most unhappy that he did not have his bottle. It was Vernon, who wasn't really paying attention to his son, who first noticed the note clutched in the little boy's hand.
He gently extracted it, and read it silently. The note was passed on to Petunia, who gaped at both it and the boy silently.
"This can't be!" Petunia said a few moments later. "I certainly don't want that… that freak inside this house!"
Vernon wanted to agree. "Maybe he's not like them… maybe he's normal!" He speculated.
Petunia frowned. "Do you honestly believe that?"
Silence reigned, except for Dudley's fussing. While she left her husband to contemplate that, Petunia went to the icebox and took out Dudley's last full bottle. Dudley eagerly snatched it from his mother's hands, and began greedily sucking.
"Maybe if we don't encourage him…maybe if we beat him… he won't be like… them…" Vernon got out, haltingly.
At the look on Petunia's face, Vernon scowled. "Well, we don't have another choice! They didn't leave us one!"
"I won't have him corrupting Dudley with his abnormal self!" Petunia almost screeched.
"Then we place him somewhere away from Dudley! The cupboard under the stairs is big enough for him."
Petunia was about to raise more objections, when something caught her attention; the child on the table had woken up, and was staring up at the unfolding drama before him with unblinking, emerald eyes. Petunia gasped at the familiar color on the small boy in front of her.
"Well, what do you want?" She snapped cruelly. This alerted Vernon of Harry's state of wakefulness.
Those huge emerald eyes looked at her for another second, before the boy opened his mouth. "Where Mama?"
Petunia blinked. The boy looked around, mouth pouting. "Dada? Pafoo? Mo'ee? Albah?"
"None of your business, brat! I'm your Aunt Petunia, and you're staying with me from now on!"
"Aun' Pe-ooey?"
The mispronunciation of her name was the last straw for a frazzled Petunia. She raised her hand, and delivered the first slap young Harry had ever experienced. Tears filled his green eyes, and he whimpered at the pain. "It's Aunt Petunia, you brat. Get it right!"
"I sowwy, Aun' Pe-toon-uh."
It was closer to dinnertime when the Dursley's hopes that Harry would be normal were utterly crushed. Between his appearance and then, though, he acted like any baby/toddler would; he pooped in his diaper, splashed the water in the tub during his bath, and quite gleefully muddied his clothes in the back yard.
Petunia and Vernon had decided that yes, they would take him in, but they wouldn't tolerate anything to do with magic. They did not want a wizard in the house, and so they would stamp it out of little Harry.
Dudley, on the other hand, decided that he did not like this new arrival invading his territory, and showed his displeasure by poking his younger cousin every chance he got. Dudley also snatched away anything that Harry picked up. All of which resulted in a thoroughly unhappy Harry.
Harry had had a very trying past few days. First, he had sensed a dark presence, and later it had put his Mommy and Daddy to sleep. Then he had been taken from his house, and put here. He had been slapped, and now his cousin had taken a stuffed dog from him.
Harry frowned, and reached out his hand. "My Pafoo'!" Petunia and Vernon whirled around at the name, and Dudley stuck his tongue out at his cousin. What happened next surprised all of them, even Harry.
The stuffed dog jerked itself out of Dudley's hands, and floated to Harry, who squealed in happiness and hugged it close to his chest. To him, all dogs were "Pafoo," a tribute to his "uncle," a dog Animagus by the name of Sirius Black.
Petunia rose, angry, hand ready to slap Harry at the sign of something she had feared for so long. Realizing that he had inadvertently angered his aunt, Harry tried to hand the dog back to Dudley in an attempt to avoid the pain Harry knew was coming. If anything, it made his aunt angrier.
Harry closed his eyes, preparing for the slap. It never came. Instead, he heard a strange voice say "That is quite enough." Curious, Harry peeked his eyes open.
In front of him was a white-haired and bearded man in robes, holding back his aunt's hand with his arm. He looked quite simply angry, and Harry was glad that the anger hadn't been directed at him.
Vernon also looked at the man who had suddenly appeared out of thin air. That alone made Vernon sure that this was an "abnormal" person, like Harry. The robes only confirmed his guess, as only "their" kind wore those types of clothes. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house!?" Vernon rose from his seat, almost shouting.
"Sit down, Dursley, before I turn you into a toad. Not that it is any of your business, but I'm taking young Harry away. You are not fit to be his guardians." If looks could kill, Vernon would have been dead a thousand times over. The tone of the voice alone froze him.
The man let go of Petunia's arm as if were the plague, and pointed to a space near Vernon. Petunia screeched as she found herself flying back to the place where the old man had pointed.
Harry recognized what the man was, and gleefully shouted out, "Wi-zar!"
The wizard's cold expression melted and he smiled at Harry. "Yes Harry, I'm a wizard, just like you." He stepped over to the boy, who put his arms up in a silent plea. The wizard obliged, and picked up Harry, settling him against his side. Then he turned toward the Dursley's, his smile disappearing.
"Good bye, you frightfully horrid excuse for Muggles. You were given a chance, and you failed spectacularly. Do not blame anyone when you receive your just reward." With those parting words, he disappeared, Harry alongside him.
The Dursleys, even little Dudley, were speechless.
"So what are we going to do with the little tyke?" Aureus asked his Master and the boy in the older wizard's arms. "Take him to our home?"
"No, that wouldn't be good for him. Living in such a magic saturated environment would not be good for a fifteen-month old." The old wizard looked at Harry, who was currently fighting a yawn, and had to smile
Aureus looked puzzled. "Maybe, but where else would we take him?" He looked at his Master's face, and felt a grim foreboding. "You can't be serious! Not them"
The wizard tried to wipe the grin off of his face, but failed. "Why not? They're perfectly suitable guardians!"
"That's half true, and the other half are children themselves! How can you expect Harry to grow up properly in that environment?"
"We're going to stay too."
That surprised Aureus. "We are? But we've never stayed anywhere for long!"
"True," the wizard admitted, "but Harry will need us. Besides, it'll only be for ten years. Are you sure you can handle that, Aureus?"
Aureus huffed. "Of course I can, Master. Very well, have it your way. But remember, I warned you."
"Yes, yes, enough chitchat. We have some people to meet." He waved his hand, and disappeared, Aureus and Harry with him.
Well! I must admit... after the overwhelming response to Beast Lord, I'm hesitant to post anything else. I was just astounded that my first fanfic story, one by a rookie auther, got such a fan club. Right now, though, my brain is blocked and my muse has fled to England, eagerly awaiting the next, and saddingly last, Harry Potter book. Any ideas I try to flesh out on my computer just totally suck, and I can't write out something that I would be willing to post. So, I'm posting this story in hopes that I can finally get my muse to come back and see that I'm worth at least another chapter or so. Rest assured, I HAVE NOT ABANDONED BEAST LORD! I'm just... er... making sure that I'm proud of what I post and it lives up to the story's appeal.
This story, Fate's Path, is something that I've been sitting on for quite a while, but I was trying to focus on BL, so I've held back, and wrote on this when I was trying to get my muse back. I actually got the idea for this fic when I was talking with a classmate of mine a while back. I won't reveal what, exactly we talked about (yet) because that would just ruin the plot. I took the idea that we were talking about, and changed it slightly, added a few bits of my own style, and the result is Fate's Path. I hope that you like it.
Oh, and if you haven't yet, please check out my group on Yahoo! The url is posted in my profile.
Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please review. I love to hear from my readers. Flames... well, it is kind of cold where I live, so go for it. I'll laugh at the flames and that will make me warmer. Constuctive criticism is always appreciated and taken under review.
Ceres K.