Content Warning M
Rated M Due to language, and violence.
Read at your own discretion.
ARCHON BLESSING
PRIVET DRIVE
Surrey, London
November 1st, 1981.
The Eleventh Hour.
The brown boring houses that line the peculiar street of Privet Drive are quiet.
Not too quiet considering an owl just landed on the Privet Drive Street sign, head-turning as if looking for a house. With a "Who?" The owl flies away seemingly disappearing in a sparkle.
An elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery-white beard walks out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed.
The old man was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.
He takes out what looks like a silver lighter, and flicks it awake.
Instead of flames spouting from the lighter's cap, the light posts lining Privet Drive almost buzz and shine ten times brighter.
After a couple of seconds, the lights with these light posts start zooming to the lighter, as if a black hole sucking in light.
Eventually, the street's encased in darkness. If one were to try to look out their window, they would see nothing but a limitless void obscuring these two mysterious figures.
The man yells out to the cat, knowing that no one would see or hear them now, "I should have known that you would be here . . . Professor McGonagall."
The cat turns its head towards the man, square-shaped eyes slanted in acknowledgment, and in a second the cat disfigures itself instantly shifting into a female human, clothes accentuating the 'Professor' title.
This female human is a tall, rather severe-looking, and sprightly seventy-year-old woman. Her black hair can barely be seen due to the spiked circular hat she wore on her head. Almost as if imitating wizards. Her emerald, green robes shifted as the cold London wind bit at their skins. Her spectacles clattered as the chains also shook.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumors true. Albus?" McGonagall eyes nearly in tears, sadden by the recent news.
"I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad." His head sunk in defeat.
"And the boy?"
"Hagrid is bringing him." Reassurance flows between the two for merely a millisecond, until-
"Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life." Confidence and belief etched onto the elderly man's face.
A motor engine gets both of their attention as they look up towards the sky. The two professors see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts.
A large man with shoulder-length black hair and beard named Rubeus Hagrid takes off his goggles and speaks, "Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall Ma'am."
The large man seemed to be twice as tall as the average man, and three times as wide, with a long man of shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face.
"Hopefully no problems, I trust, Hagrid?" The elderly man says with a sparkle in his eye.
"No sir. Little tyke fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake him. There you go!" Handing over a small infant wrapped tightly in blankets to the older man.
Disbelief is written on Professor McGonagall's face as she questions her boss' decisions, "Albus, do you really think it's safe, leaving him with these people? I've watched them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggle imaginable. They really are…" Concerned for the well-being of this precious infant.
"The only family he has" Feigning a need for familial connection, disguising his true intentions for his plan.
The four-stop just outside a regular brown boring building, just the same as the rest on this boring street.
The three read the address.
4 Privet Drive.
The female of the group sighs, "This boy will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name."
"Exactly. He's better off growing up away from all that." Money
"Until he is ready." And broken. Eyes darken. Sinister emotions rise for second, until he realizes the present. Just wait
Dumbledore places the baby on the ground slowly. Hagrid sniffles in sadness, he is sobbing a little. He clears his throat.
"There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all." Reassuring the annoying giant.
Hagrid nods. Dumbledore takes a letter and places it on the baby, now at the foot of the door.
"Good luck . . . Harry Potter" You'll need it.
The baby has a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. The scar glows a sickly dark green, but soon clears and shifts into a light playful green.
THE VANISHING GLASS
Ten years later, the baby no longer sleeps in the warm comfort of its carrier, but instead the luxurious abode of-
The closet under the stairs.
"Up. Get up" A feminine voice rings in his ears, as the entrance to the closet he sleeps in is banged on.
"Now!" She yells in a screech, startling the child.
Harry wakes up, turns on his closet light, and puts on his glasses with tape on the bridge, indicating the abuse from the decade spent in his personal Hell.
A large, tubby boy, Dudley Dursley, suddenly comes running down the stairs above the closet. He stops halfway down and goes back, jumping on the staircase.
A pig-like voice resounds Harry's small 'room', "Wake up Potter! We're going to the zoo!"
Harry looks up to the join works of the stairs with small amounts of dust rising. Dudley laughs come down the stairs and runs for the kitchen.
Harry tries to come out of the closet but is shoved by Dudley.
"Damn it, that's gonna leave a fucking bruise." Cursing at such a young age but is surprisingly quite normal around certain family members with a colorful vocabulary.
The nasal voice is heard talking to Dudley in the kitchen.
"Oh, here he comes, the birthday boy!" Joy, and love that can't compare to any other mother fills the room, exciting her impatient son.
"Happy Birthday Son!" Genuinely love and support from the father, nothing could amount to his love for this strange child.
The woman and Dudley giggle together. Harry comes into the kitchen, dressed in outgrown clothes.
An XXXL grey gym shirt that could've Dudley's baby clothes, and jeans that are constantly slipping down the poor child's hips.
The woman sneers at Harry and remarks, "Why don't you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything."
The child only nods sadly, "Yes, Aunt Petunia" Voice cracking.
Harry starts to prepare everything for breakfast.
"I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley's special day." The now Aunt Petunia screeches to the room.
Harry slowly places the bacon on the plates.
"Where is my coffee boy!" Dudley's father screams.
"I- I am sorry Uncle Vernon" Harry pours the man his cup, as he's smacked across the face with the daily newspaper.
"Hurry up with the food boy." Uncle Vernon wouldn't want to ruin today with more hilarious violence.
Dudley's led to the family room, where there are a vast number of presents.
Dudley stares.
"Aren't they wonderful darling?" Petunia proudly boasts.
"How many are there?"
"Thirty-six?! But last year-last year I had thirty-seven!" He cries in anger, tears already flowing down his bloated face.
"Err yes, well, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year," Vernon reassures.
"I. Don't. Care. How. Big. They. Are!" The child screeches.
"Oh, now, now, now. This is what we're going to do, is that when we go out, we're going to buy you two new presents! How's that pumpkin?" Further trying to reassure his child.
Outside the house morning. The Happy family is heading to the car.
Petunia remarks, "This will be a lovely day at the zoo. I'm really looking forward to it." Hoping he doesn't ruin this.
Harry walks to the car but is shoved by Uncle Vernon.
"I'm warning you now, you little shit. Any funny business, any at all, and you won't have any meals for a week. Get in freak." Emphasizing his point with another shove into the seat for Harry.
Zoo, London
June 23, 1991
The family tolerated Harry, be it for Dudley's birthday, or just because the public eye doesn't matter to Harry, he was just glad he wasn't a punching bag for once.
While trying to see a penguin exhibit, the family and the rest of the zoo-goers hear a beautiful lyre being played.
Everyone gathers around a green-clad child.
The young boy appeared to have fair skin and a slim build. His eyes sparkled with an endless forest green. His beautiful dark blue hair formed into twin braids that fade into aqua at the tips.
The clothes of this young boy were a frilly white top with a corset-like leather midsection, along with teal shorts with fold embroidery, a matching teal cape fluttered magically behind him. If not for the apparent toy white and light blue bow, his cape would've flown away.
The clothes this young boy wore seemed . . . something Uncle Vernon would most definitely disapprove of.
It was already apparent as Vernon is dragging the family to avoid the "Queer-looking freak of a monster."
As Harry is dragged away, he makes eye contact with the green-clad boy.
In a split second, this young green boy knew his next fun task.
Operation: Freedom_83240
"Dang, I should maybe do his name instead of numbers, it's hard to remember after my slumber." The green-clad boy muttered to himself.
Before Harry could be dragged away, the lyre is strung, and a beautiful melody is played.
Before anyone could think, react, or understand, it appears as if all their mental and physical exhaustion is lifted.
The young Harry Potter having experienced a decade's worth of malnutrition and physical abuse, slowly mends together as some his hidden internal wounds rewind against time.
"Shit, how bad was it, he better not fucking omit." The player curses to himself.
Breathing a deep breath, Harry almost feels the decades of abuse slipping away, as his body slowly recovers.
"What the fuck?" Harry mutters out loud.
Before he could think about the sudden change, he's dragged by Vernon, "Let's go, boy!" Almost shoving him to the ground to keep up.
Neither party saw the narrowing eyes of the green boy.
The family then visits the large Boa constructor, lazily basking in the sun.
"Make it move!" Dudley screams at his father.
Vernon taps on the glass of the cage.
"Move you bloody snake!" Vernon yells while slamming the glass screen.
Harry huffs and says, "He's asleep. It's not gonna make a difference."
Father and son give Harry a push before moving to a different enclosure.
Harry pushes himself up and talks to the snake-like imaginary friend, "Sorry about him. He doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you."
The snake looks at Harry and blinks rapidly as if he understood.
"Can you . . . hear me?" He asks the animal.
A nod from the snake causing both Harry and a shadowed figure behind him to tilt their heads.
"It's just . . . I've never talked to a snake before. Do you . . . I mean . . . do you talk to people often?"
The snake shakes its head, and Harry continues having read the animal's history, "You're from Burma, aren't you? Was it nice there, do you miss your family?"
The snake points towards his sign again, Harry re-reads and missed the part where he was bred in captivity.
"I see. That's me as well. I never knew my parents, either."
Harry didn't see the mysterious figure behind him soften hearing that.
The snake attracted Dudley's attention, causing the child to start banging on the glass, pushing Harry to the floor.
"Mummy, daddy, come here! You won't believe what this snake is doing!" Dudley called for his parents.
Dudley puts his hand on the glass wall, banging for attention. Harry glares at his cousin, anger bubbling up from not just this moment, but years of abuse.
The glass wall disappears.
Dudley is gone.
He's chained to the exhibit with extra seaweed.
Both Harry and the mysterious figure start laughing up a storm at what Harry just did.
"Thanks!" The snake hisses as he slithers away.
"Anytime!" Harry replied happily.
"Mum, mummy!"
"AHH!" Petunia could only scream for her child.
"Mum, help! Help me!"
"My darling boy! How did you get in there?! How did you get in there? Dursely, oh, Dursley!"
The figure's interest is piqued but his attention is returned to Vernon.
Uncle Vernon drags Harry, knowing he can't risk his reputation in public.
Harry being dragged carried tears in his eyes, knowing a beating is soon to come, but what he hadn't known, is the green sparkly orb shining in his pant pocket.
Shining a light green, still dimly lit.
AUTHORS NOTE
Yo, guess wrote ANOTHER crossover fanfic for a literal nonexistent fandom? I did.
Am I sober? No lmao I wouldn't be writing this sober lmao
Lmk if this is a good idea, I'm waiting till more people interact with the other stories if they want another part lol.
Yeah this is "evil Dumbledore" maybe smart Harry, definitely companion/master venti? Idk thought about this while not sober haha
Like the other story, if this get traction I'll continue it when I'm high and bored lol
I will literally single-handedly write the first 10 fanfics for genshin if it means this part of the fandom can get some traction, I love reading fan made theories/universes ugh.
I SHOULD SAY, I USED A HARRY POTTER TRANSCRIPT WIKI TO DO A LOT OF THESE DIALOGUES. I DID COPY PARTS BUT IM DOING THIS FOR FUN SOOO .. I MAKE NO PROFIT OFF OF THIS JUST GIVING CREDIT WHERE ITS DUE