Harry Potter: The Witch Boy of Hogwarts: A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.
Plot: Harry Potter was never going to be a normal boy, even by wizards' standards. However, when he discovered his own powers at a young age, he realised this long before anyone else: he wasn't like them. He was so much more!
Author's Note: So, as a sort of Christmas/end of 2021 posting, I decided to go back to basics and just write whatever I really wanted to write, without a thought or care for what others might thought. At the same time, looking through my ideas dumps, I asked myself: DZ2, what idea do you KNOW you can make work to its inevitable completion?
Not think; no, you KNOW it, DZ, so which will it be?
Then, in scouring my old 'Den of Delights' I found this little nugget and, well, my mind just went…BOOM!
So, let's see what happens when the smoke clears from the explosion, shall we?
And, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.
Recommended Reads: Do Not Meddle In The Affairs Of Wizards by Corwalch, Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, Worthy of Magic by Sage Ra, Path to Power by sirius009, The Downward Spiral Saga – Harry Potter and the Homecoming, Harry Potter and Salazar's Legacy, Harry Potter and the Year of Broken Chains, Harry Potter and the Return of the Lost, Harry Potter and the Dirge of Hope and Harry Potter and the End of War – by BolshevikMuppet99, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda, Hogwarts black prince by chernabog 90, Enveloped in the Darkness and Embraced by the Darkness by Brigade and Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man
Key Pairing: Harry/Ginny; Draco/Hermione
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: Fear and Revelation
If there was one thing that everyone on Privet Drive, if not the full population of Little Whinging, Surrey, could agree on, it was the fact that the boy known as Harry James Potter had never really been a normal sort of young man.
Similarly, he wouldn't say it to any of them, least of all in anything that might be called friendly or civil, but Harry agreed with them.
Indeed, for as long as he could remember, Harry had always been different: strong-willed, perhaps, gifted with a level of intelligence that some of his seemingly-excited, if not awed teachers referred to as a prodigy's talent, as well as an eidetic memory, perhaps; but, above all those things, Harry was different.
And he was different because he had something they did not; something that meant he wasn't even a little like them.
He was better than them…and he knew it!
Witch Boy
Not many people in Little Whinging knew it, of course, but Harry's differences actually began back when he was one year old and, back then, Harry had been involved in a magical massacre, the likes of which the British Magical World had never seen before, and never would again…
Or so they hoped.
It was Halloween and, for Harry, it was a night he would never forget no matter how hard he tried.
Even though he was only a baby, Harry's memories would never be able to forget the events of that night. In fact, as he grew older, his young mind developed to a point where, by the time he was seven years old, he could remember the event in question, as clearly and with such detail, it was like he'd been there as a grown-up.
He remembered his Mother, Lily Alexandrea Potter nee Evans, putting him down in his crib before she'd kneeled down and, placing a soft kiss on his brow, she'd spoken to him, "Harry you are loved…so loved…Harry, Mama loves you…Dada loves you. Harry, be safe…be strong…and never forget that you are loved."
At the time, Harry had been silent, watching as his Mother stood up before their home, a quaint, but nice little place in the town of Godric's Hollow, was attacked by magic. Sometime later, the next thing Harry realised he could remember was hearing his Father, James Charles Potter, screaming as he was struck down by the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, before his Mother had turned and stood between Harry and the door to the nursery.
It was because of this that, on the night in question, Harry had been introduced to the Dark Lord Voldemort, a figure that haunted many nightmares and left hundreds of witches and wizards sleeping with the lights on. He had watched – as he remembered it – while his Mother begged and pleaded with Voldemort to spare Harry while taking her instead and then, in a flash of green light, Lily Potter was dead.
Even years later, when he thought of that moment, Harry still felt the same burning fury building inside him – a sensation his infant-self hadn't been able to understand – as he'd looked at Voldemort, who sneered before he pointed his wand at Harry.
"Only I can live forever," he told the boy, before commanding his curse, Avada Kedavra, and sending the same murderous killing light that'd taken the lives of Lily and James Potter, and so many others before them, towards Harry.
However, the reason that Harry spent many a day afterwards trying to remember the night until it was as clear as crystal in his head was because of what he remembered happening next. Namely how, when the light struck at him, it was almost like this golden energy had surrounded Harry and taken in the magic of the curse, leaving the baby with little more than a lightning-bolt-shaped marking upon his brow.
As for Voldemort, the magic that enveloped Harry seemed to fight back, sending the curse back to its owner, destroying him and tearing down the house until all that remained was Harry, curled up in his crib, crying loudly.
When other magic users had come to investigate, they'd been relieved to find Harry alive and well, but none of them knew what Harry knew.
None of them knew about it…and for a long time, Harry didn't really know about it either: he just knew it was there, watching over him, protecting him from harm, while he was hated and shunned, seemingly for no logical, normal reason, by his oh-so-prim-and-proper family, the Dursleys.
There was Aunt Petunia, or the illegitimate spawn of Mr Ed and a woman with a bestiality fetish; there was Uncle Vernon, whose clothes could have hosted the Russian, Parisian and Las Vegas' largest circuses combined and still had room for the full occupancy of Wembley Stadium and Madison Square Garden combined. And, finally, there was Cousin Dudley, whose stupidity made goldfish, plankton and dead slugs combined seem clever by comparison, whilst, like his Father, he was well on his way to having clothes large enough to block out the sun itself.
And yet, despite the fact these three were as freakishly-abnormal and pathetic as it was humanly-possible to be, they still chose to believe they had some sort of power, sway and command over little Harry James Potter.
However, one fated day, all that changed…
And so much more changed because of that one seemingly-normal day…
Witch Boy
When Harry was six years old, his cousin thought it was a funny idea to try and drown Harry in the kiddie pool at the leisure centre.
This mostly involved waiting until no-one but his idiotic parents – in whose microscopic-sized brains, he could do no wrong, even if he suddenly decided to assassinate the Queen – could see him, before he made sure to hold Harry underwater, laughing boisterously as he challenged the freak to hold his breath and swim away.
In the process of trying to fight back, however, Harry had been left surprised, if not curious when he'd suddenly felt the same burning fury from that ill-fated night in Godric's Hollow rise up inside of him.
Not five seconds later, little cousin Dudley was being washed away out of the pool by waves that had sprung up out of nowhere.
No-one could explain it, not even when the attendant and teacher pointed out that there wasn't even enough water in the pool for such a big wave, but Harry had known it. He'd known that he'd done it and, though he said nothing to his Aunt and Uncle, he also knew that they knew he'd done it.
And, naturally, he was punished for it whilst Dudley was spoilt rotten.
However, no matter how much Mummy Molasses-for-Brains and Daddy Dog-Doody-Brains would spend on him, there was one gift that Harry did have that Dudley didn't.
And that made Harry feel better, even if he didn't quite know what that gift was.
Witch Boy
Not one year later, seemingly out of some pathetic desire to make Harry respect him, Dudley seemed to try again in a bid to make his cousin fear him and know that he didn't belong. He mostly did this by getting a pack of laughing hyenas to chase Harry around the school, whilst he also turned on the crocodile tears in a bid to make his pathetically-minded parents frighten off anyone else with lies about Harry.
In his flight from his cousin, however, Harry found himself backed into a corner in a small alleyway near the bins.
As Dudley and his gang drew closer, with the leader now apparently finding the strength and energy to advance on Harry, now he didn't have to run, the emerald-eyed scion didn't give Dudley the satisfaction of seeing him look anything close to scared. Instead, he just drew himself up to his full height and closed his eyes, before a thin smile crossed Harry's face when he felt that same burning feeling inside of him.
This time, however, Harry was left curious about the sensation as it was less-burning and more like a weird, but nice tingling sensation thrumming deep inside of his childish body, almost like something inside of him had finally acknowledged him as its new bearer.
When he opened his eyes, a part of him wondering how the feeling would help him out this time, he was surprised, if not amused to discover the equivalent of an army of animals – mostly birds, cats and dogs – standing between him and the boys.
While the would-be dominants stopped dead as they too realised their quarry wasn't quite as alone or helpless as they thought, Harry's smile became almost Grinch-like as he gave the creatures a command.
"Take them."
A cacophony of barks, chirps, loud meows and, eventually, panicked, terrified screams from the boys filled the school playground as the beasts hunted the would-be-predators-turned-prey, sending them retreating from Harry.
And, yet again, no-one could explain it, especially not when Dudley swore his gang to silence, telling them that they would never speak of it again.
However, several years, and several crazier, but hilariously-funny incidents later, Harry found the answer.
Witch Boy
Magic.
That's what it was.
When Harry was eleven years old, he learned the truth from a tactlessly-loud, uncaring-of-others'-feelings giant named Hagrid, who explained that Harry was going to be attending a school for witches and wizards known as Hogwarts. He also seemed to spend a long time fawning over some old coot named Dumbledore, loudly proclaiming how he knew Harry's parents and how this so-called Dumbledore was, apparently, a great man.
Having gotten used to Vernon and Petunia's roars and shrieks like the human-animal hybrids they were, Harry tuned Hagrid's crowing out, before, when Uncle Vernon tried to argue that Harry wasn't going anywhere near Hogwarts – as if the fat freak could stop him – and that he and Petunia had sworn to stamp it out of him, Harry was both annoyed, as well as surprised when Aunt Petunia came to his rescue.
Mostly by how she told her husband that Harry had to go, but she also told him that he couldn't come back until the summer.
Harry's only response was to shrug ruefully.
Witch Boy
By the time Hagrid dropped him back off at home, Harry didn't know whether to be impressed, annoyed or just plain disgusted with all that he had seen and learned of the magical world, mostly because of the apparent fame he also had because of what he'd done ten years ago. But also because, for a world that had so much power at its disposal, they might as well be black-and-white-coloured-wand-waving phonies performing at children's birthday parties for all they did with this power.
As Harry scoffed at the thought of how much better he obviously was, given what he had done with his powers – the water-wave and pack-attack just two of his more-favourited incidents, while there were many others that brought a smile to his face and a nervous, alarmed tick forming over the Dursleys' faces – he was also surprised, if not annoyed with himself when he was told he wasn't to ask them anything about his world.
The surprise was because of how this equine-freak actually thought he wanted to talk about his world with the lower lifeforms.
But, as for the annoyance, it was because, now he knew what he could do and what the freaks couldn't, Harry also came to an epiphany that, quite honestly, a small part of him reasoned he should have realised years ago.
Through his epiphany, the so-called Boy-Who-Lived realised why it was the mongrels of his life had never said or done anything with other magical moments over the years. He knew why they had left him alone for many weeks and months at a time, only speaking to him to feed him and tell him to get out of bed. He knew why, as events got stronger and stronger, and some of the incidents got more and more humiliating and degrading for the animals, they eventually decided they were safer and better-off simply pretending Harry didn't exist.
An irony, given how hard they'd worked to try and keep him from the world that was rightfully his, but still, now Harry knew why they'd done it all.
They were afraid of him…no…scratch that…the Dursleys were terrified of him.
And that thought made Harry very happy.
Very happy indeed…
Witch Boy
After a hurried dinner, and another piss-poor attempt to try and get Harry to toe the line, the Dursleys were just clearing up, with Aunt Petunia now consoling the little piglet – and all because he now looked like the swine he was, thanks to the oaf using magic, even though he wasn't meant to do that anymore – and leading him into the lounge, when, suddenly, the door to the kitchen closed with an almighty bang!
Stopping dead in their tracks, the Dursleys turned to face the dining room table, where Harry was standing near the door to the conservatory.
To the alarm of the three freaks, he wasn't just standing there; he was actually locking the door before, staring up at the curtains that Aunt Petunia often closed on a night-time – to stop the neighbours spying on her 'lovely' home, oh the irony – Harry willed his magic to obey his wishes.
As the curtains slid to the closed position, the young boy sighed softly before he lowered his head, his smile once again Grinch-like as he clicked his tongue before he addressed his family.
"Now, where do you three think you're going? I'm not done thanking you for all the bull-crap and truths you've told me over the years…"
Suddenly, the lights flickered, the television set died – earning a horrified wail from Dudley, as though the Four Horsemen had suddenly ridden through the house – and the whole room grew thick with cold, dark sensations that left the Dursleys shivering, especially Petunia, who now looked at her nephew not with vile reluctant acceptance or even sympathy or apology.
Instead, too little, too late, the horse-faced she-devil of a hypocritical mongrel realised just what sort of power and presence lived under her roof.
And how she had, basically, spent ten years undermining it and leaving it in darkness, where, instead of growing weaker, it was born to darkness, moulded by it and made into something that, by the time it saw the light, was already a man and, therefore, the light was naught to him, but blinding!
A statement that the young man made evident as he chuckled darkly before he looked up at the Dursley Trio.
Filling their world with the deathly green-coloured flash that seemed to illuminate in his eyes as he continued;
"But don't worry, I promise it won't hurt…me!"
Brr, talk about a chilling start and, now Harry has given his 'power' its true name, I'm sure we're all wondering: what sort of monster have the Three Freaks allowed to be born in their normal home?
Also, with a name to his power, and the freedom to wield it as he wishes – apparently without being stopped or setting off alarms in the HQ of the so-called 'authorities' – what sort of boy-wizard will Harry become at Hogwarts?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts, though not before he has a rather-interesting, if not different first encounter with something that always did seem a little too convenient if you ask me;
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