Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or Harry Potter, those belong to their respective owners. Im just toying with their characters and worlds

Chapter One

Harry Potter had always known that he wasn't your average 10-year old. He always knew that he was special in some way. It wasn't something you would instantly be aware of, though. For his outer appearance always had seemed quite normal. Sure, he may be a bit on the scrawny side. And this jagged scar on his forehead was kind of odd. But all in all nothing about this young boy would have hinted at what was hidden deep inside of him. And even if you knew some of his hidden talents, or better, powers, most people wouldn't have made a fuss about it. But no one knew about them. Partly, because Harry had always been a very sneaky kid, who somehow had a natural affinity to just... blend in, for the lack of a better word. And partly because people seemed to just forget ever having met him after while. Like someone or something erased the memories straight out of their minds.

But what exactly did make this child so special?

Well, for once, he was fairly mature. He didn't behave like a normal 10 year old. Sometimes not even like a normal human. His behavior often resembled that of an agitated animal; always tense, wary and somehow very calculating. Always ready to prowl, without mercy or even a spark of compassion. In the inside he just seemed to be empty and cold.

His regeneration was just absurdly fast. No matter what kind of injury he suffered, in a matter of days, often even mere hours everything would've gotten back to normal. Be it broken bones, burn wounds or ripped tendons. As long as it didn't kill him outright he was able to recover from virtually every injury.

Another of his strange abilities was the unnerving talent to just blend in perfectly with his surroundings, giving him a really sneaky, but also rather creepy air, which was able to scare most childs and even some adults.

And last, but certainly not least: his memory. Since, well, since he could remember Harry had never forgotten a single thing. Everything he had ever seen and experienced was always fresh on his mind. Like it had happened just yesterday. And it weren't only pictures he could remember. Also sounds, smells and even emotions he experienced years ago were always ever present on his mind. But why he had these powers was a mystery even to himself.

But, even though he possesed all these amazing abilities, nothing could have prepared him for the things that were yet to come.

It all began one beautiful saturday morning during spring.

"Boy!", a shrill voice shouted.

It was a sunny, albeit still a bit chilly day when Harry awoke.

"Get up Boy!", the voice snarled and a hand knocked harshly at the door of Harrys room.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and the trees had already begun to become green again.

The knocking intesified. "I swear, if you don't get up this instant, I will-"

Harry opened the door of his room (aka a small cuboard beneath the stairs), silencing his aunt effectively.

Petunia Dursley was a very tall and very thin woman with blue eyes and mousy brown hair. Maybe she had been pretty when she was younger, but the pregnancy with her son Dudley, as well as her age haven't been really kind to her. She worked out regularly and even dyed her hair in order to look better, but Harry always felt reminded of a horse when he looked at her. Privately he couldn't wait for the day when she would start neighing.

A hard slap on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"Next time you do what I say at once", she reprimanded him. "Is that clear?"

"Yes aunt Petunia" Harry answered "It won't happen again"

"I hope so", his aunt said. "Anyways, I have to do some groceries, so you will stay here and clean the house. Aunt Marge will be coming this evening and I want her to find anything as clean as possible"

Dread setteled in Harrys stomach. "A-Aunt Marge is going to visit us?"

Petunia noticed his trembling voice and shot him a pityful look.

"Indeed. So you'd better do your best. Understood?"

Harry nodded, too distraught to do anything else.

This is bad Harry concluded later this morning. This is really, really bad. He knew aunt Marge and he knew what would happen to him if she visited the Dursleys again. Especially if she brought Ripper, her goddammed bulldog with her. She would never miss a chance to let her dog rush on Harry. And when the beast would catch him (for it wasn't a question of if but when) the results... were never pretty to say the least. Harry knew that the Durselys didn't treat him the same way as Dudley, but they never had intentionally hurt him. Shouted at him, yes. Locked him in his cuboard as well. Even stared him for several days. But they never would use violence against him.

With Vernons sister Marge though, it was an entirely different matter. The Dursleys wouldn't stop her if she did anything to Harry. Or her dog for that matter. She was also the reason why Harry was tormented by an insane amount of fear for every canine that he encountered. Be it a pug, a bulldog or even a chihauha, solely the barking would make him shiver. And even though his wounds would heal after a few days the pain was still very vivid in his meomories. So what could he do?

He already had tried to outrun the dog several times, but he had failed everytime. So, that wasn't an option. He could try to hide, to use his strange ability to just fade out of sight, but since the dog would smell him, that plan was also rendered pretty much useless.

So there were only two options left:

Option number one: He had to endure it. The dammned beast had never killed him before, so neither would it this timey right?

Option number two: He could try to run away before Marge would arrive.

So, what should I choose?, Harry asked himself.

He pondered over that question for while, but finally came to an conclusion. Running away might work, albeit not for long. He would be found and brought back to the Dursleys soon enough. Also, who knows what might happen to him on the street? At least the Dursleys gave him water, food and a place to sleep. And, despite it being spring, the nights still were pretty cold. Additionally, at Privet Drive the Dursleys were there to guarantee his survival. He rembered that everytime Marges dogs had hurt him to a certain degree his uncle Vernon would stand up and demand her to call her dogs back. And, suprisingly, she did everytime. So Harry decided against running away.

"Still", he murmured to himself "I won't go down without a fight. If that darned dog wants to bite me I'll sure as hell bite it back" He grinned and if anyone would've been there to observe him in that moment, then they might have noticed the cruel, almost feral glint in Harrys eyes. And if this observers would have looked really, really closeley, then maybe they even saw that, albeit only for a split second, his eyes flashed from a vivid green to a deep, unearthly purple...

It was evening when the doorbell rang and the peaceful (or in Harrys case dreadful) silence of Privet Drive 4, Surrey was shattered. And in exactly that moment Harrys Plan was set into motion. He had calculated it perfectly. Had envisioned it over and over in his mind.

At first, when Marge entered the house she would ignore him in favour of the Dursleys as usual. Next, she'd turn to him and give him her clothes and bag to carry them to into the guest bedroom. When he would come back, her dog would growl and try to snap at him. Usually Harry would take a step back and avoid eye contact with the mutt. But this time he'd do things differently. He wouldn't waver. Wouldn't give it even the slightest hint that he was scared. He once listened to a show that was on the telly (in secret of course, he wasn't allowed to use the TV at all) and there it was said that dogs and other feral animals were able to smell it when those they saw as prey would feel strong emotions like fear and terror. So Harry decided to signalise Marges dog right away that he wasn't one to be messed with.

The next step was always dinner. He had to help Petunia in the kitchen and was reponsible for the dishes. While he would be doing the dishes he'd steal a little knife and hide it in his pocket. Just to be able to defend himself a bit.

Then came the hardest part which Harry nearly dreaded the most; the hunt, as he liked to call it. While the Durselys would be sitting in the living room Marge always accidently dropped her dogs leash, thus enabling it to start prowling on Harry. Mostly she justified doing so by "punishing the brats bad manners". Normally he'd try to flee from the dog, or try to scare it away, but that had never worked out before. Thus he decided to bite in the sour apple and fight the beast. When he was going down, he'd make sure that he'd hurt the dog just as much as it would hurt him. Thats also why he was going to snuck away the knife. Usually the "fight" (if you could even call it that) would take place in the garden, which is why Harry would ensure that the door to the garden would be open. Best he would be alone. He didn't really know why he wanted to be alone with the dog, but something told him it would be the best for him. And if Harry was certain of one thing, then that he'd do best to listen to his instincts. The dog always let him be after a while. It just bit him a few times, spilled some blood and then would retreat back into the house, letting him regenerate over the course of the next few hours.

And after that? Well, after that Harry would dream. He would smell strange flavours, hear voices talking, feel foreign things on his skin, and would taste otherworldly foods on his tongue. But no matter what he dreamt of, it always terrified him. It didn't hurt, or scared him, not really. But the sheer helplessness he would feel alsways horrified Harry. He had no control whatsoever over his situation, he wouldn't be able to see (his favourite sense of all) and would be unnerved even for days after the dream. That's why he dreaded Marges visits. It wasn't because of the pain. Pain was something he could handle. All pain fades after a certain amount of time. But this dreams were an entirely different matter. Somehow, they always gave him the feeling that he was not alone in his body. And that thought scared, for the lack of a better expression, the living hell out of him.

But enough of that. Harry had to focus on the present. The doorbell rang again and he already heard the barking of one Marges dogs. Petunia, Vernon and Dudley hurried to the door, with Harry in tow.

"Marge!", Vernon boomed happily after he opened the door. His voice overtuned even the doogs barking.

"How long has it been?", he asked after he had hugged his sister.

"Oh, you know, it has been a while", Marge Dursley boomed equally loud as Vernon.

Marge was big woman. While not as fat as her younger brother she was by no means small. Dirty blonde hair covered her head and her beady, brown eyes scanned the room. Upon discovering Harry her brows furrowed and her eyes glinted with uncealed malice. Behind her a large, black bulldog began to bark and tear at its leash.

Crap, Harry thought It's Ripper.

Ripper was easily the most agressive and ferocious of Marges twelve bulldogs and seemed to posess something akin to hatred for Harry. He had no idea at all why this could be the case, but fact was that this particular dog hated his guts and surely would love to sink his teeth in just those.

Even though Ripper had stopped to bark after a sharp order from Marge he still leered at Harry. Saliva dribbled from his maw and a low growl escaped his throat. Harry meanwhile was determined to not show any fear. He swallowed the lump in his throat and locked eyes with the dog. And, oh wonder, it worked! A little bit. Ripper stopped his growl and blinked in simething akin to confusion. Even Harry was suprised. A smile spread on his face and he shot a triumphant look in Marges direction. But as soon as he broke eye contact with Ripper the dog started to bark even louder than before, thus reminding the Dursleys of Harrys presence.

Without a word Marge pushed he considerably large coat onto Harry, expecting him to hang it on the hook. and in doing so she effectively shoved him onto the hard floor. A cruel grin spread on her rather obese face and she followed the Dursleys into the house, pulling Ripper with her.

Even though he was familiar with the procedure, Harry couldn't help but being angry. This condescending treatment infuriated him every time. He halfheartedly thought about opening the door and trying to run away right now. At least the giant coat would be more than enough of a blanket for him. But again something told him not to do that. And even though he still had no idea who or even what this, well, not really voice, but more a certain feeling, was, he dismissed the idea of running away.

Next time, he swore to himself. Next time we will run away and never ever come back.

If there will even be a next time that is..., a more cynical part of his mind thought.

45 minutes and 5 dishes later:

The big moment was there. The Dursleys had finished their meal and the "hunt" would soon be beginning. Harry silently stood at the wall, near the open garden door. He had a small knife, made for cutting fruit, in his pocket and grapped it nervously. Ripper had been lying near Marges feet throughout the whole meal and seemed to sleep peacefully. But Harry could tell that he wasn't. Occasionally his eyes would open and look at him, or the dog would lift its head and sniff the air. His leash was held loosely in Marges hand. She had just told the Dursleys that Ripper hadn't been fed for a whole day and therefore would be very eager to strech his legs a little bit. As soon as she had said that she let go of Rippers leah. The effect was instantaneous; he jumped from his spot, gave a triumphant bark and shot in Harrys direction. The hunt was on.

Harry meanwhile wasted no time and ran through the open door and out in the rather large garden. His destination was clear: the big tree near the fence. If he was able to get up there then he'd be safe from Ripper and any attacks he might try.

The tree was about 30 Meters away from him at the moment. If he just could make it there before Ripper then-

RAWOOF!

A loud bark disturbed his thougts. He turned around and saw Ripper behind him. Saliva flew from his mouth and his lips were curled back, exposing his teeth. He was gaining on Harry.

20 meters.

Don't look back, Harry chanted in his head. Don't look back, he's not there, he won't get you, just keep running, don't stumble, or you won't make it up the tree, Harry. You need your run-up to do this.

10 Meters.

He was nearly there. Just a few more steps and he'd be safe!

5 meters.

So close! He was so close! Just one more step and he'd be-

Something heavy landed on him and Harry fell head first into the dirt. A burning pain erupted in his right shoulder and Harry screamed. Ripper was laying on him and had bitten into his shoulder. He tried to get up, but the dog was too heavy. He was just a frail 10-year old child after all.

The knife!, it shot through his head. Despite the pain he grabbed into his pocket and took out the small knife. He took it and swung it blindly at the beast on his back. A loud yelp could be heard and the weight on his back disappeared. Harry turned around and tried to stand up. Ripper cowered some steps before him. a small, but nontheless painful gash was visible on his back. The dog turned around and growled angrily. He ducked and his muscles tensed. He was ready to jump.

Harry grapped his knife so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Come on!", he shouted defiantly. And Ripper came for him. He jumped, and even though Harry tried to sidestep the dog still landed on him and tackled him down. The air was pressed out of his lungs and the knife flew out of his hand. Ripper opened his jaws and aimed for Harrys throat but Harry was able to block the attack with his arm. Rippers mouth closed around it and snapped shut. Pain erupted as his skin was pierced and his frail bones cracked. He tried to move his arm, but to no avail.

Ripper let go of his extremity and tried to bite Harrys throat again. But in the meanwhile he had found what he had searched for: his knife. He grapped it and stabbed it to the hilt in Rippers left flank. The dog howled out loud in pain but didn't stop his onslaught. On the contrary, he seemed to become mad with rage and bit down on Harry again. And this time he hit his enemy sucessfully.

Harry managed to twist his head out of the way and thus Rippers jaws merely closed around Harrys other shoulder. Pain erupted again, but this time it was different. Somehow he felt quite numb. And then, suddenly...

Rage.

Pure, unadultered rage streamed through Harrys body. The fury seemed to spark a fire within him, that hadn't been there before. Harrys vision turned more and more red. No, not red. Purple. His sight became sharper and clearer and time seemed to slow down. Suddenly only one thought filled his mind;

HUNGER.

It was overwhelming. Never before had he felt so hungry. Never before had he felt anything as strong as this. He couldn't even think of anything else. Consequently he did the most obvious thing to satiate his hunger:

He turned and twisted his body and bit Ripper. He didn't know how, or why his teeth managed to penetrate Rippers skin. He didn't even notice that they did until he tasted a foreign liquid in his mouth. No, it wasn't entirely foreign. He knew this taste. He had tasted it once before. In one of this strange dreams that he always had when he was badly hurt. And it tasted good.

Now it was Ripper who howled out loud in pain and anguish. But Harry didn't care. He turned around and trapped Rippers body between his and the earth with an unnatural strength that even the monstrous dog wasn't able to overcome.

Again and again did Harry tear into Rippers flesh. Without thought without regret, without mercy. He bit everything that happened to get between his teeth. Rippers legs, the flank, even the head.

Not even a two minutes had passed since the hunt had begun when Marge came out into the garden. The loud howls of her favourite dog had alarmed her and she wanted to see what was going on. But she would never forget what she saw out there under the tree.

Her dog lied, bloody and beaten, on the ground. Harry was bent over him. His mouth was bloody, his shoulders torn and covered in red. And his eyes pulsed in a deep, unnatural purple. No iris, no pupil, nothing was visible. Just a swirling vortex of violet. Quite opposite to his normally green irises.

"OH MY GOD!", she shouted and wobbled as fast as she could towards Rippers broken form. The downed dog was still breathing, albeit barely. His whole right flank was bloody and torn, one of his legs broken, so much flesh ripped away that the bone was visible.

Harry backed away, slowly waking up from his rampage. His head hurt. All four Dursleys had gathered in the garden. Their eyes were filled with fear and hatred. But Harry didn't care. All he knew was that his head hurt like hell. The pounding grew stronger and stronger, eventually overtuning everything.

His whole world began to spin and he sank to the ground, curling into a fetal position. Darkness crept alongside his eyes, slowly but surley blackening his vision. His eyes grew heavy and darkness encompassed Harry. Something warm and wet crept up alongside him, until it had covered him completely. And finally, the pounding i his head stopped. And the dream began.

Welp folks, that's it. The first chapter of Into the Void! Took me certainly a while to write. The whole beginning might seem a bit unstructured and maybe even chaotic. But I can assure you, that in time a lot of unasnewerd questions will be answered. But, what did you think? Any opinions, questions, or maybe even advise?

English is not my first language so my grammar, my expressions and/or my tenses might be a bit faulty. I apologize for that and I hope that my english will improve over time!

Cya in the next chapter!