Project Apophis: 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 throughout the story: all rights belong to their original, respective, creators: I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: HaikenEdge's The Hunger Response: The Dursleys thought they could lock Harry up and starve him? They were wrong! They thought nobody knew of his special talents? They were wrong! They thought getting rid of him meant it was over? That's three strikes: you're out!

Prompt Information: The Hunger: Harry Potter can and will eat anything. It started small, a nail in the cupboard because he had been sent to bed without dinner, but then it began to escalate, until the government found out about him and paid off the Dursleys to take him into government custody, where they experimented on him by feeding him just about anything they could think of. By the time he's at Hogwarts, he's eaten entire cars, several terrorists, a building and possibly a small island off the coast of Brazil. His solution to every problem is "I'm a eat it!"

Author's Note: So, in looking up some new and interesting stories to read on-site, I accidentally stumbled onto the profile page of the FFN member HaikenEdge, which led me to a series of 'plot bunnies' that, even on their page, HaikenEdge said to PM if interested.

Well, boy, was I interested.

Now, I know some of you may be disheartened because I have other works in motion at the moment, but, hey, that's the fun of fanfiction and the curse of inspiration being a right, royal Um-bitch!

So, let the madness spread.

And, as always, don't like, don't read; don't have anything nice to say in reviews, don't post reviews.

Recommended Reads: Harry Potter and the Hermetic Arts, Harry Potter and the Physical Adept and Harry Potter and the Runecraft of the Norns by HaikenEdge, Trickshot and Bonded by JustBored21, Ignore the Dementor by NinjaPandaScholar, Death Makes Equal, The Necromancer and The Darkening Of Your Soul by MaeglinYedi, Seventh Horcrux by Emerald Ashes, Green Eyed Beast by MrWriterWriter, Shrinking Solution by unquenchable69, Weres Harry? By DobbyElfLord, Kill me if you can and The Overpowered Gamer by PercyPendragon3, Harry Is A Dragon, And That's Okay by Saphroneth, Core Threads by theaceoffire and The Thief of Hogwarts by bluminous8

Key Pairing: Harry/Rhea (OFC)

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Chapter 1: You Can't Deprive A Growing Boy of His Food

It started with a nail.

At the time, it seemed like such a small, silly thing, maybe even a crazy thing.

But, for a long time, Harry James Potter had been starved of attention, of love, of respect, of care, of health and, especially, of food, drink and the sort of basic essentials that anyone else would call normal to help a growing boy become a fine, upstanding young man.

To flip the script, his cousin, Dudley Dursley, together with his Uncle, Vernon Dursley, never seemed to stop growing, though their way of growing was more outwards than upwards, and three guesses who it was that had often cooked their meals and made sure they didn't stop growing?

Yep, Harry.

And did he get thanked?

No.

Did he get to enjoy the fruits of his labours?

No.

Did he even get acknowledged when some guest, or somebody else, talked about the excellent nosh and complimented the chef?

No.

All Harry got was yelled at, beaten and thrown into his cupboard under the stairs for lazing about and trying to make the place look untidy.

So, when, on one weird, mysterious night, the then-five-year-old Harry decided he was hungry enough to actually consider eating something he knew he shouldn't eat, if only because it might poison him or cut him open on the way down, even he couldn't have imagined how strange his life would be after that day.

But, on the plus side…

The nail was delicious.

So much so that, before that night was done, Harry had happily ingested, crunched up, chewed and swallowed every loose and abandoned nail in the cupboard under the stairs.

He might not have had a filling meal, but, still, Harry rubbed his belly while he reminded himself of one small fact.

You didn't deprive a growing boy of his food.

Wasn't that what Aunt Petunia always told people who asked about Dudley's rapidly-growing waistline?

Apophis

Two days after the nail incident, while Harry decided to sample a new flavour in his cupboard – namely a spring in his worn-out mattress that usually ended up scratching him if he turned over, but, on that occasion, made for a yummy snack – he was surprised when, without warning, his Uncle came to his cupboard.

"Out."

He didn't say anything more than that: the only thing he did was reach in and drag Harry out by the scruff of his neck when the boy hesitated; once out in the passageway, Harry turned to look around the hallway, if only to see what could have caused his Uncle to act so weirdly, and so aggressively, when he was sure he hadn't done anything wrong.

That was when he first met the man that he would often refer to, for reasons that will soon become clear, as The Maître D.

At the time, he'd been a mysterious-looking gentleman, dressed in a snappy-looking suit and tie, with gloves on his hands, finely-polished shoes on his feet, a briefcase held in one of his hands while the other checked an ornate-looking silver pocket watch. As the watch snapped shut again, the Maître D looked to Harry with eyes that made Harry think of the colour of blueberries before he sniffed once and cleared his throat.

"Is this the boy?" asked the Maître D in a silky voice, the sound of which made Harry think of a serpentine hiss, mixed with an unusual air of warmth and curiosity, as the Maître D looked from him to Vernon.

"Yes sir," said Vernon, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry: since when did his do-as-I-say-or-else Uncle call anyone sir?

"Hello boy," drawled the Maître D, looking Harry up and down before, pocketing his silver fob watch, he beckoned to Harry, "Come here, child; let me have a look at you…it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."

Even though he was a little anxious about the Maître D's intentions, Harry did as he was told as he moved away from Vernon and towards the Maître D, still wondering exactly who this man was, and what he might want with Harry. When the boy reached him, Maître D looked Harry up and down even closer before, to Harry's surprise, the Maître D reached out with his free gloved hand and, gently, massaged the boy's stomach.

As Harry looked down in bewilderment, the Maître D smiled before, leaning in close to Harry, he asked, "Hmm…interesting…my, my, my; have we had a little snack this morning?"

Harry gasped.

Did he know?

How?

It had only been two days since he'd been crazy enough, and hungry enough, to eat his cupboard's spare nails and, even then, nobody had seen him: he was sure of it, especially since his Uncle had already taken the liberty of locking Harry in his cupboard in the first place.

And nobody had been there.

So how did the Maître D know of him?

As he worried about being seen, or even being spied on, Harry heard the Maître D whisper in his soft, snakelike-hiss of a voice, "Don't be afraid, Harry Potter; I know all about your special gift…and me and my comrades wish to help you nurture it…you could say, we want to give you all you can eat…what do you think? Sound good?"

Harry could only stare in bewilderment, before he saw the Maître D's smile fade as he straightened up again, "Very well then, Mr Dursley: as agreed, here is the requested price…"

Price?

Harry only had a moment to turn before he saw his Uncle snatch the case from out of the air, opening it with a greedy look in his eyes, the sight of which made Harry's blood run cold, while his belly suddenly churned uncomfortably, like the spring he'd snacked on was being eaten alive by much stronger acids than the ones in his tummy.

Had his Uncle…the Dursleys…had they…had they sold him to the Maître D?

Vernon's answer gave Harry his.

"And you're certain, Mr Smith? He won't be coming back?"

"All rights of attorney, guardianship and home-living conditions have already been approved and transferred, as per our arrangement," replied the Maître D – or Mr Smith, as Harry had known him before he later started calling him the Maître D – lowering the hand he'd used to throw the case at Vernon as he explained, "Furthermore, my comrades have already ensured that any reference to you or your family having any association with young Mr Potter, right down to his very blood, are now null and void…as far as anyone else knows, you and your family are just the three of you…"

Here, Harry saw Mr Smith smile in a way that made Harry think of a crocodile before he added, "Well worth my parting with £50,000, wouldn't you agree, Mr Dursley? Money well spent and we both get what we want."

Vernon just laughed like the madman he was, before Mr Smith cleared his throat as he added, "Well then, I suppose we'll be off; no point in me asking if there are any heartfelt goodbyes to be said, are there? No; I didn't think so…come on, Harry, your new home awaits."

On the one hand, Harry knew he should be happy that he was being taken away from the Dursleys, by someone who, apparently, was willing to shell out a lot of money to get him, and clearly wanted him to be there too.

But, on the other hand, he still had that awkward feeling in the pit of his belly…

Or maybe, he was just hungry, who knows?

So, talk about weird, spooky and funny all at the same time: Harry's found a flavour he likes, but, in his fun, he's also found a mysterious new guardian: who is Mr Smith/The Maître D, and what does he want with our hero?

Plus, if it all began with a nail and a five-year-old's rumbly tummy, how might it end?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Mr Smith/The Maître D introduces Harry to his new home, while our hero also discovers a shocking, but not unwelcome truth behind the stranger's willing buying of the Boy-Who-Lived;

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayal

Mr Smith/The Maître D: Mark Sheppard