Chapter 1
Harry Potter was a smart boy, one extremely perceptive for his age. But there are just some things a child could not understand. As his stay with the Dursleys began, Harry could not understand why he had to sleep in a basket at the foot of Dudley's cosy cot. He could not understand why the blond child who fussed and fidgeted and who wailed and kicked was allowed to play with the nice toys and open the colourfully wrapped presents under the tree while he was locked in the nursery. He could not understand why the horse-faced woman smiled and cuddled the chubby boy for the simplest acts when he was frowned at and smacked on occasions when he did better. He could not understand why the bulky man with the sausage fingers could never remember his name, or turned red with anger and panic every time he was in the vicinity. None of this he understood, but he did learn quickly that drawing attention to himself was a very bad idea. So Harry Potter became a quiet and observant child, taking everything in with his large green eyes, never uttering a sound when his cousin would push him into the door or steal his pitiful portion of food.
When Harry turned two, he was moved down into the cupboard under the stairs as 'little diddlydums' required more space (at the rate he was growing, that wasn't much of a surprise) and according to the man with the many chins, it was time Dudley stopped having to put up with the freakishness that Harry seemed to represent. The boy with solemn green eyes didn't mind the arrangement awfully since it meant less time spent in the presence of his spoiled cousin and gaining some much needed solidarity for himself.
A year of being with the Dursleys had transformed the healthy outgoing baby that was Harry Potter into a quiet and introverted child. He no longer spoke unless it was desperately required and avoided eye contact less it evoked an adverse response from his guardians as it has several times before.
"What are you looking at you freak?" Vernon growled shoving the toddler roughly to the side as Dudley absorbed the scene with pleasure.
"Don't you look at me that way you ungrateful boy!" Petunia voiced shrilly, shoving Harry back into his cupboard without dinner yet again.
He was small for his age, his physical development stunted by the lack of nutrition. This made it all the easier for the blubbering blond to push him around and his pale skin from lack of sunlight was always marred with scrapes and bruises. Although Harry never outwardly fought back, he never gave in to the wills of those around him either, settling instead for quiet contempt and resentment. He resisted this domestic oppression through small acts of rebellion, not notable enough to get him into trouble but enough to represent small victories of defiance to the toddler. He would purposely walk slower when commanded to fetch an item, or spit into Dudley's bath water when filling the tub for the blond blob.
One thing that Harry did pride himself in was his intelligence. At the age of three, he had rapidly consumed all the books bought for Dudley after teaching himself to read. His cousin on the other hand, still struggled with the alphabet while his Aunt deluded herself into thinking she had given birth to a genius. It was at around this time that his guardians decided he was old enough to carry out more chores. So Harry found himself scrubbing the floors, cleaning the dishes and weeding the garden. One hot afternoon, Harry snuck a short break under the bushes in the cool shade after four hours of gardening. As he crawled under the overlapping branches, a movement near his arm caused the boy to freeze. Hissing, a small garden snake made its escape, disappearing into the undergrowth. Dropping to his stomach as an unknown feeling washed through him, the boy squeezed his emerald eyes shut. He felt like he was on fire, as if a battle raged inside his body, two forces clashing, repelling – and then it was gone. After checking himself over for any damage, Harry wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. Reminding himself to watch for potentially dangerous critters he returned to weeding.
When Dudley turned five, Harry attended school for the first time. The excitement at the prospect of meeting new people and perhaps even making some friends was washed down the drain as Dudley, the biggest boy in class, made it clear on the first day that he would not tolerate anyone who dared to associate with his freak of a cousin. And so Harry maintained his status as a loner, preferring to spend all his time during the breaks burrowed in the relative safety of the school library (as Dudley seemed to have somehow developed a phobia of books). In their second year of school, during a particular lunch break when the library was shut for restocking, Harry found himself hunted down like an animal by Dudley and his friends, all brawn and no brains the lot of them. Running down an empty corridor as fast as his small form could take him with the sound of hollering and pounding feet behind him, Harry wished with all his might that he could get away and avoid yet another beating. Bursting into the afternoon glare he attempted to dive behind an empty dumpster before fire engulfed him. That feeling, opposing forces inside him, ripping him apart, tearing – he collapsed, body sprawled over the cold hard concrete. It was not long before the Dudder's gang caught up with him, kicks and punches, insults and snarls rained down upon him and all Harry could do was attempt to curl up tighter and wait out his punishment. That afternoon, clothes torn and tattered, face bruised and bloodied the boy with the dull green eyes dragged his limping form in the direction of 'home'. One consolation was Dudley's absence, having long gone in the brand new Ford Vernon had purchased.
And so it went on, with books as his only companions, Harry Potter soon became prodigy-like in terms of his knowledge and intellect. Having issued himself a library card at the local library, the boy visited whenever he could, transporting back on his little trolley pile after pile of precious books. This was one of the few privileges he was allowed, Vernon learnt that as the boy's legal guardian he was responsible for any damage done to the books out under Harry's name and gave up destroying the checked out items after learning it the hard way through a bill of 274.50 pounds. So at the tender age of eight, Harry Potter moved onto advanced physics, calculus and chemistry, three of his favourite subjects. However his people skills were nowhere near the level of academics he had attained, in fact they were well below average. Harry no longer sought human companionship as he might have once had, instead preferring to keep to himself. Truth be told, the idea of socialising with other human beings frightened him, though he'll never admit it.
During the summer break of his third year of schooling, a seemingly insignificant event changed Harry's life forever.
It was a week off his ninth birthday and the green-eyed boy was slaving over a hot stove preparing the Dursley's dinner as per usual when the phone rang. Giving the chowder one last stir, he quickly put the lid on the pot and left it to simmer. Picking up the phone he rushed upstairs and with a polite knock on the master bedroom, he left the phone outside the door before heading back to check on the meal. Moments later heavy footsteps announced the arrival of one Vernon Dursley, brows furrowed the heavy-set man made his way to the living room where his wife Petunia and son Dudley were totally engrossed by the latest reality show on telly. Harry cocked his head, straining to pick up the conversation as his Uncle began to talk.
"Bad news and good news Pet." Vernon began, low baritone grumbling away. "Which shall it be first?"
"Well best get the bad over and done with then." His Aunt replied, voice as shrill as ever.
"Marge broke her leg. Tripped over that dog of hers I believe. Nothing too serious from what I've heard but she won't be going anywhere for a while."
Harry silently snorted, a gleeful smirk tugging at his lips. That woman had that one coming, how blissfully ironic.
"And the good news dad?" Dudley perked, voice pitched in a permanent whine.
"Well she won these tickets to the States through some holiday programme or other. Was going to go with some friends, but not anymore obviously. She's kindly bestowing the package onto us, lovely lady isn't she?"
'Friends?' Thought Harry derisively. 'As if she had any.'
"That's wonderful Vernon!" Petunia gushed. "We haven't been on a holiday for so long! We're not taking the boy of course-"
Noises of agreement all round.
"I'll find someone to take him tomorrow."
"Good love. Can't have the freak ruin everything." Vernon nodded with satisfaction.
Harry swallowed, it was no surprise they were going to dump him on someone, it's always been this way after all. Even so he could not help but be disappointed. America! Imagine the things he could have seen! The natural landmarks, the museums…but it didn't matter really. He was going to spend the rest of the holidays looking at photos of dead cats if his relatives had their way.
The boy shook his head and slid his attention back to dinner. It's become much of a dilemma lately, the whole cooking scheme. Cook food too nice and the greedy trio would just gobble it all up leaving nothing to him, cook food too mundane and a complaint will be issued and he still won't get any dinner. Best way about it was to sneak food while cooking, however this was also becoming problematic as sausage man had a tendency to patrol and check up on him at the worst of times.
'Speak of the devil.' Harry inwardly cursed and dropped the ladle back into the pot as Vernon stuck his head through the door. Piggy eyes squinting with suspect the man growled.
"Hurry it up boy. We're wasting away in here."
Carefully scooping up the chowder into bowls, Harry bit back an angry retort that no he doubt that would be happening any time soon, if ever. Keeping his brilliant green eyes cast downwards he mumbled an obedient 'yes Uncle Vernon' before serving the family that was already seated around the table, eyes still glued to the telly.
Dinner that night was good, which meant Harry didn't get any. Sighing after he finished cleaning up and scrubbing the floors, the boy trudged back into his cupboard. So consumed by weariness, he didn't even bother starting the new book he acquired, 'Quantum physics explained', opting instead to go straight to bed. That night Harry woke up several times from dreams he couldn't quite remember, but the feeling of unease remained and he gave up going back to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Pulling on a tattered old shirt and pants way to big (courtesy of another year of hand me downs from Dudley) Harry decided to get an early start of the chores for the day.
Come Monday afternoon found Harry working in the garden. Dudley was away with his acquaintances probably getting up to no good as usual, while Petunia and Vernon were busy arranging ways to get rid of him for the remainder of the holidays.
The screech of tyres and the slam of car doors announced their arrival back from the Smithers. An angry exchange of words followed and Harry peaked from his place behind the garden shed in curiosity.
"How was I supposed to know she's just had a baby? I didn't even know she was pregnant!" Petunia did what she did best and screeched.
"Well now what? That was our last resort! Watson is away on business, damn the man and his workaholic mentality. Your other friend Amy or Amelia or something is away visiting family. Mrs. Figg has disappeared to goodness knows where probably adopting another cat knowing her and of course none of my associates can take him. I won't allow the freak to ruin my reputation at work!" Vernon rambled ramming his meaty fists up and down in frustration.
"And I'm supposed to just snap my fingers and solve everything am I? Worse comes down to worst we'll just have to take him with us. Marge gave us enough to cover that." His Aunt retorted, sullen.
At that, Vernon turned a shade of red yet unknown to man and sputtered.
"Take him with us? Are you mad Pet? As if having him here wasn't bad enough, we have to lug that freak of nature with us on holiday to another country?"
"Well the flight is in two days Vernon, I don't see another alternative." Petunia tried to soothe the man. "It won't be too bad Vernon, he can carry the luggage and run errands."
Hidden behind the shed, Harry felt hope swell up in his chest.
Heaving a great sign, sausage man conceded defeat.
"Alright love. He can come, but any funny business I swear he'll be in that cupboard for a month! And in the meantime…" Vernon's voice trailed off as he and his tall bony wife made their way back into the house.
And for the first time in ages, leaning against the garden shed, Harry Potter let a real smile grace his face.
"Are we there yet?" whined Dudley yet again. Leaning forward to stick his round beach ball of a head into the space between the two front seats, eyeing his mother then father.
"I'm bored…and hungry! Couldn't you have gotten a car with a portable telly or something?" He demanded.
Shuffling sounds ensued as Petunia dug through the bag for food to placate her darling 'diddums'. Handing back another packet of crisps she soothed,
"Oh darling, you know we would have. But the rental place just wasn't up to date with the latest models. Mummy promises that after we reach town, we'll go see a film at the cinema alright?"
Harry tuned out his Aunt's sickeningly sweet voice; he wished she would cease the baby talk when conversing with his cousin. After all Dudley was no longer a baby if size was any indication, even if he did still have the mentality of one. Sighing and turning his attention back to the traveller's hand guide Harry jotted down all the places of interest within a 20-mile radius of their next destination.
Sam's all you can eat buffet.
Celadon Mega clothing outlet.
ToysRus HQ…
All the places of interest for his relatives that is.
It's been two whole weeks into their vacation and Harry was starting to wonder at his initial excitement of the trip. The Dursley's did not have the education or the refined taste to ever appreciate the stunning wonders of the Grand Canyon. ("It's just dirt" Dudley complained) or the various museums they had visited before Dudley had thrown such a tantrum that Petunia promised they wouldn't ever go near one again.
Two hours and forty or so minutes later. Vernon made an emergency pit stop as Dudley rushed off to empty the contents of his stomach. In the background Petunia Dursley ranted loudly about issuing a complaint to the manufacturers of ETA chips since their low quality product had made her poor baby so sick. Personally, Harry thought it was the whole multi-tasking that did it as Dudley had tried to eat, complain, and play his game boy all at once. The blond blob just didn't have the brain capacity to carry out more than one task at once and soon went green with nausea.
Vernon decided where they had stopped was a good place as any to pause for lunch and Harry soon found himself lugging out the basket and blankets and preparing a picnic lunch somehow with the squashed veggies and frozen salami they had. Meanwhile Dudley had made a full recovery and was being a nuisance as he poked and prodded at Harry while he worked.
The place wasn't anything special thought Harry, as he wondered off searching for the blanket Dudley had tried to parasail with. The rest of the family sat a few feet behind him in the long grass, busy stuffing their faces with food. It was a rather mountainous region with dark green patches of forest capping the distant hilltops while grassy areas lined the lonely road. There must have been a power station nearby, concluded Harry upon sighting the tall towers along with transformers that were responsible for transporting electrical power to various towns in the surrounding area. Harry continued his brisk walk until he finally spotted the runaway blanket caught on a protruding limb on one of the towers. Gazing upwards, Harry felt a cold feeling settle at the bottom of his stomach. There was no way he was going to get that, swallowing he decided to head back and announce the blanket to be lost for good.
"Well aren't you going to get that boy?"
Harry jumped. Behind him stood Vernon Dursley, who apparently had finished his lunch and came to seek out his no-good nephew for clean up duty. Arms crossed, the beefy man stood, an almost satanic grin upon his face. Prodding the boy forward he mocked.
"Well show us your skills boy. Lets see how well you can climb." By now Dudley had joined his father. Eyes glinting the boy waited, looking for a chance, any chance to teach his abnormal cousin a lesson – with his fists.
Seeing no way out of the situation Harry edged forward until he came to a stop directly beneath the tower with the black and red blanket flapping in the wind. Black like death with a spattering of blood, an ominous sign if he ever saw one. Rubbing his hands down his pant legs, the small black-haired boy began to climb.
Relax, he told himself, just don't touch anything you're not supposed to and you won't die a painful death. Silently snorting at the reassurance he was getting from himself, Harry continued upwards. It was bloody hard work especially for someone his size but every time the boy looked down two blubbery pink figures would glare back up at him, daring him to even consider coming back without a haul. It seemed to take forever but he finally came to eyelevel with the blanket, tauntingly waving at him in the wind. Carefully he reached out, trying to grab it by a corner. Three times it took him but he finally got it, pulling he tried to un-snag the blanket from where it was caught. It was then, that a gust rose out of nowhere. Screaming it came down at him. The boy rubbed his eyes fruitlessly, trying to clear out the specks of dirt that had lodged themselves on the inside of his eyelids. The other hand he kept curled tight in a firm grip, refusing to let the flapping blanket go without a fight. With both hands out of action in terms of balance, a final gust of wind tilted the boy forward and gave the blanket enough force to pull him from the main body of the tower and Harry found himself falling.
Reaching out in panic for anything that would slow his descent Harry grabbed the very thing he had warned himself not to touch – the power lines.
A horrendous amount of power surged through the boy. And seconds later came the sickening thud as his body impacted with the ground.
Dudley was having the time of his life as he watched his nervous cousin climb up the tower. Pausing now and then, the blond could see the discomfort and tension in the small figure and a grin lit his face. When the freak had finally reached the blanket, Dudley pouted with disappointment, the show was nearly over.
But then, the boy fell.
For the first time in his life, Dudley was afraid. Afraid for the dark haired boy that was his cousin. Beside him, he felt his father tense and then they were both running.
The sight they came upon was not pretty. Smoking slightly, with his fleshed charred and burnt Harry Potter lay on the ground. His whole demeanour was twisted with limbs at unnatural angles. Dudley could even see a part of a rib poking out of the mangled form. Taking a hurried step back, the blond boy threw up for the second time that day.
Vernon knelt beside the body, rigid with shock. Eyes dilating with panic he checked a pulse and found none. Backing away he picked up his sick son and sprinted back to his ignorant wife who was still trying to boil water for tea. Petunia's eyes widened with shock upon seeing the state of her husband and son. Eyes darting, Vernon was practically foaming at the mouth when he spoke.
"Accident… Freak dead…Have to leave…NOW!" The last word came out as a strangled moan.
Petunia dared not question her shaking husband. One look at her poor shocked baby, noting the absence of the boy she had come to view as a burden, a light of understanding lit Petunia's eyes. Obediently packing their belongings she ushered them towards the car. And that was how three frightened and pale Dursleys drove off in their old rental car, going at speeds far exceeding the limit to disappear over the next hilltop. In the small vehicle Petunia Dursley spoke in rushed tones, booking three seats on the next flight back to England.
Harry Potter lay where he landed. Green eyes glazed and not a breath stirred, he appeared very dead indeed. But betraying the calm outer surface, beneath the mangled exterior two powerful forces that resided within him worked together for the first time.
Unbeknownst to Harry, he was the boy-who-lived, a wizard with a large pool of inner magic at his disposal. However he was also the first mutant in the wizarding world to have survived through pregnancy to birth. Due to the incompatibility of his mutant cells and the magic that lived within him, Harry was not able to access either of the powers. The two forces acting destructively upon each other and acting as natural blocks whenever he unconsciously called upon them. Now, however, after being purged with electrical power that has all but destroyed his body and along with it weakened the powers that arose due to his mutancy, the magic locked within him came to life in a desperate attempt to keep its master alive. Weaving through the boy's body, powerful healing magic came to play speeding up the natural growth rate of cells and regenerating vital organs. Because the mutant DNA is ingrained within him, in attempting to heal his body Harry's magic became intertwined with his mutant powers as they slowly awakened once more. The two forces once incompatible became merged through this process, coming together to form a working but chaotic centre point.
Outwardly the wounds instilled upon his broken body were rapidly disappearing as green-gold fire pulsed through his form, coming from deep within him. Forty-nine minutes spent in 'clinical death' beforetheboytook his first breathe again. As feeling came back to him, Harry Potter took up an almost peaceful expression. He felt whole for the first time in his life.
A/N: Review for more! A good response and I will continue :P