Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter or MCU/Marvel, all rights reserved to J.K. Rowling's and The Walt Disney Company.
AN: Hello my dear readers, what you're seeing here is chapters 1 through 3 of my original fanfiction, put together to have a more consistent and longer chapter length that appears later on in the story
Chapter One: Rough Start in a New World
A very wise wizard once said that "Death is just another path, one that we all must take", and like a certain wizard, I fell through fire and water to meet that path. Plane crashes into the ocean with burning engines will tend to give that effect, though unlike Gandalf, I had no Balrog to slay at my end. Though the next thing I know, I'm waking up and looking around myself to see a forest, silver light bathing the landscape, casting pitch-black shadows.
Rolling over to try and get up I pause, seeing that as I look down, the hands of a child are what meet my sight, rather than my own adult hands. Yet when I think of my own hands, I realize I can't remember just who I am, my heart beating like a drum in my chest at the realization.
Forcing myself to take a deep, shuddering breath I try to think back to what I can remember and what seems to be missing. I remember the black and white keys of a piano, the soft cords of Chopin's etude Op. 25 No. 11, the Winter Wind making their introduction before merging into a passionate descending arpeggio. Fire running up my spine and lighting from my fingers as they played out Rachmaninoff's concerto no. 2, the orchestra crescendoing behind me. Music was a never-ending passion for me, piano my form of expression, and using my voice on the side as well, emotion given form. But my name? Like smoke long gone, not even a hint to what was. My family? My friends? Anything that could be about me, not even a whisper in a crowd, simply a void of what might have been. A child anew.
I know I loved to read everything from fiction to fanfiction, taking it all in, and living in a world of what could be. Harry Potter was a great love of mine, having read the books more than once and devoured fanfiction after fanfiction, but I read all kinds of stories, and watched a plethora of movies and TV, all of it being a way to bring color and fun to the world. A woman lost in music and fantasy, but through all of that, nothing could shed light on who I was, simply my passion and what I liked, bringing a hollow feeling to my chest.
Working to get up again I stumble slightly, the shadows seeming to darken and crawl towards me, a black tar creeping forward, making the world around me spin. Falling again, I have to grab my head, memories of who I am now and how I got here filling my mind like a torrential flood. Potter. Harry Potter? No, Elizabeth Violet Potter, that's, that's who I am now.
I remember the Dursleys, being treated like their slave, tossed underneath the cupboard under the stairs like unwanted trash. Freak! Trash! Burden! Monster! All of these being hurled at me, used like a name, unworthy of a real one unless in front of others. The burn of leather on my back, the meaty sweat-covered fist of my uncle, the dull agony of broken bones, and the coppery scent of my own blood permeating the air.
Ah! Four years! Four years the slave and whipping girl of my aunt and uncle, my cousin learning from them, pushing me when he could. Vernon with his burning leather belts and heavy fists, Petunia with her toxic words and blatant loathing, and even Dudley, my cousin, learning along the way. My own faster than average healing doing its part to hide the damage after about a week, a curse, and a blessing.
But where? How did I get here? But as soon as the question rang through my head, the answer surfaced, a memory trying to hide away, a beaten puppy shying away from the approaching hand.
Vernon took us to Japan, his company looking into new and better technology to deal with their drill bits. Though complaining about not needing any foreign machines or the help of foreigners, he took us all to meet with the business in question. Soon after the meeting started the deal quickly fell through, Vernon's atrocious manners and obvious disdain of the Japanese man playing into that largely, but in the mind of the fat walrus, I was to blame.
ΩΩΩ
"You little freak! It's all your fault! If it wasn't for you and your freakishness dirtying this good family, we wouldn't be in this situation!" He ranted, his rage casting a red hue over his face.
"B-but…" I tried to say, but he went on, ignoring me.
"Dealing with bloody japs and asking for their help. British-made should be good enough! But no. Even now, your freakishness is ruining my good name, making this deal fall through!" He raged, spittle flying from his mouth like rain.
"A freak, just like her no-good parents Vernon, we should never have taken her in" Petunia said snidely, her face scrunched up like she smelt something foul, or saw her own reflection.
"I will not have it! I won't have this freak with this family any longer! Not if I have anything to say about it" Vernon shouted, veins bulging, a vicious sheen building upon his forehead.
"Vernon?" Petunia asked, confusion marring her brow.
"I will not have this blight on this family any longer Petunia, the freak has to go!" he harshly whispered to his wife, a scowl plain to see.
She seemed to pause, hesitating before looking at my trembling form, looking at my bright emerald green eyes, like two jewels, at my pitch-black hair that is slightly wild but beautiful nonetheless, a pretty young girl by any standard, the horrors of my life hidden underneath my clothes. Her eyes hardened, filling with foul loathing. "Fine!" she hissed out, "But it can't be leaked back to us. Just get rid of the freak, I'll look after Diddykins while you're gone."
With that he pulled me into the rented car and started driving, me shivering in the seat next to him as we drove and drove and drove, eventually passing a sign, the name Aokigahara written underneath the Japanese writing at the top. After a two-hour drive and thirty minutes going off road, delving deeper and deeper into the forest he pulled to a stop, getting out and pulling me with him soon after.
"Taking you into my home out of the goodness of my heart was the worst mistake I ever made" he muttered, pulling me along with a firm grip on my arm. "But no more! No more of your freakishness, and no more blight on this family" he said, glaring down at me, a pale silver light over his face, casting the shadows of his scowl all the deeper.
B-but, uncle V-verno-" I tried to plead, but was interrupted with a harsh slap in return, seeing him pull out a small knife from the pack at his waist, ice filling my veins at the sight.
"Die here and maybe you can finally do the world some good, freak" he said, thrusting the knife into me right after, pulling it out with a grunt. Seeing me fall to the damp forest floor he muttered a "good riddance" before walking away.
As I lay there, looking into the night sky, I wondered why it didn't hurt besides the first sharp stab, now feeling just a deep cold filling me. The beautiful symphony of light above me a small comfort as the chill and shadows pervaded my body, my eyes dropping as bone-deep tiredness filled me.
So deep was the weight of sleep upon my eyes, that I didn't even notice the freely weeping wound suddenly close up at an astonishing speed, the dark already claiming my mind.
ΩΩΩ
So, he tried to kill me, I recalled, the shock chilling my body for a moment, just as it washed over my mind, tears freely falling, but no real shock as well. I guess I came to a world with one of the worse iterations of the Dursley's, and considering everything they put me through, I can't feel too much shock at what he did, though some surprise that he was willing to go that far still whispered through my mind. And it was to me, that everything happened, because I have some bone deep surety of that.
I feel like this is my life, that it all happened to me, rather than feeling like I took over the life of someone else. At best, I can guess reincarnation with what memories I have now awakened after the attack, though the how or why still alludes me.
But I remember that stab clearly, I can still remember that pain before the bone-deep coldness of shock and blood-loss, but I feel fine now, better than I have felt in a long time actually.
Looking down at where the wound should have been, I see unblemished skin, though stained a dark crimson from the attack. My eyes going over the rest of my body, I don't see any of the old scars or new bruises that should have littered me like Jackson Pollock painting imagined by a cenobite.
Though outside of something like accidental magic, I can't figure out how I'm healed and seemingly in good health for once in a long time. No longer looking like a starving five-year-old, I look like a normal one, albeit a short girl at maybe three foot two inches.
Yet if accidental magic was the case, I don't know why it didn't help more before, outside slightly faster healing, but maybe it wasn't pushed enough? For now, I put the thought to the side, not being able to find an answer, and more memories start surfacing, memories of my dad and mom.
I remember my dad holding me close, dancing around the house, prancing along with pride at me, having already turned his hair pink with a short burst of magic, even so young. I remember seeing his form blur, enlarging into a great stag, much to my awe and giggles at the time, watching him strut around the yard before turning back and picking me up with a smile.
The warmth of his smile as I make my toys float and as I fly on the obstacle course that was our room on the small toy broom my godfather, Sirius got me. The stinging hexes my mom cast at the both of them, showed she found the ordeal far less amusing.
And my mom, holding me close, the heat of her body enveloping me, the soft melodic hum of her lullaby (N1), making my eyes heavy and my heart feel safe. The wave of her wand, showing a shower of colorful harmless sparks and waltzing toys, even as the scent of brewed potions and cut herbs cling to her hands and hair.
How she carried me around the house, holding me close, all the while trying to hide the worry behind her eyes at her family being targeted by the worst Dark Lord in history.
How she always gazed at me with warmth in her eyes, even as she held my dad close, whispered conversations holding hints of stress and fear. Yet through it all, they showered me in an endless love, filled with honeyed words and flower-like kisses, doing their best to keep the approaching evil of the world away from me.
The easy and mirthful smiles of my godfather every time he visited, happy to swing me about the room or cuddle close to me in his grim form.
The bashful and small smiles from Remus as he carefully held me from time to time, as if I was made of the most fragile glass in the world. But they both were family to my dad and mom, the Marauders together facing a deadly war, and doing their best to keep its hungry maw away from me. I loved them all so much it hurt, because they were my world, my everything, they were mine, my pack.
Even as the sniveling rat worried in the background of it all, consumed by fear and jealousy, the silent poison infecting my family, bringing death.
A man who grew up with them who was supposed to be their friend, betrayed it all because of the fear poisoning his mind, the rabid jealousy of the friends surrounding him doing so much better than he could, even as they helped support him. Thinking of it all, I am pulled down into my memory like an unfightable ocean current, ready to drown in the pain that's to come.
I was warm and happy in my bed and that's when I heard it, the door downstairs exploding as my mom was tucking me in.
"Lily, take Elizabeth and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" I heard my dad yell, before hearing a quick exchange of spell-fire.
"Avada Kedavra" Voldemort spoke hearing my dad falling soon after, his heart still.
'No! No! He's mine! You can't take him!' I scream inside my mind as I look back at what happened.
My mom comes close to my crib, tears in her eyes, but a resolute look hardening them all the same, like a blade drawn and ready to protect me.
"Elizabeth, you are so loved. Mama loves you. Dada loves you. Elizabeth, be safe. Be strong." My mother whispers to me, the tears finally falling from her eyes.
'No! Please No! He can't take you mom, please!' I cry out inside my head, tears pouring from my eyes, sorrow constricting my throat like a vice, knowing I can't change the past, but feeling the raw pain of loss like a salted wound, still fresh as the memory replays in my mind. These memories chocking me and crushing my heart.
"I wove you" I say, and she smiles, such a beautiful smile full of love before the door to my room explodes and she turns around, standing in the ritual circle hidden by the carpet.
"Not Elizabeth, not Elizabeth, please not Elizabeth!" my mother cries out as Voldemort points his wand at both of us.
"Stand aside you silly girl!" Voldemort yells at her, giving her an unsaid choice to live or die.
"Not Elizabeth, please no, take me, kill me instead" my mother cries out, making my eyes burn with tears and my heart breaks.
"Fine. Avada Kedavra" Voldemort says and laughs as my mother drops to the floor.
'You killed her. You took her from me. She was mine! My mother! Mine! And. You. Took. Her. From. Me!' I say, rage and hatred burning inside me like the strongest acid at the memory. She was the only mother I knew, she loved me, took care of me, and he took her from me.
My crib shakes from my magic as Voldemort points his wand at me. A sickening smile spreads across his face as he looks at my shacking crib, already starting to crack, knowing he made the right choice in choosing me to end.
"Avada Kedavra" he says before his eyes widen in shock as the green spell shoots back at him after hitting me, destroying him, and causing a wound on my head, unbeknownst to either of us, burning away the ritual circle hidden away. But as soon as the spell hits me my magic lashes out, my will, and desire for my mom fueling it, touching her soul and tethering it, filling me with warmth and love.
If magic can rip and tear a soul, locking it away into an object, why can't accidental magic tether a newly released soul? If Voldemort did something before the attack, preparing to make another soul anchor, that magic could help prepare the way, even more, to connect me and mom together.
When Voldemort screams in agony and fear for a moment before being vaporized, I feel some form of connection through my magic with my mom. At that moment a black wraith of Voldemort manifests before fleeing with a scream of terror, and a small shadow breaks from the wraith and heads toward me. But my mother was closer, and her soul takes the place the wraith tried to go, and it dies screaming as my magic holds the soul of my mother close.
ΩΩΩ
Coming back to myself from my memories I find myself on my damp knees, my throat and eyes momentarily sore before the feeling quickly fades. As I open my eyes, I see my hands on the ground, fisted from the rage and sorrow I felt coursing through me, but more to my shock, I see two blades from each hand sticking out from my fists, a slight pain just now coming to me at their exit.
"What the hell?" I say, shock taking place over my previous rampant emotions, as I look down at the four blades below me, glinting a dull silver as they protrude from between my knuckles, an empty space between them. Having felt that same dull sting in my feet, two blades piece the ground behind me as they jut before my feet, coming out between my big toes. All of them look to be about six inches in length if I had to guess.
"What the hell!" I repeat, an almost high pitch whine ringing through the air at my incredulity at what I'm seeing. I relax my hands and feet slowly, feeling all six blades slowly retracting back into me, sheathed inside my limbs, a sharp cutting pain following in their wake. Though after everything I have suffered already, the pain was largely ignorable, even if noticeable.
Getting up again I make my way to a tree near me, my back cooling with the wetness of my shirt as I lean against it. Bringing my right hand in front of my face, I make a fist, flexing new muscles in my forearm and wrist, slowly pushing the two blades out again. Seeing their metallic shine, a finger from my left hand quickly healing as I test their sharpness before putting them away again.
Yet even with this discovery, the memories of what I lost gnaw at my mind, with powerful rage and sadness in equal measure burning within my heart.
Let alone the love that I felt for both my parents, new instincts seemed to rage inside of me, claiming them as my own in a more primal fashion. They were mine, my family, my pack, my world, and mine to protect as something inside me desired to rage and kill the enemies endangering my pack. Regardless of the fact that there were no longer any enemies for me too rip and tear into, to spill their blood across the ground as I protected what was mine, they growled in the back of my mind like an angry wolf.
It took me more than a few minutes with deep calming breaths to help quiet those feelings clawing within my mind, to push both the sorrow and anger deep within my heart.
I had no enemies to attack, no pack to defend, and no home to call my own except for the silver-lit forest that now surrounds me, a place where people go to die. But even so, I had an enemy to pursue, a man on which I would enact my vengeance upon, showing him the ferocity of my rage.
But in this new world that I have found myself in, I knew that I had a mountain to climb before I could enact my vengeance, to quench my bloodlust, and quiet my rage. Voldemort, no matter his sanity, is still considered a titan within the magical world, and someone whose knowledge and mercilessness could be found in equal measure.
I will need to grasp whatever this world has to offer me and devour whatever magical knowledge I can get my hands on, whatever skills that will help keep me alive, and use whatever I can to annihilate the man that killed my family. Because it is not just the newly awoken instincts within me that cry out for his blood, but I also know that prophecy will guide his obsession with my death just the same.
After a few more minutes of taking slow deep breaths to help calm down, to help quiet these new feelings raging inside of me, I know that I have to enjoy my second chance at life as well. To take in the wonder that this new world has to offer me, to find my remaining family, make new friends, and see how truly wonderful magic can be.
Looking into the night sky, glowing lights strew across the dark like diamonds, another nice quote from Gandalf occurs to me. Seeing the beauty overhead, I think silently, "Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life-age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I have been sent back, until my task is done." Fitting I have to think, having been given a new start for some reason, even if most of my old life is lost to me.
ΩΩΩ
Looking away from the night sky I take in my situation once more, and I guess I'm not just in the Harry Potter world, considering the addition of these claws, though I don't know which Marvel world I might be in as well. I have to hope it's the MCU rather than the comics, since I know that much better, but since I seem to be a mutant as well as a wizard, maybe some mix of comics and the MCU, hopefully.
Though I suppose this explains the memories and how clear they are, with my whole near-death activating my healing mutation, where my magic helped largely before. All those old connections in my brain revitalizing, at least that's my guess, with my magic maybe playing a part as well. Both working together to revitalize my health, though the malnutrition affecting my height can't seem to be helped.
Taking a calming breath again, the taste of nature on my tongue, I start thinking about my new memories and all these new revelations, trying to organize all the chaos and see what applies to what I know from the books. The biggest change is that I hold my mom's soul instead of Voldemort's, which isn't all that crazy considering the reality-warping that is magic.
If you can use magic to tear your soul to pieces, and put them in almost indestructible objects to achieve pseudo immortality, why can't accidental magic tether the soul of the newly dead? Adding in the idea of Voldemort doing some ritual or spell to make another horcrux with my death, at a guess, and whatever ritual my mother might have done, well, anything could happen with so many various variables going on.
Though this does bring the very real possibility of being able to bring her back because if Voldemort can come back with his tethers, I'll make sure mom can do the same. I'll probably have to study rituals, runes, and potions a lot, but something should work, it'll just take time.
Voldemort is still alive, kinda, and his crazy sycophants are either still running around or will be running around in the future, so I need to learn how to fight.
Again, something for the future since I can't do much right now, and I still don't know which Marvel world I'm in now, so I can't pick a teacher that's from that, or in this case, this world yet. I just have to try and survive, for now, taking one day at a time, and maybe stay out here since I don't have many other options and see if I can make it work.
Looking around the shadowed and silver forest, the beat of my heart rising, the sound of my blood rushing like a river fills my head, and I can say I'm apprehensive about my odds. Even with my healing and magic things will be hard but going back to civilization could mean going back to the Dursleys due to Dumbledore. I don't know what version I'm dealing with for him, even in the books he was highly manipulative, or more so, scheming for what he thought was right, while being prideful in his own way.
He made a lot of plans that relied on luck, made a lot of questionable decisions throughout all the books, and hoarded information like a dragon. Even still, I think the old man meant well, maybe, but that doesn't mean his actions weren't bad. Those suspicious tests in first year, not thinking about questioning Myrtle even after all the time she died, letting my godfather rot without a trial when he vouched for Snape, and many other issues.
Honestly, one of the few times I agreed with Snape was when he accused Dumbledore of raising Harry "like a pig for slaughter." Making sure he was willing to martyr himself in the end, because there is no way other than hoping, would he be able to know that Harry would survive the killing curse. Never through all the many trials Harry went through, facing death, again and again, even killing a man as an unprepared eleven-year-old, did Dumbledore offer any real help. Instead, he sent him back to the emotionally abusive Dursleys, cementing his lack of self-worth.
Even thinking about the Dursleys now has something deep inside of me twitching and turning, ready to lash out, spilling their blood over my claws, but it settles as I take another calming breath.
So yeah, even if I'm dealing with book Dumbledore, I don't really trust him all that much, let alone all the different versions of him that could be found in fanfiction. Plus, trying to trust the corrupt Ministry of Magic and that puppet Fudge, with both Malfoy and Dumbledore pulling his strings, will be even less likely to help.
No, right now the best I can do is to see how well I can survive with my current abilities, trying to plan more into the future after I get a bit stronger.
So, taking that into account, one of the first things I do is bring out my claws again, trying to figure out their metallic sheen. Turning around I test them against the tree, seeing them rip through the wood like a very sharp axe, but nothing like adamantium claws would. So, as a best guess, my claws might be like that organic metal that Colossus is made from, and maybe my other bones as well.
From what I remember about the metal, it can take a lot of damage, up to something like a large caliber bullet, falling from pretty high up, and some magical attacks. Though a lot of that is probably from the fact that all of Colossus is made from said metal, rather than just his bones.
So, if all of my bones are made from organic metal, they should be pretty durable at least, and my claws can be a defense for a lot of magic, though I wouldn't try it with spells like the Unforgivable Curses, or a lot of dark magic. Useful but nothing that will make me invulnerable, but I have to test some things out first now that I've calmed down.
Standing up I move to a tree where a branch is close enough for me to jump to, about as thick as my clenched fist, so it should be able to hold my weight. As I jump up, I reach about eye level to the branch, rather than barely reaching it, surprising me at how easy it was to jump that high, but I ignore that for now as I hold on, seeing how it reacts to me.
Hearing the branch creak at my weight yet not outright break, I figure that I was right that my bones are composed of organic metal as well since the branch should be able to handle me easily normally.
Letting go I land easily, feeling my legs widen naturally to spread out and take my weight. Since I don't feel like I weigh a massive amount like Wolverine does, I think my bones aren't just solid metal, but has the spongy bone made up of metal too, so they're not just solid weight. So, I might be heavier than a normal girl in my size, but it feels more natural and shouldn't weigh me down too much.
Thinking back to what I know of Wolverine and Laura Kinney, which isn't a lot, I know that their senses are much stronger than normal as well and have an animal like instinct.
Both should serve me well when trying to survive out here, but I have to see if I have the same and how well those senses work for me. The animal instinct, well, I don't know how to test that, so I'll see if I notice something like that later, other than just the anger at my family being attacked. There is something new within me, no doubt, but how close that thing is to more animal like instinct I'm not sure.
Figuring that I'll test the most obvious first, I try and see if my sight is better than normal, when I suddenly feel kinda stupid when I notice that I could see really well, even though it was dark.
Though shades of orange and gold are starting to light up the horizon now, blanketing the lush and green forest, the clean smell of dew filling my nose. But nonetheless, I have more to try out regarding my sight than just great night-vision.
Focusing, I see a bird in the distance, maybe a hundred yards away, seeing a beautiful array of reds, whites, and blacks covering it. Hitching my breath at the fact that even so far away, I can clearly see it as if were right next to me, I put a mental check-in the enhanced eyesight department.
Closing my eyes, I focus at where I saw the bird, turning my ears in the bird's direction. Hearing the flutter of feathers, the slight taping as it moves along the branch, and its chirping, I know that my hearing is enhanced as well. Opening my eyes again, I work at being able to get used to seeing such a distance while hearing it move around, slightly startling me when it suddenly flutters its wings, flying off into the distance.
Not really sure about testing touch and taste, though I would guess that there enhanced as well in some way, I move on to the next easiest thing to test, smell. Not really paying it much attention before, I try and really focus on what I'm smelling now, and the world seems to take on a new dimension.
A woodsy fragrance fills my nose, but with so many variations intermixed with the larger whole. The damp smell of the morning dew mixing with the wood, the musty, earthy smell of the rotten log a few meters away, and the various animal smells intermixed throughout, though I can't really identify them yet.
'Awesome' I think to myself, loving these new abilities, even as my recent sorrow and pain fade further into the background.
'But what about my magic' I have to wonder, knowing I did some impressive controlled feats for my age when I was a baby. Thinking about that, I reflect on my memories then, trying to remember that feeling, and doing my best to see if I could replicate anything like that now.
Feeling a soft but strong warmth running through me, like a soft liquid light that's a part of my very being, offering a sense of comfort and warmth. That, that right there is my magic, something I knew was as a part of me as my claws and as integral to me as my very soul.
And speaking of a soul, I can feel a glowing warmth on my forehead, the scar no longer there, but I can feel her, my mother's soul, a small amount of my magic holding her close. I can feel some other kind of tether as well, maybe from whatever spell or ritual Voldemort did to prepare another horcrux for himself, but right now, it's helping strengthen the connection between me and mom all on its own.
Once again feeling my magic I try to shape it to my will, pushing against that feeling to do what I want, in this case levitating a stick in front of me, but fail miserably. Sitting back on my haunches, I look at the stick again, trying to reach out to my magic, this time just feeling it, seeing the stick float in my mind, and do my best to desire the outcome.
This time I see it slowly start to rise, feeling my magic start to hum and move faster inside of me, respond to what I want and will, rather than force. But the stick drops suddenly, and I feel the drain at what I just did, my limbs feeling heavy and weakness pervading my muscles, causing me to collapse to my back.
After a minute though I'm happy to note I can feel that my magic has recovered, helped along by my regeneration. I'm hardly a powerhouse yet, but my stamina, both magical and personal should be incredible with my regeneration, and power can come later.
What I should be able to do now should help me survive, even if it won't be very helpful fighting another witch or wizard. Since I'm only five, albeit a lot smarter from what I can remember from my past life, I think I'm in a great place with my magic and what I can do.
A regular eleven-year-old might have more power than me right now but I can feel and control what magic I have much better. But even so, I think I probably have a lot more power than a regular and even talented five-year old, but honestly, all this is all guesswork for now.
ΩΩΩ
Feeling my stomach grumble after a bit of walking around in the forest, I decided to put my skills to some use and see if I can grab some food and water. Taking a deep inhale through my nose I follow the richest damp smell first, finding a small stream about a twenty-minute walk, hearing it clearly as I started to get closer to it.
I make sure to remember it for later as I make my way through the forest again after quenching my thirst, this time following a scent of an animal mixed with a strong smell of plants. I figured that following such a scent should give me the highest chance to find a prey animal, and not another predator. By the time deep shadows filled the forest and burnt orange colored the world around me, I still hadn't found anything, when suddenly I came across a rabbit in the distance.
My body seemed to still all on its own, my eyes and ears sharpening toward the rabbit, and my heart sped up. With its scent filling my nose, I moved slowly, inch by inch, yard by yard until I could hear the rabbit's breath, before launching my body forward, all my muscles working in synchrony to get the prey in front of me. The rabbit, startled for a brief second froze, before trying to dart forward toward escape, but it was too late, two of my claws sinking into it, blood dripping from them as they pieced through its other side.
The coppery smell of its blood filled my head, almost tasting it on my tongue as my heart pounded from the short hunt, and a smile spread across my face.
My breath was ragged for a moment before leveling, my heart still pounding from the short but exciting hunt. Feeling as I do now and looking back to how I reacted a moment ago, I guess I do in fact have predatory instincts working for me, feeling fine even after killing for the first time. Mind you it was only a rabbit and I do need to eat, but still, my mind has firmly put it into the prey category rather than feeling bad about it.
Slightly disconcerting at how unbothered I really am, but not something I can worry about now, or even later, but something I will have to adapt to and accept. Though I only hope skinning the rabbit will be as easy as YouTube showed in my last life, and I should be able to start a small fire after digging a hole for it. Time for dinner.
Master Izo POV
Looking down at the small girl I must admit to feeling impressed by her and how she has handled everything so far. After five hundred years in this world, I have seen a lot of things, so much more than most with my sightless eyes, my radar-like senses picking up so much. Having heard her wounds closing as I arrived too late after becoming aware of the commotion in the Mt. Fuji Forest that I was taking refuge in. Seeing that she was recovering from her wounds at an astonishing rate, especially for someone with no control over their chi, I quickly hunted down the perpetrator, her uncle apparently.
Questioning him after using some creative measures to loosen his tongue, I was surprised at her being a young witch. Though I have been away from the European branch of that community for more than a century. But hearing how quickly she healed from the wound her uncle delivered to her, she's probably a mutant as well, something already incredibly rare, a magical one even more so.
The last time I saw a magical mutant was a few hundred years ago, a man called Almeric Sawbridge, who had super strength as well as magic.
After getting all the information I needed from the man such as who they were, what else he has done, and why, I quickly end him, disposing of his body, leaving the car for later, before making my way back to the girl. 'Hearing that Dumbledore left her with these people was interesting, I don't know much about the man, but even I know that he wields a lot of authority and power in wizarding circles, so seeing his direct interference with the girl is something to looking into later, I think to myself as I reach the girl.
Seeing that she was already standing, drying her eyes after some understandable emotional turmoil, my opinion of her raised. I have been a warrior for a long time, and I could respect the kind of determination the girl showed.
She then took her time to go over her situation and then study her seemingly new abilities, the impressive set that they are. Seeing her examine her claws, I did the same, smelling the metal from here and hearing it through the rest of her body as she moved. Though it wasn't dense enough by the sound of it to be a coating or solid metal, so regular bones but formed of metal somehow, claws included. Interesting, and judging by how she walked around with ease, good night vision with decent agility, going through the various forest obstacles, though she could learn a thing or two about staying quiet.
Watching her for a bit more, I can tell her senses are very sharp, seeing how focused she is by the Spotted Woodpecker a hundred yards behind me. With a very sharp sense of smell as well, judging by how she used that nose of hers to hunt down the stream, she might even be able to develop her own radar sense with senses like those.
But when she hunted that wild rabbit is when I was truly impressed, hearing her speed, precision, and killer instinct at work. Hearing how fast she regained her breath and calmed her heart also shows some amazing stamina, especially for one her age. Watching her dig two holes and start a small fire with her magic after figuring out how to skin the rabbit was both amusing and impressive as well, even if that rabbit ended up a bit burnt. Yes, this girl will do rather well with some training, and after the failure with Stick, I'll do better this time.
Plus, it's been a long time since I trained anyone, and she has no one, so I might as well give her some guidance and shape her into a warrior and assassin to be feared. But first, let's see how she will do without any help, and see if I can find out anything else about her in the meantime.
Yes, the next few years should be interesting training this Elizabeth Violet Potter.
ΩΩΩ
Elizabeth POV: One Year Later
Taking a deep breath, I pull myself from the river, the air softy prickling at my wet skin as I carry a fish hooked onto one of my fingers, a trout of some kind. Moving closer to the glowing warmth of the fire I bring out one of my claws to cut open the fish, removing its guts before using a stick to cook it over the low fire. It took me a few tries to figure out how not to burn what I eat, finally finding out I just needed to be more patient.
Though after a year out here, I've got open fire cooking down to a science by now, even finding a few herbs around the forest to season my food.
Leaving the fish to cook I move over to a pile of sticks I collected earlier, taking the time to sharpen both ends of the larger and small sticks to place them around my little wooden hut. The bigger ones I place at an angle to stop any of the bigger animals, and the smaller one I place straight up and down, as stepping straps for some of the smaller animals.
Though if a bear breaks through the bigger spears, it could still step on the smaller ones, keeping my hut safe. And I replace the spears about every month or so, keeping up a stock of easy firewood as well.
Of course, it's not like my hut is a masterpiece either, more just some big enough sticks I found, put knocks in with my claws, and fit together. I filled the gaps with dried mud that I make sure to keep up on after it rains and leaves to help cover the stick roof.
Using some smoke from the fire a few times a week helps keep the bugs out because even if I heal fast, it doesn't mean they're not annoying. A stick door also helps my piece of mine, again put together with the help of my claws cutting holes and putting smaller and larger sticks together.
A bed that was slightly raised using dried mud was in the corner, with some of the softer dirt from near the river on top, because leaves really aren't that comfortable. A pillow using Dudley's old pants filled with some more soft dirt also worked well enough to be comfortable after getting used to it for a bit. I used his old shirt that was given to me to make a sort of loincloth and chest wrap I can wash in the river, because why not, it works, and I can keep it clean.
I remember a show in my past life talking about surviving in the forest and how it's your mind that can be your biggest enemy, despair creeping in like a malignant tumor. He said you should have small goals and accomplishments throughout the day to help keep you going, and that's exactly what I'm doing.
Keeping up with small chores and tasks, to keep my mind busy and the loneliness at bay as it tries to eat away at my mind, suffocating me in time. But I've also replanted some of the prettier flowers I have come across as well, placing them around my hut to liven things up. I find it relaxing to hum my mother's lullaby as I work too, keeping my mind and body busy.
Finishing up with the spears I put them to the side for now, ready to head deep into the forest again, both to hunt and practice. Eating the fish I left to cook, its fatty meat like butter across my tongue, I toss the bones in the river, topping off my energy for the rest of the day.
Running through the forest after a few minutes of stretching, I jump over various roots and logs, managing to keep both my speed and footing after so much practice, enjoying the feel of the earth under my feet as I run. Jumping about three feet into the air I grab onto a branch, swinging up to stand atop it, relishing the extra strength of my body despite my small size.
Having a steady diet of meat, fish, and various roots and mushrooms has helped my body a lot, getting me up to a nice three-foot five in height, even if a bit below average. But with all the running and jumping through the forest I've been doing, my muscles have become much stronger very fast, being able to tear them and heal them over and over again.
With all the meat as well, I have to say, I'm probably one of the better-toned six year olds out there. Keeping up with the stretching and workout I make sure to stay strong and limber, helping me to survive much easier and run away when I have to.
Coming across a few bears a time or two made sure I don't get complacent because even if I heal and could kill them, I don't really want to get mauled the entire time I'm fighting.
Jumping from branch to branch I do my best to remain as quiet as I can, sometimes using my claws to climb higher in the trees. After travailing for about half an hour I come across some tracks on the ground, and I climb down lower on the tree to catch the scent of boar, happy with my findings.
Now it just comes down to settling in and a lot of patience as I wait for another boar to make its way through the well-used path. Waiting for the hunt to begin once more, for the coppery smell of blood to fill the air, and for the beating drum of my prey's heart to silence.
ΩΩΩ
Silently waiting for around three hours I finally hear the rustling footsteps of an animal, bringing me to attention and sharpening my senses. Just about thirty yards from me I train my eyes and ears toward the boar coming my way, watching as it sniffs for various roots and plants.
I wait on my branch, slowing my breathing to keep silent, eyes trained, watching, and waiting for it to come underneath my branch, deathly still in anticipation of the kill and my claws already unsheathed. Closer. Closer. Closer. NOW!
I lean forward and free fall from my branch just as the boar walks below me, feeling the wind blow through my hair from the short fall, its scent pervading my senses even more. Landing a second later, right on top of the boar's back, the claws of my right hand already deep into its neck, severing its spine and brainstem, it dies without ever knowing I was here. Taking a moment to show my respect for my kill and felt glad I was able to make it quick, no need for the animal to suffer.
Quickly turning it to its back I carefully cut it open to remove its organs, tossing them to the side for scavengers, but keeping the intestines, heart, and liver for tonight, my mouth watering as the bloody scent fills the air. After dressing it down, something that took many months to get right, I stuff in the organs I want to keep and shut the boar closed using a sharpened stick.
Heading back to my hut I take the boar and hang it upside down over the river using some sturdy vines I found in the forest, letting it drain as I keep the organs to the side. I make sure to keep some of the blood in a bowl I carved out so I can use it later.
Then I make sure to clean out all three organs in the river before wrapping the intestines over a stick to roast over the fire, their sizzling sound ringing out and cooking fat filling the air, causing my mouth to water. In another large bowl, I cut the heart and liver into pieces, before adding the blood, some river water, and a few roots and mushrooms I scavenged. Using my magic I relight some old coals in the fire, layering a few rocks on top, putting the bowl on top to slowly cook my dinner.
A half hour later I finish up my rich soup and crispy intestines before cleaning everything in the river and sipping on some root tea, looking up to the moon above me. Surrounded by the various flowers I've replanted I think of both my mom and dad, wondering what they would think of me now, and what I've done.
Would they see me as a monster, killing and eating wild animals in the forest, see me as a freak because of my claws and healing, or would they love me all the same?
Feeling my mother's soul with my magic, I know that it's probably just the Dursleys 'tender care' affecting me because even now their words and actions fill my mind. Mom and dad loved me; I remember that clearly even now with crystal clarity, and they died for me.
But even so, sometimes doubts fill my mind like an invisible poison no matter what I do, when the loneliness starts creeping in around me and even the flowers make me think of mom, the prancing deer, my father.
Looking to the silver lit sky, I do something I haven't done in a long time, I sing, remembering a song from my past life that feels fitting, letting me release some of the pain inside me, and my young and soprano like voice rings through the night:
One lost soul all on my own
I am falling, I am all alone
I am here waiting
I stand and open wide my arms wide, breathing deep, letting out the emotions boiling inside of me…
My lungs fill up with fear, the ground beneath me breaking
The rain within the clouds blackening all my dreams
Closing my eyes, I think of all my loss, all my uncertainty, and all I've done to survive till now…
To survive within this world one cannot hesitate
Yet this place still is my home, these flowers decorate
Though I want to believe, someone's waiting for me
My dad is gone, my mom is gone, my godfather imprisoned, and the Dursleys are no option, I'm alone…
I'm powerless
my happiness is fading on
I'm crying out, without a doubt, now I am gone
Do I hear calling out?
Someone's coming to save me
I sing out into the night, to the moon and over the river, singing out my loneliness…
If I believe one day I'll see more than death
Before today, wreckage to stay, can't hold my breath
One lost soul all on my own
I am falling, I am all alone
I am here waiting
I fall to my knees singing it all out, before rising up again, defiant against the pain inside of me that wants to swallow me whole…
Trapped within my mind never understanding
Half of me is saved the other half is just, pain
I must continue to fight for all that I believe
Though I can feel my heart break I have a song to sing
My endless search carries on
To find a place I belong
My solitude, freedom from you, it's all a lie
Nevertheless, I must confess, for this I strive
I sing out again, the memories of the Dursleys infecting my mind as I try to push those memories away, thoughts of my mom pervading me, her soul burning bright inside of me…
Damn this heart
Still it burns with a desire for you
Is there a place without a trace where you are not
So this can end
Begin again
Right from the start
One lost soul all on my own
I am falling, I am all alone
I am here waiting
My voice rings out into the night, the desire for the family and love I lost burning inside of me, tied together with the fear of their rejection for what I am now. The freak, the monster, the names I've been called infecting my mind and heart, clouding it all inside of me…
Leave me, I am not worth saving
You'll find where you belong
I am a starlight, burning in the night
Fading, dying
Here but lost in this vast sky
I'm powerless
My happiness is fading on
I'm crying out, without a doubt, now I am gone
Do I hear calling out?
Someone's coming to save me
If I believe one day I'll see more than death
Before today, wreckage to stay, can't hold my breath
One lost soul all on my own
I am falling, I am all alone
I am here waiting (N2)(N3)
Letting out a ragged breath I admit that letting that out was therapeutic, music always being both a refuge for me and a release. Finally, being able to voice out some of the pain and loneliness that's been buried inside of me, and give it shape, give it a voice. Working it all out, knowing I must put the Dursleys behind me, that my dad and mom would love me no matter what, that they would accept me, dying to protect me.
"Now that was beautiful, I must say" A male voice speaks behind me.
Immediately jumping up and slashing with my clawed fists at the stranger who suddenly appeared behind me, which he easily evades, I hiss out "Who the hell are you?" Making sure to take a low and crouched stance, ready and waiting to lash out again.
He nodes as he seems to look me over, though I can't easily tell due to the dark glasses he's wearing. "Good reaction time, not a bad attack, and smart to stay on guard, but what if I was just some innocent old man who wanted to talk?" he asks, seeming amused at the same time.
"No normal old man would be able to sneak up on me" I say, relaxing slightly but keeping my claws out and ready.
"Good observational skills, especially for one so young, and you're right, I'm certainly not your usual old man hahaha" he says with an easy laugh causing me to frown at him. He then takes off his glasses, showing me his white and blind eyes, maybe hoping to put me at ease, but I just make sure to back up even more.
"Oh, and what has you so on guard from a blind old man girl?" he asks, seemingly genuinely curious, since I doubt many would share my reaction.
"You're a blind old man who managed to walk silently through the forest and sneak up on me. You're either a demon who wants my soul, a martial arts master, or a weird serial killer, still not sure which though" I say, sarcasm coloring my voice.
He pauses at that, blinking his blind eyes in some genuine shock I think, "I admit, I didn't expect that, but since you're wondering it's option two. I've been watching you for a while now, seeing you survive in this forest I've taken refuge in, and I have to say you've impressed me girl" he says with a smile.
I pause at that, shocked he was able to get passed my senses, but then again, martial arts master, so who knows what he can do? "What do you want?" I ask because he obviously wants something if he's been watching me.
"Well girl, as I said, you've impressed me, with your speed, reflexes, senses, and more so with your killer instinct and determination. It's been a long time since someone's impressed me girl, more so, someone as young as you. What do you think of becoming my apprentice?" He asks, keeping his smile the whole time.
"Why?" I ask, still suspicious.
He pauses again before speaking, "Mm, well girl, I've been around for a long time, seen and done a lot, so you could call this a passing fancy I suppose, and my curiosity as to what you could become under my training." He pauses again, taking some time to think, "There's also the fact that your alone girl and so am I, training you can give me something to do and help you along your own future" he says.
"My own future?" I ask, starting to relax again, putting my claws away.
He chuckles before responding "Like I said girl, I've been around for a long time, so I made sure to see who came into my forest, your quiet famous miss little girl who lived" he says, chuckling again.
"I don't know what you mean" I try and lie, causing him to snort.
"You'll have to do a lot better than that, girl if you want to lie to me. I can hear your heart beat faster, the change in your scent and the slight hitch in your breath" he says to me, showing a slight smirk.
"I'm, aware of some of what the magical world says about me, but not everything" I say, being truthful because even if I'm called the girl who lived, I don't know what could be the same or different from the books.
"Mmm" he hums out noncommittally "Regardless, you have enemies that my training can help with, and I have time to kill and might need an alley in the future, who knows, what do you think, will you take me as your Sensei?" he asks, giving me time to think over his offer.
Taking a moment to myself I think over the idea of him being my teacher, or Sensei as he said. Honestly, it's not like I have a lot of better options for training, and like he pointed out, I do have enemies I have to deal with. Knowing how to fight will help with that a lot, and since he seems to have some skills, appearing behind me without a sound and having the same kind of sight as Daredevil, with him being blind and still seeing me, he seems like a better option than most.
I have a basic handle on my magic but more from trial and error, nothing compared to Dumbledore and Voldemort, or even the average wizard. Going to Hogwarts later will help a lot, and anything else I might figure out before going, but physical skills that he could teach me could help bridge the gap between me and more experienced witches and wizards.
So, there's really only two options, stay here in my hut and learn nothing, being underprepared for the what's come, future knowledge or not, or accept his offer of him teaching me.
"I accept," I say to him, bowing slightly in acknowledgment.
He smiles, "Good, then be prepared for training hell, because I plan to forge you into one of the world's deadliest warriors" he says before taking out a gourd and taking a swig, the alcohol smell wafting over to me.
Hearing what he said, only one word really comes to mind: shit!
Note 1: The Lullaby that is being sung here is from Pan's Labyrinth, called a Long, Long Time Ago.
Note 2: The song is Ancient Magus' Bride OP「HERE」 (FULL ENGLISH Ver.) - Caleb Hyles
Note 3: For her voice, imagine a young Eurielle
AN: Hello again! This is just to expand on the chapter note above, I have also gone through these 3 chapters to do some editing and add a little bit of information here and there. By no means would I consider it professional work at all, but hopefully some improvements can be seen. Being that I didn't have a real plan at the start, the chapters were short mostly, but now I have an outline for the first arc that I see as the School Years Arc, I can tighten things up a bit better now.
Still need to grow as an author, but some early remastering should be okay with you readers, I hope. After this Arc reaches its conclusion, which is the end of my current outline, I will put this book under the complete tag and move into book two! That arc should have much more action overall, being that the current arc is more so building Elizabeth's foundation so that she can grow even further in the next arc.
I hope that opening this as a new story isn't too bothersome for readers, as I'm not sure if deleting previous chapters would also delete people's comments. Though what should be of help is that I will be uploading all the edited and combined chapters at once, as well as a new chapter to go along with them. I also know how to better use the fanfiction system, so that should be nice as well lol, and Grammarly is also helping at times.
Apologies for the inconvenience.