The Anvil - Part 1:

While Lady Magic had been instructed to provide young Harry with the necessary tools for this particular timeline, she was not privy to what events might befall the young boy. After all, the universe seemed to have an intelligence of its own, and it would give and take as necessary to maintain balance. Lady Magic wondered if providing these 'gifts' to her champion would incur the wrath of the cosmos. The universe would ask for something in return as recompense – it marched to its own rhythm and the why of this behaviour was still discussed as a philosophical quandary of the caretakers themselves.

Soon enough after Lady Magic had summoned the lightning phoenix and approved Ms Singh's appointment to St. Grogory's Primary School for the upcoming Monday, she was given a definite answer to her curiosity.

Saturday night, with both Petunia and her son Dudley away on vacation at Marge's house, Vernon found himself quite angry. His manager had called him earlier, and his superior made it his business to tear Vernon a new asshole over the phone call. Vernon's abrasive personality had cost the company an industrial customer who easily bought many thousands of pounds worth of specialised drill bits from Grunnings regularly. As punishment, the manager proceeded to hand over Vernon's portfolio to another worker and he was moved to inventory, to manage the boxing of drill bit orders. This was accompanied by a sixty per cent pay cut, and this was the most infuriating treatment he had ever received.

Truthfully, Vernon had never acquired the customer personally. He had bullied another employee incessantly and when the victim had quit Grunnings, Vernon had grabbed the newly acquired customers. He then had proceeded to intimidate people in his department to handle the orders. Essentially, he earned commission on large industrial customers and hardly did any work. For a while, it worked out perfectly and he soon got in the habit of spending lavishly and irresponsibly.

Three days ago, the priority customer had requested a special cryogenically treated drill bit for some cutting edge aerospace-grade work. Vernon who had no idea that his company supplied such an unusual product, insulted the man and had called him a "tossing cunt". By Friday evening, the manager had received a strongly worded letter from the client, as the drill bit had already been late and the company had lost significant funds by delaying the work. Management was now in bloodhound mode as they tore apart everything. After a quick investigation, Vernon was the man who had no working relationships with a whole plethora of companies, and yet was receiving the commission which rightfully belonged to other employees.

Saturday morning the phone call had arrived and karma had now come to bite Vernon in the ass. Surely, he could not think that he would always triumph? But Vernon was a bully and not a critical thinker. Now his colleagues were free to speak about the abuse they had endured, and the termination of his employment after the company completed its internal investigation was quite possible.

It had to be the freak's fault.

"His unnaturalness had caused all this!" Vernon reasoned as could not confront his stupidity. The golf on Sunday would have to stop. What if he could not maintain the loan payment on his new shiny SUV? He would have to eat less steak and stop consuming his scotch? Vernon had gotten accustomed to these comforts and decided Harry was a good punching bag as any to exercise his rage.

Of course, this unreasonable and odd sequence of thoughts was not without an explanation - he was naturally superstitious, and he had never bothered to take his bipolar and antipsychotic medication for many years after experiencing his success at Grunnings. The sudden revelations had brought out an abusive monster that Petunia had believed was long gone, as she often forgot her abuse as a very young woman, in return for the gifts that Vernon had lavished upon her over the last decade. Yes, for Petunia this Vernon was non-existent but for little Harry Hadrian Potter, he was very real.

Harry had been sequestered in his cupboard after performing the necessary obligations around the Dursley home. His hair stood on end as he sensed something malicious coming his way. He began to tremble in abject fear as Vernon appeared with a golf club in his hand after the ominous creaking of the cupboard door, as it opened slowly and threateningly.

Before Harry could even mutter a single word, Vernon had already hit Harry Potter with the golf club in his ribcage.

Most of Harry's ribs in his left rib cage broke immediately, and the pain was so immense that his little body went into shock. There were no screams and no protests - Harry Potter's heart had immediately stopped beating. Unbeknownst to everyone at large, the soul splinter of Lord Voldemort that resided in Harry's scar had sensed that the body was vulnerable. The soul splinter quickly evaluated the situation and decided to constitute himself into full sentience, if he was to return. Failure to do something would result in both the death of the host and itself and out of self-interest, the soul splinter began to attempt a bodily possession. However, the soul splinter of Lord Voldemort found all possession attempts futile as there was no mind to possess. While soul splinters or properly named 'Horcruxes' could live in inanimate objects for indefinite periods, residing in a decaying body meant eventual death for a Horcrux, as the body was reclaimed by the environment.

Lord Voldemort, unknown to the young man, was the magical 'Dark Lord' that had killed his parents when Harry was barely one year old. He had also proceeded to conjure some type of foul magic where his soul lived on, outside his physical body. In the attempt on Harry's life as a baby, he had unintentionally attached himself to Harry Potter's unremarkable zig-zag shaped scar, when his curse had backfired. The boy's daily struggle was often a result of trying to beat the parasitic magic off while doing his gruelling chores. Now Harry Hadrian Potter would struggle against the same evil that had already maimed his life.

He was all alone, and he was going to fight one of the most feared Dark Lords, in recent Wizarding history.

Lady Magic could only watch on as tears filled her eyes. How could the fates be so cruel? How could merely Harry's existence demand such hatred from people? She checked in on the phoenix and realised that the scheduled time of arrival was approximately four hours. However, four minutes was complete brain death for any human, magical or muggle. No, the bird would have to arrive immediately. The fates would decide if Harry would survive. She reached out to young phoenix and sent the following message:

"Your partner-of-heart is on the edge of death. You will have to lightning-apparate to his location directly or he dies. You will be required to rescue him by incapacitating his attacker with your lightning and healing him with your tears.

The Fates depend on your ability to act quickly. Trust your ancestors to guide you through the Bifröst"

The young nameless phoenix began to feel scared. The required apparition distance was almost two hundred times her capable distance. Then, to expend lightning to attack the aggressor? And produce tears on demand? Would she even be capable? Many phoenixes had been tested on their way to bond with their partner-of-heart. But this? This was unreasonable and unfair to ask of such a youngling like her. It was considered a great shame if a phoenix could not sacrifice for its wizard. Only the worthiest were selected to be Lady Magic's heralds. Others who did not make the requirement remained wild. With these thoughts on the phoenix's mind, she considered her options.

If the young boy required her death to become whole again, so be it. And should she fail, let the three Norns pass judgement on her. Until then, she would ask Hraesvelg and Thor to light her way.

The young female phoenix summoned her energy and willed herself towards the location, quite aware that as a youngling she would reconstitute at a delayed time. After all, she was attempting to lightning-apparate to a location almost one thousand kilometres away from her location. It was at this moment that Lady Magic clapped and choked up laughter amongst the tears running down her face. Phoenixes could generally teleport only to places that they had already visited, but the young bird had trusted magic itself to take care of everything. Little did the bird know, she was unconsciously speeding along a magical leyline and the inclement weather would allow her to ride the lightning until she arrived at her required location. This little bird was so brave, as she rushed along with absolutely no consideration for her own life, as long as she could save the boy.

This was truly a hard-ass bird for a hard-ass wizard, in the making.

Lady Magic began to feel the winds of change whispering in her ear. Harry Potter would begin his journey towards absolute supremacy here. In all his pain, he would turn it into greatness, if he survived the next five minutes.

The Anvil would forge the metal into a sharp sword.

Meanwhile, the fragment of Lord Voldemort was not having a good time. His attachment had become weak and he could barely hold on to the body. Lord Voldemort was dimly aware that the body was being dragged to another location in the house so that the boy would receive another round of punishment. With one final attempt, he tried to force his way into the body, this time by stimulating the nervous system.

Success.

The brain and the heart were active. The pulse was erratic and faint, but present. Lord Voldemort burrowed into Harry Potter's mind and found a small child crying, totally withdrawn in his mental mindscape. It was then that Lord Voldemort launched a full-fledged attack on the child's mind, to force a possession.

Harry then found himself face to face with a snake-like monster man, and he shrieked in fear. If Harry's scream could have been vocalised, it would have forcefully awoken the entire neighbourhood after tearing his vocal cords torn in half. As Lord Voldemort tried to consume Harry's identity, the first glimpse Harry received was a memory of a gentle voice speaking to him as heard by the assailant, as he approached a door.

"Mamma loves you, dadda loves you. Harry be safe, be strong"

The door was then blasted open, and Harry saw a beautiful red-haired woman holding his hand as a baby, while he stood upright in his crib. This was a memory from the thing. Harry began to realise that this thing, which was a part of him, had murdered his mother. He listened to the conversation that occurred between his mother, and the high pitched but cold-blooded voice:

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside you silly girl… stand aside now."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead "
"Not Harry! Please… have mercy…have mercy… "

Harry saw a crooked, snakelike shaped stick slowly raise to chest height, as it targeted his mother.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the figure shouted as his mother went deathly still after a green beam of energy collided with her. Now the stick was pointed at him, and the spell was uttered again. However, the same green energy had bounced back, and now the assailant was not there anymore as his sight became inky black, and yet he was somehow alive?

It was at this moment that Harry realised that the stories that had been told to him by the Dursleys were a lie. The 'thing' before him was responsible for the murder of his mother. His mother, who had loved him so much. Who had begged for his life, offering her own in exchange. Harry could see the utter anguish on the woman's face. She had loved him. There was no car crash. Nor was his mother a prostitute. She was beautiful and had intelligent eyes.

Green eyes like his.

He was loved. Loved until this 'thing' had taken everything away. He would rather take this thing to hell and back than submit.

He would not submit. He preferred to die.

His mind was his own, and his alone to own. Suddenly, an ancient ritual that Lilly Potter had performed began to kick into action and the Potter magic began to call out to anything that would save the last scion of Potter house. Suddenly, a warm familiar buzz began to flow in the boy, as his mind and his body was suddenly augmented with something powerful and ancient. Something with the ferocity of a dragon had now taken over. Harry was still himself, but he was getting help. He was dimly aware of this, as put his entire essence into killing the snake-man.

And so, a battle of wills began. Lord Voldemort began to summon dark curses in Harry's mindscape. Harry ran with the speed of a cheetah, against the black featureless mindscape as Lord Voldemort continued to fling curse after curse. Eventually, Harry found a bolt of energy approaching him and realised that he would not be able to dodge the energy this time. As the other figure laughed in a cold and amused voice, the young boy instinctively yelled "SHIELD!", as he hoped that something would intercept the spell.

To Voldemort's surprise, a glowing blue faint shield appeared covering Harry's entire body.

But this shield was strange. It did not look like a standard Protego. What was this sorcery? Suddenly multiple Avada Kedavras and other known combat spells bounced off harmlessly, and the boy seemed invulnerable. Harry to his surprise, had conjured a Dune styled personal shield. Harry did not know anything about magic, so he had inadvertently utilised the ideas that were familiar to him. Harry had always thought that the personal shields in Dune were 'extremely cool' and he had loved the entire book series – he had secretly desired to be as powerful as Paul Atreides.

He identified with the story in a manner that was consistent with his mistreatment – he had always hoped that one day, he would force Petunia and Vernon to stop hurting his feelings.

This was one of the many forms of escapism that Harry indulged himself in regularly, and it was the primary reason why his reading was advanced for his age. Now, in his darkest hour Science Fiction had arrived as a viable replacement for magical ideas. Harry Potter had materialised his passions, to come to his aid.

Realising that he had conjured something from science fiction to aid him, he began to think about the most overboard mental constructions that he could come up with, and an idea, albeit a ridiculous one manifested in his mindscape. Harry had been enjoying Warhammer 40K titles from the school library as they had been a favourite with some of the Year Six students – the books had been donated as a joke, when the teacher had requested that students should contribute some type of worthwhile literature to the library. Harry had heard the student one day in the library as he explained his reasoning:

"Why did you donate Warhammer 40K books to the library?" a student asked.

"Hey, we have to spread the hobby around. Then we will have other people to play against. It is literally three of us in the school. Some people after reading the lore will buy the models." The other replied.

Harry usually sat around sometimes and watched silently as the other students played the tabletop game, with custom but badly painted models sometimes on a Friday. Harry had enjoyed these books very much because he would often read about the impossible armaments, and then would fantasize about putting the Dursleys within the scope of any of the overboard guns from within the lore.

Harry quickly summoned Ultramarine Adeptus Astartes Armour and a Volkite cannon and began lumbering towards Lord Voldemort. If Matt Ward considered the Ultramarines invincible, surely they would work against this chipmunk that he was fighting?

Lord Voldemort who had considered muggles to be ignorant and borderline animals could not even begin to comprehend what he was seeing. Even his unforgivables bounced off the thick ceramite armour like a mere annoyance. He had no frame of reference. What was the weapon that the filthy Mudblood was holding? What did it…

A thundering roar was heard and Lord Voldemort found himself missing his wand arm.

His shield could not block the spell that came from the weapon. To Lord Voldemort, the energy beam almost seemed like FiendFyre but much more destructive. No vocalisations, no spells uttered, what kind of magic was this? How could this construct be so powerful? Was the boy a master Occlumens? Was this the hidden power of the boy?

As the walking behemoth lumbered, there was clearly iconography on the armour that seemed to resemble many of the themes Lord Voldemort would associate with Christianity – A filthy muggle religion that was responsible for the burning of Wizards and Witches in Pagan England, in the 8th century onwards. According to the Purebloods, when Christianity had arrived with the Roman traders in England, soon after the Anglo-Saxon Paganism had been burned systematically to the ground. They had not wilfully converted – no this was a piece of doctored history.

Voldemort began to feel genuine fear, as his spells continued to bounce off the armour. He began to wonder if he could jump to another body, but his essence seemed tied to the magical core of the boy. Would he survive? Voldemort's suspicions were confirmed as Harry muttered with a menacing robotic voice through the helmet….

"Kill the heretic! Burn in Holy Fire!"

As Voldemort perished behind the mentally constructed Warhammer 40K styled Heavy Flamer, suddenly the vista around him dissolved and Harry for a moment could see partial glimpses into the assailant's memories, as the unearthly screeching faded away.

The first memory was of a man who could not be anything else but his father. He was still on the ground and dead - but on his face was an expression of utter defiance. Even death, he was full of bravery and rebellion. His father had stood up to 'the thing' without an inch of hesitation. Straight back and proud he was even in death, and Harry got a glimpse of the man's hair. It was wild and stubborn and full of its own character. Harry now understood why combs had never been his best friend. This observation pleased the boy greatly.

Other memories flashed in a series of fuzzy recollections. As they faded away, Harry managed to manage to ascertain the following:

It became clear there was another world that existed. This world seemed to have a school, a bank and some other small businesses that were hidden away in a place that looked like an alley. These people were in some way different and lived apart from the normal world. Both his parents seemed to come from this place. They all carried sticks – sticks just like the one, that killed his father and mother. There were also strange creatures and animals too. And this 'thing' was not dead. He had done something to stay alive and the intruder was just a piece of something. Finally, there was a prominent word that seemed to be a part of his identity that was deeply buried in his psyche.

Wool's…

That was all Harry could obtain before everything faded away in his mental mindscape. Something had awakened in his body, and it buzzed and hummed with life, although it felt shattered. Harry had accidentally forced a partial link to his magical core via a haphazard mental connection. His magical core was somewhat exhausted and broken, but a large amount of magic was now trickling into his body. The ancient magic that had temporarily augmented his mental facilities, receded into the Gringotts vault, as it began to buzz with familial recognition. The boy was strong, defiant and unconquerable. The foreign entity then faded into its hibernation.

Lady Magic was surprised at how the events had played out - the Phoenix tears were supposed to cure the parasitic sentience, but it looked like the boy had beaten it off all by himself. It was truly an achievement that such a young mind would construct a positron barrier under such demanding circumstances. While the boy had performed this act unconsciously, the magic that had reached out to him was not something that she had planned for - and yet it seemed that the boy had been tested and that the universe would gift him this asset for his troublesome experience. She was not worried anymore - no the boy would survive. While the Phoenix was late, she would help him survive what was coming next.