July 25th, 1993

Harry forced himself to breathe through the pain and dragged the suitcase upstairs to the guest room. It was a hard effort, moving the heavy luggage up the flight of stairs but he managed it. He knew the week of hell had only just begun, so he held his annoyance in and returned downstairs to find Dudley in possession of a twenty pound note, a reward for enduring Marge's hug no doubt.

Marge Dursley looked very much like Vernon, just female and with a debatably worse attitude. And worse still, she'd brought her favourite (thus Harry's least favourite) dog along with her. Ripper, the little mongrel that he was, was bloody vicious and a waste of life in Harry's opinion. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than snap the bloody mutt's neck and set him ablaze when he laid eyes on the little dog.

"You're still here are you?" Marge's booming voice filled his ears.

Harry didn't even bother to look at Marge. He didn't need to see her ugly mug. In fact, he didn't even bother to answer.

"Disrespectful little bastard as always Vernon." Marge remarked scathingly. "Had he been left on my doorstep, I'd would've dumped him at an orphanage."

'Annoyance.' Harry thought bitterly. 'If only… No! Focus on what's important. I have to hold out until Mr Weasley takes me away.'

Thinking of his friends, Harry allowed a knowing smirk onto his face. Hermione, Ron, the twins, Neville, and Ginny. The thought of them brought him a patience that he knew he would need in the coming week to ignore Marge's barbs in combination with those of his relatives. The smirk, however, served only to aggravate the foul people he was among, making their distaste of him worse, as he knew it would likely do.

"Don't you smirk at me while ignoring me, you little ingrate!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned his back on them and went back upstairs. Arriving at his room, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, muttering, "Alohomora."

Pushing open the door, he shut it and cast a quick, "Colloportus."

With a sigh, Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed the recent letters. He hadn't read Hermione's yet. Opening the envelope, he lay back on the bed and read the neat script.

Harry,

It's good to hear from you so soon, I fully expected to be wait a few days at least before receiving a letter, Ron hasn't written yet but that's to be expected, he really isn't one for writing as it is. In fact, it looks like you had a lot to say to a lot of people by the number of letters Hedwig was carrying. Don't worry, I would never look at any other letter than the one for me, that's just rude.

Have you picked your electives for next year yet? I'm struggling to make my choices, they all sound quite interesting, especially Arithmancy and Ancient Runes! Divination isn't something I've come across so I'm curious about what it entails, Muggle Studies would be interesting too. I'm a bit apprehensive about the wizarding perspective of Muggles due to the treatment we Muggleborns get, at least from purist Purebloods like Malfoy. Care Of Magical Creatures sounds really dangerous, but I'm sure it'll be perfectly safe. Hogwarts is run by Dumbledore after all.

By the way, I'm heading off to France with my parents soon. I wonder what Ron is up to, but I guess we'll have to wait and see.

With love,

Hermione

The letter brought a smile to his face. It was so Hermione to ask if he'd chosen his electives the day after he got them. He was still waiting on Percy's response and was thus holding off on any decisions just yet. However, he knew he wouldn't get any of the peace he needed in this house. He couldn't stay here. He had to get out.

Leaving out the front door would be a pain, Marge would notice. Harry looked around in thought, and the open window caught his eye. Peering outside, he noticed that Vernon had had the brickwork replaced where Ron, Fred and George had pulled the bars from the window with their father's flying car, which Harry felt rather guilty about leaving roaming the Forbidden Forest. The wall actually looked as if there had never been bars on the window. That was to be expected, given how the Dursleys were about their imagine.

Rolling his eyes, Harry hid his wand under a loose floorboard and cautiously climbed out the window. His muscles complained excessively, reminding him of the Basilisk venom's damage to his body, but he pushed through it and leapt.

Similar to accidental magic of his time before Hogwarts, the young wizard found himself floating safely and slowly to the ground. His feet alighted the pavement and he was away.

'Too easy.' Harry smiled internally.

It felt good to be out of the house, far from the freedom he enjoyed at Hogwarts, but better than his previous summer by a mile. Even just walking down the street was far superior to being barred and locked inside that one room.

Grinning, the young wizard slowly sped up into a full sprint, racing down Privet Drive under the weak British sunlight. This feeling, of blood rushing around his body and his pounding heart… it felt good like nothing ever before! It was the best thing in his life and he felt alive and free. Two feelings he now valued over any other he possessed.

"This taste of blood… this pain… This is my body!"

For once, Harry agreed with the memory of a dead man.

In fact, he was actually a little curious as to why this 'Madara Uchiha' would have such similar thoughts to him. As much as he found the memories of the long dead an inconvenience and troubling, they were strangely tempting in the knowledge they held. He'd already learned how the Sharingan awakened, not how he had had the ability to, but still. The question played on his mind right in that very moment.

'What more do these memories hold?' Harry asked himself as time slipped by. 'What knowledge do the lives of dead men have for me?'

"For now, just move forward. Even if it means you walk a path of carnage…"

Wincing, Harry clutched his head at the vision. 'Sasuke's brother again. And this pain… Why did the memory flash directly from him hurt?'

"Hey freak!"

Dudley's voice shook him from his contemplation, much to his annoyance.

Contemptuously, Harry looked over his shoulder. Behind him was Dudley, Piers, and all the rest of his cousin's pitiful little gang, all looking as if raring for a fight. They probably were, and he could imagine why too. What was a little Harry hunting after all? A good blast from the past.

"Dudley." Harry replied cordially, containing his annoyance. "Good afternoon to you."

Dudley didn't return the politeness. In fact, he seemed to take offense to it, but such was his nature. He seemed to take exception to anything that implied the world didn't revolve around him. Honestly, Harry didn't know what his issue was and frankly couldn't give a damn anymore. Death and resurrection seemed to be redefining his views and principles a lot but he was fine with that. It was time for change, extreme, radical change. He had accepted that now, everything had changed now, and he had to change to overcome and rise above it all.

"Bet you think you're so tough, attacking Dad like that. How about you prove it, freak?"

"Even if it means you walk a path of carnage…"

"Some things can only be understood through fists. This battle was meaningful." Sasuke's voice followed his brother's, mitigating the pain of the other Uchiha's memory.

"Fighting you would be meaningless. You have nothing to teach me." Harry stated calmly, now fully in control. "But you still want to prove that you're bigger, badder and stronger."

Dudley bristled at that comment. Good. Harry enjoyed getting under his skin.

"I am better, you'll see that if you give me the chance you stupid freak."

"Can't you take the chance? Or do you need it given to you?" Harry questioned, passively mocking Dudley. Pushing his buttons. Playing on his nerves. Provoking him.

It was enough.

Dudley came lumbering at him with an obvious swing. Almost rolling his eyes, the young wizard ducked the meaty fist coming at his face and turned back to face his cousin. For years now he'd been able to dodge Dudley but he'd never possessed the will he did now, to not get hit, to fight back and rise up. He didn't know where it had come from, but somehow his blood had come to a boil and he had a insanely strong desire to fight, to dominate this battle of wills, pathetic as it was.

Summoning his magic that he felt clearer than ever before, Harry channeled to his eyes and awakened the glowing red shift and the single tomoe pattern once more. The power he felt flowing from his Sharingan now was an intense, powerful rush!

Dudley turned and swung again, a phantom, and Harry leaned back, almost surprised to see his weak cousin actually swing a second or so later, totally and utterly dumbfounded by hitting only thin air with his fist. Fists that would never reach him again.

Pain!

His head was knocked forward by a briefly surprising blow to the back of the head. Harry's glasses fell to the park ground, but before they had even touched the dirt, he had backhanded Piers into Dennis, much to the shock of Malcolm and Gordon. He had overlooked Dudley's flock of sheep. He would not make that mistake a second time, never again would he allow himself to repeat the same error twice.

Harry smirked, enjoying the raging blood and the pounding heart he possessed. The loss of his glasses didn't even bother him in the least. Regardless, the fact remained… he could see!

"Come."

Malcolm and Dudley came at him at the same time from almost opposite directions, but his eyes seemed to diverge from each other, and he could perfectly track all five. With his dominant left eye, he tracked Dudley, Dennis and Gordon, and with his left eye Malcolm and Piers.

Again, Harry ducked under Dudley's swing, and kicked Malcolm in the side. Malcolm was a skinny kid. That meant Harry could actually damage him. And so he did, he felt a strong connection from it.

Dudley could only be bruised at the most, he simply had too much mass for Harry to do any massive damage like he could with half the group. Standing up straight, he snapped his elbow back sharply, smashing it into the back of Dudley's cranium. The thud he heard was so satisfying after 11 years of similar treatment. It might be sadistic and sick, but it felt good to lash out and return some of the beatings he'd taken from these kids. But, fun as this was, he had to wrap this up and get back to Privet Drive.

Channeling more power into his eyes, Harry found himself whisked away into a vision, and his body moved.

Madara sneered, seeing right through the foolish Senju footsoldiers and their pathetic attempts to overwhelm him with numbers. They had the numbers but far from the quality he possess. Their capacity collectively just simply did not match his, or even come close to it in fact. The Sharingan, the Kekkei Genkai bloodline of his clan eradicated their numbers advantage for he could track them all at the same time. His glowing red eyes flashed back and forth, analysing, seeking the chinks in their guard, their fatal and last mistake, their weakness that was so apparent.

His foot collided viciously with the leader's face, his fist driving into another's throat with great force simultaneously, both falling to the ground. Smashing the heads of two together, he headlocked the one more and choked him out.

The others back away, and he heard one mutter, "Where's Hashirama when you need him?"

"Hashirama can come if he wishes." Madara felt a familiar anticipation at the name of his one time friend. The challenge those battles posed was simply… thrilling.

"Until then, come at me you flies. Show me the depths of your capacity, as meager an offering as it is. Let's see how long you fools can dance before there is no strength left in your step."

The vision ended smoothly and faded back into accursed, painful reality that was equally as sickening. In an instant, he was aware of the five Muggle kids lying at his feet, beaten and defeated. Now he felt a frightening deja vu as he remembered the scene Sasuke's elder brother had wrought against his clansmen.

"It is not wise to judge others based on your own preconceptions and their appearances." Harry heard himself hiss frustratedly at his clan members. "It's always 'the Clan this' and 'the Clan that'. You all fail to measure your own capacity, and then fail to see the depth of mine. And now you all lay before me, defeated. You assume that I am patient, and therefore, you underestimate me."

'This was Madara, not me.' Harry tried to reason with himself. 'His memory did this, not me.'

Thing was, he didn't know if he believed that.

"You freak…"

Dudley's insult shut down any guilt. That damn word. Oh how he hated it. It was a brand, a brand he had lived with all his life, not knowing why until Hogwarts came and chased him up, enforcing his entry into their world. Even now people still tried to brand him with that word, but no long did it define him. Not anymore.

Perhaps Madara had done him a favour with that memory, if it had turned the tables on Dudley like this.

'Has he really though?'

He set aside the thought for now.

Crouching down, Harry looked his pathetic cousin in the eyes. "Now do you get it? Try anything you want, but these eyes see through all of it. I'm done with you in this world Dudley, get over yourself. I have simply grown beyond your capacity, whilst you underestimated mine and belittled it. From here on out, contemplate this defeat, accept this defeat, and know pain for the first time in your life. This is the pain you caused me."

Shaken, Harry walked away, holding his head and mentally fighting off the memory of Madara that threatened to continue.

'Why did you do it?'

The thought was unfamiliar to him. He knew why he'd done it. So why was he asking himself why?

'Did he deserve it?'

Yes, he supposed. From his perspective, Dudley deserved that and more, but he had broken out of the memory before it could go any further. Some part of him was glad that he had stopped and yet another wanted to continue it. Ultimately, it didn't matter now because the fight was over.

'Isn't he family?'

Was he though? Harry honestly couldn't say he'd ever considered Dudley family, Vernon or Petunia either. Not truly family. No, to him Dudley was only ever his childhood bully.

'What is family to you?'

He was still working that one out.

Battle. War. Carnage.

Madara stood atop the hill, gazing down at the massacre in the valley below, gazing down on the Senju survivors with rage and a blazing single tomoe Sharingan.

"Once more you slaughter my clansmen! This ends!" The murderous Uchiha roared, flashing through hand seals.

Snake - Ram - Monkey - Boar - Horse - Tiger. He ended with the Tiger Seal, trademark of the Fire element jutsu. The chakra within him responded and shifted to Fire Nature, filling his lungs to the top, raring to burn something to ash.

"Fire Release: Fireball Jutsu!"

Leaning forward, he breathed a massive fireball down onto them.

Time flashed forward.

Madara snarled as he clashed swords with Tobirama, viciously driving the Senju back. "Izuna, proceed with the mission, I will dispose of them."

"As you say, Big Brother. Transformation Jutsu!"

A cloud of smoke and Izuna became Tobirama, and the squad of Uchiha followed suit, transforming into Senju member appearances. Madara's Sharingan noted the jutsu even though he already knew it.

The now disguised Izuna ran on ahead with the rest the Uchiha, leaving his older brother to battle 3 Senju child soldiers. But the Sharingan easily made up the difference, and within seconds he had already slaughtered Tobirama's teammates. The Senju grimaced and crossed two half Tiger seals into a cross sign. Madara's Sharingan perfect perceived and copied the jutsu as he heard its name.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu."

A wild grin slipped onto Madara's face.

"Counters for the Sharingan eh? I suppose it does back you up now that your comrades are dead, but it divides your strength." The Uchiha genius commented lazily, dancing around Tobirama and his Shadow Clones.

It was a long time before Harry slipped free of the memories forced on him during his sleep. When he finally did manage to get control back and shut down his Sharingan, which seemed to be a catalyst for the memories, he found himself in the same dark dungeon as the day he first awakened the Sharingan not even a week ago. The water about his feet felt ice cold, but this time he wouldn't go charging off without caution. It had gotten him nowhere last time.

Instead, he analysed the situation. The place looked the same as the last time, cold, dark and despairing. Well, that's what it looked like now. Cautiously, Harry activated the Sharingan, prepared to continue living through Madara's life again and break out of the memories as best he could.

Fortunately, no memories not his own came. All that happened was that he was graced the heightened perception of the Uchiha's eye.

Glancing about, he noticed that there were other corridors other than the one he tried to run down, which presumably held the memories he had subconsciously repressed. He didn't really want to go down there now, except to find out what had happened that night in Godric's Hollow. Even that he dreaded to bear witness to. But perhaps he had to bear it.

Wandering down the corridor cautiously, Harry continued to analyse his surroundings. The corridor he could see into led straight into a vast chamber that had a sickening green light wreathed in black mist trapped within some kind of cage, constantly bursting against it. One more led to some kind of jumbled library, clearly unsorted. He had powerful feel that those were his memories that he could consciously remember, judging by the familiar feelings he felt emanating from the closed books that lay unsorted on the floor.

This place appeared to be his mind, his mindscape as Sasuke had referred to it as when they met in death. Honestly, he didn't much care for the look of it, it was cold and lonely. Then again, waterlogged floors with dim light did seem to be the norm so far, if Sasuke's was any starting point to judge from.

But despite his best efforts, Harry couldn't avoid the ghosts that haunted him. Once again, he found himself draw to the dark place.

Sod it.

Slowly, the young wizard walked down the corridor. He heard the voices soon enough. His father's voice echoed about as he advanced until he hit the barrier that had held him back last time.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go…"

"Whatever is here can't be worse than what I've imagined."

Flaring the power of his eyes, Harry shattered the invisible wall to shards and walked through, unbarred. Now the full memory hit him, even as prepared as he was for it.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go…" James Potter cried, rushing to stop Voldemort, wand in hand as he was. "Grab Hailee and get out!"

Little Harry couldn't see much, cradled to his mother's chest as he was. But he clearly heard his father confront the Dark Lord. The deafening bangs of spells flying echoed up the stairs as Lily ran to the nursery. But the curious thing he noticed was that there was a newborn infant in the crib, and she too was crying, like him. Hailee. Baby Hailee Potter, born only just a few hours prior.

A sickening thud resounded from downstairs, and he heard the venomous voice drift up. "Well fought, James Potter. But you pale in comparison to the might of Lord Voldemort."

Lily's wand was nowhere to be found. All she had was her weakened body.

The Dark Lord glided up the stairs and blasted open the door to the nursery. Harry was placed beside the newborn baby girl, and Lily stood between them and Voldemort.

"Not Harry, not Hailee, please not either of them!"

"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now." Voldemort commanded in a high, cold voice.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead…"

That was not Voldemort's intention. He had come here to kill Harry and that was what he would do, Lily regardless. "Stand aside silly girl, this is the final chance you will have."

"Not my children! Please … have mercy … have mercy… "

Harry heard a shrill voice laughing and Lily screaming briefly before falling down, dead.

Then all there was a sickening green flying straight at his face, only to strike his forehead and rebound mostly upon Voldemort himself, but a little struck the newborn Hailee. The sickening green light murdered her too, tearing her soul from her infantile body, and then there was a shattering blast that blew out the entire roof and wall of the room. And all Harry could see was a black mist entering a lightning-shaped cut upon his forehead, and the little astral form of Baby Hailee's soul sucked into his body too.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Harry's Sharingan burned with pain as the memory ended, and he woke up to a now familiar cold sweat and barely a few hours sleep.

'We're in hell aren't we?'

July 31st, 1993

Arthur Weasley rose early on the much awaited morning. Getting dressed into a casual Muggle suit which he so prized, he quietly left the house and walked an appropriate distance from the house before turning on the spot and Apparating away to Number 4 Privet Drive.

He appeared with a quiet, considerate pop instead of the normal whip crack and quickly got his bearings. Number 4 was just down the street, he'd appeared at the end of the street due to the blood protection and other wards Dumbledore had in place around Harry's summer residence. Good man Dumbledore. He had done so much just to make sure Harry was safe, but apparently he had overestimated the Dursleys' ability to love.

Walking up to the door of the Dursley household, he knocked politely and waited. The door was opened not a moment later by a tall, prim and strict looking woman. Harry's Aunt Petunia, he knew her to be.

"Good morning to you Mrs Dursley, my name is Arthur Weasley. I believe you are aware that I will be picking up Harry today?"

Petunia nodded stiffly, a slight scathing tone, but also clear fear at Harry's name. "You can take the freaks, both of them this time!"

Both?

The harsh Muggle woman then bellowed up the stairs.

"Freak, get down here, your freakish friend's father is here! And bring the other with you!"

Not a moment later, Harry himself came stalking down the stairs, there was no other word for the guarded, wounded animal fashion in which he came down, dragging his trunk down with him. Arthur did a double take when he saw the young wizard.

Harry looked pitiful. He'd grown in height some, but at the clear expense of becoming almost skin and bone. Dark skin surrounded his eyes, he must not have been sleeping. He seemed somehow colder than when Arthur had seen him just two weeks ago, and his eyes, by Merlin! His once bright and warm green eyes were subdued and gaunt. Just what had happened that Harry would end up in such a state so quickly? He was concerned beyond all belief for the boy now. He needed to take Harry away, now!

Then the other appeared from behind Harry, as if part of his shadow.

A girl barely a year younger than Ginny was in his shadow. She had the same emerald green eyes of Lily Evan, just like Harry. Merlin's Beard! She was incredibly similar in looks to Harry himself, but far more Lily than James. The only thing of James Potter this girl had was his hair colour of midnight black.

In fact, Harry too now looked strikingly like Lily. With his hair growing longer, it had grown tamer, still spiky but not totally unruly as before. His face shape had shifted to be more like his mother's, all her features coming out in prominence.

However, the question still remained; just who was this girl?

Absently, Arthur stepped aside so the two children could exit the house. The door was slammed, and he shrunk the singular trunk to the size of a matchbox and pocketed it. Taking out his wand, the Weasley clan head led the pair off the property, then turned back to face them.

"Alright, I want you two to take a strong grip on each other, and one of you hold onto me tight too, we're going to Apparate."

It might've been just him, but he could've sworn the two sets of green eyes lit up at the mention of magical travel. Harry firmly grasped his wrist and linked hands with the strange girl. Turning on the spot once more, he Disapparated back to the Burrow. The quick transition of location was over in a few seconds, and the two looked not at all phased by the pressure feeling of the magical travel, unusually.

The expression on the girl's face didn't change when she saw his home, but Harry's lit up like a Lumos charm. It was a strange look on his changed features.

"Welcome to the Burrow."

Molly was in the kitchen making breakfast. When Arthur entered with the two children, she immediately rushed over and greeted them.

"Quick trip Arthur? No trouble I take it?" His wife enquired.

Arthur shook his head, sitting down at the table. "None dear. In fact those Muggles were awfully eager to get these two gone."

Molly then checked over the two black haired children, tutting under her breath.

"Harry, you look absolutely dreadful dear! You're as thin as a scarecrow, and too little sleep to boot. Don't even think about trying to say you have been, I know sleepless children. Bill was one, Charlie too, and so are the twins. Some Vitamix Potion and breakfast will fix that for today, but make sure to sleep later." Molly fussed, much Harry's seeming relief and annoyance all at once, strangely.

Then his wife turned to the girl who he had brought with Harry, and forgotten to ask her name, a bit of an oversight on his part. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry but you are, dear?"

"Just Hailee ma'am, Hailee Potter."