Power of Imagination: The Power He knows Not
Chapter 001 – Leaving
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'The Power the Dark Lord knows not' that Trelawney's prophecy talks about is the powers to bring artwork to life, in 3-D liven' breathing form. When Harry, tossed to the side because of his GWL sister, discovers his powers, he not only thinks of his imaginary friends, but all beings his imagination has ever thought of. And he has a big imagination. Oh, this is going to be interesting.
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P.S Any Corporations which have characters starring from the 'Power' will either not have that character, or doesn't exist. The beings in the story will be because of his imagination, and only that.
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"Oh, Victoria, sweetie, that's so amazing," cooed Lily Potter over the picture her 'prodigy' daughter had made.
"It was so easy Mom." cooed Victoria 'Vickie' Potter - or as she was more commonly known, the Girl Who Lived.
Lily Potter smiled and gushed as she grabbed the colorful drawing her daughter had made. Putting a sticking charm on it, she stuck it on the wall along with the rest of her hero daughter's masterpieces.
Meanwhile, upstairs hiding by the stairs, little five-year-old Harry Potter, the twin to the Girl Who Lived, sat listening to his mother fuss over his sister in the kitchen. He was in the process of trying to make a decision that had been plaguing him for a while.
He was alone he realized, the most alone he had been for the past two years. Ever since Vickie had 'vanquished' Voldemort, he had been more and more pushed to the side, ignored in favor of his sister, who became more and more arrogant and bratty. That picture, as well as most of the ones his parents thought was Vickie's, were actually his. He was a great artist, but Vickie would take them from him, be it by doing it when he wasn't looking, or by force, and proclaiming that they were hers. The one time he had told his parents the fact, he had been sent to his room without dinner for 'trying to take credit for something your sister had created'.
Why did everyone suck up to her like they did, almost to the point of worship? It couldn't all be because she defeated the worst wizard in a really long time. Could it? But then what else could it be? That just seemed so cruel and unfair to him. Why was he not just as special as his sister?
'But then again,' he thought to himself, 'if I was as special as Vickie, I could've turned out just like her.'
Harry shuddered to himself at that thought. He knew that he was special in his own way, but all Harry had to do was look at his sister's cheek, to see the S - shaped scar to show the world the mark of the Chosen One, one who had defeated the greatest Dark Lord in history, to know he was nothing, nothing in his parent's eyes compared to his sister. Sure, he had a cool lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, but he was told it came from the harmless remains of the curse after it hit his sister and catapulted back to kill the Dark Lord.
Suddenly he heard laughter and talking. Peeking around the corner of the staircase, Harry saw his dad had come home with Sirius and Remus in tow. All of them were talking and laughing, and then Vickie ran out and disappeared into the mass of men and talking and laughing, each of them now hugging Vickie.
It was then that little Harry Potter knew what he was going to do. For in that moment, Harry Potter decided that he did not belong here with his parents and his brother. His parents wouldn't give any time to him, give him any of their love and attention; he shouldn't waste any more on the likes of them.
And with that, he walked back to his room; got out his backpack with all the little Snitches that zoomed around on it and packed up some of his muggle clothes and other things he thought he would need. Once he was done with all the common stuff, he unpacked his personal, precious thing from where they were hidden – under the floorboards underneath his bed.
He unpacked all the things under there; a journal once given to him by his father's boss, the lady with the monocle; a necklace made of string with a metal symbol on the end by a strange blonde-haired, misty blue-eyed girl his age named Luna; his father's old Invisibility cloak, which he had given to Vickie before she lost it in a grand total of less than a day. He had found it outside, in the old tree house. The last thing he withdrew was the most precious thing to him; an old book he had found hidden away in the Potter library, with pages slightly yellowed with age and, at the beginning, only four pages with stuff on them, though he had added a bit to the book. There had been two pictures, a thing he thought was a title, and a name. The writings were in a strange language that he couldn't read.
With all his stuff packed up, and before he could talk himself out of it, Hadrian "Harry" James Potter, five years old, left Potter Manor, and the English Wizarding World not to be heard from for six years.