Digital

Chapter1

Digital Transformation

Chapter edited: 5/03/11

A/N: Many thanks to Berna45 who was the first to review this story.

To answer your question: Until I decide to change my plans (if I ever decide to do so) Harry will have a relationship with both Hermione and Renamon, though it will be primarily a H/HR fic.

Warning: A high amount of child abuse in this chapter.

Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived. Oh, how he hated that title.

Ever since Harry could remember the only thing he had ever wanted to be was normal. All he ever wanted to be was to be your everyday John Doe with a normal family, a normal job, normal house and to be loved like a normal person, not the famous savior of the wizarding world, the alleged defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; 'I'm the dark lord Voldemort'.

What a joke. So many people wanted to be just like him, not knowing what they were actually wishing for.

People only saw his fame and his vast stockpiles of gold in the bank, but did they ever stop and look at the other side of the coin? NO! Of course not, why would they? They were all too happy to leave the dirty work to him.

People expected him to defeat a wizard at least 50 years his senior, a wizard so powerful, so dark, so nasty… so feared, that he had the whole country shaking in their boots at the mere sound of his name.

He, a mere schoolboy of 14 years, how could he, ever even dream to defeat the darkest, most feared, most powerful 'Dark Lord' ever to exist. It was a joke, a deadly sick joke on his expense, but still a joke. That man couldn't even die…or so it seemed.

That's what Harry was thinking as he rode the Hogwarts express home from Hogwarts at the end of his 4th year of magical education at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, premier school of magic in all of Europe. (at least that's what they say)

At least 'home' was what the manipulative old man, who named himself 'the headmaster', called the place Harry was off to, to spend his summer holidays.

Holidays? What's that? Another joke?

Oh sure, Harry fully understood what a holiday was, though he never really had the privilege to ever experience a real one for himself.

'Durskaban' or 'Durskatraz,' that's what he called his home during the summer, take your pick, it was anything but a holiday resort.

Far from it in fact as his all so nastily pleasant relatives; his horse faced aunt Petunia, his walrus uncle Vernon and their Son, 'I'm as fat as a whale' Duddy Diddi Dummykins, would have plenty of nice tiring jobs, just waiting for him to do, the moment he set a foot into 'their' house.

It seemed their only goal in life, besides to laze around all day, was to keep him abused, starved to the bone, fully occupied for the whole summer, and preferably as far away from them as possible, without attracting too much attention from their all so delightfully nice and nosy neighbours.

Harry's life was a joke all right. A big bad, 'I'm a dangerous wolf amongst blind sheep,' nasty short of joke, and he hated it.

Even his life at school wasn't much better. In the four years he had attended Hogwarts, he was in constant danger.

People had attempted to murder him numerous times during the past four years and two of them were actually professors charged with his safety. One of them at the end of his first year, the other just a few days before he left the school for the year, right after his return from a surprise –practically one sided- battle against the dark tosser 'Mouldyshorts' himself.

As if that wasn't enough, in his second year he fought and barely won against a 50 foot large basilisk, a creature so venomous and dangerous it could kill you by simply looking at you.

In his forth year he again barely won against a brooding Hungarian Horntail, a dragon so fierce it took a small army of specially trained wizards to simply contain it.

In his third he had to single handily rescue his innocent - yet dubbed criminal - Godfather from hundreds of creatures called dementors, creatures so foul they fed on your happy memories and left you with nothing but your worst most darkest nightmares, which they made you relive over and over again, before they finally sucked out your soul and left you behind as an empty husk of mindless quivering flesh.

And why? You ask yourselves. I'll tell you why. The why is that 13 years ago one of his parents' best friends was a rat of a traitor, no pun intended, and had thought it wise to sell their secret location to the enemy.

The outcome of which was that the dark jerk himself had come to their house and murdered his parents before turning his wand at baby Harry and firing the same spell which had killed his parents at Harry, only to have that same spell somehow reflected back at him, killing him instead, temporarily, and by doing so ending a war which had lasted decades. That's why.

But did they - even just for a second - ever stop to ponder what actually happened? Did they stop and realise that the one person who they expect to save them was actually a one year old baby at the time with no magical knowledge what so ever? No of course not.

Stupid idiots!

Thinking back Harry wondered just how he ever managed to stay sane throughout his life.

Probably by keeping himself busy by training himself for his 'duty' to the world, a world which indecently didn't really value him for what he did for them.

Sometimes, amongst all the slander and media smears he was receiving, calling him a disillusioned attention seeking brat with an ego to large for his head, he wondered why he even bothered at all. It would be so easy just to 'off himself', so easy to let them deal with the problem themselves.

As it was, his training and his friends were all he had left to keep him going, the only two things worth fighting for, which kept his hopes up and made the daily struggle worthwhile enough to continue.

Every bit of extra information, every new spell he learned might be just what he needed to survive, to win, and his few precious people were the sole reason why he was doing it all.

That was why Harry was currently smuggling a book out of the school, from the restricted section no less and that that said book was currently residing safely, shrunk, in his pocket, with an automatic resizing charm on it, just waiting for him to get home, to be read, and its secrets learned.

Not just any book mind you, but a special book, about the animagus transformation, written by Merlin, the greatest wizard of all times and alleged founder of modern magic himself. A one of a kind book which had somehow, managed to find its way into the restricted section of the school and out of the headmasters' private study where it belonged.

Harry hoped that becoming an animagus would be the edge he needed to survive. He didn't care what he had to do, or how many rules he had to break to achieve that goal. After all it was all for the greater good, or at least that's what Dumbledore would say, that is, if he were in Harry's position.

Little did Harry know what it really was and that in the next few weeks it would change his life, forever.

The ride 'home' from Kings Cross was the same ordeal, just like every other time.

Once safely in the car (from his relatives point of view) his uncle would, as was usual for them; threaten him with bodily harm if he didn't do as he was told, remind him (as in order him) to leave his 'freakish' side out of the house and in the freak school where it belonged and tell him about all of the jobs which he was going to have to do over the summer.

This was usually a long list of chores, too many for anybody to handle, least of all a boy, and what was more, he had to do them all without a single protest, whilst everybody else in the house sat in front of the television or ate all day.

He was their personal slave, unloved, unappreciated and - for the most part - completely unwanted.

If any of these chores was done unsatisfactorily, or with even the hint of a complaint, he would quickly find himself without dinner, or any other food for that matter and be sent straight to his room where the door was then locked… from the outside.

All in all Harry had to be happy if that was all that happened to him.

Sometimes when his Uncle came home drunk because of a failure at his workplace, he would often find himself on the receiving end of his anger, meaning, he would temporarily become the family's own personal live punching bag.

Finally, it was expected that all of this was - of course - to be done out of their line of sight. Out of mind out of sight so to speak, the meaning was all too clear.

Harry watched as the car pulled into the Dursley's drive way. He was mildly annoyed that it was raining heavily outside.

Just a few minutes ago the sky had somehow decided that now was the right time to open up and to release a month's load of water supply, all in the next hour or two. That it had to be at that moment was typical. Somebody up there really had to hate him, he thought gloomily.

Without another word his uncle opened the car door and without even sparing his nephew a single look, he rushed into the house, leaving Harry behind to take care of his trunk and other baggage.

Getting thoroughly soaked in the process, his 'family' watching him from the window, Harry managed to retrieve his luggage from the boot of the car and into the house.

Not once did his relatives offer to help him, not that he expected them to of course. To mention it would not only have been futile, but extremely foolish and would only have earned him a clip behind the ear, or if unlucky, a round of pain over his uncles lap.

With great difficulty Harry managed to drag his baggage up the stairs and into his room. He was just about to close the door when his uncle stepped in and sneered at him.

"Take that freak trunk of yours and put in into your old cupboard. Then I want you to complete this list of chores, starting with the mess you have made downstairs. If done correctly you might, and I stress the word might, be allowed to join us for supper tonight," he said, handing Harry a piece of paper while at the same time looking at Harry as if he was nothing more than a speck of dirt on the ground. (which for him he was)

Harry's heart sank. How was he supposed to do his homework without his books?

However, he didn't complain. What use would it do anyway? He had long given up trying to convince his uncle that he needed his books to do his homework, his uncle simply didn't care. No! Harry knew quite well that nothing would please his uncle more than if he were expelled from his school.

In fact if it weren't for the fact that Dumbledore needed him in 'his' school and under his manipulative fat, ugly nose, he would most likely already have happened. As it was, it had not.

"Yes sir!" Harry said, then took his trunk and under the supervising eye of his uncle he placed it into his old cupboard under the stairs, the same cupboard he had indecently spent most of his younger years in.

That was before he got Dudley's second bedroom due to a mixture of fear of what other wizards from 'his' world would do to them if they didn't, and partly because he was now too large for it anyway. (Though they probably wouldn't have cared about that)

After watching sadly as his uncle locked the cupboard with numerous specially made locks of different shapes and sizes, one of them an army grade lock with a digital password, Harry, rubbing his stinging bottom after a hard slap from his uncle for taking too long, trudged back to his room to change out of his soaked clothes into a pair of dirty rags his aunt had left out for him.

Like all of his non-school clothes it was a second… perhaps even third class hand-me-down from his- several sizes larger- cousin Dudley.

Finished with that Harry placed his wand and the still shrunken book, the only two things he had left on his person - simply because they had been in his pocket the whole time - into his hidden compartment; a hole in the floor which was usually covered by a loose floor board.

That done, he proceeded down the stairs to clean up 'the mess he had made,' (even though it had been made by is uncle and not himself) then continued with the long list of chores his uncle had given him, barely finishing them in time for supper.

His aunt sniffed in disdain as Harry took his seat at the kitchen table and Harry watched quietly as she placed a small piece of a water melon on to his plate.

With another sinking feeling Harry noticed that Dudley was still on his forced diet. (Not that it really mattered as Dudley always snuck downstairs when ever his parents weren't looking to raid the fridge).

Eating his meager little melon without complaint, Harry was just about to clear away the dishes and leave quickly, before his uncle could give him any more chores to do, when said uncle choose that moment to speak.

"Boy! we, I mean by that your aunt, cousin and myself, are going to be going on a short trip to the north to a business meeting for a few days…"

Hearing this Harry's heart leapt for the first time in days, he might actually be able to get a few days of relative peace to read his book, or so he hoped.

Seeing his sudden change of mood Vernon continued to speak; "…do not think we are going to leave you alone here with nothing to do…"

At this time his uncle handed him a thick fat book filled with chores for him to do while they were away and gloated in delight as he saw Harry's fleeting smile falter.

"…I expect you to have each of these chores done before we are back in two weeks, if not you will not like the consequences… do I make myself clear?" he asked in a menacing voice.

Harry looked at the thick book and had great difficulty hiding his horror. It would take all of his valuable time to take care of even a fraction of the chores in the book. How was he ever supposed to finish all of them?

Seeing the look of clear horror on his nephews face Vernon allowed himself the joyful pleasure of a smile.

"Yes…I'm completely serious about this. Mark my words boy, should these not be done, you will not see the light of day for quite a while," Vernon said viciously, then, without another look, he motioned Harry to get into his room and out of his sight.

The first thing Harry did the moment he got back to the relative safety of his room was lie down on to his bed and cry.

Harry's first few days of solitude without the oppressive presence of the Dursleys went by without as much of a hitch. Harry woke up early in the mornings, worked the whole day, only to stop for a quick meal in the afternoon, (his aunt had rationed how much he could take for each day and once that was gone that was it) before going back to work, only to drop asleep the moment his head reached his dirty, blood stained pillow every night.

Even with all of the work Harry was doing he knew full well that there was no hope for him to have all of the chores on the list done by the end of the two weeks.

His nights were plagued by nightmares, most of them of the battle against Voldemort in the graveyard or dreams of his mothers last moment alive.

His dreams seemed to take a perverse pleasure of showing him the same scenes over and over again; the death of Cedric Diggory, the horrible flash of green from the Avada Kadavra curse Voldmeort had killed his mother with…

That dream would then change over to a room where all of his friends would be waiting for him and would then point their fingers at him, blaming him for his friends and mothers death, and the death of countless others.

Finally Vernon would appear and start to beat him up, first with fists, then with more.

Harry lasted nearly a full week before he finally broke down.

For one whole full day he simply lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, It would be so easy, he contemplated, so easy to simply…. But no, somehow, for some reason he just couldn't do it. Something, some divine presence, was stopping him from doing so… stopping him from taking the final step. Cursing his weakness, this lasted for the whole day until one day later something in him simply snapped.

Suddenly he didn't care anymore what happened to him. If anything he would be happy when it was all over. He wouldn't worry about the Dursleys doing it when the time came. Not anymore. If they killed him, then he would welcome it with open arms and try to put a smile on his lips (if he still could), if not, well then he would simply deal with whatever they did to him when the time came. But no more would he simply let them bully him around anymore, from now on he would fight fire with fire, ministry and Dumbledore be damned. From now on he would fight back.

From that day onwards Harry only did what he wanted to do, which was read from his book on the animagus transformation.

That morning he read a few chapters, then tried to memorize them before he read some more. At dinner time he would go down to the kitchen to grab a little food from the rationed supply his aunt had begrudgingly left him. Breaking into the padlocked fridge (something which he very well knew would earn him the cane later on…or worse a round with the iron...) Harry had his first real meal of the summer, then, once done, he would read some more.

Finally, just when he felt his head couldn't possibly take in any more, he finished reading and started straight into the steps the book suggested he should do.

This included clearing his head until the only thing he had left in his mind was the clear picture of what he wanted to become, then, when that was done he would start to attempt to change parts of his body into that of his preferred creature.

Harry had skipped the second and third parts of what the book mentioned he should do and had gone straight to the forth part as he had already completed the second and third parts while still in school.

Those parts were to make an animagus revealing potion, which he did with a little help from his best friend Hermione. This potion when taken would show you your animagus form or forms. In Harry's case he found out that he had two forms; the first was a phoenix, the other a fox. Hermione's had only had one form which had been an owl which looked almost identical to his familiar Hedwig with only a few slight differences.

The other part was to research and memorize all he could about the desired creature. In Harry's case he studied both, the fox and the phoenix.

The phoenix seemed to be somewhat larger than Fawkes, Dumbledores phoenix familiar and had red feathers with black stripes along its wings and body, instead of Fawkes's gold and red, while the fox had gorgeous yellowish brown fur, two pointy ears which could be clearly seen from its head and a long furry tail.

Clearing his mind again of nothing else but his phoenix form, Harry tried to change a finger into a talon, but nothing happened.

A little disappointed but not disheartened as he didn't expect it to be that easy, Harry tried again concentrating harder, but as before, nothing happened.

Grinning slightly to himself, happily accepting the newest challenge he was confronted with, he settled down for a long day of practice. After all, it was not like he had anything else of importance to do. The chores which he had been given were now at the back of his mind, locked away into his mental compartment of scorn and contempt.

From that moment onwards Harry spent all of his time, save for the few minutes he took to raid the large fridges supplies, to practice his transformation.

First he practiced his phoenix form, but when, after a few days, still nothing happened and he realized he only had half a week of Dursley free time left, a frustrated Harry changed over to practice his fox form instead. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that it was a magical form and therefore more difficult to master.

However, unfortunately, the same happened with his fox form and in the end there was only one day left before the Dursleys were to come back from their trip and Harry still hadn't managed to change a simple hand into a paw.

Frustrated and worried about the next day, Harry became more and more erratic. During the whole day at different times, his mind would start to wander and fantasize about what his so called family would do to him when they came back. Would he be able to fight back? Would he die? At the start of the week it had all seemed so easy, but now…

Nearly stark crazy from his ever increasing doubts and simply thinking about what would happen the next day, Harry had to remind himself once again that he was now in control, that things would now be different, that his troubles were now over…

"No! Not this time, this stops now!" Harry suddenly swore to himself loudly as he tried to settle his frayed nerves. This time he would fight back, magical underage restrictions be damned, Hogwarts be damned, and above all else, Dumbledore be damned.

From this day onwards he would be nobodies' punching bag anymore. From this day onwards he would be nobodies fool and if the eggheaded bureaucratic pencil pushers in the ministry didn't want him then he wouldn't care what Voldemort did to them when he finally came to knock on their doors.

With those thoughts in his mind Harry went back to his animagus training with greater determination than before.

Then it happened.

Whether it was the sudden relief he felt that he would be able to defend himself and that he would not simply have to stand there and let his uncle beat him, or whether it was the new feeling of confidence and determination he now felt at the notion that he was really finally controlling his life, (no matter for how short that may be) he would never know, but the sudden positive thoughts he felt settled his mind long enough for the transformation to happen.

At the very next moment Harry cleared his mind, pictured the animal form he wanted to change into, visualized the change happening and willed it to happen, he finally changed….but not into what he expected, but into something completely different and definitely not in the way he expected it to happen.

The first sign that something had gone wrong was the sheer pain he felt all over his body as it began to change. That by itself was normal as everybody was supposed to feel some pain when they first changed a part of their body into that of an animal, but when the pain was much greater than expected and when the transformation didn't stop at simply a talon, Harry knew he was in trouble.

Panicking, the last thing Harry saw before he lost consciousness was the start of a wing appear from where his arm had once been moments before, then all went black.

A/N: This is it Harry's transformation into a digimon and the start of his new life. Any guesses on what form he will take?

Hint: Look at his animagus forms.

Chapter edited: 5/03/11