AN: Blame the shortness on my temporary depression, this story is not dead, but I posted this chapter before completing it because I originally planned on giving up. This is no longer the case, the fic must go on!
Darkness. Panting. Heavy breathing. My own? Or another's? No. Both. Running, sprinting, fleeing. From who? No, from what? Predator, hunter, attacker. Beast. But who is who? Am I beast? Or am I prey. Hot breath caresses my neck. Prey. I am prey.
Muscles burn, sight avoids me. Smell. Rancid breath. Decay, blood, death. Hear? Growling, panting, claws grinding into concrete, feet slamming into the ground. Feel? Terrified.
Light returns in an instant. A speck though. Nothing more. Hope, safety. A chance. I push myself further. Getting closer. The light fills my vision. Glance back, see the hunter. Crimson eyes of hellfire glare back at me. Jaws filled with gnashing, feral fangs. Sharp, curved claws rip apart the ground it runs on. All from a large grotesque body of coppery red - no, it is not red it is covered in red. Blood. The beast is dripping blood from every pore on its body, leaving a crimson trail behind it back to the darkness.
My pace increases as I seek to flee this new terror. Before it was unknown what was after me but now that I have seen it I know everything has changed. The creatures sprint hastens to, as if it senses how close I am to escaping. My various limbs feel like lead, weighing me down, as if desiring to help the creature to capture me.
The light is close, oh so very close. I could feel it, almost touch it. I stretched my arm out in an attempt to reach it. I feel a tug. On my back. Then pain. A searing, burning, boiling pain as claws rip into the flesh of my back, tearing great chunks away. I am dragged backwards, the creature's breath hot against my skin. The light begins to fade again. Pain. That is all I know. And the eyes. Crimson eyes of hellfire, pinning me down. And then nothing.
My eyes snap open as I shoot upwards from my not so peaceful slumber, taking in deep shuddering gasps of stale cupboard air. My heart is thumping almost painfully in my chest, and my body is caked with sweat. I take long breaths as I try to slow my raging heartbeat.
The nightmares were unfortunately a regular occurrence in my life now. Sometimes they were of the Dursleys attacking me, verbally, physically, and on a number of occasions sexually. Fortunately they never did go that far. A small blessing but a blessing nonetheless. Other times they were of the dog. The dog that had almost killed me a few years back. Even today it sometimes haunts my dreams, though they were a rarity.
But the worst was the one I never expected. The dreams of that fateful Halloween. It was always fragmented, never seeming to make sense if one were to look at it from an outsider's perspective. A crash, a bang, screams and thuds. A flash of green. A begging mother. A high pitched laugh and an unholy screech. The few times that I was subjected to that dream I would always wake in cold sweat and be unable to fall back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried.
I was surprised that the dream, or perhaps more accurately, memory, was so vivid. Harry had only been a year old by the time that had happened and for him to remember even a fraction of it let alone as much as he did was impressive and just a tad scary.
But the real kicker was the fact that I could remember it. When I was brought here I was just kind of shoved into Harry's body. By all rights I shouldn't have remembered this at all. And yet I did. My only guess was that either part of Harry's soul had remained and had merged with mine. Most likely as another possible side effect of Voldy's killing curse. Instead of just splitting his soul again and shoving a piece into Harry's scar, it may also have broken off a small fragment of Baby Harry's soul. Enough for me to remember that night at least.
Or maybe it was something completely different. I don't know I'm no expert on souls. For all I know it could be my imagination, or a side effect of Voldy's soul leech, or even a curse put in place by a possibly manipulative goat fondler. All I know for sure was that I had the memory. No idea how, just that it was there. It warranted further investigation when I eventually got to the wizarding world. And that time was close. I had a feeling.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, a habit that had not gone away in my years as Harry, I turned to the lock on the cupboard, pulled out a hair clip and screwdriver and set about making my way out for my morning routine. How the hell did I know how to do this? Well time for a good old fashioned flashback.
Flashback
After the whole schoolyard brawl incident and the aftermath I knew I had one goal in mind. Get stronger. Strong enough to deal with any big problems in the next few years at least. Major problem with that being that I was being locked the cupboard whenever I wasn't needed, i.e when I either had to cook or performing hours of inane back breaking chores simply so the Dursleys could get their sick amusement out of it. Petunia often seemed to find time to just sit and watch me work with some demented version of a smile, while Vernon occasionally took a swing at my amidst all of his verbal attacks.
So I didn't exactly have time to hone my skills or add to my repertoire. The only time I had to myself was during breaks at school, and the damn headmistress had stuck me in detention for a month, meaning I couldn't find somewhere isolated to develop myself.
She'd even stopped me from going to see Mr Dornez about music lessons, something I had been really looking forward to doing. It was a passive life skill that under my gaming powers I could hopefully learn easily, which could serve as something to use later on in my life. What use exactly I don't know exactly but hey, chicks love a guy that can sing and play. So there's that at least.
The one plus side this gave me was that I had a lot of time to think. I knew what I wanted. I just needed to figure out how to get it. The first obstacle was getting out of the cupboard so I could train without anyone finding out. If the Dursleys found out they would kill me. No doubt. They were willing to beat and psychologically torture a young boy who didn't even know he was magical, I didn't doubt that if they knew that I knew they would kill me just to stop me from getting any revenge, as well as using it as a twisted way of protecting their public image.
My first choice was just to blast open the door and leave. Big problems with that. Dursleys would find out in a few seconds given the noise, unless they were super heavy sleepers, and even then they'd know in the morning when they found the door blasted off its hinges. Next would be the reaction of Dumbledore. I had no idea what I was dealing with in terms of him, so I was following a very simple policy in regards to him. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. If he was a total control freak than he'd be down here the second he knew I'd done anything he might not agree with, wipe my memories, and then the whole future would be fucked. So yeah, best if he didn't find out.
Seeing as my life had become a videogame, I looked back on my memories of video games to try to find the best solution. The answer was obvious. Just pick the lock. While traditional cupboards had a slide lock, the Dursleys had sprung for a key lock, just to be extra sure I didn't get out. Too bad for them it could be locked/unlocked on either side.
So I had the method, now I needed the tools. Luck was with me as the day after I made my plan, Vernon decided to be extra cruel (or stupid), and had me organising the tools in his garage for the day. Yep, an 8 year old boy handling large, sharp, heavy, potentially deadly tools. What could go wrong? Though that may have been the point, given how Vernon was "helping", which amounted to him standing and glaring at me while seemingly praying to God that an "accident" would happen.
"Hey Vernon!" a call from across the street drew our mutual attention though I refrained from turning fully to face the speaker, choosing instead to look out of the corner of my eye. It was one of the neighbors, coming over to chat with Vernon for some reason or another. Vernon moved to block me from the sight of his visitor, either to stop me from properly eavesdropping (though how that would help escapes me), or to stop him from seeing me and asking questions.
The good news was that because of this, I was hidden from the sight of both of them. With an open toolbox in front of me. I quickly scanned through its contents, avoiding making much noise as I moved tools around in my search, while keeping an ear out on Vernon's conversation in in case they stopped talking and decided to look at me instead. Within 20 seconds I had what I was looking for. A screw driver. If Fallout 4 taught me anything, it's that war never changes and a bobby pin and a screwdriver can get you through anything resembling a lock.
I sent the screwdriver into my inventory, making a mental note to "Observe" it later. I quick glance at Vernon and his pal showed the two still in conversation, so I sent my gaze back to the tool box when I realised that I could probably pick up some other useful goodies. Vernon barely ever came and used his tools, they were more for show rather than practical use, or at least I thought. The only time I know of him using tools were during the letter incident and that was years away. He wouldn't notice if a few things went missing.
With that in mind I set about sending any tools that Vernon had extras of right into my inventory. Spanners (wrenches), some nails and screws, and even a claw hammer (the only thing I took that Vernon had only one of) all went straight to the inventory. My reasoning was that some of the junk could be sold somewhere for money, or at least I hoped. You could sell most things to merchants in games but I was living some weird cross between reality and fantasy so that may not hold true. Any junk that I couldn't sell I could hopefully use to make, something. Nothing came to mind but I was sure something would soon enough.
Lastly, the hammer I could use as a weapon. Hardly a very impressive weapon but it was small so I could easily handle it, pretty heavy in the head so it would pack a punch, plus it was better than nothing. I didn't know its stats, I'd have to check that later that night along with everything else. All in all it was a successful little theft session. Soon enough Vernon and his friend(?) finished their talk about whatever and I hurried to look busy. An hour later I was locked back in the cupboard with time to inspect my stuff.
"Observe"
Screwdriver
(Sharp one handed)
(Crafting tool)
(Common rarity)
An everyday screwdriver that you can buy from a shop. Nothing special.
Damage = 15
Durability = 96/100
Spanner
(Crafting tool)
(Common rarity)
A tool commonly used to tighten nuts and bolts. There are many types made for different sized nuts/bolts.
Nails(20)
(Crafting tool)
(Common rarity)
Used as fasteners, nails are a cornerstone in any construction project.
Screws(17)
(Crafting tool)
(Common rarity)
Claw Hammer
(Blunt one handed)
(Crafting tool)
(Common Rarity)
A hammer with a strong head for bashing in nails, with an added 'claw' that can be used to pull them out.
Damage = 15.75
Durability = 94/100
I smiled at my collection. The screwdriver and hammer could be used as weapons which made a lot of sense. They could be used to stab and bash opponents to death or unconsciousness depending on the situation. That they could be used to craft things along with the nails and screws raised an eyebrow, though it made sense. Why shouldn't I be able to make things? All it required was some imagination and a bit of know how and you could feasibly make anything. If you had the right tools that is. As it was, a hammer, screwdriver, spanner and some nails and screws wasn't going to let me build a whole lot. But right now, none of that mattered. The screwdriver was what I needed from my little theft, and with that my plan was well on its way.
Barely a minute after I had put my prizes away, Petunia was yanking me out of the cupboard and throwing me into the kitchen to prepare their tea. Suppressing a glare, I started grabbing utensils and ingredients and went to work. An hour and a piece of bread for me later, and I was back in the cupboard once more. Filling myself up with some of the remaining stolen foodstuffs, I started poking around in search of the other item I needed for my plan of cupboard escape. A hair(bobby)pin. Fortunately for me, the cupboard was littered with them, so I gathered them up and put them all into my inventory before laying down to nap before my daring, if temporary, escape.
Blinking the sleep out of my eyes a few hours later, I stretched out my cramped muscles and peeked through the, fortunately, still opened grate to be greeted with darkness. It was night then. Best time to try and escape. Problem being I couldn't see. Like at all. I could barely see my own hands let alone try to pick a lock. My feelings sank. Defeated by the lack of light. I had all the tools but a goddamn way to see what I was doing. Damn you lack of foresight. I was tempted to crawl into a ball and see if it was at all possible to cry anime tears when I was struck with a bolt of inspiration.
Light. I needed light. Needed it, wanted it, craved it. And wasn't that what magic could do? Give us anything we want given the right aptitude and power. So what was making a little bit of light to me. I could already manipulate gravity in a sense, so how difficult could making a bit of a dim light be. Redetermined to succeed with my escape, I sat back and relaxed, letting the darkness surround me. I felt uncomfortable. I needed that light. Light was warm, comforting. It banished shadows. Fills us with hope. Light was a basic desire of humans for centuries. And I needed it now.
I reached into myself. Desperately seeking some well of power, to claim any I could, even just a drop. And find it I did. It was hot, cold, welcoming and alien, and a thousand different things all at once. It was indescribable. It was magic. My magic. Wild and chaotic, yet orderly. Unaligned and ready to use. I pulled on it, sending the feeling down my arm, while focusing on my desire for light. As the power coalesced in my hands, I cupped them and brought them to my chest, where I felt my magic at its strongest, while I poured the last of my intent into the magic. My eyes closed as I concentrated and pushed the magic out through my skin.
And that is it folks, sorry about the sheer lack of anything, it's just been a big rush through January and February. Never got any time to write.
This chapter will be re-uploaded with the other half when it has been completed, just consider this a very big preview.
Anywho onto the results of the poll. They are as follows:
In 4th place with 17/131 votes, it is the mysterious 1st year lemon. (Still haven't figured out what it would have been)
In 3rd place with 24/131 votes, it's the ASAP lemon set prior to Hogwarts even begins. (oh you kinky little people wanting a little hot lady on young Harry action, I won't judge I did give you the option)
In 2nd place with 33/131 votes, it is kitty cat Hermione lemon (Shout out to all my furry brothers and sisters out there, wanting to know if carpets match the drapes, and the wallpaper and the rest of the house)
And lastly in 1st place, we have the kinky blonde bombshell herself, the 3rd year Narcissa Malloy lemon (Did you want him to seduce her or her to seduce him I wonder?)
So that's it. That is all I can do for this fic on my own. I leave it now to you people. You amazing people. You bloody fantastic people of the internet. It's your time now.