Title: One's Most Hated Name
Summary: Harry Potter's younger brother, Mark was thought to be the prophesized child and Harry was left to the orphanage where Voldemort attended. Harry's adventure as a first year student will turn for the worst.
Genre: Angst/Action&Adventure
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: If I was JKR, then I'd be the person giving out interviews to Mugglenet and HPANA, but I'm not.
Harry thought it odd for a few men to be huddled in the corner holding white masks and whispering to one another. Harry moved on though, after all, this might be a wizard religion or something of the likes. Harry walked to the brick wall of an entryway to Diagon Alley, though the thought of the men were still nagging at him.
Harry recalled back to when yesterday, James tapped the bricks on the wall of the entryway into Diagon Alley and started tapping at the brick wall.
Tom gaped as he watched a young boy tap his wall with merely his fingers. "STOP! Sir, if you tap it in the wrong order or without a wand, then you would be sucked in!" Tom ran to stop the boy but before he could reach him, the bricks started shifting into an alleyway door. The boy looked at Tom with an inquisitive glance and walked off into the shop filled street.
Harry ignored Tom, as he didn't want Tom to recognize him just yet. Harry looked over his long list of school supplies. All right, robes first. Harry walked down the long road, ignoring glances given to him by a couple of schoolgirls who passed by. Spotting a small store with gleaming "Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions", Harry entered it. Though he sincerely regretted what he did the split-second after he entered.
Mark Potter stood on a small, wooden chair facing a large, gray mirror. Mark grew taller than Harry had expected over the last ten years. Mark has desperately uncontrollable hair, which he made even more unruly when he ruffled it now and again. Unlike himself, Mark has large milky-brown eyes.
Harry was stunned. It was his first sight of his brother in ages though a sarcastic voice in his head made its voice heard, 'More family reunions. Oh Goodie' Harry turned to leave though a witch Harry suspected to be Madam Malkins grabbed Harry's wrist. "Oh! Another Hogwarts student? Right this way, now. Don't be shy," the lady said and dragged Harry onto a stool beside Mark.
"Hogwarts too?" Mark asked nonchalantly.
Harry was secretly glad that his brother, like his father, didn't notice much of the smaller details.
"Yes," was all Harry said, desperate to get out of the room as soon as the tape measure stopped.
"Oh, which house do you think you will be in?" Mark pressed on, looking at Harry oddly.
"House?" Harry asked, though he haven't thought much about it, Harry supposed that whatever house he was meant for will do.
"Yes, you know…house? Or are you muggleborn?" Mark asked while he quirked and eyebrow, as if trying to egg Harry on to something.
"No, I'm not muggleborn," Harry replied, disliking his younger brother even more.
"Do you know who I am? Must be the lighting, I'm Mark Potter," Mark introduced himself and swelled up his chest, almost in a manner as if he expected a medal.
"Yeah, I know" Harry replied yet again with his short replies. Mark was about to say something to Harry but Harry never got to find out what because just then, Madam Malkins cut in.
"Mr. Potter? Your robes are ready, your father is at the counter paying for them right now," Mrs. Malkins said.
Mark stepped down from the chair, gave Harry a backwards glance, muttered something and walked off.
Mark's impression on Harry was split. One was a spoilt brat who thought he saved the day when he did nothing but cry when Voldemort was in the room. Mark wasn't the one who stopped Voldemort that night, Mark cried then. Mark didn't try to stop Lily from being hurt. No, Mark was spoiled and arrogant, living the relaxed life that was meant for the true savior, a life that was supposed to be for Harry.
"Well, can't believe you haven't heard of him, and sorry, I did overhear, dear. Mark Potter saved us all from You-Know-Who exactly eleven years ago. Too bad, it has gone to waste," Madam Malkins said while recording Harry's measurements from the tape measure.
"Excuse me, but gone to waste, ma'am?" Harry asked slightly confused, "Didn't the Dark Lord die?"
"Good heavens, you don't even know? He came back over three years ago!" Madam Malkins said, " The attacks aren't too often and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was too pre-occupied with Ireland than to worry about England right now."
Surprised at this news, Harry wondered how the light side of the wizarding world would fare, Harry never once included himself in his thoughts.
"Excuse me sir? Your clothes are done," Madam Malkins announced and led Harry to a small desk. Harry pulled out a few galleons and left the store.
Leaving all thoughts of Mark and the state of the wizarding world behind him, Harry headed towards his next stop, Ollivanders.
Harry stepped into the dusty store, lined with wands. Harry called out a few times and a short man stepped out.
"Hmmm I never met you before, your name?" the small man asked.
"I'm Harry, Harry Preston. Mr. Ollivanders?" Harry asked.
"Yes, yes indeed. Though you do look like Harry, yes, something like his father I suppose." Mr. Ollivanders murmured looking through shelves full of wands and pull out a rather long one,"13 inches, yew, made from a dragon heartstring. Give it a wave now"
Harry pulled out the wand out of the box and waved it, though it seemed nothing had happened but Ollivanders snatched it out of Harry's hand faster than you could say 'Quidditch.'
"Hmm, maybe this one. 10 inches, maple, it's made from a hair of a veela," Mr. Ollivander said, handing the wand to Harry.
This time, before Harry could even wave the wand, Ollivanders had regained possession of the wand and started looking for another.
Harry tried wands of all sorts and sizes before Mr. Ollivanders started muttering to himself fast, "oddly enough, no…very odd. How strange. How strange indeed."
Mr. Ollivander was staring oddly at a black wand, "11 Inches, Holly. Phoenix Feather. Nice and supple."
Harry waved it around a few times and a spray of silver and red sparkles shot out of the wand.
"Mr. Harry Po-, I mean you looked very much like a boy I once met. Too bad he's passed on. This wand, Harry. This wand, I thought was mean for another boy but he left just today with another. Hmmm how curious…how curious indeed," Ollivander said, looking at Harry intently.
Uncomfortable under the view and with curiosity nagging at him, Harry asked, "Excuse me sir, but what is odd?"
"The phoenix of which this wands' feather is from gave another feather, just one other and the wizard who received the other wand was none other than You-Know-Who himself," Ollivanders said intently, "You are to be very powerful Harry, very powerful indeed, though be wary of your course of life."
Harry paid his 12 galleons for the wand and left to buy some potions at the apothecary. Bumping into a tall unpleasant man inside the apothecary, Harry quickly excused himself though the man sneered, which only furthered to elongate his crooked nose and only slightly emphasizing his dark, oily hair. Upon seeing Harry, the man pocketed a white mask. Harry was reminded of the people he saw earlier at the Leaky Cauldron and chose to steer clear of this man for a while.
After collecting his items and paying for them Harry continued down the street for books. Harry passed by a few boys, not much younger that himself gazing through a store window at brooms.
Harry caught bits of what they were saying:
"I heard it was the fastest broom ever made, the Nimbus 2001"
"Yeah, I heard that one of them would cost a fortune"
"I wish I could have one!"
Moving into an old bookshop near the corner of Diagon Alley and nearing Knockturn Alley, Harry went in to pick up his schoolbooks. Inside, it was hard to distinguish one shelf from another, as they were all filled with a thick nauseating smell of old and rotted eggs. Harry, as quick as he can with dust covering most books, picked out what he needed for school. Though some books in the corner drew him in. Fascinated by; 'Occlumens: The Fast Way To Perfection', 'Curse your friends, near unforgivables' and 'Unsimple spells for the simple person.' Harry only had enough money to buy two books so he chose the book on occlumens and unsimple spells.
Leaving after paying for the books, Harry only had about 10 galleons left and retired to his room at Leaky Cauldron and set off to work on reading 'Occlumens: the fast way to perfection.'
Opening the book Harry began reading and soon found that clearing your head to devoid all thoughts is a feat that's near impossible to do. Though after a while, thoughts started drifting away and it felt so serene and quiet that Harry did not notice the clock sticking eight p.m. and the only thing that pulled Harry away from his peace and serenity was his stomach growling. Heading downstairs, there was a loud explosion and the whole of Leaky Cauldron started shaking. Bits and pieces of debris fell from the ceiling as Harry avoided all of them as easy as avoiding a punch back in the streets.
Rushing downstairs, Harry found the bar to be a mess. Women portkeyed away while men tried to fend off the people wearing the white masks Harry saw earlier. Suffering from wounds, the men even portkeyed away.
"Die Death Eaters!" a fairly young man shouted and uttered a spell but three spells with green light came hurling back at him and he promptly fell over.
Death Eaters? So that's what they were! Harry realising who they were, pulled out his newly bought wand and uttered spells at the Death Eaters in his way to the portkeys near Tom's desk. It wasn't that Harry was at all afraid of the Death Eaters; it was that Harry didn't have an intention of joining the war.
After stupifying another two Death Eaters, Harry made his way over to the desk ready to leave though trouble was, there weren't any portkeys left. They were all gone, probably snatched up either by Death Eaters to prevent escape or by scared victims who took more than one portkey to ensure their own safety.
Harry then tried apparating away though that didn't work, seeing as there was a field around him had an anti-apparating charm, also since Harry only ever read about apparating and never tried it before.
Hit wizards appeared through the muggle worlds' door to the Leaky Cauldron as they couldn't apparate through the shield to Diagon Alley.
"Expelliarmus," Harry yelled disarming another Death Eater, who now was seeking his wand out.
Harry rushed out of the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley and found the same scene he witnessed in the Leaky Cauldron was occuring here too. Running up the streets, Harry had to use the only few spells he knew to rid him of the Death Eaters. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw James fighting off a Death Eater though one was sneaking up behind him, wand poised.
"Stupefy," Harry shouted, wand aimed at the Death Eater. James looked at the now unconscious Death Eater and then at Harry and gave him the thumbs up. James rushed further down, in the opposite direction of Harry. Harry spent only a few seconds wondering how thick James was, as James should have worried a bit more about leaving a student in a middle of a battlefield.
Harry suspected that oh so precious Mark would probably have already left the site. Still searching for an exit, Harry viewed a large skull with a snake producing from its mouth in the night sky. It was so blantantly obvious of its presence as it was glowing green. A pop sounded behind him. 'Imposible' Harry thought 'you can't apparate anymore.'
Turning around him, Harry once again faced the glowing red amber eyes of Voldemort.
Grinning, Voldemort said, "Harry, how nice to see you again. Harry Potter."
A/N: You know you wanna review. I know you do.