Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, this is pure fanfiction, I don't make a penny on this.
English is not my first language, so apologies for that.
November, 1993.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, located in Scotland hills, was the best school of magic in Europe. Magnificent castle, Britain's best professors and complete safety from any kind of dangers. LIES.
Hogwarts wasn't safe, not by a long shot, mostly because of its many dark and not so much secrets. One of those was fifteen years old Slytherin student, standing alone amidst the shadows of third floor corridor looking through the glass of the moisty widows. His own reflection was in front of him, raven colour hair accurately put into an undercut style, broad shoulders, higher than average frame and almost invisible but somewhat unique lightning shape scar over his brown. But none of those features were more noticeable than his eyes, his mother's violet eyes. Those eyes were looked in with awe by his friends, and terror by his enemies.
July, 1982.
"Again. He's beaten me again"
Laying down on a dirty mattress ion cupboard under the stairs was beaten and literally broken four years old Harry Potter, rewriting again and again the actions that led him into this state of piece of broken mess. He accidentally let a cup of tea slip by his little finger on Vernon's legs, any other day of the week he would've been punished, stripped of food and water and put under the lock for a week. This time it was different, something came on man-whale, probably two bottle of whiskey he drunk an hour ago, without warning of shouting Harry's uncle jumped up and started to beat the shite out of the little kid, turning nephew's face into a bloody pulp and broke underdeveloped bones. He didn't stop until poor kid halfdead, barely breathing with more broken than whole bones.
He wasn't thinking straight or about any kind of consequences, so with no remorse man-swine pulled the little one by the leg and violently throw him inside the cupboard closing the door. Neither Petunia nor Dudley dared to tell their head of the family a word, only standing there with sheepish faces and scared eyes.
"To bed! Now!", no argument was heard and the three has gone to sleep, without even looking at the cupboard.
Half-conscious, bloody, with broken bones lying there and dying his last thoughts "I hate You. Hate all of you. I want you dead!". Ether his words was heard or maybe destiny decided it had enough, but Harry heard a loud BANG. The entrance door was blown to pieces, standing there were two tall figures in black robes and surrounded by shadows. Without a single word they separated, the taller one ascended the stairs, the other one started to lurk into the kitchen and dining room, rummaging through family's belongings and checking every nook and cranny in search of something or someone. Little weeping took her out of her process, seconds later tall woman was standing front of an open cupboard door, frozen in place. Beneath her gaze was a four-year-old kid, all bloody, with limbs twisted in unnormal ways, descending on one knee she put her hand on boy's body and started uttering some words, that were unknown to Harry, but after few seconds every part were woman's hand touched was healed, blood vanished, bones mended and scars healed, all except the one on his forehead. The woman tried to healed it too, but the kid moaned and tried to stop her. Looking at her with half opened eyes, Harry noticed her curly black hair, pale skin so refined that it looked almost unreal, the most beautiful thing about the woman was her eyes, violet full of grief and despair, also rage and malice but not for the boy, but for those animals who did this to him.
"Shhh," softly said violet-eyes-woman, patting his chick with a motherly care, "They're not goanna hurt you anymore" A massive hand dropped on her shoulder signalling that it's time to go. Wasting no more time, the tall woman took Harry on her arms and started to work her way through the corridor, into the broken doorway and out of the damned house, the man followed. After a dozen or so feet violet-eyes-woman turned her head, wide maniacal eyes spoke to the man without a single word "Do IT!", turning her head to a boy in her arms, woman's eyes were again caring and somewhat moist, the violet—eyed witch apparated away in loud crack. Waiting for a few minutes, and making sure no one was present into a nearby vicinity, the man turned to face the house on number 4 Privet Drive, "How far have you fallen" in disgust and low voice, looking somewhere to the skies said the man. Reaching out his hand with an open palm, two words were said "Pestis Incendium", giant flame raven materialized from a thin air, and smashed itself into the house. The only things that Little Whinging heard, were screams from the Dursley family house.
November, 1994.
Teenager's thought was interrupted by a loud woman's scream and even louder bang. Acting on his instincts student rushed to sound, no thinking and hesitation, upon arrival to the place where screams were heard he immediately regreted his rushed decision, "Bloody hell" cursed the boy under his breath. It was a troll, adult mountain troll.
Screams again. This time the slytherin noticed a bushy-haired head looking out from one of the half-destroyed bathroom stalls. This was it, no more hesitation, the boy sent two wordless Reductors at a troll head, it was useless of course as mountain brutes were extremely resistant to almost any kind of spells, only the strongest and most devastating curses could hope to penetrate their magical hide. He knew it, and set other two again followed by an overpowered blinding curse, this was just a distraction, the nest moment he extended his hand and bushy-hair girl was pulled to him, right in his extended arm. She watched as troll was left behind, turning her head she saw a young handsome boy starring on her with cold calculated eyes. Hazel met violet, and for a moment time has stopped as they stared at each other, their interaction was broken up by a sudden swing of a massive troll club. Boy's reaction was on time, his shield however was not, as it shattered as soon as brute's weapon reached it. The shockwave from the blast was so great that troll was pushed sever feet away, and a student couple were put firmly to the ground, seconds later the boy opened his eyes with a frustrating groan, "Fucking hell, I need to work on my shields…" his thought were interrupted by a troll who was already stumbling in their direction to finish the job, the girl was out cold so he used a weak wandless banisher to send her to safety, and was successful but troll was near and ready to kill him. Boy knew, there's only one sure way to put this piece of dung down, so he remembered all of his times at Dursley's, all the times he was beaten half-dead, every painful word they used to call him, and his desire to kill them, to murder them. All of his memories fused in a mix of hatred and rage, he channelled it into his intent, the one he was so intimately accustomed with. Swiftly rising to his feet and outstretching the arm, the violet-eyed-slytherin roared two words: "Avada Kedavra!".
Ear-piercing 'scream' and a flash of sickly pale light, troll was dead laying on the third-floor girls bathroom floor. The boy stumbled on his knees, feeling the unimaginable 'burning' of his right arm, he threw a glance on girl laying on the floor by the entrance, still unconscious. He had to act fast, a movement of his left hand, his wand was pulled in it. Few extremely difficult steps he pointed his weapon at a troll face and fired an overpowered perforation curse, the invisible drill made a massive hole in the beast head, it's a good thing that mountain trolls hide and skin lose all their ant magical purposes after the death.
Loudly exhaling, he looked at the girl, she was regaining consciousness so he walked to her. She opened her eyes feeling a someone's fingers on her bruised cheek and violet eyes looking at her with kindness, cold from before vanished as it was never there. "Shhh, he's not goanna hurt you anymore", softly said black haired boy caressing her cheek.
She tried to stend up, but failed, "Who are you?", she asked still dizzy and weak. The boy, never stopping to caress her face answered, with a kind smile, "My name's Corvus. Corvus Lestrange".
AN1. Harry is two years older in this fic
AN2. Bellatrix had dark/black eyes, but I like violet color more