Disclaimer: I do not, in fact, own Harry Potter or One Piece.

Chapter 1: The Spark

One thousand years ago, the world was a savage, lawless place.

Men and women butchered each other with primitive weapons to gain dominion over that which they claimed as their own. Those of little martial skill pledged themselves to self-proclaimed "kings" for protection – paying tithe in the hope that they could find a more peaceful life. As if that could stop the wheel of fate from turning.

Kingdoms rose and fell as quickly as the seasons could change. Knowledge was jealously guarded, only to be lost forever when its holders met their unexpected end. The world kept spinning, but civilization had been at a standstill for hundreds of years.

It was a hopeless existence, and yet, humanity cannot help but to hope all the same.

Hope for salvation; hope for tomorrow; hope for an existence that merited more than simply surviving… Hope for the power to make a change.

That hope permeated the human spirit – and thus, Haki was born.

Haki is a power that lies dormant in those with the will to unlock it... "Presence" and "fighting spirit"... It is the manifestation of an individual's willpower, made into tangible power.

Those with powerful enough spirits dominated each other, beginning the cycle anew. As is the nature of humans, they began fighting once more, only now they were armed with even greater weapons. With a sixth sense that came to be referred to as "Kenbunshoku" and weapons covered in a rippling black armor by the phenomenon known as "Busoshoku," it seemed that little would change in the grand scheme of things.

That is, until the Four Conquerors made themselves known and brought the world to its knees. Though they would later become better known as the Four Founders, the Conquerors were born with exceptionally strong spirits and unlocked a new form of Haki – "Haoshoku," or domination. And dominate they did.

Godric Gryffindor, wielder of the Black Blade, Yoru. With a physical strength unmatched by any who had come before, each swing of his sword gave off rippling black lightning that could split the sky.

Helga Hufflepuff, creator of the fabled Six Powers. Said to be able to move at supersonic speeds, harden her muscles like iron, and give off shockwaves powerful enough to decimate an enemy's internal organs, she was unpredictably dangerous.

Rowena Ravenclaw, known as the All-Seeing. Having honed her Kenbunshoku Haki to such an incredible degree, she was said to fight entire battles without opening her eyes once, dodging and weaving as if she knew where an attack would come from before it had even been launched.

And Salazar Slytherin, the first human to consume a Fruit of the Devil. At the age of 11, Salazar happened upon a mysterious fruit that granted him unimaginable power – the Hebi Hebi no Mi, Model: Yamata No Orochi. On the battlefield, he was said to be nearly impossible to face one-on-one, although eight-on-one might be a more accurate representation.

To this day, no one quite knows how the Fruits of the Devil were created, though there have been countless theories. Were they truly created by a Devil, intent on bestowing powers of the Underworld to humans? Truly, a question that may never be answered.

Regardless, the Conquerors were singlehandedly responsible for lighting the spark of civilization that we live in today. They remade the world in their image, creating institutions that survived long past their deaths – for a thousand years. The greatest of their creations, you might suspect, is known as Hogwarts.

Initially created to be a haven for those with uncontrollable powers like their own, it eventually morphed into a sanctuary for knowledge. There, students could learn to control their Haki, and the arcane powers borne by eating the Fruits of the Devil, or as they later came to be colloquially known as, "Devil Fruits."

For many years, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin gladly spread knowledge amongst their students. The blood-soaked warriors that had conquered those who dared stand before them, faded into black, as the Four Founders settled into peaceful lives and shaped the next generation.

However, peace could not last forever, as tensions eventually arose between Salazar and Godric. Though they had purposely settled into more a more peaceful existence, the war drums still beat particularly loudly in Salazar's chest, his blood running as hot as the day he had established himself as a Conqueror. Though those with powers were obviously the dominant species on Earth, he still wished to establish that supremacy at a more visible level.

Salazar Slytherin did not see non-users of Haki as human. Therefore, he felt it his right to take them as slaves, to brand them with the eight-headed mythical snake that solidified his superiority over them.

When word inevitably got back to the other three Founders, they immediately acted, storming Salazar's manor. A terrible battle began, the likes of which was incomprehensibly catastrophic.

Magma spewed from the earth, lightning was pulled from the sky, and world trembled with the immeasurable weight of Haoshoku Haki. Matched equally, Godric and Salazar ultimately raged against each other for three days.

They fought a duel unlike any that had been seen before. And, at the end, Salazar fell to the ground, defeated, with seven of his eight heads having been shorn off by Yoru's immeasurably sharp edge.

However, Godric caught him before he could hit the ground, pulling him into one last hug. Cradling his former best friend, tears fell silently, mixing with the blood pooling below Salazar's body, as both remembered the time that they had spent together in this life, be it good or bad.

"We accomplished greatness, my friend." Godric sobbed. "None of this would have been possible without you."

"Promise me that our dream will live on, Godric." Salazar rasped, as his life rapidly slipped away.

"Always."

And, for 900 years, the dream of the Four Conquerors – the Four Founders – lived on.

That is, until our Supreme Ruler was born, for he ripped the world down and built his Kingdom anew.

-Bathilda Bagshot, What Came Before

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In retrospect, it may have been a bad idea to eat the strange-looking pineapple that I found on the kitchen counter as I cooked breakfast. But alas, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon fed me little enough already that I'd eat just about anything that I could squirrel away before it inevitably made its way to the bottomless hole that was Dudley's stomach.

Planning to sneak just a small bite before slicing and serving it up, I popped a piece into my mouth and immediately gagged. Unable to even throw it up for some reason, I forced myself to swallow what could best be described as solidified dumpster juice that'd been roasting in the sun for a few years.

How long had that pineapple been sitting there? Yes, it was a little odd-looking with overlapping swirl patterns that formed sharp, jagged growths all over – but nothing on planet Earth should have tasted that awful. I can't imagine that Aunt Petunia would have ever even considered buying something that didn't appear completely and 100% normal.

She wasn't exactly the biggest fan of anything that broke the status quo.

Knowing that I'd more than likely be knocked around by Uncle Vernon for even considering serving it to the rest of the family, I threw it in the garbage – settling on grapes and strawberries instead. As I carefully laid sausage links into a pan, a loud series of thumps approached the kitchen, and my aunt, uncle and cousin made themselves known.

"Still not finished, boy?" Uncle Vernon groused. "I wish I could say that I expected differently, but that would be a load of crock."

"Sorry Uncle Vernon." I muttered as I lifted the pan, deftly dodging a punch aimed by Dudley.

Serving my uncle and cousin, who attacked the food with a ferocity, and my aunt, who accepted the meal with an indignant sniff, I retreated to the sink, intent on doing the dishes before escaping to the relative safety of my cupboard.

As I scrubbed under the hot water, I reflected on my 10 years of life with my relatives.

I really didn't look anything like them, outside of a few basic features that I shared with Aunt Petunia, being quite thin and lithe with midnight black hair. Honestly, not resembling them was probably a blessing, considering that Uncle Vernon and Dudley wouldn't look out of place swimming with a pod of whales (though I wasn't totally sure they could even float).

Instead, my messy black hair and lean figure was paired nicely with emerald-green eyes, framed in round, taped-up glasses. One time, a sweet older woman told me I'd grow up to be such a handsome young man, so I've been banking on that coming true ever since.

Going back to my relatives, Uncle Vernon loved nothing more than his very important managerial position at a weapons contractor to the World Government. Whenever anyone made the mistake of asking about his career, they'd be treated to 15 minutes of exposition about his role in spearheading the Blades Division within his company.

From what I understood, practically every single infantryman in the Western European division of the Aurors carried a Grunnings-made weapon.

Uncle Vernon made quite a bit of money, and wasn't at all afraid to flaunt that fact, being that we lived in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Surrey.

Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, was a typical housewife. Not that she actually did any of the cooking or cleaning associated with that role, but she had the part about gossiping with other housewives impressively handled.

For being my mother's sister, she really, really didn't like being asked about my parents, almost ripping my arm out of its socket the last time I asked about her. From the little that she would tell me, my parents were drunks that got themselves killed by crossing the wrong people, and it was only due to her and Uncle Vernon's goodwill that I had any quality of life today.

I desperately hoped that wasn't the case, but I didn't have much to go on.

And finally, Dudley was my very own personal tormentor. Whether he beat me up for doing better than him in school (which wasn't particularly hard) or just for existing in general, we didn't exactly have the healthiest relationship.

Either way, I had long ago accepted the fact that I would never be part of their family, much as it hurt to do. Was this a bit of a mature concept for a kid my age? Probably, but I had grown up faster than most.

Besides, there were plenty of opportunities out there for someone that was as driven as I considered myself to be!

For example, to join the Aurors was considered a noble calling, as well as a great way to travel anywhere in the world. I could go in as a Recruit and work my way up to become a Landed Captain of my own base, defending those who couldn't stand up for themselves and hunting down criminals that needed to be brought in.

Of course, most Recruits were destined for a life as a Petty Officer at most, but there were some notable exceptions. Vice-Admiral Tonks, for example, was apparently born to commoners like my own family, but became so powerful that he was accepted into Hogwarts by the time that he was 11 years old. From what I read in a newspaper one time (before Uncle Vernon claimed it from me) he even married into an influential family and was raised to nobility as a result.

It actually wasn't at all rare to see Aurors patrolling Surrey, what with how nice the area was, but I hadn't gotten the chance to interact with them much. However, from what I understood, they were always looking for new recruits – though they didn't typically accept anyone under 16 unless they were special(?).

I wasn't special. That much I knew for certain.

Frowning, I turned off the water and made to leave the kitchen, planning on returning to my original plan of hiding out in my cupboard.

Just as I slipped into the hallway, I was cornered by Dudley. Great.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" He sneered, his multiple chins flapping with every word.

How could I disengage without taking a beating? "Just back to my cupboard. I don't want to be in your way for too long."

"That's the problem, you're already in my way." Dudley replied, cracking his knuckles.

I sighed internally, knowing what was coming and having no way to stop it. Putting up my hands, I screwed my eyes shut. Hopefully he'd quickly get bored of beating up a target that wouldn't fight back like most others did.

Expecting a haymaker to the body, I tensed myself, but the pain never came. Instead, I felt a tickling sensation in my chest.

Opening my eyes, I looked down – only to see Dudley's fist embedded halfway through my oddly-sparking sternum!?

We both looked up and locked eyes in horror.

He screamed.

I screamed louder.

There was a sharp crackling sound, and the air smelt like ozone. For one second, time seemed to slow down, before Dudley was blasted away from me with a bang!

He shot down the hallway like a rocket, slamming into the door, before falling to the ground in a smoking, groaning heap. I could do nothing but watch in absolute shock at the unexplainable event that I was the impetus for.

What the hell was that? It's not like there were any carpets in the hallway for me to build up static electricity with. Even if there were, I didn't think you could be shocked that badly.

"Dudders!" I heard a scream, right before I was tossed to the side like a ragdoll – weirdly enough not shocking Aunt Petunia. Thankfully, that put me out of the way of Uncle Vernon, who came charging down the hall like a raging bull.

Aunt Petunia was quickly becoming hysterical as she threw herself over her son. "Do something Vernon! Lily's devil spawn nearly killed my sweet boy!"

Lily? Was that my mother's name? Filing that information into the "Figure Out Later, Don't Be Strangled Now" folder in my brain, I began rapidly scrambling back from my uncle, who was rapidly turning beet-red.

There was a sudden pain in my forehead, but I pushed that to the side for the moment.

"I take you into my house." His chest heaved madly. "AND YOU TRY TO KILL MY OWN SON!?"

"P-please Uncle Vernon, I don't know what that was either!"

However, Uncle Vernon was far beyond reasoning. He reached into his golf bag, which was not-so-conveniently-for-me placed near the door and ripped out his driver, clearly intent on beating me to death with it.

I had survived more than my share of beatings from Dudley. But from Uncle Vernon, armed with a heavy metal club? I didn't like my chances.

My forehead pulsed with pain once again, making me see double, so there were suddenly two enormous men bearing down on me. Was this a side effect of being shocked?

'This is it.' I thought to myself. 'I'm really going to die here.'

I'd never become an Auror. I'd never figure out why my body turned into electricity for a moment. Hell, I wouldn't even see the sun rise tomorrow.

Uncle Vernon hefted the golf club, before swinging back and winding up. I was petrified with primal fear, facing down something that would kill me without hesitation.

My forehead pulsed for a third time, feeling like something was straining to break free. Unable to hold it back any longer, I simply let go with a scream. A wave of something erupted from my body, washing over Uncle Vernon as he swung down the golf club, over Aunt Petunia as she shouted bloody murder, and over Dudley as he began to stir.

And then there was silence. No one made a sound, aside from my own adrenaline-fueled heartbeat.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Uncle Vernon's eyes rolled up into his head and he crashed into the floor. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed shortly after, collapsing on top of each other in a dead faint.

What. The. Hell.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I got myself under control and moved away from my family. Taking care not to make any sudden movements, I slowly crept around their unconscious forms and slipped into my cupboard. Something told me that I should be gone by the time that they woke up, as most don't look favorably on being knocked unconscious – twice in Dudley's case.

I gathered up my meager belongings and rushed to the door. Honestly, I had no idea where to go, but it would need to be far away from here.

Ripping open the door, I was met with my third, and hopefully final surprise of the day.

A man, tall and handsome with pale skin, black hair, and dark eyes that burned with cold fire. He had high, aristocratic cheekbones and a smile that played lazily on his lips. Dressed in expensive black slacks and a white button-down shirt, he also wore a pitch-black coat draped over his shoulders.

"Hello Mr. Potter." He spoke in a friendly tone. "It seems you've found yourself in quite the situation."

How was I going to explain this? "I promise I have no idea what's going on! My cousin's fist went into my chest, and he flew across the room and-and my uncle almost killed me for it, but then he fainted-."

"Breathe Harry, breathe." The man cut me off.

I took a breath, trying to calm myself.

"Better?"

I nodded.

"Rest assured, I'm not here to arrest you. Situations like these are quite common for Haki users that have been raised by Muggles." His eyes focused on the crumpled forms behind me. "Though you certainly don't see a Conqueror who's eaten a Logia every day."

I lost track of the strange man's explanation from the moment that he said the word "Haki." What was that? And what did the words "Muggle" and "Logia" mean?

Deciding to shelve those questions for the moment, I instead asked the most burning one. "Who are you?"

"I apologize, I must have forgotten to introduce myself in all the excitement." The man laughed good-naturedly before answering. "I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. Former Chief Admiral of the Aurors, part-time Commander of the Death Eaters, and most importantly, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School for The Gifted and Powerful."

My eyes widened. I had no clue who the Death Eaters were, but you'd have to be raised by wolves not to know about the Aurors and Hogwarts.

Tom Riddle smiled at my revelation before continuing. "And I've come to offer you a place at the school, Mr. Potter, where you shall learn to harness that power that lives inside of you."

XXXXX

Pretty cool right! Please let me know what you thought of Chapter 1, whether it's good or bad (hopefully good).

The inspiration for this story comes directly from a challenge created by an author named Umodin on this site (check him out, he has some great stories). He laid a lot of good frameworks, some of which I've used and some of which I went in my own direction with.

Just to clear up any confusion, the "magical" and regular worlds are NOT separated in this story. Think of the Muggle world like the Four Blues in One Piece, where they obviously know that the Marines exist, as well as some phenomenon, but will likely never see much of that in their lives. I'll be blending other themes and ideas from the two stories going forward.

Anyway, I appreciate the read and am looking forward to getting the next chapter out soon!