The Hatred Within
AN: This story follows Iris Potter, the girl who lived, as she enters the magical world for the first time. All eyes are on her and many influential people already have plans for her, but she will carve a path of her own. However, will she be able to overcome her past and move past the inner hatred she harbours from her abusive upbringing? Will it be light or darkness she chooses in the end?
Warning: This story will contain lots of mature themes and situations, such as gore (definitely) and sex (probably). If you don't like to read things like these, then this story is not for you.
Some of the first few chapters will be very similar to the corresponding chapters in the Philosopher's Stone. However, things will get more and more different to canon the older Iris gets.
Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 1 – A New Hope
Iris Potter shivered slightly under her thin ragged blanket as she tried to find a more comfortable position on the floor of the hut on the rock Uncle Vernon had rowed them to earlier that day. The lighted dial of Dudley's wristwatch told her that she'd turn eleven in just ten minutes' time.
This would no doubt be her worst birthday ever, Iris thought gloomily. Not only was she going to start it by lying on the floor of a freezing cold hut, extremely hungry, somewhere out to sea, with a thunderstorm raging on around it, but she would have to deal with the smug look on her Uncle's face when he realised he'd successfully outran whoever had been sending Iris those mysterious letters. The only positive of her current situation was that Dudley was having a miserable time of things too. Although that probably only meant he'd turn to his favourite hobby of using her as a punching bag sooner rather than later.
Iris wondered where the mysterious letter-sender was now. She cursed her own stupidity. If only she had just slid the first letter she received under her cupboard door rather than try to open it in the kitchen, her uncle would have never taken it away and she would know why someone was trying to contact her so desperately.
Not for the first time, Iris contemplated running away – once they were off of this godforsaken rock of course. But would she even be any better off elsewhere? People were all the same, she reasoned. Her classmates all fit into two camps: bullies like Dudley, or cowards who were too afraid to stand up to the bullies. Adults were no better. All of the Dursley's neighbours were just as stuck-up and unlikeable as they were, and none of Iris' teachers cared about anyone other than themselves. If they did, then they would have at least attempted to put a stop to the literal beatings she received from Dudley and his friends whenever they could catch her.
No, she decided, running away would do her absolutely no good either. Unless she tried to live off the streets, surviving by committing petty crimes and evading the police. She imagined the Dursleys trying to explain to their neighbours why someone they raised under their roof was now a common criminal, and the thought at least managed to briefly put a faint smile on her face.
Iris checked Dudley's watch again. Just three minutes until her birthday now. She wondered if the Dursleys even remembered it was her birthday today. They usually gave her a present, if only to mock her. Her best ever present was probably a close contest between a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.
Two minutes now. Iris could hear a strange crunching noise coming from outside the shack. It sounded almost like footsteps, but it was extremely unlikely that anyone else was crazy enough to travel out here during a thunderstorm.
One minute to go until Iris was eleven. She didn't know why she even cared. She doubted this coming year would be any better than the last, or the one before that. Even so, she watched Dudley's watch as the second hand ticked closer and closer to midnight. Five – four – three – two – one –
BOOM.
The entire hut shook and Iris sat bolt upright. Those were footsteps she'd heard. And now someone was knocking – no, pounding to come in.
BOOM.
"Where's the cannon?" Dudley asked stupidly as he jerked awake.
Uncle Vernon skidded loudly into the room behind them. Shockingly, he was aiming a rifle at the door. Iris had never seen a gun in person before.
"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you – I'm armed!"
He was met only with silence, until –
SMASH!
The door had been pounded so hard that it came off its hinges and crashed to the floor, and standing in the doorway was a gigantic man with long black hair and a wild, tangled beard.
The giant man ducked through the now empty doorway, picked up the door, and placed it back into its frame, muffling some of the noise coming from the storm outside. He turned around to look at Iris and the Dursleys.
"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey …"
He walked over to the sofa and looked at Dudley who looked petrified.
"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the giant. Dudley squealed like a pig and ran off to hide behind his parents.
"An' here's Iris!" said the giant, smiling for some reason. "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer mum, eyes an' all."
"You … you knew my mum?" Iris asked quietly. Before the giant man could answer, Uncle Vernon interrupted.
"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!"
"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," the giant reached over and plucked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, tied it in a knot without any apparent effort, and tossed it into the far corner of the room.
Uncle Vernon let out a pathetic frightened noise which amused Iris.
"Anyway – Iris," said the giant, turning back to face her, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat for yeh here – I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."
From a pocket of his giant moleskin coat, he pulled a slightly squashed box. Iris opened it cautiously just to find a large chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Iris written on it in green icing.
Iris had never received a birthday cake before in her life – she'd never even been allowed a slice of Dudley's. She wanted to thank the man, but her feelings of suspicion were far stronger than her ones of gratitude.
"Who are you?" she asked him.
He chuckled, his big black eyes glinting. "True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."
He held out his hand for Iris to shake. She hesitantly took it and got her entire arm shaken by the huge man.
"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his dustbin lid sized hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."
He looked at the room and the empty crisp packets in the grate and snorted. He bent over the fire and a second later, an enormous fire erupted there and the whole shack was bathed in instant warmth.
He sat back on the sofa and started taking various items out of his coat pockets. Iris wondered just how many pockets this coat had. Within a few minutes, the shack was filled with the sound and smell of sizzling sausages as they cooked over the fire. To an extremely hungry Iris, they looked like heaven. Unsurprisingly, Dudley also looked very interested.
"Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon.
The giant chuckled.
"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' any more, Dursley, don' worry."
Instead, he passed the sausages to Iris and she wasted no time before stuffing her face with them. She even sent a smug look over at Dudley who was almost green with envy.
Once her hunger had been dealt with, her curiosity and suspicion were now her overriding feelings, so she looked back up at the giant man. "Please can you explain who you really are."
The giant took one last gulp of tea and wiped his mouth.
"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – yeh'll know all about Hogwarts o' course."
"Sorry, but no," said Iris.
Hagrid looked gobsmacked.
"Sorry? It's them as should be sorry!" he barked, staring at the Dursleys, who cowered further back into the shadows. "I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"
"Learned what?" said Iris, now getting increasingly confused.
"LEARNED WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"
He leapt to his feet and turned to look at the Dursleys.
"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled, "that this girl – knows nothin' abou' – about ANYTHING?"
"Hey!" interrupted Iris. "I'm not stupid! I have better grades than him by far!"
She pointed at Dudley. She was enjoying being able to insult him while he was too afraid to beat her up in retaliation.
Hagrid just waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."
"What world?"
Hagrid looked just about ready to explode.
"DURSLEY!" he boomed.
Uncle Vernon muttered something in fear and Hagrid turned back to look at Iris.
"But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."
"They weren't famous, were they?" Iris asked, "How am I famous?"
"Yeh don' know … yeh don' know …" Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, looking bewildered.
"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.
"Stop!" commanded Uncle Vernon, startling Iris. She had almost forgotten he was there. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the girl anything!"
Hagrid fixed Uncle Vernon with a look of pure fury and spoke in a slow voice filled with rage.
"You never told her? Never told her what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer her? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from her all these years?"
"Kept what from me?" said Iris, desperate to know what all this fuss was about.
"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic while Aunt Petunia let out a horrified gasp.
"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Iris – yer a witch."
"What?" asked Iris incredulously. This wasn't the first time she'd been called a witch. Some classmates at school had called her that as an insult, but Hagrid didn't look like he was insulting her.
"A witch, o' course," said Hagrid, "an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."
Iris eagerly snatched the yellowish envelope from Hagrid. This time it was addressed to Miss I. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. She hastily pulled the letter out and read.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Iris stared at the letter in shock, wondering whether this was some elaborate prank pulled by the Dursleys. But, she reasoned, the Dursleys were not ones who liked to pull pranks, and who would go to these extraordinary lengths just to prank an eleven year old girl?
That deduction meant that somehow, she must indeed be a witch.
Strange incidents which she had been punished for in the past flashed to the forefront of her mind, like when her mean teacher's hair had mysteriously turned blue, or when she'd inadvertently ended up on the school roof whilst running away from Dudley's gang, or recently when she managed to free a snake from the zoo.
It also explained why the Dursleys always blamed her for anything that went wrong, and why they commonly referred to her as a freak. A mix of feelings started bubbling up inside of Iris, but she forced them down and decided to focus on one thing at a time.
"What does it mean, they await my owl?" she asked Hagrid.
"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, casually pulling a live owl out of one pocket and a quill and parchment from another. Iris read his untidy scrawl as he wrote.
Dear Mr Dumbledore,
Given Iris her letter. Taking her to buy her things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.
Hagrid
He then rolled up the parchment, gave it to the owl, then threw the owl into the storm.
Iris was about to ask another question when Uncle Vernon moved back into the light.
"She's not going," he said angrily.
"I'd like to see a great Muggle like you stop her," said Hagrid.
"A what?" asked Iris.
"A Muggle," said Hagrid. "It's what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."
"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch, indeed!"
A cold fury had now taken hold of Iris. She turned to glare at her Aunt and Uncle as hatefully as she could.
"You knew," she said softly. "You knew I was a witch and you were so pathetically jealous that you never told me."
"Jealous!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "No, we don't want to be freaks like you. And of course we knew! Your mother was a freak too! She got a letter just like that too and disappeared off to that school – and came home every holiday with her pockets full of frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw how much of a freak she was! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family! Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as – as – abnormal – and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"
"Blown up?" repeated Iris, in a mixture of shock and anger. "You told me they died in a car crash!"
"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up and forcing the Dursleys to retreat back into their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Iris Potter not knowin' her own story when every kid in our world knows her name!"
"What story? What happened?" asked Iris, more desperate for answers than anything else at the moment.
"I never expected this," said Hagrid anxiously. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Iris, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh – but someone's gotta – yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."
Hagrid threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.
"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh – mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it …"
He sat down and stared into the fire. "It begins, I suppose, with – with a person called – but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows –"
"Who?"
"Well – I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."
"Why not?"
"Gulpin' gargoyles, Iris, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went … bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was …"
Iris stared at him impatiently.
"All right – his name was Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Anyway, this – this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Iris. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches … Terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him – an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.
"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an' Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before … probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.
"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em … maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe'en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' – an' –"
Hagrid pulled out a very dirty handkerchief and blew his nose loudly into it.
"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad – knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find – anyway –
"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even – but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Iris. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."
As Hagrid spoke, an image of a blinding flash of green light filled Iris' mind, and she heard a high, cold, cruel laugh.
"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot …"
"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon, glaring at Hagrid with his fists clenched.
"Now, you listen here, girl" he snarled. "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured – and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion – asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types – just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end –"
Iris jumped to her feet, anger coursing through her veins, ready to attack her much larger uncle. However, Hagrid had leapt to his feet too, and was advancing on Uncle Vernon menacingly, holding a pink umbrella out in front of him like a sword.
"I'm warning you, Dursley – I'm warning you – one more word …"
Uncle Vernon glared back but clearly couldn't summon the courage to say anything else. Iris forced herself to calm down. There were still more questions she wanted to ask.
"What happened to Voldemort?" she asked, causing Hagrid to flinch.
"Good question, Iris. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see … he was getting' more an' more powerful – why'd he go?
"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.
"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Iris. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."
Iris took a moment to mull over all the information that had been dumped on her since Hagrid had smashed down the front door of the shack. One thing stood out to her above all others, though. She was a witch. She'd always been treated as though she was inferior to the Dursleys and everyone else, when really, the opposite was true. They felt so jealous and threatened that they kept the truth from her, locked her in a cupboard, underfed her, and allowed their son to beat her up. But now she knew. Anger was rising steadily inside of her. However, what Iris needed more than anything was to put the Dursleys firmly behind her. Now she was a witch, she could finally leave them for good.
"When are we leaving?" asked Iris eagerly.
"We'll head off in the morning," smiled Hagrid. "Gotta go buy your stuff for Hogwarts."
"Haven't I told you she's not going?" hissed Uncle Vernon. "She's going to Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and she needs all sorts of rubbish – spell books and wands and –"
"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop her," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Her name's been down ever since she was born. She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and she won't know herself. She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled–"
"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.
Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head. "NEVER – INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!"
He brought the umbrella down through the air to point at Dudley and a loud bang sounded. Dudley squealed and started dancing around with his hands clasped around his fat backside. When he turned away from them, Iris saw a pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. She couldn't help but grin widely.
Uncle Vernon was less pleased. With a roar, he pulled Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the next room and slammed the door.
"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," said Hagrid, stroking his beard, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do."
Iris couldn't help it anymore; she burst out laughing. Hagrid smiled down at her.
"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm – er – not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff – one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job –"
"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Iris.
"Oh, well – I was at Hogwarts meself but I – er – got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."
"What did you do to get expelled?" Iris asked curiously.
"It's getting' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. He took off his large coat and threw it to Iris.
"You can kip under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."
Iris decided it was best to drop the topic and curled up under the enormous coat, which was a lot warmer than the thin blanket she had been using before Hagrid had arrived.
Soon, the shack was filled with the rumbling of Hagrid's snoring, louder even than the storm outside. Iris didn't care one bit, though. She had been wrong earlier. This wouldn't be her worst birthday ever; in fact Iris was pretty certain it was already her best.