The sun hung high in the cloudless sky over Privet Drive, casting a merciless glare upon the neatly trimmed lawns and cookie-cutter houses that lined the suburban street. It was a seemingly ordinary day in the ordinary world, but behind the immaculate façade of Number 4, something far from ordinary was transpiring.
In the smallest bedroom at the top of the stairs, a thin figure lay sprawled across a narrow, squeaky bed. His untidy black hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his emerald green eyes were fixed on the cracked, white ceiling. Harry Potter, at almost Eight years old, looked nothing like the hero he would soon become. He was, in every way, a boy who had been molded by years of neglect and mistreatment.
From downstairs, the muffled sounds of the Dursleys could be heard. Vernon, the large, mustachioed uncle, bellowed something about his bacon being overcooked. Petunia, the bony and shrill aunt, clucked disapprovingly. And Dudley, the beefy, pig-tailed cousin, laughed like a hyena in response.
Harry's stomach growled, a harsh reminder that he hadn't had anything to eat since the day before. His aunt and uncle had made sure of that, using hunger as a particularly cruel form of punishment.
As the cacophony below reached its peak, the door to Harry's room creaked open, and a portly face framed by wire-rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway. It was his cousin, Dudley, who had come to torment him once again.
"Hey, freak," Dudley sneered, his beady eyes filled with malice as he strutted into the room.
Harry turned his head slightly to acknowledge Dudley's presence, but he didn't respond. He had learned long ago that any reaction only fueled Dudley's sadistic enjoyment.
Dudley's large, meaty hand reached out and snatched the few crumpled pages of Harry's favorite comic book from the nightstand. "Look what I found, Harry!" he taunted. "Your precious little comic book. What a loser!"
Harry clenched his fists at his sides, but he still refused to give Dudley the satisfaction of a reaction.
"What's the matter, Harry? Cat got your tongue?" Dudley continued, flipping through the pages of the comic with a malicious grin. "Oh, look! It's got pictures! Maybe you can finally learn to read!"
At that, Harry couldn't help but respond, his voice filled with bitterness. "At least I can read, Dudley. Unlike you."
Dudley's face turned an angry shade of red. He threw the comic book at Harry's face, hitting him square in the nose. "Shut up, you freak!"
Harry winced at the impact but didn't cry out. He knew that showing weakness only made things worse.
Suddenly there was a loud bang and Petunia called out,
"You idiot boy, Dudley throw him down the stairs" screamed Petunia
"Oh, You've had it this time" said Dudley giggling
Harry watched Dudley's retreating back, his small frame trembling with anger and frustration. He couldn't understand why his aunt, uncle, and cousin treated him so cruelly. All he had ever wanted was a family, a place where he belonged, but instead, he was trapped in this never-ending nightmare.
As Dudley's footsteps receded, Harry's thoughts drifted to the upcoming school year. He knew he was different, that strange things happened around him. Unexplained occurrences that left him feeling like a freak, just as Dudley liked to call him.
But before he could dream further Dudley came back into the room and suddenly grabbed Harry's legs!
"Wha?" *thump* before Harry could even recover from having his head hit the floor, Dudley was already dragging him towards the stairs. "Dudley, stop, please" she didn't mean it please stop"
"Dudley, stop, please! She wasn't serious! please" Harry's voice trembled with fear as he desperately clung to the doorframe.
But Dudley paid no heed to his pleas. With a sadistic grin plastered on his face, he heaved Harry's frail body off the ground and began to drag him towards the staircase. Each step was a battle, as Harry's fingers scraped uselessly against the wooden floor.
"Please, Dudley, don't do this!" Harry begged, tears streaming down his face.
But Dudley was relentless, fueled by the encouragement of his parents' cruelty. He reached the top of the stairs and, with all his might, hurled Harry down the flight of stairs.
Harry's small frame tumbled helplessly, his body colliding with the hard, unforgiving steps. Pain coursed through him as he somersaulted downwards, each impact more brutal than the last. His vision blurred, and he felt a searing ache in his side as he finally crashed to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.
Vernon's booming voice echoed through the house. "What have you done now boy?"
Dudley, looking more delighted than ever, pointed down the stairs at the crumpled form of Harry. "He tripped, Dad! I swear!"
Petunia appeared at the top of the staircase, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene. "You clumsy, Harry! Always causing trouble."
Harry lay at the foot of the stairs, gasping for breath and trying to push through the agony that wracked his body. He groaned and pushed himself up, ignoring the blood dripping from his forehead.
"Clean it up boy, I won't have you making my floors dirty " said Vernon and walked back to the living room. He felt dizzy and nauseous, but he forced himself to stand up. He staggered towards the kitchen, to clean is wound. He reached the doorway and leaned against the wall. He felt a wave of darkness wash over him, and he realized he was about to faint. He tried to call for help, but no sound came out of his mouth. He slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor.
He was in a dark place scratch that it was completely black.
In the darkness, Harry felt a strange sense of weightlessness. It was as if he was floating in a void, disconnected from the world around him. Panic and confusion welled up inside him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
As he drifted in this formless abyss, a faint, ethereal light began to flicker in the distance. It called to him, offering a glimmer of hope in the midst of the darkness. Harry, drawn by the light, began to move towards it, his sense of fear gradually giving way to curiosity.
The light grew brighter, revealing itself to be a radiant figure bathed in a warm, golden glow. It was a woman, But suddenly the woman turned and vanished into smoke and transformed into a sinister crimson hue, and her comforting voice turned cold and enticing.
"Harry," the voice hissed, "You are meant for greatness, and I can offer you power beyond your wildest dreams."
Harry's heart raced, confusion clouding his mind. He didn't understand who this person was or what they were talking about. The offer of power was alluring, but it was also shrouded in mystery.
"I… I don't know who you are," Harry stammered, his voice trembling. "I don't understand what you mean."
The figure, still cloaked in darkness, stepped closer, its presence looming over Harry. "You don't need to know, Harry. Just trust me, and all your pain will be forgotten. Embrace this opportunity, and you will become someone extraordinary."
Harry's thoughts raced as he struggled to make sense of the situation. He felt an overwhelming desire to escape the misery of his life on Privet Drive, but he also sensed that accepting this offer came with an unknown price.
With uncertainty in his heart, Harry nodded hesitantly. "Alright, I'll trust you. If it means I can be great, then I accept."
"You will be more Harry. You will become the most powerful being alive.
As Harry's voice wavered with a mixture of fear and anticipation, the crimson mist began to swirl and coalesce, forming intricate patterns that danced in the darkness. A sense of foreboding gripped him, but the allure of escaping his tormentors was too strong to resist.
The mist enveloped Harry, wrapping around him like a comforting, yet suffocating shroud. He felt his body being lifted from the void, transported to a place that was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Time and space seemed to blur as he was carried through a surreal landscape, an otherworldly journey that left him both exhilarated and terrified.
When the mist finally released him, Harry found himself standing in a place that defied all logic and reason. It was a realm of shimmering ethereal colors, with swirling energies that pulsed and throbbed like a living heartbeat. Above him, a sky of ever-changing hues stretched endlessly, and below him, the ground seemed to shift and ripple as if it had a mind of its own.
The enigmatic figure that had beckoned him now materialized before him, her form a complex blend of light and shadow. Her voice, once cold and enticing, now echoed with a commanding presence.
"Welcome, Harry, to a world of limitless possibilities," it intoned. "Here, you will find the power you seek, the strength to rise above the darkness that has plagued your life."
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he took in the surreal surroundings. He couldn't deny the thrill of being in a place where the rules of the ordinary world no longer applied. But he also couldn't shake the feeling that he had stepped into something far more profound and dangerous than he had ever imagined.
"What is this place?" Harry asked, his voice quivering.
The figure smiled, though his smile held a touch of something unsettling. "This is a realm beyond the boundaries of reality, a place where magic and mystery converge. It is your mind."
Harry's curiosity warred with his fear, but his desire to escape his life at Privet Drive pushed him forward. "What do I need to do?" he asked, determined to seize this opportunity.
The figure's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light as he extended a hand toward him. "First, you must accept the fact that you will have to dedicate the next 3 years of your life to me, and then I will grant you the power you seek.
Harry hesitated, but the memories of the Dursleys' cruelty and the pain of his fall down the stairs fueled his resolve. With a deep breath, he reached out and placed his hand in hers. "I swear," he said, his voice firm.
In the ethereal realm of Harry's mind, the figure who had offered him power beyond imagination took on a new form. It was no longer a mysterious entity but a spectral presence, and it spoke with a voice that was at once chilling and now strangely compelling soothing.
"Harry," it began, "I am a part of you, an extension of sorts, here to guide you through the world of wizards and magic."
Harry looked at the figure with a mixture of curiosity and unease. "Wizards and magic? those don't exist, right?"
The figure, which had taken on a shadowy form reminiscent of a man, nodded solemnly. "They do, and that is why I am here, young Harry. To teach you, to help you understand the extraordinary world that you are a part of."
Harry's eyes widened. "Tell me more! "
The figure's voice took on a softer tone. "You are far from ordinary, Harry. You come from a lineage of powerful wizards. Your parents, Lily and James Potter, were renowned in the wizarding world for their bravery and skill."
Harry's young mind struggled to process this information. "My parents? I don't remember them."
The figure's form shifted, becoming more defined as it began to reveal the truth. "Your parents were indeed extraordinary, Harry. They were known for their courage in the face of danger, for standing up against those who sought to harm the wizarding world. But they met a tragic end at the hands of a dark wizard, a wizard who committed a grave mistake by attacking them."
Harry's eyes filled with tears as he heard this. "A dark wizard? Did he kill my parents?"
The figure nodded solemnly. "Yes, Harry. It was he who took your parents' lives. That dark wizard's name was Tom Riddle, but he is more commonly known as Lord Voldemort."
Harry's young heart ached with grief and anger. "Voldemort? He killed my parents?"
The figure continued, "Voldemort believed that your parents posed a threat to his ambitions, but he underestimated their bravery and the power of love. Your mother, Lily, sacrificed herself to save you, and her love created a protective barrier that saved your life."
Harry's emotions swirled within him as he grappled with the revelation. "So, Voldemort killed my parents, and I survived because of my mom's love?"
The figure nodded. "Yes, Harry. You are marked as the Boy Who Lived, the only person to ever survive Voldemort's killing curse. This is a testament to the extraordinary destiny that awaits you."
Harry's anger and sorrow still burned within him, but a new feeling began to emerge—a desire to know more, to understand the world that had taken his parents from him.
"Why are you telling me this now?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
The figure's form shifted again, taking on a more human appearance, albeit with shadowy features. "Because, Harry, I am not just an extension. I used to be a part of Lord Voldemort's soul, a fragment of his consciousness that resides within you. And I believe that you have the potential to change the course of destiny."
Harry's eyes widened as he processed this revelation. "You're a part of Voldemort? You're evil!"
The figure raised a shadowy hand in a calming gesture. "I was once a part of him, yes, but I am no longer driven by the same dark desires. You see spending eight years with you and seeing you grow has made me realize the potential you have. I have also witnessed the consequences of his actions and the suffering he has caused. I want to help you, to guide you toward a different path. One of power and greatness."
Harry remained cautious but intrigued. "How can I trust you?"
The figure's voice was earnest. "Trust is a delicate thing, Harry. I understand your doubts, I don't expect you to ever fully forgive him. But I also know that you have a rare gift—a connection to the dark wizard who wronged you, A dark wizard by all accounts is one of the most powerful wizards in history along with your enormous potential. Together, we can unravel the mysteries of magic, you can achieve what my past self only dreamed of and you can harness your unique abilities to stand against Voldemort."
As Harry contemplated the figure's words, he felt a mixture of fear and determination. He didn't fully trust this being that was part of Voldemort's soul, but he also recognized that there was much he needed to learn about his own identity and the world of magic.
"I'll listen to what you have to say," Harry said cautiously, "but I won't forget what Voldemort did to my parents. And I won't become like him.
The figure nodded, its shadowy form seeming to respect Harry's resolve. "That is a wise decision, Harry. Together, we will navigate the realm of magic, and you will forge your own destiny —one that overshadows even the what once defined me."
As the two continued to converse within the depths of Harry's mind, the young boy's journey into the world of wizards and magic had taken an unexpected turn. Though he remained cautious, Harry had found an unlikely mentor in the fragment of Voldemort's soul, setting the stage for a unique and challenging path that would ultimately define his future.
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Alright, I hope you like the start. Will upload as soon a time permits. If you want till then you can read my cringe stories and yes I know bot are the same one but I can't delete the other one for some reason so read either it dosent matter they are the same. and PLS review,like, and favourite.