Disclaimer:

I solemnly swear that the literature and works of the Harry Potter Verse belong to JK Rowling, Bloomberg and Warner Bros. The only thing I own are the one-shot ideas that popped into my head and whatever OCs I would create for them. This is a work of pure fiction made solely for fun, constructive reviews will be welcomed, flames will be ignored. Any references to characters in real-life or fiction are purely coincidental. If I could make money out of my ideas, it would be nice...

Mischief Managed Damn It!

Title: The Oath of a Flame Mage (Working Title)

Posted Date: July 8 2023

Tags: Pyromaniac Harry, Bad Dumbledore, Street Smart Harry, Bad guys go crispy quickly, Interference Order of Phoenix

Possible Challenges: Harry going to a different school, Harry forced into TWT

Possible Pairings: Harry x Tonks, Harry x Fleur, Harry x Susan

For as long as he could remember, the boy named Harry Potter was fascinated by fire.

He was not sure when or how it all started. Perhaps it was due to the dream where he saw a woman with hair that seemed to radiate a comforting heat as she lightly sang to him, or the nightmare that had flashes of green along with cold laughter. It could also have been the time when Petunia had forced him to cook for the family for the first time, which predictably he did not do so well and Vernon decided to 'educate' him by placing his hand on the open flame. But instead of burning flesh as one would expect, his hand seemed to glow from the open flame before the flame twisted around his hand and shot forward at the walrus, causing him to yelp as he backed away. After that they did not force him to cook that much, even if he did learn how to do so and just did it for himself or to get them off his back.

That was merely the first incident with fire that he had. The second was during a science class where the teacher had shouted at him for something that was totally Dudley's fault. Then again, considering how the Dursleys had spread the story of him being the troublemaker and that a few of the teachers were good friends of the Dursleys, it made sense. All he knew was after the man had yelled at him, his hair had changed to bright blue without warning, and then he tried to accuse him again. When that did not happen since he had no proof and it was in a science lab, the man tried to manhandle him, only for the flames from the nearby Bunsen Burner to flare up and set his sleeve ablaze. Thankfully the other students were afraid of the man and there was camera footage to show that he was being antagonistic towards Harry, so the man got fired and escorted out of the premises. And with how much attention Harry had, the Dursleys could not exactly do their usual brand of punishments, so they just stuck him back in his cupboard and left him there.

On nights when it was cold and he wanted warmth, Harry could call forth a small flame from his hand just by thinking about it. He played around with the flame mostly in the secrecy of his cupboard or the few times he was outside and away from Dudley's "Harry Hunting", feeling the familiar heat caress his skin as the flames danced around his fingers. It did not take long for Harry to call forth a big fireball on command and to have it swirl around him protectively when he wanted, and it helped with his control to eventually wrap the flame like a thin sheet over his skin that gave him a somewhat luminescent look.

It certainly helped when Ripper the bulldog would chase him out of the house and into the park, where he was hidden enough from everyone to let loose some flames to discourage the dog from biting him.

It certainly helped when he was locked out of the house and he had to get shelter by the old junkyard or the old house down the street, the heat from the flames helping to fend off the cold on the really hard nights.

Then came the day that changed his life.

It was the usual workings of the day. Harry would be woken up roughly by the thumping of the stairs by Dudley and Petunia shrieking at him while knocking on a pan, after which he would have to go cook breakfast for the family while having to sate his hunger with a toast and some burnt bits of bacon, just long enough for him to get some actual food from his hiding spot from either the cupboard or one of the food caches outside of the house. Then came the announcement that Marge was coming to visit.

Harry wanted to bang his head against something from that news. It was already bad enough with the idiots in the household to keep being mean, but he was certain that Marge had to be born with the souls of ten evil persons to constantly state that his parents were no good deadbeats who deserved their deaths and that he should be grateful that Vernon was "gracious enough" to let him stay under their roof. Not to mention letting Ripper chase him around as a form of exercise to "put some meat in that worthless body".

That evening when she came to the Dursleys, after being filled with copious amounts of wine, Marge appeared to make it her mission to make him miserable by spewing whatever was on her mind to describe his dead parents as utterly pathetic waste of space that did the world a favor by dying and that he was likely to meet the same end which would be a good thing for her brother. He would have moved out of the room to control himself if not for Dudley blocking the door and Ripper coming to take a bite at him. The barking and snarling of Ripper along with the sounds of Dudley, Vernon and Marge cheering the dog on as it tried to nip him brought his temper to boiling point, and it was the look on Petunia's face that tipped the scale.

He hated them all.

He hated his life.

He wanted them gone.

He just wanted everything to burn!

That was the last thought he had before everything flashed to white. The next time he woke up, Harry was at the old house that he sometimes took shelter at, his clothes burnt and covered in soot, while a big column of smoke was evident in the distance. He did not know how he got here, but Harry had the gut feeling that he would not be returning to the Dursleys anytime soon given the direction of the evident fire coming from Little Whinging. He soon got confirmation the next evening when he was breaking into a store to get some clothes and passed by another store selling television sets with one of the units displaying the news anchor talking about the fire that had killed the Dursleys and Aunt Marge.

Despite hearing of the news, Harry felt just a little numb about the idea that he may have killed them with his flames. They made it clear that he was the "freak" of the family and that he should be grateful that he was not carted off to the orphanage like they kept threatening.

Well, jokes were on them, as distasteful as it was.

Harry was now on his own, and despite his homeless situation, he was actually a little happy about it. He may have to fend for himself for food, but he did not have to deal with the Dursleys anymore. And he knew where to find the best hiding spots around the town for shelter until he could sort the issue out.

That happened earlier than he thought when he noticed some of Crazy Figg's cats wandering about with one having spotted him and following despite his attempts to shoo it away until it left about a block away from his hiding spot that was the old corner store. Later in the evening, Harry felt anxious about something and decided to go into a previously bricked off room he had found in the basement just for the security. He was moving to the door when he heard popping outside of the store, prompting him to creep to the window and pulled back the blinds a little to see several people dressed in robes of all things, led by what looked to be a senile old man who could be a shoe-in for the local drama club. Something about the man's appearance tickled the back of his mind in a bad way, and he quickly moved to the basement while grabbing his bag of items, locking the door before going into the bricked off room with the cupboard blocking the entrance once he entered. He decided to trust his gut and moved elsewhere for the night, following the access tunnel that led to the old maintenance shaft by the road a few away.

It would be close to morning when a tired Harry snuck a ride on the train going to London, using the chance to rest while planning his next move. He was right to move away from his old hiding spot since some people were littering popping up at random spots out of thin air, using what appeared to be actual wands being waved about to find someone, likely him given how quickly a few had converged around his area. He had a few close calls but he managed to get to the train without using his flashy fire tricks.

A few days later, Harry was in a whole new area to explore and to survive, a whole new set of rules to abide by the streets. Other people were not so nice to allow a boy to have a loaf of bread on his own, others not wanting him to have any shelter, and there were those who made his skin crawl when they laid eyes on him.

Yet he felt more at home fighting for his life than at the Dursleys. Out here, he could get what he wanted and read what he wanted. He devoured books from those he could grab from those salvation blocks or bins that people threw out, and learned whatever he could use for his own survival. One of the books he read was a translated copy of the Exodus, and one of the lines sprung out to him in a manner that resonated with him. It talked of how those who treat others badly should expect the same price paid unto them, and how karma could bring about balance in manners that one would not expect.

Sometime after reading that, Harry thought he found his calling when he was settling in for the night at an empty spot around the sewer system when he heard someone screaming near him. He was not sure why, but he made his way to where a woman was getting assaulted by a few men in what looked like dark robes, and it sickened him when he knew there were others nearby but no one bothered helping her. It reminded him a lot of his own past with the Dursleys, and it made him angry.

With that in mind, Harry let loose his flames and made the men stop their attacks in a failed attempt to put the flames out. With his face wrapped in cloth and the flames throwing shadows about, he must have looked quite intimidating when the woman turned to look about only to spot him and then run away like the devil was on her. Her attackers had at that point removed their robes to show very odd clothing beneath them, and to his surprise, used sticks to fire off some type of light in his direction. Harry moved about the area he was in while using the flames to distract them and to burn off the oxygen about them, taking care to not set fire to the surrounding property. His patience paid off as the attackers got tired and sluggish enough for him to introduce a sudden burst of flame that consumed them and eventually leaving behind smoking corpses and Harry looking at them before leaving the place to avoid the police and firemen while grabbing the items they left behind. He was surprised to find bags of gold coins and bulky keys, and the one stick that survived the fire gave off sparks when he waved it for fun. After that excitement, Harry laid down in his makeshift bed and contemplated on what he had done.

Harry knew he did something wrong by killing those men, but he could not overlook how people could just ignore their plight. Not anymore.

This was his new home.

This was his turf to protect and defend.

And those who do not abide by his rules can burn for all he cares.

An Eye for An Eye.

A Tooth for A Tooth.

And Devil's Flames for the Wicked.