Prologue (Part I): The Beginning of Legends (Harry James Potter)

A freak. An ugly freak. An abomination to normalcy was Harry's nature. He had tried to think of himself as humans like others, a decision frowned upon by the Dursleys. The changing of things around him; the glass not breaking after Dudley had tripped him. The sudden instances of him, spontaneously disappearing and reappearing. But there was one occurrence that happened to him constantly.

Looking into others' eyes, Harry felt he almost understood what they were feeling. Every little twitch, every movement gave him insight to their emotions.

Little by Little, Harry began to relish most of these pleasant emotions, some of which he'd never felt before. He had once even felt something akin to fulfillment. Needless to say, there were downsides to this. Not everyone hated him, however, not everyone liked him either. He had experienced disgust and anger through his "special talent".

–(O^O)–

Harry whimpered as the bruise on his back blocked him from Morpheus' welcome arms. The reason for his predicament? Dudley had complained about not feeling comfortable around him and Uncle Vernon? … well, he couldn't resist an opportunity to beat the ever-living shit out of him.

They had found out about his ability a week back. Harry had thought, rather foolishly, he could scare his cousin with his budding new 'powers'. Dudley had ran back crying about mind-reading.

Vernon being the thoughtful and kind uncle he was. Charging into him like a raging bull, his face filled with ferocious fury, Harry never knew existed, the fat man screamed about stomping it out of him.

Even in the face of such dire odds, the scholar in Harry was curious on what was happening as Vernon tried to snuff his existence. All Harry experienced was fear and so much anger that he nearly drowned. In that particular moment, Harry had a breakthrough. He understood. He knew exactly what Vernon was thinking. However, it still left him with more questions than answers.

Bloodied and bruised after one of the most severe beatings he had ever experienced, Harry strengthened his resolve to learn his talent to the extreme. Anything that could make Vernon fear was worth the pain. Internally he wondered why in seven heavens was Vernon thinking about wooden sticks.

–(O^O)-

Through the shabby alleys around his school, he ran as fast as he could. Harry could hear the clumsy footsteps behind him, making their way through the corner he just took.

He passed a man, barely managing to dodge him as he quickly turned the next corner, never noticing the man's widened eye.

His blood ran cold as he came face-to-face with a wall. A dead-end. He was going to end up badly roughed today. He had, after all, taunted Dudley and even tricked him into falling over a pool of mud. And, to Dudley, that was unacceptable.

He let out a shaky breath before running straight towards the wall, with the intent of somehow scaling the wall.

That particular action backfired when his foot slipped on a banana.

"Ow…" was the first word he uttered as he groaned from the concussion he had inflicted on himself, making a mental note to always check floors from then on.

"Right, there," A voice boomed behind him, "Get him!"

Wincing as the pain in the back of his head intensified, Harry stood up, facing his assailants.

His still muddied cousin grinned triumphantly as they converged on Harry, eyeing him with malicious intent..

"Well, well what do we have here?" an English male voice emerged from the corner, the authoritative tone evident.

All of them, except Harry who had already been looking in that direction, turned to face the new addition to their little commotion. No sooner had Dudley and his gang heard the man speaking, than they gazed around their surroundings to ensure an escape route was found.

"Now boys, I know what you all are planning," the man said calmly, as the stomping of his boots grew.

"Yo, back off man," Piers mocked as he proceeded to kick the fallen boy. The man said no more as he swiftly grabbed Harry from his back and simultaneously held onto Piers' wrist.
"Let go of me," Piers demanded, squirming in the man's grasp, "Help me, you daft idiots."

That snapped Dudley out of his reverie. He attempted to step towards the mystery assailant and the figure's head snapped in his direction.

Azure Blue eyes sharply pierced them all, surveying them, judging them. They all froze and the man lightly tossed Piers towards them, who whimpered in pain from the manhandling he had received.

"Scram," his savior sneered. And they rightfully did. Helping Piers up as they scrambled out of the scene.

Harry, discontented and baffled, met the man's eye to find out that they gave nothing away.

The man's lip quirked up in amusement.

"Curious. Potter. Curious"

"What's curious?" The raven-hair boy gritted out, wearily regarding him.

The man finally got illuminated by the sun, revealing someone to be in his early 20s.

His Azure eyes were alight with amusement, a bit of satisfaction and a tiny spark of sympathy.

"That you couldn't fight back."

–(O^O)-

Far Far Away…

A man stared down a smooth unadorned black shaft of the Elder Wand, his expression a mixture of determination, hatred and a tiny amount of fear. His wand, split in 2, was lying just a tad too far from his reach. Maybe a summoning char- His wand disintegrated as 2 light blue curses hit each portion with extreme precision and prejudice.

His enemy's deathly white eyes stared at him. Serene Calmness was all the man could see. But he knew. Oh yes, he knew that there was pure unadulterated fury behind those begrudgingly impressive shields of his assailant.

"You have failed, Death," He spat out, hoping to buy his 2 friends enough time to escape.

Still that infuriating calm smile as if the Dark Lord had nothing to worry.

"Oh I know." The Dark Lord's voice contained an almost mesmeric amount of magic to it, "But you see, at the end of the day. You still lose."

And with that, the man felt a single point of focused magic in his mindscape. A pinprick on his hasty mental shield.

His world burst into that of pure pain as the man in front of him destroyed his mindscape, dragging his happiest memory away from him, bringing forth his worst memories. Faces of dead friends, family and his training and rituals to become the perfect super soldier flashed past his eyes. The Dark Lord ripped all of his memories and he tried, rather futilely, to stop him from reaching the plans of his friend.

When it ended, the man was a gibbering mess. Nose bleeding, eyes rolling back into his head, his dirty, bloody red hair sprawled across the ground. and an expression of pure horror and pain on his face, the General Harbinger was no more.

The Dark Lord looked at him dispassionately. White eyes fading into green. The Elder Wand was raised.

Anyone that was within a hundred miles of the site shuddered, or screamed, in fear as the symbol that has haunted their community for so long appeared over the skies. 2 wands crossed, with their tips glowing green. The symbol of the Black Wands.

A1/N after the complete edit: Changed a lot. And once again, I am open to all criticism. I hope you enjoy this story.