FicWad

Author’s Notes: I would like to apologize; in the last chapter I said I would try and get a new chapter up before the New Year, but sadly I couldn’t do it. The reason is that just before Christmas, I came down with the flu. And as most people who ever had the flu know, when you got the flu you don’t feel like doing much, and this was the case for me. Also, I couldn’t find the words for what I wanted to happen.

WARNING: Portions of this chapter are taken straight from book one (HPatSS) to cut down on writing time. I’m sure we all want to get to the fun bits quicker, so I think we can all agree this is for the best. Chapter Four

The Life of Harry Potter.

July 30th 1991

It was a stormy and windy night and on an island in the middle of nowhere, within a horrible broken-down house, a ten year old boy named Harry Potter was trying to sleep.

But the problem was that the house that he and his ‘family’ were in smelled strongly of seaweed, but also mould and salt. The wind was whistling through the gaps in the old wooden walls. There was no warmth in the house; the fireplace was unlit as it was too damp to light a fire up.

Harry was on the floor, curled up under a thin, mostly ragged blanket. He was tossing and turning - trying to get to sleep, but with the coldness and the storm outside, along with his cousin, Dudley Dursley, who was snoring loudly, it just wasn’t possible. Seeing that he wasn’t able to get to sleep, he got up and walked up to the window to watch the lightning.

Although the storm made it hard for him to get to sleep, he loved the lightning show that storms sometimes made. He found the various ways the lightning in the storm struck truly fascinating. As he watched the show that Mother Nature was putting on, he thought about his life so far and how he got to this awful place.

All his life Harry knew that he wasn’t normal, and because of that, his so called family didn’t like him and treated him badly. As long as he could remember strange things always happened around him when he was upset, hurt or really wanted something.

No matter how many times he told them that he didn’t do it and he didn’t know how it happened, no one would believe him - and so he would be punished.

Because of this, apart from being called ‘Boy,’ his Aunt, Uncle and cousin call him ‘Freak’. In fact, up until he started school he actually thought his name was ‘Freak’.

He thought that after going to school things would change, but sadly they didn’t. He couldn’t make any friends because of Dudley, as he would bully them or tell them lies about Harry. He was called worthless by his relatives, and his own teachers began to call him that as well because he wasn’t allowed to do better than Dudley at school work and if he did, he would be beaten by his Uncle Vernon. Since he was forced to play dumb, and the rumours that his Aunt and Uncle made up about him so that no one would believe him should he say anything about them, behind his back - or so his teachers thought - they would call him a worthless trouble maker.

While some people would be discouraged by this and probably give up, Harry wasn’t one to quit so easily. Quitting was such a foreign concept to the boy that he often joked to himself that his determination was hard-wired into his brain; never really knowing exactly how true that statement was. Regardless of his attempts to play it off, he was rather angry about this, and fully intended on paying the Dursely’s back for their treatment one day. He knew that there was something more to him, and one day he would show them all. But first he would have to find out just what it was that made him think he was more than people thought he was. It wasn’t until Dudley’s seventh birthday that everything changed. One man had changed his life so much, simply because he could see what others ignored.

June 23th 1987

It was seven thirty in the morning and an almost seven year old Harry Potter was in the kitchen of Number Four Private Drive, cooking breakfast for his three relatives. He was informed the night before that if breakfast wasn’t ready before they got up he would be punished. So here he was; cooking breakfast, making sure that everything was perfect seeing as it was Dudley’s birthday, sneaking his own food before anybody else was awake so he wasn’t accused of being a thief like he always was when Vernon saw him go for seconds after finishing the meagre portion allotted to him.

It wasn’t until ten-to-eight when the Dursleys household awoke and came down for their breakfast. As they were half way through breakfast, having already finished the scraps his relatives allowed him to have ‘out of the kindness of their hearts,’ Harry was cleaning the kitchen. As he was busy doing this Dudley asked his father, “Dad, can I join the Takeshi Dojo? I wanna learn to defend myself.”

Harry had to hold in a snort when he heard this. Dudley was fat, lazy, and loved to bully anyone he could get away with bullying. He heard about this Takeshi Dojo place, and he knew it was where they taught Martial Arts. It was a way for someone to defend themselves, but Harry knew his cousin didn’t want to learn it to defend himself; he was just interested in learning how to hurt people better.

Vernon was more than happy to allow his son to learn Martial Arts, as he knew that it could make him into a man he knew his son could become. So he told his son, “Of course my son! We can go to the Dojo after lunch and sign you up.”

“Thanks Dad! But can you sign up the Freak too?” Dudley asked, causing both Vernon and Harry to look at him in confusion.

Harry was confused because he knew that Dudley hated him and wouldn’t ask something like this unless he was up to something. But he was more than happy to go, as he too wanted to learn Martial Arts. His uncle normally wouldn’t allow him to go, but now that Dudley ‘I Get Whatever I Want’ Dursley wanted it…

Vernon was simply confused why his son would include the freak in anything, but his answer came as Dudley said with a smirk, “I want him to come so I have someone to practice on.”

Vernon couldn’t help but to smirk to, his son would have someone to practice on as rough as he liked and not have someone telling him off for it. Vernon knew that any other time, he wouldn’t allow the Freak to go, but now that his son had clued him in on his genius reasoning (such a smart son he had, just like his old man) Vernon felt he could allow it. “Sure son, he would make a perfect practice partner for you.” He said happily. Not wanting to end the decision without putting the Freak down somehow her turned to the boy and all but snarled, “If I can sign you up, boy, you’d better keep up with my Dudley so he’ll have someone to practice with, but should you dare hurt my son, there’ll be hell to pay, understand, Freak?”

Harry nodded, far too happy about the opportunity presented to him to care about any punishment Vernon would put on him.

July 30th 1991

Harry smiled as he watched the waves of water crash into the rocks as he remembered that day. Although Dudley wanted to go to the Takeshi Dojo to have a reason to beat up on him without getting into trouble, he was thankful that Dudley did it. He remembered well that Vernon took both him and Dudley to the Dojo to get signed up and Vernon warning him, for the seventh time that day, that should he get into trouble there would be hell to pay.

As Harry watched the storm he remembered the months that followed. He found that he was very good at the Martial Arts, and that he could do the moves a lot easier and faster than other students at the Dojo. However, because he couldn’t do better than Dudley, he had to hold back how good he was. Luckily for him, Harry didn’t need to hold back too much, as surprising as it sounds, Dudley was also good at it as well. Not as good as Harry, Dudley was above average in the class though.

But the problem was that Dudley used his skill to bully younger children and new students, Dudley was warned a few times about it. But when Dudley informed his parents about it, he blamed it on Harry, claiming that Harry was lying to the teachers. Believing their son, Harry would get beaten for this and told not to lie to the teachers again. However, at the end of August, Sensei Ayame Kyoukan asked his aunt and uncle about Dudley’s bullying. Harry remembered the day well…

August 31st 1987

Harry and Dudley were sitting in the office of their Sensei, Ayame Kyoukan, he was a fifty year old Japanese man and he had dark brown hair and eyes. Although strict, he was also fair and fun, he made learning Martial Arts fun as long as you followed his rules. If you didn’t… well not many of the troublemakers stayed for very long, the man was an almost sadistic task manager to them, punishing the smallest mistakes with more exercise. The kids either shaped up or dropped out.

He was a believer in second chances, he gave kids a chance to try and shape up, but if they didn’t he made his opinion very clear about them leaving his class. This was why Harry and Dudley were in his office now, Sensei Kyoukan had given Dudley many chances to change the way he treated the younger children and new students. Normally the Sensei wouldn’t give a student so many chances, but he saw how good Dudley was and wanted to try and change the kid for the better, but for some reason it didn’t work out and something needed to be done. So Sensei Kyoukan had to call in their relatives, to find out the reason behind this. This worried Harry, as he knew that when they got home that night he would be beaten and blamed for what Dudley had done, no matter what was said.

So when his aunt and uncle came into Sensei Kyoukan’s office with his Sensei, Harry lowered his head so as not to meet his uncle’s eyes, as he knew it could only make things worse. As Vernon and Petunia sat down, Sensei Kyoukan started things off, “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, thank you for coming today, I know you must be busy.”

“It’s not a problem, Mr. Kyoukan was it?” Vernon said politely as Kyoukan nodded, “Now can I ask why we are here for? I hope that the Boy,” Vernon said venomously as he looked at Harry, “Hasn’t been giving you any trouble?”

Ayame Kyoukan shook his head in disgust, as he heard the way people talked about his favourite student. He has been around and he could see the signs of abuse anywhere, he saw how underweight the young Potter was; while he didn’t appear stunted physically, he was still very skinny, only making his oversized clothes look all the bigger. He even reported his suspicions to the child welfare, but nothing seemed to come of it. He now understood more why young Potter was holding back, at first he thought that he feared what his cousin Dudley Dursley would do to him should he do better than Dudley, but he felt that there was a bit more than that. Now he knew what it was, it wasn’t only his cousin was worried about, but also his aunt and uncle. Maybe what he had planned for the young Potter would help… replying calmly to Vernon he said, “No Mr. Dursley, your nephew Mr. Potter hasn’t been trouble at all, but your son on the other hand, I’m sorry to say that I have to remove him from our program.”

“What?” Vernon asked angrily, “Why would you need to remove him from your program for? What lies has the Boy been telling you?”

“Mr. Potter hasn’t told me anything.” Sensei Kyoukan answered calmly, “It was what I have seen with my own two eyes, and what other people have been telling me. I’m removing your son from the program because of his bullying of young and new students. I have warned him several times of his cruel behaviour, and yet he keeps on doing it. Normally I wouldn’t have given him so many chances, but I saw something in him, he had the potential to be good and thought he could be better with an attitude adjustment, but he didn’t change, and so this is the reason you are here today, so you know what’s going on.”

Vernon’s face was turning red at what he was being told. He knew what his son was like, and although some people might call it bullying he called it being heavy handed, just like most kids were at that age. He wanted to rant and rave about how it was the Freak’s fault, but then he would have to explain what he meant and he knew that he couldn’t do that, who would believe him if he told the truth? So settled for saying, “Okay Mr. Kyoukan, in that case I would like to remove the Boy from your program too, the only reason that he was allowed to come was to give my son someone to practice with.”

Sensei Kyoukan feared this would happen, as he overheard young Dudley talking how young Potter was there so he could practice on him, so he could hurt him without getting into any trouble. He just hoped that his plan worked out, “And that is your right to do so Mr. Dursley,” Sensei Kyoukan began, “But I hope that you would reconsider letting young Mr. Potter stay in the program.”

“And why would you want to do that Mr. Kyoukan?” Vernon asked.

“Because I would like to take him on as my Apprentice.” Sensei Kyoukan revealed.

“And why would you want to do that?” Vernon pressed suspiciously.

“Because I’ve seen your nephew train and fight, and I believe that with the right training he could go far, maybe even becoming a master some day.” Sensei Kyoukan replied, “In a few more months, with the right training, he could enter some tournaments and win money.” Anybody with common sense could see he was waving a carrot in front of the whale-man’s face, but Vernon was too blinded by the thought of money to see passed the dangling vegetable.

“Money you say?” Vernon said as the wheels in his so call brain began to move, “Tell me more.”

Once again Kyoukan shook his head in disgust at how Vernon’s behaviour suddenly changed as his greed started to take over, but he knew that he got him where he want him.

“Yes Mr. Dursley, I believe that in a few short months your nephew could come in third or higher in some Martial Art Tournaments that I know of.” Sensei Kyoukan baited, “From what I remember the prize money is normally very good; 3rd place getting five hundred pounds, 2nd place getting a thousand pounds, whilst 1st would win a total of fifteen hundred pounds.

“Sometimes though, depending on the Tournament, the money could be more or less. Also, seeing since he would be my Apprentice, I would get 45% of the prize money. This would be to cover my time, equipment, and anything else for his training.” That wasn’t true, although other Masters might take this much from their Apprentice; he would normally only take 25% of the winnings. However, seeing how Vernon was behaving, he decided to take 45% of the winnings the other 20% was kept safe for his student until he needed it for anything.

Vernon on the other hand was thinking hard on the money that he could get, weighing it against if he should allow the Boy to do this. On one hand he would get the money from the Boy winning these Martial Art Tournaments, it would be one way for the lazy boy to pay them back for their generosity and get him out of his and Petunia’s hair for a while. However, on the other hand it meant giving the Boy something good and allowing him to do what he liked doing, and that was one of the things that they didn’t want to do. However, with the thought of the money, Vernon decided to allow the Boy to do this, so Vernon said to Sensei Kyoukan, “Okay, I’ll allow the boy to your become Apprentice, but don’t blame me should he becomes a problem for you.”

Harry couldn’t help to smile when he heard this; it would allow him to get out the house for a few hours and away from his so called family. So after his uncle and aunt signed some papers that needed to be signed, they went back to Private Drive. Here Harry was warned that if he didn’t win at least third place when he started to do the tournaments he would be in big trouble. This threat, of course, was repeated word for word almost two dozen times until his first tournament arrived making it, for the most part, lose any sort of meaning.

July 30th 1991

As Harry turned his head from the window and looked at his relatives he remembered how becoming Sensei Kyoukan’s Apprentice had changed his life. Sensei Kyoukan wanted him to be at the Takeshi Dojo about six thirty in the morning for an hour and a half, and after school for three hours. The reason for the early begins was not only for the training, but so that Harry could have breakfast. Sensei Kyoukan wanted to work on Harry’s worryingly skinny build, and prevent the malnutrition and stunted growth that could have very well set in if Harry’s eating habits continued, as he knew that the Dursley’s weren’t giving him enough food, and even the food Harry admitted to sneaking was just barely above the absolute minimum amount to keep him healthy in the loosest sense of the word. So it was Sensei Kyoukan’s plan to give Harry three square meals, breakfast, lunch, which he made for Harry, and dinner that he would have ready for Harry when he got back from school before starting Harry training. Sensei Kyoukan did this to not only to maximize Harry’s growth potential, but also because he honestly grew to care for the boy.

Harry remembered the beginning of his new training as his Sensei’s Apprentice, his Sensei started off by building up his strength, reflexes and his endurance. As his Apprentice, Sensei Kyoukan wanted him to be stronger, faster and last longer than any other Martial Artist he would fight against. So Sensei Kyoukan had Harry run in the mornings and afternoons. Quickly following his afternoon run Sensei Kyoukan had him lifting weights to build up strength alongside his endurance. At that point Harry was usually dead on his feet, so, naturally, Sensei Kyoukan decided to start ‘evasion training,’ which Harry thought was a pretty bollocks name considering the man just threw dodge balls at him until he either dodged them or was laying on the ground moaning in pain with a sadistically grinning Sensei above him, usual dropping more dodge balls on him if he had any left in his hands just to taunt the boy.

Sadistic or not, the training worked, and Harry was eventually permitted to learn new fighting techniques that would win him tournaments. Sensei Kyoukan told Harry that he would put him in his first tournament after his eighth birthday, which finally caused Vernon to stop threatening him every other day with ‘big trouble,’ which was just laughable by that point due to how often he said it.

One of the funniest discoveries of Harry’s past was discovering his Sensei’s name; Ayame, which also meant Lily. While the man would change the subject quickly as to why he had a girl’s name when Harry’s asked, the budding soon-to-be wizard delighted in calling the man ‘mum,’ due to them both knowing his mother’s name, an just plain ‘Lily’ when mum got old. Eventually he’d snapped for the first time in Harry’s memory, “For the love of Kami Harry, STOP CALLING ME LILY!” he’d screamed. Harry knew that it was all in the name of fun though, so after the fifth time his Sensei had begged him to stop calling him Lily, Harry had responded with “Ok…” And just when his Sensei had looked relieved he’d grinned at him, mumbling, “… flower-girl.”

His Sensei had just sighed, thrown his hands up in defeat, and walked away.

What Harry didn’t know was that the name Ayame Kyoukan was a name that his Sensei had given himself. Ayame had come from a ninja school back in Japan, and like all students in the school, as they finished they had to give themselves a new name to go by in their jobs as a ninja. The name Ayame, apart for meaning Lily, also meant to murder, which was why he named himself Ayame, despite it being a girl’s name. His last name was Kyoukan because it meant assassin, which was what he was, as Ayame worked as an assassin for the Japanese Government, and his name became feared and many people were afraid of him and didn’t want to face him. Ayame left the Japanese Government and stopped being a ninja, sort of, and came to England and start a new life when someone he loved and cared for was killed. The only reason he kept the name was to keep anyone the Japanese Government would send to kill him away; he was one of the best, and no one would wanted to face him.

Back in the present Harry spied another jagged bolt of lightning arc from the sky and hit somewhere in the distance; his eyes unseeing as his mind was too busy thinking about his first tournament. The tournament was called the Takeshi Tournament; when Harry asked if the name of the Dojo and the tournament were related somehow, Sensei Kyoukan said that the person who started The Takeshi Dojo and the one that started the tournament were the same person. The owner of the Takeshi Dojo believed in the old ways, and he wanted to train future warriors. To do this he started the Dojo and regularly hosted tournaments. The tournament was held in a town known as Brightsummer that year.

Unlike a normal tournament where there were two leagues; the standard tournament between Dojos of that county, to show which Dojo was the best in the county, and the Independent Tournament as they called it, for the group of people that taught themselves how to fight. These fights were more like Street Fights, where almost anything goes, then it was a legal and sponsored tournament, however there were larger rewards for the winners because they didn't go to a school to be taught, and usually had no teacher of any kind. These fighters came from all over the county.

The Takeshi Tournament had the two standard tournaments with students from all over the world, but it also had the Apprentice’s Tournament. It was to show off the best student or students the Sensei’s felt to take on as an Apprentice(s) and train personally. The only tournament that Harry didn't take part in was the Independent Tournament, but he was interested in watching them, to see how they fought.

Now although Sensei Kyoukan’s Dojo came in third, much to Harry’s disappointment, he came in tenth place in the Apprentice’s Tournamentm, which was even worse. His Sensei had consoled him that the other competitors had been training for longer than he had, but his words rung through deaf ears after Harry got home and was beaten by his uncle for losing. The only thing Harry got out of it was that if he were going to do something, then you either put your all into it or backed out, and from that day forward he trained even harder than before for even longer.

Nearly a year past by after that, bringing with it quite a few changes. First, seeing that Dudley still wanted to learn Martial Arts, Vernon was able to find another Dojo for his son to learn from - one that didn’t care that his son was a bully or not. The second thing that changed, and in Harry’s opinion for the better for him, was that he was moved from his cupboard to the basement. Over the year his Sensei had put him in many different tournaments; most of them in Brightsummer, in which he won over half of them. His Uncle was happy with the money he was getting from Harry’s winnings, so it made Harry’s plan a bit easier to play out. Thanks to his Sensei Harry was a perfectly healthy boy, not a sign of malnutrition on him, and because of this Harry was getting too big for the cupboard he slept in and needed more room. So one night after dinner Harry talked his uncle into allowing him to sleep in the basement. More along the lines of borderline-blackmailed him really, as he told his uncle that if he didn’t give him the basement to sleep/live in, he would lose all of his tournaments, and seeing how greedy Vernon was he grudgingly agreed to this, but warned Harry that should he loss any of his tournaments, he would be right back in the cupboard again until he won again. Needless to say, Harry never saw the cupboard again.

Harry still had to do chores and that around the house, but his life has been better since he started learning Martial Arts. With his Sensei Kyoukan’s help, whom Harry had long since started seeing as a father figure, Harry was much happier than before meeting him. His Sensei Kyoukan had cared what happened to him; he brought him clothes that fit him, food so he wouldn’t be hungry, and any other little things here and there he needed to make sure he was okay. He was the only one to remember Harry’s birthday, and even got him something for it. Sensei Kyoukan would also give him pocket money to spend on whatever he wanted. Harry remembered the day that he asked his Sensei why he was doing all this for him; it certainly didn’t seem like something a Sensei would do for his Apprentice. Sensei Kyoukan explained that partly it was because of the Apprenticeship, but another reason was that he had started to see Harry as the son that he never had but always wanted. He told Harry that he once had someone he loved and wanted kids with, but she was killed - he didn’t tell Harry how though, as he said that he wasn’t ready to talk about it. But with her death, he swore he wouldn’t be with another woman, and to this day he’d kept that promise. But as he got older, he realized that mistake; with no child he had no protégée worthy to pass down his knowledge. Sensei Kyoukan explained that at first he thought of Harry as just his Apprentice, as he wanted to pass down some of what he learnt so it wouldn’t be lost. But as time went by he saw him as a son and started to teach him more, fully intending on teaching him everything he could and protecting him as much as he could. Harry was shocked, but overjoyed his feeling for the man had been mutual - and so began a father/son relationship between the Kyoukan and Harry.

Since Harry moved into the basement he’d cleaned out the rubbish cluttering it up and turned it into his own training area. As he started to learn wood work at school he realized he had a real knack for it; so good he was able to make small wooden animals that he sold to children at school for extra money. When asked where he got the money he would tell his aunt and uncle that Sensei Kyoukan had given it to him to use as he wished.

On Harry’s ninth birthday, after his Sensei had given him his yearly present; tools for his wood work, he’d also sat Harry down and talked to him seriously about something.

July 31th 1991

Harry was having a piece of cake that his Sensei give him for his birthday when he heard Kyoukan say with a sigh, “Harry, my son, before we begin today there are a few things I want to talk to you about.”

Pushing his plate from him, Harry looked up at his Sensei and said, “Yes Sensei?”

“As you know before I came here to teach Martial Arts I travelled the world.” Kyoukan began, “During my travels I saw many things, many things you would call supernatural. Apart from ghosts and demons, I saw people able to do what some would call magic.”

“You’re saying that magic and supernatural beings are real?” A shocked Harry said, “It can’t be, my uncle told me many times that that kind of things don’t exist.”

“Trust me my son, they are real, but it is so well hidden that most people don’t know of their existence.” Kyoukan said calmly, expecting scepticism. “I can go on all day about it, but the main thing I want to talk to you about is magic. You need to know that there are many forms of magic, some people call it Magic, whilst some call it Chi, whilst others prefer to call it Ki, and some even call it Chakra - each of these powers has different skills and different ways to use them. But sadly I can’t tell you much about Chi or Chakra, as I’ve only met people who are able to use it, but they wouldn’t tell me because of the rules of their people. That doesn’t matter really, as what I want you to talk about is magic, as in wizards and witches. Out of the three powers I told you about, the magic wizards and witches use often requires a focus to use it, normally in the form of a wand.”

“Sensei, what has this got to do with me?” Harry asked.

“Harry, do you remember the times you told me about the strange happenings that happened before I taught you how to control your anger?” Kyoukan asked. Harry nodded in return, remembering the strange happenings. “Well I believe that it was accidental magic, as some people would call it. I believe you, Harry, are a wizard.” He proceeded to explain to his son in all but blood what he knew about the Magical World up until the late 1981 when he had last heard anything from a wizard he was a friend with in England. He explained to Harry that the Wizarding World in England and a few other countries were stuck in the dark ages, pausing to stress just how bigoted Britain in particular was, using terms like half-bleeds, Squibs, Muggles, Muggleborn, half-bloods and Purebloods. After Harry was aware of the ‘blood status’ issue, his Sensei next explained how the Purebloods in England and a few other countries treated people all because they believed that they were below them because of these traits. He also talked about the war with Voldemort, and how that Harry had somehow defeated in 1981 - although he didn’t know how, just that Voldemort was defeated. Since Harry was rapidly becoming jaded with the magical world Kyoukan made sure to stress just how good the Magical World could be as well, and that not all of it was bad, maybe even outweighing the bad, even with the rampant bigotry.

Harry was shocked at what his father told him, and despite Kyoukan’s efforts to look on the bright side of things, telling how about flying on brooms and the capabilities of magic in general, Harry knew that should he ever enter into this Wizarding World, he would be going to a country that treated its people unfairly just because of not just who their parents were, but WHAT their parents were. “Thanks for telling me all this Sensei. What has it got to do with me though?” Harry asked, puzzled. “It’s not like I have to be a part of this world if I don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry to tell you Harry, but in two years time you WILL have to become part of it.” Kyoukan said sadly, “You see, there is a law that states that all children at the age of eleven need to go to school to learn to control their magic. Although I don’t like it much, seeing how this country is run, I do agree about the schooling. As I have heard stories about how children that didn’t learn to control their magic ended up blowing up and killing and/or hurting people around them. However, before that day comes, I wanted to make sure you are ready for what is to come. So from this day forth, for a few days a week, instead of normal training. I’m going to teach you what I can to make sure you are ready for when you enter this Wizarding World.”

“Does this mean you know magic too?” Harry asked with a twinkle in his eye as he thought about what his ‘father’ would be able to show him about magic.

“I’m sorry son but no, I can’t do magic.” Kyoukan said sadly. He wanted his son prepared, and he wished he could do magic for no other reason than to teach Harry. “But I do have a few friends from Japan coming soon who will help you learn magic. It’s our hope that you can learn magic without the aid of a wand, they want you to learn wandless magic like they do in Japan and a few other countries. Apart from hoping to teach you wandless magic, they are hoping to teach you a handful of other skills they possess. These are all skills that each individual decided to teach you because you’re my Apprentice, and they feel like you could put what they know to good use. I will leave exactly what you will be learning for them to explain, as they could do it better then I, and I think they want to surprise you.” Kyoukan grinned at Harry’s pout, knowing the boy didn’t like things being kept from him.

Like any other nine year old that was told that magic was real and he was going to learn it, he begun to daydream what he would do with such a skill if he was able to learn it. He didn’t see Kyoukan giving him a knowing look, amused Harry could even act his own age anymore but happy that he was able to create the level of childlike joy that Harry was exuding.

So time passed, as it generally does, and eventually two Japanese people in their early forties arrived. The male was about five foot four, whilst the female was four foot ten. Both had long black hair, the male having black eyes whilst the female had darkish red eyes. They were both wearing strange looking black robes. Harry would later learn they were called Shihakushō. These people were man and wife, Isamu and Miyako Takeda, and they were two of the most powerful Mages in Japan.

These two people, who could affectionately be referred to as ‘little’ by a good portion of the planet, in the span of two years did irreparable damage to a certain meddling old man’s plans, but Harry wouldn’t know this for years, if ever.

July 30th 1991

Harry smiled as he saw another clip of lighting. Isamu and Miyako, over the last two years, became the Aunt and Uncle he’d always wanted, and like his Sensei he was happy to call them as such, just as they thought of him as a nephew. It was probably one of the happiest days of his lives that he woke up in his basement, looked around at the pictures of his three teachers, and realized THEY, were his family, and the people he lived with were just that, people he was forced to live with, thoroughly unpleasant people at that.

Isamu and Miyako never explained why they occasionally gave him strange knowing looks, all they said was that they would explain in a few years. They were fun loving and enjoyed telling him about their life as children; they had known each other since they were eleven, when they’d started going to the Japanese Wizarding School. Their favourite stories of them pulling pranks on people at the school. In fact, they actually taught him some of the pranks that they pulled so when he began going to Wizarding School, which they still hadn’t told him the name of, he could pull some of them. Harry let them teach him, smiling all the while despite really having no interest in pranks. Oh he was rather good at pulling them off, like so many other things a steady hand was key to pranking success, but it just didn’t interest him.

Apart from telling him stories of their past and about the Japanese and English Wizarding World, they taught him a few things when his Sensei wasn’t teaching him Martial Arts. One of the first things they teach him was the history of the Magical World. While this was incredibly interesting to Harry, who always enjoyed a good history lesson, he became even more disillusioned with the Magical World after they taught him more recent history. The Magical World was horribly corrupt, he would need to keep his wits about him at all times.

Apart from teaching him history, Isamu and Miyako also tried some wandless magic, which Harry just called magic. He called it magic instead of wandless magic was because he realized that humans made the wands for a reason, but before hand there were no wands, and were still able to use magic. Calling it wandless magic was insulting to those who’d learned and mastered their mystical abilities without wands.

Sadly he found he wasn’t as good as Isamu and Miyako at magic, where they could do almost anything with a wand, all he could do was to summon and banish things. Although he was upset that he couldn’t do much, both Isamu and Miyako told him that he shouldn’t be, as there were very few that could use even basic wandless magic. They also told him that in a fight knowing how to summon and banish things would come in handy, because if he lost his wand he could summon it back to him, and should he be out numbered and surrounded he could banish them away from him so he would have room to fight. Hearing it put that way Harry wasn’t so disappointed that he wasn’t instantly good at it, which was only helped when his honorary aunt and uncle told him he would get better as he aged, his body growing into its power.

Another skill he learnt during the two years was elemental magic, which he found he was somewhat good at it. Though he could thank his aunt and uncle treating him so badly when he younger that he was so good at it. When Harry learnt about element magic, Isamu and Miyako told him there were many kinds of elements that could be used and with magic, Chi/Ki and Chakra, they had different ways of using these elements. They also told Harry that normally a person could command at least one of the main four elements: Earth, Fire, Wind and Water. But sometimes a person could control other elements, like Lighting, Shadow, Ice, and even Time. Although that last one had only been wielded once and it was a direct gift from magic itself.

For people using Ki, Chi, or Chakra one had to be born with the ability to use the element, but for Magical’s something traumatic or unique had to happen to them. They had given him a few examples; a magical that had been hit by lightning and survived would, from that day on, be immune to lightning and be able to wield it with practice. Shadow was a bit harder, as they had to understand shadow, be comforted by darkness, and be bathed in it for a long, long time. It was near unheard of for a magical that could use the element of darkness and shadow to have had a happy life before they gained their power.

Isamo and Miyako were less then shocked, after running the proper test ritual, to find he had an affinity towards darkness. With how his relatives treated him when he was younger before he became Sensei Kyoukan’s Apprentice he knew darkness very well, as they made him stay in his dark cupboard for hours on end. He got so used to the darkness, he was safe in his cupboard. His only friends were the spiders and that suited him just fine at that point. So all in all, he believed he knew darkness better than a great deal of people. When they found out that he was a Shadow Elementalist Isamu, Miyako and Kyoukan asked why he thought he would be a Shadow Elementalest, so he told them about his life before becoming Kyoukan’s Apprentice.

This was just confirmation of what he already suspected for Kyoukan, but Isamo and Miyako were outraged. Harry knew what they wanted to do; go to the police and report the people he lived with, but he told them not to. He told them that there was no proof that anything had happened. His scars, the few he had when Vernon crossed the line, could be played off as training accidents because it was well known he was Kyoukan’s Apprentice, further excused because he lived in the basement with no supervision. There was no evidence of starving him thanks to Kyoukan, so they really had no legal foothold, and no charges would stick.

Another thing that they taught him was something they’d dubbed Body Magic, it was something they invented themselves after researching what they could about the three older forms of Japanese energy manipulation, those being Chi, Ki and Chakra. Isamu and Miyako explained that both of these powers were able to make their bodies to become stronger, faster, more dexterous, and even enhance their senses. Before training Harry in this skill Isamu and Miyako warned him that because they had invented the skill recently it was possible there was risks involved, and it was also possible he wouldn’t be able to learn it at all.

Because of the newness of the abilities there wasn’t a set way to teach it, so Harry learned largely through trial and error followed by deep discussions with his aunt and uncle. As such, progress was rather slow, and in the year Harry had been practising the ability he only had enhanced speed to show for it. Still, being able to cross a gap of ten meters in the blink of an eye wasn’t something to scoff at.

That wasn’t all his true family taught him though. After it became apparent he had an affinity for animals (ones that were Ripper anyway) they trained in the ways of the Beast Masters. That training went rather well and he could get small mundane animals to follow his orders perfectly. In time, he was told, he would be able to do the same for magical animals and even be able to converse with them. This also gave his family the opportunity to teach him to be sly, and use cunning to his advantage.

Harry in the present day cringed as he remembered his aunt Miyako teaching him about woman. She was a strict teacher when it came to this subject, thoroughly teaching him what they generally like liked, and how to chat the girls up so he could learn what they liked in specific. Just because one girl like something didn’t mean another did, and assuming the second liked exactly what the first did would land him in deep trouble if he wanted to get himself a girl or two in the future. ‘The Talk,’ as it could only be referred to as, was exceptionally embarrassing. His family learned that Harry was more of a dominating type of lover after his hormones had started emerging, so they did their best to make sure he was comfortable and aware of this fact and wouldn’t ever cross any lines.

It seemed almost inconsequential in the long run, but they also taught him Occlumency. Harry found he had a very large amount of natural skill in this art and easily found his Mindscape, as his family called it. When he first entered his Mindscape he found himself in a clearing in a forest.

Harry decided to explore and soon he reached another open area of the forest he when he saw a castle. It was huge; Harry was shocked that he didn't see it sooner. The trees in the forest were tall, yes, but they shouldn't have been tall enough to block him from seeing the towers of the castle. As he left the forest and walked towards the castle she found himself in front of a small village, around him were many houses, fire pits, what looked like businesses, and even a small man-made canal running through the town. He spent a while exploring the town, discovering it was sectioned off into three districts all seemingly ranked by how high they were, as the town was situated on a hill before climbing upwards, towards the castle itself.

Ascending the steps towards the castle he marvelled at the large oak doors, easily a dozen times taller than he was. Around the castle was a moat full of crystal clear water, which was easily, crossed by a draw bridge that leads to the massive front doors. Above the castle were dark thunder clouds. Because all of this made a rather foreboding scene, he decided to explore it later.

Harry decided to explore the lowest district, where he found a well in the middle of the district. As he walked up to the well, he found a ladder inside it that lead down to the bottom. Interested in what could be down there, he climbed down the ladder and found a massive cave. The cave only had one chamber, but that was enough. Within the chamber, he was shocked to see a huge orb. His aunt and uncle would later tell him that the orb was his magical core.

Harry decided to climb down to get a better idea of what the orb looked like. After a careful climb down he looked at the massive orb in front of her and peered inside. The most striking was a light green glow in the centre of the orb, he was struck by a sense of possessiveness when he focused on it too hard. There were also other things, colours, lights, and what looked like elements; there was a spark of electricity, a matchstick's worth of flame, a wave of green energy that seemed to represent wind, and so forth. He decided that the strange looking energies represented his magical potential; skills that he didn't have yet, but could use with enough work. The others he wasn't sure about, but he was sure he could puzzle them out in time with the help of his family. However, he felt something, it was like something was missing, something that was meant to be there to make him stronger. But he wasn’t sure what it was, and he couldn’t explain it to his family and so didn’t until he knew what it was.

In order to defend his Mindscape his family helped him create guardians. The forest was filled with wood elves and centaurs with bows and knives, while the area just outside of town had been expanded into a large and open field, populated by giants with large wooden clubs in camps with wooly mammoths wandering them. Inside the town he created guards, and townsfolk. He didn't give them personalities, seeing no need for it, so they didn't do anything but go about a set routine unless they sensed an intrusion in his mind. He still never went into the castle, simply storing his memories inside it when he needed some place to put them. He made sure to lock down the castle when he was done, raising the draw bridges, making sure the archers nearby were alert, and other measures.

While all this was going on Kyoukan had taught him as much Martial Arts as he could cram into the boy’s body. After they were done for the day the two would just talk about anything that crossed their mind. It was during one of these times they got into a philosophical debate over the titles of good and evil. Eventually, after hearing his father’s side of the argument, Harry adopted a similar mindset. Good and evil were just labels, as were dark and light. One could do good things and be seen as evil, and commit evil acts and be seen as good, it was all almost laughable. What really mattered was power.

Although life outside of Private Drive got a lot better, life inside of Number 4 had stayed relatively the same as always, that being; pretty bad. Although he didn’t tell his family it, he was still treated quite badly by his relatives. He still needed to do most of the chores when he wasn’t training, and he was still be beaten by his uncle and his cousin for the tiniest of things when they were in a bad mood. The reason that he didn’t defend himself was that he knew that if he did they would wait until he was asleep and most likely beat him within an inch of his death - so he knew not to do anything until he could move out at the age of sixteen. The only good thing was that thanks to size, due to his dad’s care, he could no longer stay in the cupboard under the stairs. However, never the ones to be deterred from making their Freak of a nephew’s life miserable, they found another way to punish him; take away his wood work. Apart from doing training in his basement, he also made things with the money that his Sensei gave him at his work bench. Over the last two years Harry had gotten better and better at making things from wood. At first the Dursleys took his finished work and either destroy it in front of him or sold it, keeping the money for themselves. This only made him grow to hate his relatives more and spurred him on to improve further. He started making secret compartments in his work where he could store things, which made them even more valuable to those he sold them to directly because he could tell them about it. Word got around eventually of his skill and Vernon actually had a hard time selling Harry’s work because people assumed it was a cheap knock-off of Harry’s.

His greatest project yet was actually something rather simple; a bed. He had to hide all the pieces as he made them because of the engraving he wanted to make on the bed posts. The designs he was planning on featured engraved dragons, imps, centaurs, maybe a phoenix or two, griffins, that sort of thing, and the Durselys were violently allergic any sort of magic/fantasy creatures.

Back in the present day Harry sighed as his mind fast forwarded to just a week and three days ago when he and his Dojo had taken part in the Takeshi Tournament again. This year his Dojo had come in second, whilst in his Apprentice’s Tournament, he had come in first place this year.

After his fights, like usual, he went to watch the Independent Tournament, as he had hope that one day he could have the chance to join it. It was rare, but from time to time, one student could join the Independent Tournament to see if they had what it took to win. As it was a lot more different than the normal Tournaments he was in. There was another reason he like to watch the Independent Tournament, there was a red haired girl in these Tournaments that competed often, she stood out more than the others and he couldn't stop thinking about. Her eyes were the same shade as his was, maybe a little lighter, and he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen her before. She had three other girls with her who watched her and the other fights that she wasn’t in. He would be lying if he said he’d done better than normal, taking first place, because he wanted to impress the pretty redhead after he'd seen her watching him.

A week after his fights Harry had gotten a strange letter. Not strange because it was the only letter Harry had ever gotten, but because it was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp, only a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms featuring a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

Mr. H. Potter The Basement 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey

There was no mistake it was his letter, but before he could open it his uncle yanked it sharply out of his hand. After his uncle showed the letter to his aunt both of them paled as if they knew who the letter was from. As he tried to get his letter, his uncle told him and Dudley to leave. Knowing better then to provoke his uncle he complied, still angry about his mail being taken. Dudley was actually yelled at when he stayed behind to find out what the letter was, making Harry’s mood brighten considerably. Still, he was angry about the whole matter and went to the Takeshi Dojo to vent some of his anger.

When he arrived at the Dojo he saw his Sensei fighting Isamu and Miyako at the same time. He watched them fight, wondering how well he would do against them if he went all out as they finished up. So engrossed in their fight the three didn’t notice his entry until he threw all of them some towels. When Harry explained the situation with the letter he was annoyed when Isamu and Miyako smiled at him and finally told him the name of the local Magical School; Hogwarts. They told him not to worry and that Hogwarts would keep sending him letters until he answered one, or if an allotted amount of time passed without him answering the letters they would send someone to talk to him personally.

Harry’s anger disappeared as he learned of this, as he really didn’t think he would ever be able to grab a letter without the Dursley’s knowing; they watched him like a hawk whenever anything magic was discussed and he doubted even with his magically enhanced speed he could cram a letter into his pocket before they saw it. He was confused about one face; the letters were normally released earlier to give families time to adjust, so why was his sent so late?

Harry pulled himself away from the window as another bolt of lightning lit up the world for but an instant and smiled; Isamu and Miyako were right, he did get more letters from Hogwarts, more than one in fact. Harry lost count of how many identical letters had appeared but he knew it was at least a few hundred. Not only were they coming from the letterbox, but they were also appearing in the cupboards, with the eggs, on the telly, inside the oven, they were absolutely everywhere within 48 hours. Harry’s earlier theory had been proven right and the handful of times he’d tried to sneak a single letter when his relatives were distracted by the other several dozen identical letters they’d caught him. He wasn’t punished for it, he just had the letter taken away and was forced to sit and do absolutely nothing in the middle of the living room so his relatives could snatch away any letter that appeared.

The next day thousands of letters started pouring into the house, and Vernon bellowed with rage for almost a full minute (shockingly not passing out from air deprivation) before Petunia had calmed him down and they’d all hopped in the care with nothing but the clothes on their back and driven for a solid twelve hours. When a letter literally appeared inside the glove compartment of the car (nearly causing Vernon to crash the car when Petunia opened it to grab something and a letter fell out) Vernon finally snapped; muttering insanely to himself while he somehow managed to perform a perfect Bootleggers turn and rented out some little run down shack on a tiny island out in the middle of nowhere. Dudley had summed up the rest of the car’s occupants perfectly when he’d fearfully stuttered, “Dad’s gone mad, hasn’t he?” While prying himself off the side of the door where Vernon’s insane driving had shoved him. Petunia had only added to the hilarity, in Harry’s opinion, when she shakily agreed with her son.

Harry looked at his watch - a gift from Kyoukan for winning his first tournament in Brightsummer years ago - and saw it was ten to twelve, ‘Nearly my birthday, I wonder if someone from Hogwarts finally appear, or if they’ll simply send loads of letters again,’ He mused. Sitting down on the floor he stretched out and watched the ancient clock on the wall as the broken minute hand crept towards the apex of its journey; having nothing better to do then see his birthday start personally.

‘Five minutes to go.’ Harry thought he heard something creak outside. He hoped that the roof wasn’t going to fall in, ‘Then again, I might be warmer if it did.’ He mused wryly.

‘Four minutes to go. Maybe Privet Drive will be so full of letters when we get back I can finally sneak one off? I haven’t tried using my Body Magic yet…’ It was just too fun watching his relatives panic to even bother making a serious effort to get his hands on a letter, his real families words assuring him he would get one eventually.

Three minutes. What was that funny crunching noise?

Two minutes. ‘Oh don’t tell me the island is going to sink into the ocean…’

One minute to go and he’d be eleven. Thirty seconds… twenty … ten… nine- ‘Maybe I should wake Dudley up? …nah, he’d just squeal to Vernon and that’s something I don’t need.’ three… two… one…

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The whole shack shivered and Harry bolted upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking on the door hard enough ton shake the entire shake. Not a hard task, the thing was half pillow wood at this point, but it was still shocking.

Boom! Boom! Boom! They knocked again. Harry had to hold in a laugh when Dudley jerked awake, fell off the couch, and slurred, “Where’s the cannon?” Into the floor.

Harry heard loud footsteps (his worry that the shack was going to collapse shot up further) behind him before Vernon barged into the room, an old break action shotgun clutched in his hands. Harry had to wonder where the man got a gun in this day and age. He must have found it in the shack itself, Harry decided, quite the find.

“Who’s there?” Vernon demanded. “I’m warning you, I’m armed!”

There was a pause. Smash!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. ‘Must be a half-giant,’ Harry thought in muted surprise. Thanks to his magical lessons he knew what the man wasn’t fully human… then again, he could have just been born really short and a bout of Accidental Magic when he was little turned him huge.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door before fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little, making it once again possible to talk with an in-door voice instead of being forced to shout.

He turned to look at them all. “Could yeh make us a cup o’ tea? It’s not been an easy journey…” The man asked politely. Harry looked around and noticed his relatives, Petunia having joined them around the time the half-giant had asked for tea, so he walked over to the micro size kitchen and started making some.

As he was making the drink for the half-giant, the man strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat, frozen with fear.

“Budge up, yeh great lump.” The stranger grunted.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Vernon.

“An’ here’s Harry!” The massive man said as he noticed Harry, seemingly for the first time.

Harry looked up from what he was doing into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. So with a smile of his own he said polity, “Hello. I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, but you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Las’ time I saw you, you were only a baby,” The half-giant rambled. “Yeh look a lot like yet dad, but yeh’ve got yet mom’s eyes.” He blinked as he realized what Harry had said. “Terribly sorry Harry, name Ru-”

Vernon cut him off before he could introduce himself, “I demand that you leave at once, sir!” he said. “You are breaking and entering!”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune.” The unnamed man said as he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Vernon’s hands and literally bent it into a pretzel before throwing it into the corner.

Vernon made a very mouse-like squeak and stumbled backwards, causing Harry to hide a smirk.

The half-giant looked back at Harry before smiling again, “A very happy birthday to yeh Harry. Got summat fer yeh here… I might’a sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.” From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry walked over with a large cup of tea, and set it down on the small, wobbly table next to the couch before taking the box from Hagrid. Inside he found a large, sticky chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday Harry’ written on it in green icing.

Harry looked up at the beaming man and smiled, genuinely happy to get his first present that wasn’t from his adopted family, his real one. “Thank you, sir. You never introduced yourself though.”

The giant chuckled at himself. “Oh blimey, yer right. Me name’s Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm. Harry, his polite front never wavering, couldn’t help but be disappointed. ‘In other words, he’s nothing more than a Grounds Keeper.’ Harry was hoping for a teacher to answer his questions. Hagrid seemed like a very nice man, but he also seemed a little… slow.

“Pleasure to meet you Mister Rubeus, your tea.” Harry said, gesturing towards the largest cup he could find filled with tea he’d set down before.

Hagrid laughed, a deep bellowing sound that Harry could swear he felt in the air, “Now, now, we’ll have non o’ tha’ Harry. Jes’ call me Hagrid.” The half-giant suddenly shivered. “It’s a might cold in here.” He picked up the umbrella he’d draped over the arm rest of the couch before he waved it at the fireplace. “Incendio.” He intoned gruffly, causing the fire to suddenly blaze to life in the previously barren fireplace.

Hagrid paused in thought for a few seconds before he brightened up and started digging around in his pockets, various items piling up on the floor; a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before pouring generously into the tea Harry had made for him. Soon the hut was filled of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage as Hagrid cooked the meat he’d picked out of his pocket. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first of the six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little, not sure if he could eat one. Vernon snapped at him before he could grab one anyway, “Don’t touch anything he gives you, Dudley.”

Ignoring them, Hagrid passed the sausages to Harry. Harry, having not eaten since the crazy road trip had started – something that, for once, he had in common with the rest of the Dursley’s - was very hungry and gratefully took the offered food. The meat was bland, and overcooked, but hunger truly proved itself to be the greatest spice and the six sausages were gone within minutes. “Mis- I mean Hagrid, are you here from Hogwarts?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME?!” Petunia suddenly screeched.

Knowing he was safe with Hagrid nearby Harry glared at Petunia, “Sensei Kyoukan has travelled the world for much of his life, and my stories about my bouts of Accidental Magic tipped him off. He invited a few friends of his that knew more about magic, since he can’t use magical himself, so they could teach me more about what I was in for. I know I’m a wizard, and the name of Hogwarts, but that’s about it, I have for years. They didn’t want to tell me too much until they knew I would be accepted into the school for sure or not.” He told a half-truth, no need to give away what he knew.

Vernon’s face was purple by the time Harry finished talking and marched towards him, his fist raised at the Freak who thought they could talk to his family like that. Before I could swing his meaty fist though something grabbed his arm. About the time Hagrid picked him up, effortlessly lifting his bulk off the ground, was when Vernon remembered who else was in the room. “And what,” Hagrid said darkly, “Do yeh think yer doin’?”

Still enraged at Harry, Vernon’s mouth worked before his brain could censor it, “The Freak deserves a good beating, thinking he can talk to my wife like that!” He blustered.

“How often do yeh do this, exactly?” Hagrid asked, his voice truly frightening.

“As often as possible!” Vernon retorted, purpling again. “It’s the only way to teach the Boy who his betters a-ARG!”

Hearing enough, Hagrid threw the man backwards. Because of who, or rather what, he was Vernon flew backwards several meters before impacting and going through the wall into the room he and Petunia had slept in.

“VERNON!” Petunia screeched as she went to make sure he was okay, Dudley following behind her. Hagrid waved his umbrella at the wall and it repaired itself before he waved it again, this time at the door to the room. It glowed for a second and Harry heard the door lock itself, the doorknob seemed more… solid to Harry. He felt that if he walked over and tried to turn it he would fail.

Now that the Dursleys were trapped in the room for however long Hagrid’s spell lasted. Hagrid turned to Harry, cheerful again, even if Harry could see through the attempt to cheer him up he indulged the man. “I don’t think they’ll be botherin’ us fer the rest o’ the night.” Hagrid said, voice strained. He walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it again, succeeding where Dudley failed in snapping all four of the legs causing the couch to slam into the ground, relatively intact. Hagrid seemed to brood for a few second before he brightened up considerably, this time genuinely, and pulled out a familiar letter. He wordlessly handed it to Harry, his previous mood all but forgotten at the chance to see Harry get his letter finally.

Harry took the letter with a mumbled “Thanks.”, his eyes glued to the parchment. Mr. H. Potter The Floor Hut-on-the-Rock The Sea It was certainly more interestingly addressed then the first letter he got… he pulled out the letter and read it out loud

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 Mr. 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.

While Harry expected many emotions after finally gaining a real link to the magical world, deadpan sarcasm certainly wasn’t the one he expected to feel first. “That’s it?” He asked, his voice flat.

“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me.” A shocked Hagrid exclaimed, once more seemingly ignoring what Harry said. Hagrid was more concerned with telling his boss (great man, that Dumbledore) about the situation and why he would be a day late in helping Harry Potter. So, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl - a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl - a long quill, and a roll of parchment.

With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down. (One of those random skills that Harry found himself possessing)

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given Harry his letter.

Will pick up Miss. Strange in the morning and take both to buy their things.

Weather’s horrible.

Hope you’re well.

Hagrid

Hagrid rolled up the note and gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak before walking over to the door, creaking it open, and throwing the Owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.

Harry knew Magical’s used Owl’s to carry letters, but he still felt a little flat footed after seeing one used right in front of him.

Before Hagrid could say anything, Harry said, “Now that you sent your owl, I’d like you to answer my questions.” Hagrid nodded his head, so Harry continued. “Why was there so little info in my letter? It didn’t tell me where I could get all the things I would need, and how I was going to get to Hogwarts. Is there some kind of err, orientation packet I can have that could give me all this information? I would also like to know why they sent a Grounds Keeper to inform me of all this, I don’t mean to offend you, but a teacher would be able to answer the question about the lessons and about the school and anything else I need to know better than a Grounds Keeper. Lastly, who is this Miss. Strange?”

It stung a little, but Hagrid did admit Harry had a point, one of the Professors - McGonagall would be the best choice in Hagrid’s mind, since she was his parents old Head of House - would be much better for the job he was currently tasked with. “Yeh’re right Harry, but Professor Dumbledore sent me to get yeh. As fer Miss. Strange, she’s a student, like you. I don’t think there’s any sort o’ packet, but I’m sure yeh can find something tomorrow when we pick up yer supplies.” Hagrid answered.“I’ve always wondered, what happened to my parents?” Harry asked, not believing for a second the ‘died in a car crash because they were drunk’ bunk the Dursley’s told him.

“Yeh don’t know?” Hagrid asked, clearly stunned. He recovered quickly though and started muttering to himself. “O’ course yer don’t know, not with the fat lump reactin’ like they did to yer tellin’ me yeh knew a bit about magic b’fore.”

“So what happened?” Harry pressed. ‘Finally, I’m going to find out what really happened to them.’

Hagrid sighed, looking anxious. “I never expected this,” He said, in a low, worried voice. “I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, I don’ know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh - but someone as gotta - yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts not knowin’.”

He seemed to make up his mind, sitting a little straighter, “Well, its 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 are…” He stared into the fire for a few seconds before he finally said, “It begins, I suppose, with - with a person called - but it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows -”

“Hagrid, all I know is that I can use magic and the name of Hogwarts.” Harry lied. Why did Isamo and Miyako keep this from him? He knew they were keeping something from him, there were rather large gaps in their more recent history lessons that he’d caught but never called them out on, but what reason would they have to keep it from him?

Hagrid looked depressed all of a sudden, “Right, right… I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, even more confused.

“Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, 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…” Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

“Could you write it down?” Harry suggested.

“Nah - can’t spell it. All right - Voldemort.” Hagrid shuddered. “Don’ make me say it again. 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, Harry. 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 Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ - an’ -”

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose, which considering his size, sounded like a foghorn.

“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, Harry. 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.”

Hagrid looked at Harry sadly, “Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…”

Harry suddenly felt the urge to kill the giant in front of him. Hagrid had been the one to personally condemn him to the hell known as living with the Dursleys, not to mention Dumbledore… before he could stop it his mind was already calculating his chances of the ideal attack. If he used his speed to enhance his strength and tried to strengthen his arm itself with magic he could maybe punch a hole clean through the man’s torso… but what about his tougher skin granted to him by his Half-Giant physiology? If he aimed at a soft spot maybe he cou -

Harry shook his head and focused on another question. Hagrid was just blindly following orders, the downside of being a little… slow, Dumbledore would be the one to blame here. Harry promised himself to be wary around the man. “But what happened to Vol -” Seeing Hagrid flinch at the ‘unspoken name’ he switched mid-word. “Sorry, I mean You-Know-Who?”

“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest myst’ry, see… he was gettin’ 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 kinda 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, Harry. 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.”

“How will I afford to go to Hogwarts?” Harry suddenly asked as he realized his own source of money, while impressive for his own needs, wasn’t exactly up to paying tuition for anything. “I don’t have a lot of money.”

Hagrid looked puzzled for a few seconds before a depressed look overtook him again, Harry’s ignorance apparently soemthing truly sad to him, “Don’ worry ‘bout tha’ Harry, yer parents left you some money in Gringotts, that’s the Wizard bank, so you should have plenty o’ gold to get what you need tomorrow.”

Harry wanted to ask further, but realized he was quite tired and he would get his answer in less than 24 hours anyway. Hagrid took off his massive coat and laid down on the couch, handing the coat to Harry with a sheepish, “Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”

Harry placed the coat on the ground and grabbed Dudley’s discarded blanket to make himself a nice make-shift bed before laying down and snuggling into it. Both half-giant and aspiring wizard were then silent for almost a minute before Hagrid shot up, a surprised look on his face as he realized something.

Shooting Harry an embarrassed look, whom had bolted up the same time as Hagrid, he said. “I’d be grateful if yeh didn’t mention tha’ I used magic ter anyone at Hogwarts,” He said quitely. “I’m- er… not really 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?” Harry asked, curiosity winning out over his need to sleep.

“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.”

“Why were you expelled?” Harry asked, another mark against Dumbledore being added in his mind. Hagrid was a kind man, Harry could now say that personally, but to send not just a Grounds Keeper, but a dropout Grounds Keeper? What was the man playing at?

“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow.” Hagrid blurted loudly, quickly changing the subject. “Gotta get up ter get Miss. Strange, and to get both o’ yeh all yer o’ books an’ that.” He suddenly laid down with a quick, “G’night Harry!”

Harry shrugged and replied, “Pleasant dreams Hagrid.” before he himself snuggled back into his makeshift bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

OoOoO

Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. He smiled to himself, he finally learnt about how his parents really died and he would be going to Hogwarts to learn more about magic finally. The only things he wasn’t sure on how to handle were his fame and Dumbledore; he wasn’t a fool to think that he was the one that defeated Voldemort, no, his parents had obviously done something to shield him, some sort of spell. Harry realized that this train of thought brought up another question; how did people know what happened? He didn’t remember what happened when his parents were killed, and he didn’t talk to anyone about it. His parents were dead, and if Voldemort was still out there Harry was 100 percent sure he wouldn't say anything. So it meant one of two things, the story was made up - something to give people hope again - or there was another person there and they didn’t do anything but watch it happen. If that was the case, Harry hoped that he never met them, because he was sure he would have instantly attacked them with lethal force without waiting for any sort of explanation. None of this changed the fact that he was famous and it was entirely possible he would have to deal with a lot of people being very interested in everything he did.

As for Dumbledore, he was the one that sent him to the Dursley, the reason for Harry's hate of the man was pretty self-evident. Still, Harry knew that he couldn’t do much about him yet, and that he needed answers before he could do anything.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud tapping noise.

As he sat up to see where the tapping was coming from Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. As he looked around he noticed the hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, and Hagrid was still asleep on the collapsed sofa. Hearing the tapping again, he looked where the sound was coming and saw an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

As Harry scrambled to his feet, he went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.

Curious, Harry walked over and assisted the owl in grabbing something out of Hagrid's coat. It was a small coin purse. Reaching inside Harry found dozens of bronze coins and a handful of silver ones. Assuming the owl was waiting for payment for the newspaper. Harry took a random guess at how much it was and grabbed a silver coin out of the purse. Placing the coin in the pouch on the Owl's leg he watched as it sent him an almost pleased looking look before flying off.

Walking over to Hagrid he grabbed the newspaper off of his chest and was about to read it when Hagrid opened his eyes. Harry folded the paper as Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

Once Hagrid looked awake enough Harry handed him his coat and the folded paper. “Thanks Harry. Yeh pay the Owl?” He asked sleepily.

“Eh... I had no idea how much to pay it after it made it apparent it was looking for money in return for the paper, so I just gave it one of the silver ones,” said Harry, a little embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. He knew so much about the history of the Magical World, and yet he had no idea what its money was called. Funny how that worked.

“It's no problem Harry. The silver coins are called Sickles while the bronze ones are called Knuts, I'll tell yeh more once we get ter Gringotts.” Hagrid waved his misspending off.

Hagrid put on his massive coat and looked around. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.” He declared.

When Hagrid turned his back and started to leave the shack Harry quickly opened the room to the only other room in the shack, surprised that the doorknob turned now. He looked inside and was happy to find it empty, the window now a gaping hole in the wall where the glass pane's had been knocked out. Harry guessed the Dursley's had escaped through the window, but Vernon's bulk had been too big and he'd broke the flimsy window frame. Harry chuckled as he hurried to catch up to Hagrid, the thought of what it would look like for Vernon to be stuck playing in his mind's eye. “So... anything you can tell me about Gringotts before we have to leave?” Harry inquired when he caught up to Hagrid as he tried to awkwardly put the door back in its frame one last time.

Giving up, Hagrid left the door on the ground and started walking towards the sea, “Sure Harry! I can tell yeh yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business.” Hagrid drew himself up proudly. “He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ you gettin’ things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see.”

So, apparently Goblins ran Gringotts. Good to know. It seems Hagrid had a rather short memory and was assuming Harry knew these little details about the magical world. Shaking that thought off Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rocks. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Vernon had hired was gone, confirming Harry's earlier theory.

“How did you get here?” Harry asked, looking around for another boat. It would have to be a rather large boat to fit someone of Hagrid's considerable height, but there was not a vessel in sight.

“Flew.” Hagrid said simply.

“One a broom?” Harry investigated. He wanted to see a magic broom with his own eyes to see if it was anything unique.

“Yeh! I... er, I think I lost it in the storm though.” Hagrid said, embarrassed.

“Its fine Hagrid, it was pretty bad last night. So how are we getting to this other student you need to pick?” Harry asked, changing the subject.

“We’re takin’ a Portkey tha' Dumbledore got me,” Hagrid said as he took an old tin can from his pocket, “An’ then we're goin' ter take the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley.”

“Portkey?” From what he could work out it seemed like the normal tin can had some kind of spell on it, one that enabled travel.

“It's a magical transport that can take yeh wherever yeh want.” Hagrid explained, “It normally looks like an old piece of Muggle rubbish so that Muggles wouldn’t pick it up, like this can. Now hold on,” Hagrid warned, which Harry did, weary of an unknown form of travel. “Oh before I forget, at first you’ll feel like yeh’re going fast, and as we get ter where we’re going yeh'll feel like yer slowing down, when yeh do, start walking. If yeh don’t yeh’ll fall onto the ground.” Without another seconds warning Hagrid said, “Activate!”

Harry suddenly felt as though a hook just behind his navel was pulling him forward. Just like Hagrid said it felt like he was moving forward very quickly, despite there being no wind brushing past him. When he started to feel himself slow down her started walking. Unfortunately, he was walking just a little too fast and when the ground suddenly appeared below him he stumbled forward a few steps.

“Careful Harry,” Hagrid warned, “It takes a few tries before yeh no longer topplin’ over at the end o’ a Portkey journey.”

As Harry was straitening himself out, he looked around to see if he recognized the area of Brightsummer they was in. He had little luck, but he did recognize a few buildings in the distance. “Shame, I was hoping we would be in an area I was familiar with.” He commented.

Hagrid looked interested, “Yeh've been here before?”

And so as they began to walk Harry explained about becoming a Martial Artist so he could defend himself, and how he came to Brightsummer for tournaments to see how strong he was compared to other people, and earn some money for himself. Hagrid was incredibly interested in what Harry was saying and happy Harry had found a hobby; the half-giant knew very little about Muggles and hand-to-hand fighting that wasn't a desperate last resort when a wizard lost their wand, so the idea of Muggles fighting for fun and money was completely new to him. Hagrid was especially happy to hear that Harry could defend himself. He knew there were some bad eggs in Hogwarts that wouldn't be please about Harry killing the Dark Lord, and it took a load off his mind knowing Harry would have a better chance at keeping himself safe.

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of Saint Charles Orphanage. Hagrid knocked on the door softly and a few minutes later, a man in his mid thirties with silver hair opened the door. The man looked at Hagrid's belly first before he looked up slowly... and up, and kept looking ever higher until he finally reached the man's face. The Orphanage employee was shaking and white by the time he was looking Hagrid in the eyes, “H - how c - can I h - help you, sir?” He stuttered.

“Greetin’s sir, Professor Dumbledore sent me to pick up a Miss. Lorraine Strange,.” Hagrid greeted politely.

“P - please wait here, I'll g - go get her for you.” The silver haired man squeaked before he ducked back inside.

Harry busied himself by looking around, hoping he would get to see the pretty redhead and her friends, even if the odds of that were rather slim. Honestly, what were the chances of her being an orphan like him and also being a witch, meaning they would be spending the entire day together shopping? His luck wasn't that good.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Author’s Notes: Here ends another chapter of Children of the Darkness, I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope that you take a few more moments and review, as I would like to hear what you think of this chapter. So you know there is one more chapter of this story before it ends: but don’t worry, there will be a sequel to this.

Oh you know how some stories sometimes gain a life of their own? Well this is one of those stories, as the plan was to keep Harry the same as the book, shy, no knowledge of the magical and all that and only have Martial Arts to back him up. But now Harry isn’t shy, only around cute girls he is, he has knowledge the wizarding world and apart for Martial Arts to back him up, he also knows a bit of wandless magic and some elemental skill. Before you say anything, he isn’t all powerful eleven year old, he just had some training. But later on in the story he is going to be god-like.