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Chapter 1

Corrupt Focus

"Ten!" Harry mumbled to himself before grinning widely. "That's right, I'll be eleven in a few days and yesterday I got my Hogwarts letter!" he chimed out proudly, no matter that his parents didn't care about his birthday, or that he got his letter. He was actually surprised they were letting him go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the way they listened so easily to how Dumbledore, the headmaster of said magic school wanted him to be punished just for not being the useless Boy-Who-Lived like that twit twin brother of his.

He lay back on his tiny bed which was in the attic of their huge twenty room mansion, in which most of the rooms were left empty. They thought that was some kind of punishment or something, for what? Just existing? Because some mental old man said it was the right thing to do? It wasn't, and never would be to any child, let alone him. They gave him nothing-no, less than nothing because they took from him too, because of Dumbledore, but they were stupid.

Harry had the house-elves to get him everything he needed since they had to obey his orders as he was still by blood a Potter. He didn't like having any kind of slave, even if the little elves did give him the creeps sometimes, but he had to make do with what he could get, and utilising the assistance of the little menaces was vital to his survival, and his survival was paramount to his vengeance against Dumbledore and anyone who would obey him so willing, and blindly.

The young, forgotten, and mildly mistreated Potter sighed, and rolled his little green eyes before rubbing sleep away with his little fists and slipping out of bed. His room was well kept, airy, and clean. His parents wouldn't have approved of such nice living conditions, but they would never enter his room to see it anyway.

He had a desk by the only window, which was small, but looked out over the fields since they lived out in the country within a small village. It was nice and peaceful if you discounted his brother: the Boy-Who-Lived. It was a conceited title given to a boy who had been taught to not deserve the praise he got. He had supposedly defeated the supposed-greatest dark wizard of all time, Voldemort while he was only a baby, and praised for something he couldn't remember or replicate.

It may have sounded far-fetched, but Harry was sure it happened, but whatever power was used it would have squandered into nothing by then. Harry read a lot, to prepare himself. That was how he knew that the kind of power that could potentially stop Voldemort had to be pure for a child to perform. He wasn't sure whether pure-of-heart was the answer or not; he doubted it, but normally powers like that were based off pure intentions, hope, life, love, but Terry was having any of that ripped from him by Dumbledore.

Harry could only hope his twin brother could be fixed, maybe woken from his own self-importance, but he knew it was unlikely as Terry wasn't very intelligent, nothing like Harry. Harry knew his intellect was far above anyone else's and coupled with how fast he had to grow up to look after himself he could see eye to eye with any adult. But he hated how ignorant they were. They were self-serving. They believed that they were smarter than anyone else, especially kids when Dumbledore said jump and they jumped.

The way the old man looked at Harry made Harry realise deep down, the old man was scared of him for some reason. He didn't know how or why, but he was, and Harry could sense that fear like a wild animal. It was lucky Harry was a natural at shielding his mind away or the old man would have something to fear looking inside his hateful thoughts. Harry didn't hate everyone, just those who went out of their way to hurt or humiliate him.

Harry loved his little sister, Rosette, and he was sure she loved him too. She was treated, 'right', and 'taught' to hate Harry, but she was different. She was smart. She wasn't in Harry's league because she didn't have all of his reason and resolve, but she was smart enough to know which big brother would look after her. She was only five years younger than Harry and Terry, and though Harry saw sparks of indecision he also saw she held onto her middle name, Hope.

His youngest brother Kalam was eight years younger than Harry and had eyes like his and Rose's with rusty coloured hair. Unfortunately he wasn't as bright as Rose and took their families anti-Harry stance much too seriously for three years old. But with some hope, Harry could only hope that he would grow up and realise some truth about the way the world was manipulated by the old basket case, Dumbledore. It helped that he was young, and because Rosette wasn't 'turned' from Harry they tried so much harder this time around.

Stretching Harry stood up on his bare feet having slid out of his thin sheets. He wasn't wearing any clothes as he hadn't any pyjamas and liked to feel free while in bed. His body was showing muscles, lightly defined from all of his exercise. He knew a strong body was much more suited for magic and trained in every non-magical combat art he could because he also reasoned that wizards had weak jaws. Well that 'training' was really just from 'books' and his own trial and error.

Harry went to his wardrobe and pulled out a muggle suit and shoes to wear out. It was something his father enjoyed buying him, muggle (non-magical) people clothes. It was supposed to be a show of disrespect for a wizard to be treated like a muggle as if muggles were beneath them (as if). However, Harry enjoyed the clothes, and they made him look good, and he used his father's ignorance to get all sorts of muggle things, from computers to TV's as hate clouded morons minds. His father thought he was punishing Harry, but what he was really doing was treating him. It was remarkably easy to use reverse psychology on his father that he could get anything as long as it was muggle or thought to be muggle.

If only the muggle-born's would believe how racist Dumbledore and his father were, the magical world might have gotten interesting, and a real civil war could take place, not that pansy arse thing with the Death Eaters because real war had casualties both sides. That was more like a terrorist action where the governing body (the Ministry of Magic UK) was too stupid to actually put them down as it should have done from the start because they followed the power hungry Albus Dumbledore's 'Greater Good' and didn't want to end all of those ancient pureblood bloodlines, over half of which (the Death Eaters at least) were inbred somewhere if they hadn't outsourced into other countries, which was diluting the diversity of blood.

Shrugging, he grabbed his Power Rangers towel (one of many for different shows or comic books he enjoyed watching or reading) and entered his small shower room. It was a mansion, so every, or nearly every room had some kind of wash room, including his. It wasn't very large, but he was only eleven, and it was only a place to wash up anyway.

It took Harry ten minutes to clean up and dress in his little black suit with lighter black pinstripes. It had a black shirt and tie, neatly done right with a black waistcoat and leather belt, and finally shiny black shoes. His outfit cost much less than anything near its range would fetch as the magical world was one big 'traditional' rip-off after the other. It was lucky for an idiot like his father, James Potter that the family had been very wealthy as he couldn't haggle a sickle off a ton of minced beef if he had too.

Straightening out his cufflinks, Harry then brushed his hair into curved spikes that lined backwards, up, and down in neat disarray. He checked himself in the mirror, making sure he looked as un-backwards as he could because he didn't want to be associated with primitives like the magical world were. They even managed to draw in poor naive muggle-born witches and wizards. He felt sorry for them getting stuck in the primitive culture of a people stuck in their ways, refusing to move on with time.

Shrugging, as he looked good, he exited his room and trekked down the stairs where his family were surprisingly waiting. Only Rosette had a smile for him, but that disappeared from her little lips and green eyes in moments as the small red-haired girl saw the scowls from the rest of the family. Harry gave her a half-hearted shrug. It made him sad that Dumbledore had ruined his family, but he had grown accustomed to everything.

Ten minutes later Harry, Rosette, and their family were in Diagon Alley, looking around in wonderment with James giving Kalam a piggyback ride. Even for a primitive people they did have some wondrous thing, Harry couldn't deny that as magic was useful. But Harry always found it weird that people with magic still managed to have classes, and poor people. They had magical powers. They didn't need money. They could hunt, conjure, transfigure, but all they seemed good at was begging. It showed that the schooling system had to be no good if it didn't even teach the basics of survival with magical powers, and then some of them would turn to the dark, or worse.

Sure, Harry knew people couldn't be perfect at everything, but even a rudimentary coat that looked awful was better than shivering in the cold. Then they could even conjure food, so instead of wasting power they could practice. He knew conjuring real food was very hard, supposedly, but practice hard enough at something and Harry was sure, especially when it came to magic that they could get it down; the muggles didn't have such a luxury.

"Rose!" their mother said coolly after a few moments while brushing her long red hair back, "take your big brothers hand, and don't let go, we don't want you getting lost!" she ordered, and Rosette nodded quickly and grabbed Harry's right hand in her left and held on tight. Harry knew their mother didn't mean him, but he knew that Rosette wouldn't have even tried to hold Terry's hand, and he wouldn't have wanted her too as he still believed in cooties (though in the magical world you could never be too sure something like that didn't exist), and wouldn't want to be laughed at if he met any of his 'friends', (or in other words potential minions).

"Rosette!" Lily reprimanded, startling her, "not his!" she hissed out making Rosette flinch, "I meant Terry's!"

"Augh!" Terry fake gagged, "I'm not holding a girls hand!" he said, "Especially not Rose's, and certainly not after she's touched that muggle wannabe!" he finished with his nose up in the air.

Harry held back his glare while looking his brother over, despising his blatant racism. It was no wonder Harry liked the muggles better. At least they were getting over those phases of hate, slowly but surely with greater understanding of the universe and growing technology even though they still had their fights they were so much vaster and much more diverse it would have been troubling if they didn't get into arguments and disagreements. Most racism these days were far from the West even though so many people in the West wanted to keep the make-believe idiocy that people cared all that much about the colour of your skin, most of the time people were more happy hating you just because; they didn't need a reason, hence, Harry's own predicament.

Terry was wearing a silk robe set of Gryffindor colours, which were scarlet, the colour of one of the four houses of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry also knew that apart from underwear that Terry was wearing his robe like a muggle girl or woman would a dress, just like their father, James was. Terry was much more like their father with brown eyes and he was scrawny, apart for his bright ginger hair in a mop on his head whereas James's hair was black like Harry's was.

Rosette was different. Her hair colour was a deep crimson like their mothers. It was tied in a ponytail and hung to the bottom of her neck. She wore some neat white robes that she left open. They were silk too, and underneath she wore a pretty white summer dress to match. If Rosette had her way, she wouldn't be wearing a robe like Harry wasn't. She wore white sandals for her toes to breathe that Harry had tricked their father into getting her because she liked them. Harry was a bit of a sap when it came to his little sister, and loving to make sure she was happy even if he wasn't, but her smile made it all worthwhile even if he had to back off, not letting her play with him sometimes to make sure James and Lily didn't hurt her.

Lily turned away after a few moment of staring in which time Rosette never let go of Harry's warm hand as she could be as stubborn as him sometimes, and Terry looked as if he would rather eat dragon-poop soup than hold his sisters hand, not that Rosette wanted him to. Terry wasn't the nicest big brother, even to his younger siblings, even Kalam would rather Harry's company than Terry's, especially if the setting was 'alone' as Terry had grown very selfish and even spiteful.

James followed Lily, ignoring Harry and Rosette and heading into the alley, leading Terry towards the nearest shop with Kalam looking baffled riding on his back. James had already given Harry a small bag of magical world money to buy his things away from the others, which surprised Harry, but he likely wanted rid of him, so gave him the 'hint' to bugger off. However, he didn't care as he took his little sister with him towards the clothing store while the others went to the quidditch supply shop and didn't seem to care that they went off alone.

It said on their Hogwarts letters that first years weren't allowed to bring their own brooms, but needless to say the rules would be 'stretched' for the precious Boy-Who-Lived by the 'benevolent' Albus Dumbledore and his notorious favouritism. Though, it wasn't as if Harry had any money to spare a broom anyway. He knew he would have to make his money last a good long time, which meant he would have to haggle. In which time he would have to use his cunning to get more money, and his family had enough that they wouldn't notice any slip away.

He wasn't proud in the sense that he wouldn't barter for better prices or steal if he had too. But if you let the magical people dictate prices you would get ripped-off by huge margins. It wasn't like the muggle world, which had laws and regulations in place to protect consumers. The magical world didn't care about customer satisfaction, but the profit made. Even the goblins knew that they needed to keep customers sweet. If the customer showed them respect, they returned it, but if a customer was rude and disrespectful, they got that returned as the customer expected it because they were racist and believed goblins were beneath them.

"Hogwarts, dear?"

Harry was broken from his musing by the shop keeper as she had been making some adjustments on a bored looking beach blonde haired boys new robes. Harry reasoned the boy was a new first year too as he was young and seemed a little uncertain himself, and though he was surely spoilt, he was guarded with cool, aloft grey eyes, which was a sign his home life wasn't all that good as that look was, though nowhere near as hooded, like the look Harry saw reflected in his own eyes in the mirror on bad – well his worst days.

"Yes ma'am!" Harry agreed politely while he led his little sister into the store. "I need some of these school robes, and I wouldn't feel comfortable without a proper uniform underneath."

"Yes, yes," she agreed with a hungry smile on her face, "muggle-born's usually aren't," she agreed. Harry let her believe he and his sister were muggle-born's, "but we cater for all here; the normal set will cost quite an amount though. Five sets for five days a week, but they'll be cleaned over the weekend, and you don't have classes then so get to wear your everyday clothes," she said doing the 'maths' in her head, "Three hundred and twenty two Galleons," she said, which made the platinum blonde boy pay closer attention with slightly widened eyes, curious, but he didn't say anything.

Harry faked a yawn of boredom and shook his head before a wide smile stretched his face, "wow, sorry I wasted your time ma'am, but I could buy a months' worth back in the muggle world and still get change from that, and in better materials," he said about to walk his confused little sister back out of the shop.

"Wait!" she called out hurriedly, and they turned back to her. Magical people were so much easier to barter with than muggles, as the muggles, nine out of ten didn't need the sale that much as there were thousands more willing to pay, "how about I give you a small discount for your first year at Hogwarts. One hundred and fifty-five galleons?" she suggested, which was a huge discount if you were stupid.

"One hundred and fifty-five galleons is the equivalent to roughly six hundred and eighty pounds," Harry commented with an amused smile, "I'll tell you what, I'll pay you one hundred galleons for fourteen sets of the full muggle-born uniforms fully fitted with some room for growth of course?"

The woman looked at Harry's unwavering gaze before she sighed and nodded her head in agreement while gesturing the stool next to the other boy. Rosette looked at Harry as he let her go winking in smugness, never having seen anyone negotiate before, and believed he got a nice big discount when he just got it all down to proper retail/convenience price and hoping he would haggle for her when she started school.

The woman left them alone to get some more material and tape measures for Harry while the blonde boy looked at him shrewdly. He tried to seem thoughtful, but it came off wrong; the blonde boy obviously didn't think much for himself, likely a child of a stuck-up pureblood family or something, getting to see the real world first hand for a change of scene.

"You don't like paying the proper price?" the blonde boy demanded suddenly after deciding what he wanted to say.

Harry looked at him fully, and shrugged, "I am paying the proper price. I just don't like being ripped-off!"

"Stupid mud-bloods like you should take what we are kind enough to offer!" he retorted. "Thinking you can get away with making things cheaper is stupid. Don't you have any pride?"

"Of course I do!" he agreed, smiling while little Rosette fumed at being called mud-bloods but calmed down when she saw Harry didn't care, so why should she? "But my pride is smart. It won't let me hand over a ton of money that I don't have too. You don't get rich by giving away your money, those ripping you off do! She would have told me to go shopping in the muggle world if she didn't think she was ripping me off in the first place."

The blonde boy frowned before he shrugged, "I'm Draco Malfoy!" he said looking Harry up and down as if expecting there to be something wrong with him because he was a 'mud-blood', though technically true as he and his sister were half-bloods, well three-quarter bloods, or whatever. Draco obviously thought they were muggle-born, or at least Harry was as his sister could have been a muggle for all he knew as he was obviously oblivious to the fact muggles or muggle-born first years wouldn't usually wear robes their first time in Diagon alley.

"Harry Evans!" he replied, not offering his hand as Draco being first to introduce himself should have, but not doing so would have been a sign of disrespect according to magical lore. He didn't call himself Potter as he was ashamed of that name and never used it while introducing himself, "and this is my little sister, Rosette!" he said while the woman returned ready to measure Harry up.

"Oh, sorry Mr. Malfoy, I forgot, we're all done now!" she quickly said, and he was gone in moments taking a few seconds at the door to try out his best 'I'm evil stare' and then leaving, though his stare didn't do much but make Rosette snicker.

It took twenty minutes to finish getting Harry's uniforms, and for them to leave with everything shrunk with timed locks in Harry's pockets when Rose spoke.

"Are you going to get a pet Harry?" she asked eagerly and hopeful.

However, he had to let her down as he shook his head, "sorry Rosie, but they cost too much, and I need to spare every Knut. Next is the potions supply store, then the book store, and last the wand shop as I have everything else. I know my telescope is muggle, but it doesn't use electricity – well my older one doesn't, and it has better functions, and much better zoom."

"Okay!" she said, pouting as she held his arm and he laughed as she was too adorable, and he knew how much she wanted her very own pet.

Harry led Rosette first to get his potion supplies, looking at all of the icky stuff together and giggling before entering the book store Harry did spend a bit more than he wanted, but they had a few books that he would find hard to get hold of in the Hogwarts library as Dumbledore wouldn't want anyone of 'his' students reading about things that could discover his illegal use of magic. That could have gotten him into a lot of trouble, but he hadn't seen fit to get the book stores to stop selling them as they were in boring sections of the store.

Finally they arrived at the wand shop: Ollivanders Wand Shop. It was dank, dark, dusty, and creepy, which caused Rosette to cling onto her big brothers hand and arm tightly because she knew he would do anything and everything to protect her, she just wished she had the power to do the same for her big brother.

Harry however was not impressed. He could pick up the light traces of magic emanating from someone else in the shop, someone observing them. Harry had a talent for picking someone out based on the 'scent' of their magic, so he knew he hadn't met this person before. He glared at the spot the man was standing and he made Rosette jump when he appeared within the blink of an eye, laughing.

"Observant, Mr. Potter," the old wand maker commended, "it has been a while since a first year, not even in Hogwarts has seen through my trick to observe unobstructed. You learn a lot from watching people while they believe they are alone."

"Who else picked you out?" Harry asked in curiosity.

The old man chuckled, "he is but the same man who gave your brother the scar on his forehead. I expect to see your brother sometime today, yes?"

Harry double-took, "I thought you thought I was him?"

"I have my ways," he said, as he showed him a small white crystal ball in his hand. It had two names in it in vibrant blue, Rosette Hope Potter and then, "yes, your name, odd that, Harry James Potter keeps flickering to just Harry Evans. Dumbledore's doing no doubt-."

"No, I don't want it to be Potter-."

"You misunderstand," the old wand maker corrected, "but I merely meant that he was the cause of you willing your birth… given name away. It reminds me of what happened to poor Tom Riddle… I mean, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Sometimes we are forced down bad paths."

"Voldemort was a terrorist, nothing else!" Harry replied and the old man and Rosette flinched as Harry said the dreaded name, and though Ollivander said nothing, and didn't acknowledge anything, Rosette looked highly impressed with her big brothers nonchalance as even their mother, father, and Terry wouldn't say it.

"I see you will be more," the old man said with a smile, "but enough about that, let's find you your wand, shall we?"

Ollivander went to leave behind stacks of shelves with thin wooden boxes covered in dust when Harry called out, "wait!" he said, and Ollivander did. "Why would we need wands?" he asked. "I mean, we couldn't have always had them, and I can use magic without one."

"Yes, in fact it is much easier than most would give you credence," he agreed. "They were originally designed for more precision work, but mage got complacent, and they made other spells easier, so they became lazy, and with that laziness they have weakened. It is a shame, but go ahead, you should study what you must to become a great wizard."

"Then that means getting a wand too I guess?" Harry asked while the old man laughed and nodded as he looked at Harry.

"Great things, Mr. Evans, great things," the old man muttered as he looked into his crystal ball and placed it away, heading into the stacks of wands before returning five minutes later with many boxes and placed them on the counter.

The old man started handing Harry wand after wand, but got nothing but a lot of destruction, and more excited the more damage Harry caused. With each wand Harry tried it blew something up or shattered something else. Rosette and Ollivander were standing well clear of Harry as he tried each wand. However, the more Harry tried, after a long while the magic started to be less dangerous and more flamboyant and or fun.

"Impossible!" the old man whispered, but got Rosette looking at him, confused so he spoke his thoughts, "it is the wand that chooses the wizard, or witch Miss. Potter. In the wrong hands a wand would be unpredictable, and in a powerful wizards hand, like your brothers, potentially dangerous. However, young Harry is taming the wands with just his touch. With each wand he draws he is learning from it and using those mishaps to command the next wand, and with each attempt he is doing it… the implausible-!"

He paused his thoughts as Harry had picked up two wands at once and was chatting to them as he made them both shoot rose petals all over the store before he placed them back down and frowned as he turned back to Ollivander.

"Umm… I've ran out of wand to try… again," he said sheepishly with a sad look in his eyes. They had been at it for hours and they were surprised other customers hadn't arrived to get in the way. But then their brothers and parents were probably having a blast without them, likely at the ice cream parlour.

"Hmm… I wonder," Ollivander suggested to himself before shrugging he walked passed Harry into a back room and returning moments later with a heavily dust laden silver box, "this wand is… different… it is dangerous in the wrong hands. It is free and wild. The people who captured and destroyed the beast that made this core had died trying to use this wand or died trying to capture and kill the beast.

"It came from a mighty dragon lord… and its wand became corrupt to murder such a beast," he said as he opened the lid on the box. The wand was magnificent in a smoky grey, long and straight, "twelve inches made from the creatures armoured scales rather than wood, with a hand grip made from its hide for comfort and fortification, and its heartstring as its core – said to contain the creatures corrupt soul – a curse very few could tame-."

The old wand maker was going to change his mind in fear – he offered it because it would do very little for him to touch – if it wanted nothing to do with young Harry, no foul, hopefully. Maybe he should let the boy try some more of the other wands first?

However, the old man started as he realised that Harry had taken the wand out of its case, and in a blinding flash of power the shop blazed with black and purple light and there was the over powering spell and taste of acidic poison and a sweltering heat, and it all radiated through and around Harry as he held the wand in wonder with black and deep purple sparks jumped through his fingers and arched off the wand. Then the light, the heat, the poison was gone as fast as it came, and Harry was still standing, staring at his new wand, closing his eyes he could hear it hum, and feel it through his very being. He could hear the beautiful voice deep within his everything, and knew this wand was his partner, he managed to sooth his wands aches, his wands sadness, his wands rage.

"Lady," Harry corrected, startling Ollivander and he looked at Harry in awe and confusion, "Dragon Lady, as in the dragon was female, and…" he had tears in his eyes as he looked away, "she was the only one of her kind – and so young even by…" he finished, rubbing the tears away. He was sickened that humans could be so cruel and hoped that someday he could stop people from doing such as they pleased to another creature so cruelly.

"A-are you, okay, Big Brother?" Rosette asked, worried for him while looking a little worse for ware and ill over the display.

He nodded his head and smiled, "of course I am," he agreed as he found an ashen coloured leather holster and strapped it onto his left forearm, before sliding his wand in, under arm, "her name. She is an Echo of dragon lore. I shall love her. So how much do I owe you Mr. Ollivander?"

The old man split into a half-grin, "this one, Mr. Evans, is on the house," he replied before he watched Harry leading his sister out of his shop before grinning full-fledged, "I can barely wait to see what you shall do in this world Mr. Evans, but I do know it shall define a new level of greatness! Oh, how I pity your ignorance Albus Dumbledore!"

To Be Continued…

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please rate and review, and you can follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/PhantasyDegree -- thank you and have a great evening... or morning, or afternoon, or night. ;)